(514-04-16) Brothers and Sisters
Summary: Kamron comes home from court with two Laverstocks, who get to meet his sister Heulwen.
Date: March 16, 514
Related: Rescuing Ladies and Feeding Them Porkchops and A Day At Court
heulwen kamron lainn arian 

It is late afternoon, and while the sun is up, the sky is threatening dusk any minute now as the orange globe descends toward the horizon. The manor proper is bustling as usual with people moving about at their chores; even if someone is not doing something at present, they are moving purposefully as if headed for some very important occupation. Within the low, wide house itself, however, the atmosphere of barely-suppressed hyperactivity calms into something much more domestic, much more manageable. Servants move about their work with silent efficiency, disappearing just as quickly as they are spotted, as good servants are wont to do.

One lady in particular, a young Heulwen, is seated in the cozy solar near a window, sucking up the last rays of afternoon sun to tend to her work. She holds up a large man's tunic toward the light, squinting as she examines the neat, steady stitches used to fix up a particularly large rend in the fabric. With a sigh of exasperation, she crumples the faded linen in her lap and gazes out the window; she tilts her head as if listening intently for the sound of something happening, surrounded by a quiet air of barely-suppressed impatience as if *waiting*.

Kamron is still dusty from the road as he opens the door, closing it quickly behind him to cut off the swirl of spring winds that goes skirling through the hall, shuffling rushes about. "Sorry." That's spoken to the page — some cousin or another — trying to corral the floor-coverings and get them into some sort of order. The knight shakes a relatively light rain off his cloak, pulling the furred protection off his shoulders as he makes his way down the hall toward the fire at the other end. As he approaches his sister, he offers up a crooked smile, not quite to its full mischievous magnificence, but certainly broader than when he passed through Dinton on the way to Sarum, "Should I be getting you a candle, Wen? It'll be dark soon, and Deyr," their cousin, the heir, "is likely to complain if you hand back his shirt stitched up crooked." Yes, he's definitely teasing her.

The opening of the door is all Wen needs to pull her from the terribly lame distraction of reviewing her stitches - done, thankfully, when the light was still high. Even the intermittent rain clouds aren't enough to ruin this work, although not much can be said for the pile of mending still sitting in a rush basket by her feet. She rises from her chair as Kamron enters, thankful at last to see him, and lets out a cheery, airy laugh at his comment. The shirt is tossed (carefully) into her abandoned seat as she dives for her brother with arms spread, obviously coming in for a hearty hug. "Brother! I was hoping to see you when you got back from court! Come sit, you must be thoroughly exhausted. Was it a hard ride? What happened? Are you alright? But of course Lysie would have taken care of that right off."

The words come out in a breathless tumble as she pulls away, picking at his cloak clasp to help him off with the garment so he can get more comfortable. "Shall I call for some supper? And a candle, I suppose." She pauses in her chatter long enough to cast a dubious glance toward the window before looking back to him with eyebrows raised expectantly. "You must tell me *everything*, and spare no detail. And when you are done, I have a present for you, and a story that you might find amusing."

Kamron steps forward to return the hug with interest, although the tumble of words causes his laughter to rise, the knight shaking his head in amusement. "One thing at a time, Wennie." He might have done that just to get the burble to slow. "We're all unhurt. Lysie didn't have to do anything beyond be her charming self and deal with all of us knights for near a month." He ducks out of the cloak at her aid, "The highlights are that we succeeded, Sir Ifron's son," Sir Ifron would be the dead knight that charged them with the quest, "is back in Arnsford after being safely recovered. We also ran into some Picts in Devonshire, but dealt with them with no serious wounds." Besides the rather nasty bruising that has mostly faded on his side. He pauses there, counting events — or sisterly questions — on his fingers, then adds, "Court was delightful, at least so long as I was there. Earl Robert is pleased with our success, the Burcombes caused even more trouble, but nothing beyond the usual…" Looking back to the door, he gestures in greeting, "Wen, I would like you to meet Sir Lainn de Laverstock and his sister, Sir Arian de Laverstock. They decided to stop by briefly after court before going home." It's only a day each way, that's not too much for a friendly visit, right?

