Flower in the Grove (Atroxa & Rivine)

[Atroxa]

Freedom was a rare thing to be cherished and enjoyed, and enjoyed it she did. She knew giving in to her whim and indulging in this flight of fancy would have repercussions, but it would be worth it. They couldn't do any worse to her than they already were and would do. Confined, restrained, bound to honor some promise made by her father to a man she'd never met. It hadn't happened yet, but it would, it was, after all, her lot in life. Or that's what her dear step mother kept telling her. Grow up and accept your fate, fulfill your responsibility to your family. She would, what choice did she had but to forsake her title and go on the lamb? And though she did sometimes fantasize about doing just that, she knew she couldn't. What did she know of caring for herself? No, she was doomed to live trapped between two mindsets. Her father had raised her strong-willed and bold, but now she was expected to be mild mannered and obedient, but she couldn't! Didn't they understand that?

As it were, she was for once not feeling bound by thoughts of duty and responsibility and honor, instead she was flying over the fields, wearing the split skirts her step mother hated so much for riding. A real lady, she told Alyssa every time she put them on, rides side saddle. What she meant was a real lady never spread her legs to ride astride a beast like some wildling. Well, sometimes she wished she had been born a wildling! As it were though, she had been born a Tarly, daughter to Cormac Tarly and his first wife, the late Lillian Ambrose. Really if Alyssa had it her way, she would be wearing trousers and not a skirt at all, but she knew her stepmother would really make her miserable if she did that. Though, what was the point now?

Alyssa had managed to outmaneuver her escort, comprising of her two ladies in waiting and two of her family's knights. If she were a more mature and sympathetic person, she would have thought first of how this would effect them, but she wasn't. She was, admittedly, rather spoiled and self centered, something that everyone blamed on her father, and expected her to shed herself of such unbecoming behavior overnight. Well, she'd so far stubbornly refused, and if anything had become more and more unruly in the last few years. This wasn't the first time that Alyssa had used her fearless riding and knowledge of the land to leave behind her. She knew every trail and every hill, her father had shown them all to her. It was nothing for her to be able to lose anyone so completely in a patch of trees little bigger than a grove as if it were a vast forest.

The copper-red chestnut mare she rode on was well-bred, with a broad blaze down her shapely head, a beauty by any standards. And her rider even more so. Golden blonde like her father, but with her mother's pale blue eyes, and fair skin, she was beautiful, and she knew it. Her curling blonde hair was currently plaited back in a braid, which when still fell down her back, but was currently flying behind her like a banner as her mare sliced through the waist high grass like a boat over water, the hissing swish of grass against the creature's legs and belly, her hooves striking the ground, and the wind rushing past were the only music Alyssa wanted to ever hear again,

She slowed her mare, Braitha, as they neared another clump of trees, an old apple grove, now long overgrown, walking the horse between the trees, feeling the creature panting heavily under her. The mare knew where to go, smelling water on the air, and found her way to the stream that ran through the pocket of trees just off one of the roads that lead to her family's manor. Alyssa dismounted, leaving the reins draped over Braitha's neck so that the horse could drink from the stream and clip at the grass while Alyssa went to a nearby black berry bush she'd visited since childhood.

 

[Rivine]

Galan remained where he was, lounging beneath the apple tree where he had spent the night. He was stretched out upon the grass, his sealskin cloak spread out beneath his to keep the damp off of him that was the result of a light rain that had come on during the night. The light drizzle had been pleasant enough since he had a tree to shelter under, not to mention the cloak which was excellent as repelling rain. But the cloak was not on his mind at the moment, rather it was his next destination. He had been wandering aimlessly for the past week or so, having worn out his welcome at Honeyholt. Really, Lord Beesburry had been far, far to upset. After all, his daughter was married, it was not like she had been a maid. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he thought back on how the woman had pursued him. Not only had she not been a maid, he highly doubted he had been her first lover outside of her marriage. But that was in the past. So was the warm bed and the three meals a day.

Sighing he sat up a bit, his back resting against the tree behind him. He had a bit of food left in his pack, mostly consisting of bread and cheese. But he would need more then that. It was often a crime to hunt or trap game in many of the lands in the south, but he had still kept it up. To him it was ridiculous that a man could not be allowed to put food on his family's table. He knew well that the punishment might be loosing a hand, although he would claim he was willing to take the oath to the Night's Watch before it came to that. Of course he also went by a pseudonym, so it would not be hard for him to slip away and for him to just disappear. Of course that would all imply that he got caught first, which he did not plan on having happen.

