(514-05-15) Gift Giving, Part 1
Summary: The first day of gift giving from King Arthur.
Date: 05-15-514
Related: Any with the wedding, Part 2 of the gift giving.
robert seren kamron leodwen huw caerwyn catryn cynrain cyndeyrn martyn seriol gideon deryn acwel amalthea aeron lysanor nalia laurwyn custennin eiluned idris bradwyn erylys morag eirian heulwen aluksander 

Great Hal
The great hall of Carlion castle is a large open space, of cold stone, and narrow, high windows allowing a little light to filter inside. The hall is well appointed, showing to the wealth of the lord who owns it, with fine tapestries, hunting trophies, and banners hanging from the walls, with high iron chandeliers offering the hall added illumination. The hall is capable of holding a large number of lords and knights, with tables and benches for feasting, removed for court. Wide, reinforced double doors lead out of the hall, and doors and corridors line the room leading deeper into the castle. Upon a raised platform at the far end of the room sits a large throne.

After the ceremony, nobles and knights gather in the Great Hall of Carlion. Presently the location Arthur holds court, it is festive today. With his new wife, he sits upon the chair reserved for him. It is the time of gift giving, where during the feasting each knight and vassal of the realm of Logres may come before him to make a request of the Gift Giver. There is a precedence to the ordeal, where the vassal of Arthur over each of the counties of the realm come before him to introduce his knights to the King before they ask for their gift. It is the time that Earl Rorbert of Salisbury is on hand with Arthur to present his knights.

Idris checked his selfish of 10, he rolled 9.

The tables for the Salisbury knights has been visited by Robert, they were coming up next for the asking of gifts from Arthur. He found the scribe, Seren, and they passed the word. The time of his Lord Knights first of course as he stands with Seren near the High King and lets each come to them. They ask for impressive things some of them, a few horses, a few suits of armor, copious quantities of goods things they can divy up to their vassals once more when returned to their keeps alike. As they pass, Robert looks to the rest of his knights. "My Liege, the knights of Salisbury." He will turn to Seren and see who is next, and will gladly present them to Arthur.

The journey had been an interesting one and Seren had fared it well. Well rested now, she is at the side of their liege lord, the tools of her trade nearby. Even Seren seems smitten by the queen and her legendary beauty. As she is asked who is next, she simply indicates the next in line and beckons them forward, a smile in place.

Seren checks herr trusting at 16, she rolled 1.
Robert rolls 1d3 and gets (2) for a total of: (2)
Critical Fail!
Idris checked his lustful of 7, he rolled 20.
Idris rolls 2d6 and gets (3 4) for a total of: (7)

"My Lord, Your Majesty," Idris intones as he approaches the High King and the Earl. He offers a bow for both of them, glances to the scribe to introduce himself. He looks only once at Guinevere, and there's some cynical part of him that simply shuts down all emotion as he does so, before he addresses Arthur directly, "I have come from far away to convey you my congratulations on your nuptials, High King, and I have only one simple request, as I am a humble knight and I have no people whose wellness depends directly on me. However, I do seek to protect my people with as much zeal as I can and I believe that a finer suit of chainmail, if at all possible, would help me accomplish such a goal."

Eiluned checked her trusting of 10, she rolled 2.
Robert rolls 1d3 and gets (2) for a total of: (2)
Erylys checked her trusting of 10, she rolled 13.

A petite figure can cut an eye-catching figure even amongst high nobility, under the appropriate circumstances. Some days even a pheasant stands out among swans and kestrels, as it goes. A young lady's long overtunic in a shade of deep amber dye, for example, is arresting in its own right. Now match scarlet hair the colour of a bloody morning over the battlefield, and she is a living vision for Brigid herself, especially with all that hair painstakingly braided and woven by ribbons to fall to her waist. If Tir na nOg opted to send an emissary as witness, she might be the Herald for the Summer Country. Credentials are established as necessary, by virtue of scrolls and ink and an instrument carried dutifully by a dark-haired young man in a tunic of white on red, the device of Shrewton Manor helpfully stitched upon his shoulder. Were the same present with Eiluned, it's not easily visible, but the firebath of wildly curling hair might have something to do with covering it up. She edges along behind the contingent of Salisbury men at arms and knights; she has no intention of going up there, but observing from a comfortable spot where she might take in everything. The high king is fascinating but, like almost every living creature, her interest is fixed upon Guenevere for a time.

Custennin rolls 3d6 and gets (6 4 1) for a total of: (11)

"Sir Idris de Bodenham," as introduced by Earl Robert, who then remains quiet during the exchange. Arthur listens to the request. Then nods his head as he measures the man with his eyes. "Sir Idris, this is a worthy request, we wish you to uphold your service and you have the support of your king. A suit of chainmail you shall have. Let Sir Kay know where your pavilion is and we shall have one sent to you before the sun sets this day." He nods to his step brother nearby, who is with his own scribes organizing the gifts, writing down what is owed or making arrangements to give right away what they can give. A nod of his head, his gratitude for the service of the knight. Robert does the same to Sir Idris, knowing things of late, the gift seems suitable to the Earl as the Bodenham had asked for it.

Having arrived with Robert and the others, Erylys files into the hall, but unlike the knights that made up most of his contingent, she moves to the side to allow any other knights to move into line to offer their congratulations personally to the king and queen. For her, there's a thrill of excitement to just be here that keeps the young woman quiet, her gaze upon the two seated up front. Dressed in leather pants paired with a black tunic edged with red and gold, the young woman from Berwick St. James is no knight herself, even if some might mistake her mode of dress to signal such at times. In her arms is a sleeping half grown puppy which she pets gently to keep it asleep for the moment.

Looming among the Salisbury knights is an immense, scarred, bearded and balding hulk of a man. Clad in stark black and white, and with a sword at his belt, Custennin at least wears the accoutrements of nobility in spite of his appearance. His own response to the High King and his Queen seems reverent, particularly towards the latter… but after (rather literally) swallowing his nervousness, he strides forward after Sir Idris. A polite inclination of his head to Earl Robert precedes a deep bow to the duo on the dais, before he sinks to one knee before them.

"My liege. My lady," he says, his deep voice trained to provide a better public display than his visage can manage. "I am myself only just wed, and would fain ask your Royal Highnesses for two tokens rather than one: a gift of paired rings from those who grace the High Thrones, to help to unite myself and my new lady wife, Myfanwy."

Beside Robert, Seren does indicate the happenings on her own parchment, just for records sake and because the Earl would want it later. When she looks up to see who is next, she notices Erylys and offers a bright smile, "Good day my lady," she says as softly as she can manage and still have the lady hear. Most eyes are on the Queen as it is. Presently, she indicates for Custennin to approach and gives his name to Earl Robert.

"Thank you, my King," Idris murmurs, bowing to King and Earl once again, a picture-perfect image of humble gratitude for that moment. "I shall let the good Sir know, aye," he bows again at the nods in gratitude, and steps away so that others can make their own petitions.

Spying Seren, and hearing the quiet greeting, Erylys steps closer to the scribe, to offer her own answer softly as the knights continue to meet and greet the king and queen. Having studied the two herself, the young woman doesn't seem overly affected by either beyond that normal thrill of being in their presence that any would have. Continuing to pet the puppy, she murmurs softly to Seren, "Good day to you, milady.. I hope to present them with this puppy…" Yes, she's wanting to give the king and queen a gift. A little backwards, isn't it?

Watching that the other does see to Kay for the gift arrangement, Arthur watches Idris for half a moment. Getting the name from Seren, Robert introduces again, "Sir Custennin …" Solemn as he listens about the request for rings. Arthur gives a pause at this. Certainly not the first ring requested, perhaps not the first set. And still, a slight smile to Arthur and Guenevere for the moment. "Sir Custennin, a befitting gift and an honor that you would recognize your marriage in this manner, so closely related to our wedding." The queen, mostly quiet, does look over to the knight and nods, "It sounds as if this is a marriage of love as well." It is all she says at this time, but mirroring their own wedding.

Custennin inclines his head to the king… then finds himself having to bend still farther in order to indicate acknowledgement of the queen's words. "I very much hope that our union will be one of lasting love and happiness, your Highness. And if it is not too much of a presumption, I shall pray for the same for both of you." Unless delayed by further comments, he pauses a moment before rising, bowing, and withdrawing from the royal presence - looking rather flushed and happy, behind his beard and scars.

Eiluned will stand unless a space to sit offers itself. She signals to the man carrying that simple burden of an instrument to fall in behind her, and he cradles whatever he carries as tenderly as his firstborn. The pair do stand out for the sheer intensity of the dye used in their clothes. Eiluned's position gives her an ideal space to watch everyone approaching the king and queen, and hear what they ask for. The bard's clear expression measures each individual with a mix of curiosity and consideration. Idris earns a very slight nod for his request; the romantic gesture from the huge, scarred warrior is worthy of a slight crook of her mouth. Not quite a smile, but close.

A look from Guenever to Arthur at that return from Custennin, and he catches her eyes. With a moment between them, he looks back to Custennin and nods. "We would welcome your prayers, Sir Custennin. Only one if you wish, save others for the peace of our realms." Then he looks to Sir Kay and nods, "Two gold rings as requested, brother. At the earliest convenience, if they can be made ready during the feasts and tourney, the better." Then he looks back to Custennin, "I am thankful for your service, please accept the gift of these two rings." And a nod, indicatin he may visit with Sir Kay to arrange the rings just the same.

Bradwyn checked his lustful+10 of , he rolled 1.

The request had taken the scribe by surprise, but the romantic gesture is all swoon-worthy and she turns a warm smile to the knight, glad of the love that is shared between the man and his wife. When he moves on and it is time for another, Seren gives the name and offers a smile to the next knight, along with an encouraging look.

Bradwyn checked his lustful of 13, he rolled 18.

Going to Sir Kay to direct himself in his request, Idris offers the fellow Knight a salute before rejoining the table of Salisbury Knights, watching as the others make their respective requests.

Custennin remains bashfully happy while providing his details to Sir Kay - at least the monochrome-clad giant should be one of the easier knights for messengers to locate in future - and offers Seren a somewhat sheepish grin in response to her smile, before making his way back to the throng of Salisbury retainers. There, to quite markedly fail to hide anonymously amid the throng of people shorter than himself.

Bradwyn rolls 3d6 and gets (4 5 1) for a total of: (10)
Bradwyn checked his orate of 10, he rolled 19.

Just when there seemed to be enough tall knights, there comes another. Standing at six feet, Bradwyn is shorter than Custennin, but still taller than most, also far less built than the hulking giant. Dark-haired with striking blue eyes Bradwyn lowers himself into a respectful bow to the thrones as he is introduced, "Sir Bradwyn de Idmiston."
In a baritone voice the young knight, though he might look at least a few years older due to his height, says, "My Lord. Your Majesties." He awaits permission to rise, and then stands to his full height once more and says, "I would ask for a nicer pavilion, with the coming tourneys and any potential wars I believe your knights should rise up and stand out, more so than I already do of course." as he offers a charming smile. He addresses Arthur, though after his joke his blue gaze lands on the queen and he is silent a moment, as though struck mute by her beauty. After a few moments more he says, "Forgive me Your Majesty, I find myself humbled in the presence of your new bride. If I may say, you are a man fortunate beyond words." It is a few moments more before he can turn his scarred face from the queen and back to Arthur and adds, "Forgive me." once more and awaits the king's judgement of his request.

At least one member of the audience offers Bradwyn a sympathetic look, the giant of Falt evidently feeling rather similar - even nodding agreement, before he catches himself.

Idris smirks at Bradwyn's remark on standing out, though he keeps to his own counsel, for the most part.

The diminutive presence to the side, where Eiluned stands, is a source of complete silence. She doesn't even rustle her skirt, and the mild shift of her gaze after Bradwyn marks her concentrated interest in his request and reactions. The smoothness of her expression does not change considerably, eyes narrowed at the corners and a touch of a smile still on her lips. She might be a horrible person to play card games with, that mask being an unmoving thing.

Erylys continues to watch and listen as the knights approach the king and queen, gaze to study the knight's reaction, then that of king and queen. As the furry grey dog wakes, she pets it quiet, though gets a lick to her cheek in response.

To say he hadn't heard compliments as such throughout the day is an understatement of course. More direct perhaps thatn most but, a slighty humility given it as well. Guenever lifts a brow perhaps, curious to see who this one is. Maybe noting all those bold enough to say so. A look to Bradwyn, then she is quiet and looking off once more. Robert looks at the knight as well, curious if it will drop at the one off handed compliment or include more, but it is Arthur who has the right to address the fellow for the moment. He nods his head, "A pavilion is a noteworthy gift, not merely to show our pride but to be cared for while on campaign. If any of us fall, it shall be at the hands of our foes, not to the circumstance of weather." Regal as should be, but a pause, "You are forgiven, Sir Bradwyn. It has been said indeed, by men more elegant of words no less. I am humbled as well." The words he deigns to the matter of his wife and the compliment. "Once cloth is received from winter shearing, a fine pavilion shall be provided." A nod, he looks again to Sir Kay, he can add that to the list of deliverables for Salisbury come the right time of course. Guenever does turn a curious eye to the puppy. Not out of place in many halls to be noted, hounds under tables, but the girl walking with the puppy. A passing look from the Queen.

