Summary: Niniane asked Castor to take some letters north for his father.
Date: 03/07/2013
Related: None
Niniane Castor 

Laketown is a series of dichotomies laid out in the open. Grand cobbled stone boulevards feed into winding and cramped dusty alleyways and muddy side roads. The shimmering gleaming halls of polished stone that the merchants, guildmasters, local gentry, and nobles have built hide the dilapidated and grimy hovels and dirt and mud that seems to pervasively linger in a town always under construction. Even at night, the beating heart of the Laketown market square is filled with spectacles and merchants and the constant flow of money, although not always between buyers and sellers. All roads lead to the gold and marble pillars and bright cobalt tile roofing of the Blue Duck Inn, the unofficial hub of the business in Laketown set just across the way from the large, glittering temple.

The town tapers towards the Deep Woods and Wolveshire to the south, the fertile Open Field to the west, Brivey Keep to the Northwest, and the expansive Docks to the east. Laketown never sleeps, the constant clang of blacksmiths, shouting merchants, and the thunder of heavy carts constantly moving about town.

Jul 03, 1329

"…If you are going to approach my hound quaking like a homely maid on the eve of her Becoming, then you deserve to be bitten…"

Castor, wearing a mud-flecked white tabard, tunic and cloak of a Chosen Acolyte, stands not far from the Temple at the stables. He is speaking to a young stable-hand, who appears to be more frightened than injured. The sun has not yet begun its lonely trek behind the western horizon, but it is not far from it. The city of Laketown is abuzz with the closing up of shops, parents ushering children home, masters lecturing apprentices, and folk flocking to the tavern for a hot meal and a mug of ale.

Castor, on the other hand (bandaged up and nursing his left arm in a sling) is stuck in the stables, a massive shaggy-grey furred boghound at his side, and a frightened stableboy in front of him. The young 'Wolf' of Westmark shakes his head, and lifts his good hand to his face, to massage his brow just between his eyes.

"Stilltha's Scaly Hide… look, just go for now. Feed Orion — do not walk behind him, and watch out for his teeth if you walk in front, and — you'll… be fine."

The stableboy leaves, somewhat ashen-faced at the thought of dealing with Castor's restive-tempered stallion, and Castor leads his hound away from the stables and toward the street. Wincing.

Though the festivities continued late into the night the northern princess looks fresh and refreshed today, a bright smile on her face as she wanders about Laketown once again with an entourage of southern guards. The not quite a captive, but definitely under watch, Niniane seems to be smiling but the look on her face speaks of a touch of boredom as the woman's apple green eyes scan the people walking throughout the town. Thankfully the paint did indeed come off her face and she is dressed in a more reserved gown today.

The princess catches sight of her former foster brother and the young woman's face lights up, shedding the boredom, "Castor!" She greets rather loudly and lacking her normal decorum.

The lad's eyebrows shoot upward, his eyes widen and he turns around. He grins.

"Nin! — Oh, for the love of Guardians! Your Highness," he adds a moment later, his right hand covering his eyes as he attempts a bow… only to smirk at the princess from between his fingers. "Just… keeping up appearances," he remarks glibly — giving a meaningful glance at the princess's guard detail.

Cerberus, gleefully recognising his master's foster-sister, bounds instantly away from Castor's side to rush toward the princess — barely skidding to a halt in time before accidentally charging into the guards.

"Cerberus!" Castor snaps. "Heel!"

Blushing at her own lack of manners Niniane however is forced to giggle at Castor's, "Oh don't you your highness me Castor." She grins and seeing the hound bends down, her dress unfortunately does trail in the mud as she does. Not seeming to mind the destruction of the expensive fabric Nini hides another giggle behind her hand as the guards seem to back away from the big creature, "You two are looking well, well I have seen you better Castor. I never did ask, what happened?"

"He is… normally much more behaved than this…" Castor remarks mildly of the boghound, then he grins at the guards. "Oh, don't worry — he had a goat for supper. At best, he will just li — "

True to his master's word, Cerberus trots alongside Niniane, extending his shaggy head to try and lick the princess's hand. Castor smirks at the hound, then attempts a light shrug at Niniane.

"I'm an acolyte now — I'm supposed to… try this new thing called 'behaving'. Apparently, 'tis quite popular on some of the islands over the sea." He resists the urge to wince, and finally stops stalling by glancing at his left arm.

"Bandit attack," he replies laconically. "We suffered some injuries… but you should see the other fellows. They're all dead now. I'm fine — the bandages are just for show."

He tries a chuckle — but winces.

So much for 'just for show'.

"What brings you here?" he asks through a pain-clouded expression.

Niniane catches her bottom lip between her teeth, giving Castor a worried expression and a slight frown, "Honestly Um Priest Castor, wait is that what I call you?" She offers the injured man her arm however after standing up and joining him with the dog still trailing on her other side, "We should sit down, I honestly was not expecting you here, are you staying in Laketown now? They have me stationed in Wolveshire now instead of the Citadel, apparently my father will be less likely to burn it down with me inside. Or I assume that is the train of thought." The 'ambassador' says frankly as she does with 'family' and smiles despite the words, "Are you going north any time soon? Are you allowed?" Another small blush, "What am I thinking? You are injured and lying about how bad it is, and here I am asking you to travel."

