Closed [The Rearing Stallion] Here We Go (Hadyn)

[Orion Michaels]

Orion, 15th Day of Spring, 21st Bell, 513 AV The Rearing Stallion was bustling this night, as was the norm. Everyone had worked hard while Syna was shining brilliantly over the city of Syliras, but of course, few would have interaction with it. So many Sylirans worked deep within Stormhold Castle, and as a result, the light of day wasn't always something they were given a chance to appreciate. Orion had been one of those people today. A long day was spent in study, learning about the knights, their history, their organization, and gods it was tiring. Captain Knight Lorene was either drilling him to get him in better physical shape, or forcing volumes of knowledge on him. She clearly didn't wish the man to take as long as a normal squire would, so she was relentless. Orion didn't mind, at least so far, but boy was it exhausting. After returning all the equipment he'd checked out for various training events, Orion had started on his way to the Rearing Stallion. He needed a drink, and badly. Words clouded his mind, a torrential downpour of information being forced into his mind. It made him feel dumb. As a doctor, he was one of the best the city had to offer, his skilled hands saving many lives. Yet, as a man of battle, as a warrior of the blade, he was the bottom rung of a ladder. Men, no, boys ten years his junior could defeat him in combat, and it frustrated him to no end. In a fat mug of ale, though, there was always a friend to be found. Orion had taken his normal seat at the tavern; it was towards the corner of the room with visibility on most of the locale, especially the entrance. In a rare event he wasn't even looking for companionship, but habit returned him always. With a cool drink in front of him and empty seats about him, the blue eyed man simply waited for time to pass. Three bells remained until his ridiculous curfew was in effect for the night, so he was going to relax and enjoy every one of them whilst he could.

[Hadyn Skellig]

It was looking to be an early night for the blacksmith, her fingers aching from the day’s labor, expression drawn. Commissions to the smithy had kept her exceptionally busy and out of the sunlight. Despite the steady warmth of the season, the woman found herself holed up for most of the day, which left her somewhat despondent (if not altogether grumpy). Despite her conscience doggedly protesting each step to the Rearing Stallion Hadyn made her way to the tavern for one, perhaps two mugs of ale before turning in. She was dressed for work, finding neither the time nor the inclination to change clothes. The sorrel britches, though newly washed yesterday, held a patina of fine dust as one might accumulate in a smithy. The rust colored chemise was form fitting, a necessary when working in an environment that afforded no room for the error of loose clothing. Modesty was achieved via a dark leather vest, cinched up the front and also bearing the well-worn character of an item owned for many years. The blacksmith’s chestnut hair, though slightly unruly after the day’s trials was contained in a loose plait, the braid falling over one shoulder as she encouraged the old door open. She entered the establishment with a passive, albeit firm expression. She wasn’t looking for trouble nor did she invite it. Bootclad feet moved her past the patrons, brown eyes focused on her goal. Having finally reached the bar, one foot claiming rest on the rung of a barstool, the woman greeted and ordered in one sentence. Her voice was of the softer variety, low and unassuming. Taking a glance around, she swept her gaze across the tavern, fortunately finding no one of direct acquaintance. It was a drink-in-sullen-silence kind of night. Hadyn took stock of the nearest exit (as brawls were not entirely uncommon here) as well as selecting the more seedy characters. Unfortunately as she turned back to the bar, it appeared she missed one. “I’d buy you the drink but I know you make a pretty Miza at yer forge,” a slurred voice intoned to her left. Sliding a bemused if not annoyed gaze to its owner, Hadyn found the visage of a man she’d had the displeasure of meeting last season though she couldn't place where. He was a bear of a man, though in his inebriated state he appeared more lethargic than dangerous. He leaned toward her as if to hear the response she was clearly not affording him. When it was obvious she wasn’t planning to answer, he shrugged one beastly shoulder and took another swig and eyed her. “Y’can’t come in here like that and not s’pect to be spoken too,” he drawled. It was, she admitted, a valid point. She wasn’t attempting an incognito affect and the tavern was not exactly full of pious sober men. But there seemed to be more than enough willing giggling ladies with bosoms overflowing from lacey tops to keep the like of this man entertained. But it wasn’t until he laid his hand over hers that she reacted, pulling it away and facing him squarely. “My apologies,” she answered in a stern voice. “I should have made it clear to you earlier that I am in no need of a companion tonight.” Her words were direct, though her tone remained quiet and modest. He stared at her for a moment, processing her words before snorting. Or perhaps it was a laugh. “Jus’ a drink, right?” he chuckled, flecked spit flying errantly. “Y’don’t come to the Stallion lookin’ to be alone.” “Indeed,” Hadyn replied, working quickly for an answer to escape with. “In fact I was here to meet my husband.” The word was significantly mumbled, but she was hoping it would go unnoticed by the drunk. Her husband? Smashing plan, she reproached herself, hiding a scowl as she took a drink from her mug. Hopefully the lout would take his interests elsewhere but he leaned toward her, as if being closer to the woman’s face would help discern her honesty. A wonderful pickle she’d gotten herself into.