Bradwyn bows respectfully once more to his liege, and the royal couple. A look lingering on the queen only a few extra moments before he turns to make room for others. Yep he won't be hearing the end of that one from his cousins.

With the puppy awake in her arms, Erylys glances from the royal couple, to the man off to the side who's writing things down and keeping track of stuff. Moving off towards Sir Kay and his contigion of squires and scribes, the young lady clears her throat and gets the older knight's attention. With a lull amongst the knights approaching the King and Queen, she murmurs to Sir Kay, "I know it's customary for them to give the gifts, but I hope you do not mind if I present Bellona here, to them as a gift? She is from a strong bloodline of terriers out of Berwick St. James. My father has bred them true for the last near thirty years. I choose her and another for the starting stock of my own pack, and she has proven to be extremely smart, picking up her training quicker than any I have ever had the pleasure to train myself.." A glance to the Earl and then back to Sir Kay is given, "She hunts rats and mice with a sheer determination, keeping a house clear of them. She's also shown to hunt rabbit as well…" She takes a deep breath, releasing it with a smile, "I am no knight, nor heir of a household, but it would please me greatly to be able to offer this token to the King and Queen, to better their own hunting dogs, and perhaps to help keep any pests away from their persons.." Now, she hopes she's done the right thing. Wouldn't do to embarrass the Earl who stands nearby! Especially when she has a question to ask him later!

Kamron checked his lustful of 7, he rolled 6.
Kamron rolls 3d6 and gets (2 2 5) for a total of: (9)
Seriol checked his lustful of 7, he rolled 6.
Seriol rolls 3d6 and gets (3 2 2) for a total of: (7)

Currently Arthur sits next to Guenevere, the last knight having asked for a pavilion, they watch him go to Sir Kay, the Seneschal who is assuring the gifts will reach the recipient if needed from elsewhere, or giving outright if they have it on hand here and now of course. Robert is near the two, along with Seren the scribe. It is the time for the Salisbury knights to visit with the gift giver and make their requests. The bannerets have already gone, leaving the bulk of the rest to make their requests. A puppy has been given to Sir Kay, a reverse gift giving. He looks at the lady. "Ah, Berwick St. James? Yes. Coney you say?" He reaches for the puppy and will do a scruff of the neck thing as if investigating it as stock of course.

For the moment, Seren is announcing those next in line and watching as they step forward to ask a gift of the king. Other than the introductions, presenting them to Earl Robert whereas he presents them to the king, she remains silent, doing her scribely duties.

Catryn patiently awaits her turn. The puppy was an interesting gift and the one giving it is given a look over. For now though, she awaits her turn, already knowing just what she would ask for.

Kamron is a little entranced after the wedding. If it's such a lovely affair with such lovely people involved, perhaps it's not quite so bad. He's in his holiday best, which basically means his cleanest and least-darned clothes, with the new carved-wooden clasp in the form of twin bears on his tunic rather than holding his cloak together (since that's not needed in Court). He is without his axe, of course, and has forgone the use of any sword as well, and now waits his turn for the gift-giving — long-delayed of course given that he is merely a Family Knight and a young one at that.

Catryn checked her trusting of 10, she rolled 12.

Erylys smiles as Sir Kay reaches out to scruff the young dog's neck, earning a lick from the grey-black Bellona, as she's been named. "Aye, yes Sir. As eager to hunt them as she does the rats." She promises quite quickly. "She's trained as well to not bother people inside, and to keep from under foot." So perfect to have in a home or castle as need be. "Her name is Bellona. It means warlike for her fierceness going after prey.." Aww. Cute, right?

As the talk goes on with Sir Kay, Arthur does look to Robert to see who is next among the knights to request a gift. Robert nods to Sir Catryn as she seems next in line, to approach and ask. Announcing, "Sir Catryn de Burcombe …." Just the same.
Sir Kay scruffs, then grabs a handful of skin, said scruff, to hoist the puppy unceremoniously to inspect the goods of corse. He chuckles, "I'm sure she will be warlike, the gift is appreciated. No circumstance to say otherwise." He writes it down on his ledger, "Right, one Bellona, the warrior, from the Lady …." Space for a name.

Hearing her name, Catryn starts at the unexpectedness of it. Stepping forward, she takes a knee, dipping her head, "Your Majesties, Your Grace," Remaining down on her knee until she is given the go ahead to stand. Once she does, she offers a polite smile. "I wish you both a continued happiness. I have but one simple request, that you give me a name, a name for my future first born son, so that I may tell him who has chosen it."

Critical Success!
Leodwen checked her Trusting of 10, she rolled 10.

The pup is released as Sir Kay picks her up out of her arms to look at and hold. The dog goes limp as they are wont to do, dark eyes to peer intelligently at Sir Kay as she's inspected. "Erylys Berwick St. James, Sir." The name is promptly given by the lady huntsman with another smile upon her lips. Hearing the call of another knight to approach the King and Queen, she bows to Sir Kay, prepared to step away from him and allow him to get back to his job as keeper of list! And yet, she does look to Catryn at the request, and ohs softly. Seems this is one that really catches her fancy.

Leodwen rolls 2d6 and gets (1 5) for a total of: (6)

Sir Kay nods to the lady, "Lady Erylys, right, noted." Indeed, he does take the name down as he does so. More focused on paper work, and being a stoic. He does look up at her though before she's on her way, noting the face, just maybe. The dog is put on the table for now, not put away though. Kay may take a liking to it.
"Sir Catryn, this is an honor you bestow upon me," says King Arthur at the request, sitting up just a little. "For you, I would be pleased should you name your first born son Madoc. If not for my family I would not be here, this would be a great honor." And who knows, maybe someday the lad will encounter Arthur's nephew, Madoc's son. Guenevere listens a little to this, maybe learning more about her husband in this moment as well. Even Robert pays attention, good gift around. "Sir Catryn, you have my trust in accepting this gift." A nod from Arthur, no need to visit Sir Kay even on that account.

Even if the huge bully of a knight that is her brother has already approached the King and his Queen, Leodwen has not yet dared to offer her congratulations and pay her respects. The young lady of Falt Manor is lingering beside Custennin, her hands folded before her as she regards the regal pair and Earl Robert with a certain awe that is perhaps to be expected. Watching courtiers step closer and convey their best wishes. There might be a slightly nervous glint in her hazel eyes, even so Leodwen seems to beam with excitement, her feet hardly standing still, fingers stretching as she waits for the perfect moment to pay her own respects. Her long blonde hair falls about her shoulders, with two braids starting at the temples and joined at the back of her head giving the modest imitation of a tiara of sorts. The dress of dark blue is plain yet shows off some fine embroidery work at the hems of the long sleeves.

Stepping forth then, after Catryn is done, Leodwen de Falt displays enthused determination as she approaches and lowers herself into a curtsey before the King and Queen. "Your Majesty," this offered to King Arthur with a lowered gaze, before she straightens and dares regard the wondrous beauty that is Queen Guenevere. And for a moment it seems as if young energetic Leodwen is out of words, struck by the impression the Quenn leaves upon her. Until Leodwen clears her throat. "My Queen. Rumors do not do your beauty justice… I shall include you into my prayers, and offer the best wishes of my House of de Falt." She exhales, a faint rosiness gracing the cheeks of the young lady. And barely does she manage to draw herself away from the regal couple, a breathless "Your Grace," offered to Earl Robert along with another curtsey, before Lady Leodwen makes room for the next congratulation!

Acwel checked his lustful of 7, he rolled 1.
Aeron checked his lustful of 13, he rolled 9.
Acwel rolls 3d6 and gets (4 3 3) for a total of: (10)
Aeron rolls 3d6 and gets (1 4 4) for a total of: (9)

Honored, truly honored, Catryn offers a deep bow, "I will name my son Madoc, thank you for the honor, Your Majesty," a smile even appears, something so rarely seen on the face of the Burcombe. "I wish you both a long, happy and glorious future." Not wanting to hold up the line, she bows once more before stepping aside.

Erylys gives Belonna one last look as the young dog is taken by Sir Kay, then steps away from him, leaving the dog behind to be presented to the royals later by their knight. The dog gives her a look, but is quickly distracted by the favor of the older knight as she's sat down near him. Listening to the King's answer she nods once, then seeks to see who is within the pavillion now.

Aeron is there amongst the various Knights waiting to be presented to the king for the gifting ceremony, his attention on the little spectacle, and the Queen, of course, like many of the knights of the realm.

There is a a nod from Arthur to Catryn, the trust certainly there, as any vassal would have from the King. Guenever nods along with Arthur, offering, "Thank you Sir Catryn." Appreciative of that moment, learning more of Arthur herself for the moment. As she is off a lady approaches to wish them well from the Salisbury showing. The turn and listen of course. A hint of a smile from the queen, "Thank you kindly, Lady Leodwen." As offered by Sir Robert at the approach of course, all names checked with Seren in the line so everyone is properly placed. "And you shall be in our prayers, the safety of your house." Technically, probably all vassals,but it fits and political said and all. Arthur nods agreement with the words of his wife. "Your prayers are appreciated, Lady Leodwen." The nod the acceptance of this, turning to see who may well be next.

Seriol stands his place in line, occasionally advancing by steps as it proceeds towards the seated royals. He's dressed rather festively in his best wool, a not entirely flattering shade of blue that does at least manage to be somewhat bright. Both Arthur and Guenevere are getting their fair share of considering looks, and the other knights requests are listened to. The large man does seem to be in good spirits at least, an impressive enough feat when queued up.

The gift of a puppy rather evidently surprised Custennin… but Sir Kay's evident appreciation for the little creature draws a warmly approving smile from the big Falt knight, distracting him long enough that he fails to register his sister slipping away from his side. It's only when he looks back to Catryn, hearing the warm response her own unusual gift-request receives, that he realizes he's without his petite companion. Nodding warmly to Catryn in recognition of her choice of request he spots his sister - and freezes slightly. Then all turns out well, and he greets her with a sheepishly broad grin as she returns. "I'm not sure you were supposed to do that," he mutters, "but are they not wonderful?"

Deryn checked her trusting of 10, she rolled 12.

Kamron steps up as his name is called, dropping to one knee and bowing his head in obeisance to the High King, "Sir Kamron de Dinton, Your Majesties. The love you obviously bear for one another is like something from a story." His eyes rise up toward the King and Queen — okay, let's be honest, the Queen — and a light flush touches his cheeks and the points of his ears, "It is inspiring and provides hope to us all that there is a romance in the world that can move even the hardest of hearts." Not that he has ever been known to have a hard heart, except where the prospect of marriage is concerned. "I ask nothing but a token to remember this day and the radiance of your love for one another."

Erylys spies her cousin, and before she leaves, she moves over to him to give greeting. "Cousin! I managed to give Bellona to them.. or to Sir Kay." She gestures to the older knight who has the pup with him. Proud of that is she. A quick hug, and she murmurs, "Good luck.." She'll stay long enough to see his request before slipping out, not wishing to take up any space when it is needed for the knights.

"Wonderful news, Erylys!" Aeron says at that, flashing the woman a little smile and returning the quick hug before letting her step back to watch the next request, and the response given it from the King and Queen.

Leodwen's smile will widen when she perceives Guenevere's own, even if that of the queen is decidedly more moderate, the de Falt lady inclines her head to her and then to Ling Arthur, in acknowledgement of his kind response. "Thank you, your Majesty.", said as she slips away and returns to Custennin's side. A soft, slightly awkward chuckle escapes Leodwen before she replies: "I wanted to pay my respects, brother… And I don't think I gave offense?" The awkwardness fades as her expression turns slightly dreamy, in reaction to Custennin's question. "Aye, they are." Wonderful, indeed.

Custennin briefly settles one hand on Leodwen's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I suspect that there will be more than a few people breaking decorum to congratulate them," he murmurs to his sister. "And they seemed pleased by it. I am truly glad that you got to see, and speak with, them as well as myself."