Grabbing his pack he quickly fished through it for a few things; twine and a bit of bread. He rose then and checked himself over. His dagger and hand axe were still in place, as was his knife. With the twine and string in hand he wrapped his pack up in his cloak and stored it up in some of the lower limbs of the tree so that it was out of reach of most critters. He then set out into the grove, hoping to find a game trail or two. As he walked through the old grove he could not help but wonder at who might own this land. It was not overly close to any major castles, Horn Hill being the closest, which was well over fifty miles away if he reckoned it correctly. After searching for awhile he found that game trail and set up his traps and baited them, doing three in all about fifty feet apart, if not more.

Having done all of that he moved off down to a stream that he knew was nearby. However he froze when he heard a sound he was not expecting, the sound of a horse breathing. Cautiously he moved out of the trees much further down from the horse. He approached slowly, but the animal heard or smelled him and stopped eating grass. The horse's head rose and he froze. But his eyes drifted from the animal as he noticed motion nearby, then blinked. The long, flowing blonde braid gave it away, as did the material her clothes were made of. Here was a highborn woman. He, on the other hand, in his poor linens and leathers, looked almost light a ruffian. He cleared his throat and called out, "Apologies my lady. I did not expect to find anyone here..."

 

[Atroxa]

Alyssa took a cloth out of her pocket, draping it over her open palm and began the careful process of picking black berries. Her hands were small and slender, but she still had to be cautious of the thorns that grew along the branches of the bush. Snaking her hand about, she plucked the ripe, dark purple berries, dropping them one by one into the cloth on her hand. She take them to the stream and wash them, partially to clean them but partially because the water was cold, and would chill the berries a little, making them even more delicious. As she plucked, she thought about how her step mother would rail on for hours about her misbehavior, demanding her father do something about it. Her father would sigh, and give her some stern words, and do something like tell her she couldn't ride for some time or something like that, but nothing very harsh.

She frowned, thinking about it all. She wouldn't feel the need to run away if they would just leave her alone! She didn't need an armed escort, or her two ninnies of ladies in waiting. All they ever did was talk about dresses and gossip and tell her how she should do this or that to be more of a lady, to catch some man's eye. They were just her step-mother's lackeys. They ran to her every time Alyssa did something they didn't think her step-mother would approve of. Maeghan Wythers was, after all, a real lady, that's what everyone kept telling her. She knew that they were implying, or sometimes just saying it right to her, that she should aspire to be more like her step-mother, but Alyssa had no such plans. No, much to everyone's dismay, especially her uncle, Randyll, Alyssa showed no signs of her step-mother's influence really having much effect on her.

Behind the young woman, Braitha grazed the lush grass that grew by the stream, until interrupted by the stranger. Alyssa didn't seem to notice when she stopped, her back to the man. So when he called out, she jumped, her hand still in the black berry bush, making her jerk and get quite a few scratches on her hand and wrist, and making her drop the black berries she'd gathered. Alyssa let out a string of curses that most ladies would never be able to even imagine then whirled around, glaring angrily, but when she saw the stranger her glare took on a far more suspicious edge and she pulled a dagger from her belt. “Who are you?” She demanded, the placement of her fingers on the dagger hinting that she actually knew how to use it.

 

[Rivine]

Galan was expecting a reaction, but he had not been expecting anything quite like what he got. She started cussing like a sailor, which made him stand still, more then a little bit surprised. The Northerner stood there blinking a bit as she turned on him. The look she gave him probably would have killed him, if looks could do that, and he involuntarily took a step back. It was not that he was afraid of her, but the reaction was just totally unexpected. He had been thinking that he would have to assuage the fears of a frightened girl. Instead she was cursing and glaring at him and... ad pulling a gods damned dagger on him! When he saw her pull the cold steel, he found himself taking yet another step back, although this time he felt no shame in it. After all, an angry woman with a knife could do plenty of damage.

He swallowed slightly when she asked him who he was. Smartly Galan held his hands out to his sides, intending to show that he had peaceful intentions by not going for a weapon, unlike some people. "My name is Galan, Galan Snow," he said to her, her rather unexpected reaction to his arrival causing him to use his real name where, if he had had full possession of his faculties at the moment, he might have give her a false one. He went on second later, "I'm just a traveler, a bard actually. I do not mean you any harm." He watched her closely, hoping that she would not think that he had been lying to her for some reason. The last thing he needed was to get assailed by a teen, a noble teen at that, and have her claim that he had attacked her or some similair load of shit. He continued to hold his hands out to the side as he said in a soft, hopefully soothing tone, "Now how about we put away all the sharp metal objects? I am sure that we can talk, discus things like civilized people."