[Orion Michaels]

Orion hadn't really expected to do any work tonight. As he watched what unfolded after a woman entered it became abundantly clear that he wouldn't have much choice. While he was just a squire, there was a duty he still needed to uphold. Harassment was unacceptable, right? But it didn't really matter what his profession was. A pretty woman being bothered by a man much larger than she wasn't something he could really let slide. "Here we go..." Orion downed his drink, grabbed his sword from the table in front of him, and rose to his feet. After securing the weapon to his side, he began to make his way over to try and defuse the situation.

The drunkard was well within the woman's personal space, Orion noted, and somehow she remained calm. In a similar situation many men had received a slap, or worse. In fact, Orion had been on the receiving end of more than his fair share of a swift strike across his face. Simple misunderstandings some of the time, but overaggressive intentions were not out of the frame, either.

"Now now, friend. I believe the lady has made it abundantly clear she wishes nothing to do with you. I've noticed this from across this tavern. What is it which makes it so difficult for you to comprehend?" His hand felt to the hilt of his long sword as he glanced down at it to prove his point. "I'd recommend that you go along and enjoy your drinks peaceably, because the alternative isn't all that pleasant. I shan't allow this to continue."

The man looked away from the slender brunette to turn his attention on the annoying man ruining his smooth moves. "I ain't hurtin' no one, vagik. Leave me and the lady be and we don't be havin' any problems. Who'd ya think ya are, anyways?"

Orion grinned, glancing over to the distressed woman. She'd set this up all too easy, and for that, he'd have to congratulate her later. "Why, this is my wife you're trying to get your lecherous hands on. I've made the utmost effort to be civil with you, but I'm afraid you're trying my patience." He pulled on the sword, slightly exposing the blade. The glint of silver teased in a threat of violence, as his gaze fell back on the burly man. "I suggest you be on your way." Orion wasn't anything intimidating, but maybe, just maybe, the blade would be enough to make him yield.

[Hadyn Skellig]

Hadyn resisted the immediate urge to snort at the luck of it all. Had she actually expected it to play so smoothly? Of course not. Swallowing a surprised glance at her handsome savior the woman instead adopted an agreeable smirk. Thankfully the drunkard did not appear interested in incurring her husband's wrath. Ducking his head in an inebriated apology he pulled his mug from the bar's surface, mumbling some nonsense to himself as he moved away sluggishly. Once the man departed Hadyn turned her attention to her new-found spouse. A slight smile curved the corner of her lips, an eyebrow arching as she wrapped a hand around her drink. It was not exactly her intention to rope in a suitor, much less a husband, but she had to admit if this had been her plan all the while, she'd deserve a huge pat on the back. "I suppose I owe you my gratitude," she stated earnestly, brown eyes taking his features in placidly. Gods, she'd snared an attractive one tonight. Keep it up, Haddie, she praised herself inwardly. While not one to play coy or overtly enthusiastic she did offer him an appreciative smile. He did, afterall, get her out of a potential tight spot.

[Orion Michaels]

Relief washed over his countenance as somehow the man had backed down. It seemed impossible, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. A smirk jumped on his lips as he released his grip on his blade and turned to focus on the woman he'd managed to rescue. "My my my. That guy was something else. You always attract that type or are you just lucky tonight?" He gave her a half bow before continuing. "You owe me nothing, miss. Just stay safe, watch out for horrible men, and have a good evening."

With that, Orion turned on his heels and began to take strides away going back to his table in the corner. Before the distance was too far, however, he paused and looked back over his shoulder to toss an offer her way. "Though, if you should find yourself being harassed by any more oafs, courted by any further vagabonds, or are just bored and need a seat, feel free to join me. I may even treat you to a drink." Blue eyes lingered on her for just a second longer, drinking in her features. Did she come here often? How had he missed her? Beautiful brown eyes, a slender body, light skin, and dark brunette hair? Maybe this would be a good night after all.

Orion removed his weapon from his side, placing it on the table before him before taking his seat once again. With a wave on his hand, he motioned for another drink. Come on, stranger. He looked over her way again, flashing a quick grin while he waited for his drink. He wasn't looking for anything particular tonight, but he couldn't lie, a pretty woman always intrigued him.

[Hadyn Skellig]

It was over as quickly as it began, the drunk wandering away on some errand and her husband departing with an eloquent farewell. She watched him turn back to extend an invitation and, despite her conscience, Hadyn found herself willing to take him up. He retreated to his table, catching her gaze with a handsome grin. After a moment, the blacksmith made her way to his location, mug in hand. Standing opposite of his chair she placed the drink down with a sideways glance toward the bar. Their interaction with the drunk hardly warranted any attention from their fellow patrons, though a few took note of the sudden exodus from the bar. Returning her gaze to the man, she offered a grin in return. "It'd probably raise suspicions if I didn't follow my husband to his seat," she remarked frankly as she sat. While she wasn't particularly in the mood to act coy or otherwise intriguing there was something about the man that was magnetic. Could she have resisted his charm and blue eyes? Of course. But she felt she at least owed him her company for his intervention with the drunk. Having grown up with several older brothers Hadyn was not well versed in the subtleties of feminine grace or posture. Instead she sat with both feet square on the floor, one arm resting on the tabletop, the other on one thigh. In the past there'd been a bedfellow or two that commented on her lack of ladylike etiquette. But considering they had no qualms getting into bed with her, Hadyn didn't see the problem. "I can't imagine how I missed you here before," she quipped with a glance down his body before returning to his face. "Are you new to the city?"

