|While I am away|
|Summary:||Rutger asks some things of Senna, while he prepares to head to King's Landing|
|Related Logs:||Riverrun logs, The who holds stonebridge saga, etc.|
|Rutger's chambers within Hag's Mire|
|A few days after Remembrance Day|
An evening breeze allows some cool air to filter through an opened window as night descends on the Mire. Already children can be heard giggling as a maid directs them out of the chambers of the knight, who is left with his hands resting at his hips for a moment, eyes staring a hole through the door that's been left open a crack. A shake, and he is turning, moving back towards the table nigh the open window. Hand moves to grab of the flagon left there, before he is pouring himself some wine.
As the sounds of the swamp filter with the breeze, Rutger Nayland is turning and moving towards a desk-one hand reaching for the pile of parchment-which is carelessly tossed onto his bed. Fingers move up to rub at his brow, before he is sipping-which turns itself into a gulp of the cool wine. "Seven damn them.." muttered, before he is drawing his chair, and slumping down in.
Servants are a constant presence in any keep, and the Mire is no exception. Where most of the keep's servants have a specific task, though, Senna can often be found filling in for various tasks. Tonight, she's carrying a tray from the kitchen, balanced against one hip as she taps a single knuckle against the door. "Your dinner, Ser," she calls in a low tone, modulated to carry into his rooms without ringing through the halls.
A turn of his head, before there's a wave of his hand. Of course it's highly doubtful whomever called to him can see it, but that dawns on him only a second too late. "Come in." said before he is turning his head to look towards the Mistress. Eyes slide back towards the hallway before he is rising up from where he was seated. "Ah, Senna.", a tug at the corner of his lips before he is moving to close the door behind her once she does come in. Rutger can always slouch later. "I was hoping to catch you sometime before I was to depart in the morning.
Senna slips in through a narrow opening of the door, knees bending in the suggestion of a curtsey as her skirts brush by him. "Then it is convenient that I was in the kitchens when this needed to be delivered, is it not, my lord?" she replies, a flicker of a smile at one corner of her lips, not quite hidden as she starts to transfer the plates and bowls from the tray to the table. Each motion is efficient, practiced at being unobtrusive, and she only watches him from the corner of her eye. She does, however, most certainly watch him.
Whether or not he is aware of it, he doesn't say, nor give notice. Perhaps just the usual drag of eyes over her, before he is moving from the door once it is securely shut. A tilt of his head as eyes move from woman to meal. "Hmm. Fortuitous, I would say, my dear.", a sip of wine now before he is coming over to reach for a grape. A glance over his shoulder. "And what have you been keeping youself busy with today-that I was only able to find you now? "Or rather she find him. Still Rutger waits for her to answer before he is continuing on. "I am being sent on to King's Landing tomorrow. I'll take a round about way to get there, of course-but I am going there."
"A bit of this, a bit of that, my lord," Senna answers, stepping to the desk to refill his glass. "Bridget in the village thought she might be having the babe. False alarm, though. You'd think after five of them she'd know the difference." At his mention of King's Landing, though, she turns, letting her gaze settle on the lord for more than just a moment. "To bring the Stonebridge cause to the King, I imagine?"
Rutger is quiet for a moment, content to shift his wine glass before he is setting it down and turning to look back, food forgotten for now. "I wonder if a cow or bitch knows after so many litters. Or if it just sneaks up on the mother? I know when my youngest was born, Emilia still seemed in shock that it was happening. No- I bet it is the emotion that comes with it. Excitement in the breast.." his voice drops as he takes a few steps closer towards Senna.
"Among other things yes. Since our bit of failure at Riverrun, I am forced to press this to a higher court. Lord Tully was all too happy enough to pat his favorites on the back, as you remember. But, in his little proclamation, he made a queer mistake." Not that he has to explain this out to Senna. "So I am going to do what I can to exploit that with our credible evidence and see if we can't just end this now." a raise of a brow. "Would you like me to bring you back, something pretty?"
Senna arches a brow at that question, a faint, amused curve to her lips. "Something pretty," she muses. "I imagine King's Landing is full of pretty things. Pretty things are ten to a penny, though." She moves to step past him, brushing closer than is strictly necessary, only to straighten the silverware on the table. "Perhaps something…sharper," she murmurs, trailing the tip of her finger along the edge of the knife.
"Something that'll prick?" asked innocently enough, as he remains rigidly still. The closeness isn't remarked on, and he doesn't reach out. instead there is a faint nod. "I can see about that." said after a moment. "I'll need you to be my eyes here and in Stonebridge when you are there. I need to know how things are being run, or if there are any complaints against my brother, by my kin." Rutger says after a moment. His hand only barely reaching out to brush his hand against hers, if only to move the knife back into a crooked position. "And make sure my sons are fine." that last request a bit personal, as he will not be dragging them along with him. "Or, is that too hard and too much for you?"
