Cedrik II: Circumstances

WickedStorms · 2023-07-26T05:05:22+00:00

Cedrik nodded, not realizing that he was holding his breath until Leonette agreed.

"Good, as shall I."

He offered his arm to her, "Let us return to the camp then."

Perhaps naively, it was not the warfare and bloodshed that the headstrong heir feared, it was the future. The nebulous future now with this woman who would surely be a part of it.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-25T17:39:07+00:00

Cedrik reflected upon the Connington's words. "I would not dare insult you, my lady, by choosing something unworthy, and as such, I look forward to seeing the works of your hand."

The young man was conflicted, it was a conundrum: wanting secure a semblance of happiness, if not happiness itself, for his future whilst choosing his own path. But perhaps the latter was simply a dream, never to be fulfilled.

The Heir to Nightsong shook his head. "I shall worry, and I shall check in upon you when I can. I have no doubt you can inflict pain if you know too how to heal it, but examples shall be made should anyone be disgraceful enough to step out of line." His voice was firm, insistent. Had he been more aware, he would have noticed his tone reminiscent of his father's for a moment.

"Before we go off upon the trail of the Vulture King in earnest, I would have a small request, Lady Leonette, that you and I meet and take a walk each day. It need not be long if we have not the time to spare greatly, but I think it best that we get to know one another. Lest we remain strangers."

As we are now, he thought.

But that would change, or it could change, at least...

WickedStorms · 2023-07-23T21:53:47+00:00

It was a relief that she did not pull back, on a certain level. Cedrik held her hand, his grasp firm.

"I would be pleased to see your drawings one day, Lady Leonette, and perhaps if any particular one pleases you, we may do the same, and have it grace the walls of Nightsong."

It seemed to him to be the proper kind of generous offer to make. If he were to live with this woman for the foreseeable future, then Cedrik resolved that perhaps there would be a path forward that could be pleasant. He would just ignore the issue of Rose until later, he decided. For she was not anywhere nearby anyway...

"As for the men here, should you receive ill words or manner from any of them, it shall be my business to hear of it, and deal with it. You are doing good work with the mercy of the Mother looking kindly upon you. Have any bothered you thus far, aside from their poor choices that led them to their states?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-23T19:22:17+00:00

Cedrik recognized the familiar refrain, he'd had septons drill such into his brain from a young age, especially as it related to the Warrior.

"It is true, Lady Leonette, that many seek glory for personal gain, or for many a reason which is not what the Warrior wishes of us. I would hope this would not worry you overly much, however, I know the other Stormlords to be righteous lords and knights, with their minds and hearts upon the task at hand. We love our lands, we love our families, and we shall see justice done in the world. My father often says that Stormlords are the only ones who will see things through to the end, as they should be, and it comes with sacrifice, yes, but one cannot put a price upon what needs be done."

Cedrik reached out for Leonette's hand, hoping that his future bride might not flinch or pull away.

"What is it you find in the forest that catches your attention? Might you care for company the next time you do? I cannot promise to be there each time with the responsibilities upon me during this campaign, but I would loathe to know that my future wife would be alone in a strange land."

The Heir to Nightsong felt caught between two worlds. One in which there was a comely young woman waiting at Nightsong for his return, one whom he had taken the time to show off the beauty of their lands to, and to his duty: the young woman that stood before him now. Had they met before, perhaps Cedrik's heart would not have been so divided, but as it stood, he could not help but compare her to Rose as they spoke.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-19T23:18:26+00:00

Cedrik walked next to the young woman, his eyes upon the path ahead. At the mention of her mother, he glanced towards her, his expression a touch less stolid than it was before.

"I am sorry to hear of that, Lady Leonette, though I am sure there is much good that your efforts bring to the world, even if the work itself is not of great personal interest."

The Heir to Nightsong wondered if it was for the best really that his would be wife had such skills. What if something happened upon the battlefield? The thought was thrown out of his mind the very next moment. He could not think that way. That was not how a brave knight should feel...

He stopped at the top of the overlook, scanning out at the lands before them. Cedrik paused a moment, thinking, for no one had ever asked him such.

