(514-07-01) Spear-Friends
Summary: Amalthea meets up with Catriona and Martyn, and the latter gives the Dinton lady a lesson with a spear. #NotInnuendo
Date: 514-07-01
Related: None
amalthea catriona martyn 

The bells are tolling and evening is settling over the quarter. Catriona walks arm-in-arm with her brother, Martyn, from the Eagle market — perhaps just taking a little turn after their late meal. The Lady wears a long tunic of fine blue over white linen. It's all good quality, but pristinely kept — she's immensely clean. Around her throat is a dark wooden cross accented with pewter to keep it strong. Her chestnut hair is braided in a fishtail over her shoulder, thick as a mane. She is standing close to her brother, and looking down at the ground, pensive. "Do you think I am too much a child sometimes, brother?" The girl asks, musingly.

One can tell Amalthea's imminent arrival by the smell of horseflesh and hay that precedes here. It's a pleasant enough odour, if one likes the stables. If not, it might cause a nose-wrinkle or three. Still, the tall, willowy brunette comes strolling along, her long stride carrying her at more of a clip than most, despite the fact she seems unhurried. A smile lingers on her lips, her golden-dark eyes bright with good cheer. Her garb is simple stable fare; tights, a tunic, tall boots all in very non-descript colour. Her path is such that she might almost be on a collision course with the brother and sister duo.

"Too much a child?" Martyn pauses as he hears that question, blinking a little. "What makes you think so, sister? There are times that I think the opposite, really." The reply is offered with a quiet smile, as he looks to his sister rather carefully. He hasn't really noticed the arrival of someone else, although as the tall brunette gets closer, that scent alerts him, and there's a smile on his face right away, even before he turns. "Lady Amalthea. How nice to see you today. Have you met my youngest sister, Catriona?"

Maryn's response seems to please Catriona, and a small, reserved smile creeps its way onto her features. She looks down again, squeezing his arm as she walks. "Nothing, I suppose. I worry, sometimes, about strange things." She doesn't seem intent to say more on the matter, which is just as well when Maryn is calling out to someone. Catriona's bright blue eyes flit upward, alert and curious. A lady, it seems, that Martyn wishes her to meet. She doesn't dislodge her arm from his, but lowers herself in a small bob of respect for an equal, with a slight tilting down of her gaze in momentary respect. As Amalthea was addressed in the introduction, Catriona doesn't speak yet but allows the other woman to answer at her leisure.

Amalthea rarely stands on ceremony, so though she echoes Catriona's dip, her own is a shadow of an afterthought, punctuated only by a bright smile. "Sir Martyn. It is, as it always is, a pleasure to see you." Her voice is a study in earnest, and she turns her gaze on Catriona at his side. "I have not. Lady Catriona de Baverstock? I am well pleased to meet you. Lady Amalthea de Dinton, at your service. I do hope I have not interrupted sibling bonding? I am only come from work to worship."

Martyn's smile widens, nodding a little as he listens. "And it's always a pleasure to see you as well, my lady." Nodding as he looks between the two, he offers a smile to both of them. "I hope your work is going well?" he offers to Amalthea, before he looks to Catriona again. "Lady Amalthea is the Earl's stablemaster," he explains, before he adds, "And one of the most skilled people I know at dealing with horses."

"Oh, I'm sure we completed our bonding many years ago. Perhaps the night we spent in the fields, avoiding father for the temporary loss of his prize horse, hmm?" Catriona glances over to Martyn to see his response to that particular memory before looking back to the woman. Her brother's discription of Amalthea's work causes Catriona's brows to lift in interest. "Oh? Is that so? Perhaps I ought have the good Lady look to my own beast — he's become far too fond of stealing food when no one is watching, and become quite the nuisiance so far as I cannot manage to train him. Do you have a particular suggestion for the training of horses?" Her own smile is polite with a touch of warmth and ease to it.

"All the horses except yours," Amalthea asides to Martyn, her grin rueful and petulant, yet teasing, as if this might be a running joke between the two of them. She turns to include Catriona in it. "Your brother's horses quite despise me, I am ashamed to say, despite all my 'skill' with horses. Should you still wish my aid, I would be happy to give it, though I will not judge you should you rather run screaming in the opposite direction." Thoroughly paused now, her fingers clasp together in front of her tunic, feet rocking back and forth with barely-restrained energy.