"Are you sure?" Wen inquires quite persistently, poking at Kamron here and there - shoulder, ribs, back. Even still, she frees herself from her inspection long enough to shake free his cloak and dust away some of the dirt of the road from it. She slings it over her arm, cradling it in the crook of her elbow, and her lips curve upward in a half-smile as he tries to buffet away her unwavering slew of questions. Nevertheless, she seems pleased at his presence; her gaze is one of true sisterly adoration, as if perhaps he is the only one in the world who matters at this moment. Perhaps it is for this that she has such a knack. Her lips part as if to press upon him yet another series of questions, but she is interrupted by the appearance at the threshold to the solar of two other knights. "Oh!" she murmurs, resting her free hand on Kamron's arm briefly before offering a brief, respectful curtsey in greeting to the newly arrived. "Be welcome to the house of Dinton. Cloaks, please! I will call for some supper—and some beer. You must be parched. Please, everyone, sit." She seems quite content to play hostess, it appears, and quite ready to tend to the needs of all. Obviously someone should wife her soon.

Less brought and more drug, it was a mixed blessing for Lainn. One the one hand, it got him out of a castle that was overly stuffy with the obscene amount of heavy breathing from the packed crowd he was forced to navigate through. The man wasn't even sure /why/ he had to be there, only that he was. So when Arian decided it was time to go, he got carried along for the ride. "Why in the blazes did we have to go through again? Because of course the first one in line to get shoved in a room and hear people talk about things I hardly care about." he grunts, rubbing at his now grown out beard. Although when they arrive at the Dinton manor, he looks a bit perplexed, casting a look to his sister. "You've been making friends, I see." before being led inside. Nor was he expecting the welcome. "Merry meet, and thank you both for having us." he replies, bowing cordially.

Quiet and patient, Arian de Laverstock gives Kamron all the room needed to greet his sister, answer her questions, and finally draw them into the Dinton manor. Arian did not attend court — for various reasons — but has chosen a well-tailored dark turquoise gown with goldenrod accents. Her short hair has been drawn back and twisted out of her eyes and off the back of her neck. When Kamron offers introductions and Heulwen offers her own welcomes, Arian is swept up in the sheer hospitality of the young woman. "Oh, thank you." She casts glance toward Lainn, offering what can only be an apologetic smile. Or at least somewhat apologetic… "Yes, yes… Merry meet. I was thinking Kam— Sir Kamron would be tired of me by now, but here I am."

Kamron laughs, laughs, and winces. The ribs still hurt a little, "I'm fine, Wen. Promise. No blood. And I'll tell you all about Court later, and Sir Arian and I can tell Sir Lainn and yourself about the trip to Devonshire." He nods to the two visiting knights, gesturing to his sister and laughing lightly, "You see the perfection of ladyship that I had to grow up with? She puts me to shame when it comes to pure courtesy." The beer and breads come out first, and Kamron gestures to the table running down the middle of the hall, "Please. Sit. Be welcome." Shaking his head slightly at Arian, he adds, "Unfortunately, I was not the best of company much of the way back, Sir Arian. I feel as if I have to make up for that."

Although it isn't *precisely* her "job", it is still her duty; Wen smiles warmly at Arian and Lainn as she accepts their cloaks for safekeeping before scurrying off briefly to confer with someone - most likely a distant cousin - in the fetching of food and drink. She carries the pitcher and cups herself, bearing them toward the table to which Kamron invites them all to sit. Setting the places, she pours a healthy serving of drink before setting the pitcher in the center and taking a seat on a bench. With her gown tucked beneath her, Heulwen settles and picks up her cup, enjoying a swig of the cool, crisp ale before turning toward the conversation as a whole.

