The Tourney at Ashford

From atop the castle walls, trying to use them for protection against the wind, Tal looked over the stretching tents. It looked like a town. Fires burning, people moving about, the noise and the smells. It was all alive and ever shifting. Alongside the evening sky it was a magnificent view.

Wrapping his cloak tighter around himself he moved to stroll along the walls. This isn't so bad.

There was another figure in a dark cloak on up there. They also looked out over the tents, though they didn't seem to be trying to hide from the wind. Instead, long, wavy raven hair whipped around at its whim as its owner leaned her forearms on a flat portion while she looked over the pavilions, expression pensive.

Oh, you're pretty. A sturdy lass too eh? Tal thought to himself as he approached the woman having spotted her and lacking for any other company. However, he slowed a moment as he drew closer. It's the Lady Arwyn you dolt. Come on Tal. Feeling foolish for his earlier impression from a distance he rubbed his forehead and stepped over to the wall a couple of metres to her side.

"Enjoying the view m'lady? It's a windy evening, but that doesn't bother you eh?" Leaning over for a better view of the surroundings he does glance her way and smile. "Bored of the servants swearing over tents going wild? If so that's two of us."

She looks toward Tal, a smile crossing her lips, straightening a little. Even with her more genteel position now, the hair that still flowed around her like a wind-blown cape gave her a bit of a wild look. It made it easier to imagine her growing up in the wood and mountains of the North. "Very much so... I like the wind, truth be told. I'm glad we thought to tie them down hard earlier today."

"Smart of you! Our servants are having to struggle to do that now." He guffaws into the wind. Looking back to her he smiles gently. "The wind seems to enjoy playing with your hair Lady Arwyn."

"Well, we're used to extreme weather, I guess." She catches a lock of it, chuckling softly. "So it seems... It's going to be a nightmare to try and untangle later, but that's all right."

"I hope you packed a good brush Lady Arwyn." Tal responds, tilting his head a little and looking over her hair and face. "I'm sure it'll look even lovelier than it does already."

She chuckles softly, turning toward him and leaning back against a handy bit of masonry. "My hair becomes so frizzy if I use a brush. I have to go for a comb." She bounces it a little, though the high winds make the illustration ineffective. "Because it's so wavy, you see."

He chuckles alongside her, smiling growing a moment before he turns back to the view over the city of tents far below. "I think I see, but it's difficult for me to be sure. I've honestly never seen a lady with hair as radiant as yours." He peeks back at her with a teasing grin only to quickly look away. "Why it shines so much I cannot behold it for long for it is much too dazzling."

"Oh, off with that," she replies with a chuckle. "My hair didn't even have the respectability to be a proper black. There are plenty of women here that fit your description far better." She sighed a little. Regardless of what some said, it was true. Compared to the other women here, she was plain. She had to work hard to make her personality stand out, and make those around her see her as beautiful. The world was built on perception.

Turning himself fully to her he steps back from the wall and reaches up to touch his heart. He then bows low, other hand making a flourish. "I would never lie to a lady." He stands up straight and taps his chest once. "Mayhaps it is merely a foolish man's preference, but I find darker hair a good sign of intelligence and wit. Besides, I have always much more fancied a woman who can easily withstand the elements and even brush away a fool's flattery, even if it is actually the truth, than one merely with a pretty form and naught else."

Dipping his head politely he returns to the wall, leaning forward to try to look down. Just how far was it? He leans back after a moment. His sincere words a moment ago are replaced with his usual easy-going cheerfulness. "How are your House's efforts faring finding allies? I know Lord Warryn met with his father, Lord Wydman, about what we discussed. I believe they may actually have the degree of influence you are seeking be commited in support of your family in that unfortunate land matter."

She looks toward him and smiles a little. "I was always told men prefer a docile and submissive lady... It seems they might have had a misunderstanding."

"Yes, actually... we've had fairly good luck. I spoke a bit to the men sword to House Kellington, but all they're seeking is a wife for their lord, and... well, anyway. We've been talking to House Dunn about possibly one of their people heading up to the North, as well." A nod and a smile brightens her face at the revelation. "That's wonderful to hear. I'm sure we'll be able to send military resources to make it equitable if your house is able to help."

"Hahaha! Only if they don't like any fun or challenge. A relationship of equals is much better, eh?" Was his response to that.

As the conversation continued he gave a few nods then stretched, arms behind his back. He rubbed his ears too; the wind was making them cold.

"That all sounds positive. I can't say for sure what the Wydmans are deciding, but I would like to see closer ties between them and yours so I will be supporting that." He murmurs thoughtfully, glancing back to her. "For what measure of influence I have there at least. You'd do well to speak to Lord Wydman personally with his son there to support you. I think that would be the surest way."

She looked a little bit nervous at the prospect, but nods. "That would be wise, I agree... I hope he'll be willing to listen to me, as a fourth-born daughter of my family..."

"You could always invite Lord Marqus to accompany you. I'm sure you would both make a positive impression... of course you would need your father's agreement too." He wondered if perhaps she already had it.

"Marqus had a few things he needed to attend to... hopefully he'll be less busy when it's time," she says, nodding. "My father couldn't make the journey, sadly. I'll have to run things by him once we have a tentative plan, but I don't foresee problems."

"That's... that's good. I would hope so m'lady." It was bad business to agree something and then later find out the other side had no clout to have the agreement enacted. He sincerely hoped that wasn't the case here. Thankfully a long look at Arwyn convinced him she could probably get her way. She certainly would over me.

Smiling mysteriously he pulls away from the drop, walking past Arwyn to stop at the next gap to see if he could see anything different. "I can smell... a weak turnip stew." He announces, starting to look around for it.

She looked back at Tal with absolute confidence. It didn't entirely match her heart, and she was really hoping her father wouldn't argue about whatever they decided... but she truly didn't expect he would. He wouldn't have sent them alone to such a large gathering - wouldn't have sent Marqus to speak with the Master of Ships - if he didn't trust them to look out for the House. She looks confused at his next comment. "You... what?"

"It was some kind of pie for a moment when I stood to your right, but here on your left there is instead the smell of turnip stew. I'm wondering which campfire is cooking it." He replies back quickly without looking. "I pulled a turnip once. It was huge. It helped feed a small group of men for two days."

"Maybe someone's making a pie and a stew," she suggests, sniffing the air herself. "I can't wait until fruit starts growing again. I'd love a pie made from fresh fruit instead of preserves..." The truth was she had a serious sweet tooth.

"A decent apple pie is absolutely wondrous." Tal readily agrees, slowly tilting back away from the drop as he decides the smell is likely drifting from further away than he could easy spot.

Turning about he studies Arwyn with a smile. "What fruits do you like most m'lady?"

"Isn't it?" She sighs, thinking of the flavor as she leans against the wall. "I guess my favorites are berries rather than tree fruit, but raspberries and cloudberries are my favorite. I think the latter are pretty tart on their own, though."

"So, a little honey with them, or...?" He crosses his arms and grins. "It's my first time hearing what sweets a northern lady prefers."

"Well, they're best when made into preserves and used from there," she replies, smiling toward him. "I admit, I like them on their own."

"Good to know." He replies while rubbing his chin. "I suppose an orchard of fruit trees and bushes of berries is a nice thought then? Haha. One day I'll have to secure something like that."

Blinking a few times from a particularly strong gust of wind he turns away from it. "I am going to walk the walls. Yourself Lady Arwyn?"