(514-06-20) Lull in Battle Proposal?
Summary: Aluksander catches up to Acwel to talk about Deryn's injuries on the recent mission, finds out about Aeryn's death earlier, and then fumbles a possible proposal?
Date: June 20, 514
Related: Trouble in Sarum 1 - After Part 1 and before Part 2
acwel aluksander deryn 

It is the warfront, just west of Sarum. Acwel stands, bandaged and somewhat wounded, but still in his armor, and keeping watch over a tent for a reason or another. The Knight of Woodford's pure white horse Saint is idle nearby, tended to by the vassal knight's squire. It appears that the Woodford is worried about something, because his expression is concerned.

The gallop of hooves can be heard from afar off, and surely there is little question to whom they belong. Within minutes, Aluksander can be seen, riding for all he's worth, towards the edge of Sarum, fully-armored, shield girded, though his hair has been left loose to fly in the wind. He barely slows enough for a nearby squire to grab the reigns before he dismounts and comes rushing in Acwel's direction. "For God's sake, man! If she dies, you will answer for it!" he shouts as he approaches, brow knit with a good deal of anger mixed with an even greater amount of concern.

"Don't be so dramatic, Sir Aluksander," Acwel replies with a faint smirk, "She is a Woodford, she can more than handle it. If you had seen her skewer the Saxon the way she did, you would know what I am talking about," he promises, lifting a mailed glove to Aluksander. "I don't know where she is, however. At any rate, I am apologizing to all the dear ones of the Marlboro embassy. I should say she is doing fine, won't even leave a scar."

Aluksander stops up short when Acwel explains that she's not even there. He blinks a few times, and then his brow knits again and he looks about, before pointing at the tent accusingly. "Then who is there? Why is she not under care? And why are you not looking /after/ her? She's been hurt!" he asks. Obviously, the man isn't actually mad at Acwel, although he most certainly appears to be trying to make it /look/ that way. Probably not the main force behind the blustering, though.

"Sir Perin is there, with the body of Sir Aeryn, who died today at the western gates of Sarum," Acwel replies, glancing over his shoulder. "She is not under care because she is hale and healthy and has been reassigned. We saw to a healer as soon as we got to another manor." To hear the Woodford say it, it is as though there is an overwhelming sense of calm about anything. "I am not looking after her because she is a knight and a grown woman. I will not disrespect her spurs by pampering her, Sir." He gestures for his squire, who gives him a wineskin. He uncaps it, drinks, then offers it to the Pitton knight. "Have a sip. Likely our stocks will be very limited as these Saxons raid and pillage our lands."

And that floors Aluksander. His jaw slackens and drops open slightly, and after a moment, his palm is pressed to his forehead. "Sir /Aeryn/ has been …," he trails off. He takes a few steps closer, then, staring at the tent. "Of all the knights … and just this past winter … she'd proven herself so well! To face Jaradan? And to be laid low by a /Saxon/!?" Aluksander's teeth grit. "Blast!" he exclaims, punching his fist into his palm and turning around. He is /obviously/ incensed, and unfortunately, the best explatives and pejoratives won't be invented for several more centuries. Their 'father smells of elderberries' just doesn't seem to do his rage justice at the moment.

Arriving to her cousin's tent, Deryn soon clears her throat, peering around the edge of the tent as she hears the voices. Yet there's a note of surprise upon her face when she recognizes that of Aluksader, his anger to draw a frown to her face, "Cousin?" Slightly confused is she, no doubt, not having heard the news, and not understanding what might have the Pitton upset just yet. She was in the back of the line, and reports of the wounded haven't made the rounds yet, much less those dead.

"Yes, she died. I was there." Acwel replies, his tone without any humor as he retells that. "I was at their wedding," he adds, as though that is relevant for anything, except perhaps a mild case of survivor's guilt. But he did survive, so perhaps he ought not to feel any guilt whatsoever. When Deryn arrives, he smiles, gesturing for her to join them. "Your … almost-betrothed here was telling me that I am a monster for letting you be in harm's way. Perhaps you can tell him that you were not that hurt?"

