(514-06-23) Clarity
Summary: Rowan and Martyn bump into each other and talk about FEELINGS.
Date: 6/23/514
Related: Who Knew? and Shaken then Stirred
martyn rowan 


After that walk of his, when he ran into his cousin Bryce, Martyn has found his way to the Boar's Beard. Having found himself a table in a corner, he's got something to drink in front of him, but doesn't seem to be paying too much attention to that. Simply looking out into the room a bit absently.

Failed.
You check your awareness at 5, you rolled 7.

Rowan is at the bar with his squire, Hefin - a youth with wheat blonde hair and a perpetually nervous gaze, which flits about the tavern at the slightest noises. They exchange a few words before Hefin skitters off, possibly sent on an errand, while his knight turns back towards the barkeep and slides a few coins his way. A tankard of mead is set before him and he takes a long draught, oblivious to the happenings around him at the moment.

Failed.
Martyn checked his Awareness of 10, he rolled 19.

Looking around, Martyn shakes his head a little. "Bloody mess…" he mutters to himself, shaking his head a bit. He takes a long sip from his own tankard, shaking his head a bit as he gets to his feet, and moves over to place himself at the bar as well. "One more…" he mutters to the barkeep, as he finds himself a spot at the bar, not realizing it's next to where Rowan is.

"Huh?" Martyn's reply is a bit absent as he hears the greeting, blinking a few times. He then loks to his side, expression stiffening a bit as he sees who it is. "You…" Looking like he's about to say anything else, then just shrugs.

Success
You check your honest at 16, you rolled 15.

Rowan continues to eye the other man. "Amalthea told me you visited her earlier. And confessed." His gaze shifts away now. "I'd say I'm sorry, but that'd be a lie. But… I don't wish you any ill will, Sir Martyn. Had she returned your feelings, I would have accepted that." Very moodily, perhaps, but he'd have no choice.

Taking a few deep breaths, Martyn opens his mouth to say something, then simply closes it again. Studying Rowan rather carefully for a few moments, his fists clenches, then unclenches, and he looks away again. Taking a few more deep breaths.

Rowan holds his stare, regardless of the visible signs of seething anger coming from the other man. "I respect you for not lashing out at her; lesser men may, in their jealousy. It tells me you truly do care." Those amber eyes finally do leave the Baverstock, to look wistfully ahead. "That is all I wish to say; I will not bother you any further."

"I can't change the way I feel…" Martyn says, after a few moments of pause, looking back to the Wylye now. Staring at the man, in fact.

Rowan blinks now, looking over his shoulder again. "I'm not asking you to," he answers. "Time can change things, but… that is up to you."

Pausing as he hears the other man, Martyn lets out another few breaths. "I…" Going silent again, he studies the other man. "She's special… But then again, you know that too…" He pauses again as he sees he's gotten his drink again, taking a long sip from it.

"I know… which is why I'm not sorry. I don't think you'd be if you were in my position, either." Rowan blinks. Normally he was the one doing the intense stare-downs, but it seems it was his turn to be on the receiving end. "Am I wrong?"

"No." The word comes rather quietly from Martyn, before he takes another long sip. "I wasn't sure if I should tell her," he begins, shaking his head a bit. "But she deserve to know how I feel about her." Another brief pause, before he looks to the other man. "Will you…" he begins, trailing off.

Failed.
You check your awareness at 5, you rolled 9.

He breathes through his nose. "It was brave of you to do so," he admits before looking confused at the question. Half of a question, really. "Will I… what?"

Martyn takes another drink, holding the tankard in front of his face for a few moments longer. "You know… what happens next?" A brief pause, and he shrugs, setting his tankard down again. "And I'm not sure it was brave of me to do so, but I know it was cowardly of me not telling her earlier…"

His expression softens. "I intend to ask for her hand in marriage, and she is aware of it. I had initially planned to court her properly but… I'm thinking you may not be her only other admirer and they may not be so understanding." Rowan frowns when Martyn calls himself cowardly. "How long were you aware of your feelings? Did you fall for her upon sight?"

"I… ever since I left the stables yesterday, I was considering doing so myself. But what would my happiness be worth if she wasn't happy?" Martyn replies, looking straight out into the air. "I think I fell for her one of the first times we met, but I was not entirely sure of it before the tourney…" A brief pause, as he looks to the other man. "You?"

This conversation had taken an unexpected turn. Instead of a brawl and thrown insults, two grown knights were now sharing their feelings with each other in the middle of a pub. And somehow it doesn't feel exceptionally awkward! "After I bit into her poorly-made blueberry muffin and nearly choked." It seems to be a half-hearted attempt at self-deprecating humor. "No, I fell in love with her laugh, first."

Martyn is unable to hold back a chuckle as he hears that answer. Nodding as he hears the part about the laugh. "That's quite understandable." Shaking his head, he takes another sip from his ale, before he looks straight at Rowan again. "Make sure you give her things to laugh about, every single day…" It's spoken quietly, but forcefully.

"I will try," he answers simply before standing. "Hopefully these dark times will pass swiftly. Take care of yourself, Sir Martyn." It sounds like Rowan is preparing to depart.

Standing as well, Martyn reaches over to place a hand on the other man's shoulder, stepping closer. "And know that if you do anything to hurt her, I will make sure you will regret that." It's said quietly, before he offers the man a brief smile. "Take care, Sir Rowan."

Rowan nearly scoffs at the threat - it ends up sounding more like a huff. "Likewise, Baverstock." He does expect the two of them to remain friends, even after all of this. The Wylye heads out of the tavern, perhaps in search of the squire who had yet to return to him.

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