Mawige is what bwings us togevah....

Mawige is what bwings us togevah….
Summary: Jerric brings tidings from his father to Guinevere, talk of marriage ensues.
Date: 23/August/2013
Related: Moving Mountains
Players:
Jerric Guinevere Victricia 

Start: Brivey Keep-Lower Bailey End: Brivery Keep-Study
Meant mainly for family meetings of the most important topics, this room is spacious enough to hold a dozen people comfortably. To the right upon entering sits an oak desk, polished to a high gleam with a scarlet-cloth armchair behind it. Atop the desk is an orderly array of parchment, scrolls, and writing implements. Two more matching armchairs are set in front of the desk to allow for a more private conversation. To the left of the door is a cushioned bench for more relaxed conversation with a table before it and two armchairs beyond that. A fire brings warmth to the room, while several candle sconces and lanterns bring light. Shelves line the wall on either side of mantel. Books, scrolls, and ledgers take up space on there, while others bear small trinkets of personal value to the owner.

The only visible way out of the study is through the door and back into the hallway.

Fri Aug 23, 1329

The day is warm and thus in his battle scared brigandine, Jerric is squared off with one of his Royal Guards, the eldest, nearly as old to be his father. With a deep laugh, his latest attack once more thwarted by the Guard who looks a Jerric with a smirk, Jerric shakes his head "One day, Kylin, I shall get to you." Old Kylin shakes his head "Not if you keep attacking like that, Your Highness, now, again." And it is then that the Guard, the one that has been with Jerric for as long as he can remember, takes the High Guard as does the Prince "Try it again." Jerric wipes the sweat from his forehead on the ragged surcoat before he attacks once more, and again the clash of steel rings out and the onlookers, of which there are now many, grins. Once more Jerric has failed to hit.

The Reidel maiden watches a few passes with her handmaiden at her back and stifles a chuckle as the seasoned, elder knight japes with his prince. "He's right, you know?" Guinevere says after the latest swing, she pulls her long, plaited hair over her shoulder. "Too much power and not enough… dancing." Finally the woman chuckles. "Go on now, let us see you dance, Your Highness," the last is said with a deep curtsy and a broad, teasing smile.

At the voice of Guinevere Kylin turns and bows respectfully, "Lady Guinevere," he greets. Jerric lowers his sword and sighs "I don't dance," he says then gives a wink. "Perhaps that will be all for now, Kylin, we have been at it for hours." To which Kylin smirks. Jerric makes his way to where Guin is standing, his hair soaked with sweat and thus sticking tightly to his head, even a drop of it is wiped off his nose. "Guin," he says smiling as he nears "They told me you went to town, to the market."

The woman pulls a kerchief from her sleeve and holds it out to Jerric as she nods respectfully to Kylin. "Why, my prince, you are a sopping mess," Guinevere grins as he nears and nods, "aye, I have. I wanted to see how trade is faring in Brivey. The numbers have dropped, again." Guinevere turns her eyes to the ring on her finger, twirling it around. "The bandits, the threat of war, it is taking its toll, my prince." She sighs and looks back up with her violet eyes. "I'm begging to worry, and a priestess came to town today, waiting on her Chosen. She does not bring glad tidings of the roads."

Jerric eyes the kerchief as if it where a snake then takes is and wipes his face, "I am guessing you do not want this back till after it is washed," he says smiling. "And I have been giving lessons to Kylin here on proper sword fighting." To which there comes a gruff grunt from said Guard. But as Guin continues on Jerric's lips press together "Bandits, this is not good. As for the war, if those blasted Tanifords," to which he stops saying anything further. "Well we can't do anything about /them/ but we can do something about bandits."

"Keep it," she laughs, "it is of no used to me that way." She slides a look to the guard and grins. "Training him, hmm?" Guinevere winks to the guard, "Well, whatever you say, dear prince." Her mirth is stifled at the talk of bandits. "Aye. There are many, but truly, nothing can be done with them until… until the quarrels with the South have ended," she flicks her gaze back to Jerric. "What will you do, after all, chase them south for them to run back north when the time is right? I hate to even say it, but the only way to rid ourselves of the majority of them is to work with the south." She worries her lip though doesn't turn her gaze away from Jerric. "Chide me all you please, but that is the truth of it."

