She fixes him with an unamused look, vaulting nimbly into her own saddle. Once, just once, it would be a relief if he could show some sense of propriety; if he could keep his impishness to where it is wanted. If he could spare her brother the thought of the more private aspects of their marriage...
Her brother, for his part, looks equally unamused, and takes the moment of Jaime's back being turned to exchange a look with her, as if to say: Tell me he will not be so coarse all this while. Or perhaps she only reads that into his look because it is what is going through her own mind. Either way, she feels a sharp urge to apologise, for she had not entirely thought through how bringing her uncouth husband to a king's hall might spoil the manners of the whole place.
But still, she reminds herself, it is worth it; for they are here, and she is home, and no matter how jealously Jaime may feel the need to remind them all that it is a temporary visit, still it is a weight from her heart to be here at all. It is worth it, then, to shepherd Jaime through the intricacies of what comes so easily to her; and she must remember, too, that she made her own mistakes as a stranger in his land, and he cannot be blamed if he makes some, too. (The fact that she has tried a great deal harder than he appears to, while it is unavoidable, is not something she will let herself linger on. She will not be sour, will not seek trouble with him; this is a joyous occasion, and she must let it be so.)
"Grim I am," she agrees, rather than credit his other comments with response, "but glad, too, for I have long wished to show you my noble home. And before any such admiration comes, we will stop at the King's stables; and you may see then why I am so unforgiving of Westerosi horseflesh, when you see a full compliment of horses whose Mearas blood runs true." She turns her head to look at her brother, as he climbs into his own saddle and urges his horse into a walk. "It is a shame we did not see Shadowfax on our way, Éomer, for he would have made even my lord Jaime admit to the nobility of your stables at once. Does he still roam here?"
"When Gandalf has no need of him. You may yet find him, I believe; he runs as wild as ever, these past few months." The king seems distracted, looking between the two of them as his horse draws up beside them, beginning back towards the city. "Tell me, Lord Jaime, should I speak Westron alone? I thought to aid you in managing the Rohirric tongue, but if you would sooner I did not..."
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Date: 2021-09-24 03:23 am (UTC)Her brother, for his part, looks equally unamused, and takes the moment of Jaime's back being turned to exchange a look with her, as if to say: Tell me he will not be so coarse all this while. Or perhaps she only reads that into his look because it is what is going through her own mind. Either way, she feels a sharp urge to apologise, for she had not entirely thought through how bringing her uncouth husband to a king's hall might spoil the manners of the whole place.
But still, she reminds herself, it is worth it; for they are here, and she is home, and no matter how jealously Jaime may feel the need to remind them all that it is a temporary visit, still it is a weight from her heart to be here at all. It is worth it, then, to shepherd Jaime through the intricacies of what comes so easily to her; and she must remember, too, that she made her own mistakes as a stranger in his land, and he cannot be blamed if he makes some, too. (The fact that she has tried a great deal harder than he appears to, while it is unavoidable, is not something she will let herself linger on. She will not be sour, will not seek trouble with him; this is a joyous occasion, and she must let it be so.)
"Grim I am," she agrees, rather than credit his other comments with response, "but glad, too, for I have long wished to show you my noble home. And before any such admiration comes, we will stop at the King's stables; and you may see then why I am so unforgiving of Westerosi horseflesh, when you see a full compliment of horses whose Mearas blood runs true." She turns her head to look at her brother, as he climbs into his own saddle and urges his horse into a walk. "It is a shame we did not see Shadowfax on our way, Éomer, for he would have made even my lord Jaime admit to the nobility of your stables at once. Does he still roam here?"
"When Gandalf has no need of him. You may yet find him, I believe; he runs as wild as ever, these past few months." The king seems distracted, looking between the two of them as his horse draws up beside them, beginning back towards the city. "Tell me, Lord Jaime, should I speak Westron alone? I thought to aid you in managing the Rohirric tongue, but if you would sooner I did not..."