| Women and Booze |
| Summary: | Terrick-and-a-half discuss the former while drinking the latter. |
| Date: | 13/10/2011 |
| Related Logs: | None specifically |
| Players: |
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| Jarod's Chambers — Four Eagles Tower |
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| The bar is open. |
| Thu Oct 13, 288 |
The day that follows Jarod's return to the Tower is likely a busy one, with matters both of the search for Jaremy and the Captaincy of the Guard to occupy him. But every Terrick, with the name and otherwise, shares the same Roost, and so it's not that surprising that there is a knock on Jarod's door. Jacsen waits long enough for him to get decent if he's not, and then pushes the door open, a bottle of something doubtless alcoholic in hand. "I heard you get back in," he says, simply, as he comes inside.
Jarod spent most of the day sorting things out with his guardsmen, which fortunately isn't a duty that's changed at all with Jaremy gone. Now he's sort of hiding in his chambers to avoid questions about his wayward half-brother. He's alone, and thus more or less decent, save his boots are off and his sword's hanging on its rack instead of at his side. He's sitting at his writing table at present, though he stands and grins broadly when Jacsen enters. "Took you long enough. What've you got for us, then?" He's already rummaging around for cups that are more-or-less clean. He more-or-less finds some.
"From the North, I'm told. Smooth as can be, but it'll put a fire in your stomach like little else," Jacsen shares, holding up the bottle for his brother's inspection. "Your Rowenna seemed to like it well enough when she paid me that visit you insisted on, so I thought you might care for it some yourself…" He leans on his cane heavily as he makes his way over to the edge of Jarod's bed, and sits. "How are things settling?"
"Rowenna likes harder liquor than me. Figured that out when she was my squire," Jarod says wryly, taking the bottle and opening it. He gives it a sniff. "Still, I'll give it a go. How'd that go, anyhow? You and her and…talking." To answer the question he replies, "I was gone longer than I realized I was. There's always…stuff to do, isn't there? With ordering the men about and keeping track of things and what-not. But it's good to be back. Figured things'd feel different with Jaremy gone, but they don't as much as I'd thought." Which bothers him for some reason.
"… talking?" Jacsen repeats, his tone somewhere between questioning and amused. "Oh, it went well. Since you'd told me most of what she had to tell, we got right on to the tumbling quite quick," he shares, shaking his head. "How do you think it went? I made clear that she should do all she could to keep things to herself, and she repeated the same agreement she gave you," he shares, setting his cane aside and holding a hand out for one of those mostly clean cups. "Then we talked some about you, dolt."
"You're an asshole. You know that, right?" Jarod hands Jacsen a cup filled with the Northern liquor, before flopping himself into his favored chair. That last bit crooks his grin. "What'd you say about me?"
He shrugs a bit, "You're the one who said it like that, Jarod. Besides, I can't help how my fetching limp works on all the ladies." Jacsen lifts the cup in a silent salute to his brother, and takes a small sip. It burns as he promised, though not until it makes it to his stomach. "Oh, nothing too scandalous. Spoke well of you, and asked how things were between the both of you."
Jarod gulps his drink much like he gulps cups of wine or ale. Which is a mistake, as it makes him cough. "Fucking seven hells, where does she find this stuff?" He blinks, setting his cup down while its contents settle in him. "What'd she say?" He sounds warily curious. "I thought they were good. They are good. I think. Are they?"
Jacsen laughs a bit, and shakes his head. "Comes from my cabinet, brother, not hers," he points out, smirking. "If you'd rather something else, by all means. I don't think wine is quite enough to settle my mind at night, lately." He takes another small sip. "She didn't disagree with your thoughts on things, if you want to know. Though she didn't seem to quite want to get into it either, which…" He shrugs a bit. "… all things considered, perhaps that makes some sense."
"This'll sure as seven hells work," Jarod says. "Just got to nurse it, I guess." He tries it again, sipping this time, which seems to work just fine. "I hope things're good. Women are so strange. Especially Rowenna Nayland." Sip. "It's still weird sometimes to think about tumbling with *Rowan*, y'know? But it's…nice." He grins in a decidedly goofy manner. "I think it's nice, at least. I mean, let me know if she doesn't like something. I can do different."
