|Summary:||Roslyn takes Danae's measure and the women trade well wishes.|
|Related Logs:||Riordan/Danae logs & the succession of Stonebridge logs.|
|Stone Camp — Stonebridge|
|Wed May 16, 289|
Perhaps it is not something that Danae should grow accustomed to, but yet another Nayland comes calling at the camp where the Tordane banner flies. This one, however, is a bit more delicate than the rest. Accompanied by a lady's maid and two guards in Nayland colors, the Lady Roslyn makes no pretense at being someone she is not. Her velvet riding habit marks her as a lady, colored like blood, and there is something about her features that mark her even more as a Nayland, similar to her brothers. She dismounts some few feet away from the camp, sweeping skirts around herself to draw slowly to the edges of that invisible border to allow guards to meet hers.
It might be the quick word of a maid, from her eyes to her lady's ears, but it is a short time before the mourning shrouded Tordane leaves her tent to greet her guest. A member of her guard follows behind the dark length of her gown, ever a shadow with a sword. That invisible perimeter holds until she reaches it; a pair of guards matching Roslyn's two in Nayland hues. "My Lady Nayland," Danae greets softly, folding her hands at her waist as her gaze darts towards the guards. Roslyn earns the same regard, keen eyes sliding over her expensive riding habit with a merchant's candor. "What an unexpected surprise, I haven't anything appropriate prepared."
"In speech, my lady Tordane, or in refreshment? For the former, I should be glad, and for the latter, I think I shall trust in your honor without requiring to take of your hospitality," Roslyn replies with a tip of her chin, her own gaze sliding over Danae with a sharp study as well, though likely a different cause. "May we speak in private, Lady Danae? Perhaps a walk, trailed of course by our guards."
You say, "Either, in truth, Lady Nayland. Although I find any practiced speech rarely carries itself past the most basic of pleasantries," Danae answers calmly, meeting that that stark study without hesitation. "Very well though, we shall hold of our salt and bread." At the Lady Roslyn's request, she tips her chin in a gracious nod and offers the other woman a mild smile. "Of course, Lady Roslyn. It is quite a lovely day for it. There is a charming turn this way." An elegant extension of her fingers in made in the direction of the nearby grasses and glades that line the camp, guard falling into places behind her footfalls."
"Either, in truth, Lady Nayland. Although I find any practiced speech rarely carries itself past the most basic of pleasantries," Danae answers calmly, meeting that that stark study without hesitation. "Very well though, we shall hold of our salt and bread." At the Lady Roslyn's request, she tips her chin in a gracious nod and offers the other woman a mild smile. "Of course, Lady Roslyn. It is quite a lovely day for it. There is a charming turn this way." An elegant extension of her fingers in made in the direction of the nearby grasses and glades that line the camp, guard falling into places behind her footfalls.
Her own smile catching at her lips, the Lady Roslyn only gathers her skirts and turns to fall in beside the other lady, only a look given to her guards and maid to have them fall far enough behind that they could catch no word of what she says. "Of course, I did not merely come to walk with you, Lady Tordane. I must admit, I was rather curious about the woman who had so much rumor about her," she says simply.
"I cannot imagine that you would, Lady Nayland," Danae demurs with the subtle curve of a smile. "We are not so well acquainted as that, I am afraid that this is our first conversation beyond courtesy. Your habit is very fetching, from where do you ride today?"
"Lady Roslyn, if you would please," the woman offers easily, light where she smiles in turn softly. Roslyn smoothes her fingers against her habit, adding, "I am surprised it does not smell much to offend your presence, given how long I have been in it. There have been many days of riding, these last few." She pauses, glancing towards Danae with a soft quirk of her brow.
"Then Lady Danae, if you wish," Danae offers in turn, lifting a hand to tuck a lock of blonde hair back behind her ear. The Nayland woman's habit is given a cursory look, idling on the marks of her fingers against the habit. "That is just as well that it cuts a stunning sight then. Now doubt any who might have glimpsed you would be too far in admiration to notice any supposed scent," she smiles, allowing the Lady her avoidance with a courtier's grace. "I will admit, my Lady Roslyn. Yours is a name that is known to me, your visit grows ever more mysterious by the minute."
"Not so mysterious, is it, if we dismiss the rumors of my brother's behavior to you as obsessive and violent, is it? I know my brother well, Lady Danae, and I know that he speaks true when he speaks of his—affection for you," Roslyn draws out slowly, careful in her words as they come as neutrally as such a statement could be made.
"No, then it only becomes only more mysterious, my Lady." Danae does not comment on Riordan's…affections, hands clasped primly at her waist as she regards Roslyn calmly.
Slowing for a moment to draw hazel eyes over Danae with an attentiveness, Roslyn answers seriously, "Then it will surely be a disappointment, that I only come to see the lady who has captured my brother's heart so thoroughly."
So intent are those hazel eyes of Roslyn's, it is unlikely that they miss the flicker of pain that crosses Danae's features at her words. "Whatever your brother believes…my Lady," she murmurs, shaking her softly as she trails off. "I do not know that you will find her here."
"Have you so changed since then, Lady Danae?" Roslyn questions softly, something of sympathy touching her words where she stills and stops only to turn fully on the other lady. Perhaps hoping she will do the same.
The blonde Tordane stops as Roslyn does, turning towards the other woman with a soft, sad smile. "I am sure a great many people would say that I have, Lady Roslyn," Danae replies frankly, looking up through the blonde veil of her lashes. "But, no. I have not."
