[CLOSED]

[oathbroken]

Who: oathbroken and prescientblade
What: Jaime asked for sparring partners and got Teresa. Fortunately for his pride, they met in Dismas. Behold the post-spar drinks.
When: November 6
Where: The Foxhole!
Warnings: Probably filthy nonsense from Jaime? ROFL. IT IS HIS WAY.

Comments

[prescientblade]

[Teresa keeps her head up all the way to the Foxhole's bar, but never lets Jaime too far out of her sight. For a human, he was good - he could have easily taken the match if he hadn't been so obviously thrown off by her... well. Her.]

[In Dismas.]

[Still, in spite of his cavalier attitude she has to give him credit, and perhaps enjoys a bit of the curiosity he shows. It's so rare that she sees it unaccompanied by malice.]

I don't normally drink. It doesn't have the same effect for me as for others.

[She matches his smile.]

But I think tonight, wine will serve. I hear it's appropriate for celebrations.

[oathbroken]

[He orders a wine - at least he hopes it's a wine, the seven know this place isn't well equipt for fine drinking, and inside a few seconds he's looking at her again - golden haired and doll-faced. The latter being somewhat literal, actually - her features are strangely delicate, like a highborn maid, and not unlike the dolls his sister kept in their youth.]

[Those dolls.. the most beautiful ones had looked like Cersei. And like Teresa.]

[He taps his golden fist on the countertop, clicks his tongue against his teeth.]

And what is it, exactly, that you're celebrating? The grand accomplishment of knocking an inch off my ego? I must say, that's better than most have ever accomplished.

[Idly, he rolls a shelled peanut across the countertop beneath his palm.]

[And then, more seriously...]

You're rather magnificent, aren't you? How did a woman come by such skill?

[prescientblade]

[Tap, tap. The hand hitting the bar doesn't sound like what it should, and Teresa's gaze lingers on it for an extra few seconds before going back to his face. He has a look that seems familiar somehow, despite their having only just met.]

If that's such an accomplishment, I'll be glad to celebrate it.

[She flicks away a crumb of peanut shell, and continues smiling even at his seriousness.]

You still call me that.

Training, of course. Practice. Strict teachers. How does anyone come by such skill?

[She looks at him carefully, silver eyes unmoving.]

How did you?

[oathbroken]

You are a woman, aren't you? With all of the requisite... parts.

[Did he just give her a once-over? Yes, he did. with a little smirk, no less.]

[...but all right, on the subject of battle, he can turn off the smarm.]

How did I come by it. In the way most men of my land do - I lived a life devoted to the art of war. But my home is not a place accustomed to seeing women flinging blades around.