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There is a light dusting of powdery white on the ground with more soft flakes falling upon the covered marketplace stalls - at least, those brave enough to be out in the mild winter chill. Though the market is not so full as it normally is, there is still a small throng of winter shoppers, including one very tall Amalthea Wylye, nee Dinton. The willowy brunette is covered by a dark brown cloak, held together with a lovely little horse clasp. On her arm swings a basket, covered with cloth against the elements. She is perusing, for now, lingering by a stall selling various little knick knacks and 'treasures'.
Having gotten himself out and about, Martyn steps into the market as well, looking around. When he sees Amalthea, he makes his way over in her direction, steps a bit slow for now.
Amalthea's rich brown eyes linger over a small wood-carved figurine of a stallion, caught mid leap. Her fingertips run over the little carving reverently, before the stablemaster takes a booted step back regretfully. "Not today, alas," she murmurs to the shopkeep, half turning. "Winter is always hard."
"Life is hard, winter more than most other days, my lady," comes the quiet comment from Martyn as he approaches. Unable to hold back a grin, he adds, "Hopefully, the company of friends will make it less hard."
Amalthea's smile lights her entire face, so broadly does it shine when she hears that familiar, well-loved voice. "Martyn!" There is a step taken towards the knight, arms lifted, almost as if Amalthea were about to embrace him. She checks herself at the last moment, though, settling instead for reaching a bare hand out to his. "You bring warmth to this chilly day. It has been far too long, my dearest friend. How are you?"
Martyn smiles as well, shaking the offered hand, before stepping closer for a brief embrace anyway, before he steps back again. "It has been far too long. And all things considered, I'm well. How about you?" Glancing around very briefly, he shakes his head, before looking back to the lady.
Amalthea blushes at the embrace, but her smile is still warm and she returns the squeeze, despite the glances the two might draw from the winter shoppers. "I am well. Adjusting to splitting my time between the Earl and Wylye is taking some skill, but I feel certain I'm near to getting the knack of it. Have you been fighting much on the Dorset front? I worry about you, you know."
Martyn smiles, nodding a bit as he hears that. "Any kind of adjustment sounds like a challenge," he offers with a quiet nod, before he adds, "Some fighting, but not the biggest battles this time. Mostly just training and other preparations." A brief pause, and a smile, "That means a lot to me." That to her last words.
"Tis naught but the truth," Amalthea replies solemnly, her dark brown eyes that verge on golden, locking with his. "You will always have a piece of my heart, Martyn, I do hope you know that." Her cheeks are brighter at that, and then she ducks her head. "Would you like to walk with me a ways, or do you have business to attend to? I was going to seek something warm to drink at the Boar's Beard."
"And you have a piece of mine, Thea," Martyn replies, with a quiet smile. "No matter what happens, that's the truth." Spoken a bit quietly, before he smiles, "My business can wait. The Boar's Beard sounds like an excellent idea."
Thea's smile turns quizzical. "No matter what happens? That's a touch ominous, Martyn," the stablemaster chortles, turning her long legs towards the public house. "Have you been into the pagan prophecies?" The tease is light, and she extends her hand to his arm, if offered, slipping her basket to the other side.
Martyn pauses as he hears that, unable to hold back a chuckle. "I'm sorry if you thought it was omnious. I only meant that you're married now, and I probably will be at some point too, right?" Shaking his head momentarily, he adds, "And no, I have not been into any prophecies." Taking the offered hand as they walk over towards the Boar's Beard.
Amalthea's fingers rest lightly on Martyn's arm, taking the polite escort as they stroll towards the tavern. "Sooner, rather than later, I imagine. It seems like the marriage bug has infected everyone around these parts. Banns have been announced almost daily, haven't they? I suppose it is better to accomplish these things before winter sets in in earnest. Gives us all something to do during the housebound season, at least." There's an unladylike snort of laughter from the stablemaster. "Aside from mending, which I have never been good at."
"They seem to have been announced quite often, yes," Martyn replies, before he raises an eyebrow. "Now that is something you probably should not be speaking about in public, my dear," he offers, with a chuckle.
