(121-04-23) Retail Therapy
Retail Therapy
Summary: Sera and Keyte. Shopping and gossiping.
Date: (23/04/2014)
Related: FINE
Players:
Sera..Keyte..

Oldtown Square, Oldtown

The afternoon has started to cool off, and some of the merchants in the square are starting to eye up the comers and goers versus the sun's angle, hoping for the end of their working day. Over by a blacksmith's stall, a young girl in vibrant blue and shining gold is frowning, pawing at her face as she deliberates over items that she — surely — has no need of. Daggers, swords, tooled leather housings; all manner of casual weaponry are under her scrutiny. The few attendants she has with her are cloaked in green and gold, suggesting perhaps the overlords of the Reach, if anyone's looking.

What a glorious day for a shopping trip. Sera moves through the crowds with a guard and a handmaiden, the latter of which is carrying baskets of bought items - cloth, combs, trinkets, so many things. Sera has gone a bit overboard in her retail therapy though it still doesn't seem to have lifted her mood much. The blacksmith's stall catches her attention curiously, but the lady hmming and hawing is what causes Sera to pause. She cants her head curiously before approaching finally. "Pondering which weapon to use to stab some poor man's heart?"

She's been pondering over a sheath for the past few moments, though it's a generic sort of item; will fit your broadsword or smaller, neatly stitched but nothing special. Keyte is practically relieved by the approach of a fresh face, her maids and guards stepping back graciously (and gratefully, truth be told) to foster the social interaction. "Oh," laughs the Tyrell girl, a hand draped over her own heart. "Ah, well. I was rather hoping to mend his heart, but I suppose… there are some fine weapons, here," she gives a nod to the stall's tender, who bears a broad smile for the acknowledgement. "My lady. And you, you seem to've been shopping up a storm!"

"And yet I am not satisfied," bemoans Sera as she looks over the weapons as well. "Maybe something sharp and pointy will help ease me," and oh does she grin at the thought. "I am not sure weapons are a way to mend a heart, though perhaps he will be the type to appreciate it; in which case hold him tight, there aren't many like him." She scrunches her nose at that before glancing towards the tender with her own smile. She then reaches for one of the smaller daggers, lifting it up and studying the sharpness as she runs a finger against the blade. Ow, sharp enough. She places the cut finger against her lip before peering at Keyte. "I was going to help but perhaps I am don't have the best judgement when it comes to sharp things."

Keyte chirps a bright laugh at Sera's expression of dissatisfaction. It is perhaps one she can relate to, despite her lack of worldly burdens acquired this trip? She is warm, and friendly at the least, tucking a little closer to the unknown redhead and murmuring a soft 'mhmm' for her judgment. As she examines the dagger and cuts herself - "Oh," exclaims the Tyrell softly, concern ringing in her voice as she peers helplessly at the injury. "Oh, are you quite alright? Gracious, I'm sorry!"

"Why are you sorry, my Lady?" Sera returns with a laugh. "It's just a small scratch," she shows her the cut and though a thin line of red appears it is definitely not going to kill her any time soon. Hopefully. "I was the idiot who thought I could show off by dragging my finger against a sharp blade. That should be number one in my lesson plan." She snickers softly at that before dipping in a curtsey, "Lady Sera Florent," she introduces herself before glancing back at Keyte and murmuring in a conspiratory voice, "Although I suppose I won't be known as Lady of the Blades any time soon."

"Oh, but my dawdling and considering were your prompt, my lady," Keyte insists, her skirts billowed in a curtsey in kind to the Florent. "Keyte," she says simply, "Keyte Tyrell. I hope it doesn't sting, lady Sera! I'm truly… Gods, but I think I'm out of sorts today. And mayhap for a few days prior, come to it. I suppose you're related to pretty Florent boy my cousin's taken a liking to?" And for this much, she's blushing bright red and apologetic.

"Ah! My cousin and your cousin, a love to inspire the ages," Sera mutters a touch sarcastically before she chuckles. "They seem awfully fond of each other. I would be jealous if it weren't for-…" she pauses as she tries to consider how she may put it delicately. Giving up, the Florent girl lifts her shoulders in a helpless shrug. Placing the blade back on the stall, she wraps the injured hand into a fist. "But yes, Lord Arion is my cousin. Why are you so out of sorts, my Lady Keyte?"

Keyte snorts, for trying to hold back another torrent of laughter. "For… their lack of discretion, my lady? We are so used to Garvin's… predilections, of course. I'm so very sorry if their…" She leans in to lower her voice startlingly, "… dalliance, has caused you or yours any ill." Straightening again, the dark-haired girl turns her attentions back to the stall as she speaks. "Oh, you know. It's been an unsettling month or so for my House and our vassals," she explains, pointing out a blunted greatsword that's rather exorbitantly priced to the stallholder. Clutching at straws, here. "And more recently, I think I've offended someone I… well. Care more for than I'd like to admit, between you and I, lady." She glances aside with Serious Girl Eyes, Sera Florent. You know what she means.