Senna hums softly, the stifled sound of a laugh deep in her throat. "Pretty things are nice, but of little use to me, and what's the point of having something pretty if you only hide it away?" The question of his sons earns an arch of her brow as her eyes flick toward the door where they left, lashes lowering quickly to hide the expression there. "You think your sons are in danger, my lord?" she asks as she looks back, lips curving. "Certainly not from Lord Ryker and Lady Isolde, I hope."
"Who says, I would want you to hide it away? I can think of choice places to wear such baubles." Rutger says with a faint grin, before he is looking back to you. A blink before he is shaking his head. "Oh no. Not in danger. I simply won't be here for scabbed knees and broken arms. I know they have their grandfather..But.." at the same time it's not the same. "Just, please honor me something that light-I doubt someone is going to put the pair of them in sacks and drown them." a shake of his head before he's chuckling. "So something of use. Hm. That limits things.."
"Scabbed knees and broken arms I can see to, my lord," Senna agrees with a dip of her chin. "Though I'm afraid I'm better equipped to deal with fathers than sons." Head tilting, she watches him for a long moment in silence. Measuring. "I've heard the king is even more easily led by his baser instincts than young Tully," she murmurs, voice low. "Though I've also heard the Queen is prone to deal harshly with those who indulge those instincts."
"I've heard such rumors myself. If I can, I'll see what I can tempt with coin down there. Believe me, I am going to court, I might as well be fucking courting." Rutger replies before there's a reach-quick, and hard for the woman's wrist. Whether or not he catches her is another thing all together. "And another reason, while we will be keeping you here." his voice soft despite his own quick and harsh actions. Eyes search for a moment, as if trying to figure something out. "Are you? All fathers? or just some?"
There is the briefest moment where it seems Senna might block his grab - a twist of her wrist, something with at least a little training and practice behind it - or slip away once more. But she catches herself - consciously - and so he catches her as well. "Let us say, my lord, that there are some things which are more art than science. And art is best appreciated by those with the experience to recognize it for what it is."
The grip is hard for a second, but as if Rutger remembered himself, it softens and his thumb merely smoothes over flesh before the wrist is released. "I will have to see this art of yours in action." Whether now or some other time is not entirely clear from the Nayland knight. Still he nods. "But please, should something happen here or with my brother in Stonebridge, I do require you to send me a message as you can. The less conspicuous the better." And he watches Senna for a moment, before asking. "Have I left anything out?"
Senna's lips curve slowly. "My lord, I'm sure you saw the young trout when I was finished with him. And he certainly had little enough appreciation for art." She wrinkles her nose, though she's quick enough to smooth her features as Rutger delivers his orders. "I'll send word, my lord," she promises, as though his grip were not in effect at all. "Do you know where you'll be staying, that I might best direct the message?"
"I did indeed. But I did not pass a grade as to his mettle." A faint grin before he simply nods back. " There is an inn close to the Keep, that is going to serve for my needs. It is called the Queen's Arms. Personally, I would rather remain at the Queen's Legs. I hear they're always open.." the quick joke thrown out, he continues on. "I'll send one of my men back with a report to Lord Rickart once I've arrived and been received at Court, that way you will at least know where I am. I don't know how long this business will need to take, but once it is concluded I'll come home my own way." There's a glance back to his dinner and he turns to the table, and it seems he is going to try and eat something tonight beyond a grape to go with his wine.
"Fair," Senna laughs low to Rutger's assessment of Edmure. As he turns to the table, she moves to stand beside it, lifting the napkin and shaking it out with a snap of her wrists. "I will keep my lord informed of events here," she promises. "Or at least the interesting ones. I doubt the Terricks will press their advantage in any meaningful way. They seem…more inclined to react than to act."
"It's a defensive strategy, that is for sure. And not all of them, are completely dumb as the eldest was." said with a faint smirk. Rutger slides his hand out onto the table for a moment, allowing fingers to rap on the wood, before there is a nod given over to Senna. "Thank you." and completely deadpan Rutger merely comments. "I'll be sure to bring you a grand prick." A snap of fingers. "Knife. Whatever the fuck you want."
Senna's voice is low, a soft purr of sound as she waits for him to sit before drawing the napkin across his lap. "I am here to serve, my lord," she murmurs. "I am certain my lord knows best what should reward loyalty and service." Once more she tops off his glass, then steps back, dipping into a curtsey. "Is there anything else my lord requires?"
A faint smile shows on Rutger's face before he is looking back towards Senna. "I can think of a few things, my dear. But, I fear now is not the time." his own grin wins through before he raises a simple brow. "Come by later, when the bustle around the keep has died down?" Of course she does not have to, Still he holds the question there before he is seeing to cutting into his dinner finally. "Until then, Senna." No mistress. After all there is none here, but their own ears-yes?
"Of course, my lord." Other ears or no, Senna is nothing if not a cautious creature. But once Rutger has settled in, she dips one more curtsey, then slips from the room…though not without letting her hips sway perhaps a bit more than is strictly necessary.