 

[Atroxa]

Alyssa was not the type to show fear, even when she was afraid, and she was a little afraid of this man. After all, what young woman didn't have tales of bandits and the things they would do to pretty girls shoved into their head to make them fearful? And this man certainly looked a little rough around the edges, so she held her dagger ready. She could tell she at least surprised him, if not made him nervous, which was exactly what she wanted, better to make him just leave if he had some sort of trouble on his mind. His steps away and holding his hands up in surrender put her nerves at ease a little, but it was obvious she was still very suspicious of him.

She eyed him a little when he gave his name and occupation, “A bard? Where is your instrument then?” She asked him suspiciously. Alyssa thought he looked awful rough for a bard, he must not be a very good one. If he was a bard at all. “And I'll put away this dagger when I feel like I have no cause to stick you with it, you've done nothing to prove that except give a name and claim to be a bard,” She told him, her attitude haughty, like any noble. Most of them, including Alyssa, labored under the delusion that they owned everything and anyone that lay on their land, and though her father was not in direct power in their family, he still laid claim to these lands as his, and with Alyssa as his daughter, she held some of that power as well.

 

[Rivine]

He could tell that she was still suspicious of him, but who could blame her? There were not may bandits and highwaymen out on the roads these days, at least in his experience, but there were still enough stories of such people about. More then once he had heard a noble woman telling her husband or others that she had been waylaid by ruffians on the roads, some even insisting that the men had "forced" themselves upon her. But he had seen a few of these same women in taverns claiming to be someone else and acting very much like a tavern wench would, if not even more wanton. Every instance of this had been in the south and he could not help but wonder why these ladies would do what they did. Surely there was a better way to find someone to have sex with. He could not help but wonder if this lass had heard tales from such a woman, one that would lie about being set upon on the roads.

But he had more pressing things to worry about at the moment... like the still naked dagger that was being held threateningly with the wielder's focus on him. He could not say that he liked that much. When she spoke, asking where his instrument was he sighed a bit, then told her, "My instruments are with my pack, which is stored up in a tree. I was just looking for some food," he explained. She spoke again a moment later and sighed. Gods above she was suspicious! Not that he could blame her entirely, but still! "And what reason have I given you for threatening me?" he asked her, then went on, "I announced my presence, rather then sneaking up on you, I have not pulled a weapon on you and now I am standing here and talking to you rather then rushing you and trying to disarm you or do you harm. So, tell me, what have I done to deserve this treatment?"

 

[Atroxa]

Alyssa's experience with the opposite sex was... limited. It was not that she was overly guarded by her father, after all she slipped away like this often and chaperones and guards alike often had a hard time keeping tabs on her, but more a lack of opportunity coupled with a somewhat arrogant mentality. She found most men uninteresting. They were either dim witted, or they thought far too highly of themselves and their charm. Her father's lands were not overly populated, there were farming families and a small community they called a village, but beyond that there were only the manor's servants and workers and guards, most of whom were much older than her if they were male at all. This meant they were either unattractive (balding heads, round bellies, or some other undesirable characteristic), or something like an uncle to her. The few that were around her age were beneath her notice, and the same went for the young men in the countryside. Besides, romance was for women with nothing better to do with their time than swoon over some man. Or that was Alyssa's opinion anyway.

She pursed her lips though when Galan told her that his instruments were with his pack, which she supposed made since, and then provided a very good argument as to why she was overreacting by keeping that dagger ready to stab him. Alyssa frowned at him when he asked her to tell him what he'd done to deserve such hostile treatment, pursing her lips as she thought for a moment. “You made me drop my black berries,” she said, motioning to the now scattered handful of ripe fruit at her feet. But a smirk managed to break her frown, betraying the humor behind her words, and she put the dagger back into it's sheath. “You should be careful sleeping in these woods, there are bear and wolves about, and they can't be reasoned with,” she told him, picking her handkerchief off the ground and shaking the dirt and grass off of it then looking at her scratched hand and wrist with a sigh.

 

[Rivine]

Galan blinked a bit when she gave him the reason for her hostility, completely stunned. Was she being....? His thought was cut off though when he saw her smirk and then he could not help but laugh a bit. "Oh, that is just cruel," he said to her, smiling as she sheathed the dagger. But now that the sharp steel was put away he could not help but relax a bit and let out a soft sigh of relief. He was rather glad that he was able to talk her down and avoid a more unpleasant confrontation. He would really have not liked tousling with her. After all, it would have been hard to explain to her father or others why she might have returned on her horse, just tied down across the saddle.

