LOG: Did you hear how she sizzled?
Date: Day 2, Month 9, Turn 25
Synopsis: Immediately after the previous log, Rhaelyn and Tom strike a deal.
Rhaelyn's lower lip pokes out slightly and then she smiles wider. She sees something on Tom's face, but her translation comes across as 'why don't you follow me'. Or, at least that's what she does. The basket of grreens is left for the cooks, an afterthought really and then she strolls after the man. She doesn't say anything until she's out of ear shot of those who witnessed the fall. "So...that was dramatic." Offering a line to fish out a response from the man before he departs.
Tomaeran is silent for a good couple of seconds more, though they've got to be well and truly out of earshot, by then. He glances at Rhaelyn, forcing his expression into something more light-hearted; he's not a very good actor. "It was an /accident/," he says - swears, even, more forceful than the words probably need to be. "You know that, right? They're going to say I deliberately burnt the girl, and I didn't. You have to back me up." He's beginning to sound a little desperate. "Ani will; she knows what's good for her. But."
"She is your wife. A wife had best support her husband." Rhaelyn says these words after concidering the tone of his voice and his acting job. "I mean, if someone were to, have a different story, it could make things very difficult. For you I mean." Her nose crinkles up, "Did you hear how she sizzled?" Sure, maybe there's some jealousy there in the younger girl. /She/ has to get dirty in the fields while 'someone' gets to teach all important-like. Such unfairness.
"Yes," says Tom, coolly. "She had best." There is not exactly a lot of love lost between Tom and his wife - it was her fault they got married in the first place, after all. And she's hardly a suitable (blooded) wife. Still. His gaze narrows in and he considers Rhaelyn, even if his lips flicker into vaguely wry amusement. "She did, didn't she? She'll think twice about bothering me again. You /are/ going to support me, aren't you?"
Rhaelyn gives a little shake of her head, is there sympathy for the trap that Tomaeran has been ensnared? Or is it just mockery? She's still young and playing with such emotions honestly. "I don't see why that little 'fall' is going to silence her. Particularly if she gets a few of the elders siding with her...in sympathy." When he voices the question so plain the girl purses her lips, "I don't know. What's in it for me?"
"Uncle won't let them," insists Tomaeran. It helps, being related to the leader of the exiles. He's pretty sure of it; perhaps for good reason. "And Mother certainly won't. It was an /accident/." There's a hint of frustration, and a larger hint of agitation, at her last question. Shifting from one foot to another, the young man hesitates. After biting his lip for a few moments, he asks, "What do you want? Come on, Rhae. Please?"
"And yet, he isn't able to 'fix' everything." Rhaelyn reminds Tomaeran innocently enough. He does have the issue of the ball and chain haunting him. His insistance makes her smile warm and she takes a step in closer, offering her shoulder to nudge his arm, "I could use some better soap, for my hair. Since you have such high connections. It could hardly be a burden to you. /And/ I could sit with your mother for awhile." Because what old lady doesn't like to be attended to by a decent blooded young lady of reasonable breeding?
It's a fair call, and not exactly one Tomaeran can choose to ignore or forget; he makes a face. "She's on at me about having babies again. Doesn't she get it? There won't /be/ any." Not since the one that oh-so-conveniently died at birth. He seems relieved, though, by her nudge and the suggestions she offers; nodding quickly, he promises, "I'll see what I can do. I know one of Mother's friends has started making some nicer stuff. Mother was all on about it, the other day. But... you really /want/ to spend time with /my/ mother?" He shakes his head. "She's all yours. If you'll /swear/."
Rhaelyn lifts her shoulders up slightly, her true intentions hers alone for now, "Your mother needs a distraction from babies. I thought she didn't like your ...wife." Curious, the girl asks, "Why did you settle anyway?" She doesn't move away from Tom, someone walking by might have tongues wagging about him consorting with such a young girl when he /is/ married but they're alone. "I'm not so sure about 'swearing'. I mean, if someone were to pick my brain...it just just 'oups' come out."
