(121-04-23) FINE.
Summary: Kevyn visits the Garden Isle. It's FINE.
Date: (23/04/2014)
Related: Other ones.

Some time ago, Keyte issued an invitation to a squire who wanted to get a bit fresh — come, play at Boring Isle with us! In the heat of the day, she's taken shade under one of the great oak trees in the garden of said manse, just minding her own business. Sprawled out on her stomach between two large gnarled roots, she's fussing with a pile of freshly-cut flowers and a plain golden wire circlet, sifting through the blooms to find the prettiest of them and weave them around the band. There are, of course, other people milling about; not least of all, a couple of guards looking rather bored over by the stable gate and running through a game of quartz, parchment, shears.

And to Boring Isle comes Ser Kevyn. Not a squire anymore. Maybe this makes his invitation a bit less useable, but he's choosing not to think of it that way. He doesn't look notably different, save that he's wearing the sword belt Viggo gave him with an eagle feather tucked into it. He informs the first guard he comes to that he's come to visit the isle at Lady Keyte's invitation. Will he be allowed in? We shall see.

Nope. Go away.


Just kidding! The taller of the guards looks a bit put out, having offered shears to the shorter's quartz. So it's he who shows Kevyn through to the gardens, not in any fit mood for announcing the newly-made Ser. "Do I have to walk you all the way over?"

"Uh, no, I'm all right, thanks," Kevyn says to the guard. More diffidently than is probably knightly. But, he's new to it yet. He wanders the garden a bit, going over to have a look at the fish. So it takes him awhile to wind his way around to Keyte's oak tree. As he approaches he offers an awkward, "Good day, my lady. I thought I'd…umm…come take in the garden." So exciting a garden it is.

The guard mutters something about kids these days, and trundles back off to turn his losing streak around. All the while, Keyte sifts and winds, creating for herself a very pretty piece of headwear. She is not particularly good at pretending not to see Kevyn as he draws near, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks as her movements stiffen, eyes kept down. Down. She clears her throat over the top of his speaking. I suppose it's safe to look up now? "Uh." Be cool, Keyte. "Hello!" She scrambles to get up, dirt staining the front of her dress that she swipes at quickly. "Ser."

"Uh…" Kevyn repeats that sound as Keyte looks down. He sounds a little confused. "Hello, my lady." That's sort of just a repeat of his initial greeting, so he attempts something more conversation-like. "I wanted to apologize for not having proper words with you at the Sept the other day." When he was being knighted. That day. "My family was present and my father wanted to talk after and that sort of…went…on awhile."

"Oh, no," Keyte continues to swipe at her dress, eyes landing only briefly on Kevyn before they flit away again. "It's alright, I had to… go. Um. You know, do things, and stuff, and…" She trails off, glancing between her feet and the little pile of flowers and her half-decorated circlet on the ground. When she looks up, it's with a rather nervously bright smile. "Congratulations, by the way. That was… quick."

"Oh, yes, the…things," Kevyn says, as if he quite understands Keyte's stuff. He certainly isn't going to ask about it. As for her last question, he shrugs. "Ser Viggo thought it proper, after I'd participated in the fight at the Red Rookery…" He doesn't bother to deny it, to her. "…and the trial. We talked out doing it before that, in case…" He clears his throat and trails off. "…but it didn't seem proper. I'm not sure how I feel about it now, truth be told."

The things. And stuff. Keyte's surely very grateful for your understanding of her things and stuff, Kevyn, even if she doesn't say so. "Oh, of course," she continues on rather quickly, "It was very brave of you, on both counts. I'm…" How to say it tactfully? "Ah, glad. You know. That, ah. You…" She claps her hands together, rocking backwards on her heels as she trails off. "Well, anyway. It's so very nice to see you, of course. Are you… enjoying the garden?"

"Are you?" Kevyn asks, when Keyte says she's glad. She doesn't seem terribly so. Though he goes on to answer the question about the garden. "Aye, my lady, it's very lovely. I've found few lovelier places in Oldtown since I've come here."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Keyte responds with a frown, flashing annoyance at the question. She glances over to a rosebush, trying to find her smile again.

"I…umm…I don't know. You just didn't look it, just then," Kevyn replies. He shrugs awkwardly, and looks away from her while she looks at the rosebush. "It's not what I expected."

There's no smile in that rosebush, so Keyte looks to the one beside it instead. "Well I was — am," she insists, huffing a sigh that also doesn't seem glad. "It's not what I expected, either," she adds, bringing her frown back to Kevyn.