When she spoke again, saying that the woods were dangerous due to there being bear and wolves, he arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?" he asked her, then went on, "That is very rare here in the south. Most of your woodlands are tamed and free of such predators. When was it the last time you have seen one of them?" He had not heard the howling of wolves the night before, a noise that he would have recognized. There was more then a little bit of skepticism in his mind. He had slept in dozens of woods since he had come south of the Twins and he had heard barely any howls since then and certainly none at all in the Reach.

But his mind moved away from such things when he noticed her looking at her hand and wrist, which he finally realized were scratched up. He winced a bit in sympathy, then spoke to her, "You know, I have a poultice back in my pack that would help with that," he offered her. The poultice had been in his pack since he had left the Citadel in Old Town, but he had kept it fresh. "It was made by one of the maesters in the Citadel," he told her softly, then added, "It should do well to help those mend quicker."

 

[Atroxa]

Alyssa was amused by his reaction, obviously a little confused and taken aback, before he realized she was joking, and then seemed both relieved and amused himself. She laughed softly when he told her that her joke had been cruel and shrugged her shoulders. Maybe it had been a tad, but she'd been amused by it none the less, and he didn't seem terribly offended either. She would like to see him try to tie her to Braitha's saddle. She was small and delicate looking, but Alyssa had been taught to fight. She'd been a surrogate son to her father for the first ten years of her life, she'd played with swords instead of dolls, learned to ride instead of sew, and run around in trousers instead of dresses. She was not as strong as a man, but she was just as capable.

She shrugged her shoulders a little as he questioned her about the bears and wolves, “The bears are mostly small black bears, not as aggressive as the monsters you have up north, but they can still do some damage. And the wolves are rare now thanks to the farmers hunting them, but they still come through every so often.” Her father's lands were more remote than some in the south, leaving the dangers a little more intact than in the more densely populated areas.

Alyssa looked at the bard though when he told her that he had a poultice he could put on the scratches to help them heal, considering his offer for a moment before giving a bit of a nod, “I would appreciate that, thank you.” She told him, walking over to Braitha and taking the mare's rains, giving a grunt with the effort it took to pull her head from the grass. The horse gave an annoyed swish of her tail but followed along after her rider, Alyssa following Galan, her mouth on a particularly deep cut on the back of her hand, licking the wound to soothe it the stinging sensation.

 

[Rivine]

The laughter that the two of them hared helped to ease the tension that had filled the air. He felt much of the stress and worry that he had been feeling before washing out of him as he chuckled a bit more. His mind focused on the issue of bears and wolves, answering her comments with a shrug of his own. "Well I have not heard any howls and, to be honest, I have never known a wolf to attack a man. Bears on the other hand are another matter. Thank you for the warning," he said to her. Considering all that she had told him it might be prudent for him find somewhere to stay the night outside of the wood that night.

When she responded to his offer to provide her with a poultice, agreeing and thanking him, he inclined his head. "It is the least I could do," he said to he, then smirked and joked, "After all, I must make amends for you dropping your berries." It was a bit of a jab at her, since she had been the one to drop them after all. He waited for her to get her horse's reins in hand, the lead her down the stream. He crossed the shallow yet fast flowing water easily, since where he crossed it only came up to his ankle.

It did not take him long to lead her to the tree he had slept under and in which his things were stored. He clambered up the tree quickly enough and retrieved his pack. He came down and knelt once he was back under the ground, undoing the cloak and unwrapping it from around the pack. He then lay the pack on the cloak and opened one of the pockets on it, pulling out a small jar that was sealed with leather and a cord. He undid the cord and took off the leather cover, then brought the jar up to his face, smelling the poultice. "Yep, it is still good," he informed her, then stood, moving over to her and saying, "Hold out your hand."

 

[Atroxa]

Alyssa wouldn't have dropped the berries if he hadn't startled her, so she fully thought him responsible for that, but he hadn't said aloud that he thought himself blameless, so she said nothing else on the matter. She merely nodded her head a little, following along after Galan with Braitha's reins in hand, the mare plodding along beside her. She hopped across the stream, which Braith just walked through, uncaring, and then followed him to the tree where he had tucked away his things, Alyssa standing with her horse, running a hand down the mare's head while she waited. Braitha's eyes drooped and she leaned against her human a little, then started a little and straightened when Alyssa moved.