He smirks a bit at that, leaning back and propping himself up with the hand that isn't holding his cup. "You sure you'd want to hear that from me? I mean, sure, I smartened up before I did something I'd really regret," Jacsen points out to his brother, "But it isn't as if things aren't… well. I don't know. We got along well, it seemed to be only weird for a few moments, maybe on account of having not talked in so long." He tosses back another small sip, still quite a bit in the cup. "Anyways. Women are certainly strange, that's a fact."
"Of course I would. I mean…that's done now, no harm come by it. Not like I haven't been stupid a time or two in my life." Jarod sips, twice, on his drink. "Anyway, don't worry over it. If you try anything with her, I'll just break your jaw. We'll be gentlemen about it." He grins.
"Oh good, because I thought a tumble would be just the thing to take the edge off my nerves, and since you've not been here to arrange a proper night out on my behalf, I was thinking she could at least pick up your slack," Jacsen teases his brother, barely withholding the laughter. He flexes his jaw back and forth. "I'm sure it'll heal alright, won't it?"
"Fuck you," Jarod says, balling up a fist and aiming it to cuff Jacsen's chin. Lightly. He's laughing as he does it, so he plainly doesn't think *actual* violence is required. "Not before Daddy Banefort arrives, and wouldn't that be funny to explain."
He holds up a hand, laughing after the jesting blow to his chin. "Fine, fuck, don't share, see if I care…" Jacsen finishes the rest of his cup and holds it out towards his brother for a refill. "Seriously though, she did mention one thing I suppose as a good brother I should share with you…?"
"What?" Jarod asks, finishing his drink while he waits for an answer. Apparently thinking it might be necessary. He pours another.
Jacsen shrugs with one shoulder, taking another small sip before he offers, "She mentioned something about… fire. Passion, I guess." He shakes his head, "Who knows with women? I mean, I wasn't quite keen on asking about things between you both like that. She wants more. From you."
"What!?" That one surprises Jarod. He blinks. "I mean…things're working fine. As far as that goes. Did she say they weren't? Because that is completely not true! I mean it's not like I've ever not…that works just fine!" Defensive knight is defensive.
He groans at that, "Oh, for fuck sake, Jarod. I'm quite sure you can get yourself worked up for her benefit, beneath her pretending to be a boy she is rather attractive… That's not what she means, if I read her well at all." Jacsen near rolls his eyes. "As if I'm needing to explain this to you."
"You're damn right I can!" Jarod proclaims with a firm nod. "Ask any girl in town, I work just fine, and any who say I don't is a filthy liar." He blinks a few times, puzzled. Which is at least better than righteous indignation about his ability to perform for a girl. "Explain what? If *that's* all right, and it *is*, what's the fucking problem? I mean, no pun intended."
Jacsen glances at the ceiling, and lets out a breath. "Okay, let me try it this way. How're things different between you and her, than, say, you and any of the girls you've had at the Rockcliff?"
"Well I don't have to pay her, do I?" Jarod replies, going for the easy joke first. "What're you on about?"
Jacsen can't help but laugh a little. "I sure fucking hope not. But I mean… when you're together? Whores don't need to feel wanted, or whatever, Jarod, they just need you to get hard so they can earn their coin. But she's not a whore, so do you let her know how much she's wanted? I'll go out on a limb, one of my good ones, and figure since she likes to hit people with weapons, she isn't all about flowers and poems, she probably wants… you know, thrills? Fuck, Jarod, I thought you knew all of this?"
"Of course I want her. I'd not be with her if I didn't, would I?" Jarod huffs, slouching down in his chair. "Women are so *weird*. I think she would like poems and shite, Jace, is the thing. I had to tell her I didn't think it was a good idea if she went on writing love notes and stuff, like she did when she was playing at the whole Lady Anonymous thing." Which must've gone over really well. "But, I mean, it's not like we can be too stupid about each other, is it? That'd just make it harder for her to keep secret what she is. I don't want to ruin her because people're wondering why I'm picking flowers for Rowan Nayland. Doesn't mean I don't like her. I *really* like her." He gives his brother a rather pleading look. "What should I do?"