As each approach, Seren announces the names and checks them against the list. A smile is given to the lady who offers her best wishes, completely understanding the reaction to the Queen. Another glance is stolen to the King and Queen before she looks to see who is next in line and announce them as well. Listening to Kamron, she gives him a look of encouragement, glad to see him there, so automatically, she seeks out the taller of the Dintons…

Cyndeyrn arrives escorting his sister, the pair joining the assuredly long line of assembled knights streaming into the castle to pay their respects to the royal couple. For the moment, with many in the way, this means he is not quite yet struck by the awe of that famous pair, although surely that moment quick approaches. The large Dinton is patient for his part, seemingly in no rush about the whole affair, and takes his time behind some of the others to admire the unfamiliar castle hall. He does glance ahead hearing something, a name called and a voice following it, but cannot quite pick his cousin out ahead. Of course, the reverse is probably an easier task, as he does tend to stand out around, or above some of his peers.

Cynrain stands with the other knights. He watches as the others step forward. Catryn's request especially brings a darker shade to his cheeks as he lowers his head. As more continue to approach, his eyes watch them, though he remains still, almost like that of a statue.

Walking alongside her brother as they join the large gathering within this great and majestic hall, Lysanor cannot help but feel her heart race, the excitement of the day threatening to overwhelm her. Cyndeyrn's tall and impress frame far more than merely towers her over his sisters tiny form. Though it is her thick mass of wavy red hair that truly draws attention to the dimunitive Dinton. Dressed in her best fineries, wearing her House colors, Lysanor's bright blue eyes scan her surroundings as well, before pointing out in Kamron's direction, "There he is, brother." And even still, her attention does not remain on her cousin, as he takes in all of the sights and sounds around her, the lavish colors, the fine dress and jewelry, even hairstyles which the other ladies wear. However, it is not those that she seeks, as her gaze finally peers out in the distance to view the royal couple in quiet awe.

Acwel's arrival is accompanied by the arrivals of Sirs Deryn and Aluksander. The Woodford vassal knight is clad in courtly garb, in black and a darker shade of red, the three dragons of his coat-of-arms embroidered on the right chest of his tunic. The sight of the High King and the Queen strikes some hesitation in the man's otherwise cool demeanor, his attention lingering on the woman for a couple moments before he bows, to his liege and the liege of his liege as well as his consort. For now, he remains silent, waiting for his turn.

Deryn steps in after her cousin, Acwel, and with Aluksander. Following the gaze to the front, she pauses to take in the sight of the King and Queen, gaze lingering on the pair as one knight speaks with them. Unlike the males, she's not caught by the Queen's great beauty, but seems instead, intrigued, nodding to some inner thought before glancing to both Acwel and Aluksander.

Robert will announces as well, but lets Kamron give his name just the same. Cordial enough in the presentation of it and all. Arthur and Guenevere listen to the man. Guenvere nods first, "You speak true sir. Love should be inspiring." There is more that could be said, but this is not the place, nor the time by a good long while for her to be more vocal on this just yet. The young king seems to agree with his wife however, by the nod of his head. The gifts were a token in a way, but this man wanted little more. Thus, he looks to Sir Kay, "One of the chords." Sir Kay blinks, then nods to another. It is fetched, one of the chords from the handfasting between King and Queen used at their wedding. It wasn't handfasting persay, but a nod to the tradition of such as a local custom to the Isles. They come back with an offwhite chord used in the ceremony. "Sir Kamron, take this token of today, may it provide you hope in romance." He settles back down, giving a nod of his head. The other can say more, but he will be turning to the next. Robert has the line with Acwel, Deryn and Aluksander so far …. Others joining the line as the festivities continue.

Kamron rises up to accept the chord, his brows climbing his forehead before he clasps it to his breast, closing his eyes tightly as he bows his head once more, "Thank you, Your Majesty. With all my heart, thank you. It is a magnificent gift that I hope will lead me to a love as true as yours." And then he withdraws, looking over the neutral fabric and running it between his fingers with a wondering look.

Having entered with her brother, Heulwen is initially taken aback by the splendor - or at least what passes as splendor in comparison to her own modest living. She is decked in blue wool, simple and modest, but of a hue that complements Kamron's clothing. She lingers starry-eyed at his side, quiet and contemplative, right up until it is nearly time for him to present. At that moment, she parts from his side with a quiet murmur and makes her way into the crowd. And so she is there waiting with a warm smile and wringing hands to greet Kamron, excited but doing her best to remain subdued.

Walking in just behind Acwel and Deryn, Aluksander is dressed in his finest attire. His long hair is tied back with ribbons that are tied in decorative bows. His mother is on his arm this afternoon, as opposed to anyone else. His mother comments very quietly about all there is to see, but Aluksander tends to only nod quietly as they follow the Woodfords.

It is one of the few occasions that Gideon wears the black and gold of the house as opposed to something more suited to the wilderness, spun in black and gold with each of the paired double adders chasing up the arm of his tunic. He reconnnoiters first, watching the exchange of gifts and whom has moved to the front of the line. Arthur and Guinever receive only a glance out of the corner of his eye: no disrespect but instead trying to gather as much information as possible without being struck by the glory and majesty of it all. There are probably other Staplefords in attendance, but does anyone ever really know how many there are or are not? Gideon isn't often so sure himself.

Kamron clasps the chord tight as he makes his way back to Heulwen's side, offering it out slightly for her to look at it and hushing, "I know, right, Wen? They actually touched this, while professing their love for one another." Or their duty for one another, but perhaps it's the same thing to the young knight at the moment. Glancing behind him, he inquires in that same low tone, "Have Deyr and Lysie made it, yet? I haven't heard their names…"

"Your Lordship, Your Majesties," Acwel approaches, bowing to the High King and the Earl in turn, his expression carefully neutral as he casts a glance to Guinevere, then back to Arthur. He straightens up, draws in a breath and speaks: "It is a time for celebration of the Realms: after all, our High King has married a beautiful woman who I have no doubt will be admired by both gentry and small folk, a true complement to Your Majesty's strong sense of justice and determination to do what is right. For some, to bear witness to this occasion may be the highlight of their lives, a glimpse to greater heights than they can achieve." He pauses, as though whatever he rehearsed to say hits a metaphorical road block of a sorts, "And as you give us gifts to remember you by, I ask not for myself, for I can provide for me and my own, but rather for my people. Woodford is a place of God-faithful, hard-working people, and every day I am concerned for its welfare, having seen what may happen, God forbid, to places where those who keep the land are away, on duty for their Earl and King. And it is because of this worry and seeking to improve the comfort of those whose lives I am meant to protect, that I have a hefty request to make."

He pauses, bows again, and requests, "If it would be a possible gift for the people of my simple hamlet, it would forever be an honor if a tower could be built there."

Heulwen lifts one hand to wave, drawing Kamron's attention in her direction. As he approaches with hands outstretched, she reaches out as if to touch the cord, but withdraws hesitantly. "And so they have blessed you with the hope of eternal love, brother. How so like a tale, hmm? Will you star in a bard's epic, perhaps?" She laughs quietly, and only then does she reach out to stroke the cord reverently with her fingertips. Without drawing her gaze from it, she lifts her free hand and gestures toward the line. "I saw them together, just there. They are waiting their turn."

Having already received her gift, Catryn remains on the side, listening to what others would ask for. Noticing the item Kamron received, the Burcombe gives a quirk of her lips and an ever so slight nod of approval. Sentimental, the lot of them. Seeking out Cynrain in his own quest in the line to speak, she offers a nod of greeting for her betrothed. Surprise! Your future son already has a name!

Listening to the next in line, Sir Acwel, announced again by Robert, Arthur hears him out. A slight shift half way through of course, but otherwise all ears. "Ah, improvements? What is it you seek for your home, some repair, some fortification?" A pause to await an answer, but a look shared with Robert. Guenever remains silent during this moment, nothing pulls her interest into this request. "Depending on the nature of this improvement, I shall give what I can to see that work is underway, but look to your liege for the burden of support for such a venture. If Woodford Manor is a location of importance, he shall share in this defense of our lands, and in turn, I imagine more should be assumed of your obligations to him." Of course, he has yet to hear the full request.

A tower it is of course, "I dare say, the stone I can supply, some of the timber. The engineers and the construction something to be determined between Earl Robert and yourself." Something for down the line, the construction could well take a long time on something like that as it is. He looks to Sir Kay, a nod given, he would know where the stone may come from. And plans to the east of Salisbury, it will need to be brought from the west or north most likely. A nod given that this is what he would gift, he can work it out with Sir Kay on where supplies would come from and when they would be needed of course. Robert nods, he has time to think about it, he looks for the next Knight, Sir Deryn.

Kamron nods encouragement to his sister when she reaches for the chord and pauses, "Go ahead, Wen." His cheeks light a little more with a blush at her words, and he nods, "It was well spoken and gifted of Their Majesties, although I would have expected no less. And I don't need Lore," that would be his lute-playing, singing friend of a knight from court, "singing anything about me, thank you very much." The gesture to the line turns Kamron around in that direction, and he nods, "Do you know what Deyr will ask for? I never got a chance to speak to him about it." His thumb continues to stroke the material clasped lightly between his hands.

When her brother comes, her smile is a bit more vibrant. His request has Seren stealing a glance to Earl Robert and the Royal couple. As soon as it is granted, she ducks her head and writes down the request beside the name, just doing the paper work for Robert he would need to see at a later time. The next name is given to Robert so that he can announce Sir Deryn de Woodford.

Though he looked both impressed and amused by Kamron's request, and pleased by the response to it, Custennin's heavy brows lift sharply as a *tower* is requested as a wedding-gift… and for a manor in the heart of the county no less. He blinks in astonishment at Acwel's boldness, before clearing his throat and self-consciously smoothing down his monochrome attire. Best for the giant not to make his reactions *too* evident or long-lasting.

Noting that her cousin had just now received his own gift, Lysanor cannot help but be incredibly curious about it all. If ever her eyes do meet across the way with Heulwen, Kamron or both, she will offer them a graceful, if still subtle wave, her features aglow and smiling. The young woman has an urge to go and join them and inquire about the gift and anything else which she may have missed, but instead, she remains by Cyndeyrn's side. With such a crowd, she can barely make out little Seren in the distance, but she is pleased to see her friend present! The line which her brother is in continues to move forward and though she is not a knight, herself, she does feel the anxious nervousness which some of these knights may be facing when approaching the good King and the lovely Guinevere.

His time in the line over, Acwel flashes a smile to his sister, the Scribe, before opting to join the Dinton cousins in onlooking the gift-giving event. A simple greeting for Kamron, one which involves a knightly salute as he looks towards Heulwen. Offering her a smile, he extends his hand, palm up, in a courtly greeting to the Lady. "Sir Kamron, Lady Heulwen. Glad to see you both in Carlion."

When it is her turn, Aluksander watches Sir Deryn carefully. But, since she has to approach the king, she also has to approach the queen, which means Aluksander can't help but to look. This in turn leads to a rapid blush in his face and he is forced to immediately look back at the ground. His mother, still at his side for the moment, notices his behavior and clicks her tongue at him, whispering something that inky he can hear before he nods and straightens up a bit.

After her cousin has received his gift and walked away from the throne, Deryn steps forwards after a glance to Aluksander, one rather thoughtful expression to cross her face then as she studies the other knight. She then turns to make the walk to kneel before King and Queen. A knight is she, one dressed in tunic and pants of her House colors, hair braided tightly behind her head. Bowing her head, she closes her eyes, then finally lifts them to meet the gaze of the royal couple, "I believe my cousin has said it far better than I could so I offer my humble and heartfelt congratulations to both of you upon your marriage this day. May the blessings that surround your nuptials ripple out into your kingdom, felt by all of your subjects, great and small." That said, she moves gracefully to her feet to stand. "My gift I ask not for myself, but for the future that might be born to me eventually after I marry. I ask that my first living male child to reach the age to be squired might be taken in by you, your majesty? If not squired beneath you, than one of your trusted knights? The honor, and great teachings you would bestow upon my child, is worth more than I could say." To this request, she then waits to see the reaction of King and Queen.

"I think you revoked the right to determine whether or not you will be in a song when you requested a gift of love from the King and Queen before all and sundry, brother," Heulwen mutters to Kamron, following up any possible sting with an amused smile that might serve to lessen the harshness of her words. She rests a hand on his for a moment, vibrating with barely suppressed laughter, and then turns away in an attempt to calm herself. She catches sight of her cousin and offers a warm smile, lifting her hand to return the wave in kind. "Alas, I had not thought to ask Lysie if she knew. We had guests, and the subject never came up during their visit…ah!" She stops abruptly at Acwel's appearance before them, and reaches out automatically to accept his hand and greet him cordially with, "Sir Acwel."

Kamron is watching the line, and so he returns Lysanor's wave with a little gestures meant to be seen between people rather than over them. After all, he's shorter than most of the men present. He blushes a little at his sister's murmured words, and he pats the hand atop his, nodding, "Yes well, I suppose I won't complain so long as the songs are complimentary." As Acwel approaches, he returns the little salute and a nod of greeting to the other knight, "Sir Acwel, a pleasure to see you as well." Unconsciously, he begins folding the cord loosely over itself, "Quite the bold request, Sir Acwel. A little concerned by our encounter with the Picts?"

