|Unexpected Benefits of Foul Language|
|Summary:||On their long overdue return to Stonebridge, two commoners stumble over a pair of nobles with remarkably surprising good intentions.|
|Related Logs:||Stubborn Mules|
|Town Square, Stonebridge|
|The surrounding terrain has several small gullies and streams that feed into the waterfront area just adjacent to the town square, the sails of the boats visible over the tops of the buildings. The square is floored in the same heavy stone that the east docks and castle are constructed of while the buildings are a mix of the stone, wood, and mortar. There are quite a few fish vendors with their fragrant catches for sale among groups of tables which tend to be busy most of the time.|
|Jul 24, 289|
Shaking her head slowly, Bryliesa offers easily, "There is no interruption as my riding has concluded for the evening. As tempting as midnight rides can be, I do not wish to tax poor Thicket too much. She was a bit fickle earlier so I took her for a little exercise. And as much I do love to ride, she should bed down for the evening." Her gaze slides back over to the stablehand leading the mare back to the stable before again regarding the brothers, "Mice squeak, Lord Nevan, and I was not quite aware that I had been downgraded to rodent status… at least not yet. Perhaps in a few more years…." she jests lightly with a teasing curl of her lips.
Pausing for a moment to consider Brennart's offer, her blue eyes slide to regard him fully, "I would love to tour the Riverlands, but are you certain you both could take the time away for such an escort? Not to be ungrateful by any means, but I do not wish to burden your family any further than I already have." At her side, Tanzie turns her gaze skyward and remains silent as the dead as she fidgets a bit with her hands behind her back.
Brennart nods, "It's not a problem we're already traveling around the Riverlands as it is it'd be easy enough to incorporate your staff into our caravan. It wouldn't be a burden at all. And I'm sure it would be more interesting than sitting around doing that needle point stuff." He shudders a bit, "Although I think I need to get the house badge sewn on some of my cloaks…"
"We're heading back that way anyway, it wouldn't be any trouble at all to take you along with us," Nevan agrees with Brennart, making his way into the inn. "I'm going to get this armor off and then probably turn in for the evening, but I'll see you both tomorrow I've no doubt. Good evening," Nevan notes tiredly, giving a final bow of his head to Brennart and Bryliesa as he disappears into the Crane's Crossing, chain jingling as he goes.
Following the occasional bit of foot traffic, a bit of blond fluff seems to drift. High one moment, low the next, offerin' a bit of a pet to the mangey pup at her side. It's all legs, like she is, bob-n-weavin' every other step as it smacks wetly on a rats tail, "Now Stupid, dontcho go wanderin'," the girl warns, while her teeth bunch, remarkably clean for a face that's got some dirt on it, around her bottom lip. She's the look of one gazin' about awful fierce, one sign an buildin' front after another; a right trick in the evenin' light before the obvious jumped out and caught her attention. The stables weren't at all hard to miss then. "Found 'em Pa!" The chit called, with an arch look over the curve of her shoulder towards the incline.
A whip lean fellow was arguing with a couple of mules, pulling on them, shoving them, cursing them, generally trying his best to make the stubborn creatures move when it was apparent they had no such desire. Though the animals were ladened with enough goods to warrant belonging to a lesser merchant, the man looked more a kin to a dirty guard than anything else. His dark hair hadn't been washed in some time, and clung to his scalp and neck in greasy coils, and his beard was dirty and bristling. Dirt on his face, too, for all that beneath all the muck it had a certain lean handsomeness to it. He'd hard eyes. Scourged free of any kind of mercy long ago by deeds best unmentioned. "Fuckin' finally!" He shouted at the blonde ahead of him.
"Go get us room fer the fuckin' animals, an' iffen it don't cost too much, the cheapest room they got fer us. Otherwise above them damn stables in the straw'll do us fine." He gave one of the mules a real proper smack when he refused to go any further. "Blasted."
"If you have need of a bit of sewing, Lord Brennart, I can likely see that it is handled for you. Time is something I have a great deal of at the moment and really it would be like helping to pay back my way for your kind escort," the young Frey replies slowly as she turns to flash a faint smile and dip of her head towards Nevan and his departure.
At her side, Tanzie lets out a polite cough, inspiring a sidelong glance from her Lady. As if suddenly reminded of something, blue eyes again light upon the older Erenford, "There are admittedly a great deal more things to do at Heronhurst than simple needlepoint, milord. In truth, needlepoint is something I do not truly do all that often at all…" Her voice fades slightly at the sound of others, eyes widening a fraction at the rather gutteral language as she slips just a hair closer towards Brennart, offering the pair a polite smile and faint dip of her head.
Brennart nods, and lets the stable boy take up the horses and tips the young man before he starts to head towards the Inn but pauses, "'Scuse me, mind watching your tongue in front of the Lady here?" He glances back at Bryliesa, "See I knew I should have paid attention to what the Ladies were doing back at Heronhurst… I thought it was all needlework and dancing and singing. And some overseeing of the cooks of course." He glances towards the Inn, "Still wanting to sit down for the evening meal correct?"