"What do you mean you were not the best of company? Did something happen?" Again she surveys Kamron with a sharp eye, but outwardly cannot note anything of particular consequence. Perhaps the lines about the mouth? But she says nothing more, and instead waits for the void to be filled.

"This is the first I've heard of that." Lainn remarks. "But granted, Ari doesn't tell to divulge the inner works of her head these days. All secretive and whatnot. But I can the two of you are no worse for wear from the trip you made. No incidents with errant cats stealing jewerly, alls quiet on that front." Sitting down, he accepts the drink that's offered to him. "So if there's a story I haven't heard about, I'm looking forward to hearing it."

The Pagan knight watches Heulwen flit around like a pixie, tending to their cloaks and drawing them in for bread and beer. She clasps her hands behind her back, looking frightfully awkward around the lovely Dinton sister. When Kamron brings up the journey home, Arian relaxes a bit and offers a small wry smile. Hands still behind her back, she approaches the table. She claims a seat next to Lainn, and brushes her hands self-consciously at her skirts. "Sir Kamron was… in a bit of a somber mood for half of our journey home… he holds himself to very high standards, Lady Heulwen," she says directly to Wen before regarding the table as a whole. "But Sir Cyndeyrn was able to right his mind, and he was far more cheerful the rest of the journey." She does cast a smirk toward Lainn. "And I am not secretive," she protests belatedly.

Kamron gathers up a loaf of bread from another cousin-page, coming around to set it before the guests where they can tear sections off to assuage their hunger. Settling into the bench alongside his sister, he shakes his head slightly, gesturing over to Arian at her description, "It shames me a little to admit that I was not delightful company for the entirety of the journey." At least he's able to say that with a little bit of a chuckle, "Of course you're not, Sir Arian." He winks across the table to Lainn, "And I cannot imagine any cat taking off with a locket. Complete fantasy, I'm sure. The real story is in the Picts we ran into, however."

Heulwen observes silently the dyanmic between Arian and her brother, and a small smile plays about her mouth as she tears apart bread to make it easier for others to grab pieces. "The stew will be along in a little while," she murmurs, letting the others speak as she nibbles the edge of her own piece and washes it down with ale. Her gaze dances sideways to take in Kamron as the man admits shamefacedly to being poor company, and she slowly lowers her hand to the table. "Oh!" For a moment she is still, but then she launches into a flurry of action once more. Slipping from the bench, she stands beside her brother and plunges a hand into the small purse at her waist, digging amongst the bits of thread and half pennies to find something.

"Ah, here you are," she announces, finally fishing out the wooden cloak clasp purchased not so long ago at the market. She holds it out on her palms, brandishing it like a prized jewel for his insepction, her cheeks bright red with emotion. "A new clasp for your cloak, brother. I thought it suitable for a victorious return." The item in question is of a pair of carved bears with claws linked together; bending them will undo the claws and open the clasp. "What happened with the Picts, Sir Arian?" she inquires, looking across the table toward the lady and smiling hopefully at the promise of a good story.

After another moment of self-consciousness, Arian finally indulges in the bread and beer. She tears off a bit of the former, and washes the bite down with the latter. She more or less listens to the sister and brother interact. When the question of the picts, though, is directed to her, she quickly swallows down another bite of bread. Brushing her fingertips together, she offers a small nod. "We were in Devonshire, and came upon a manor under attack from the picts. Had we not come along, I'm certain that the manor would not still be standing. We were able to cease their actions with very little cost to our own safety, which is a fine way for that to go." She casts a dubious glance toward Kamron. "Sir Kamron performed very well," she says, complimenting the knightin front of his family.

