| The Filling of Gaps and Dropping of Hats |
| Summary: | Kierne and Eoin open up to each other. |
| OOC Date: | Various/Sep/2014 |
| Related: | Nothing specific but the Kierne-Eoin friendship in general |
| Players: |
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| Noble Mens Bath - Darfield Castle |
| A large sunken pool made for several nobles at once, with a spring running through constantly, keeping the water refreshed and clean. There are towels, soaps and other products men would need for their bathing. |
| 33th of Alasair, 229 2E |
It has not, all things considered, been the best of weeks for Eoin, so now, he's taking a little time to relax and unwind. Mostly submerged he has the back of his head resting on the side, to facilitate that pesky breathing thing. Eyes closed he seems largely dead to the world and is the only current inhabitant of the pool.
Kierne isn't, on the whole, much of a one to worry about bathing. A wet rag to wipe down every few days is enough to keep him clean enough for his own tastes, with maybe a pitcher of water to dump over his head. To actually strip down and heads to the baths just takes more time than he usually has. But, with a bad storm outside delaying his departure for Lakeshire, he really may as well. So, here he is, in all his glory, with twin scars cutting diagonally across one side of his stomach, another on the same side of his chest, and a fourth high over the opposite shoulder, looking like it was a slice dangerously close to his throat. "It's a good day for it, huh? One of those downpours where you can hardly see your hand in front of your face, you'd be taking a bath just going out in it."
Eoin has his own scares too, an assortment mostly on his arms and torso, including of course the one Kierne helped to staunch. He doesn't react immediately to the sound of footsteps, but once Kierne starts talking he does open an eye and tilt his head a little. "What can I say," he replies with a smile of greeting, "it's hardly a secret that I'm a fan of the water. Aye though, best not when it's falling on my head. How are you by the way? I thought you were off home?"
"Was. Couldn't ride far in this, though, so it's either go out and pitch tent, crouching in the autumn chill while Nylie's hooves try not to drown in mud, or we stay here nice and dry and start out when the sun's at least shining and everything's dried up." Kierne steps down into the water. "Oh, man. That's nice, though," he has to admit it. "Maybe I should be grateful for the rain."
Eoin ahhs a silent nod of understanding, righting himself in the water slightly so it's easier to converse. "I wouldn't want to camp in this," he agrees, "that at least is an advantage of being at sea, we can baton down the hatches and ride it out below." Or most of them can anyway. Dipping his head under the water a moment to re-wet his hair he then surfaces once more and wipes said hair out of his face. "The farmers will be greatful for it as well I hear, " he notes, "all my cousin goes on about at the moment is the poor harvest."
"If the harvest's already poor, it's probably too late in the season for useful rain," Kierne points out, steping down again, submerging hips and stomach into the water before sitting down and leaning back. "How bad is it?" he wonders, squinting one eye in concern while lifting one ankle to hook over his opposite knee, arms spreading to his sides.
Eoin is not a farmer, knows not the magic of growing things, so merely accepts Kierne's statement with a shrug and I "perhaps." Then, at the question of how bad he pauses, takes a deep breath, lets it our again slowly then answers, "Greenshire won't starve, but I have heard that my cousin has agreed to his steward's recomendation to raise tariffs." A slow shake of his head and he adds sound weary for a moment, "I am sure you'll hear more of that when you return to Lakeshire though. News of it has not gone down well I fear."
Kierne takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly at the news of the raised tariffs. He'd known that ever since all the raiding had ruined much of heir own harvests, they'd wagered upon aid from elsewhere in return for having basically been the front lines. Now? Well, yeah, that could be bad. "Yeah," he murmurs, drawn into a pensive state by his cogitations. "I can see that. I guess it's good I'm heading back, then. There'll be a lot to deal with."
Eoin nods solmnly, "aye, I suspect there will be, and I do not envy you it. In truth, with teh way thing are at the moment I find myself once more thruning my thoughts towards another voyage." A shift in position to get his shoulders back under the water and he notes, "in truth though my crew deserve teh break, and there are still alterations to be made to the Grace so I must remain amidst this chaos a while yet."
