|Summary:||There is yelling. I do what I want, Riordan.|
|Related Logs:||Things and stuff.|
|This tent is Rioran's.|
|Fri Jan 11, 289|
It's early evening in the camp, messengers run back and forth, grooms make sure the horses are properly groomed and fed. Many people are taking their evening meals now, whether in their tents or outside in the company of others depends on the person. Lord Ser Riordan Nayland, for his part, is in the tent that he's been apportioned to, eating his meal and staring at some maps as if his life depended on it. Of course, in times like these, his life very well could depend on it.
Danae does not spend the late hour dining with her own family in the Charlton tent, having left after having brewed Cherise some tea. Her feet, instead, have brought her here through the Nalyand camps to be hailed and heeled before being allowed to pass through. Her guard ever trailing at her side for even within allies, a war camp is no place for a lady alone. She catches her breath for a moment, fingers brushing against the tent flap hesitantly before she steps within, clearing her throat to announce her presence. "My lord?"
His head jerking up to see who it is who enters the tent, Riordan furrows his brow and frowns deeply. "M'lady Danae…" His shock is quite palpable. His fork drops absently to his place as he slowly stands. "Wh…" He shakes his head. "What are you doing here? Why are you here? It's dangerous!"
Blue eyes widen slightly as Riordan stands, tent flap slipping closed and creating a false seal between them and her man-at-arms who awaits just outside. Danae stares up at he rises, expression clearly saying what her words do not — this was not the reaction she was hoping for. "I accompanied my cousin, My Lord. She required my assistance and I am not…unaware for the danger," she says softly.
For the moment, Riordan doesn't seem to show any sign of softening his position. "What kind of assistance could your cousin have required that could not have been received by someone else with a similar skillset? Hmm?" He puts his hands on his hips and looks off to the side for a few seconds. "Not being unaware of the danger is one thing, but what if whoever you have protecting you gets injured or called away during a surprise attack on the camp?" He turns his head back to face Danae once more. "Hmm? You could get seriously injured. Or worse! You could get killed! And I know, for one, I couldn't live with that on my hands!"
Although Danae's features soften no further, something about her eyes seems to harden at his barrage of questioning. Her jaw, slackened into surprise, hardens at Riordan's assertions, forming a tight if forcibly pleasant line. "And who else with a similar skillset would have been willing to come with her, my Lord? I will not abandon familial duty to see to my own safety alone," she grits out, soft voice garnering a slow edge to it. "Then I die. Much as I would if they caught me unawares elsewhere. You are foolish if you think that I do not know the manners of Ironborn, my Lord. I grew up with them at our coasts and at our doors. I know well what meets a saltwife." Her voice does not rise, soft and slow as it would be in conversation. "I am sorry that you could not live with it. Would you have preferred I had not come to see you, then?"
"I dare not presume that you forget any kind of familial duty." Riordan rebuts. "I only suggest that it is unwise and perhaps foolish to come to a place so very close to where fighting is taking place! One's own safety, at times, must come before 'familial duty'." He looks past her at the tent siding behind her. "Just because you are familiar with the ways of the Ironmen does not mean you should be travelling to a place where attack and possible death is more assured than where you left! That, my dear Lady Westerling, is foolish."
"Must it?" Danae takes a step towards him, almost confrontationally as fingers clench in small fists before loosening at her sides. The small, Westerling lady just comes up to his shoulder, however jagged the tension in her form may be, may be is hard to consider it threatening. "No. It simply means that I know what awaits me should my guards fail me at any time. I own my foolishness, my Lord. I do not try to deny it."
"Well, at least you know it was foolish. But that still does not make it any less so." Riordan glares down at the Westerling woman, his brown eyes staring into her blue. "You should leave this camp as soon as possible and not look back. To do otherwise would be just as foolish." He takes a long, deep breath in. "I would rather see you back to Stonebridge than see you here with an even more looming sense of danger. I will not knowingly have you here in dangers way when I know you could be protected behind the walls of Stonebridge!" His voice is steadily rising.