When Deryn arrives, Aluk looks up at her and immediately takes several steps towards her, until Acwel teases him. He turns back to shoot a nasty glance back at Acwel, noting, "Not that hurt is more than hurt enough, Sir Acwel." He then turns his attention back to a cursory examination of Deryn, assuring for himself that all of her limbs are intact and accounted for. He then sighs and frowns, shaking his head as he turns and runs his hands into his hair. "I … I know that people die in battle, Sir Acwel. But, Sir Aeryn is the closest I've had to a friend, and to have her cut down by a Saxon after she'd been showing so much promise …. I just …. She beat /me/. /TWICE/. How could she fall to a /Saxon/?" he asks again, as if an answer might appease the hurt in some way.

"Who…?" Deryn begins to ask, but doesn't finish the question, knowing that there have been many to have fallen this day, and for some, tomorrow, from their injuries. Standing before Aluksander, she doesn't seem injured, though when she moves, it's with a straight back. There is a line of repaired mail across her back as well, her squire having put in some extra time with the blacksmith back at the Count's castle getting it fixed before they left. "I am far better off than Sir Catryn." She won't deny being hurt, but hey.. she's walking, talking and breathing still! It's not till Aluksander speaks again that she learns just who they are discussion, a look of surprise to show, no doubt emotions within much like those he gies voice too. "Life is eternal and love is immortal; And death is only a horizon, And a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight… prayers will be spoken for her, her family both old and new.."

"Sir Aeryn," Acwel replies to Deryn, wandering over to give her a hug before he tells Aluksander, "Well, now she is here, next to you. And obviously she is a bit fatalistic as she retells her version of the afterlife," he grins at Deryn, but more seriously to the Pitton man, "We were fighting truly fearsome Saxons. You would not understand if you weren't there. These are not easy targets," at all. "And I must go," he tells them. "Take care of yourself, Deryn."

Aluksander nods to Acwel, though he does move to place a hand on Acwel's shoulder before he leaves again. "If they be such challenging foes, then I wish you all the luck that I left in Sarum before the wedding. And I will pray for you, on the front lines. Go with God, sir, and a pox be upon the Saxons." He then sighs and looks back to Deryn, holding out his arms towards her. "I'm sorry to have worried over you so much; I know you are a knight, but … the thought of you being harmed had set me beside myself. I shall try to remember better, the next time I hear you have been wounded in battle."

"We fight our enemies. It is war.." Deryn states simply before giving her cousin a dip of her head, "May we meet soon, and share a glass of ale again, cousin. Be well and safe." She'll watch him take his leave before turning to Aluksander, and once he holds his arms out to her, she will step into them briefly to offer him a hug as much as one might while wearing armor, still holding her back stiffly. "I am sore, but I survived. And I am better now than the second battle we fought for the Count.." She didn't do half bad then! "But I understand your worry… I worry for you as well out there." Such sweet words offered quietly to the other knight, her almost-betrothed. Aww.

"We will drink together," Acwel promises, "I am not done until the Saxons are gone from our land," he promises the two, heading out.

There's a slight frown at Deryn's words about the war, but Aluksander nods. He sighs when Deryn admits that she worries about him, wrapping his other arm around her armor-clad body. There's several clinks and scraping sounds as he pulls her against him, but Aluksander doesn't appear to mind or even notice the noise as his other hand reaches up to very fondly stroke Deryn's cheek and touch her hair … since he really can't put his fingers into it very well in a gauntlet. "When this battle is over, my love, we shall have to have a discussion. I do not think, after having death brought so close to our lives, I could live much longer without you as my wife."

Deryn check your reckless at 4, you rolled 12.
Deryn check your prudent at 16, you rolled 6.

Sure, there may be some odd looks given to the two by other knights, but none will say much, not after the losses already dealt to them earlier outside the city. She turns her head, to half nuzzle her cheek against the gauntlet over his hand, "A talk, yes…" But color her surprise at the words that follow, eyes widening slightly as she stammers, taking the moment to actually think of her words. "You… wish us to marry? Truly?" A pause, and then she asks, voice rising a little, "Is this a marriage proposal??" Talk about your timing!