Kierne continues slouching into the water, as though he might be slowly melting. Melllllting. Oh, what a world, etc. "While I pass from madness unto madness. I sometimes wonder whether I might have made a better sailor than a knight. But going that long without seeing a woman seems… I dunno, I can't fathom it," he chuckles. "But I guess you must not mind, much, not getting any from the woman of your fancy; may as well be around others equally as miserable, huh?"
Eoin still isn't quite comfortable and shifts, then rolls his shoulders a few times to try and get settled. "It's not so bad as all that," he replies with a faint smile, "there are less.. reminders shall I say. There is also a job to be done, which keeps the mind occupied on other matters." Another fidgit and then he adds, "although, if i'm honest, it is not unknown for the men to find their own.. entertainments at times, if the need grows too strong."
Kierne's brows pop lazily upward, lethargic from the hot water but attentive enough at that particular admission. "Really? I mean. I guess it makes sense. Everyone needs some company," he stops short of expounding upon his own exploits on his own side of the gender line— those brags don't see the light of day, much. "And it's not like a guy's not good company. Good friends, of a heart and mind with one another. Comrades in arms— they say there really isn't any way to be closer to a person than to face death with him. What's a little bit of pleasure, after all that?" Always a philospher. "Did you ever, ah—? I mean, just between you an' me?" he dares to ask.
Eoin actually chuckles a little at that, grinning a little at the lad's response. "Aye, and being crammed into a small area with the same people for prolonged periods, never knowing when you find your hammock if you're going to wake to a calm sea, a storm, a grounding.. Well, you've been to battle, I imagine there are some parallels that can be drawn." Without the whole 'imminant threat of drowning' bit though. Another smile at the final question and he nods slowly before clarifying, "but not since I became a captain. You have to keep a degree of.. detachment, or there are acqusations of favouratism and it all goes to pot, disapline suffers."
"It's lonely at the top, huh?" Kierne's lips twist subtly to one side in a look equal parts sympathetic and playful. "That's… I mean, I think it's good, though. I always hear all these guys being all disgusted by stuff like that, and it's like," he shrugs, "Why, even? If you care about a person and the two of you are going in with the same expectations, nobody's getting tricked or hurt… I dunno, it all seems to me like the 'rules' are completely arbitrarily drawn. And that hurts some people, 'cause there are… well. You know. There are guys out there who can't even stand the thought of mounting a woman. I don't understand it, from my point of view, but how miserable their lives must be, under the weight of everyone looking askance, y'know? Ehn, now I'm preaching," he chuckles. "And ruining a perfectly good bath."
Eoin finally seems to get comfortable again and grins back a little, "now you see, that is one of the bonus of being a captain. What I say onboard goes, anyone doesn't like it they're welcome to go swim for it." Aware after a moment that he's sort of contracticted himself he hastens to add, "theoretically of course." Sinking down slowly into the water again he stops just before his chin submerges and continues, "things seem to be a lot more proscriptive here in the east, I can tell you that much. Do not worry though, conversation that isn't political is more than welcome," a faint smile then, "you'll know if I consider you to be preaching."
"Heh," hehs Kierne, gazing easily aside toward the other in the bath. "Okay, good. Sometimes I get off on a tangent and I don't really know when to stop. I know Uncle Aiden's policy is just to look the other way as long as the guy's not being stupidly open about it. But Sir Ronan? Holy crap, I think he'd probably really hurt a guy if he found something like that out about him. Me, like… it doesn't bother me." A lingering bit of hesitation, before one shoulder shrugs up out of the water, "I had a boyfriend, for a while." One confession warrants another, after all. That's not his only experience with guys, but he'll start there, at least. It sounds at least rather innocuous.
"I'd noticed," Eoin replies back, dryly, although his expression is still one of amusement, so likely as not Kierne's still good for now. "I must admit, I suspect Aldren would wonder why anyone thought it was worth making a fuss out of if asked. He might get a bit touchy when it comes to threatening bloodlines, but beyond that.." he just shrugs faintly. A vague nod to the comment abotu Aidan, and faint snort to the one about Ronan, "well, he's a knight with a stick up his arse, what did you expect?" Resting his head back on the side for a bit, he then asks lightly, "was he as ugly as your girlfriend? Or is that only what you look for in the fairer sex?"