Guenever looks to Sir Deryn at the request, as does Arthur, gaining a little atttention from both in that moment. Arthur nods an affirmative before words come to his lips. "The first son you have," to reach an age of course, "Shall be welcomed to squire amongst my household." Not directly to him of course, but where ever he is at that time, a place close shall be found he implies. "A place shall be found for him. Sir Kay will assure this as will I." He indicates the table, for his scribes and officers to make note of this request. "I hope I can be a good teacher as you might see in my Sir Deryn." He will nod, once he has a moment, Guenevere says something silently to him for the moment. Robert gives a nod and introduces, "Sir Aluksander de Pitton."

All this while, Cyndeyrn is characteristically impassive as he holds his place in the line of knights, waiting. If anything, his natural demeanor is well suited to dull moments (he always got on well through garrison duty!), even if it is not the most flattering fact. There does seem a moment as he can hear Sir Acwel's gift discussed where he may look more thoughtful, and as the familiar knight descends and joins some of his cousins off to the side, he turns that way, and joins his sister in giving a small nod toward them in greeting, although he doesn't call over - it feels awkward to shout about in the Pendragon's presence!

Deryn smiles then at the promise of King, her head to bow to both he and his queen, "I thank you then, Your Majesties, and look forwards to the day when I and my husband will deliver our son into your hands and teachings." Only then does a bloom of color come to her cheeks, the thoughts of that future taking hold of her then. With another formal bow, she turns and walks down the aisle, her gaze immediately going to Aluksander as he is announced. To those that look, her blush darkens further then!

Leaning forward, Acwel kisses Heulwen's hand, meeting the noblewoman's gaze for a moment as he straightens up, letting the hand go gently. "I hope the travel here was not too fraught with problems." Kamron has his attention, then, and he nods to the man's words, watching the cord as the Dinton knight folds it over itself. His smile turns into a knowing grin, though the man's question has him pensive, "Not the Picts, actually. But rather what we saw in Tilshead. I would not wish that on anyone, especially not my own people."

Heulwen folds her hands together quietly, content to look between her brother and Sir Acwel from time to time. While the discussion of that which might have occurred at Tilshead is probably thrilling to some, for Wen it is less so. She stifles a yawn with her fingertips and then cranes to see above other heads. "Is he next, Kam? I cannot tell from here." And then somewhat distractedly, "What happened there, Sir Acwel?"

Catryn remains where she moved after giving her own request if only to listen and be part of what is happening at the gift requestion. Her eyes move to the Pitton knight, a familiar face to her family, an ally and then on to Cynrain who is behind him.

Kamron returns Cyndeyrn's nod with an encouraging smile, then looks back in time to catch Acwel's greeting of his sister. The knight arches one eyebrow, but a smile is still dancing across his lips. The mention of Tilshead — and by extension Imber — banishes that smile instantly, however, and he grimaces just a touch. "I understand that entirely, Sir Acwel. It was an unpleasant scene indeed." Looking back to Heulwen, he notes quietly, "Saxons overran the manor of Imber. We were able to save many of their people, but certainly not all."

"It certainly left a lasting impression on my memories of the place," Acwel explains to Kamron, his own expression neutral before looking to Heulwen, "Looking forward to the excitement of the tourneys, Lady Heulwen?" He wonders of the Dinton lady, more than glad to jump onto the opportunity of broaching lighter, more broadly enjoyable topics. "I am seriously considering the joust, despite the sword being my strongest suit."

Aluksander's eyes go wide at Deryn's request. He then also turns crimson, unable to hide his smirk as he listens. His mother smiles brightly, giving his arm a squeeze as they stand there in line. When Deryn turns and looks at him, he meets her gaze and smirks, but tries to keep done semblance of composure. They're not even engaged yet, after all. And then, he is announced.
Taking a deep breath, he looks to his mother for a moment, nodding to her as she releases His arm. He then takes a deep breath and steps forward, bowing first to king and queen, then his earl. "My Lords, your majesty, your highness," he begins, almost managing to sound confident. "I am the only son of my line, a line which has seen itself cut short before its time the past two generations. As such, we have never had the opportunity to prove ourselves to our liege or our king. So, my request would be that, if I prove worthy in the tournament to come, that your highness might see fit to allow me to serve thee in thy next campaign, wherever it may go."

"Oh." Heulwen is brought up short, and she glances first to Kamron and then to Acwel with an expression bordering on alarm. "I am quite sorry to hear of it, indeed…" The thought trails off leaving Wen feeling a bit awkward, but luckily Acwel has the presence of mind to shift the subject. Her expression lightens considerably, and she even offers him a small smile. "Will you, then? I have always found the joust fascinating, to be sure, but there's nothing quite like the test of skill with sword. I think it a degree more exciting myself."

Taking the name from Earl Robert, Arthur watches Aluksander and notices the blush, even Guenever does. It causes a smile to rise at her lips as she looks over him. Elsewise, she eludes a focal point by looking about the great hall for the moment. Arthur shifts a little, a hand to his chin a moment in thought. "Sir Aluksander, this is an honor for us as well. Should you prove worthy in the tournament, we would certainly want your arm in the next campaign. I shall bestow you with this gift then. We shall watch you in the lists, and be ready to make good on your request. Where ever we may go." A nod of certainly from the young King. He nods to Sir Kay as well to the marking of such notes. Arthur sits up more straight, glad for such loyal knights as this, a kind nod then to Aluksander as he looks to Robert for the next. Sir Cynrain.

In between announcing names to Earl Robert who in turns announces them to King Arthur, Seren keeps a look at the line of people awaiting their turn. Her eyes fall on her brother and the Lady he is speaking with as well as on Sir Kamron who is still without his cousin. As Aluksander makes his request she checks the list for the name of the next, offering it to Robert before a nod is given the Durnford. Then there was Cyndeyrn. A blush rises in her cheeks and she looks away to see what it is the Durnford would ask.

With the mass of people coming and going, the vision in white probably would not stand out /to/ much. Laurwyn makes her way into the great hall as she looks around for the other Woodford's she knows are there. She is trailed behind by some squire that has been tasked with looking after her. He looks awed to even be within the crowded hall.

Laurwyn checked her trusting of 10, she rolled 4.

Better late than never, right? Particularly when the cause for being late is a fragrant one, in the case of the light attar dabbed furtively upon Eirian's throat. A bit of speculation finds her tarrying outside the hall, timing her entrance to other departures where she will not be walking in alone, obvious to all and sundry that she missed an opportunity to spy the Pendragon and have a tale worthy of telling her non-existent future children about. It could happen! The flowers wound among her glossy hair are fresh to the point of still turning towards the sun, and bluebells and primroses weave to subtle effect. She dares to stand upon her toes, looking over the assembled heads of knights, ladies, and everyone in between. Vivid blue eyes brim with luminous curiosity, even as she has to confront that wall of bodies. Perhaps no one's likely to mind if she rides on Custennin's shoulders to actually see the unfolding events, even as she lightly tugs on the folds of her cloak doing a reasonable job of hiding the fact she's a dirty pagan; the woad marks on her wrists and climbing higher are not Christian, not in the least.

Kneeling and crossing his fist over his heart, Aluksander bows his head. "Thank you, your majesty," he says, before rising and turning to quickly retreat from the royals. So quick, in fact, that he almost forgets to collect his mother on the way, which only proves to deepen his blush. However, once his mother is again attached to his arm, Aluksander leads her after sirs Acwel and Deryn.

Kamron follows the change of topic readily enough, although he does rub at his left hip, where he caught a Saxon axe at Imber. The questions about the tourney case him to chuckle and shake his head, "The joust is just not for me, I'm afraid. I look a little too ridiculous with a lance so much taller than I. Besides, I cannot exactly risk the ransom. I would prefer not to be such a drain on Earl Robert or my family. I'm afraid it will just be the melee for me." He nudges Heulwen briefly, "Or the axe, Wen." Even if he's not wearing his at the moment. Looking back to Acwel, he lifts his brows in question, "Have you asked a favor of some lucky lady then, Sir Acwel?" Apparently, he doesn't know.

"Perhaps you do have a point, there, my Lady. The clash of swords is far more exciting for myself, as well" Acwel muses, bringing a hand up to scratch lightly at his cheek, thoughtfully. As the Lady has a small smile for him, he has a brief one for her. "I will see what I decide upon, though I am rather sure that either way it goes, I will acquit myself well." His other hand brushes against a piece of dark blue cloth bound just under the guard of his sword.

Deryn has been quietly watching while Aluksander makes his own request of the king. His words do surprise her, the blush paling just a little as some thought crosses her mind. Fingers lace together, holding there, and once he turns to head in her way - she's standing somewhere's between his mother and her cousin and the others Acwel speaks with, she offers him a wry smile.

Kamron's question has the Woodford glance to the knight, and his smile brightens a little. "I have, Sir Kamron. And I was granted it." He casts a furtive glance to Heulwen, then.

Custennin is rather easy for Eirian (or anyone else) to spot: the giant newly enfeoffed with his familial estate looms over all save a handful of the other menfolk here, and is clad in his finest attire - the sable and argent as gleamingly dark and bright as can be managed. He's also among those gazing with most evident adoration in the direction of the thrones and their occupants.

Naught prohibits Eirian from moving through the crowd, so long as polite words to excuse herself are managed. Given no Burcombe heirs and knights lurk in the vicinity, she follows the Falt line towards its inevitable conclusion, squashed in a small place near the giant master of the house. This way, should Caerwyn bomb his way through and get the lot of his relations put to the sword. Two fingers pinch the excess of her wool over tunic, tugging it high enough to walk, and she rapidly orients herself on slipping out of sight and re-emerging somewhere nearby. No need to announce herself loudly; if he hasn't spotted her, Custennin might hear that cultivated soprano piping up behind him at a pitch to be heard in short range and little else.

Custennin checked his awareness of 5, he rolled 18


Perhaps Heulwen is a bit distracted by the ceremonial proceedings, rising as she does onto her tiptoes to peer beyond Acwel at her cousins still waiting dutifully in line. With a sigh, she drops back down to her heels and returns to the conversation with a flutter of confusion. "A Saxon hit you with an axe?" she inquires of Kamron with a slight hiss, combining several separate statements into one jumbled conclusion. The nudge at her ribs does her good, however, and she reaches up to tuck her hair behind ears in a flustered sort of way. "Ohhh, the axe. Yes, yes, of course—ah." Pause. "Mine, brother," she clarifies, gesturing vaguely toward Acwel's sword.

Laurwyn pauses to curtsy towards the throne though does not think to come to close, the swirling of white appears and then disappears as the tiny lady moves with a swaying grace towards one side of the hall. Her eyes flicker and land on the new Queen and she can't help a little pleased smile for whatever reason before she tries to find said family again. With Acwel just so popular, she will finally make her swaying steps end just behind his little group.

Kamron checked his awareness of 9, he rolled 5.

Stepping into the hall, Martyn pauses just inside the entrance to look around very briefly at the crowds. Taking a brief moment of pause, before he makes his way further into the room.

Custennin remains wholly oblivious to Eirian's presence for some time. He's not wholly lost in introspection, however, so after a slight delay his mind *does* succeed in processing the words quietly directed to him. Even so, it takes him another moment to actually locate the fey little lady addressing to him, after which he flashes a broad grin down at her. He inclines his head… then self-consciously sinks to a knee, so that he offer a quiet response of his own.

Kamron smiles at Acwel's response, "Excellent." He's opening his mouth to continue when he notices that little furtive look, and his eyebrows rise sharply, and he looks over to Heulwen, "Wennie…?" That's the 'what have you done now' tone from their childhood, and then she cops to it easily enough, and he laughs easily, keeping it quiet so the sound does not ring out too loudly in the midst of the Pendragon's Court, "Well then. You have chosen a most noble knight to favor, sister-mine. And yes, he did. To be fair, I was trying to return the favor." Looking back to Acwel, he nods sharply, "Well, you will have to show well now, Sir Acwel, with the favor of my sister on the line." And then there is another presence approaching the group, and he half-turns to welcome Laurwyn to the conversation, "Lady."

A squire steps into the pavilion, and after a brief look about, finally spies Deryn. Moving to the knight's side, he gets her attention, and a quiet conversation is had. With a slight frown upon her lips, she does speak to Aluksander when he gets close to her, "I need to go check on Nebula. He's being.. a royal pain. I can't have him getting himself hurt before the joust.." That would not be good. So, she turns, and walks off to go tend her charger.

Standing upon her toes, Eirian discreetly turns her head away from the assembled masses to make a conversation somewhat easier upon the speaker, and less distracting. As if the subtle eloquence plied through a soprano is bound to be distracting for the wondrous presence of a High King and his bride, but you never know. The very notion of anyone sinking down does, however, very nearly make her laugh. Such a terrible disaster is averted in kind by an immediate softening of her expression, and whatever she has to say is appropriately terrible.