"/Ani/ is bugging me about it, not Mother. I'm not even sure Mother has forgiven me, yet." Even if it has been a good six or seven turns, now. Tomaeran shifts uncomfortably, still not quite back on his usual, even keel after-- events. He gives Rhaelyn a wary glance. "I had to marry Seani. They don't want the confusion of people having children with multiple partners, or something. So you'd think that, now, there wouldn't be a problem, but-- they seem to think it has to be for /life/." A life sentence. "Learn from my mistakes, young one. Don't fool around with anyone you don't want to end up shackled to. Unless it's me." Dimples. He intends, apparently, to ignore the possibility of picking brains.
Rhaelyn's sharp gaze sweeps over Tomaeran with an expression that he might find flattering. "Of course. Although the pickings are pretty lean now, for unmarried husbands." She certainly seems serious as she meets his gaze with a little smile. But it's quick and gone, easing back from him with a little shrug. "A real shame you had to get trapped though. You got cheated."
It /does/ seem to relax him further. Being admired is preferable to being wanted dead! "For ones with the right Blood? Yes." Tomaeran shakes his head, wrinkling his nose. "Mother seems to think that there aren't many options for any of us. We're too closely related?" He shrugs; he's not really smart enough to give it much thought. Or make sense of it. "I did. It was a dumb mistake, and I'm paying for it, now. For always. I'd do anything to get rid of her."
Rhaelyn's lashes lower and she flashes a wider smile to Tom, "There are enough with the right amount of blood. Father says I have a very pretty pedigree for example." Taunting the man who's already got his 'catch'. Giggling she shakes her head, "You could always...." She breaks off and makes a face, "...oh, no. you're not the sort of man for 'that'."
If Tom seems inclined to sigh and making a moping, mournful face in the wake of that particular first remark: woe! If only he'd waited a few turns. Until she grew up enough for him and all. "Where were you when I was seventeen, mm?" His attention doesn't linger long, however, however enticing an idea-- he blinks, owlish and stupid, at her trailing off words. "What? What do you mean?"
Rhaelyn laughs softly, as though she assumes poor Tom is playing her and treating her like a child. There's a harmless, flutteering swat to his arm and another coy look through lashes. "Oh...well what if you happened to catch your wife having.... relations...with another man. I mean, that would be too awful for anyone to bare. How would you ever know you'd be bringing up your children and not some bastard's get?"
That swat might be harmless, but the way Tomaeran reaches to grab for her hand, and, if he manages that, to squeeze it, is slightly less so. He looks like he's thinking pretty hard - which is impressive, really. Finally: "If I... Reckon there's someone who'd be willing to /actually/ seduce her? Maybe? It's not as though she isn't /pretty/." He seems to be taking this very seriously indeed.
"Don't." Rhaelyn warns when his hand squeezes onto hers. Her back straightens and that look that was so flirty earlier is deadly serious now. She's not some little-bit's-wool to rough up without repayment. "Well, it only has to 'look' as though she was in the midst of things. Even if it appeared that she was the one to cause things." Her eyes roll slightly, "YOU got her that way why not someone else?" She doesn't pull the hand away, she waits for him to surrender it, or she's going to punch him in the jaw if that fist she's coiling is any hint.
They're standing on a cliff path, and it's a long way down: Tomaeran removes his hand. His expression is apologetic, but his smile is still inclined towards the rakish. "Right. It's not as though it took much to get her into bed back then. And it's not as though she gets what she wants from /me/." That could mean a lot of things; thankfully, he doesn't actually specify what he's referring to, in this particular instance. "It's a good idea. Thanks, Rhae. You're a real friend. Guess I better wait until this thing with Emmeline settles, though. Maybe."