Dynamic? Kamron flirts with every noblewoman he meets. Granted, that flirting does not usually include sidelong glances when he's not directly flirting with her, so perhaps Heulwen's smile is onto something. Peeling away a hunk of bread to literally and metaphorically break bread with their guests, he looks curiously at his sister when she starts and begins digging into her purse. "Oh?" The gift draws his brows up, and he reaches to take the clasp from his sister, "It's lovely, Wen. Did you really spend your own money on this, you shouldn't have…" Still, he sounds quite pleased, only just now looking up at Arian's report, laughing lightly and shaking his head. Putting a hand on his sister's upper arm, he adds in, "Sir Arian fails to mention that she saved Sir Acwel and I from being overwhelmed by the little monsters." And when Kam calls someone little, he means it.

Pleased with the reception of her gift, Heulwen touches Kam's shoulder lightly before resuming her seat. She uses her teeth to tear a mouthful of bread, chewing it thoughtfully while glancing between the other three. The mention of her brother performing well earns a quirked eyebrow, but she laughs quietly at his modesty. "Little monsters? I could only imagine, and even then I think my imagination does very little justice for reality. I am glad to hear that not only did you attend to your mission, but you saved others in the process. I take it Sir Acwel has returned to his own in one piece?" She smiles wholly, then, the expression transforming her face briefly into an almost-glowing, slightly motherly expression that she turns on Arian. "I thank God that you were there, then, and shall offer up prayers for you and yours, Sir Arian."

"Little monsters?" Arian asks, laughing brightly all the same. "What a compliment." She smiles a small, wry smile before she takes another swallow of beer. "And yes, I did forget to mention that." Heulwen's compliment does cause a pink blush to blossom at her cheeks, and she shakes her head. "I was only looking out for Sir Kamron and Sir Acwel as I would any other knight. They would have been alright without my intervention." Probably. She then takes another bite of bread, chewing distractedly. "Now enough about Devonshire… please, Lady Heulwen… tell me about Sir Kamron as a brother. Is he a troublemaker?"

Kamron nods sagely at his sister, "Shorter than me, scrawny, and quite beastly in their lack of manners." Granted, he only saw them on the battlefield and in the wake of a raid, but no knight would behave so poorly… would they? He chuckles at Arian's response, wrinkling his nose a little, "It was not intended to be a compliment." He does, however, nod sagely at Heulwen's pious statements, his eyes cutting over toward their two Pagan guests to see how they accept them, until Arian poses her question, his brows lifting sharply as he looks back to Heulwen… this could be trouble.

The conversation is interrupted by the arrival of the main course, which is plopped rather abruptly on the table. Without batting an eyelash, Wen shoves bowls toward everyone before dipping the bread into her own stew. She savors the bite, chewing silently with her eyes closed as if she were a man lost in the desert who has just discovered water. The conversation flows over her, or rather it flows around her, moving along more or less naturally from one subject to the next. In fact, the girl is about to delve wholeheartedly into her supper, but is arrested by a rather peculiar question.

Perhaps she sense Kamron's sudden discomfort; Heulwen exchanges a look with Kamron, and her eyebrows rise up to mirror his momentarily. "A troublemaker?" she repeats, perhaps as if to convince herself that this is, indeed, the word du jour. "No…" The last of her bread rolls around between her teeth, and she makes a show of swallowing before continuing. "No, I wouldn't say so much now. When we were little, of course, but young boys are naturally precocious. Mud, hairpulling, toads - all of that is quite common. But now? I think he rather enjoys teasing me mercilessly about little things, but otherwise he has long stopped folding toads into my sheets or leaving spiders in my slippers. No. He is a very good man."

"Toads into your sheets?" Arian's brows arch at Kamron, though then she smiles softer toward Heulwen. "My brothers wouldn't dare put toads in my sheets, but the did try other mischief." She turns into her own bowl, suddenly feeling a wave of hunger at the sight of the warm meal. She eats, but she does try to eat with proper etiquette. Kamron's sister is an actual Lady, and she should try to not eat like a starved Knight. She looks up toward the pair, tilting her head slightly. "But, I trust you when you say that he has grown out of such antics. I'm sure you and Lady Lysanor wouldn't tolerate such misbehavior from a grown man."