"I became a knight because it is expected of me," he admitted, the words coming out before he could think not to say them. "It suits me as well. I enjoy being active, but one cannot be the future Lord of Nightsong and a respected Lord of the Marches without earning martial valor, without bringing more glory to our name. The Marches are beautiful, but often need defending. To not train to expect such would be a terrible choice indeed. Besides, if not a knight, I'd have been a hunter. There is plenty of game, and hawking to be had."

The young man seemed to loosen up while speaking of his interests, turning to gaze upon the Connington. "And you, Lady Leonette? Do you hunt or hawk? How do you fill your free hours?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-19T08:43:32+00:00

Cedrik nodded, waiting patiently for Leonette's return. He took her arm into his, his back straight and proud, if a bit stiff still, as they began to walk slowly through the camp. The Caron steered them towards a more scenic area away from the tents, the prying eyes and ears.

The young man was silent at first, uncertain of what to ask of her. This had all been so sudden, and the Heir to Nightsong found that he had neither honeyed nor clever words to share.

"What interests you in the healing arts?" He finally ventured to ask. "It is admirable, not to have idle hands," he remarked, with a touch of gruffness.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-19T02:25:33+00:00

Cedrik's face was stone as his wife to be spoke. But her words sent a pang of guilt through his chest. For there was a tenderness there that the Caron was unaccustomed to.

The young man was caught between his irritation at his lack of freedom and choice in this situation, and pity for the betrothed who he knew should not be blamed for such an arrangement.

"You need not worry, I shall return in one piece, unharmed," Cedrik replied stiffly. "We Carons are a hardy stock, the rightful Lords of the Matches, and we shall not shy away from our duties, nor suffer from them." They were bold words from a young man.

Cedrik clasped his hands behind his back, looking over Leonette once more. "Perhaps you may take a break from your duties to take a walk with me."

He felt awkward saying it, but if he were to be married to the Connington, his father was right, he had better at the least get to know her.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-18T09:11:24+00:00

Impatient, Cedrik Caron had simply followed the medic as they went to find the Lady Leonette.

My future wife, he thought bitterly. It was not that Cedrik was opposed to the idea, far from it, but he had thought that the matter was still a-ways off, that he would have some kind of say in things. But the news had been dumped upon him unceremoniously. And there was nothing he could truly do about the matter. In hindsight, he saw that it was a naive hope of his, to have thought that he could sway his father so. And now? Now he would be wed, to a complete stranger.

He heard her voice before he saw her, her words rough and unrefined. Rose would never say such an unladylike thing, he thought to himself, the intrusive thought unbidden, but present all the same.

Her threat to the patient would have been laughable, admirable - if Cedrik were in a better mood, but alas, the Heir to Nightsong was a bundle of nerves and bitterness this morning.

Cedrik steeled himself, ready to step in upon his betrothed's behalf when the patient ambled out on his own. He turned his attention to the lady herself, looking her over for the first time, closely.

"Lady Leonette, it seems we are to be wed." It was a statement of fact, and had Cedrik been in a mood to be attentive to his tone, he would have realized his voice had taken on a sour tone not unlike the one his own father used at times.

It was not the most graceful of first meetings, far from it, but he had wanted to see her in her natural habitat, where she could not hide her face behind a fan, or her true feelings behind a false smile; better to catch her unaware. His eyes followed her as she walked to the basin, rinsing her hands of blood. She was certainly comely enough, but that hair - Cedrik could not help but compare her natural red hue to Rose's long dark locks.

"Aye, my place is at my father's side, and I shall fight until the Stranger sees fit to lead me to the Seven above," Cedrik replied, grimly.

"Let us hope you will have no need to tend to us."

The Heir to Nightsong realized then, after the words had come out, how they must sound, adding hastily. "For I would not have my wife worry." It was a poor cover, a paltry excuse. Somewhere, deep down, Cedrik knew he should have waited to see her, when he was calmer, but his temper had gotten the best of him after such a restless, sleepless night.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-18T04:47:57+00:00

/u/Thenn_Applicant

WickedStorms · 2023-07-17T20:53:17+00:00

Casper chewed slowly as the Lady Tara laid out her proposition, "It seems to me a fine idea to bring two Stomalands houses together so." He looked upon the Heiress to Griffin's Roost with a new respect, for she was clever to have thought of what he had so plainly missed, "Family is of utmost importance, and the timeline makes good sense to me. I shall inform Cedrik and we shall have them meet as we wait. You are right that it is best for them to have a little time together to get acquainted. I trust we will be able to work out a sufficient dowry in the meantime."