She looped Braitha's reins back over her neck and went to Galan, holding out her right hand. It had numerous scratches on the back of her hand and around her wrist and though none of them were very bad, they were already starting to look a little inflamed. After all, the brambles of a black berry bush weren't exactly clean. “You've been to Old Town recently?” She asked him curiously, “But you're from up North, yes? Being a bard you probably get to travel a lot.” Her tone made it clear she was slightly envious.

She had been to Old Town of course, she and her family went at least once a year for the annual tourney, she'd used to love it as a child, she'd been able to run about and play. Now though, she was forced into some terribly uncomfortable dress that was the height of fashion in Old Town, and paraded about by her step mother like a mare for sale, and expected to behave like a perfect lady. Unfortunately for her step mother, when it came time to watch the tourney, no amount of glares and bad looks could restrain Alyssa's enthusiasm, especially if she managed to sweet talk her father into letting her indulge in some wine.

 

[Rivine]

When the younger woman held out her hand to him he moved forward. He dipped a finger into the poultice and warned her softly, "This might sting a little." He then began to spread the poultice on her wounds, noting how the wounds had started to inflame slightly. His knowledge of human anatomy was more advanced then most, even when compared to nobles who had had "schooling" and he knew well that the inflammation might be an indication of sickness to come. But the poultice, he though, should be able to nip the possible sickness in the bud before it could bloom, for it contained wine, brudock, willow, salt and honey. The poultice had worked well for him in the past, but he could not make it as well as the maester who had created this batch.

Galan nodded a bit when she asked him if he had been to Old Town recently. "Aye," he said, continuing to work to spread the poultice on her open wounds. He next question was answered initially with yet another nod, then he replied, "I am from the North. The Neck actually. But I do travel quite a bit." He paused for a bit, concentrating on spreading the poultice over a particularly deep scratch. After a pause for that he continued to speak, "I actually came back south partially because a maester in Old Town had asked me for several plants that can only be found in the neck. I often run such errands for him, since he pays well. Of course he likes having someone that is not ignorant of the properties of the plants he wants so that those properties might be preserved properly." He chuckled a bit, then said softly, "So I suppose I am more then a bard. A alchemical assistant. A writer. An occasional warrior. A student."

Soon enough he finished putting the poultice on her, then he said to her, "Remain still. I need to put a bandage on it." He covered the poultice with the leather again and once more bound it in place with the cord. That done he stored it in his pack and then retrieved a linen bandage. Galan moved back over to her then and quickly bandaged her hand and wrist, cutting the bandage deftly with his knife when needed. Soon enough the bandage was in place, tight and secure. He looked into her eyes then and said softly, "Well, that should do it. But watch that inflammation. If it gets worse, your maester should know what to do."

 

[Atroxa]

Alyssa nodded a little at his warning, but still winced a little when he began applying the salve to the scratches on her hand and wrist. After the initial sting though it wasn't so bad and she relaxed, watching him. His touch was light and gentle and she was sure that if it weren't for the soft sting of the poultice, she'd likely find this enjoyable. Her knowledge on human anatomy was fairly limited, she knew how people worked, and she knew the places to go for to kill or disable an opponent but that was about it. It had never been a subject she was overly interested in. She listened though as he answered her questions, telling her where he was from and that he did travel a lot. Alyssa nodded a little, thinking it would be nice to travel. She rarely got to do so. It had never bothered her over much as a child, she'd been happy to explore her father's lands, often by his side, now though she grew restless. Unfortunately any time she did get to leave her step-mother turned it into an opportunity to try and catch some lord's interest for Alyssa's hand.

She blinked a little though when Galan told her that he'd come back south to get plants for the maester in Old Town, and informed her that he was more than just a bard, but a number of other things. “My, you're talented,” she laughed softly, finding it fascinating that he knew about so many things. Alyssa felt dull by comparison. She could ride and fight, but she wasn't overly talented at much else, except getting into trouble. She stayed still when he instructed her to, letting him bandage her hand, watching him curiously. Alyssa returned his gaze when he told her to watch the inflammation, nodding a little, “I'll keep an eye on it.” She promised, lifting her hand and flexing her fingers a little, testing the bandage.