Aluksander smiles happily for a second, until Deryn asks her second question, at which point his eyes get wide and he straightens (and sobers) up a little! "What? No! No, it is … no," he says, shaking his head and grimacing. Poor, stupid Aluksander. He really /does/ suck at the whole romance thing, obviously. He sighs and considers his next words very carefully for a moment. "It is me saying that I feel we have been courting long enough. Once this battle is over, we should earnestly seek an end to it, one way or another. If my feelings on the matter were not already plain, then I have no business courting at all," he says, searching Deryn's eyes for a moment.

Deryn check your honest at 13, you rolled 12.

Deryn seems confused, and so speaks plainly, "What other end, besides going our separate ways, is there to courting besides marriage though?" Isn't that the next logical step if you are going forwards with things? She shakes her head then, stepping closer to continue, "If the worry I feel over you, and that you seem to feel over me, does not speak plainly of how we feel for one another… " That's a lot of feeling going on there..

Aluksander nods. "Right. On both counts," Aluksander tells her, smiling. "Which is why we need some earnest discussion. But, we are at battle, Sir Deryn. And it would not behoove either of us to try and have such a discussion, nay, even to /worry/ over such a discussion at the moment. Our focus must be fixed on the Saxons, our feelings spent up in our hatred of their treachery, and our swords ready to avenge Sir Aeryn and our comrades who accompany her into our Lord's care. So, until this battle be over, know that you carry with you all of my love and concern, and know that I have found you a more than worthy companion and quite desirable to have as a wife."

Cue the blush to bloom upon her cheeks, though her smile is bright and warm as she lifts her gaze to meet his, "As you carry the same of mine, Aluksander. We still have much to discuss, later." And by the way she speaks, she fully intends there to be a 'later' for the both of them to have that talk! "You still carry my mother's ring, yes?" She asks of him softly before adding, "I would like something of yours? Even if it is but your handkerchief.. " Something to carry while dealing with her duties.

Aluksander blinks several times, and then smiles as he forces his gauntlet into the neck of his mail for a moment, hooking a leather thong under his thumb and lifting it as evidence. "It has not left my person since it arrived," he announces, smiling. He then thinks for a moment as to what he could possibly give /her/ to carry- his family has no heirlooms, he hasn't really got any personal affectations to share …. His brow furrows for a moment while he thinks, and then he clicks his tongue and shrugs. "I'm sorry, love. I have aught to give you, but …," and then an idea strikes him and he gathers up his unbound hair into his hands. He pulls it into a tail and then pulls it forward, reaching for a dagger at his hilt. "A lock of hair, then? Until I can provide better? You may take any length you desire, even if you would have me bald," he offers.

To his suggestion, Deryn begins to refuse, but in the end, she accepts his dagger. "A small lock…" She'll cut free a section near his scalp, soon to braid the length tightly. Calling to her squire who fetches their sewing kit, the braid is coiled and looped in such a way, that she makes a 'pendent' of her own. With a bit of leather thong, she makes herself a matching necklace about her throat. "There.." A favor for herself, one that will be tucked into her armor to be kept against her skin. "Till later, and our talk?"

Aluksander checked his reckless of 10, he rolled 13.
Critical Success!
Aluksander checked his prudent of 10, he rolled 10.
Aluksander checked his chaste of 13, he rolled 5.

Aluksander waits patiently while she makes her pendant, watching her thoughtfully as she does so. When she finishes, he nods and opens his arms once more so that he can embrace her in a hug. "I should also like to leave you with this," he murmurs quietly, before kissing her. And while the kiss is certainly full and of sufficient length as to leave one in need of a breath, it is of the chaste variety that he more frequently gives.

Deryn smiles once she has his favor tucked away, then steps in to return his hug. The kiss is well received, and maybe it's because of the battle ahead of them, that she doesn't push the kiss any further than what he offers. Not a time to get him confused or off balance! Drawing away, she salutes him, "May the saxon bastards fall beneath your blade, Sir Aluksander.." One last nod given, she turns and heads off, returning to her duties assigned to her.

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