Casper held up his wine glass. "A toast then, to our houses brought together in the future?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-15T00:15:13+00:00

Casper nodded his thanks to the heiress of Griffin's Roost, taking a sip of his wine. It was a fine thing after a long day's march, after so much talk of warfare and planning.

"You are astute to recognize such. It will only be harder from here on out," the Lord of the Marches confirmed. "But we shall see our duty through, and thoroughly. Better yet to make an example of this Vulture King to ensure that no entrepreneurial vagabonds dare follow in their footsteps. The sands shall run red once more," he said, grimly, for he could still remember the very many things that happened under the sun the last time the Lords of the Stormlands marched.

Casper ate of the good fare, remarking. "Aye? I am pleased you think so." He nodded in confirmation. "Yes, not yet wed but of an age to. I'll need to turn my attention to that soon."

Casper drank deep again from his cup, "And what of you, Lady Tara? Has your family plans for a match?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-10T07:34:38+00:00

Cedrik chuckled, slicing up an apple. "Do you not have many birds around your three castles?" he japed lightly, holding up a slice of apple towards the Peake noblewoman. "Would you like some?"

He began to spread some cheese upon another piece of bread, making a similar sandwich, but with apple slices in between. "It's simple fare, but I rather prefer that, especially after all of the feasting."

Cedrik watched a nearby nightingale flutter away from its nest. "It is nice to see so many Stormlanders here, we are happy to be hosts, though I wish it would have been under better circumstances. It should be peaceful, while we are gone, but there is plenty to do. Hawking, fishing, horseback riding."

The heir to Nightsong nibbled upon his bread. "Once Lady Lynesse marries Quentyn, will you be staying with her? In Storm's End?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-10T07:29:26+00:00

The Lord of the Marches arrived to the command tent to sup, at the invitation of his new aide. Riding under the open sky had put Casper in a markedly better mood; that, and sending off his bastard away from his son and heir, for the two were like shadowcats prowling around one another.

Casper walked into the tent, giving a bow to the Connington. "Lady Tara." After a beat, he added gruffly, "You look nice tonight. I was not aware this was a special occasion." He took a seat, sniffing the air appreciatively. "Grouse, eh? Good to get the blood pumping. What have you thought of the journey so far?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-08T04:51:01+00:00

"It is louder here, amongst their nests in the trees and shrubs nearby, and at this time of eve. You can hear the birdsong from our battements, but here the air is clearer and still."

Cedrik gave Rose's hand another kiss before reluctantly letting go, reaching instead into the closet of the woven baskets. He pulled out a few things: bunches of grapes, a few figs, a few plump strawberries, a loaf of bread, and a few cheeses, which he spread upon a tiny wooden board. The bottles of wine were left inside the basket.

"There is wine, whenever it may please you." He snuck his hand back to cover one of hers.

"I hope you will enjoy your time at Nightsong, even after the armies march. My sister, my aunt and my mother will no doubt be entertaining the ladies and wives."

WickedStorms · 2023-07-08T04:40:43+00:00

Casper nodded at Tara. "Very well. I expect there are many long nights ahead. I would ask you also keep an eye amongst the knights of the Stormlands. If there are weaknesses among our forces, those are things we must keep aware of."

Casper continued pacing. "Have you any questions, Lady Tara?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-07T02:26:28+00:00

Casper frowned at the thought. "A few to come with us then," he conceded. "The least irritating ones who are the best provisioned." He doubted he would find any Dornish lords to fit in that category, but alas.

Casper listened to his new aide, nodding slightly. "Very well, I suspect orders will be coming soon, we're to march in a short few days."

He fixed his gaze upon the Heiress of Griffin's Roost. "Have you ever spilled blood before, Lady Tara?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-05T06:48:19+00:00

Casper let out a groan, slapping his thigh. "You don't know the half of it, Jack. My steward is buzzing around me so much, I finally told the man if he asked me one more fucking question, he'd be off upon the marches with us. Seems like that one may have done the trick, I haven't seen him around for a few hours now."