The she looked back to Galan, brows raised, “You are a bard, and you obviously need some where to stay for the night,” she told him, “You should come with me to my father's manor. We rarely have the treat of entertainment. Well, we have a few servants who play, but they're not bards.” Meaning they were mediocre at best, nice to listen to, but not overly interesting or inspiring. “I should be returning anyway, I'm not really supposed to be here...” Alyssa confessed. She was already dreading the tongue lashing she'd receive from her step-mother for this.

 

[Rivine]

Galan had to give the young woman credit, for she handled the application of the poultice admirably. He had known grown men who had taken applications of such things far worse then she did. Soon enough she was saying that he was rather talented, which caused him to shrug a bit. "Well all of it was not by choice," he told her softly. He did not elaborate at that point, mostly because that would be getting into things of a far, far more personal nature. Considering that they had just met he was not yet ready to tell her everything about himself. He had already told her far more then he would most people, but he did not think that it was necessary to go on at the moment. When she said that she would keep an eye on the inflammation, he nodded. "Good. It might not be bad to have the wound washed out with wine after a few days."

He moved back to his pack, kneeling once more as he put the linen for the bandages away. As he did so she spoke, saying that he would need somewhere to stay for the night. This piqued his interest and he looked up at her, arching an eyebrow. This certainly was not something that he expected. She went on, saying that her father's manor was close, more or less offering him a place to stay. Galan arched an eyebrow and rose, picking up his pack and cloak as well. The bard considered for a moment, then nodded ever so slightly, speaking softly, "It would be nice to spend a night under a roof again, even if only for a night." He flashed her a smile as she went on once more, "Well then, shall we be on our way perhaps?"

 

[Atroxa]

Alyssa was tougher than she looked, and while the poultice certainly stung, and her hand felt very uncomfortable with it sitting down in her cuts, it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. She looked at Galan curiously though when he said that not all of his skills had been learned by choice, her brow furrowing a little and wondering what he meant. She assumed he meant he'd had to learn those things to survive, she wasn't blind, after all, to the struggle just to make it to the next day many people had to go through. She wondered about the specific circumstances but she didn't think it would be polite to ask. Alyssa could be a little overbearing at times, arrogant and obnoxious, but she was rarely rude on purpose unless she disliked some one. And Galan hadn't done anything to make her dislike him, yet.

She smiled a little when he accepted her offer of a place to stay, getting his things. She nodded and walked back to Braitha, gathering the mare's reins and walking alongside her, expecting Galan to join her. She didn't ride so he could keep up. Alyssa lead them out of the small grove and back out onto the packed dirt road that would lead them to her father's manor. The walk there, she asked him for news from Old Town and whatever else he thought important enough to pass on. As remote as this place was, they generally got news far later than everyone else, it seemed. If they got any news at all. Alyssa often felt like she never heard many things that happened out in the world.

Finally though the place came into sight as they rounded a bend in the road, emerging from behind another grove of trees. It was a sturdy, low stone structure, only two stories, with a homely look. Obviously not a place expecting trouble or attack. It had a low stone wall around it, and a few arrow slots could be spotted among the walls, but for the most part, it was open and welcoming. Alyssa grew quiet as they neared, and her face became hard, preparing herself. Sure enough as soon as they passed through the open gate of the low stone wall a woman with long brown hair came out of the main door of the manor, marching towards Alyssa and Galan. She didn't even seem to see the young man though, green eyes fixed instead on Alyssa. She was a pretty woman, she'd maybe even be beautiful if she wasn't wearing a scowl that would frighten a gargoyle, hands lifting her skirts a little so she could walk quickly without tripping over them.

“Alyssa Tarly!” She snarled as soon as she was close, “What do you think you are doing leaving behind your escort? Again!”

Alyssa gave a nonchalant shrug, but her eyes were enraged, “They were going too slow. It's not my fault Hannah and Beatrice are so scared of messing up their hair they won't go faster than a walk.”

Maeghan Wythers opened her mouth, looking like she was about to start screaming, but then she noticed the young man standing on the other side of Braitha, and she faltered. A smirk curled Alyssa's mouth. Her step-mother was all about appearances, and it was most unbecoming, in the older woman's eyes, for a woman to be shouting and arguing. “Who is this?” She asked, visibly trying to calm herself.

 

[Rivine]

Galan walked along with her, taking in the sights as they walked along the road. This land was indeed more wild then much of the Reach, but it still did not compare to the land that he had called home for much of his life. But then again, nowhere compared to the Neck. There was nowhere where there was so much marsh or bog. He often found himself missing the smell, the sound of a lizard-lion hissing, the chase when pursuing game, the challenge inherit in making his way through the swamps.

