10.20.3013: What's New Pussycat?
Summary: Jarek and Agnes chat in the Drakholt about their future, and Agnes receives her kitten.
Date: 26 September 2013
Related: None.
Agnes Jarek 

Sitting Room — Drakholt, Spikka
See Log
20 October 3013

In the sitting rooms of the Drakholt, Jarek is lounging on a spartan looking reclining chair. His arm in a sling still as he studies read outs on a datapad. Back for a couple weeks and he's swamped in work, having been told by his father that he needs to make up for time lost in the hospital due to his reckless attempt to leave before staff said he could. Jarek has a cup of coffee on the table next to him.

Agnes has been staying in a guest room, and getting used to the stronghold of Spikka as her future home. She's been getting to know the troops, and has been training with them daily. Today, however, she is finished with work, and enters the sitting room in a simple dark blue cotehardie. "Jarek," she greets, her face brightening at the sight of him. "Still buried under paperwork?"

Jarek looks up and his worry marked, frustrated face smooths with a smile. "I have a feeling the castellan purposefully makes up some of these issues just to screw with me." He sets the datapad down and picks up his coffee, "How's today going for you? I don't see you as much as I would like… suddenly being off the field like I am has become even more unbearable."

"You should be healed up soon, I hope? Today went well. I'm trying to build respect with the house military," Agnes notes. She settles into a chair near him and leans back in it, smiling. "You should come down and watch sometime. I think the troops are used to you being there."

Jarek watches her with a smile, before a soft mewling gets a look from Jarek and Sir Whittles pads softly out with a mouse between his teeth. He struggles to reach up and plop the gift into Jay's lap. The knight reaches down and picks the kitten up, setting him into his lap and stroking his purring ball of long haird fluff. "According to Pyotr I should be fine to start working on my physio again this week. He just says to take it slow… but he's also pampering me I'm sure." he chuckles, "They respect you fine, just have to get used to someone who doesn't know Saimhann war methods as naturally as one who was born into them. I will come and watch though. And a bit of advice… they're used to me heckling them, picking neither side as my favorite. You point out the other for doing poorly when one succeeds. The bravado of our house likes its ego stroked. Do the opposite and they work hard to feel like they did something."

Agnes arches a brow at Sir Whittles. "When did you get a cat?" she asks, surprised. She didn't even know Jarek had a pet.

"About the same time you did." Jarek states and a man with a well scratched face comes in holding another kitten with scrunchy face and not so happy expression at arms length. "Lady sir Agnes… I believe this is yours." The small cat is unceremoniously plopped into Agnes' lap. Jarek smiles, "Surprise! Kaedin's cleo had kittens, I secured us each one. This is Sir Whittles that is… hm." he taps his chin to the mewling detest of the purring fluff in his lap.

The black and smoke kitten hisses at Jarek and makes a rather demonic sound, before it curls up on Agnes' chest and headbutts her chin, purring. "I will have to find him a name. He's ah, well he seems to like me well enough." Everyone else though. Very like Argent.

"Why do you think I picked him?" Jarek chuckles softly, "Just hope it doesn't try to claim your chest as its perch… I've already staked that claim. I still aim to collect one of these days." There's a playful wink and smile before he hms softly, "We should consider planning the wedding… and perhaps figuring out who all to speak with about it. I'm not sure how that all works to be honest. I'd never taken the time to really pay attention to it, until now."

"I thought your father wanted it to be a lengthy betrothal?" Agnes asks, as she scritches the kitten curled up on her gently.

Jarek hms and nods, "Something like that. He wants us to make absolutely sure this is what we want… and he wants to give you time to get used to Spikka and the soldiery. How is the soldiery doing?"

"They're doing well for the most part, Jarek. I think they were concerned, deeply, until we came home from what was surely a suicide mission. It gave them hope that this isn't an insurmountable foe." Agnes looks out the window as she strokes the cat lightly. "As for Spikka, it's not that different from Khar Mordune, other than being above ground."

"A lot of them are semi-related to the main family. Distant relatives but we're all so close knit it's like one giant main line." Jarek's kitten Sir Whittles gets up and streeeeeetches before hopping down and scampering off, leaving the mouse gift in Jarek's lap. He waves over someone who takes the present and leaves, probably to dispose of it. "Another thing I'll have to add to the 'upgrades'… wait a second. The Drakholt doesn't have mice… damn that cousin of mine." he shakes his head. "And yes, Spikka is a lot like Khar Mordune. I did actually find my stay there pleasant, despite what trying to leave must have looked like." he pauses, "I'm sorry about that."

"I understand why you did. After so many hospital stays myself, I know what it feels like to just want to get the hell out of there, and back to your life." Agnes smiles at him, and sets her kitten down. It yowl and chases after Sir Whittles with a terrifying galumphing.