It could have been worse. Kamron nods at the description of his childhood antics, only wincing a little, "I wish I could say that those were all lies, but I cannot impugn the honor of a dear lady such as my sister." Looking over to Arian, he adds, "I would have continued, but chasing toads and spiders is murder on my clothing." And then the smile blossoms to its fullest extent, and he adds, "And since Lysie and Wen do most of the repairs, they would murder me if I murdered my clothing."

Heulwen laughs boisterously at Kamron's joke, although perhaps it isn't entirely in jest. "So we would, and so we should after putting in all of that time fixing the many ridiculous tears. One wouldn't even begin to imagine the wear upon a simple tunic, but should they be the one to have to piece it back together into a useable garment…" She lets this thought trail off, secure in the knowledge that she has impressed upon him - and the others - that the struggle is, indeed, real. Instead, she shifts the conversation to a different subject, offering an amused smile to both Arian and Lainn. "And your quiet brother, Sir Arian? Although he attacks his food with much gusto and offers not a syllable in return, I feel that perhaps it is because he is plagued by a lingering guilty conscience for finding other ways to torment you if it were not with something so simple as a bug."

Arian relaxes bit by bit. She laughs softly around a mouthful of food, though she manages to chew and swallow before speaking despite the amusement that courses through her. "I'm sure that Sir Kamron was a fine older brother… he is probably quite protective of you." Then when Heulwen focuses on Lainn, Arian turns in her seat slightly to her rather silent brother. She reaches out to touch Lainn's arm lightly, drawing him out from his silent thoughtfulness. There is stew everywhere then as if she has startled him, and he is looking as if he has just transported from somewhere far away to this very moment.

"Lainn," Arian gasps, though out of worry instead of admonishment for the spill. She starts to help him clean up even while he mutters apologies. Arian is helping clean up, but Lainn is up and stepping away to see to his stew-stained clothes.

"And what of the wear upon a simple knight, dear sister?" Kamron works on his own food as the ladies talk, "Most of the rents in the clothing were also rents in my skin, Wen." He gives a nod to Lainn, opening his mouth to respond, and then the other man spills, and Kam grimaces, nodding slightly to the other man and calling for a page, "Amwyn, come bring some water for Sir Lainn to wash up." There, that will help. Looking to the ladies once more, he shrugs a little, reaching over to pat the back of Heulwen's hand, "I think that Wen would say that I was over-protective, actually. I claim right of older brother in that, however."

Heulwen offers an amused if silent smile, taking a moment to mop up the remanants of her supper with the final shred of bread. It leaves ample room for Lainn to knock over his dish, and she passes off her empty bowl in the resulting clean-up. Perhaps it is to her credit that she did not leap to assist immediately. By the time everything is cleared away, she is leaning forward on the bench and nursing her mug while looking between the two remaining knights. "I hope your brother is well, Sir Arian. If need be, I think mother has some herbs in the stillroom that I could steep in a tea to calm him…" Even more to her credit, she does not inquire one bit into the brief upset.

Instead, Kam earns a lopsided smile, and she tilts to the side to nudge him with her shoulder. "Was overprotective? You still are, dearest brother. I think should anyone poor man take it into his head to bring an offer to my father, he will have to pass through the one-man gauntlet that is Kamron. But considering I've never liked any of my suitors, I have no cause to disparage him for his efforts. Perhaps that will change if someone catches my fancy - do you think, brother?" Her eyes twinkle with mischief even as she tries her best to smile as sweetly and innocently as possible.