Rhaelyn smiles sweetly once the clamp of the hand frees her. She uses the hand to cup the side of Tom's face and blushes before she lets the fingers slip away. "I'm sure you'll keep me in mind, if you happen upon any combs or that soap...." She makes a play of locking her lips with a twist of her fingers at the corner of her mouth. "And, should you need anyone to talk to...."
Tomaeran's brows raise, just slightly, as Rhaelyn cups his face: he's watching her, all intently. But as she speaks, he laughs, nodding cheerfully. "I will. I'll see what I can do. And-- thanks. I appreciate it, Rhae. I really, really do. I'll talk to Mother tonight. It'll all be sorted." He sounds... pleased, mostly.
Rhaelyn nods her head and meets Tomaeran's eyes. If she had not just unfolded the sinister little plot, one might think her smile as innocent as any child. "I have gardening duty...if you should ever want to have a walk. I would be eager to help you with...any plans you might have." Because men of blood should have plans. right?
In contrast, Tom's expression is distinctly inclined towards wicked. "You'll be the first person I come to, my dear," he promises, sincerely. "Whatever my plans might be." There /will/ be plans. He seems far too pleased with himself for there not to be. Unfortunately, in the meantime, he glances back up the path, towards the distant settlement. "I suppose I'd better head back up there. Being innocent, I have nothing to be ashamed of, and staying away will only... dispute that."
Rhaelyn nods her head and glances back towards the settlement herself but without a goal to return herself, "That's a good idea. I'm sure you'll offer just the right amount of sympathy too. Perhaps you can win her over in the end." Her arms fold over her chest and she draws her shawl around her to keep the wind out. "I'll catch up, in a little bit." Wouldn't do to have people whispering about them right now either. "Good night Tom."
Tomaeran's nose wrinkles, his thoughts on the subject of playing nice pretty obvious: does he have to? But it's good advice, and even he knows it. "I'll try," he tells her, half-solemn and half-resigned. "I'll do my best. Night, Rhae. Thanks again." He turns, giving her one last short nod before doing so, and then makes his way back up the path, his head held high, his expression serious - but not guilty.
Synopsis: Immediately after the previous log, Rhaelyn and Tom strike a deal.
Rhaelyn's lower lip pokes out slightly and then she smiles wider. She sees something on Tom's face, but her translation comes across as 'why don't you follow me'. Or, at least that's what she does. The basket of grreens is left for the cooks, an afterthought really and then she strolls after the man. She doesn't say anything until she's out of ear shot of those who witnessed the fall. "So...that was dramatic." Offering a line to fish out a response from the man before he departs.
Tomaeran is silent for a good couple of seconds more, though they've got to be well and truly out of earshot, by then. He glances at Rhaelyn, forcing his expression into something more light-hearted; he's not a very good actor. "It was an /accident/," he says - swears, even, more forceful than the words probably need to be. "You know that, right? They're going to say I deliberately burnt the girl, and I didn't. You have to back me up." He's beginning to sound a little desperate. "Ani will; she knows what's good for her. But."
"She is your wife. A wife had best support her husband." Rhaelyn says these words after concidering the tone of his voice and his acting job. "I mean, if someone were to, have a different story, it could make things very difficult. For you I mean." Her nose crinkles up, "Did you hear how she sizzled?" Sure, maybe there's some jealousy there in the younger girl. /She/ has to get dirty in the fields while 'someone' gets to teach all important-like. Such unfairness.
"Yes," says Tom, coolly. "She had best." There is not exactly a lot of love lost between Tom and his wife - it was her fault they got married in the first place, after all. And she's hardly a suitable (blooded) wife. Still. His gaze narrows in and he considers Rhaelyn, even if his lips flicker into vaguely wry amusement. "She did, didn't she? She'll think twice about bothering me again. You /are/ going to support me, aren't you?"
Rhaelyn gives a little shake of her head, is there sympathy for the trap that Tomaeran has been ensnared? Or is it just mockery? She's still young and playing with such emotions honestly. "I don't see why that little 'fall' is going to silence her. Particularly if she gets a few of the elders siding with her...in sympathy." When he voices the question so plain the girl purses her lips, "I don't know. What's in it for me?"