Gerry went down on his knee fast enough once he realized he'd been using that kind of language in the presence of nobles, and didn't seem to notice the fact that it meant he was touched down into a bit of old horse shit. His head went low to hide his eyes and most of his face, giving but view of the crown of his head. For all that it was dirty, he'd a thick mane on him. "Deepest pardons, m'Lord n'Lady. Wasn't payin' no attention, an' didn't see ye there." He said nothing more at all, his jaws tightly wound together as he waited for forgiveness or the alternative. His hands were both kept far, far away from the well used sword on his hip, or the dirk on the opposite side, or several other blades hidden about him. One of the mules carried a rather vicious looking bow, too, swadded in a leather cover and with some bristling arrows nearby. His eyes only lifted as far as their boots while he kneeled there. Meanwhile the mules, suddenly free of pestering, had for some reason decided they were going to the stables anyway, smelling the hay.
Cat'd been mid-way across the square, when the man's words caught her attention called from the distance and while keen eyes did try to make out some sort of marking, to realize whether or not she ought to be throwing around a Ser, her Pa's words cleared up any mess. No sooner'd he spoke than she'd frozen, dipped a curtsy and with the look of a startled deer, bowed 'er head till it looked like she'd half fall over. "Thousand pardons, milord, milady," where the pardons were like as not for her Pa, an the lack of courtsey.
As her male companion actually speaks up, the noble Frey's eyes widen yet again, glancing from Brennart towards the kneeling man and back again. Inhaling a slow breath, her fingers dust lightly to brush against the Erenford lord's arm before she echoes thoughtfully, "I do not believe he meant ill by it, milord. It is fine and to be forgiven. Sometimes I forget how things are away from the manor."
Concern etches upon Bryliesa's brow as she lets her gaze flit from the daughter to her father, before again looking upon the woman, to address her warmly, "If you and your father are short upon coin for this one night, please ask the stablemaster to add tonight's stay for your animals to the bill for Lady Bryliesa Frey. I will send Jaspar by to pay good upon it before morn. No one should have to make due without a proper place to sleep for at least tonight." Pausing for a moment, she regards Brennart again with a half-smile, "I would still like to share the meal, unless you are too tired from your journey?"
Brennart nods, "No harm was intended, I don't mind the language but most Ladies are very shocked at such vulgarities. Please rise, it looks like Lady Bryliesa,'s beaten me to offering a room for the night." He glances over at Brylie, "Never too tired to eat m'lady and perhaps there will be music and dancing and laughter here so little of that to be found at the Roost right now."
The rather dirty (and probably smelly up close) man lifted himself up to his feet once forgiveness for his transgression was given. With a frown he looked at the bit of manure that clung stubbornly to his knee, and gave it an annoyed bat with his hand. Then realized it was now sticking to his fingers, grimaced even further, and wiped it off against his rough leather jerkin, a piece of cheap armour that'd seen a whole lot of better days. Like the rest of his attire in general. "Thank ye kindly, m'Lady," he said when the noblewoman made her surprise offer. As a result his sharp eyes, cold as winter, found the two highborn for the first time to give them a look over. His gaze might have been just a touch too direct, too. "I'll speak highly of ye, wherever I go, sure 'nuff. Yer a proper noble in act, an' not jus' in blood."
He flicked a glance in his scrawny daugther's direction, imparting a bit of silent meaning there. "Fo' the sake o'me kid, I ain't too proud te take yer charity, either. It'll be good te see her face again once I got 'er bathed under a proper roof." He paused, then shrugged. "Pardon, here's me talkin' like me business is o'interest to ye." He chuckled, a rich and persuasive sound, the kind that had a tendency to spread. "Thank ye again. We'll see 'bout gettin' outta yer way, with yer persmission. Unless we've a service te give ye."
The girl stays dipped low, while the Lady speaks, though her head cocks to the side a bit as she listens, reminscent of a bird that look, perhaps, though she's still worrying at her bottom lip. There's worry lines to crease her forehead, even while the left foot rises to scratch the right calf. That fretting look shifts back once to her Pa too, before it returns to the Lord when he speaks, adding his thoughts to the first. And she winced outright, when the old man had to go and call it charity. With a restless shuffle from one foot to the other, the girl gave one last glance and then darted over to the mule nearest, catching its lead as it ambled towards the stable and drawing it to a stop just long enough to rummage.
With a triumphant little squeal, her slender hand waved about in the air and she proceeded to skip towards the pair of nobles; caught herself and froze so quick she almost fell over. "Ah'm sorry," for bouncin' along so quicklike, "I just..," bright eyes danced from one to the other, "if'n it pleases t'allow me t'approach," the girl begged permission from the Lord, so seen as the lady's protector; slender arm extended in his direction so that a thin leather cord could be seen, a make-shift necklace, with a wee horse there carved of pale marble on its end as a sort of charm, "Fer the Lady Frey, fer her kindness. S'from Tyrosh, that," her hand wiggled then, just enough to make the horse dance so they'd know what she was talkin' about.