"Yes!" Sera returns with a laugh. "Lack of discretion! Perfect, thank you. And it is no more a fault of your cousin than it is mine. Apparently it is bound to happen once in every family." She then turns to fully face Keyte as her eyes widen. "Ah yes, your house! Your Ser Laurent was at the Trial wasn't he? And then there was that Peacock business," she pauses before adding, "Our families seem to share similar tragedies-…" But nevermind that, Serious Girl Eyes has captured Sera's interest and her own widen to saucer size as she lowers her voice. "What has happened? I can't imagine you offending anyone, Lady Keyte. Maybe I can help?"

"Pray only once," Keyte retorts, mock-grave. Truly, she doesn't mind so much the act, but the brazenness must bother her some. "Oh yes," she moves on quickly, accepting the rather large sword with some awkwardness from the vendor. "Cousin Laurent, and cousin Quill. Ser Addam fought for the accused, didn't he?" She has the Florent knight's name wrong, not that she knows it. Her brow is quickly creased, both for the weight of this damned sword (it's not unwieldly, but certainly heavier than she expected) and for the mention of — "Peacock?" The greatsword pendulums in her grasp, blade pointed the ground. "I… well, gracious, it's a very long story. Do you have a good few hours to hear it, lady?"

As soon as Keyte takes the sword from the vendor, Sera takes a massive step back and away from the sharp blade, just in case. "Ser Abram," she corrects Keyte with a wide and proud grin. "He managed beautifully." She is all aglow as if she was the one who swung the blade. "Both of our cousins did well actually. It was a heart-wrenching fight." When it appears that Keyte isn't aware of the Peacock, Sera's expression darkens as well. "Another long story, though it can be shortened. Lord Garvin and Lord Arion were robbed, apparently by a very tall man with dark hair and grey eyes, who, for some odd reason, kept dropping black peacock feathers. But nevermind that," she waves her hand dismissively, "I am more concerned of your story - I have all the time in the world, my Lady, and I dare not spend it all on my own thoughts or I would drive myself mad. Madder than I already am."

It's not killing-sharp, but the step back is certainly warranted. "Abram?" Keyte sounds doubtful, although she defers with a quick nod to accept correction. "He fought with Laurent against Maelys Targaryen, aye?" Just in case they have different cousins in mind, you know. "I… had not heard of this Peacock," she admits worriedly, and though the story is intriguing, she's far more self-centred than all that. "Well," she begins, giving a shake of her head to the merchant and handing the sword back that she might take Sera's arm, most presumptuously. "I doubt you're mad, lady, but regardless: once upon a story, a lady met a squire, who was so very handsome and chivalrous, but perhaps a little… shy, I suppose."

"Abram," Sera assures Keyte with a snicker before clearing her throat. "Yes! And he was the one who made sure Ser Laurent didn't do something that others would regret." When her arm is grabbed, Sera looks a touch surprised before moving to tuck in against Keyte, tipping her head upwards to hear her better. "Ooh, I /like/ stories." Though mentioning that the squire was shy has popped a red eyebrow upwards.

Abram. Addam. Keyte was sure she had the right of it, but a Florent would know better! Her brows loft instead of her shoulder shrugging, a measure more subtle. If you say so, Sera. "He's — was," the Tyrell corrects herself, in keeping with the story, only to sigh and continue as she leads the other girl away from the stall: "Is very brave. He rescued the little lord Hightower at the festival of dolphins. I was bit by one, did you know?" It is rare these days to find fresh ears for that tale. "Well anyway. His tremendously brave and newly knighted self came a-calling today, you see." And here is where her problem really starts.

"Such bravery is hard to come by," Sera murmurs dejectedly as she follows along with Keyte, their people lagging behind them but eventually following suit. "It seems like noble men are more likely to end up on stage than with a sword these days." Tsk tsk. "You were bit? By a /dolphin/?" She wants to know that bit too! But-but…the story. "This studly Knight," Her lips widen into a broad and secretive grin, "seeking the lady fair?" Just like in the fairy tales.

"Oh, I don't think he's much for the stage," says Keyte with a firm shake of her head, her smile betraying some quiet delight. THANK THE GODS. "— I was, aye! Right on my hand, lady," she confirms, showing her free hand as though it might still bear the mark. It doesn't. And in truth, it could have actually been the other hand bit, but that's no fun for the story, is it? She flushes, ducking her head further than needs be to glance down at the shorter lady on her arm. "Well, yes. He came to ask for a position within the house so he didn't have to leave town, and I somehow turned it into a temper tantrum about being wed before I was ready," she groans. Her misstep is fresh, and still pains her desperately.

Ooooo. Ouch! Sera winces herself as she shakes her head. "Did he come in asking for your hand while seeking position for the house? Or did he expect that once he has such a position that he would automatically wed you? Believing that if he is married to you it means that his position is secure?"

