Snippet #1494272

((OOC: I will type more for Dante when Nasrin gets in the mix.))

~~~NUALA~~~

"I understand necessity, Jamie." She said levelly, watching the sad half-smile forming on his face. "You are moping again." She allowed herself to let go of Eubha's reins and extend her hand across the space between them and place it upon his armored shoulder.

"You allowed me to join your ranks. And I did." She took her hand back and retook the reins. "That is as good as a promise to stay." Nuala was not the sort who could put things well into words. She meant to get across the point that she did not mean to abandon him at any point and that she would stay there through it all. He was feeling downtrodden as of late and she would be blind to not see it. Hissing out breath and irritation, she made up her mind to say more.

"There is an old Northern saying: Cha'n eil fealladh ann cho mòr ris an gealladh gun choimhlionadh. There is no deceit so great as a promise unfulfilled." Her annunciations of the words were measured and careful. She did not want to confuse him with the sounds of a language spoken in the far reaches of the North. She had grown listening to motley of the Common Tongue and the Old Tongue being spoken about her. It was the Old Tongue she had grown to speak first and Common second. The words were almost unfitting when spoken out beyond the Wall. They were (for the most part) short, simple, and descriptive -- unsuited for Westeros where words are meant to jump about and not get to the point.

It was more than Nuala was usually comfortable voicing and she shifted in discomfort atop Eubha. "The Sons of the Mist. More dueling, without doubt." She switched the subject and her voice hitched up in approval. What honor was lacking out on the raids was made up for in the duels between Jamie and the leaders of the Mountain Clans. It was very similar to Wildling ways, in some respects. She was not worried for him. Jamie had won each time so far and she did not expect failure.

~~~DANTE~~~

The past two months had been filled with a tension that Dante did not like which he was met with on the few times he and King Damian met face to face. Dante had a distinct gut feeling that the man would be planning on hanging him in the future. What Dante was counting on right now was not outliving his own usefulness. 'And if I do, I will merely run off again.'

In order to make himself scarce that day Dante decided to go in search of Nasrin (who was, most likely, in the gardens).