Arian looks worriedly after Lainn as he steps away, dealing with his clothes and perhaps his own mind. She doesn't look back until Heulwen speaks to her, and she is looking back at the pair of Dinton's with an absentminded blink. "Oh… no… he will be okay." She breathes out a slow exhale. "We both had a rough summer in the Earl's service. Our eldest brother was… taken." She then smiles, almost distractedly. It takes her a couple moments to draw back into the conversation. "Perhaps you should have gone to court with Sir Kamron… I hear there were lots of fancy Lords and Knights present."

Kamron laughs easily, "Yes. I was. Now that you are a lovely young lady of marriageable age, I think I am just protective enough." He pushes aside the last of his own meal, glancing across the table to Arian for a moment, just a hint of a smile touching one corner of his lips before he looks back to his sister, "Well, when someone catches your fancy, Wennie, you'll just have to let me know, and I'll relax the gauntlet." Beat pause, and then he adds, "A little." He gestures across to the Lady Knight then, and puts in, "Unfortunately, there are also Burcombes, although you cannot always avoid them. One of them, the big one," half of them are big to Kamron, however, "made quite the fuss at court today. Earl Robert was not pleased. Sir Caerwyn, I believe."

Heulwen checked her honest of 16, she rolled 15.

Heulwen breaks her grace long enough to roll her eyes toward the ceiling, as if the idea of an acceptable suitor were just beyond her ability to grasp. "If someone were to catch my fancy, brother, I would expect the stables to spontaneously burst into fire around the same time." Still, the corners of her wide eyes wrinkle with mirth, and she chortles as she leans forward to fetch up the pitcher and top off her glass. In doing so, she misses the subtle byplay between the knights…probably to their benefit. When she resumes her seat, she sips delicately at the ale and listents intently; the mention of Burcombes causes her to roll her eyes again, but the name of Caerwyn arrests her mid-grimace.

"Sir Caerwyn? Sir Caerwyn Burcombe?" But of course, how many of those could there be wandering the countryside? "He—didn't mention me, did he?" The query is not one of a girl who is fishing for word of a potential beau, but rather it is laced with the trepidation of a girl treading water. "I forgot to mention that I, ah, encountered him just outside of Sarum. He accompanied me home one evening."

Arian blinks as Kamron turns to gossip, though it is the content of the gossip that has her surprised. She tilts her head slightly, finishing her own bread and stew with one last bite. "Sir Caerwyn is quite a… he likes to be at the center of most things, and that can be quite a dangerous desire in the Earl's court." She takes another swallow of beer, looking thoughtful. She rolls her lower lip between her teeth, and then asks, "So what did the oaf do?" Then Heulwen inquires after the Burcombe, and Arian blinks in surprise. She looks over toward her, and then back at Kamron. Suddenly, she thinks that a new topic might be wise, but for the life of her, she cannot seem to find one.

Kamron gestures to Heulwen at her demurral, laughing softly, "You see where I get it then, Sir Arian." And then she is grimacing, and Kamron sits up all the straighter on his bench, "Why would he…" And then she finishes the thought, and his eyes narrow slightly… concern, not anger, not necessarily. "He accompanied you home? Where was Brai?" The middle child, and also a knight. "Here? To the manor?" A hint of humor slips through, and he grins a little, "And the church did not burst into flames?" Leaning forward a little, he adds, "I trust I don't have to chastise him for impropriety, Wen?"

If Heulwen can read into any of Arian's body language, she is too much the lady to let it get to her. Much. She shifts on the bench as if suddenly unable to find a comfortable seat, and suddenly the contents of her mug are so incredibly absorbing. She waits for a hammer to fall, but Kam's gentle reassurance draws forth a somewhat dry smile. The expression doesn't reach her eyes, but then again she's not the sort to fall into incredibly wry humor either. "Here, to the manor, but he did not come inside. He saw me safely to the main yard and then turned homeward. Brai had to tend to something, and I had Bree with me. I was certain she was chaperone enough, and she would have been had Ffionn not somehow gotten something wedged into her hoof. Bree did fetch help from the apprentice ferrier, but then Sir Caerwyn showed up. He deemed the 'something' to be ahmmcaltrop? Immediately he swore it was bandits nearby, perhaps lurking in the sparse brush by the road ready to ambush a defenseless lady."

