In Defense of a Prince

In Defense of a Prince
Summary: Following the Lohstren duel, Morla pays a visit to Xander and Prada in the infirmary only to further discover another of Dalyros' misdeeds.
Date: 28 June 2013
Related: None
Morla Xander Prada 

South - Infirmary
The infirmary is a large open room with beds lining the walls. Between the beds rest small tables that range from being empty as the bed next to it to being covered with bandages, basins and countless jars of salves, and perhaps the stray memento or three for the patient it is near. Several of the beds have privacy screens that are set up around them, and other screens can be seen rest towards the back of the room with the many row of cupboards that most likely hold countless bandages and herbs, salves and teas for the healers and apothecaries that work there.

With serving not only those of the castle but open to all in Wolveshire, there is near always some soul being looked after or tended to within the infirmary. There is but a single door that leads to and from the room, though it is wide enough for several to pass through at once, especially for those who may be carrying injured upon stretchers.

Fri June 28, 1329

As Morla approaches the infirmary, she will clearly hear Prada dressing down Xander for being dumb enough to take on a Blue Guard, but at least having the common sense not to demand Dalyros' cloak. The two go back and forth, even on the idea of defending her honor. And finally, there's silence.

Having just finished getting treated for his injuries, Xander is grabbing his pack when he notices the missive sticking out of it and his cheeks darken. "Aww chasms." he mutters, as he takes out the letter and waves it at Prada. "I was just with Lady Morla this morning and I was supposed to give this to her!" he says, as the two of them just seemed to have done arguing, though they are barely a foot from each other, far too close to be proper, but close enough to have been arguing or something else.

The gentle rustle of skirts and panels of fabric resound from just outside the hall as the ghostly slip of Lohstren womanhood gracefully makes her way into the infirmary, "By all that is holy, Xan, you are so incredibly loud." The words are spoken lightly with a faint curl of her lips - Morla's clear depths drifting to take note of Prada as she greets the other woman with a bow of her head, "Milady, I trust you have not endured too much bellowing from my beloved cousin… though it would seem he is still amongst the living. Guardians be blessed."

She takes a moment to let her attentions drift curiously back towards her battered cousin before inquiring simply, "The day is not yet over so any forgotten deeds are all too easily forgiven. No doubt it is another bill of sale for one of Collette's trinkets and baubles," she gently stretches out a hand in patient wait of the forgotten delivery.

A gentle whisper and flitter of rippled silks follow Prada's motion as she turns to the newcomer, aqua irises absorbing the Lady with an ease of confidence. A simple smile adorns her fair mien, a wordless greeting as she pauses for a moment before speaking "My Lady…" Thus, does her melodic timbre drift forth on the coy air, a deep breath forsaking full lips in speech.

"I assure you I bellow as oft and loudly as he does. Stubborn ox that he is." The Varghem maiden laughs softly at the mention of trinkets and tugs uncomfortably at her own attire, "Would be I could see this and spend my day in trousers and hats. Far more productive toward riding."

"You missed where she started it, Morla." Xander says with a smirk, pinching Prada's side subtly, hopefully where Morla doesn't see it as he hands over the missive. "It's from Her Majesty, so I'm not sure, Mor." he comments with a frown, as he reaches up to touch the sealed up wound on his side. "He didn't get that many licks on me. So much for me just me being a 'tournament follower'." the knight comments with a smirk.

And with that preamble, he hands over the missive from Regina over to Morla.

Carefully accepting the letter, pale eyes drift over once more towards the pair, assessing them with momentary silence. The March Flower might not get out all that often these days, but she is far from blind, "Hmm hmm…" her lips curl with a hint of amusement over the pair. It is the Varghem maiden's reply which inspires a soft laugh, "No one has ever quite likened Xan to an ox before, though I do suppose it has a better ring than jackass. Would you not agree?" There is a lightness in her tone reserved fondly for family as she lets Xander's defense inspire a shake of her head, "Xan, my dearest cousin, you above all men should know that it is entirely moot as to who incited such things. I do not doubt there is a degree of mutual contribution to the banter lest Daly gave you one too many blows to the head. Still, this /is/ an infirmary and we must mind the gusto and timber with which we convey our messages out of respect for the ill and infirmed."

Evan as she speaks, Morla's hands grace over the parchment within her grasp before opening it to peruse the contents. It takes scarcely longer than a moment or to for the lightness once held within the woman to visibly ebb away in lieu of a stiffening of her posture and tightening of her jaw. Were it not for her already unequivocal paleness, her skin might just blanch a shade lighter. Eyes skim over the rim of the letter to settle upon Xander, "Did Her Majesty say anything else upon presenting this to you? What of her demeanor?"