Kevyn meets Keyte's frowning face, though it takes some effort. "I'm still figuring out…what I'm to do with it," he says. "My father offered me a place with our men back home. Aiding with the border patrols. I've no title to inherit so…it's the way he's chosen to serve the family. He thinks it would do for me as well."

Keyte blinks, shock taking over her expression. "Oh," she says quietly, her shoulders starting to droop. "So you're… going. Leaving. You're going to do that?"

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet," Kevyn replies, easing himself down to sit on the grass. "It was nice to be asked. My father's never thought…well, I don't figure he thought much about me at all until my brother got injured. So it was fine to be asked, I suppose. Not sure…well, not sure patroling for Dornishmen is what I want to do with all my days, though."

Keyte is not a very good hostess today, is she. She simply stares at Kevyn as he sits, and stands a moment longer before finally joining him down on the ground. She fusses with her skirts a bit, and reaches for her circlet, intending on going back to her flower-winding to keep her hands busy. "I —" she cuts herself off, swallowing her words as she looks back to the squire. No. Ser. Sheesh. "I'd be a bit sad if you left."

"Would you?" Kevyn almost sounds happy about that. Though he quickly adds, lest she thinks he's happy about potentially making her sad, "I don't wish to. Oldtown's been good to me, in ways things weren't back at my family's keep. I'm not due to inherit anything, so it's not as if I've duties there that someone else can't attend to. And I think Ser Viggo is going to be here a bit longer. Perhaps my cousin Haywood as well. I'm just, well, sort of trying to figure out what I should do with myself here, I suppose. This all…it all came quicker than I expected."

"Just a little bit," Keyte interjects, lest he think she'll be totes dev. Her smile crooks lopsided, just a small, intimate thing. Not the wattage she's known for, not right now. Twirling a flower by its stem between her fingers, she listens, and brings it to her nose to softly breathe in its scent. From behind big, frilly petals, she agrees, "Mhmm. You said it would be a year from now."

"I thought it would be," Kevyn says, just a touch defensively. "It's not really up to me. Things just…lots of things changed after the Blackmont raid. My cousin Haywood's the heir to our family now, though he sometimes speaks of wanting Ser Viggo to take it up." Kevyn sounds pretty dismissive of the latter part. "In any case, if they're both to stay in Oldtown, I figure I could continue to serve them. Though I wouldn't mind striking out on my own. A bit. I was…I was rather wondering if the Tyrells might have some duties they'd want a knight to perform around the city. I mean, they're our liege lords, after all…"

"So did I," Keyte retorts quickly to that hint of defensiveness. You know what she means, Kevyn. Deeming the flower suitable for adorning her hair, she starts to wind the stem gently around her circlet as he speaks of Cockshaw affairs. She stops, however, looking up from her task to bat her lashes in honest surprise at him. "You want to work for my cousins?"

"I mean…it seemed…umm…" Kevyn looks at her a long moment, then flushes and looks down at the grass. "If I were to stay in Oldtown, it might make sense. For a year or two, at least. Until I've proven my spurs a bit and..well…I'd not mind getting in better graces with our family…if I may say…"

"Oh," says Keyte, rushing to attempt some sort of reassurance as Kevyn looks to the grass. "No, I just mean… they're kind of horrible a lot of the time?" If we're being completely honest. Which apparently, she is. Feeling her face start to flush, she darts her head back down to study her circlet. Very closely. "But I'm sure they'll find you a place, if you want it," she continues. "For however long needs be."

"Horrible?" Kevyn shrugs. "Everyone thinks that of their own family, I think. The lords I've met seem like decent enough folk. Ser Laurent was very brave and steadfast with us through the whole mess with the Blackmonts. And Lord Garvin's quite entertaining. And, I think, a better lordship than many think."

"You might change your tune after an evening or two here," Keyte says with a wince, as she finishes the wind of stem around wire. When she looks up, though, it's with another of those little teeny smiles. "Not that Garvin's in attendance at the moment, mind. He took a bunch of men and went to live at his theater."

"He…" This plainly confuses Kevyn. "Umm…why?" In theory he's asking about Garvin.

"Ummm," Keyte hums, a little sing-song. "Well. It's rather a long story," she begins, "But I think it has mostly to do with the Dornish Princess who's now cousin Quill's hostage. He… objects, or some such. He's very dramatic." Hence living in a theater, perhaps. "Or maybe he just wanted some more privacy. He's been spiralling somewhat out of control of late, what with his… well, you know." She leans over to look for another flower.