For a moment, it seems Wen does fizz with a bit of laughter. The tone of her voice is shaky, but not with fright; rather it seems she is trying awfully hard not to fall into a fit of giggles. "Oh, he was quite gallant, dear brother. He slid from his horse quick as lightning, drew his sword, and went immediately to the defensive. Only his quickness so startled poor Ffionn that she bolted, and naturally his squire had to be spared to fetch her, leaving him as the single stalwart defendant of my innocence. I think he was such a dashing, roguish sort of figure that no bandit dared show his facy; nary a blade of grass stirred not but with the wind. Eventually my mount was returned, and he accompanied me all the way home. Bandits, you understand, could strike at any moment."

Arian continues to cast dubious glances between Wen and Kamron, as if waiting to see how this will all play out between protective older brother and younger sister — the latter of course being seduced by a Burcombe. Though seduced is a very liberal term, based on the way Heulwen's story is told. With another gulp of beer, the Laverstock uses the moment to gather up her thoughts. "Oh, well… yes… Sir Caerwyn can be quite gallant…" She does not look at Kamron as she continues. "He is also quite a flirt, based on my own experiences with the Burcombe." She finally glances at Kamron, but it is done almost sheepishly.

The discomfort from Kamron's sister causes him to frown just a little more. Still, he listens to the story to himself, nodding slowly. "If there was a caltrop," Heulwen's near-laughter banishes most of his smile, and Kam's grin gets very dry indeed, "I would not be surprised if he put it there himself." And then she mentions the sword, and he straightens up again, slapping his forehead with his palm, "Jesu, Maria, and Joseph." Shaking his head and the hand around it, he drops his elbow to the table, bracing his head on his palm. "Drew a sword, chased off the horse, and caught the noble lady just where he wanted." Peeking up from between his fingers at Arian, he nods slowly, "Quite gallant, except for the part where he looks at every lady he sees as if she were wearing less than Imbolc," it's a new word for him, at least so far as his sister knows, "robes. But at least he does have good taste in who he flirts with, at least so far as present company serves."

Heulwen is likely more amused by her story than the rest, but she takes Kamron's subtle jests in stride. She bends at the waist in a mock bow to him, not bothering to stand to deliver it, and then waves a hand dismissively. "Of that I have no doubt. His smile says it all, you know; it's there in the eyes, a bit like a hunter tracking a moving target, only slightly less nefarious." Chortling a bit at the memory, she tosses back the rest of her ale and slaps the cup onto the table with a thunk of finality. "No matter his motivation, he merely accompanied me first to his house for supper, and then home to see me safe, and then he left. I shall not be expecting - nor desiring - any proposals from so small a meeting…although now that you mention it, I am half-convinced the 'caltrop' was of his own design. I did not see it, nor did the ferrier mention any such thing. I was certain he was only prying free a stone. Still, it was quite a laugh, and I did get to see the inside of Burcome manor. I think they host twice the number of bodies on their land as we do on ours, or at least I feel like they might."

She pauses, letting the subject die down now that the last of her amusement has faded. "What, pray tell, are Imbolc robes?" She directs this question to Kamron, but her gaze slides sideways to consider Arian contemplatively.

"I trust that all Ladies under the age of twenty five and unmarried are moving targets to Caerwyn," Arian reports dryly. She leans back in her seat, resting back almost comfortably in the company of the two Dintons. She arches up her brows slightly, glancing between Heulwen and Kamron at the former's dismissal of any future between her and Caerwyn. She laughs softly at the mention of the caltrop again, and she shakes her head. "Perhaps we should start setting up caltrops that he can find…"

Then Imbolc is brought up, and Arian chokes a bit on her beer. She looks hastily at Kamron, and then to Heulwen. "Ah, well… casual, simple clothing worn at the Festival of Candles up at Stonehenge." Says the Pagan casually to the Christian woman.