"I do. It does not change the decision that /I/ have made towards my cousin," Danae replies, voice just above a whisper as she looks up at Riordan. It is for his ears alone. "Lest you would have me abandon a pregnant woman, /my lord/." The endearment almost sounds like a curse at such a hush. "It is well then…that you do not have me in either way to command isn't it? I would break that command with my actions," she says with a thick swallow, turning abruptly away from him.
"Certainly there were others just as capable of travelling with her! That being said, a pregnant woman should not be here either!" Riordan is near shouting levels now, despite the fact that Danae is standing right in front of him. "It is…foolish enough that you are here! But that a pregnant woman is here as well? That is even more foolish! She is endangering herself as well as her unborn child! If anything, you should have dissuaded her from coming here in the first place. THAT should have been your familial duty; that and NOT accompanying your cousin here!"
"A lady's requests are never greater than that of her husband. I would not leave her to make the journey alone," Danae says, voice softening in the silence that follows his bellows. She looks back up at him, eyes brightly thickened with the gloss of tears that are yet to fall, posture unbowed. "I am sorry, that I troubled you. Thank you for you…advice, my Lord. I wish you all the luck in battle." The small lady dips as if to curl into a curtsey, wavering only slightly.
"She could have travelled with guards even still! That's no excuse for you to have travelled her!" Riordan continue to shout. His nose flares as he stares at her. Taking in yet another deep breath, looking as if he's about to shout at her again, but he instead pushes past Danae, going to the entrance of the tent and opening up the flap. Pointing to a random servant rushes past, he shouts at him instead. "Bring me some wine and a couple of cups, RIGHT NOW!" Closing the flap up once more, he turns to face Danae. "You're here, we may as well get in some quality, non-argumentative time in. If you are amenable." His demeanor still slightly on edge, but he seems sincere in the offer of said time to visit.
"And what /kind/ of person would you think me if I hadn't? When she /asked/ me and when she needs me," Danae wonders bitterly, soft voice harsh with emotion. When Riordan steps past her, pushes around her, she pulls out of her slight curtsey and scrubs her hands across her across. It is an attempt at least to regain her composure. It really does nothing but redden them further, pulling a little of the gloss from their corners. Lifting her head high, she regards him coolly and brushes aside her skirts with a gentile ease. "I should think you would prefer your time alone…my lord."
Whether he heard the question or whether he's just ignoring it, Riordan doesn't show any indication of answering. Instead he points to an empty chair and says, "I could use the break from all the maps I've been looking over." He doesn't move, waiting to see what Danae ends up doing. "The company would be appreciated. After all, one way or another, you are here." While still tense, his demeanor is softening a little bit. "I would certainly hate to pass up this opportunity, either way." He makes an attempt to smile. "But, whether you stay here or not is your decision."
The small blonde form that is Danae does not do much, watching him with sharp eyes as her fingers carefully smooth down the lines of her skirts. She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath in before releasing it to regard him with a seemingly pleasant expression. It is impervious, except for her eyes which still glisten. "Indeed, I am here." To his distaste. "I would be glad to pass a cup with you, my lord." Striding elegantly across the tent, grace almost pointed as not an ounce of motion is wasted, she folds herself into the chair which he points at.
Nodding ever so slightly, Riordan moves to grab his own chair, moving it close to where Danae sits. "I am…" He pauses that thought. He would say 'happy', but he'd be happier knowing that she was somewhere safer, as he has said. "Did you know, horses seem to be able to sense a person's emotions? If a person is happy, the horse will know it. In similar fashion, the horse will know if a person is sad, angry, anxious, or any multitude of emotions. And those emotions affect the horse as well."
Danae looks at him through the honeyed fringe of her lashes, hands knitting together in her lap as Riordan moves his chair closer. The clasp is tight and brings out the freckles in her skin. "I did not, my lord. Perhaps that is why I do so poorly with them from the outset," she replies smoothly.