"Uncle won't let them," insists Tomaeran. It helps, being related to the leader of the exiles. He's pretty sure of it; perhaps for good reason. "And Mother certainly won't. It was an /accident/." There's a hint of frustration, and a larger hint of agitation, at her last question. Shifting from one foot to another, the young man hesitates. After biting his lip for a few moments, he asks, "What do you want? Come on, Rhae. Please?"
"And yet, he isn't able to 'fix' everything." Rhaelyn reminds Tomaeran innocently enough. He does have the issue of the ball and chain haunting him. His insistance makes her smile warm and she takes a step in closer, offering her shoulder to nudge his arm, "I could use some better soap, for my hair. Since you have such high connections. It could hardly be a burden to you. /And/ I could sit with your mother for awhile." Because what old lady doesn't like to be attended to by a decent blooded young lady of reasonable breeding?
It's a fair call, and not exactly one Tomaeran can choose to ignore or forget; he makes a face. "She's on at me about having babies again. Doesn't she get it? There won't /be/ any." Not since the one that oh-so-conveniently died at birth. He seems relieved, though, by her nudge and the suggestions she offers; nodding quickly, he promises, "I'll see what I can do. I know one of Mother's friends has started making some nicer stuff. Mother was all on about it, the other day. But... you really /want/ to spend time with /my/ mother?" He shakes his head. "She's all yours. If you'll /swear/."
Rhaelyn lifts her shoulders up slightly, her true intentions hers alone for now, "Your mother needs a distraction from babies. I thought she didn't like your ...wife." Curious, the girl asks, "Why did you settle anyway?" She doesn't move away from Tom, someone walking by might have tongues wagging about him consorting with such a young girl when he /is/ married but they're alone. "I'm not so sure about 'swearing'. I mean, if someone were to pick my brain...it just just 'oups' come out."
"/Ani/ is bugging me about it, not Mother. I'm not even sure Mother has forgiven me, yet." Even if it has been a good six or seven turns, now. Tomaeran shifts uncomfortably, still not quite back on his usual, even keel after-- events. He gives Rhaelyn a wary glance. "I had to marry Seani. They don't want the confusion of people having children with multiple partners, or something. So you'd think that, now, there wouldn't be a problem, but-- they seem to think it has to be for /life/." A life sentence. "Learn from my mistakes, young one. Don't fool around with anyone you don't want to end up shackled to. Unless it's me." Dimples. He intends, apparently, to ignore the possibility of picking brains.
Rhaelyn's sharp gaze sweeps over Tomaeran with an expression that he might find flattering. "Of course. Although the pickings are pretty lean now, for unmarried husbands." She certainly seems serious as she meets his gaze with a little smile. But it's quick and gone, easing back from him with a little shrug. "A real shame you had to get trapped though. You got cheated."
It /does/ seem to relax him further. Being admired is preferable to being wanted dead! "For ones with the right Blood? Yes." Tomaeran shakes his head, wrinkling his nose. "Mother seems to think that there aren't many options for any of us. We're too closely related?" He shrugs; he's not really smart enough to give it much thought. Or make sense of it. "I did. It was a dumb mistake, and I'm paying for it, now. For always. I'd do anything to get rid of her."
Rhaelyn's lashes lower and she flashes a wider smile to Tom, "There are enough with the right amount of blood. Father says I have a very pretty pedigree for example." Taunting the man who's already got his 'catch'. Giggling she shakes her head, "You could always...." She breaks off and makes a face, "...oh, no. you're not the sort of man for 'that'."
If Tom seems inclined to sigh and making a moping, mournful face in the wake of that particular first remark: woe! If only he'd waited a few turns. Until she grew up enough for him and all. "Where were you when I was seventeen, mm?" His attention doesn't linger long, however, however enticing an idea-- he blinks, owlish and stupid, at her trailing off words. "What? What do you mean?"