"He may be a knight with a stick up his ass, but he's my knight with a stick up his ass," Kierne reminds Eoin jovially. He served Ronan for many years as squire— the man's more father to him than his own father, and even through the jocularity of the words there's a little bit of protectiveness there, stirred up, perhaps, by the derisive snort. "Ugly? Oh, man, no. You've never seen a guy so beautiful. He was like… this ray of sunshine, he'd smile and it'd just light up the room. And his legs. Oh, jeez, he just had these… perfect legs," he cocks a sort of devilish grin, as though perhaps a bit riled up just thinking of them.
"Technically," Eoin starts with a shrug, "I suppose he's Roslin's knight with a stick up his arse. Don't get me wrong, he's a fine militay commander, but he's such a typical eastener in many ways." A faint smile at that, and alo at the description of Kierne's ex before he ducks his head under once more and rubs his face with his hands. "I see, you're a legs man then? I go for eyes myself, and, well, smile." A faintly wry smile at that and he asks as he eyes, "you going to need some time alone with those thoughts?"
"I guess so," Kierne almost blinks to realize it. "My girlfriend has great legs, too, and I like them a lot. Long and soft," he nods his head slowly in affirmation. "But, nah. I'm not going to have a wank in the bath. That's just… that just seems like bad manners to whoever comes bathing next." Sensible enough, and a courteous young man, to boot. Who could ask for more? "Well, yes, Roslin's… but I don't think she thinks of him as a knight, first. Roslin's husband, my knight. Since that's the primary role of his in which he affected my life. When he starts training her to wield a blade, he can be her knight." See Kierne. See Kierne sophistrize.
"Good job the ladies wear dresses then," Eoin quips back, "stop your eyes from wondering, although how you cope with all the gentlemen in hose at court I'll never know." Shapely calves all round, especially amongst the archers. The idea of Roslin wielding a sowrd earns an outright bark of laughter, "I'm not sure Her Grace would dain to do anything quite so indelicate. Physically at least." He's aware she can be quite indelicate with her tongue when she wants to be. In the form of words that is. "Point to you," he conceeds, "her husband, your knight."
"I'm not quite such a dog as to hump every leg I happen to see, y'know," Kierne grins. "I mean, at least not in public," he chuckles. "I haven't so far advanced along the course of my philosophy as to thoroughly throw away the rules of polite society. Though, honestly, some days I feel close to it. Tanris the Dog is calling me, and that man wasn't shy to wank anywhere." Eoin will possibly remember the story. He yawns, once, lifting up both arms and folding them behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. "But as it stands, I can manage not to make advances on People With Legs, if I like, much like, I suppose, you can manage not to mount up on anyone with eyes," he chuckles, grinning at the notion of Roslin taking up arms.
"Not anyone with eyes no," Eoin replies, pretending to contemplate for a few moments, "although everyone I, mounted, as you so delicately put it, has eyes. Or at least had them at that point." He shrugs then, brows going genuinely thougtful for just a moment. "I suppose though, thats why the shipboard flings just fill gaps, can't look in their eyes." Shrugging the thought away he mimmicks Kierne's pose and settles down once more, "till, at least you'll get to be with your girl soon. If the rain is generous of course."
Kierne is quiet for a moment, considering the options for manners in which he ought to take that comment. "Can't look in their eyes, like… in the moment?" due to positioning issues, a physical inability, he presumably means, "Or, like… afterward?" more of a metaphorical, emotional inability. "Yeah, it's gonna be nice. Layla taught me a new trick to try with her when I get back, too."
Eoin hadn't considered that his words might be taken two ways, and so clarifies with a quick glance across towards Kierne, "the former. If it got that awkward aboard ships we'd have serious issues." Eyes back up towards the ceiling again he raises an eyebrow slightly at the mention of Layla, "been getting back into practice then eh? And do I want to know what tricks you're learning from whores?"