The words of the commoner male draw Bryliesa's attention once more as her blue gaze settles upon him with a degree of thoughtfulness, "Do not consider it charity, sir, but an investment in the future of both your daughter and yourself. Everyone has need of a hand every now and then, regardless of the station of their birth. We simply happened to be the hands present in this time of need." Allowing her gaze to drift over to the daughter as she approaches, her eyes light a bit in amusement as she looks upon the cording with charm, "You do not have to do such, miss, but it truly is lovely. Thank you."
With a slow look back towards her own companion, the noble Frey adds easily, "There is far too little song and dance anywhere these days. We could do well with much more of it and far less of the sorrows. A fine meal, generous company, and good music would be a divine completion to this day."
Brennart nods, "Well I'm sure I could find a task to put you to if you'd like the work, all depends on the skills that you posses. But the Lady and myself must be heading in for some food. If you're in need of work just look me up, Brennart Erenford. I'll be staying here in Stonebridge for a day or two but plan on heading back to the Roost after that." He gives the man a nod and watches the daughter carefully, before addressing Brylie, "Yes m'lady there's too much severity in the land currently, there's a wonderful master bard that's been traveling the Riverlands hopefully he's here for the time being it would be a wonderful."
Gerry gave a small nod in surrender to Lady Bryliesa's fine polished improvement on her charity, though whether or not he actually agreed with it was another story. Still, a man didn't argue with a noble. His eyes followed his daughter next as she went into their packs and started to surrender their merchandice, but once he saw what it was he just smiled, and let her at it. After all it was too late to stop her now, anyway. "A small gift, for a generous offering. Perhaps if ye got a maid or somethin' who ye favor, it'd do her well." Since obviously it wasn't a noblewoman's standard of jewelery. "But it's true enough. Tyroshi made." Which lent it the vague air of the exotic.
To brennart the awkward merchant said: "I'd like that. My skills ain't no secret. Whole my life I've been killin' people. Scoutin', tracking, huntin' fer armies. After the Greyjoy rebellion, me lord released us who weren't with him long 'nuff to earn a place at his keep in peace time. So I figured I'd try me hand at somethin' peaceful."
"Ah want too," the girl insisted even as her father spoke there behind her, but beneath the weight of Brennart's look and with the absence of his permission, she comes no closer. Just keeps the bauble held out there across the distance, between herself an the Lady like it's an invisable bridge that she can't cross; the charm dancing from the cord held carefully between two fingers, so the Lady doesn't have to sully her hands to take the gift. "Please? A kindness for a kindness." No sooner said than she realized sullying herself might well be the reason the lord didn't want her closer and her head falls, just a little defeated, while her father's words ring in her ears. A gift for a maid. Of course. Silly girl. "Enjoy your supper, milord, milady," an sketched a polite curtsy with it as she waited. "An may the Gods keep yuns well an safe."
Brennart nods, "I know the Terrick's at the Roost are in need of good hunters but that would mean taking your daughter to land ravaged by war." He pauses and looks over at the man's daughter, "I appologize I didn't realize you were wanting my permission, if the Lady Frey would like the necklace I see no reason why you couldn't approach her to give it to her." He glances back at the man, "I know we could use some supplements to the Lady Frey's guards as well as my sister's guards." He shrugs slightly, "But if you're desiring something more peaceful I can put in a good word to the Terrick's to see if they have any need for a hunter. If you're good with the bow I'm in need of an archery instructor."
Reaching out to accept the gift, Bryliesa's lips curl into a genuine smile, "Thank you. It is definitely a treasure. It will be worn often." Even as the words pass her lips, the silent Tanzie at her side glances over to the necklace with a lifted brow before looking over and offering a wan smile to the girl and her father. A return blessing echoes softly from the young noblewoman towards the retreating girl, "I hope you and your father both have a pleasant evening. Please do get some rest and may you both find the peace you are searching for." Offering a polite bow of her head to bid them farewell, she finally casts her attentions fully back upon her own lordly companion, "If he is not present, I think I might fancy a story or two from you. Truth or make-believe, it makes no difference, but I do so love a good story."
With a shy dip of her head Cat colors beneath the Lords words, giving a little bob of her head in answer to his unasked question. "Ah'm glad it pleases, milady," the girl offers warmly in response, pretending she didn't notice the other looks. But there's a moment, just one, when the Lord's speaking that causes her to snort, "Walked through more messes half the squires," she boasts proudly, "An can hunt just as well as any o'tha boys," Cat grins, "Pa's a right shot with a bow, milord. Taught me, too." At which point she realizes that she is in fact, jabbering too much. "Er, beggin' yer pardons if ya don't..mind..me..Sorry." Came squeaked out at the last and with that, she retreated, to hide in her father's shadow.
"Met a man or two who were better than me with a bow, but ain't many o'em 'round. Not te be a braggard, m'Lord, but that's the plain truth. Geremy Taken got a fair eye fer a target. Teachin' is peaeful, too." He said, then retreated as the two were obviously being kept from entering the inn. He knuckled his forhead as he bowed, showing proper respect for the noble pair, before stepping back in the direction of his mules. "A g'day te ye both." He glanced at his little Cat as she started to brag, a wry little smirk on his face that he tried to hide but couldnt. A half hearted cuff went for the back of her head when she came to hide behind him, but it had neither much direction nor intent to hurt beyond the shock of physical correction.