"Ah, but you know my horses, they even despise me from time to time," Martyn replies, quite lightly, as he looks between the two ladies again. "I suspect that if they talked like people, they would complain about that idiot that wants to sit on them, or something." There's a grin as he speaks now. At Catriona's words about that night in the fields, he's unable to hold back laughter. "Ah, yes. He was quite angry about that…"

"Not so angry as we when we learned the animal had returned of his own accord before sundown, forcing us to stay in the wheat for a night for hardly any reason at all," Catriona quips to her brother, looking back to the woman. She nods deeply, respectfully. "Any suggestion that you may have I should gladly take, Lady Dinton. May I ask … are you related to Lady Lysandor Dinton? If so, I am a loss for which I ought to congratulate you first — for your own impending nuptuils, or the ones of your relative. The latter of which I daresay may make us some manner of relations, through multiple bindings of matrimony and kin, would it not?"

"And every right had your father to be angry," Amalthea opines with a light chortle and a shake of her chestnut head, much like the tossing mane of a mare. "Self-punishment seems more than fitting, at least," she teases, before her bright smile dims a little and she casts a quick glance to Martyn, almost pained. "Ah. Yes," she turns back to Catriona, her spark a little more dim now, "Lysanor is my cousin. Have you met her? She is exceedingly beautiful and accomplished. She will make a wondrous wife. We will be undeniably allied, at the very least, though I fair suspect Baverstock and Dinton already were, what with fostering and the like." Her own impending nuptials, she omits.

There's a flash of something for a few brief moments on Martyn's face at the change of topic, and he glances away, giving himself those few moments to compose himself a bit again. When he looks back, he smiles to Amalthea. "Yes, congratulations," he offers, listening to what's said about Lysanor. "And she and Bryce seems to care for each other already, which is always a good thing," he offers, after another brief moment of pause.

Catriona checked her awareness of 15, she rolled 3.

"The benefit must be for Baverstock then, to gain Lady Lysandor as our lady and you as our cousin, however distant," Catriona notes, her blue eyes tilting toward her brother's face. What's got him turning his face so strange? She gives no indication of her current thoughts toward him other than that momentary glance of curiosity. "You're quite right, though, that eventually it is not the ties of family but of friendship and aquaitence that can keep two familes bound together. Speaking of Bryce, however," she turns her eyes back to her brother after hopefully allowing him to adjust whatever it is that had crossed his mind and his face. "He wishes to travel back home with us, when we go. So I hope you will excuse me, My Lady, brother. There are some details I wish to see to in order to make sure we have everything we need for such a group to be traveling."

Seeing Martyn once more composed, Amalthea is able to summon back her sunny smile. "Thank you, sir Martyn. It has been very… sudden." Her gaze pulls from him and back to Catriona. "Surely, though, Lysanor is fortunate to be marrying into a family whose nobility is great in both stature and in heart. We are grateful she is able to follow her own heart in this matter. I have not met sir Bryce at any length, but I cannot believe, having met others of your family, he could be anything but a perfect gentleman and husband." She dips her dark head once more to the lady. "I bid you god speed, Lady Catriona."

Martyn nods as he hears Amalthea's words, but he doesn't say anything now. And if he noticed that glance of curiosity from his sister, he doesn't say anything. Smiling again as he listens, he nods, "Yes, following your heart is something those who are able to do should be quite grateful for," he says, before smiling to his sister. "Of course, Catriona. I will see you later," he offers to her now.

Catriona bobs herself once more, gently and gracefully and simply, in the Lady's direction. For Martyn, it is a kiss on the cheek that heralds her depature. "Good evening to you both," she says with that same polite smile with a touch of wamrth before turning to head back toward the Eagle district.

Amalthea watches Catriona depart, silent as the lady does so, before she turns her golden eyes back upon Martyn. The silence stretches for another moment, heavy with things unspoken, before Amalthea finally dispels it. "Your sister seems very lovely. I am heartened to think that Lysanor will have such wonderful company. Do you… erm, do you wish to walk with me to the church, or do you have matters to attend to?"