Kierne hehs. "Yeah, I was gonna say, that'd get awkward, fast. But there's no reason not to look into your boy's eyes," Kierne points out. "I mean, I guess…" he shrugs, "I guess it's just my leg fascination at work, but most of the time with my boyfriend I'd just lick up his thighs to make them slick and then go between them. Or if he really wanted it in him, I'd get his knees over my shoulders. I don't think I ever took him from behind but, like, once," he puzzles over the precise numbers, as though some of those assignations were pretty hay beneath the curtains of wine. Then, grinning, "Oh, yeah. Can't go back all rusty, now, can I? And I dunno what you want to know, but you probably realize by now I'd tell you, if you asked."
"You and your legs," Eoin replie with a faint smile, "you definitely have a thing there lad." A stretch and he continues, "sounds like you two had quite something. More than satisfying the basic urges at least. What ended it?" An amused cnuckle then and he agrees, "I was beginning to get that impression yes, although I suppose what I really want to know is would you tell me, or would you tell anyone? I've got a few wonderful mental images of some of our noble colleges' expressions if they were listening."
"I like to think…" Kierne almost leaves it there, half-abandoning the thought as either stillborn or otherwise too perfect to modify, grinning as he almost leaves it, then returns to it. "I like to think that I have a pretty good gague of conversations, where to go, what lines to cross and which not to, depending on the person, place and time." That's not really an answer, except for the fact that it is. "Ah— things were getting a little bit intense. He was sleeping with someone else. Which, y'know, I wouldn't normally mind, except for the fact that he was hiding it from me. Telling me I was the only one. Doing the same thing to the other guy, turns out. And then he went all crazy religious, talking about the end times coming or something, and, meh, that was kind of the nail in that coffin. But, yeah, I was pretty much in love with that guy for a while." But we all know by now that Kierne falls in love at the drop of a hat.
Eoin almost quips back 'you like to over-think,', but then Kierne finishes his thought so he keeps his mouth shut. "Useful skill," he notes with a faint nod, "you could be an ambassador or somesuch. Travel the world, foreign girls" a pause, "or boys. Not a bad life." A nod to the explaination given, and a "sorry to hear that." WIth his arms drying they're getting cold, so he slips them and his shoudlers back into the water once more before saying, "I think I might be done soon. I imagine it's getting late, and I still need to eat this evening."
"Ehn, I dunno. As much as it might have been tempting, I pretty much kept my trousers laced when I was up in Lannieland. I figured screwing aorund with the wrong person would probably cause more of a headache than it was worth. Which, heh, might just go to show I have an ambassador in me, after all." Kierne muses over it, but then glances back. "You taking supper here, or back at the manor?" he asks, as though the answer might dictate whether or not he hunts about for an invitation. "It's alright, you know, these things happen. He wasn't the first one to have my heart, he won't be the last. It did suck, but it's not like I'll never get over it."
"Take my advice," Eoin offers, "when abroad, stick to commoners, getting some ally's little princess in family way is going to help no one. There're whores in every city or town you'll find though, them and barmaids." Slowly starting to stand he shakes his head slowly, "truth be told, I'm not spending a vast amount of time at the manor right now. Slept on the Grace a few nights this week and was considering the same tonight. Why? You expecting to have been eating on the road?"
"More or less. Didn't have plans, other than the road rations I packed, and those'll keep for the morning. But I'll probably just prowl the kitchens here and get underfoot until the kitchenmaids give me a bowl of something to get me to go away. Crash upstairs in the suite here— nobody's there, of course, since everyone's in Lakeshire. So it's a nice place to get some peace and quiet. Most of the time when the suite's full of people I crash out in the stables to get away from the madness." It occurs to Kierne that he's been rambling on, and he finally looks aside to Eoin. "Wanna stay here, instead?"
"I reckon the kitchens should be able to manage better than road rations," Eoin replies, "even at this time of the evening." A glance upwards at the mention of the suites he then turns back to Kierne, "Everyone? I believe your uncle Arlen at least is about at the moment." He suspects Lady Senga is too, but isn't certain. "Not a bad idea in general though, and there's still some of Aldren's wine in what is effectively the Kerrigan's suit these days,and none of them are about." He smile a little, "throw in not having to deal with the rain and aye, I think I might stay here instead."