"I will not press further on my brother's beliefs, then. Or whom he may or may not love," the other lady allows quietly, her fingers gathering in her skirts as she studies the woman again. Roslyn says instead, "They will speak of you for generations, Lady Danae. What they say will depend on whether you lose this gambit or win." A pause, her brow curving upards slightly. "Do you feel it is truly worth it?"
"A kindness," Danae murmurs, offering the Nayland lady a soft smile for the subject's passing. Her freckled hands remain comfortably clasped at her waist, skin starkly pale against the onyx fabric. "They just may, my Lady." The thought seems to neither please nor displease her. It is simply a fact. The story of a true scandal, especially one so muddied in rumors and romantics, resonates over time. She tilts her head at the question. "I cannot say, not yet. I am afraid that my answer changes from day to day. If you had asked my the day after my husband had died, I would have told you no."
"Those spoken of in stories often do not live long,
"Those spoken of in stories often do not live long," Roslyn replies, holding up a finger in a gesture of patience as she continues with a soft smile, "Not that I threaten you, my lady Danae, but it seems to be a fact. You have put yourself in a vulnerable position, and there are people that hold no love for your person." That smile seems to slip away for a moment, her gaze dropping to the lady's hand but no move made to take it. Instead, she adds, "There must be some other accord we could come to, that you may live long for your child and put no risk to my own house."
Patience is something that Danae possesses in large amounts. She quietly and agreeably waits for the Lady Roslyn to finish her thoughts, the edge of her smile quirking in a slight smile. "No. I would not presume such. I am aware of my vulnerability, but I no hold venom towards those. If I bear none for them in return, I at least can see the cause of it." Of an amnesty…well. "If there is, my Lady Roslyn, then I have yet to think of one that would be so acceptable for all involved. I will not object to hear any thoughts you might have."
"My brother has already brought what thoughts I may have had to you, my lady, and I understand they were not well received." There is a hint of humor to the words, perhaps wry and inappropriate, but there all the same as Lady Roslyn smooths her fingers over her skirts again. "If you were to marry Riordan, call any child his, and give up your claim of Stonebridge—. It is perhaps not as good an offer as becoming the Lady Regent of Stonebridge, but safer," she admits quietly. "And, it would solve another problem of mine, my lady, though you have no reason to do me any favors. It would make my brother happy, married to the woman he loves."
"I see." Those thoughts. There is a very mild arch of Danae's brows that betrays her in memory of those thoughts, although the hit of wry humor is met with a smooth smile on the Tordane lady's lips. "Then no, my Lady, perhaps they might have come better from voiced by your own lips than those of the Lord Regent." It is a compliment and a dismissal all at once. Her blonde lashes dip and shutter her gaze once Roslyn has finished; she blows out a low breath. It is deep and slow, like she had forgotten to breath with her mind so occupied with the Nayland woman's words. "It would be safer. It very well might be wise. I do not believe that I could make your brother happy, my Lady. I am sorry for that."
"As am I, Lady Danae. There are too few opportunities in life to marry for love, to forge our own destinies," Roslyn murmurs in reply, her fingers finally lifted to touch against the lady's arm in a light brush of comfort or sympathy or perhaps solidarity. She adds, "I cannot begrudge you that you are attempting your own."
"As ever though, Lady Roslyn. If the Seven are kind enough to bless us with one, it is only ever the one." Never both. Never love and duty. Never promises and honor. It is something learned only by the hard press, showing in the blend silk and steel in her tone. A slow, quiet smile curves Danae's mouth at the brush to her arm, direct gaze dropping and softening altogether — shades of the girl who was to be seen by one who never knew her.
There is a steadiness to Roslyn's presence, no rush to speak nor careless gesture as she considers the lady's words. She only concludes, wryly but thoughtful, "The Seven have blessed you more than most, my lady, I must think. Though, they have evenly weighted you with pain." She tips her chin, gaze trailing back to her guards as if drawn by some invisible reminder of their positions. Where it returns, she adds, "I have little to offer you, my lady, as you have set yourself against my house. But, I shall wish that the Seven keep you safe."
They are not a pairing of soaring emotions and womanly swoons, but for the guards the picture that they cut against the landscape is unremarkable. The only hint of their vast differences in their contrasting details. Dark to Fair. Red to Black. Nayland to Tordane. "The scales of the Father are ever so evenly set," Danae demurs, tracing Roslyn's trail back to their guards with a flit of her own. "All things meet their balance in time or at least so I believe." Blinking slowly, her blue eyes meet that gaze with little hesitation as she offers, "I have just so little to offer in return, but your wishes shall be matched my Lady. Your graciousness is a thing to be seen, I wish we had met under better circumstances." Too long, too late.
"One day, this business will be done and decided one way or the other, my lady. If the Seven keep you safe, perhaps we will meet under better circumstances then," Roslyn replies easily, polite though the curve of her smile speaks to the thought that it is not likely to be. She sweeps a curtsy in the thick fall of velvet skirts, bowing her dark head briefly. "I must go, however. It would not be seemly to linger over long in your camp, for either of us."
"Perhaps you will be right," Danae agrees gently, dipping her chin in a delicate nod for all that she catches that curve. Better to stay polite than lay voice to what likely will not be. In an elegant fold of deep skirts, she sinks into a cutsy to meet Roslyn's. "Of course, my Lady. Thank you…for your visit and your wishes. I hope the Seven will bless you kindly in days to come."
Roslyn only nods softly, the cant of her head polite and accepting before she gathers her skirts to turn to walk back to her guards. They do not, as she said, linger in the Tordane