A mane of ebon is ignited as a glistened cloak around her willowy form, a brow perched high on an ivory forehead, as a smile creeps over rose lips. "It is good that there are those who agree with me on the subject. Though I highly doubt I would want him to be any other way." Prada intones, her words drifting off as she observes the Lady's demeanor toward the letter given.

She presses her arm back toward the offending pinch at her side and glances upward to the much taller man curiously. Slowly her attention returns to Morla and she breathes deeply, "I do not know what is in the letter myself. I only her know her behavior of late is as to be expected. She fully prepares for war continually."

"She was angry, but not towards me, m'lady." Xander says, his hand instinctively taking Prada's in his own, a hint of an affection in his grasp as he watches the Flower of the March's demeanor change from a happy sunflower to a dangerous flytrap. Still beautiful, but deadly. "I may be stubborn, but I do carry out my duties." he points out quietly, but stops with the teasing as he looks towards Morla. "Bad news, Mor?"

"Bad news would be a welcome reprieve at the moment, I fear," her words echo faintly as she appears as little more than a whisp in the presence of the darker Varghem and her own larger cousin. Still Morla finally lowers the letter before passing it back towards Xander, "What you are to see does not leave this room, but it is a matter you have every right to be aware of considering recent circumstances."

Pale eyes drift back towards Prada with a faint nod of her head, "As loathe as I am for the onset of war, I cannot deny all tides appear to be heading in that direction. Her Highness has suffered a loss no woman should ever need bear and though no amount of spilled blood can change what has happened - there is a chance it can possibly bring us peace." Pausing for a moment, she considers thoughtfully, "My only true concern is that the onset of war could inevitably be exactly the desire of Darrin and Kerilyn. After all, what better way to claim all of Eikeren for oneself than to let the kingdoms of the North and South spill blood only to sweep in and defeat the victor once their armies and reserves have been depleted. There are books full of such tales."

As Xander's eyes skim over the information, confusion is his first thought. "..wait, wait, did I give you one of Prada's letters on accident?" the teases in his voice is evident, though it's tinged with something.. not nice. "..are you kidding me?" he asks, as he looks to Morla. "This is a joke right? He's really using the 'I did it for the Prince? He's really saying that he put his prick in the Princess and had enough experience to know she was no virgin and his defense is 'I was defending my Prince?' Oh, by the chasms!" he hoots with laughter. "Get us a House Banner, Prada, I want you to top me for the honor of Varghem!" he says, breaking into more laughs, the letter held loosely to his side where Prada can grab it.

Prada barely glances over the letter and decide 'I told you so' smirk comes to her face. "Just as expected of the Harlot of the North. She traveled from my brother to Prince Samwell in less than an hour to be sure. What I cannot for the life of me understand is how anyone can blame Darrin in this mess. Is it not clear enough?" Taking the letter and folding it back up she hands it once again to Morla with a shake of her head, "It is my understanding of the battle Darrin was felled twice and only recovered by the means of Kerilyn. In fact it said those who protected her did not interfer when it was Darrin being harmed. Only when harm was attempted to her."

As her own mind whirls with thoughts the lady begins to pace quietly suddenly stopping near Xander, "Think of it if you will. While one is off offering Darrin to the darkness which protects her another is here in our own midst attempting to seduce the last Son. How could the King have not noticed his missing daughter? No I do not believe nor accept Darrin is at fault. This has long been in the Kings plan, to take the South at whatever cost."

"Xan, please do watch your words. I cannot see how you can find anything to laugh about in this letter," the pale Flower chides softly, "Do you not realize just how precarious of a situation this might be? I am less surprised by the contents of the letter and more so at the audacity of Daly to send it to Her Highness. Whatever good he might have intended, the boy simply seems to lack any measure of logical thought in matters of social regard."

The defense of the elder prince seems to elicit a faint lift of her brow as Morla regards her thoughtfully, "For all Prince Darrin's faults, I do believe he's been enthralled by Kerilyn. Beasts of the Chasm have many faces and she is but one of them. Be that as it may, there is scarcely anything to be done until that hold is broken. She took his desire for power and used it to ensnare him against his own sister." Her expression softens visibly as she continues, "If there is any way to bring redemption to Prince Darrin, I will help you, Milady. Princess Ayla would want it so. However we do need to accept the notion that every day spent within her company takes him further away from the man he once was. There may come a time when he is irredeemable."

Clearing his throat, Xander coughs. "Of course, m'lady.. humor is but a defense mechanism.." the Knight offers as he shakes his head. "My apologies." he says as he reaches up to brush a hand through his hair and looks between the two women. He offers no opinion on Darrin, remaining silent on the subject.