Jerric runs his fingers through his hair, leaving it more of a mess then it was "Guin," he begins "do we have to do this again? All /they/ have to do is stop the feuding. I mean, they started it all in the first place." And age old argument, chicken and egg, Taniford and Rhaedan. "But we will double the patrols on the roads if need be. There can't be that much of a problem." Then he grins "Did you buy anything?" clearly changing the subject.

"Jerric," she whispers, "it is not so much that. Perhaps it isn't about a truce, but more, letting the southern houses on the borders that you are eradicating bandits and that they should be wary of bandits crossing the boarders. Then, no one is giving up anything, nor are they making any sort of amends. Perhaps they would take care of the bandits for us. If it doesn't work, then all we have to worry about is them coming back."

Guinevere sighs heavily. "But the trade. It will suffer and we cannot afford that, neither can the people. There is pain in their eyes, Jerric. Take a chance to look." She stops and shakes her head, compliant to change the subject. "No. I did not. There was nothing that I needed, nor anything that caught my eye." She cheers up a smile for him, crooked, and half-hearted.

Jerric knows to well that look, that half smile and sighs "Ok, I will look at the people, as I always do anyway. But for you, I will." He seems to ponder things a moment "And all you are saying is to let them know what we will be doing, nothing more?" He asks, his head tilted a bit to the side, "I could do that." He finishes after a pause. "My bet most of the bandits are from the south anyway, they should have to deal with them. We all know they are nearly out of control down there." Yep, everything is the fault of the Southerners.

"Thank you," she says quietly, bringing up a soft, sincere smile. "That is all I am suggesting. Perhaps, if they do the same to warn us as well, should they choose to do the same. Just a courtesy nothing more." Guinevere wrinkles her nose. "Must it always be their fault?" she chuckles lightly.

"Bandits will do as they want. This is known, my prince, they hold no laws nor lands. We can skip blaming the south for our bandit woes." She brings a finger up and tweaks his nose. "Even if they're out of control 'down there," Guinevere says the last with a masculine tone to poke fun. "There is not much I would put past that Summer Queen, but bandits are far from her sort of intelligence."

Jerric brightens as it seems Guin's mood has shifted. "They won't, and yes, it always is their fault," he says with a grin "Everyone knows that." He then chuckles. He swats playfully at her hand as she tweaks his nose "I am saying that these bandit problems are more than likely Southerners acting like bandits to cause us grief. But now that I think about it, it's not a bad idea. I should tell Katarina about this idea."

He shakes his head "Oh, there is very little I would put past that fake of a Queen. She is evil, no doubt about it. She is always insulting me for no reason too." He takes a step back and looks her over from head to toe "I like the dress by the way. What say you and I go to the Study and get something to drink? I could use something really."

A huff from the Reidel maiden. "Of course you would see it as a war stratagem," in a very unladylike fashion, Guinevere rolls her eyes. "And of course you would drag Lady Katarina into it. You two are suited for each other, shall I leave you two to your own mummery?" Guinevere chuckles heartily, a singsongy thing that seems to light up her features. Taking the kerchief from his hand she reaches up and wipes away an errant bead of sweat. "She is not intelligent, Jerric. For only a fool would make a mockery of you so. A fool, and perhaps myself." She puts a finger to her lip. "The Study, do you know where that is? If you do, then yes, to the study we shall go." She raises a brow and gestures the way.

"But of course, if they are causing us this much trouble, why not do the same to them?" He grins as she rolls her eyes "You know," he says as he leans forward and nearly whispers "that is very unlady like." Straightening back up he seems to ponder "huh, Lady Katarina and I are suited for one another. I had not thought of that. Perhaps," he says no more and gives her a wink "I am sure you would not mind sharing me?"