Content with the quiet for those moments, first watching as his sister left, then to look back to Amalthea, offering her a smile, Martyn nods. "She is. A bit too serious at times, but lovely." A brief pause, and the look of a little boy crosses his features very briefly. "Just don't ruffle her hair…" That said, he nods, "I would love to walk with you to the church, Thea. As always, I treasure your company."

Amalthea's cheeks heat at the compliment and she ducks her head to hide it. "Thank you, sir Martyn. I will make a note of it, not to ruffle her hair. So, you ride for Baverstock soon? I will miss your company in town."

"I will," Martyn replies, before he adds, "And I will miss your company too. But I will probably come back into town every now and then, to take care of a few things." A brief pause, before he adds, "And I will really miss your company too."

The blush only grows, but the lady seems resigned to it now and doesn't bother to hide it. As she strolls, she glances to Martyn. "What will you do when you return to Baverstock manor?" the lady asks, curious. "There are many a wedding preparation there, I suspect? Will you serve in the wedding?"

Pausing at that question, Martyn shrugs a little, "I don't know. Mostly focusing on keeping my skills sharp, I suppose." At the mention of wedding preparations, there's another shrug, and a brief smile. "I haven't spoken with Bryce about that yet, so I have no idea," he replies, rather quietly.

"Which skills will you focus on, sir?" Amalthea enquires, walking as she continues the conversation. Her strides she keeps measured, despite her normally long-legged gait. "Sword or axe? Do you have any skill with bow or spear?"

"The sword, probably. That's what I'm most used to using." Martyn shrugs a little, before he adds, "And I have a little skill with the spear. Not very much, though." Smiling, he glances around very briefly.

"I should like to learn the spear," The lady replies, grinning. "I know that is not so much a desirable trait for a lady to possess, but it is something that I have long wanted to learn to do. Do you think, perhaps, you might teach me?"

Martyn pauses for a few moments as he hears that. "What would…" he begins, trailing off, before he offers a quiet smile. "While I'm no master with the spear, I would feel better knowing you had at least the skill enough to be able to defend yourself," he replies, with a nod. A brief pause, before he adds, "And you know that… Whenever you might need my help with anything, just send word to me…"

"To defend, yes, but mostly I think I should use it to hunt," Amalthea relates, casting Martyn the flash of a sidelong grin. "I am quite adept at tracking all manner of creature, but I have no skill to bring food to the table. I do wish to be of use to… well, to be of use," she murmurs, cutting off whatever else she might have said in self-awareness. She glances aside, to one of the fields that lines the road on the way to the church. "Could you teach me now, do you think? Just the basics?"

A brief pause as he hears that, and Martyn smiles, "Right now? If we have a spear, or something that

Clad in her boots, it is not so hard for Amalthea to depart the relative safety of the road, for the unknown consistency of the field. She does so without further ado, making her way across the grass, eyes darting back and forth. "Surely we might find a branch or suitably long stick, if we search!" she chimes out, turning to cast Martyn a freckled, cheshire grin. "Well? Come and help, won't you? If you stand in the road and gawk, others will too!" It's light hearted teasing, what Thea is best at.

Martyn waiting for a few brief moments as he sees Amalthea head off onto the field, just watching her until he hears her words. Unable to hold back a grin, that, if one look closer, seems to fill his expression with both happiness and sadness at the same time, he shakes his head a little lightly before he moves to join her now. "Any luck yet?"

You check your hunting at 15, you rolled 11.

If Thea realizes the torment she visits upon the poor Knight, she doesn't show it. In fact, she seems oblivious to anything other than finding a suitable stick. As luck would have it, something does catch the lady's careful eye and she bends down, scooping up her prize. She hoists up high with a triumphant cry. "Ah, the lord smiles upon us this day!" To Martyn, she extends her prize: the broken haft of a spear, still long enough to be useful, but not sharp enough to be dangerous. "For you, my lord," she extends it to Martyn with an exaggerated, playful curtsey.

Martyn smiles, nodding a bit as he sees the prize, unable to hold back a bit of laughter at the way it is presented to him. "Thank you, my lady," he replies, with a smile, as he takes the haft, weighing it in his hands for a few brief moments. "Now, watch carefully," he offers, before he starts moving with the spear, in a few of the most basic spear drills, which he does quite slowly. "Remember, with the spear, one of the main advantages, both when hunting and if you need to use it against a person, is the range."