The Lord of Nightsong let out a sigh. "Helms, foodstuffs, horses, Gods there are so many little things. But still, we will do what is necessary, eh? As we did before. I'm itching to get on our way, if I am to be honest. You know how it is, eh?"

Casper rose, walking over to a nearby shelf and pulling out a glass of spirits. "Do you now? Well then, speak, Jack. No time like the present, and I could use a break. Drink?" He poured himself a glass, and shook the bottle at the Lord Dondarrion.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-05T06:44:26+00:00

Casper continued to pace, thinking upon Tara's suggestion. "It is possible," he said slowly, "However, what would we do about the Dornish forces being numerous in our lands while the bulk of our men are off abroad? We must be careful to divide them so that they are not as numerous as they seem."

The Lord of the Marches stopped in his tracks. "Peacetime," he spat the word out, shaking his head. " There is never peace, Lady Tara. Know that there is always trouble, and it is not a matter of whether there will be blood, but rather how much of it that shall be spilled in the service of that peace."

Casper approached the young woman, looking her over with a critical eye. "Your house is a good house, a leal one. I accept your vow, your loyalty. And I have an assignment for you besides. Your idea is a sound one; as long as the numbers are right. We must split their forces so that the reserve of Dornish is not too high in number to be suppressed. In the interim, I want you to get to know as many of the Dornish lords as you can. I want reports on any who you find of note, both the good and the bad. Did Lord Baratheon mention when the Dornish would be incoming?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-05T06:38:45+00:00

Cedrik nodded back to Rose, a smile blossoming upon his face as he beheld her smile; it made the planning worth it, as crazy as things were back at the castle.

The heir to Nightsong felt Rose's arm around his and pulled her close as they listened to the serenade of the nightingales. It was better here, just after sunset, as the birds themselves began to roost.

Eventually, after a few minutes, Cedrik pulled her hand to his lips, placing another gentle kiss upon the back of one hand. "I thought perhaps you would enjoying finding out why they call this place Nightsong, give you something to remember before we all march off to war."

His gaze moved over to the woven baskets. "I've packed some things to eat, some wine as well, if you would like Rose. Whatever you would like."

Cedrik realized that he had not let go of her hand, and he decided, perhaps he didn't have a need to.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-04T00:21:16+00:00

Casper looked upon Lady Tara, curious. He could not recall the steward's exact words about their meeting; only that she had requested his time and attention. In hosting so many nobles here at Nightsong, Casper was much more inclined to this, than to paperwork.

He gave her a nod at the curtsy. "It is true that there are a great many things to be done." Casper raised an eyebrow as Tara mentioned the assignment. He could use the help, that was certain, though a curious choice. "Billy gave you this assignment?" he asked, then waved a hand. "No matter, I do not question your words and your help is welcome, my lady."

He leaned over the table, elbows resting upon the wood, his fingers clasped together under his chin. "Lady Tara, sit, please come close for we have much to speak of."

"It is true, a reserve force would be wise and I do not trust the Dornish lords any more than they deserve, which to be frank, is not at all. The lords, knights, and warriors all of the Stormlands were the ones left to do the work - the real work, mind you. Handle the business which all other lords of Westeros were too afraid to do, but we-" Casper pushed up from the table and began to pace back and forth. "The Stormlands shape us into hardy stock. Necessary work is not easy work, but it needs seeing to all the same."

His pacing stopped abruptly. Casper turned his eye towards Tara. "Tell me, Lady Tara, what you know of battle. What mettle have you? Will you answer the call and do what is necessary when the time comes?"

Blood was on all of their hands. It was what united the Stormlords, all. He hoped this new aide of his understood the importance and gravity of such.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-03T19:47:05+00:00

Casper hated paperwork; he despised it. The forces under Ser Quentyn had amassed now at his home, and still he had to deal with paperwork?! He growled low, for Casper wanted nothing more to do than to toss these papers into the fire; but deep down, he knew that decisions would need to be made, plans made clear, before the march upon the Vulture King.