He stands still as she wipes the sweat and then once it is gone he nods "Oh, she is a fool alright, and you could give her lessons." And he puts on a mock anger look. Now it is his turn to roll his eyes "No, I have no idea where it is at, you should have to show me, besides I like the way you walk." His sword is returned to it's scabbard and he sweeps a hand out for her to lead the way and a devilish grin "Lead the way, My Lady Fair."

She rolls her eyes again for good measure."No. Go ahead, I wouldn't care at all. For I am in a mind to share my future husband with another woman." The tone is sarcastic, thick with it even. Guinavere looks back to Jerric with a raise of a brow. "So I am a fool now? I see how this game is played. Tut tut, my prince, I am valuable asset. I am qute sure you would not like me telling her how best to best you." She snickers and shakes her head. "I thought not!" She says with an amused grin and mocks a sigh. "Very well, I have been told that my walk /is/ quite dangerous. Be careful you do not trip, Your Highness. Your neck is a precious commodity." She walks on ahead of him turning to give him a wink. "What ever am I to do with you?"

There is little for Jerric to say or do, but laugh. And he does so deeply. "I shall be very careful, Guin." And thus they are off to the study.

Entering the study, Jerric tosses his sword belt and sword onto one of the tables before he plops down in an oversized and over stuff chair. He takes a deep breath "Your walk is dangerous, but nice to watch, Guin." He says as a servant comes in "I shall have ale and My Lady will have?" He looks to said lady and smiles "Guin?" He asks as he uses one toe of a boot to try to force the other one off.

"Mulled wine," she says to the servant with a smile. "It is as dangerous as it is meant to be, Jerric." She says informally, taking a seat next to the prince. "Besides, what use would I be if I wasn't dangerous in one way or another." She looses a sigh as well as she shifts comfortably in her chair, removing her slippers and pulling her legs up into the chair. Guinevere settles her head on her hand, and looks at Jerric. "Honestly. Whatever will I do with you. You are simply incorrigible." Cocking a half-idled grin she leans back in the chair.

As the servant departs Jerric finally gets a boot off and begins working on the other "Well I know how dangerous you can be, in more ways than one, my love. But, still, when you walk by folks do turn and look." He grins and there, the other is off. He stretches out and crosses one leg over the other while smiling at Guin "Oh, I can think of a few things you can do. A good number of things actually," he teases. It is then that he glances at her wrist, with her head propped up on the hand "What's this, not wearing the bracelet?"

"Ha. Are you jealous? Would you like me to don priestess robes and cover up as much as possible?" Guinevere giggles, a blush flushing her cheeks, a bright crimson hue. "I bet you could. I would much rather fight you at this juncture." She laughs, but brings it up short as he questions about the bracelet. "Oh. No. When I go to market, I tend to leave my finery behind. I do not wish to seem too lavish, even if it is a gaudy thing, atrocious really. Does it really bother you when I don't wear it?" She lays her head on the arm of the chair, braid falling from her shoulders, dangling over the side of the chair. She looks up, awkwardly to Jerric as she questions him.

Jealous, me jealous," he smirks then grins "Perhaps a bit, but I do know that I am marrying the most beautiful woman in both Kingdoms." And then that grin of his "Not to mention the most ornery, stubborn and, and," words fail and so he grins. When she speaks of the bracelet he puts on a mock sad face, that is till she mentions it is gaudy and atrocious. "What, you don't just love that bracelet I bought, I, I, I am hurt Guin."

Her cheeks had not the time to clear their reddish hue, she smiles softly up at him, repositioning herself for comfort. "I am all of those things, and more, yes. But you flatter me too much, I swear it, ornery, such a redeeming quality, and stubborn, what every husband should ask for. But I will be marrying a brute, a hard-headed brute, who's head is sometimes elsewhere but heart is in the right place." Guinevere smiles, chuckling at his words on the bracelet. "What? You cannot say it isn't, it is the most gaudy piece of jewelry ever made. I do love it though," she says as she flops an arm over the side of the chair. "How are things at the boarder?" Guinevere asks calmly.