Keyte shakes her head to both, with much regret evident. "I think neither, upon reflection," she shares sadly, she shoulders starting to droop. "He's very sincere. And did I mention handsome? But mostly, sincere. I'm not sure he thought us marrying were even… likely, much as I'd thought on it." And oh, the pain. Keyte spends a moment in positive embarrassment, rushing on to save herself from the villainy she's painted. "So I came to find him a gift, to apologise with. Only, what in all the Kingdom do you buy a newly-made knight who's probably positively horrified by you?"

"Horrified is a very strong word, Lady Keyte," Sera offers with a little chuckle. "I am sure it can't be that bad! Perhaps just letting him know it is a misunderstanding? As for blades and weaponery for a Knight, well, I am sure he will have to see them for himself to see if he would even like it. No, I don't think a broadsword or a long sword or any sword would do." She then lets out a long hmm, eyeing Keyte curiously. "As a Knight I am sure he had thought of it, especially if he was courting you to begin with, why else would he do it after all? But perhaps he simply wishes to stand on his own two feet before he places his cloak on your shoulders-…Ah!" Her teal eyes widen as a look of triumph etches itself across her face. "That's it! A cloak pin or fastener! That hardly seems like a thing a Knight would think about, but it is surely something his lady may ensure that he wears. Perhaps one bearing his coat of arms but in Tyrell colors?"

A beat before she adds, "Or perhaps a dolphin being speared?" she teases lightly. It would be less obvious than marking him with the Tyrell's colors.

"He… stormed out while we shouted 'fine' at each other," Keyte confides lowly, because it is obviously that bad in her eyes. And perhaps in the happening, too. She'd be wringing her hands, were it not for the Florent she's clinging to, so she toys with her skirts with her free hand instead. "I've encouraged him, I suppose," she's loathe to say. "Not… unintentionally, but… oh, do you think?" She blinks once, twice, considering, and laughs as she's teased. "Oh, but I couldn't, on either of those counts," she says with a smirk, "But perhaps some generic… but pretty? Cloak pin?"

"Oooo, a /fine/," Sera murmurs with a wince before she grins back towards Keyte. "I think a cloak's pin would be a wonderful addition, something he can always wear and think of you. And yes, make it something sentimental for him though, so that you would tug on his heartstrings - sentimental, or shy Knights, seem to like that very much." It is obvious that Sera doesn't really get it herself, but she looks back up at the taller lady. "And you may have encouraged him but he came on his own free will; he was courting as much as you were accepting. It is a two-way street but the fact that you wish to apologize, well, you are already better off than half the married people I know."

"Oh, stop that," Keyte scolds, rather more familiar than she should be. It's with a smile, though, a good-natured thing. "Oh," she repeats, flushing again at the mention of heartstrings. This is only ridiculously awkward, to her mind, made worse by Sera's mention of the m-word. "I've no intention of marrying him," she assures, relenting quicker than she means to, "Anytime soon. I just don't want him to… you know." She jostles the Florent, nudging into her. You know. "Leave." A beat. "Maybe I should just go find him and tell him I'm sorry."

Sera is jostled, but latching on hard to Keyte's arm allows her to quickly find her balance. Ahem, nothing happened. "Well then, you have to keep him on a slow burn. Make sure he is around you, and I suppose if he were to take a position in your house it would allow him just that. Imagine, you'd be able to ensure that he remains by your side until you are ready - or at least able to take of it." She then grins widely at the mention of apologizing. "Yes! Do it, and trust me on the cloak pin, it may seem silly but-…" she shrugs her shoulder as she unwinds her arm from Keyte's. "Just don't keep him hanging forever, Lady Keyte. If he really is a good man then there will be many who will be eager to snatch him up for their own daughters."

"A… slow burn…" Keyte repeats, somewhere between puzzled and troubled by that prospect. Not as much as she is troubled by the probability of her knight being snatched up by some other lady, though. "You're right," she concludes, allowing Sera her arm back. You're welcome, Sera. "Oh, I trust you," says she with a smile that's broadening. "A cloak pin, it's a grand idea, thank you lady! I do hope he'll forgive me. Thank you, Sera, truly. You are most kind!" She doesn't even say 'for a Florent'. Given the warmth in her tone, she might not even be thinking it!

Having her arm back in one piece (thank the seven gods) Sera can't help but grin widely at Keyte; a massive toothy grin that threatens to split her face in two. "Thank you, Lady Keyte! And I hope to see more of you! I wish you the best of luck with your handsome Knight! And please come by if you ever find yourself bored," offering a place for a Tyrell, my goodness. "I would much rather have your company than the books at home."

An invitation, even! Well aren't they just the very picture of a bloodfeud settled, shopping not optional. Keyte fair beams in response, every bit as bright as the Florent girl. "Oh, but I'd love to, my lady. I'll keep you informed, hmm?" She dips another curtsey to excuse herself, having already spied a likely cloak-pin merchant nearby. She's not rushing there, as much as she's rushing there. Ok she's rushing there. Toodles!

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