[Orion Michaels]

"If that's what you need to tell yourself to come over to me, then lie and lie again. It's a pleasure to meet you, my beautiful wife." It was too far over the top. He couldn't help himself though. It was all too rich. "Though I should check. How far will flattery get me? I'd be ashamed to take the wrong approach." He took a slow sip from his drink, eyes dancing over his mug while he watched the friendly stranger. Amusement sang on his face; the woman put forth no act. She was who she was. An open posture, very unladylike, but endearing and so much better than the fake floozies he'd come across in this tavern.

No complaints from this guy. No matter, she didn't know who he was, and that was generally good news for him. Very rarely did his reputation do him any favors, and starting below the curve wasn't in his plans. Just a friendly encounter was all either of them were looking for, right?

"New?" He let out a soft chuckle. Of all the things Orion had been called, new was certainly not one of them. Monster. Handsome. Pervert. Misogynistic. Wonderful. Horrible. Amazing. Disgusting. But new? That one was, well, new. "I'd say not. I almost live here. How about yourself? Just come in through the gates? I owe you several drinks if you're not. There's not a chance I'd not have at least introduced myself otherwise." He extended an open hand over the table in greeting. "Orion Michaels. Misguided squire of Captain Knight Dinah Lorene. Shocked, I know. I imagine you'd pinned me for an art model."

[Hadyn Skellig]

A smile lit her features as he employed an eloquent response to her arrival. Charming and a quick witted. Hopefully words weren't his tongue's only forte. She canted her head in reply to his question of flattery. Not often taken with frivolous compliments, Hadyn couldn't deny well spoken adulation coupled with a drink and a smile. "Well met," she answered, accepting his hand for a firm and brief shake. "You could very well be an art model and squire, though I couldn't put a Miza on which is your day job. And no, like you I call this fine city home." Her voice was of a softer register, smooth if not slightly smokey. Too many years in a forge kept vocal chords from the shriller airy quality women 'round here seemed to use. Brushing a dark strand of hair behind one ear, the smith placed a hand at the base of her mug, the silver ring clinking once against the earthenware. "I'm Hadyn Skellig, weaponsmith at Sultros," she nodded her head in the general direction, the previously situated curl of hair escaping again. "Can't imagine how I missed a fellow like you. You don't exactly fade into the woodwork."

[Orion Michaels]

"Oh stop it," he replied, laughing and shaking his head. "You're likely to make me blush at this rate. Aren't you quite the charmer?" It was a welcome change of pace, that was no doubt. An aggressive, gorgeous woman who tried to put him on the defensive? Hadn't met many in his days who put all those features together in one lovely package. She seemed sane enough, too. Hopefully it's not an act..

He raised an eyebrow at her line of work. "I mean no offense, but color me surprised. I'd never have guessed a weapon smith. Honestly, I couldn't have placed you at all," he remarked, leaning forward in his chair slightly as she spoke. Nodding in mock agreement he replied. "All those hours working metal give you tunnel vision? It's rumored that I single handedly keep this place in business. Anyways, I guess I owe you all those drinks, huh? You wouldn't like to little old me for a couple mugs, would you?" Wasn't this one something else?

"I'd suggest you take them all right now. If you're going to flirt so forwardly, I'd like to accelerate things a little," he teased, a quick wink coming in followup. "Or if you'd rather take it a little slower, I hear anticipation makes the heart grow fonder, or something like that." He let out a soft chuckle before hiding his face in his drink again. She knew what she wanted, that was for sure.

[Hadyn Skellig]

Hadyn offered one shrugged shoulder at his response to her profession, brushing that piece of hair back again. It wasn't exactly the most feminine of jobs, but she made it work for her. Taking another swig from the mug, brown eyes watched him over the rim. His second comment on tunnel vision caused a snort from the woman, though she hadn't quite finished her drink. Setting the mug down hastily and covering her mouth with the opposite hand, the blacksmith coughed once before the alcohol slid down obediently. Licking her top lip to remove capricious liquid, she glanced at him. "Tunnel vision," she repeated with a grin. "Yes, something like that. And I will take you up on those drinks here and now. Before I have the chance to change my mind and find myself another husband." She winked at him, settling into the chair once more. "But don't expect to pay for all this merrymaking yourself. As a lady with an income I have every intention of squandering mizas away on a dashing stranger." She was becoming rather fond of this Orion, though it plagued her how to two hadn't come into contact yet. Likely they'd already be bedfellows if they had (providing he was of similar mindset). Hadyn certainly hadn't anticipated meeting such an individual when she left Sultros this late bell. But she wasn't one to pass up an opportunity and unlike some men, he didn't seem appalled by her forwardness or candor.