Jerric leans down and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead "Every husband wants an ornery and stubborn wife? I have never heard that. Hmm, I must ask Kylin about this, he is married. I bet his wife isn't ornery and stubborn and, and, other things." Again that mock hurt look of his "Hard headed? Me? I am not hard headed. Just because I am just about all the time right. That is not being hard headed." Damnit, she loves it, must try harder next time "Well if you love it so much, I shall have to go find a nice necklace to go with it."

She smiles as he kisses her forehead. "You will find that they are. Behind every good man, you know the saying. We must be hard to stand the woes, I just happened to be harder than the rest," she giggles lightly at that. "Yes. You are hardheaded, you are stubborn like me, it is why we get on so well." Guinevere glances up and smiles. "You will be away a lot, I know this, that does not make you hardheaded, but you are immovable in your resolve. Is that a better description?" She laughs heartily at his last. "Oh, you lavish me with such wondrous gifts. What will all the ladies at court say? Should I add them to the royal jewels?" She raises a brow, now, however. "Jerric…" she sniffs, "you are avoiding my questions. How fares the boarders?"

"I had not realized this, about wives. I may have to rethink this whole thing." He sits back, thinking it would appear "Maybe I will join the Priests then, become a Chosen or an Acolyte. Then I would not have to be married." He can't keep the facade up for long and laughs. He pats her head when she speaks of the gifts "I know, it is just to keep you happy, that's all." Only when she brings up the borders again he shrugs "They are as they are. I still have my hidden army at the old ruins, I do not know what they are doing what with the Queen's crackdown I had to pull my men back

The maiden chuckles lightly. "Of course you would, Jerric. Do not be afraid of marriage, why, I will still be just as stubborn and just as wild. And you.. just as hardheaded. I wouldn't want you any other way." Gunievere curves the corner of her mouth up in a half-grin, though slowly it spreads. "I need no gifts to be happy, Jerric. Silly man, why is it that you think I wanted that ghastly trinket? Because it was of no monetary import, nothing for all to see and scoff at. I will take you as my gift, thank you, and please do not refuse me," she smiles demurely though frowns at the word of the river. "That is not good, Jerric. Nothing good could come of it, nothing good at all. Do you have spies there, at the very least?" There is a look of worry on her face, raw and genuine.

Jerric is grinning "well, if you shall be my gift, I will wish for a trial period. Yes, a Royal decree, a trial period." He laughs "But I shall accept your gifts, my dear. As long as it doesn't involve mud and me being pushed into it, again." Then with a shrug "I am trying to get them back down there, they had to pull back when she cracked down. But for now I am blind what is going on in the south."

"I am saddened by the notion, dear heart. Would you wish to toss me back like some fish? Perhaps the rest would be on trial as well. For I swear, by now, you have chosen to keep me. Why toy with me in such a way otherwise?" Guinevere laughs though talk of the south calms her jesting to a mere chuckle. "Send a small team, five at most, a ruse of being merchants and have them watch for your interests. I do not like this, Jerric, it seems like her type of madness to attack in such a way." She reaches over and takes his hand, toying with each of his fingers almost in idle thought.

Jerric cuts his eyes to Guin and winks. "No, I think I shall keep you." Just then the drinks arrive and they are placed before Jerric and Guin and the servant departs. Jerric reaches out and takes his ale and a sip of it. "As for the South," he says after a swallow, "We will get them back, our agents. But for now," he sits back and seems lost in thought for a time "Father was talking to me, he feels that perhaps soon we should have the marriage ceremony. But I wanted to talk to you first. What say you?"

A small, almost girlish giggles comes from the lady as she reaches up for her cup of mulled wine, nodding in appreciation to the servant who hands it to her. "I think I'll keep you too, you and all your farces." She nods as she takes a sip of the hot liquid, careful not to burn her lips. "Very good, Jerric. I could not sleep well knowing that we are somewhat blind." Guinevere's violet gaze flicks from the cup in her hand to Jerric as he speaks of his father. "He does? Hmm… Your father is ever the wise man, I would not deign to refuse him at any juncture. Not that I would," she grins, "and not that I can blame him. A marriage would bring the realm great joy." Guinevere nods setting her mug down. "Nothing would make me happier. What of you? How does my fierce warrior feel about a wedding?" She lifts a brow in his direction, a smile teasing the corners of her lips.

