(514-09-14) Falconry Round 1 - Completing the Horton Sweep
Summary: Lydia meets Sir Aeson of Dorset on the fields of falconry - and pulls off an upset victory.
Date: 09-14-514
Related: Sarum Summer Tournament



If it was one place that Joachim knew he would find Lydia - it would be at the Sarum tournament fields. She had entered into the tournament, and as the pairings for the falconry tournament are set, he hears word that Lydia's younger brother, Wilhelm de Horton, had just pulled off a major upset against a well-trained professional. That lifts Joachim's spirits, hoping that the fortune will be extended to the Lady of Horton as he comes to the staging area to seek her out.

Lydia has indeed heard about Wilhelm's upset victory, and while she is delighted for him, it makes her even more nervous. Now she has an expectation to live up to, and she knows she hasn't gotten enough training yet to really make a win of it, and she didn't sign up expecting to win. She did it for the experience. But now, well. The expectation is there. Her little merlin, Lilith, perches docilely on her gloved wrist, the jesses clutched in her hand as she awaits her opponent.

Joachim checked his flirting of 3, he rolled 7.
Joachim makes a check for Aeson Flirting at 9, he rolled 4.

"Lydia!" Joachim spots the young lady and makes his way over to her, a glance at the bird. "That is a nice falcon you have.. I'm sure it will serve you well today.." he comments, a little lop-sided smile between falcon and woman before words once again seem to fail him. "I don't think you'll catch any fish, though?" It was a lame attempt at a flirt, surely if his sister had heard, there would have been a groan.

He wants to say more, but the announce the next pairing. "Lady Lydia de Horton and her Merlin Lilith will be sparring against Sir Aeson of Dorset and his Peregrine Blade."

The cocky young knight comes out from the staging tent, glancing at the curves on the woman and the stout knight with her and smirks. "Perhaps when you are done talking to the wall there, m'lady, you will come and enjoy my company on the field, and perhaps over dinner to celebrate my victory?" he asks, cock-sure of himself as he strides towards the field, giving Lydia a wink.

Joachim looks down, her favor still between his fingers as if he assumes she's going to take it back and rush to give it to her competitor. "I.. good fortune and hunting, Lydia.." he manages, the stout knight at a loss for other words of encouragement.

Lydia checked her prudent of 16, she rolled 4.
Lydia checked her flirting of 10, she rolled 2.

"Sir Joachim…" Lydia starts to say, but does back up a step, because she doesn't want to startle her raptor. "Your good wishes are most kind. But I don't expect to win, I'm simply doing it for the practice." And then there's Sir Aeson. The favor is very much left in Joachim's hand as she turns to study her opponent. She says nothing to him, makes no promises; only lowers her lashes to study him through them and lets a smile briefly touch her lips. With no more encouragement than that, she moves to take position for the start.

Lydia checked her falconry of 6, she rolled 5.
Joachim makes a check for Aeson Falconry at 13, he rolled 19.

Stepping out onto the field, Aeson watches the two close together, and then she parts and the man, shorter than Lydia and smaller smirks. "Run along oaf." he says to the large man. He licks his lips, imagining the dinner he will surely be enjoying with Lydia later. "You have made a wise decision, m'lady." he says with a rapturous grin as he releases his peregrine into the skies.

The hounds rush the field at the command of the Huntmaster, flushing the prey. As a hare takes off from the protective briar, it races across the field. "Oh, how easy. Blade, kill." Aeson watches Lydia, surely his skill will impress her - until there's a flurry of feather and the peregrine comes up with empty claws. "Humph. Surely the Salisbury's have coated their hares in oil!" he protests, a petulant noise that his kill was not immediate.

Lydia checked her prudent of 16, she rolled 2.

Lydia has the grace to wince in sympathy when the man's peregrine's claws sheathe in nothing but air. "A pity." she says politely, but accords him no more attention as she murmurs softly to her wee merlin as she removes the bird's hood. The hare is released, and then Lilith is off like a shot. The bird of prey lets out a little skree as she makes her dive, and when she soars upward, she is clutching onto that little fuzzy bunny with all of her might. The prey is dropped at Lydia's feet, and with a quick circle, returns to Lydia's raised wrist. For her part? Lydia looks rather stunned at her victory.

Joachim makes a check for Aeson Flirting at 9, he rolled 6.

Up in the stands, as Lydia scores her victory, Joachim cannot help but to grin. The Lady scored a win. And the Marshall calls it as such, the red flag gestured towards Aeson as the man's falcon returns to him. The Dorset knight hmphs, but gives Lydia a look regardless. "Then it seems it will be your victory we dine over, Lady Lydia." he assumes as he grins, starting to approach her, a look into the stands and a self-assured smirk towards the knight who had tried to catch her eye but failed. "…perhaps we can discuss relations between our lands." he suggests.

The Newton knight clutches his hands to his sides, but only ducks his head next to his sister. He can't be as the Dorset man is - so easy with his flirtations with Lydia, and just he sighs.

Lydia checked her flirting of 10, she rolled 9.

"I'm afraid my family obligations require me to be elsewhere, Sir Aeson." Lydia replies, favoring him with a sweet smile. "And I am otherwise occupied for the duration of the tourney. You will forgive me, won't you? But a lady must honor her family's wishes." Cue winsome smile. It's downright simpering. She's probably a little sick inside from it.

Aeson smirks. "But of course.. perhaps I shall be fortunate enough to partake with your family events soon." he says, a mild hint - of either his intentions or the skirmishes on the border as the knight turns to hood his peregrine to head off the field with a faint sulk as the Dorset man moves to return to his encampment.

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