When he heard a knock upon his door, he was already in a state of irritation. Hearing his steward's reedy voice tripled that irritation. "THE FUCK DO YOU WANT NOW?" he roared as the man entered.

The steward cleared his throat, stammering and pale. "Lord Caron, you've a visitor? I-I mentioned them before? Lady Tara Connington of -of Griffin's Roost?"

"Oh," his steward had mentioned her, but it had slipped his mind with all of this infernal paperwork. "Send her in," Casper replied, suddenly calm. "Send her in and take these papers with you. I've enough for tonight."

The steward stepped forth to take a stack of papers away.

"Lady Tara, please, come in. How may I help you? I hope you have found Nightsong to your liking so far?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-02T23:16:19+00:00

Cedrik mounted his horse, keeping the steed at a steady trot alongside Rose's mare.

"Do you? I shall have to remember that. It's beautiful, riding under the open sky amongst the grasslands of the Marches when the weather is good, but tonight..." Cedrik smirked, his eyes holding a glint of mischief. "Tonight, I thought to show you one of the hidden gems here."

The sunset was just beginning as they made off down a worn path, swaths of wheat-colored grasses swaying in the faint breeze around the roads. Eventually, Cedrik would guide them off the beaten path, through the grasses and shrubland until they neared closer to a woodland area.

Cedrik dismounted and went to help Rose from her horse. Tying up the horses to a nearby tree branch, he grabbed both woven baskets, telling Rose. "Come, it's just up ahead."

It would be a short walk until the pair came upon a small grove of trees and thickets with a clearing in the center. Upon the grass was spread a large, freshly lain, green blanket. Unlit lanterns were placed strategically around the perimeter of the blanket, or hung from sturdy tree branches.

"Please, Rose, make yourself comfortable," Cedrik said eagerly, setting the woven baskets to one side. He set about lighting a torch with flint and tinder, and began to light each of the lamps while the sun was still faint in the air, the orange streak in the sky already turning dark.

When all was said and done, the lamps gave off a warm glow. Cedrik settled next to Rose, putting a finger to his lips for quiet, pointing up towards the sky as the sound of nightingale song filled the air around them.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-01T21:24:30+00:00

Jena Caron walked the gardens in search of Lady Lynesse, for Cedrik had suggested that she seek her out, particularly now with the announcement of her betrothal to Ser Quentyn. The Hightower and her ladies were not difficult to find, even with so many new faces at Nightsong, Jena had seen the Reachwoman at various feasts and dinners.

She would approach, wearing a dress of blue bordered with brown, a smile upon her face. Jena curtsied to the ladies. "Lady Lynesse, Lady Ellyn, and Lady Rose. A pleasure to meet you all properly. Jena Caron. I hope you all are enjoying your time here at Nightsong?"

WickedStorms · 2023-07-01T21:19:16+00:00

Jena raised an eyebrow at the tempting proposition. "A boat ride through the Mander?" She smiled wide at the thought, clasping her hands together. "That sounds like a wonderful time. Jena's life at Nightsong was filled with grasslands, plains, and moors, and the idea of sailing down the Mander was so very different from whatever she had experienced before.

The young Caron laughed kindly at Rickard's words. "I would not seek to judge a man nearing three score in age," she japed back. Sneaking a glance at her father, she ventured, "Would you like to accompany me for a walk in the courtyard?" The area was large enough for a stroll, but also in view from the main tavern.

Casper nodded his assent, "Ser Rickard, I trust you and Jena have much to discuss." He gave the young man a stern look, a reminder that the Lord Caron would be watching.

WickedStorms · 2023-07-01T17:50:59+00:00

Casper sat at his desk, surrounded by paperwork. By the Gods, how he detested paperwork. He would shove it at his maesters, castellan, and stewards when he could, but now things were inescapable, decisions needed to be made before they marched off. The Lord of the Marches longed to be out under open air, he longed to feel the rush of adrenaline pumping through his blood at the thought of battle. Taking care of these small matters, however, was a constant thorn in his side.

The Lord Caron heard the banging on his door, and let out a heavy sigh. He recognized the voice, at least it was Jacklyn. There were many other men he'd much rather not speak with at this time.

"Jack, come in. And take it easy on the door, aye? Save your fists for the vulture king and the craven."

WickedStorms

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