Cerberus barks — always looking for more attention — and Castor offers his foster-sister a rueful half-smirk. "Is it that obvious?" he asks dryly. "I am fine," he reiterates after taking a breath. "Pain is… just pain. I heal swiftly."

Glancing about, he motions toward some benches outside the Temple, and motions for the princess to join him. "I am an Acolyte, not a priest — and you can call me anything you like, Nin. I am training here to be a Chosen — but with Rhaedan mustering for war, and bandit attacks on our home soil… Mother Superior has given me permission to assist… aaaat least I will have that permission with she decides I am sufficiently well enough again."

He shrugs as he sits down, motioning for the hound to join him at his side. Cerberus complies — whining as he does so. "I took only two arrows — there were others who suffered much more. What draws you north? The war? Or other matters of court?"

Sitting down on the bench beside Castor now, Niniane sweeps the gown out underneath her as she tests out, "Acolyte Castor…" A little look of displeasure, "I do not know Castor, Acolyte sounds different." She shrugs though then and nods her head to his words, "I am glad she is letting you assist at least. And no I am still my father's ambassador to the south, at least until he says differently. But I have letters for my brother and for your father." Her eyes flicker once towards her guards who all seem to be keeping a distance from the large hound, despite his friendliness with the blonde.

Castor nods as if receiving the answer he was expecting. "Of course — and… I am still getting used to being called 'Acolyte'. This was not a path I had… expected…" His voice trails off, and he strokes the goatee on his chin in thought, tapping his foot on the ground rhythmically.

"I will be seeing them again soon," he says softly. "With events moving forward as they are, Prince Jerric wants our whole family close at hand. I can deliver the letters if you like."

Niniane's smile grows as she nods her head to Castor, "I do not think it was a path many were expecting from you Castor." She looks about and then says quietly to the northerner, "The letters to your father are a tad more important then normal, so when you do see him. Tell him thank you from me." The tall woman leans back from Castor then and flutter her eyes as if she might have been flirting with him, of course exactly as the rumors might say of the northerner princesses.

Castor lifts an eyebrow at the princess, then smirks his most roguish smirk at her — gleaming eyes and all. A pair Covenant Acolytes walk by on their way inside the Temple of the Four, and give Castor a curious — and slightly reproachful — glance.

"Youth will have its fling…" one of them remarks piously to the other as they vanish inside.

Castor, still smiling, asks without moving his lips: "If you have the letters on you, slip them inside my arm-sling. I will see them safely delivered." His smile broadens into a grin, and he adds: "I have missed these games — I knew you couldn't resist me. And here I was all set upon a spiritual life from here, onward…"

His voice drops, and his lips stop moving.

"Look after yourself in the South, Nin. The world's gone to Kharnas…"

<FS3> Niniane rolls Thievery: Failure.
<FS3> Niniane rolls Reaction: Success.

A small smirk touches the princesses lips at the comment from the older acolytes and Niniane bites her lip again as she leans forward towards Castor, "Careful would be nice." She speaks though her lips do not move either as she gently touches a slender hand to his arm.

Though the letters seem to slip from her fingers a moment and she leans closer, rather inappropriately now but a guard just snickers and another can be heard saying, "Runs in the family didn't ya know." The men's voices are low but they cause a look of annoyance to cross Niniane's face before she just seems to roll with it, kissing Castor's cheek lightly before the letters are tucked snuggly in his sling, "I am so glad you are so close. I am endlessly in need of spiritual guidance of course Acolyte." Another flutter of her lashes and the princess leans away with a small feigned maidenly blush.

A bell chimes from within the Temple, and Castor's grin turns into an annoyed frown. "That is the call for supper," he admits with some reluctance — all genuine reluctance too, given his true relationship with this foster-sister of his, despite the rumours.

He completely ignores the letters slipped into his arm-sling, and instead offers Niniane a roguish smile — somewhat thin for a smile, due to his being summoned away — as he rises to his feet. Cerberus trots around to his master's left side and stands there protectively once more.

"I have to attend to some responsibilities for now — I know, I can scarcely believe the words even as I speak them! — but I should like to see you again if at all possible, before you have to journey further South."

His grin may be flippant, but his eyes are serious. The letters will be delivered.

"Go with Altheara's blessing, my Princess," he says with a shallow bow — and a wince. Bowing hurts. "Think of your Wolf fondly, hmm?"

<FS3> Niniane rolls Deception: Great Success.

Standing up herself as Castor does Niniane puts on the act of an interrupted flirtatious girl rather well. Her eyes flutter and on the princess' cheeks a hint of pink starts to grow, "Oh yes duties my Wolf." She says the nickname in a slightly lowered tone, "Do visit me at Wolveshire? Though I will be in Laketown for the tournament I think." Grinning to Castor she inclines her head to the newly chosen and gives him a appreciative and slightly apologetic smile, hidden by her flaxen hair from the guards, "A pleasure my wolf, and enjoy your supper."

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