"Sometimes, though, a horse can be trained to be calm with an anxious person riding them. That is what I hope to do with your horse." Riordan replies simply. "We all have our various levels of ease with the creatures. And…well, not everyone has spent as much time with them as I have." He clears his throat as the wine arrives. The servant pours the cups and hands one to both Danae and to Riordan, with the latter indicating the servant to leave the wine with him and head out, which is done promptly.
"I see." The servant is extended a warmer look as Danae is handed her cup, almost given a smile as she takes it with a delicate touch. Thank you. "There is always a level of ease relevant to one's interests, be it man or horse," she offers looking back towards him.
A soft sigh is given from Riordan as he stares down at his cup. For a few moments, he just stares at it, finally lifting his gaze and looking at Danae once more. "I am happy to see you. I didn't mean to infer otherwise. I merely worry for you." He talks clearly, a slight bit of worry does come across in his voice. It's not quite an apology, but perhaps it's the best he is willing to give.
While Riordan stares down at his cup, Danae takes a stiff drink from her own, looking anywhere other than the man across from her while she does. He is only met with her full regard as he begins to speak, features even while listening to his words as they near an apology but never become it. "My lord…while I appreciate your worry kindly, I am not a child. If I had known my presence would cause you such distress, I would not have come…" Not to visit at least. The last of her words fall very softly, fingers smoothing along the rim of her glass.
A long sip is taken from his own glass as Riordan stares across at Danae. "Tell me about plants and herbs. I talk so much about horses, I feel neglect in asking you about your interests. Besides which being that you helped me with said interests, helping to rid me of the bruising just a little bit quicker." He smiles.
"I…" Danae stutters, dropping her gaze to draw a curl back behind her ear she looks down at her glass. Her cheeks flush with renwed emotion before she brings the drink back up to her lips for another sip. "My interests are of no real merit my lord. It is little that any other person read in herbs could not do. I am glad that it helped you heal all the quicker."
"But it wasn't 'any other person'. It was you, m'lady." Riordan responds softly. "And really. I am interested to hear what you have to say on subjects of healing and herbs. Honestly." He takes a sip of his wine. "You are so much more knowledgeable than I on the subject that it amazes me to hear it whenever you speak of such things!"
"Ah but my lord, it is little more than anything any other could do," Danae attests, settling back her seat as she adjusts her skirts to account for the more comfortable position. She takes another sip of wine, blue eyes sharp upon him. "It is little more than average knowledge. Although I might check in with Lady Cordelya, I hear that she has taken Ser Gedeon into her fold. His wound was more than wicked it seems."
"Still, tell me about it all. I'd like to hear." Riordan gives her a little nod. Listening to the talk about Gedeon, however, he shrugs. "I've not heard. I do hope Ser Gedeon is able to regain his health, however. It would do no good for him, or his health, to die." He smirks at his little joke as he takes a sip of the wine.
Danae blinks at his joke, taking a quiet sip of her own wine in the face of his rather black humor. "No, I would imagine not," she agrees softly. "It seems likely that the Ser will return to Stonebridge, with it being so wicked." She brushes stray snatches of blonde hair back from her eyes, somewhat errantly. "I don't know what you'd like to hear, Ser…some things mend and some things poison the body. That is the way of them."
"Yes. I suppose that would be proper. Don't want anything more to happen to him." Riordan mutters. Glancing over to Danae, he shrugs ever so slightly. "Well, how about what brought you into being interested in plants and herbs? What made you want to learn about helping to heal people as opposed to…well, learning about something else?"
"There is little need to be dragging an injured man off to battle, although I suppose it is up to his lord," Danae opines softly, sip-sipping at her glass of wine. Blue eyes observe Riordan for a long moment, before loosing a long sigh. "I did do much else. I in fact know very little about the principles of the healer, only those of the herbalism. I can great the medicine…but I may not stitch or bind beyond the basics. It is unseemly. My time was spent more on trade."