Eirian checked her Trusting of 10, she rolled 1.

"Lady Laurwyn," Acwel greets the Woodford lady, smiling at her and stepping aside that she might come closer to the group. Heulwen just comes out with it and the Woodford knight has a surprised expression, but all the same he laughs when Kamron does, apparently surprised in such a way. "I believe I will, Sir Kamron, with this favor," he looks to the Dinton brunette, "I am confident my blade will strike truer, and my success in the melee will be respectable, if not great."

Custennin offers Eirian a bashfully grateful smile. Even at such close range, it seems not to perturb her - the small redhead apparently well-accustomed to the newly-made knight's less-than-homely appearance. He continues to respond quietly, his deep voice pitched low to carry little farther than Eirian's own ears.

Cynrain steps forward and takes a knee. His head remains low as though the sheer weight of their presence was overwhelming. He says in a voice loud enough to be heard by them, "To kneel before you is a great honor. This is a day that shall forever be ingrained within my heart. The only gift I seek is your forgiveness. On my journey here, I agreed to a duel. Arrogant was I in thinking I could succeed. My failure in this joust requires me to be removed from the service of my Liege Lord for a period of 6 months while I serve another Castle. As such were the terms, I felt that refusing to do so would be a greater dishonor. Honor is everything to me. It is higher than any wealth, any title, or any item that I could receive. All I ask, with no expectations, is your forgiveness, and that you please not consider my actions to be reflective upon Sir Robert. I would not dare ask for anything else. I would gladly lay down my life for you, and for my Liege Lord without hesitation. To feel that I've failed to live up to the vows I spoke when I felt the blade rest against my shoulder is a feeling I hope no one else has to endure. Thank you, your Grace, for allowing me the honor to kneel before you. I wish you and your family true bliss and eternal love that will be told to future generations for as long as Mankind walks this Earth."

Huw is not here for the gift-giving itself persay, but more the grand spectacle itself. With neither spurs nor land he slips into the very back of the hall and makes no effort to advance forward. Hood down and arms linked in his long slieves he glides sideways along the wall until he reaches a spot where he can see through the crowds, catch a glimpse of the King, and survey the vast expanse of the nobility and the gentry assembled. Once he's found a place he watches silently, there is a task from his abbot he must complete, but that is not for now. Now is for witnessing a wonder, and trying not to be too overwhelmed by the situation and crowds.

Laurwyn steps gently into the small grouping around Acwel, a lovely smile touching her lips at his greeting, "Sir Acwel, you honor our name as always.." Her voice is a soft lifting tone, meant for small groups as she turns her attention to those gather around. Kamron is looked up to as she smiles softly again, but she is silent as she has not been introduced to most of those here.
You paged Robert with 'Sir Cyndeyrn de Dinton is next, and then Sir Seriol de Bishopstone, then Sir Gideon de Stapleford then Martyn de Baverstock'

Arthur weighs the words of the man as he listens to them. "You have as much time to do as you see fit, attend your lands, care for your manor. If in this time you make cause to aid another, I can only hope you do so while brining honor to Logres and, indeed Salisbury." Guenevere remains aloof mostly, not taking an interesting in this wager or said outcomes of some joust on the road. Probably lots of that going on with so many travelling to Carlion. "Should you have attendance to your manor during this time and all oblibations are met othewise, then I see no reason to be forgiven. Though, Sir Cynrain, I will grant you this truly. You are forgiven for this slight wrong you feel responsible for, please make us proud." Hopefully said other knight isn't one of the enemies of Logres, sercretly recruiting within the borders of course. But Arthur is trusting in this moment, granting the gift of forgiveness. Earl Robert another matter of course. He watches Cynrain, then turns to Cyndeyran to announce him once Cynrain has received his gift.

As both she and Cyndeyrn move closer and closer to the lovely royal couple, Lysanor's vibrant blue eyes lift to view them more directly now. Squeezing tightly onto one of her brother's hands when it is his name called, the small auburn-haired Dinton takes a single step forward in time with his own, before lowering herself into a demure curtsey to both King Arthur and the good queen. When she finally rises to stand at her proud, yet diminutive full height, she takes a graceful step to the side to allow her brother this moment before the Pendragon. All the while, however, her heart continues to beat so rapidly and for a moment, she feels as if she cannot breathe and yet, she continues to smile brightly in support of her brother.

Critical Fail!
Lysanor checked her trusting of 10, she rolled 20.

From somewhere within the thicket of nobility, the youngest flower of Burcombe Manor puts her fingers to her mouth rather than allow anyone to determine the depth of emotion for what she is told. Her eyes speak all the same to it: flaring, a brightened blue washed by vexed pique. She shakes her head, bending slightly to murmur a response to Custennin. Those two are old gossips, surely.

When Cyndeyrn is at last called, he makes his approach, traveling together at least some ways with his sister but then departing from her to approach and be introduced by Robert. Although the overlarge Dinton knight is known by acquaintances as something of a quiet stoic, it is obvious enough he is a bit awed by their presence. With the High King, it is for all the expected reasons, meeting in flesh what has been only legend until that moment. For his Queen, the reaction is wholly of an unexpected kind! Surely he heard tales of her beauty just as he heard tales of the King and his father and uncle before him, but mere tales fail to do great beauty justice in the fashion that beholding does. Naturally, he too feels a certain flush of embarrassment over the surprising, if not totally unprecedented reaction, made all the worse by another pair of eyes he is all too aware of, a gaze that has witnessed him act much the same.
Thus there is probably some relief in taking to one knee and bowing his head, averting his gaze from the one he would rather avoid, as well as the troublingly radiant visage of the Queen and her husbands own gaze, which now he feels must surely see right through him and thus find cause for insult! "Your Majesties, my Lord," he speaks first, and then, after some moments gathering himself and his courage to even speak to them. "It is my great honor, ah, to witness your blessed union." Speaking of love and the beauty of the wedding is hardly his forte, but his confidence grows as his words take up more familiar ground. "As a knight, I am first and last a warrior sworn in the service of the laws of God and King, sworn ultimately to your service, as my ancestors have been to your own. Like another knight who has come before you today, I have recently witnessed great horrors wrought by our enemies, and so I ask for a token of your righteous might, that wherever I travel, whatever battle I find, my foes, be they Saxon, Pict, Frank or any other, shall know that they are not beyond the justice of the Pendragon, that it's reach extends to every corner of this isle and beyond."
He pauses very briefly, and then adds, "And if it does not offend, I have a second request… albeit not for you, my King, nor your Queen." Plot twist?

Lysanor rolls 1d3 and gets (1) for a total of: (1)

Kamron bows his head to Laurwyn as she approaches, "And you must be another of the jewels of Woodford, Lady. A pleasure to meet you. I am Sir Kamron de Dinton, friend to Lady Seren, and I dare say, to Sir Acwel. And the lovely lady beside me is my sister, Heulwen de Dinton." The Woodford knight's words about his sister's favor, however, have him tsking softly, "Ahh, but Sir Acwel, do you not claim then that your regard for my sister is respectable, if not great? I must insist on more than that. Modesty for a knight is a virtue, but modesty of behalf of a lady? Never." But then his cousins are at the head of the line, and he turns his head in the direction of the thrones and those before it. He nods sharply at the first request, but the news of a second causes him to blink sharply in surprise, curiosity running over his features.

Ah, finally one of Salisbury suggesting something battle oriented. Guenevere looks at that puppy Sir Kay has, who has received some scratches, and a page sent off to get a bone from the hounds as they tore the meat from it. Poor page. Arthurs listens and nods to the man. "As you ride, under whatever banner you serve directly," he returns, "You shall have a pennon then, to show that you bring this justice of the Pendragon." A nod to Sir Kay is given, this they have not to far on hand, it is brought out to be given to Cyndeyrn. "As long as it is in service against our common enemies and foes." Suggesting he hopes not to hear otheriwse, as he takes the retrieved pennon, to hand it over, he gives pause. "Aye, and to whom would you address this second request?" The intrigue taken of course, even Guenevere looks back with some curiousity.

Gossiping (or whatever it was) at least temporarily accomplished with Eirian, Custennin rises to his full height once more - the motion and sheer size of the black-and-white-clad knight providing an easy opportunity for Huw (or anyone else who might be seeking him) to spot him and home in on his location. For now, however, the Falt is back to gazing adoringly at the the royal couple, while paying a small portion of attention to the words directed to them. This mysterious 'second request', however, is sufficient to have him focus more firmly.

Another name added, the forgiveness request does bring a curious look to the Knight. Still, it is written in to become a permanent part of the requests. As Cyndeyrn kneels before the royal couple, Seren waits to see what it is he would request. The voiced request is written, recorded and she dips her quill once more, hesitating over the parchment. Another request? Glancing from the Dinton heir to Earl Robert, who she assumes the request would be for, she awaits with quill poised to write.

Cynrain dips his head lower and then stands. He moves to stand beyond view of the others, remaining towards the back of the room until the proceedings have been completed.

Pausing as he listens to what's being said, Martyn moves further into a good place to listen to the requests and such. Looking a bit thoughtful as he does.

"It is my greatest honor to receive it, my King," Cyndeyrn will answer of the gift he receives. "Wherever I ride to battle, its sight will precede my charge and our foes will know their judgment imminent." He will take and carefully fold the banner when given, and then not immediately cast from their presence for the temerity of his second request, continues. Although here, the confidence that went with his justice-speak quickly evaporates. "A fine and kindly lady stands beside you, having served dutifully through all these long hours of requests. My lord," and he turns to Robert, "I would like to ask permission to court the Lady Seren de Woodford. My father I know will consent, and I hope her own shall as well. Of course I do not mean to interrupt the normal doing of things nor their proper and unhurried pace, but to witness her serving here, beside our wedded royal couple, I cannot hold back my request." He pauses, and then adds, "And to grant at least that you have time to confirm with her family and settle things in their proper course, I shall ask her, you-," and he turns slightly to look up, "My lady, to at least grant me your favor for the coming tourney, in the meantime, whatever else may come."

Doing all that she can to stop herself from fidgeting on the sidelines, with the High King and Queen's attention now focused on her brother, Lysanor's own eyes watch the faces of those around her, how enthralled they are to the couple. Of course, this was not an odd thing, for even she was nearly overwhelmed by just basking in their presence. And yet, she notices other things now, perhaps in the eyes of many of the men, or even the way the beautiful queen smiles. There is something which suddenly makes her feel uneasy, something which she does not fully understand.

However, hearing out her brother's requests, there is a warmth that drives away this sudden unease when her big ox of a brother requests for… permission to court Seren! The Auburn-haired maiden's smiles all the more brightly now, her gaze seeking out to make contact with Seren's own. She very well knows that this must be… a little awkward, especially for her shy and sweet friend, but Lysanor offers up her support from the distance nevertheless.

Seems Deryn picks a good time to return! The knight rejoins the others, if only to peek inside to see if her cousin and Aluksander had left or not. But hearing the words spoken from the front, she turns to watch the good Lady's reaction, and to see how her cousin will respond as well.

Huw does indeed spot Custennin as he stands, it's not really all that hard to, given the gap he'd been looking through is the one the giant knight created when he knelt. With his view so abruptly cut off he frowns in thought for a moment, then starts to inch back towards the door. If he finds a spot to watch from before he reaches it then great, if not, well, he can slip out again and get some fresh air and space before venturing back into the press once more. As luck would have it though he sees enough of the Falt's livery to give him pause, and he unlinks his hands, letting one drift to his scrip to feel the letter enclised therein. Now is not the time to deliver it, of that he is certain, but perhaps it is as good as any to request a later meeting to do so. It seems foolish to waste an oportunity and risk loosing the knight in the assembled crowds later on. Taking a steadying breath to fortify himself for the task of navigating the crowd he steps forward, slowly working his way towards the man and his companions.

Acwel checked his modest of 13, he rolled 4.

This does take Guenevere's attention for certain. She sits up, leans over a little towards the knight before them. "Sir Cyndeyrn, if it is love you seek, it is not truly ours to give. The permissions of her heart is not held by us." Arthur nods as his new wife speaks. The pennon will be handed down as he offers, "As my wife says. That permission does not rest with us. We cannot speak for her family or for her. A smuch as we would like to see you successful here, it is simply not our place." Though he turns to ask her for permission of the favor, and they nod, that is a step in the right direction in their minds. "We do wish you luck." Robert may call the next knight, Sir Seriol, as this event unfolds.