Rhaelyn laughs softly, as though she assumes poor Tom is playing her and treating her like a child. There's a harmless, flutteering swat to his arm and another coy look through lashes. "Oh...well what if you happened to catch your wife having.... relations...with another man. I mean, that would be too awful for anyone to bare. How would you ever know you'd be bringing up your children and not some bastard's get?"
That swat might be harmless, but the way Tomaeran reaches to grab for her hand, and, if he manages that, to squeeze it, is slightly less so. He looks like he's thinking pretty hard - which is impressive, really. Finally: "If I... Reckon there's someone who'd be willing to /actually/ seduce her? Maybe? It's not as though she isn't /pretty/." He seems to be taking this very seriously indeed.
"Don't." Rhaelyn warns when his hand squeezes onto hers. Her back straightens and that look that was so flirty earlier is deadly serious now. She's not some little-bit's-wool to rough up without repayment. "Well, it only has to 'look' as though she was in the midst of things. Even if it appeared that she was the one to cause things." Her eyes roll slightly, "YOU got her that way why not someone else?" She doesn't pull the hand away, she waits for him to surrender it, or she's going to punch him in the jaw if that fist she's coiling is any hint.
They're standing on a cliff path, and it's a long way down: Tomaeran removes his hand. His expression is apologetic, but his smile is still inclined towards the rakish. "Right. It's not as though it took much to get her into bed back then. And it's not as though she gets what she wants from /me/." That could mean a lot of things; thankfully, he doesn't actually specify what he's referring to, in this particular instance. "It's a good idea. Thanks, Rhae. You're a real friend. Guess I better wait until this thing with Emmeline settles, though. Maybe."
Rhaelyn smiles sweetly once the clamp of the hand frees her. She uses the hand to cup the side of Tom's face and blushes before she lets the fingers slip away. "I'm sure you'll keep me in mind, if you happen upon any combs or that soap...." She makes a play of locking her lips with a twist of her fingers at the corner of her mouth. "And, should you need anyone to talk to...."
Tomaeran's brows raise, just slightly, as Rhaelyn cups his face: he's watching her, all intently. But as she speaks, he laughs, nodding cheerfully. "I will. I'll see what I can do. And-- thanks. I appreciate it, Rhae. I really, really do. I'll talk to Mother tonight. It'll all be sorted." He sounds... pleased, mostly.
Rhaelyn nods her head and meets Tomaeran's eyes. If she had not just unfolded the sinister little plot, one might think her smile as innocent as any child. "I have gardening duty...if you should ever want to have a walk. I would be eager to help you with...any plans you might have." Because men of blood should have plans. right?
In contrast, Tom's expression is distinctly inclined towards wicked. "You'll be the first person I come to, my dear," he promises, sincerely. "Whatever my plans might be." There /will/ be plans. He seems far too pleased with himself for there not to be. Unfortunately, in the meantime, he glances back up the path, towards the distant settlement. "I suppose I'd better head back up there. Being innocent, I have nothing to be ashamed of, and staying away will only... dispute that."
Rhaelyn nods her head and glances back towards the settlement herself but without a goal to return herself, "That's a good idea. I'm sure you'll offer just the right amount of sympathy too. Perhaps you can win her over in the end." Her arms fold over her chest and she draws her shawl around her to keep the wind out. "I'll catch up, in a little bit." Wouldn't do to have people whispering about them right now either. "Good night Tom."
Tomaeran's nose wrinkles, his thoughts on the subject of playing nice pretty obvious: does he have to? But it's good advice, and even he knows it. "I'll try," he tells her, half-solemn and half-resigned. "I'll do my best. Night, Rhae. Thanks again." He turns, giving her one last short nod before doing so, and then makes his way back up the path, his head held high, his expression serious - but not guilty.