Kamron shakes his head soberly, "More nefarious. The hunter just wants prey to bring back for dinner." The information from inside the Burcombe manor causes him to frown thoughtfully, "Twice the bodies. Well, I suppose that it is good we have allies then, isn't it? Especially if he continues to be fresh and forward." The question about Imbolc causes him to cough into his mug a moment, a hint of pink touching his ears. He glances over to Arian, nodding, "But of course. Naturally, the most beautiful come first for a wild hunter such as himself." Nodding at Arian's explanation, he adds his own, "Fully covering, no matter what the Roman Fathers say." The Roman Christian priests are very strident about the disgraceful behavior of the Pagans.

Heulwen is rather pleased with the state of semi-discomfort she has caused with her oh-so-innocent query into the garb associated with Pagan rituals. She allows the two a moment to school their features, glancing sideways as if gauging the slow decline in activity indoors as a means of tracking time. Looking back to Kamron, however, she cannot help just a little bit of teasing. "I am sure the Roman fathers might have little to say on the fullness of the cover so much as the lack of modesty preserved. Perhaps the robes leave so little to the imagination, hmm? That is, if I were to glean the implication from the context of your comment—'less than Imbolc robes'." She flashes her teeth in an amused grin, but does not push the subject.

Instead, to covery any residual awkwardness, Wen leans forward to grasp the pitcher and shake it. The merry slosh of ale announces that there is much left to be consumed still. She tips her glass upside-down, however, to signal she is quite done with drink. The back of her hand trails over her mouth while stifling a yawn, and she looks about to gauge the decline in activity in relation to the time of day. It is, perhaps, a bit late for her. "Brother, Sir Arian, I am very happy that you have both returned safely. Alas, I am not so stalwart as you, and I fear that the embrace of my bed is calling, 'that secret bliss shared by all and sundry'. I must bid you both a good evening and restful sleep." With that, she makes to stand and away to her sleep.

Arian pinks deeply as Heulwen suggests all the possible flaws with an Imbolc robe. She casts a shy glance over toward Kamron, as if she is trying to gauge his own reaction to his sister's words. Before she can speak though, Heulwen starts to make her farewells. She sits up straighter in her seat, offering Wen a small smile. "Well met, Lady Heulwen." She watches the woman take her leave, and then she looks back to Kamron. Her cheeks are warm, but her smile is soft. "Do you think that Lainn and I could stay the night, Sir Kamron? Before we travel for home…"

Stupid sister, being so smart. Kamron glances down into his ale again, clearing his throat, "They're simple. Clean. And simple." He said that one too many times. "It may have rained." He probably shouldn't have said that at all. He rises up when Heulwen does, giving her a hug, "I'm glad to be home, Wen. Sleep well." And then he settles back down, looking across the table to the Lady Knight, "Of course. It would only be polite, considering that you came out so late in the day. It might be a little late to offer a bath, but I'm sure that we can get rooms and breakfast for you and your brother, Sir Arian. Perhaps even an early lunch before riding back to Sarum?"

"A lunch would be lovely, Sir Kamron." Arian reaches to gently touch the back of his hand with her fingertips, and then she starts to stand from her seat with a flourish of skirts and a soft smile. "Thank you for your hospitality. I won't forget it." She glances toward where her brother might have gone, and then back to Kamron. "I should go check on my brother… he has been gone for quite a while."

Kamron turns his hand palm-up beneath her touch for just a moment, and then he offers up a smile, "Perhaps you and your family can return it at some point soon. I think I would like to visit mother's family at Falt soon. But yes, do check up on Sir Lainn. I'll make sure Amwyn is here to direct you to a couple of rooms." Which means the little curtained cubbies off the hall. "Sleep well, Sir Arian."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License