"We are friends, Sir Kamron," Acwel agrees with the man's statement, listening to his thoughts on having received Heulwen's favor. "With her favor, I do believe my blade will carry me far into the tournaments indeed." He smiles at the Dinton lady, "so perhaps you are right." Then, of course, Cyndeyrn speaks of his request, the pennant awarded by the Pendragon King himself, and then the second. Except the second is to request to court his sister, directly to Earl Robert. A prouder man might bristle at any permission going over his head, but he simply looks to Robert to see what he says.

And Cyndeyrn's request evidently meets with Kamron's approval, the big man's cousin tucking his gifted cord behind his belt a moment so that he can clap loudly in approval of the second request, so romantically made here before the High King's Court. Only then does he glance over to Acwel, wincing a little in sympathy as he recognizes the at-least-slight faux pas on his cousin's part.

Those words from Arthur heard by Robert, as if a suggestion to him, a reminder of this wedding. They married for love, no other reason other than their own intent to do so. He looks at Cyndeyrn, "You have my permission certainly, and it is up to the Woodford's if this is something to continue. Hopefully the lady shares a similar interest?" He is uncertain. She's his scribe, he never asks personal questions though. There is more he could say, but it is held after Arthur's words, such things as was a vassalage concerned and such, but there is nothing at steak in his interests to consider it elsewise. Where Arthur prepares for the next Knight, whom Robert will announces, "Ser Seriol de Bishopstone …" His eyes go like a few, if not more, to see how Seren may react ….

Poised with the writing instrument, Seren begins writing, though she suddenly looks back up when her own name is mentioned. At the realization of what he asked, a slow blush climbs into her cheeks but there is no denying the delight she attempts to hide from her features. Her gaze remains on him as he requests a favor and there is nothing she would rather do than to grant it. A kerchief, made by her own hand, with her name sewed into it is offered, a smile blossoming over her features, eyes alight with happiness at just being asked by him. "I would be honored," she says softly, the quill forgotten in the moment as she offers the favor to the Dinton. A quick glance is given over to her brother and then Lysanor, the latter her closest friend, and as she meets the gaze, she shares a warm smile with her before she turns her gaze back on Cyndeyrn.

Seriol advances forward and moves to kneel before the King and Queen, waiting as he is introduced. Both are considered for a moment before he begins to speak, "My congratulations to you both on this day. May this prove an auspicious day for both of you and for the kingdom, you shall be in my prayers." A pause then and he says, "So. On to the asking of things, like I suspect so many I have tried to think of a clever request and unlike the many I have heard here today I fear that I've failed in that ambition. Instead I'll simply request what I and those I am responsible for most need, something to bring warmth and full bellies this winter. Sheep, however many you deem fair and reasonable."

"No, my King, I know these are not gifts for you to give, but I am… not usually brave in the ways of love, for all that I fear not the sword or axe. So if it is not by your permission, it is by your example, your inspiration, that I speak. You have given me that gift as well, your Majesties." With that said, Cyndeyrn will rise and step off to the side, not to further hold up the business of an obviously busy and important King, though in doing so, he does not stray too far from the dais and looks first to Robert, who answers in an expected way, but then toward Seren, where he lacks as much certainty! But in her reply he finds it in himself to smile, if a little shyly still as well. Reaching to accept the cloth, he bows his head, not that it does mcuh to keep him from overshadowing her. "Thank you. I will… it will give me great strength, to carry this with me." And now he too finds himself glancing back, knowing that Acwel is out there somewhere, and perhaps realizing that he's gone out on a bit of a limb!

Custennin is once again grinning broadly as the little drama of the proposal to Seren unfolds - the expression clearly evident over the heads of those around him. He's also chuckling a little, though at least that won't carry nearly so far. Seren's acceptance earns the soon-to-be-couple a bow of approval from the huge knight, who straightens up to find Huw at his elbow, as Seriol delivers his woolly request. Peering down at the black robes, he offers a respectful inclination of his head. "Can I be of assistance?" In spite of his scarred and brutish looks, his voice is cultured - and pitched low, to avoid distracting others from royal proceedings.

Robert turns aside, to an aide lesser, some page or another in training, to keep scribing.
Arthur turns to Seriol and a shake of his head is given. "Sir Seriol to want food and warmth is no less clever and many may benefit from the fruit of this stock. It is a good request and shows you are thinking of what may come ahead of us." Guenevere nods agreement, and Arthur looks to Sir Kay, "Two score sheep shall be given to Sir Seriol de Bishopstone." A turn back to the knight, "I hope it provide all you seek now, and for years to come." Depending what he does with it, a nod is given, Seriol may visit with Sir Kay to settle that score and arrange delivery of said sheep. Robert awake enough to announce the next, "Sir Gideon de Stapleford…."

Deryn spies Acwel, and moves over to her cousin as she watches the going-ons with her cousin at Robert's side. Pausing, she murmurs, "Interesting.." That to Acwel, certainly. "Came back to check in to see if you were here still.."

Gideon straightens to his less than regal height, but his steps are solid, his breath even as he approaches the royal couple. Kneeling seems to be somewhat awkward so he settles into something of a hunters crouch. For all the jokes that might be said, Stapleford squats far better than back is bended. He looks up at the king and his bride from the posture, his eyes respectfully downcast. "My King, My Queen, blessings upon your nuptials. May your joint rule see greatness flow from your hand and justice and serenity for your subjects." The fractional shift in his arms almost gives the illusion of the serpents upon the arms of his tunics moving up the fabric. "My request is immortality for our houses both." A pause to let the words to pass his lips before he continues. "The exchange of legacies, My King. That the name of Stapleford knights fallen and yet to fall honorably be carved into the cornerstones of your castle. To be known among the steadiest and strongest of your vassals if not always the most glanced upon. Furthermore, if I am not so bold, when the inevitable but distant day comes that your last breath comes and your eyes close for the last time, that we be permitted the honor of sewing your burial shroud that you be sent to the Heavens in glory and splendor."

"My lady," Heulwen greets Laurwyn, and then turns her head to the side a bit at Kamron's words. Her own teply is a stifled laugh, covered at the last second by the back of her hand. Nevertheless, her eyes narrow to mere slots with mirth. "You must forgive my brother, Sir Acwel. He has quite the gentle nature at most times, but his protectiveness of his family is quite another story, indeed. I am sure you meant nothing untoward with your observation." She dips her head to the knight in question, and then to those who gather 'round the group. So many faces, some known and some not, and so little time to properly greet them all. At least not when her attention is divided between this group and the king's petitioners.

Once Cyndeyrn's presence before Arthur has passed, Lysanor steps in quickly to take her brother by the hand, giving it another gentle squeeze. "You were wonderful up there." She starts, her own heart now filled with romantic notions. "You may not always be so outspoken, but when you do speak, brother, you speak from the heart." Seren's own response elicits an elated gasp from the tiny red-head as she continues to lead her brother to join with the others. Though there is this odd moment, when she turns and looks back over her shoulder, her eyes on the queen as if being drawn there. Shaking her head, her mass of hair tossling about, she dismisses these unnerving, just as they approach her cousins in the company of the Woodfords. Lowering herself into a curtsy in greeting to the gathered, she must declare, "This has been quite an exciting day."

Arthur listens to the man speak. A nod is given as he ponders this. "I cannot offer the cornerstones, they are well in place as is my knowledge." Of something yet to come, "But I shall afford such a place near to the foundations of my home to be. We cannot reflect upon every ancestor, but what names we fit and what room we preserve shall be up to you. Sir Kay can assure we hold this account for you." A pause, "And you may sew the shroud that shall accompany. I cannot take this honor from those of my family the same, but I can assure you it shall go to rest with me, thanks for your family's service." A nod, Sir Kay start to write this down. Arthur turns to the next knight. Robert calls "Sir Aeron de Berwick St. James." Sir Kay looks up, maybe Bellona does too.

If the whole mass of people, and the weight of the occasion itself weren't enough of an intimidation for Huw, he now has the full attention of a noble a good foot taller than him. Ah. Erm. "My Lord," he starts, keeping his tone equally low so it shouldn't disturb others. "I have with me a letter, for the representatives of the manor at Falt." His eyes flick around those nearby for a moment, self-conciously almost, but they seem to be watching the King rather than him so he continues, although he does bow his head very slightly in deference. "I know that now is not the time to present it, there are events that should not be interupted so, but upon seeing your colours I thought it might be remiss were I not to make you aware of it now, lest I failed to find you again in the assembled ranks."

Aeron watches the requests that come before him, giving a curious look towards Gideon at his rather unusual request. When his name is called out, he steps forward kneeling down before the royal couple and bowing his head, "My King, my Queen." He says to the two newlyweds, "I would ask a gift of jewelry, a necklace that I may present to my wife when I am wed, and hand down to the wife of my son, when he weds, and his son, in perpetuity." He says, "Further, I would swear my allegiance, to the Pendragon name, as my father did before, and his father before him."

Almost but not quite as uncertain as the knight, Seren meets his gaze with a shy smile though she does meet his gaze, should he seek hers. Once he accepts the cloth, she offers a bow of her head, truly honored at his asking and accepting of the favor. "I wish you the greatest of luck in the tourney, Sir Cyndeyrn, and will be cheering you on from the sides." As she looks out for Lysanor, she notices the bow from the large knight and it makes her blush all the more. Finally, she finds Lysanor and gives a tentative smile but it is Acwel she is more wary of seeking.

The approval of the Earl's scribe to his cousin's request causes Kamron's grin to return, and the man looks over to the Woodford, "I'm sure he'll grovel appropriately when it is time for his suit to progress beyond simple courting, Sir Acwel." He shrugs off Heulwen's amused chastisement of him, wrinkling up his nose in a tiny little grin. And then his cousins are approaching, and he breaks into a soft little laugh, stepping up to give Cyndeyrn a bear-hug, so well as his much smaller stature allows, "You magnificent romantic, Deyr. I never knew you had it in you. Well played." And then he's stepping back to offer Lysanor a smile and a hand on her arm briefly in cousinly greeting, "You look lovely, Lysie." And then he pauses and looks back to his sister, "Which I should have told you as well, Wen, for it is just as true."

Gideon nods and raises to his feet. "As close to the foundation as is possible, then." He inclines his head. "Your Majesties." He then steps away, looking over his shoulder. "We need not all of it, for we are not greedy in such things. Even a few layers to ward you through your journey would do us far greater honor than we have known in generations." His shoulders rolling as his hand comes to rest on the sword so rarely used. Watching the accumulating throngs as he looks about him one more time before weaving amongst the throng of gossiping knights and ladies.

For now, Acwel is completely silent. He stares at Cyndeyrn when he approaches, offering a salute to the knight and a courtly greeting to Lysanor, the hand with the palm up to the redhead, and a kiss to her knuckles should she place her hand in his. Other than that, nothing is said, but he smiles at Heulwen's remark on Kamron's protectiveness, nodding once. Finally, when he speaks, he mentions, to the taller Dinton, "My father likely cannot consider your request because he lies buried in our family grave. I will, however, think on it."

Belatedly, Catryn walks over towards Cynrain after his own request. Curious of it, she searches his expression yet she says nothing as of yet. Instead, she stands at his side, perhaps putting on a show of solidarity with the Durnford Knight. While she remains silent, she watches the goings on with an arched brow.

A nod given of acceptance to Gideon's shroud and honor amongst the foundation. Then Sir Aeron arrives and asks something humble once more. "Sir Aeron it would be an honor to gift you a necklace. That it bring you love in whomever you marry." Guenevere again returns with some interest to the topic. "It is a pleasure you would ask us from such a gift Sir Aeron." Which settles her comments on the manor. He turns again to Sir Kay, and their are chests in the Great Hall, a squire is sent for this item. A necklace well kept most likely from Roman times even, good craftsmanship, not quite Damascus in the details, but not to far from Barbarian tradition either. Details plenty. Which is brought to wait for Sir Aeron near the are the officers gather near Sir Kay during the gift giving.

Aeron rolls 3d6 and gets (3 4 2) for a total of: (9)

Arthur continues, "And I accept your Loyalty Sir Aeron, so long as it does not cause grief to Earl Robert." He would still honor his vassals the same, respect to Earl Robert, but the loyalty accepted easily enough.

With a last lingering look and small smile back toward Seren, who still has all sorts of duties to attend (and strange requests to write down!), Cyndeyrn lets Lysanor lead him away and back toward the gathering of his family, rather than causing any further disruption. "Ah, thank you, Lys," he murmurs with all that same awkwardness that surrounded much of the day's efforts as she leads him along and compliments him on his efforts. In fact, on the walk back, he may look like he is a little in shock, not quite believing the things he has just done or said! Returning to Kamron and the others with her, and his cousin's approval, does not seem to make it any better! "It was… too much I fear," he will say, even to that congratulatory offer. He does look toward Acwel, and nods his head. "I know it will be your decision to make, and I hope you will judge me fairly, at least by the kindness I might show your sister and… any care she might return in kind."