Kevyn frowns. "I was hoping matters with the Dornish were settled now." He does not, apparently, know, for as much as he tries to say, "Ah, yes, of course" to Keyte, it's followed a beat later by, "His what?"

"Mm," murmurs Keyte, clearly of the same mind regarding matters with the Dornish. "Oh," she says lightly, glancing up from the little pile of flowers. "Um. His… you know." Don't you?

"Oh, uh, yes. Of course. That thing." Kevyn clearly doesn't know. But it doesn't seem polite to press on this subject too much. And maybe it's embarrassing to display his ignorance. So, he doesn't do either of these things. "Anyhow, I was going to try and speak with him about possibly going into service for your House, though perhaps Ser Laurent would be better. If, ummm, you're all right with the prospect of me doing it."

Keyte sighs softly, and hides the roll of her eyes behind a quick flutter of her lashes. "That thing where he runs around ramming his tongue down other men's throats in front of all our houseguests," she explains a little wearily, as she reaches over to pluck a rose from her flower pile. "Don't ask Garvin," she adds rather bossily. "Laurent would be better, yes. It's fine, fine by me, but I don't want to be married and making babies anytime soon, just so you know." Her tone is forcibly light, as she flexes the thick, woody stem of the rose, trying not to make a big deal about what she's just said. Even if she is peeking sidelong at Kevyn.

"Oh…umm…right…that…thing…" That was a lot of things Kevyn didn't really want to visualize. He clears his throat awkwardly and doesn't talk about who or what Garvin may be ramming anymore. He should talk about something else. Of course, the other thing Keyte mentions is getting married and making babies. Which is only marginally better. "Oh…um…all right… He trails off, like he's not sure what else to say. "I mean…I don't either, and I didn't…I mean, you're quite lovely, but…"

"But?" Keyte turns her face, lifting her brows rather offended at Kevyn, for that answer.

Kevyn blinks at Keyte's offended look. He looks hopelessly puzzled, for his part. "But you just said…" He sounds a touch exasperated, but just gives up that line. It would probably not end anywhere good. "All I meant was, I'm still not sure where I'll be a year from now. I mean, your family's been very good to mine, but I don't fool myself. My place within the Cockshaws isn't high and the Tyrells are a grander House than us so…and I still don't know how I want to go about being a knight. I'm not as good as the tourney stuff as Ser Viggo is. My cousin, Lady Alys, has a place in the Watch. Perhaps that might fit better, but I don't know, and I'd like to figure it out before…" He clears his throat. "Not that I wouldn't like to…I'd like to keep getting to know you, if that's all right."

Is that all right? Keyte's brows start to sink as Kevyn further explains himself, her features pressing gradually — but definitely — into a scowl. "So you think it's all right to kiss me, and maybe ruin my reputation, but you're not sure you want to marry me? I'm not some common girl, Kevyn." She sounds cross. She looks it, too, though she's happy to turn her cross look back toward her work. "Hmph."

"I didn't…you were…you just said you didn't…!" Kevyn's sputtering gets more high-pitched than usual, and he still looks very confused. "You were in disguise. Nobody could've seen you, or else I wouldn't have…and I never said I didn't want to marry you, I just don't know that I want to do it now…do you want to marry me?" He doesn't sound at all sure.

Keyte is rather rough with the rose's stem, squishing it horribly and winding it forcefully around her circlet, squashing the head of another, smaller bloom in the process. "Oh, now look what you've done," she huffs, tossing the whole lot aside after giving it a good glare. That same glare she turns on Kevyn, a little heavy on the bottom lip — yes, she's pouting. "Oh, so one minute you don't want to be wed, the next you're proposing? Are you mad?"

"What? No I'm not!" Kevyn stands up abruptly, rather stumbling to his feet. "I am not proposing to you!" He's maybe more emphatic about that than is strictly necessary. "But you said…you…you asked me if…" He finally just huffs, and literally throws up his hands. "Maybe I should. I have things to attend to. So…I'll just leave now. I'll see you later, my lady. If you want."

Keyte does not stand, glaring up at Kevyn from her spot on the ground with her little pile of flowers. "Fine," she announces quite firmly, folding her arms across her chest. That… is all she's going to say, apparently.

"Fine, then," Kevyn calls on his way out, hurrying past the guards, who look annoyed at having their game interrupted again.

Keyte picks up a flower to toss at his back. It arcs to the ground rather short of its mark, BUT WHATEVER.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License