Turning from one to the next, Prada inclines her head to Morla in respect,"Would be that I could I would fly to him this moment. In time perhaps I will find a way to him." As the lady begins to step away she turns toward Xander and smiles, "You know where the rooms are. We have orders for an early morning count. Do not be late." as she speaks a brow arches in tease and quietly she exits the room.

"Of course, Prada. Sleep tight. I'll see you in a bit." Xander smiles back towards Prada, offering a bow of his head to the woman as she leaves, unable to hide a smile of fondness. It's tough to watch her leave, but the view can't be beat.

Bidding a faint nod of farewell towards the darker woman upon her departure, the fair Flower again returns her focus back towards her cousin. She says nothing more for the moment, eyes saying it all as she drinks in the faint tease and lilts exchanged between the pair with interest. Reaching to reclaim her letter, she carefully folds it once more, sealing the contents, before offering in a softer tone, "Xan, please do not even think about dallying with His Grace's sister unless your intentions are pure and sound. We cannot afford to have both the throne and House Vaghrem incensed by our knights."

She started it is so not an excuse at this point. Looking to Morla, the knight offers a smile. "Prada and I have known each other for months.. possibly years, since the Queen assigned me to guard her on her missions. I have no ill intentions towards her, despite the rumors to the contrary.. and.. there would be no other besides her anyway." he shrugs his shoulders. "I appreciate her company as she does mine."

Eyeing him a few minutes more, her gaze unwavering with that pale crystal blue, she finally nods, "An alliance with House Vagrehm would be a welcome relief in light of recent other interests." Morla pauses again, her gaze shifting to trail down the path of Prada's departure before adding in a lighter manner, "She seems a great deal more sincere than most… and any woman capable of bantering with you in equal measure is worthy of consideration," before once again letting her gaze land upon her cousin, "I like her."

"And unlike my sister and her brother, we're not cowering behind something else to not express our emotions. But don't be so quick to march us to the priest yet." Xander winks towards Morla. "We're both young yet and have plenty of time to consider courtship. Unlike Collette, I am in no rush to claim a spouse."

"You shall not find me rushing anyone before a priest, Xan. Unlike some, I believe it is more prudent to first assess and ensure the match will be a solid one before leaping headfirst into such things," Morla's lips curl into a softening smile, "I can like a great many individuals, yet it does not quite mean I wish to tether their hands to our own house upon such feelings. Admittedly, I do like far less people these days - but the times have grown darker and too many fenwolves are waiting in the wings. For now, I am content if you are equally so and staying out of trouble. Tis a simple thing, I know, but there is something blessed about simple joys."

She pauses for a moment before adding as an afterthought, "However, the moment you start behaving like Daly and I do promise to tether you within the stables back home. As it is I am not entirely certain how to keep such news of my impetuous brother from Father. I have already made arrangements to speak with the royal house regarding the earlier duel - all of this…" she shakes the letter idly, "… is but another thing to add to the ever growing pyre of his misdeeds. Why oh why could he not have been born with a girl I shall never know."

"The Guardians give us what we can handle, m'lady." Xander says with a chuckle. "And I do not envy your place." Stretching out, he stiffles a yawn. "I should consider retiring for the evening." he admits, and then pauses. "If he asks if I want my cousin's cloak, under no circumstance is that answer yes. I believe that Dalyros was too young to take on that responsibility and he allowed it to corrupt him." he comments softly and honestly. "He let being a Blue Guard get to his head and it made him drunk with the lust of it. So no. I do not wish that. My life is pretty.. normal as is, and becoming anything else would mess that up." And with that, he offers a bow. "By your leave, Mor?"

"Duly noted. I promise upon my honor I shall do what I can to ensure the burden of that blue cloak does not fall upon your shoulders," Morla vows softly, "I agree Daly is too young for the responsibilites placed upon him, but in time he could learn to wear it well. He just needs a bit of guidance and firm hand to help him stay the course." She pauses, getting a little distracted with thoughts of her brother before finally offering with a gentle dip of her head, "By all means, Xan, you do have need of rest. Thank you for all you have done, even if it did lead you to here. I shall handle whatever comes from this. Be off then and be certain to rest. I have feeling we will all need more of it than available in the days to come."

"Of course we do, m'lady. The tournament is Lakeside's a couple of weeks away, and I plan on bring home some new hardware." Xander casts a wink over his shoulder as he heads past Morla, a light touch offered to her shoulder in support before he heads off towards the more familiar area of the rooms.

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