As Catryn stands beside him, Cynrain ceases to be stiff as a statue. There is a slight relaxation there. While he may believe she is angry with him, her presence brought a visible ease to his posture. He lowers his head slightly, enjoying the calm while it lasts.

Lysanor is proud of her brother, even though she knows that the permission he seeks should come from Acwel, himself. So as they join the merry group, the Dinton red-head's hand is gracefully taken as she smiles politely to the Woodford, hoping that this has not raised any ire within him. "Sir Acwel, It's a pleasure to see you here. Though it looks as if all of Salisbury and beyond have shown up." She then greets both of her cousins with a warming smile as well, though of course she quiets to allow the men to speak, namely Acwel and Cyndeyrn! On Seren's approach, she does reach out a comforting hand to the young scribe, that brilliant smile on her face once more. "Wasn't it exciting?" And she doesn't mean just of her brother's proposal of sorts.

Custennin smiles down at Huw, though the gesture might not have the reassuring and welcoming effect intended. "Sir Custennin de Falt," he rumbles to the priest. "Newly enfeoffed with the manor. So you have found the representative indeed. If there is any urgency, then I can attend to matters now. Or we could talk once the Salisbury contingent withdraw from the royal presence to make way for other counties?"

Deryn glances around, sees Aluksander has left, and with a brief word to her cousin, will step back and take her leave of the crowded place.

Martyn smiles as he listens to all that's said, shaking his head as he turns to look around the room once more. Starting to move around a bit, so he can see what people he knows among those present.

Huw relaxes a fraction at that, he'd been fairly certain he'd got the hereldry right, but it's aways nice to have it confirmed. "Brother Huw, of the Black Abey at Sarum," he offers, to complete the introductions, the title brother point him out as someone not ordained into the priesthood. "Thank you, Sir, but there is nothing so urgent that it can not wait until a more conducive time. I merely wished, if you'll pardon the intrusion, to ensure you were aware of it, and did not plan to depart or otherwise become scarce before I could deliver it and you assess it's contents."

Kamron is not here to make things better/, he's here to make things more awesome. "No, absolutely not, Deyr." And then he moderates his enthusiasm, chuckling over to Acwel, "Well, perhaps just a //touch too much. But very romantically done." He looks about, spotting the Burcombe and tightening his lips to screw up his sense of justice. Nodding to his family and Acwel, he adds, "If you'll excuse me, there is something I should do." And he turns his pace toward where Catryn and Cynrain are standing in silence, offering them both a bow of his head as he approaches, "Sir Catryn." He doesn't necessarily know the other man, holding out his hand to be clasped first to the lady knight, and then — whether accepted or scorned — to the male one, "I wanted to say, your request was most nobly made, Sir. A flattering and leal gift to ask."

The reaction from Cynrain was curious but Catryn doesn't address it at the moment. Instead she remains as silent as he does. As the Dinton knight approaches, she clasps arms with him, "Sir Kamron, this is Sir Cynrain de Durnford. Sir Cynrain, this is Sir Kamron de Dinton." Inclining her head, she offers a half smile, uncertain whether he was addressing her, but she takes it that way. "Thank you, as was yours a romantic gesture. It seems the lot of us are sentimental."

With the king and queen and Earl Robert taking a break for the day, Seren does the same, watching as Cyndeyrn leaves before she collects the parchment and other tools of her trade, before approaching Lysanor. A warm smile is given to the other lady, accepting the comforting hand. "I am awed by the requests, my lady." Though surely she means mostly one of them.

"Do you have a warm corner in which to sleep? The city is rather crowded at present," Custennin says to Huw. "It is no palace, but my family has secured a house in the city, and we could find you a nook and offer hospitality. And I look forward to satisfying my curiosity regarding your errand… though it does, sadly, look as if our time here might be drawing to a close."

Cyndeyrn did likely not anticipate that Arthur would be so soon done, and so there - here - Seren is again, so soon as he's managed to retreat with some of his dignity intact. But, maybe with the magic of the royal moment having passed, he resumes something of his usual manner, and while obviously he will not pretend at not having done what he just did, he will not dwell upon it unecessarily, and chooses to take (or at least answer) Seren's words in the broader, less personal of possible meanings. "It was all more grand than I could have imagined, and the gifts … varied in the asking and generous in the giving, as one would expect of such a man. And it was, ah, dilligent of you to stand and record them all. An important service."

"I do not no," Huw confesses easilly enough, "I had hoped to find lodging with those of my calling, but am not long from the road and have no yet sought them out." The chance to see the King had won out there apparently. "So I thank you Sir, your offer is most kind" and convenient, "and I accept it gladly." Letting his hands link in his sleves once more he inclines his head ever so slightly at the word 'errand' offering a short, "when your lordship has the time," before settling to wait for direction as to where to find said house.

There is so much that Lysanor would like to say, about the requests and the gifts granted… and about the lovely Guinever. For the briefest of moments does her brow furrow before softening once more, her cheeks aglow again. "Goodness yes, our good King was ever so generous. Why, just being here in the presence of King Arthur and his new Queen, you could feel it. How energized everyone became, how inspired." To Seren, she speaks with light laughter in her tone, "I do not know how you can do it. Working so closely with… And you are always so organized, doing such a wonderful job." It is both shocking and exciting all the same, just standing here with both her brother and best friend now, after such an announcement was made.

Custennin nods warmly to Huw, then looks back to the thrones… rather mournfully taking a last look before very reluctantly allowing himself to be drawn away by duty. And the need to let more supplicants in to see the royal couple. "If you would care to accompany me now, Brother Huw, I could take you there immediately. I suspect that my family are more than a little eager to hear of what has been seen and said here."

It is with relief more than anything, that Seren accepts the more impersonal greeting and she is able to slip back into her own usual demeanor. "They were each and every one well thought out. I admire the tenacity of some," she looks towards her brother with a smile, "And the creativity of others." His reference to her own brings another blush, but she does not demure from responding. "I truly enjoy what I do, it is something I have always wanted to do. The written word can be magical." The compliment from Lysanor is met with a soft laugh, "Thank you, my lady. I admit I was rather awed by both the king and the queen." There is a bit of hero worship at the mention of the Queen. "She is even lovelier than I could ever have imagined."

If offered a hand in respect, Cynrain would have accepted it, clasping at the wrist. He nods to Kamron, "It is a pleasure to meet you." he says quietly before looking back to Catryn, "With this coming to close, I shall go and find lodging.. wherever that may be. Your request today was one that I respect and admire more than you may ever know." He nods to her and says, "I'll take my leave and hope that the future days will be those that will display me in a different light to you, Sir Catryn." he takes her hand but does not lift it. He wouldn't presume to insult her as a Knight.

Amalthea slips in near the end, alas, because someone had to care for the horses. Over the din and the clusters, the stablemaster searches out her family, the only perk to her height being that she has a better vantage point. She leaves the light scent of hay in her wake, but at least no mud, having changed out of her stable boots and into clean, serviceable slippers.

Kamron clasps each knight's forearm in turn, his left hand touching the cord folded over itself and tucked behind his belt almost of its own accord when Catryn compliments it, nodding to the other knight, "Sir Cynrain, a pleasure, I'm sure." Looking between the two, he offers up a slight smile, "Congratulations as well on your betrothal. And a most interesting request you had, Sir. I have a feeling there is a most interesting story behind it. But we'll have to save that for another time. Good day, Sir Cynrain." Looking back to Catryn as the Durnford disappears, he adds, "A match of political convenience then, Sir Catryn?"

Perhaps Caerwyn has always been there. Or perhaps the Black Burcombe jusr recently arrived, arms folded over his chest, shadowed in the alcoves of Carlion Great Hall, before emerging from his roost with an amused smile. Sinister? Yes. But sinister never dressed so well. Black tunic with silver-stitched embroidery and a sleek silver belt that tucks around his waist attractively, the handsome knight seems to have missed the High King and Queen. What he didn't miss was the hubbub about gifts. He glances about the hall and lifts his voice: "It is nice to see the Jewel of Woodford see appreciation beyond the borders of Salisbury," he notes graciously towards Seren in announcement. What more, he looks like he's tempted to say, but he wavers a little bit and heads towards his sister instead. "I travel as fast and far as I could. Did I miss the

Caerwyn checked his prudent of 10, he rolled 8.

"It is impressive that you manage them. I… all those intricate little symbols always looked tricky to me, and I think I would have trouble making such delicate marks," Cyndeyrn admits, offering a little more, if not traditionally romanatic praise of Seren's /handwriting/. "Your brother's request was a fine one, perhaps one of the most practical and forward-thinking of the day, beside the fellow that received a herd of sheep. He can be sure his people will not want for clothing for a long time, I think, and will have ample backup should ever a bad winter threaten the foodstores." He actually sounds very impressed with the sheep!

Acwel checked his prudent of 10, he rolled 14.
Acwel checked his reckless of 10, he rolled 13.

"I will put those things into consideration, Sir Cyndeyrn, but I think I will try and enjoy the festivities before I make a decision either way." Probably a decision one can only do while buzzed, anyway. "But very nice choice in gifts, the pennor," Acwel admits. Seren's compliment of his request's creativity earns her a smile from her brother. "Dear sister, I'd like to have a word later, if your duties allow," he lets her know, before turning to Heulwen, "Would you like to walk with me?" The offer is made. There is a very suspicious glance given to Caerwyn as he speaks of his sister. Then, out of impulse, he simply tells Cyndeyrn, "Do keep my sister out of trouble, yes?"

With a slightly hooded expression, Catryn watches the exchange between Kamron and Cynrain, only to give a nod towards Cynrain once he dismisses himself. "Thank you, the tents at the tournament field are likely where we'll be making camp for the duration of this week and the next." Her hand is given freely to Cynrain, but her eyes settle on Kamron. "Thank you, Sir Kamron, we were surprised by it and have deigned to make the best of it." The slight smile is returned, "A match of political convenience it is, Sir Kamron, I had expected one to be issued and I gladly accept." There is no vitriol behind her words, they are given in an almost good natured manner. Betrothal making her soft?

When Caerwyn approaches, Catryn smirks in response, "The king and queen are retired for now, but you will get your chance, brother. You've missed nothing."

"Perhaps, I should be taking lessons from you." Lysanor says, her voice still ringing with the excitement of the moment as she speaks to Seren. "My own penmenship is nowhere near as lovely and intricate as yours." Rather than leaving her brother and Seren along in what could be their own awkwardness, the Dinton with the flaming red hair remains close at hand, still holding onto that of the Jewel of Woodford's. Caerwyn's entrance, of course gathers some attention, though there is some wariness in her eyes, having remembered a moment not so long ago, in a tavern in Sarum. However, when she notices the Burcombe, this is when she spots her cousin as well, "Amalthea," One of her hands finally releases Seren's when she waves the other girl over." It is when Acwel requests her cousin, Heulwen's company that she then turns to her other cousin, to gauge the her reaction.

Still making his way around a bit, Martyn smiles as he spots Amalthea. "Late for the festivities?" he offers to her, rather quietly, along with a smile. He still glances around at the various people present, then back to Amalthea.

Kamron is suddenly beset by Burcombes, with Catryn only an inch shorter than him and Caerwyn towering half a foot over his head, but he merely turns to face both twins at once, evidently on his best behavior even if his smile is now a little tight. "It does seem to be our fate, does it not, Sir Catryn? I have been hoping to avoid it myself simply by being insignificant." And then he turns his attention back to her brother, offering out his hand with a little less readiness than he did for the Lady Knight, "I heard you escorted my sister home after a run-in with… a caltrop? I should thank you for seeing to her safety and security, Sir Caerwyn."

"Tending to the horses," Amalthea tells Martyn once he has her attention, her laugh light, her smile easy and free. "Sir Martyn. A more pleasant surprise I have almost never had," she quips, teeth flashing merrily. "I have only now finished my duties thanks to a finicky destrier in the stall next to ours." There's a rueful shrug. "I have missed the King and Queen, but hopefully I might find my cousins instea-" The words are scarce out of her pert mouth when her golden-dark eyes land on Lysanor. "Instead. There is one now. You remember Lady Lysanor?" She lifts her work-roughened hand in return to Lysanor's greeting.

Cyndeyrn does cast a glance between Heulwen and Acwel when the latter offers to take the former out walking, and then, blinking once or twice after the remark that follows, answers readily, "Of course. I shall make sure Lady Seren is in good care, as I trust you would do for my cousin in turn." The larger of the Dintons looks curiously to Lysanor then, only to be distracted as she calls another of their little clan over, and he too turns to spot Amalthea. "It seems nearly the whole lot of us are here."

