[center][h3]Scyrven Talyrrth and Gwillim Gunnvaldr[/h3][sub]
Husband and Wife of Hestia Gristmill [@eclecticwitch]
[sub][@tracyarmav] told me I could puppet sorry if I wrote him wrong and also sorry for nearly-double-posting}[/sub][/sub][/center]

After the... excitement of the near-assassination, the tournament quickly returned to its daily grind. Scyrven herself fought in two more battles that day, emerging victorious quickly in both and progressing to the second day of the tournament.

She had quickly scrubbed herself down with a cloth and basin of cool water, provided for likely that exact purpose, channeling cool air through her armor to dry the batting inside while she cleaned up. Thus refreshed, she tucked her helmet away in its pack, bundling away all weapons but her sword, which still hung from her belt. She wore the rest of her armor as they descended into the great room, not so complacent in a room full of hungry, tired, ...frustrated lords. She linked arms with Gwillim, leaning against her mate's side companionably while they waited.

As the guardsman approached, Gem in tow, her eyes went a bit wide, the reality of the situation finally settling over her. A Bride. As far as culture indicated, they were little more than playthings - pets, if one was feeling exceptionally generous. But Scyrven was eager all the same... she vowed to herself that she would not take the bride for her own fun, not until the girl agreed. While many males would force themselves on their wives that very night, as was their right and even ostensibly their duty - the whole purpose of the arrangement was for procreation - she would have only done so for her own pleasure, and she was not so cruel as to do that to a helpless individual. Even if she [i]was[/i] desperate... aside from some brief fooling when she was very young and still at her father's court, Scyrven had hardly had time to refine her... tastes, and now the opportunity was tantalizingly close.

Of course, to coax the girl to her bed she would have to woo her. Eyes of molten amber snapped back to focus on the guard, just in time to hear his parting remark of "...bear you more strong children." A faint swell of pride filled her then- yes. Alfhi was strong and lovely already. There would be more children soon, she was certain of it. Especially with the offering of this lass.

Speaking of... Scyrven's eyes narrowed a bit as she inspected the girl, stepping away from her mate's side to reach out. A pretty, demure thing, very soft and gentle looking. She reached out, gently taking one of the girl's hands (dwarfing it in her own long fingers) and bending surprisingly gracefully to place a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, the points of her forward-curling horns just missing the girl's skin, skimming to either side of her fingers. As she straightened, she gently caught the girl's chin with the fingers of her free hand, lightly tilting her head back and slightly gasping, despite herself, as the girl's jade eyes and golden freckles caught the flickering light. Oh, she was [i]pretty.[/i] Perhaps not in the same way as the girls who looked to be made of porcelain, the girls being handed out on either side of them, but... still strikingly gorgeous.

She laughed, then, stepping back and tightening her grip on the girl's hand, gently twirling her about once before pulling the small Gem in under her arm and against her side in a rather possessive way, maintaining her hold of her hand. The girl almost certainly could feel the strength in her arms, in her assured way of catching her. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, pretty one. My name is Scyrvensrel Talyrrth, and I have the honor of presenting my - well, I suppose [i]our[/i], husband - Gwillim Gunnvaldr. What is your name, if I may have the honor of knowing it?" Her words came easily, but the inflection was just slightly off, the faint stiffness of her body betraying her uncertainty. She made a (forced, but attempting to be) graceful gesture to Gwillim, only then noticing her husband's piercing scowl, directed at the back of the retreating guardsman. 

Upon realizing they were only to be offered the one bride, Gwillim set his mouth in an impassive expression, studying the guard and weighing his words carefully. All around them various lords were being given pairs of brides, and yet they had only been offered the one. Disdainful. Was this really what decades of loyalty and service to the crown had earned them? His mate's prowess in command would have earned any man at least one bride, and his own various... projects and other favours for the crown princes should have - and probably could have, had he gone to inquire - secured promise of one from each. 

As he processed what the guard said, however, he relaxed slightly, a faint pride swelling him. No slight was meant by it really, of that he assured himself. It was even intended as a compliment to his mate, perhaps - that she would be able to conceive a son, and this Gem was merely here to smooth the process out. 

After considering for a split-second, Gwillim offered a slight dip of the head to the guardsman, speaking quietly. "We are humbled by his majesty's grace and congratulations, and thank him profusely for his generous gift to us." There. Simple, just enough grace and kowtowing to avoid winding up on the wrong end of a blade. 

As the guardsman turned away he let out a soft growl, turning away to his mate and putting his arm lightly around her shoulders, loosely sandwiching the Gem girl between them. Scyrven leaned up into his embrace.

"I think we should go to the market after the feast," she murmured to him, loud enough that the Gem could hear. "Find some pretty clothes - such a beautiful thing deserves something more comfortable than a Gemmenite court dress." She shuddered lightly, vividly remembering her own humiliating days of being stuffed into a Gem-shaped corseted gown, and getting a soft chuckle from Gwillim.