"How do I feel? It needs to be done, though I would rather just skip off with you to some out of the way temple and get married. But that can't happen can it?" Jerric asks though he knows the answer. It will have to be a large wedding, a Royal wedding. There will be a week of Tournaments and then the actual marriage. "I guess the real question would be the when part. "

The smile that threatened comes out as he speaks to his want of a small wedding. "I need not say it, you know that cannot happen. It will need to be a large affair. I would want nothing more to just run off with you, but your father's courtiers would be less pleased if we do." She takes a hand and pushes a lock of his hair back that threatens to drop into his face. "As to the when, well, that is whenever you choose it. I have been patient this long, a bit longer will not kill me." Guinevere smiles and removes her hand to take up her mug and take a drink.

Jerric takes another drink before he turns to Guin and smiles at her words. "Well, it will be large indeed. But for the when, it is just not my say. Father was thinking the sooner the better. I think he thinks you will settle me down or something," he says with a grin "which we both know won't happen. I think after getting your brother married he is in the marrying mood or something."

A riotous laugh comes from the Riedel maiden. "The marrying mood, you say? Well, I should think that he must have taken great joy in matching my brother with that Auldholme girl. I am still not quite sure if I should feel sorry for him, she seems such a strong willed creature."

Guinevere laughs lightly and nods. "If he wishes it to be in a week, then it shall be so, if he wishes it to be in a month, then so be it. I will get all the seamstresses to work on my dress so it will be ready for his whims." She winks and lifts the mug to her lips again grinning over the rim. "Settle you down? Oh. Your father should know better than that!" Guinevere takes a sip and sets the mug down. "I could no sooner settle you down then stop the wild wind from blowing.

Jerric chukles "I think he was talking in a month or so. But it needs to be well planed I think." He then laughs a bit harder "Sometimes I think you could do that, you know. Stop the winds." He turns to Guin, serious now "And you, Guin, what about you?"

She nods in agreement. "A month, well, he seems to be ever generous with the amount of time. My poor brother did not get so long." Guinevere grins at his words. "Stop the winds, eh? Perhaps I am blessed with a gift from the Guardians. Though, if the winds do not mind what I say, I might forbid them from blowing!" She giggles though stops it short at his question. "What about me?"

His look has not changed, even as she speaks bout the winds. "About you, do you really want to marry me?" Jerric asks as he sits in one chair, his boots laying before him, legs stretched out and a mug of ale in his hand. Next to him in another chair is Guin, she has wine and off to the corner is the servant girl. "Do you really want to? I mean it has always been so but, do you?"

She turns her head in Jerric's direction. "What sort of question is that, Jerric? Of course I do," she smiles softly, "there was a time I didn't. But I was not but a small child then, I didn't know anything of life, and wanted no sorts of responsibilities, as kids often do." She reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder but her hand finds its way to the arm of the chair instead. "Now, there is no place I would rather be. You have to know that, right? And you, what of you?" Guinevere shifts in her chair uncomfortably, sliding her feet back to the floor and sitting straight backed in the chair.

"What is that smell? Twice now it's been on this hall and absolutely every time I find myself coming this way, it seems to grow worse. I swear, Nina, I'm going to be sick if that gods be damned awful thing isn't removed immediently. We just have to find it!" The Lady Victricia, wife to Sammel Riedel, goodsister to Guinevere, the future lady of the keep was prowling the hall and frowning, as usual. "If I have to set ever servant in the keep to the task, I -will-," warned; while she drew in another deep breath, just before her face went pale. It just so happened to be the same time she noticed voices coming from within the study, which according to her nose also seemed to be the focus of that awful scent. Poor Vi hasn't realized that its flowers and that they don't actually smell terrible at all.

"Ah! Jer—my Prince," a dip of her head bobbed in courtsey; "Lady Guinevere. Have either of you been assulted, today?"