Heulwen is abandoned by all and sundry as they split off into their separate groups to converse. She makes as if to follow Kamron, but holds back when she realizes where is headed - or at least to whom. Perhaps it would not do for his sister to interrupt, in any case. So, she does what any girl would do in her situation: she latches on to her pretty cousin. Sidling up beside Lysanor, Wen is silent as the others converse, although she does attempt to catch Cyndeyrn's eye long enough to offer him a warm smile. "I wanted to say—oh, hmm?" Before she can finish her thought, however, she half-turns toward Acwel and his offered hand. "Oh, well," she murmurs, stalling a bit and fighting back a slight blush. She carefully avoids Lysanor's gaze as she slowly reaches out to accept his hand. "I suppose I could do with some fresh air, Sir Acwel. How kind of you to ask me."

Seren cannot help but to smile when Cyndeyrn speaks about the symbols of the words in handwriting. There is even a bob of her hed in agreement, "It took time to learn, though I think wielding a sword and a lance and a shield would be much more difficult and honorable skills to learn. I watched you on the Exeter mission and your bravery as well as the others we traveled with, was impressive." Another look is given to her brother and she agrees, "It was a fine request, I think Woodford is a good place for a tower." As she is approached by the Burcombe, she gives a polite dip of her head, though he moves off and she focuses on those around her. "I will be in the tend shortly, I need to reread the notes and ensure the Earl gets them." The suggestion from Lysanor is agreed immediately, "Oh I would adore teaching you, my lady!" Clearly more at ease with her, she is grateful for her presence.

"Who am I to argue fate, Sir Kamron?" Catryn counters with that half smile she gives. "I look forward to the challenge though." And she does. With him greeting her brother, she lofts a brow, a casual look between them. "Oh is there something I've not heard about?" Her interest piqued, she only looks away long enough to watch Cynrain leave before turning a look back to the others.

"Everything and nothing at once," Caerwyn retorts sadly, "That is the gist of life. Do I ask for a herd of sheep to clothe and feed my people? Pigs and chickens? It's certainly a very noble if rather pedestrian request. How is it that the most noble requests are the most pedestrian?" This is spoken not so much for his twin's benefit but for some ethereal other reason. When Kamron addresses him, Caereyn instinctively turns to look at Heulwen - possibly departing the premises with a stranger from a strange manor? - before addressing him. "I did. The nights cast long shadows and the ruffians who prowl the roads are many. Her horse stepped upon a metal prong of some sort. I was glad to offer shelter and safe passage. Kamron de Dinton, hear this: I would not ask for anything less than peace between our houses. We are neighbors and our liege is the same. We may answer to different gods, but the gods do not make amends for us terrestrial souls. We must do the work of gods - mend bonds and build bridges. But sometimes I know not where to start." Another glance towards Heulwen - did she not acquiesce? - and then Caerwyn looks at his sister and Kamron. "I believe I need a breath of fresh air. I will find lodgings for myself and mind. I trust Sir Cynrain and you will lodge together?"

Martyn chuckles as he hears that. "Always taking care of business, hmmm?" he offers, before he smiles, "I must say these are far better circumstances than back during the storm." A brief pause, as he looks over towards Lysanor as well. "Of course I remember Lady Lysanor," he offers, lowering his words a little as he offers a chuckle. "See, I haven't been hit in the head yet." Spoken quite lightly.

Kamron inclines his head at Catryn's question, "Fate bringing us a challenge to overcome is all that we can hope for, is it not?" He waves off the concern from the Lady Knight with a conciliatory gesture, "Both maid and squire were present, there was, I'm sure, no improprieties." And with that, he turns his blue-gray gaze up to the taller twin, a hint of challenge there as well. The man's words pull another tight smile to his lips, "I am entirely in favor of polite relations between all of the manors of Salisbury — and indeed, of Logres entire — but I must note that friendship and polite relations must be extended to all manors before they can be extended to any manor. But still, a noble sentiment, Sir." And he bows his head as Caerwyn excuses himself.

"It is kind of you to accept keeping me company," Acwel replies, taking Heulwen's hand within his own, offering a courteous nod of his head to Seren, Cyndeyrn and Lysanor with a faint smile as he turns to the Lady who now accompanies him, "Tell me, what do you think of mystery knights? As in, those who do not show their identities in tourneys and such," he wonders, just as he starts to lead them out of the area. "In tourneys such as to celebrate these nuptials, I would think you'd see a lot more of them around, at the proper festivities. I find it odd that none have yet made their appearances," he comments on the way out.

Lysanor is now latched onto both Heulwen and Seren, having a hand on one and her arm latched onto by the other where she finds herself right there in the center. "It looks as if Kamron is performing some act of diplomacy of his own." She's uncerntain as to what the conversation may be about, but she does cast a glance in her cousin's direction where he is now flanked by a pair of Burcombes. Those bright blue eyes flicker in Heulwen's direction and while she may note the flush of her color which burns gently at her her cousin's fair cheeks, she says nothing of it. Nor does she make any mention of it Acwel even as she expects Wen to slowly release her arm. When she is about to turn her gaze back to the fair Seren once more, she catches sight of Amalthea's wave, then noting that a familiar face is present with her. Though she does not call out them across the way, she graces them with a warm and friendly smile perhaps to beckon them closer so that both groups may merge. To Seren, she nods her head quickly, "I shall look forward to these lessons. I am hoping to make some time to venture to Sarum more often."

Rarely one to revel overly in praise, Cyndeyrn answers evenly, "Knights and ladies are both taught many things but I do not think their respective tasks more or less honorable. Obviously, the Earl values your service very highly, and he has, after all, few scribes and many, many knights." There is a distinct look if dissapointment shortly after, where Seren reveals she has yet further written work to do, or at least compile as might be necessary, but he offers, maybe a little abruptly as he adjusts to this idea of quasi-open intereaction, "Ah, if you are headed back toward the encampments, may I at least escort you along your way? The grounds here are… very busy, after all." But probably far from dangerous, fir Arthur's knights about! Still, this is what he's supposed to do, right? Walk her places?

"Only because you've not run across me when I'm not paying attention. Then, your head might not fare so well," Amalthea teases Martin lightly, the flush still rising to her cheeks from some inside joke. "Would you care to join me, Sir Martyn? Crowds set me not at ease overmuch, and I would feel more comfort in the company of my kinsmen and women, as well as your esteemed presence." She gestures a hand in the direction of Lysanor and company once more, though is at least polite enough to wait upon Martyn's answer before turning her stride that way.

Heulwen reluctantly parts company with her cousins, lifting her hand out of Acwel's grasp if only to rest it lightly on his forearm instead as he leads her out and away from the gathering. "Mystery knights?" she inquires thoughtfully, tilting her head and looking somewhere off to the left as if considering the question rather intently. "I think that the concept should not be overdone lest it lose its luster, but a mystery knight at a tournament celebrating the King's marriage—well, that is quite the appropriate setting. A mystery knight is rather romantic if you think about it, and thus it is most fitting. Perhaps we will only witness it at the events themselves; maybe said mystery knight has taken to being very mysterious."

"No improprieties whatsoever," Caerwyn assures Kamron absentmindedly before stalking off towards the kitchens and servant exit. How his features twist so prettily into a stormy rage! Though some of Arthur's serving lasses stalk the Burcombe with their eyes (his reputation is far-reaching), he seems to see fit neither to drink excessively or find companionship with any one willing. Instead, for the rest of the night, the Black Burcombe is nowhere to be found, despite the plenitude of drink, gaming and food, all of which would usually draw the man out.

"I trust we will not be lodging together." Catryn counters vehemently. "I will be staying with my own family. My sister and my cousins, after all we are not wed quiet yet." The idea being to take as long as possible before that happens. Of course the offer from Caerwyn to Kamron brings an incredulous look but she doesn't dare contradict it. A nod is given to Kamron as he excuses himself. "Good day to you, Sir Kamron."

While Acwel leaves, Seren watches him and bids him a farewell. It is brief before Lysanor draws her attention and she laughs, "I could imagine us staying up late and studying letters together. It would be fun." Following her line of sight, she nods a greeting to Amalthea as well, though she is not someone entirely familiar to her more than by features and name. Looking back to Cyndeyrn, she acquiesces, "I agree, both have their importance. I do so adore working for the Earl, I learn a good many things." His offer to escort her is met with a wide eyed look before she recovers and dips her head, "Thank you, Sir Cyndeyrn, that would be.." For once, the scribe is at a loss for words before she hurriedly inputs, "I would like that."

"I assure you that I have a very solid skull, Lady Amalthea," Martyn offers, with a smile. Hearing the rest, he offers her another smile, "Esteemed presence? How could I say no to a request including those words? Of course I would like to join you. Lead the way." A smile and nod is offered to Lysanor in return as well.

Kamron inclines his head once more to Catryn, frowning after Caerwyn for a moment before he shrugs and turns back to his family… who are starting to break up from their large cluster already. Still, he turns his stride back toward where Lysanor stands bidding adieu to Cyndeyrn and Seren, and where Amalthea is approaching as well. He offers the horsemistress a smile as they approach the splintering group, "Thea. Good to see that you made it in. I believe Their Majesties are taking a short break for now."

Morag makes her way into the gathering. Roaman would never allow his daughter to show up in the king's court in worn clothing. Maybe not near as much as he'd grant to make sure Catryn looks her finest, but most certainly respectable. And it only takes her a few moments to make her way to Catryn's side, the family resemblance immediately evident. "I missed Caerwyn, didn't I." she notes ruefully to Cat by way of greeting. "I thought I saw him in the throng moving outward." She looks around, taking in the color.

The excitement of laying eyes on King Arthur himself and his beautiful bride and the pagenatry which goes along with such a grand event is what keeps Lysanor so close to her brother, but in actuality, it is Seren whom she wishes to continue to chat with. Now that Heulwen is absent, there would be no one to speak to about anything. Though, at some point, she does come to realize that she very well may be that extra company which her brother is in no need of at the moment, perhaps finding his voice and courage finally in the name of love! So she releases Seren's hand, gently patting at the Woodford's arm as she is whisked away by her brother. How exciting. So it is to some relief when Kamron finally decides to return just as Amalthea and Martyn join her as well and it is to Martyn whom she lowers herself into a curtsy for. "Sir Martyn, I'm glad to see that the weather has been lovely for these past few days. Unlike the last time we had met." Then, "Almathea. When did you arrive? I hope you didn't miss much, for there were wonderful things being requested and given. It was all so very lovely."

While the brief pause Seren takes in summoning the words to answer gives him a momentary fright, securing the Lady's ultimate agreement is obviously all that is further required to make Cyndeyrn's day here in King Arthur's court. Even if it is but for a short stroll back to the tournament campgrounds! He smiles more than he normally does, and might seem ready to rush off then and there. Yet with Lysanor hanging on Seren's other side, he does glance over to his sister even as she seems to realize it is time to extricate herself. So while a brief question hovers on his lips, no doubt about whether she will be alright there on her own, she is already in another conversation, and, he quickly realizes, surrounded by enough cousins and other family to see to her. And so… that just leaves the two of them. "Ah well, them, my lady, shall we?"

"I am well-pleased to hear it," Amalthea returns to Martyn convivially as they join her family, running a collision course with Kamron and Lysanor. To the duo, she grumps good-naturedly, "All of it. I missed the whole lot. I was stabling the horses properly, you know I cannot trust others to see to them, and there was a destrier, fiery and black he was, and he was rearing something awful, and it unsettled ours and…" she trails off, out of breath, with a pleasantly abashed shrug that says 'that's just the way it is when one is a control freak'. "But I've brought Sir Martyn, here, and all is right with the world. Sir Martyn, have you met my cousin Sir Kamron? Kam, Sir Martyn was stuck in that storm that passed through Dinton and we made him welcome at the stables."

"I don't know, Morag," Catryn supplies thoughtfully. "Can anyone actually miss Caerwyn? If he is around, he is boisterous enough to ensure that he isn't missed. When he's not around, one breathes a sigh of relief instead of pining." Surely she's joking about her twin if the amusement stamped so clearly on her visage is any indication. "He was here, he made his splash and sashayed out again in the famous Caerwyn way." Glancing over her sisters clothing, she nods her approval, "You look as pretty as ever."

Equally, Seren seemed glad to be talking to Lysanor, but there was the matter of finishing her work to do. A soft squeeze of her friends hand, "I will see you again tomorrow, I hope? I am glad to have gotten to spend a bit of time with you, my lady." Martyn is a familiar face and she gives him a warm smile, "Sir Martyn," and another polite greeting to Amalthea, "My lady." And Kamron of course, "Sir Kamron, good to make your acquaintance this day." Laughter plays in her expression over the ongoing joke. With Cyndeyrn escorting her, she hesitates no longer. "We shall." A tentative smile given as she clasps her basket with one hand, slipping it over her arm. Looking towards the way out, she laughs, "We should dart between them, I think, if we would not look like fools doing so, but something tells me you would more make a path upon our departure." His mere presence at that. And so, she will lead where he follows.

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