"So that I can keep potential predators at bay?" Amalthea asks, tipping her head in a very birdlike motion, following his movements with her whole head rather than just her eyes. "That seems like the wisest course of action. Though of course," she muses, grinning, "most likely easier said than done. Can you go through that series again, please? I would like to make sure I know it before I try it and end up poking your eye out by accident."

Nodding as he hears that, Martyn smiles, "If you are hunting predators, it would be smart to use the range to keep them away, yes." He pauses at the request to go through the motions again, and comes to a stop, before he moves into those moves once more, rather slowly.

Amalthea's gaze on the man is both watchful and fond, committing the series of movements to her memory before extending a hand for the blunted stick. "I shall do my best. Is there any particular stance I should favor, or is it all instinctive, sir?" She tries a braced stance, at least for now, until the knight can correct her. "And any particular place on the haft where my hands should go? Fore? Aft?"

Handing over the stick, Martyn waits a few moments to see where she places her hands. "Maybe a little more like this…" Reaching out to move her hands a little, he nods. "And I think we should just concentrate on the movement so far, not the stances. It will come a bit easier when you're more comfortable with the spear." Stepping back to let her try those movements now.

You check your dex at 14, you rolled 10.

Amalthea accepts all guidance, even if she flushes a little when his hands place hers in the correct grip. It's not enough to distract her from learning the movement, though. In her mind, she walks herself through the movements Martyn performed only moments ago, allowing her natural dexterity to move the stick in a facsimile of those same motions. She does it thrice before she seems satisfied with the outcome and glances up at him in inquiry. "Okay?"

Martyn smiles as he watches her movements now. "That looks quite good for someone just starting to learn," he offers, with a smile. Studying her carefully for a few moments longer, before offering her a grin. "You're sure you haven't been fighting with spears before?"

You check your modest at 13, you rolled 7.

Amalthea gives a quick shake of her head, managing to contain her boastfulness at having done so well. "Ah, well, I suspect that putting the horses through their paces has helped me much. The motions are similar, tis only the spear that is lacking. And," she adds, her bright smile surfacing, "I happen to have an excellent teacher. Thank you. Will you teach me more, or should I continue to practice these movements?"

Martyn checked his modest of 13, he rolled 14.
Martyn checked his proud of 7, he rolled 14.

Nodding at the mention of the work with the horses, Martyn smiles. "It probably helps a great deal, yes." He goes a bit silent at the mention of being an excellent teacher, looking quite unsure of what to say or do now. Glancing around in an attempt to recover a bit, he smiles as he hears the question. "You should probably work on those movements until the next time we can get together, and then we'll try some new movements then," he replies, finally.

Amalthea nods her acquiescence to the knight, grinning amiably and practicing the series again, to commit it further to memory. "Thank you, sir Martyn… err. Might I ask, would it be presumptuous of me to simply call you by your given name when we are alone? It feels awkward to call you sir Martyn during moments like this, given how dear a friend you have become." She sounds tentative, unsure of the request.

Martyn smiles, "Of course not. Just call me by my name." Glancing around once more, then back to her, he adds, "It tends to feel a bit awkward and complicated using titles when one doesn't have to, doesn't it?"

"It does," Amalthea says, all in a rush, grateful for his understanding. "I have never been one to stand on ceremony, especially in situations like this! If you will return me the favor, I would be happy. As we are friends, I see no reason to bother with titles in these quiet moments where none may look down upon us for it."

"Of course," Martyn replies, before he adds, "And I've never been much for the ceremony either. There are too many things in life one needs to endure, so the ceremony part should be as brief as possible."

Thea beams. "Exactly. It has its place, but that place is short and sweet," she chimes, shrugging her slender shoulders. "Thank you, Martyn," she tries out his Christian name experimentally, grinning at her own awkwardness. "For that, and for your training today. I look forward to my next lesson." She sketches the knight a quick curtsy, darting a grin up at him. "Now, I had best go pray for my immortal soul."

Martyn smiles, "You're welcome, Thea." A brief pause, unable to hold back a grin at the mention of the prayer. "Of course. The well being of your soul is important, after all," he replies, with a smile. "I should look for my sister again. If we will be riding home tomorrow, there are things that need to be readied."

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