[Roleplay] Bold ransom and well-wishing

Bold Jon was bedridden, his life in jeopardy and his pride in shambles. Much later in the day, Loreia approaches the tent wherein lies the defeated, bloodied and bruised, recovering from her adamant challenge. "
Not yet through,"
what even was I thinking? But she had wanted to continue in melee for a reason.

She explains to whomever might be guarding the tent. "
My name is Ser Loreia Durant. I'm here to speak to Ser Jon about our ransom."


When she enters, an absence of spoken word between them approaching hesitation will prompt her to speak first - hailing him with proper address - before the silence is as long as to be considered a pause or hesitation.

[OOC: placeholder]

Ser Jon called for his guards to allow "
Ser"
Loreia to enter with a simple "
Let her pass."


Out of his plate armour, the brave knight is a mess of bandages that are already stained red with blood. Notably, there is little sign of Jon having eased his wounds with milk of the poppy - his eyes are pained rather than displaying the dull haze of someone under the medicine's influence.

Loreia's expression immediately softens when she sees the state Jon is in, mindful of the wrap underneath her livery, threatening to squeeze the breath out of her stomach, holding in place a rib delicately set by Daveth. She's seen this kind of suffering before, when warriors would need milk of the poppy to fight the pain. Can she honestly say she'd been seriously hurt just as much? She swallows reflexively, thinking back to the moment in the tent when she drank what Daveth offered her. It was for him, she reassures. Not you. Be strong.

"
Ser Jon, I'm relieved to see for meself that you're holdin' on. Our match was a fight for the ages."


She fully expects Jon to live up to his name in his response regarding his view of the events that landed him inside this tent. It remained to be seen whether he understood the significance of continuing their match on foot, the meat of the discussion she was truly after. Still, perhaps he only wants her to demand her ransom and leave.

[url=Empathy vs Jon Roxton][/url]: 4d6k2-4 8
So, I know I'm injured and wounded, but for an Empathy roll, I thought maybe I should just take all the penalties and leave it up to Reader which apply and which don't(In which case, my result is certainly higher than shown). Let me know, 'kay?

"
It was, although I would sooner have men sing of me as the victory than the vanquished."


Ser Jon was polite, but clearly in pain from both his bruising match with Loreia and his battered pride.

"
I will seek you out at the next melee and trust you will do the same. If there is to be a song sung of us, I would write a second verse with my blade and hope for a happier end for my side."


He smiles, but it is a weak thing and he winces in pain. Again, Reach etiquette and his wounds restrain Ser Jon from shouting in rage at his defeat and his desire for a rematch.

[OOC: empathy results in text above]

She had expected this intensity from Ser Jon, restrained or not. She had seen it before with Ser Frank Mooton, who's loss was mitigated by Ser Tymon being her defeat.

She nods slowly. "
If you'll seek me out, then I must."


"
I'll let you keep your armor, ser. Let us both be plain: the Frey lord wore you down, and I fought as though I'd staked my life on your defeat. I hope you understand why, that there may be no quarrel between us."
She offers a gloved hand to shake.

"
It must be thus."


"
If you will not do me the courtesy of ransoming my armour, at least accept its value in coin as a gift of friendship. I will be in nobody's debt, man or woman."


Ser Jon waits to see if this other is acceptable before taking Loreia's hand.

A gift of friendship from him? Is that how he would really see it, or is he already making a nest for his hatred of me?

A small smile provides a hint to her flustered thoughts. "
I didn't come to bind you into my debt, Ser Jon. Is there no courtesy in lettn' you keep both armor an' coin?"


[See house forum.]

"
I can but hope it is a courtesy, but men would not see it as much."


"
The realm would defame me for being unable to pay my ransoms, my distant father hearing of the necessity of such charity would fear I had gambled and drunk away such fortune I have inherited and won through force of arms."


Politeness veiled the deeper risks here - that a grand champion such as Ser Jon should fall to a woman and be diminished by receiving his armour as charity would reflect ill on him.

Although it has been wounded, Ser Jon's pride binds him in defeat as much as her ambition did in the list. Here in a maester's tent, she cannot ransom his ill feelings toward her to disappear, if they would remain after taking ransom for armor. To try would only backfire in more ways than one.

She takes his hand. "
If that's what you wish, I won't refuse it. Rest well, Ser Jon."

He strains himself to offer a firm handshake despite the pain.

"
My thanks for your kind wishes. You are in good hands if but half of what I hear of Master Daveth is true. I want both of us to be at our best for our rematches."


[/scene]