"Nor Lord would make anyone fight if they were unfit to do so. Not only would it be life threatening for the injured party, but it would hinder, thus endanger, those around him." Riordan says softly. "Besides which, it would just be cruel to consider doing such a thing as forcing a severely injured person to fight." He sips his wine. "Trade, you say? How interesting. Trade is something important to know."
"Inefficient as well," is Danae's wry summation. She is prehaps drinking her wine a little more quickly than necessary, a flush rising to her skin. "I would rather imagine that you knew that my Lord…lest Lady Isolde did not mention it. They would not have sent me so far from The Crag without cause." There is a flicker of her sorrow in her expression, chin dipping low before she passes her fingers over her eyes. "Yes. It is important indeed."
A smile upon his face, Riordan chuckle and offers Danae a little wink. "I may or may not have known that. But I would prefer to hear about you from you first hand, so I know what is true and what is not!" He says, nodding firmly. He lets out a slow breath, gazing intently at his cup as he takes another drink from it. "Tell me about your family, m'lady. Mother, father. Siblings?"
Danae smiles lopsidedly, it's a bare fraction of a thing before she buries it in another draught from her glass. "I could tell you the most felonious things, then. A word as full truth alone is dangerous." At any other time it might sound somewhat more teasing than it does at the moment, soft spoken with the slight twist of humor. Shaking her head, she brushes her fingers over her eyes again and pinches the bridge of her nose. "A few siblings. I am closest to the eldest, Dyrion. He is the head of the household at present, my father is ill disposed and my mother passed. Yourself, my lord?"
"Ah, but how could I not believe the words as spoken by you?" Riordan grins, this time taking a gulp of his wine. "Even if those words were, as you put it, felonious." He chuckles and shakes his head, sighing. He tilts his head, listening intently. "Me? I've eight siblings still living. My father and mother are…well, my father mostly is quite a strict man. He takes our family motto quite seriously. My grandmother, as a matter of fact, is still living, Seven bless her. If you've heard of her at all, you'll probably have heard her nickname…'The Hag of the Mire.' I don't know that she fancies that nickname all too well." He chuckles.
There might be an especially /dry/ shade to Danae's expression, accompanied by a pointed raise of brows while watching him drink his wine. How could you not? "You seem to have a very large family, many of whom I have met. Your…cousin, the Lord Rygar is an impressive man." She mostly listens as he details the Lady Rebekkah, shaking her head to indicate that she has not heard of the woman.
"I do at that. And that's without mentioning my uncles. My uncle Lord Tobias has five children and my uncle Lord Ser Stevron has two, one of which is my cousin Rygar." Riordan smiles, though the smile fades. "Though there is one in my family we never speak of, though it saddens me a little." He clears his throat and chuckles, "Maybe this wine is affecting me more than I know." Or maybe it's a mixture of wine and stress. Not that he'd add that last part.
"Every family has at least one…" Brushing her fingers through her hair, Danae fiddles a little with her hair before sweeping it back into place. "Yes, it is strong." The wine. The stress. Both are near palpable in the tent. Her figure is tense as she eases out of her chair to set aside her empty wine class. "I shoud l get back to my family and…see that my cousin has her tea. I am certain you have better things to do than to entertain me, maps. Yes?"
Riordan nods sadly, polishing off his cup. Standing up as Danae does, he shakes his head. "Better? No. Responsibilities to take care of? Unfortunately." He sighs. "Get back to Stonebridge safe and sound. That's the only thing I can ask. There are those out there that care too much about you to see you come into harms way." He offers her a small bow. "Good night, my Lady Danae."
"I will return safely, when it is time. We will leave before you all march on. Of that I can assure you," Danae replies delicately, voice still somewhat cool as she looks to him. The tenses in her features, even the traces of lingering irritation and angry soften as her gaze lingers as well. "I would see you safe as well." She sighs. This time when she drops into a curtsey, it is a full one with her skirts fanned out. "Goodnight, my Lord."