He scrubs his face for a moment and then tosses back a quick swallow. "Listen, I…" Jacsen lets out a breath. "If it were me, Jar? I'd pick some flowers, write some poem or whatever, and tell anyone too interested for their own good to go fuck themselves and keep out of my business," he tells his brother, "And I'd stop reminding her every two seconds about being careful, and how you're worried about ruining things for her… Women like her, they like a little bit of danger, a little bit of you taking control and her not quite knowing how everything is going to work out. Women are complicated, and weird, but what else can get your blood boiling like one?"
"But I actually *could* ruin her if I fuck this up, Jace. Lord Rickart Nayland actually *is* an asshole who likely would drag her back to the Mire in chains to marry some blotchy Frey if he knew what she was doing. And if my being an idiot caused some part of that, I don't think I could forgive myself. I care about her. I don't want to hurt her, y'know?" Jarod sighs, brow furrowing as he thinks on this whole matter. Very hard. "I guess flowers wouldn't look too bad. I could do that."
"But I actually *could* ruin her if I fuck this up, Jace. Lord Rickart Nayland actually *is* an asshole who likely would drag her back to the Mire in chains to marry some blotchy Frey if he knew what she was doing. And if my being an idiot caused some part of that, I don't think I could forgive myself. I care about her. I don't want to hurt her, y'know?" Jarod sighs, brow furrowing as he thinks on this whole matter. Very hard. "I guess flowers wouldn't look too bad. I could do that." *re*
Jacsen shrugs his shoulders. "She wants excitement, Jarod, all women do. Whatever it is you choose to do… you need to make her feel excited. Wanted. Craved. Like she drives you mad when you're apart," he insists. "If you don't… care for you all she might, some other man eventually will." He lifts his cup, and takes a swallow. "Some prim and proper lady without any worldliness might be different but… Ros- Rowenna is a woman who's done a lot to be where she is. She knows what she wants, Jarod, and if you want to keep her around, you got to give it to her."
"I just…I want to do this right," Jarod says. Like he's not even sure quite what that means, but he's very earnest about it. "And I…have no fucking idea what I'm doing." He shrugs, somewhat helplessly. "She probably thinks I'm an idiot. I figured she would, sooner or later. What should I do? I mean, a thing. I should do a thing. What kind of thing should I do?"
He nods once, getting up from the bed after he reaches for his cane, pushing up to his feet. "You ought to do something, Jarod," Jacsen agrees. "Surprise her, take her somewhere romantic, tumble her into next week… whatever. Put you need to make her bloody well feel it. Remember, she's in it for how you make her feel, not for coin." He swallows the rest of his drink and crosses over to set his cup down on the table by his brother.
"I think I can manage that," Jarod says, cracking a grin as he downs the rest of his drink as well. "I'll give it a shot, at least. I don't want to lose her. I just…it'd be nice if she told me what she wanted me to do, so I could just do it. This is hard." Not that he sounds like he's precisely complaining. "Thanks for the drink. Oh. We should talk about your problems. About how you're the heir now and you're going to have to marry Jaremy's girl and do a bunch of other shite our brother skipped out on so he could go build a mercenary army or something."
The cup's set down, and Jacsen doesn't pick it back up, or look to refill. "Yeah, thanks for remembering," he points out with a short, almost humorless laugh. "Maybe you could let me have a go round with your girl, yeah? Nice way of saying thanks, and all… Would probably do wonders for this headache I can't shake, besides." That last bit is more serious than his comment about his brother's girl. He puts a hand on Jarod's shoulder and squeezes lightly, saying, "Good luck, whatever you decide. She seems worth it, for, well, whatever that's worth. I think I'm going to try and sleep. Fail, I'm sure, but try all the same."
"I mean it, I will fuck you up if you mess around with her," Jarod says, standing to see Jacsen off properly. He's grinning as he says it, though it's not really a joke. "You should drink more." His advice about how not to fail at sleeping. He eyes his brother with some concern. "Sorry I got on about Rowenna. My problems aren't much of anything compared to yours. For which I thank the Seven, little brother, make no mistake. Anyhow. Sleep if you want to. If not, I could still use the company. We can stay up and drink ourselves stupid and talk about all the girls back in Seagard we never managed to mess around with. Just take care of yourself, all right?"
He draws a breath through his nostrils and sighs. "Fuck, you're a bad influence." Jacsen gestures towards the bottle. "Come on then, we've got plenty of liquor left."