As he caught sight of the manor that was his companion's home, he could not help but look at it with a strategic eye. The manor was placed on a hill, the largest one around for miles he realized as his eyes scanned the area around them once more. The manor itself was not overly tall, seemingly constructed as a home more then a defensive structure. But the wall around it, short as it may have seemed, indicated otherwise. He could not help but wonder how deep the foundations of the wall were set. He would not have been surprised if they were far deeper then one would expect. This would be a boon in a time of war, since all the lord of the place would need to do is have his people dig away the hillside in front of the wall to make the fortification more imposing. Of course that also required time. If that was indeed the case, then it was clever in one sense, foolish in another. But he already knew his curiosity would compel him to find out if he was right.

Before to long they had made their way up the hill and were passing through the gate and into the manor's courtyard. The bard looked around, noting how well kept the place was. Her father certainly did not seem like a man to be lax about things, but then again he was a Tarly. A Tarly... A memory came to him then, a memory of a story his father had once told him about a Tarly that he had fought during the war. It was not one that was flattering to the Tarlys though, so perhaps he would have to save it for when he was visiting Dorne or somewhere else where the Tarlys were not liked overly much.

But his thoughts were pulled away from the tale when a woman came storming out of the manor. He halted when Alyssa did, arching an eyebrow as the woman started to berate the young woman beside him. He took a step back, not wanting to get dragged into the squabble that was erupting between the two women. One thing he had learned long ago was to not pick a fight with a woman... and getting involved in a fight that was between two women was even a worse idea. But when the older woman looked at him and asked who he was, he shot a glance at Alyssa. He saw her smirk and wanted to groan. Well, now he was a part of it, whether he liked it or not.

Holding back a sigh of frustration he stepped forward, bowing to the woman who asked who he was and spoke, "I am Owain milady, a simple bard." He shot Alyssa a glance then, giving her a look that said that she should not correct him. His gaze moved back to the noblewoman then and he gave her a charming smile, "And I, sadly, do not know your name milady..."

 

[Atroxa]

Her father likely wouldn't appreciate the Tarly tale that Galan knew, Alyssa would find it entertaining, but her pride was not so prickly as he father's or uncle's. In some ways it was, she was, after all, a noble, and certain had an attitude of entitlement at times. In other ways though, she was far more grounded than many other nobles. It all depended on the subject and the person she was talking to really. She knew though, that her family had several famous warriors through the line, and that some had had less than flattering reputations. After all, part of her studies had been learning her family's history, and she'd gotten the less academic version of many of these individuals and occurrences from the commoners she had had contact with growing up.

Alyssa wasn't thinking much on family history at the moment though, giving Galan a confused, inquisitive look when he gave the name 'Owain', instead of Galan. She said nothing though at the look he gave her, frowning a little, but keeping quiet. Her stepmother glanced between them, but didn't seem to catch the exchange of looks, before looking back to 'Owain', inclining her head slightly, “I am Maeghan Tarly, Lord Cormac Tarly's wife.” She told him, looking back to Alyssa, “How is it you have brought a bard home with you?” she asked the young woman, adopting the habit nobility had of talking about commoners as if they were there.

“He was staying in one of the groves and needs a place to stay, I offered him our hospitality,” She answered.

Maeghan frowned, but she wouldn't retract an offer of hospitality just to spite Alyssa, she knew her husband wouldn't appreciate that at all, so she looked back to Galan. “Very well then, come, I'll have a servant show you to a room,” she told him before she looked to Alyssa, “You, young lady, will put Braitha away, and then go see your father.” Alyssa held back a sigh, glancing at Galan before she walked away, leading her mare. Maeghan walked away as well at brisk pace, going back through the main doors she'd come out of before, and stopping the first servant she saw, “You, show our guest to a room,” she told the man tersely, looking at Galan, “I'm sure my husband would be delighted if you joined us for dinner tonight, I'll send a servant for you when the meal is ready.” She inclined her head again before walking away.

 

[Rivine]

Galan had caught the look that Alyssa flashed him when he had give a different name, but he decided not to show any further reaction to it. He had his reasons for doing so and would tell her of them later, but, for now, it could wait. He was glad that her stepmother had not caught on to the looks that the two exchanged, if she had then this entire stay here might have been tits up from the beginning. Soon enough the woman was introducing herself and he put on a charming smile. "A pleasure milady, truly those I have met on the road that you have hosted before did you no credit. You are far more beautiful then those tales could possibly begin to describe," he said to her and flashed her a winning smile.