"You are probably right," Amalthea replies prudently. Her long legs easily keep pace, and it's not long before the duo approach the Boar and it's fire-heated warmth. "But if I cannot joke with my closest friend, who can I joke with? Are you offended?" she asks, pursing her lips. "If you are, then I am sorry."
Martyn looks quite serious for a few moments, "I'm…" he begins, before he's unable to hold back a bit of laughter. "… not offended at all."
Thea nudges the knight with a friendly shoulder, casting him a dirty look for those few moments of breath-held dread. "Mean is what you are," she informs Martyn primly as they slip inside the ale house, but she can't hold back her grin for long. It slips unbridled and her heady chuckle adds to his mirth. "I have been practicing my spear, you know. I might best you next we practice, in retribution!"
Martyn offers a grin in return as he hears that. "Ah, I'm sure you will best me," he replies, offering her a smile. "After all, you are one of the persons I know that is best at learning things."
Thea's smile is like a ray of sun, and she aims it Martyn's way as she heads for a table. It's unfortunate, because it distracts the woman from watching where her feet fall. One falls upon a dropped mead stein and rolls, and whatever Thea might have replied to the sweet compliment is lost in her startled cry. The lady starts to flail and tumble backwards.
Success
Martyn checked his dex of 12, he rolled 6.
Pausing as he sees her stepping on that mead stein, and then the flail and tumble, Martyn reacts as fast as he can, managing to move over to catch her as she starts tumbling. "Easy there…" he offers, words a bit quiet as he catches her, not letting go until he's sure she's got her balance back.
There's that space of breath between when Amalthea expects to hit the ground and when Martyn catches her, where her stomach drops to her feet, and the lady's mouth O's in shock. Her hands reel back to brace herself, but instead find a sturdy knight behind her, keeping her aloft. The frantic staccato of her heart takes its time to slow as Martyn helps her back to her feet. "My hero," she chuckles shakily. "Your reflexes are superb, sir."
Waiting until she's fully back on her feet before he lets go, Martyn offers a smile. "They are far from superb, but still, thankfully better than many people. Otherwise, I may not have survived many battles." It's said a bit quietly, before he adds, "Thankfully they were good enough for this time."
"I am certainly thankful," Amalthea replies, resuming her path to an empty table, signaling for a server as she does. "Each and every time. Will you be training in anything in particular this winter?" She slides into an empty chair near the blazing hearth, absently holding her hands up to the warmth.
Martyn moves over to take a seat as well, pausing for a few moments at the question. "I will have to try improving most things, really. And there are a few other things I will need to learn as well."
Amalthea takes a moment to order a steaming cider for herself, and then pauses a moment to let Martyn order, before resuming, leaning in with curiosity. "What other things?"
Martyn orders one of those ciders as well, before he looks around the room rather carefully. Waiting for a few moments longer, he lowers his voice a bit. "I have never really gotten around to learning to read and write properly…" he admits, finally.
Amalthea doesn't seem all that surprised. She takes the admission with an easy nod, and an encouraging smile. "And you wish to do so? That is commendable, Martyn. Do you have a teacher already?"
"I think it would be quite useful to know how to do so, yes." Martyn offers this with a quiet smile, before he adds, "And no, I have no teacher so far. I considered asking my sister, but I'm not sure."
"I would be quite happy to teach you," Amalthea is quick to offer, her smile spreading. "I could use the distraction, since winter makes me a little stir-crazy. We could arrange the lessons for when I am here at the Earl's stables. If you wish it?"
Martyn smiles. "If you're willing to take such a difficult task, I'd be very grateful," he replies, another smile offered now.
"I certainly am," Amalthea replies, the energetic young woman beaming back at Martyn as the steaming ciders reach their table. "We shall have you reading Latin and summing numbers before winter is out, see if we don't! Come to the stables when you have free time, and we shall begin your lessons." She lifts her drink to the knight in salute. "A very noble goal, indeed."
Martyn smiles, nodding as he hears that. "That sounds good," he replies, lifting his own drink in a salute too.