"I hope your cat doesn't try to eat mine… that would be disappointing. I like Sir Whittles… and I won't be making a loin cloth out of him like Purdo." Jarek hms softly, "There was another reason. I'd been watching the same tabloids over and over, and I started to worry that if it seemed like we were being inappropriate prior to our marriage, my father might consider us immature about it and… and…" he closes his eyes, "I panicked at the thought of that happening, so I tried to leave to make it look like we we're being responsible." he smiles softly, "My father said I'm being a fool by thinking such things."

"Jarek, we're grown adults, not teenagers," Agnes points out. We've both waited far longer than the norm to marry, so I'm fairly sure your father isn't worried that we're rushing anything. If we were, this would have happened a decade or more ago."

Jarek nods, "Yeah… though a decade ago would have been nice… I had just gotten loaned to the Chantry. Five years of nothing." he pouts playfully, "It's hard for me to want to wait to be married to you because now that it's actually going to happen… I just want it to happen. You know?"

"I know, love. Speak with your father. Ask him to set a date for us. That will show him you are willing to concede to his wisdom in the matter, and he may make the betrothal shorter for that," Agnes suggests with a small smile, ever patient.

"If he could hear how well you guide me… he'd not have worked against us for so long." Jarek comments before nodding, "I'll write him… and I think he's got another match to worry about now too. It would seem Pyo has captured the eye of an Iah…" he chuckles and shakes his head.

"He has? Well good for him. Good people, House Iah. Which one? I know young Elodie is already betrothed to a Valen." Agnes seems curious about his brother's match.

Jarek shrugs, "I am not sure… Lady Sir Jordis I think… but that was in a tabloid. Something about him being asked to dinner and her wearing a rather revealing dress." Jarek chuckles, "I hope you don't think me young, Agnes, you seem to call everyone we know young."

You say, "Lady Elodie is only just 21," Agnes points out. She is young, compared to us Jarek." She chuckles."

"Yes, most of the non heirs are young… though I now have an aunt who's a decade my junior." Jarek puzzles at that for a moment, "I am surprised that uncle Kazimir agreed to the marriage, he's older than both of us by several years."

"Have you asked him why? I have yet to spend much time with Lady Brianny. Perhaps they mesh on some level?" Agnes seems amused. "Of course, you are some seven years my junior."

Jarek blinks, "I am?" he chuckles, "Really? I honestly though you perhaps three, four years at the most. Actually two was my guess. I knew you were older, but I did not realize." he smiles, "As for uncle Kazimir? I have not had much chance to speak with him since their marriage. However, it was a political agreement. Their house offered it up so that we would stop the attack on them. I remember when the command came through from my father to pull the troops out."

"Interesting," Agnes notes. "I would like to get to know them, and your brother and his lady, better. We will be family, soon hopefully, and I don't want to be a stranger to them."

Jarek nods, "I'll send out mail to all of them… and see if I can't call together a bit family dinner with the lot of us. Do it right Saimhann, so be ready to tell the tales of your conquests. Also… have you considered getting tattoos?"

Agnes blinks at the last request. "I have not. I don't believe I intend to either. I am not fond of needles in any forms, as I have been stuck with them far too much in hospitals."

"Oh but Agnes, they are the tradition of the house… we'll be expected to get matching ones after our marriage. I have one from when you said yes." Jarek states. "It doesn't hurt, okay… it depends on where you get it, but they don't hurt for the most part."

"What sort of tradition requires someone to mark their body against their will?" Agnes asks. It looks like this isn't something the knight is willing to do. "Jarek, I am willing to do many, many things to be with you, but that is not one of them. My body is my domain and I choose what is done to it."

Jarek hms, "Well, I don't think they'd force you to do it. And I don't care if you're not going to. Just that it's a tradition for us to get tattoos that symbolize major or significant things in our lives." he smiles softly, "I would never expect anything of you Agnes, and I'm on your side. Again, I doubt the family would make it a requirement, and I'd be the first to stand against any you didn't feel comfortable with."

Agnes lets out a relieved breath at that. There might be more to her dislike of getting tattooed, but if there is, she's not speaking on it just yet. "I will wear my wedding ring, and the colors of your house, for that. Thank you, Jarek."

Jarek smiles, then gets a playful grin. "What if I got you one of those wash off tattoos they give out as prizes at FUNtasia?" He laughs softly, "I'm kidding… just have to tease you a little bit." he pauses, "I wish you'd known me my whole life Agnes… I was so much more fun in my youth than I am now."

Agnes chuckles at that and rises from her seat, offering a hand to help him up from his chair. "I think I've never been fun, really. But I'm learning to enjoy fun more with you." She smiles gently. "Come, lets go for a walk, you need a break from the paperwork, and I need some fresh air."

Jarek takes her hand and stands up, "You? Fun?" Jarek brushes a light kiss to her cheek, "I've become old." he teases again as he starts to walk with her, hand in hand instead of arm escort. "Fresh air and a break sound nice. Shall we get something cool to drink as well?"

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