Not that it really did anything. He had been attempting to distract the woman's attention from he stepdaughter, but it was all for naught. Well, it seemed that charm was not the solution every time. Gods damn the woman was crossed up it seemed. What had happened between these two to create such animosity? He remained silent as the two spoke, deciding that right now it would not be the best idea to step in between the two of them. Galan would have to talk to Alyssa about this, that much he was sure of. If he was going to help her out. However he did not have a chance at the moment.

When the lady next spoke it was to agree to give him a room andd then to dismiss the young woman. He glanced at Alyssa, sympathy in his eyes, his gaze catching hers as she glanced back to him as she lead her horse away. He moved along then, following Lady Tarly as she walked toward the main doors of the keep. The woman was not the most pleasant company he had ever had and she seemed to have complete disdain for Galan. He was rather sure that the woman was one of the many nobles who had no respect for their lessers. Undoubtedly if she knew that he was a bastard on top of it that would not help things at all.

It was not too long before Maeghan handed him off to a servant, the first servant that they came across in fact. As she looked at him and told him that her husband would be delighted for him to join them, he inclined his head. "It would be my pleasure milady," he said simply. As she walked away he turned his gaze to the servant, then smiled, "Would you mind leading the way to a free room please?" The young man was in his teens, his first facial hair forming, and he nodded, then turned away and began walking. Galan followed him to a room that was just slightly off the main hall. It was simple, containing a bed, a table with a basin and a wardrobe, which was a lot more then he imagined most of the servant's rooms hand. He looked to the lad and dug into his purse, flipping him a silver. "Thank you," Galan said, offering the lad a smile.

He moved into the room then and quickly stowed his things away, including his weapons save for his dagger. Galan then paused and considered. What should he do? He had no clue where Alyssa might be, or her father for that matter, who she had been instructed to see. He sighed a bit, then sat down on the bed to think for a moment about what he should do next...

 

[Atroxa]

Alyssa stood in her father's chambers, her head slightly lowered and her eyes cast on the ground, looking contrite and humble. It was mostly an act, one she fell into easily when her father was trying to reprimand her from something she'd done. She knew that he knew it wasn't genuine, but perhaps he hoped that it was, because he never seemed to call her on it, and he never seemed to act as if he suspected she really felt no remorse what so ever for being willfully disobedient. Sometimes she hoped that his stern lectures were just a front as well, that she wasn't the only one who didn't get the big deal, and that he was just doing this to appease his wife.

Still though, she stood there as Lord Cormac Tarly lectured her. “I hope you realize you not only put yourself in danger but you've made your hand maids and guards look bad as well. Why should I those guards in employment if they can't do their job?” He asked, frowning at her. Alyssa did feel a twinge of guilt at that, she liked most of the guards, she'd known some of them most of her life. She didn't care about her hand maids though, they could drop dead for all she cared. Their only benefit was that they were fun to scare. Alyssa enjoyed finding bugs or frogs or other critters to throw on them or leave in their beds. Childish perhaps, but oh so satisfying.

Her father sighed, and shook his head, his blonde beard chased with gray and the top of his head shining through the thing remains of his hair. “I never know what to do with you Alyssa, I don't understand...” He frowned and Alyssa felt a flash of anger at him. He didn't understand what? Why she acted out so much? Perhaps because her entire life he had raised her to be one way, and then he got married and expected her to be some one completely different. She didn't understand why she had to be escorted on rides about the countryside, she'd grown up with her father showing her every secret trail, every grove, every hill and field. Rarely had they had more than a single guard with them, and never had she felt any sense of danger in their lands.

Cormac rubbed his forehead, his other hand on his hip. “I hear you brought a friend back with you,” He changed the subject, obviously tired of talking at his daughter.

Alyssa nodded, “Yes, a bard by the name of Owain,” she said, using the name Galan had given to her stepmother. “He was sleeping one of the groves so I invited him to stay here, I thought you would like having a bard stay for a while,” She explained.

Cormac nodded his head, “It has been some time since we had a bard in the hall, not since Old Toby passed on. Very well, go on, I'm done with you. No riding for a month though. And I'm sure your step mother will have something for you to do with your time instead.”

Alyssa let out a loud sigh and frowned as she left, feeling annoyed. Maeghan would have her do something like needlepoint or etiquette lessons. As it were though, she saw no reason to go find her, or to return to her own rooms, so instead she headed for the guest wing, asking a passing servant where the bard had been placed. She knocked on his door, waiting for him to answer.