|Weasels and Wildfire|
|Summary:||An argument between Walden and Saffron.|
|Date:||06 June 2012|
|Related Logs:||Laying Waste to Bandits, Aaaaaaaawkward, and the Frey Courtship|
|June 5, 289|
It is hard not to hear the shouts that ring out from the room. An awkward-looking Punbah Buttonton stands beside the door, desperately trying not to listen as the pair shout and scream. He is surprised that she can scream that much after the bruises to her throat, but nothing will stop a daughter of Alyss Banefort from showing her anger. He glances over to his best chum and fellow Saffron watch-guard Timmen Potts. Unlike Punbah, Timmen has his ear pressed against the wood, his expression straining to get every, single syllable.
"All you did was send a godsdamn raven, and then what, Walden? Sat up here and waited?"
"I will not be talked to like this! I did what was necessary!" Walden squeaks angrily, almost panicked. "They asked for ten dragons! I sent for ten dragons!"
"How much should they have asked for you to get off your Frey ass and join the efforts!" Saffron shoots back with a venomous tone.
"My effort was in arranging for a safe return, not prancing about like rabid dogs looking to swing my sword at something!"
"You haven't got a bloody sword to swing with anyway!"
"Not everyone likes swords!"
"Then perhaps you should have hired some!"
Walden's reply must be mumbled, as Timmen strains to near the man's inaudible excuse.
"By the Seven," Saffron responds, her volume still at maximum, "I don't want to hear your godsdamn excuses, Walden Frey! Those men… Groveses, and Naylands, and Terricks, and Mallisters —"
"Oh!" Walden erupted finally with some backbone. "Don't you go and start bringing up the Mallisters! I've heard all about that."
Both Timmen and Punbah wince, sharing slightly worried looks.
"Oh-ho," Saffron says in a slightly quieter half-laugh. "You have no fucking right to look like some jealous, petulant child. Like them, hate them, but at least one of theirs was there to pull me out of that Hells hole. You wanted to be the hero, then you should have gotten off of your weaselly, cowardly, good for nothing —"
Saffron's words ends in an abrupt rage from Walden as he screams so loud and shrill, his voice cracks. "You will not speak to me like this!" An audible cry is heard from Saffron, and there is the sudden shatter of breaking glass. Both of the Banefort guards look as if they are about to ready to storm the door until they hear the sound of a loud, swift slap. Walden cries out in pain and shock. "You hit me!"
"Touch me again, Walden Frey, and I will make you eat your own fingers!"
In anger, not even Saffron can walk silently as she thunders to the door. Both guards spring back just in time for the door to be violently yanked open. Saffron Banefort stands there, still facing inward into the room. Just beyond her, his cheek inflamed from the slap, Walden Frey glowers after her. At his feet, the pitcher of lemonade they had been expected to share, has been shattered and is soaking into the rug.
"May the Crone take you," Walden shouts after her, his voice shaking in rage. "I will not have such… a raging bitch— " Timmen and Punbah both ruffle up even while their charge holds her ground. " —for a wife!"
"Then we are in agreement, Walden Frey," Saffron bites back, her pale eyes bright like blue flame. "For I would not have such a coward for a husband." There is a dangerous little smile that forms at her lips. "Do you know what? I bless those bandits, for if not for them, I'd still have to wear that ugly dress!" She turns with a flurry of green skirts, moving like wildfire down the stairs.
"Milord," Punbah and Timmen say together with half-bows, and then hastily to bound after the Banefort girl.