Jerric sips his ale and smiles "Of course I do want to marry you," he tells her right before the interruption. He turns and looks to the open doorway and chuckles "Already she is the Mistress of the keep," he half whispers to Guin before looking back "Lady Victricia! What is this about a smell and you wishing to rid the keep of it?" Then he blinks "Assaulted? Why no, why do you ask that?"

Noises from the hall draw little of Guinevere's attentions, her gaze remains firmly locked on Jerric's features. "By the Guardians, Jerric…" She trails off as Victricia comes into the room, snapping her attentions in the woman's direction. "My lady?" she dips her head in the middle of the question, "assaulted, no? Why ever for?" Her brow is turned up as she looks over her good sister, a queer look on her face that begs an answer.

"Can't you smell it? It's positively assulting!" Yes, instead of insulting. There's a baffled look that paints itself across the tall blond's features, a delicate wrinkle in her nose. "It's coming from in here, I don't know how the pair of you can bare it." For the most part, Nina, whom is still keeping Vi company looks on towards the pair with apology writ on her face, but what can she do? "It's terrible. Nina, girl, go and open a window, would you." Before the lady sullies herself by losing the contents of her stomach in a waste bin.

Then it dawns on Jerric as he wiggles his sock clad toes "Oh, Vi, it is not that bad!" He sniffs the air a bit "I can't even smell anything." He looks to Guin "Can you?"

Guinevere looks to Jerric, just as confused as when the lady walked into the room. "Smell? I smell nothing but the sweet rushes on the floor. Lavender, I believe." She looks to Nina then back at Victricia with a most incredulous look. "Are you well, good-sister?" Guinevere turns to Jerric's feet and looses a laugh. "No. I do not, not your feet, anyhow. Ah. A marriage that is meant to be, I do not even smell your smelly feet anymore!"

"If I thought that it were your feet, my most gracious prince, I would have you hauled out to a horse troft and dunked, bodily so that all the women in the kitchen," and everyone knows how plump they are, "Can participate in giving you a good scrub. I daresay we could use the entertainment." There's a good natured mischief in her eyes, as the young woman drifts through the room to stand by the window. "Lavender!" At Guin's prompting her eyes narrow off in speculation. "I bet that's the culprit, there's a rather understated jasmine that's being used in the…Nina, go find out." Poor Nina. That woman really does get run to death. "But enough about that," a flippant wave; by the window she's free of the scent. An inquiring look cast in Jerric's direction, a gleam of dark amusement and, "So tis your wedding that you're discussing? Have you set a date then? Should I begin counting the days before you sweep her away, off to run a keep of her own?"

As the women speak of lavender and scents and hints of this or that, Jerric just drinks his ale. Now if it were about swords or lances or what not, anyway when vi asks about the date he looks to Guin and then back to Vi "Actually I think your wedding to Sammel has gotten father in the mood. He sent a missive to me and Duke Neale wondering if it were not time." He shrugs a bit "I was just asking that of Guin, when would be best. I was thinking a month from now. Of course father wants it grand, a Tourney and everything."

"Aww. Good-sister, do you dislike me that much?" There is humor in Guinevere's tone, her eyes tracing the path of Nina as she goes on her fruitless mission of finding out what rushes are strewn about the floor. "Or is that you don't like how I've run things?" She chuckles lightly at the woman by the window. "You have some time yet, Lady Victricia, there is no date set officially," she nods to Jerric's words, "what if I had it my way it would've been a much smaller affair. But royal weddings bring much joy to court and common folk alike. We could not deprive them of such things."

Her mind went first to the stress it'd put on Brivey, having already carried the weight of one grand wedding, but it was followed with the knowledge that the King would not be so foolish as to sink his most productive vassal. "Dislike, not at all. The way your mother has run things however," well, Vi leaves it at that without expanding. "I find it amusing that all women desire is something small. I'd asked Sammel for the same and found myself much denied. Regardless, it's good to hear that things are finally progressing."

It is just then that one of the younger guards of Jerric's comes to the door "Your highness," he greets Jerric first and then bows his head "Lady Guinevere, Lady Victricia," then he looks to Jerric "I have word, you are wanted by the King's messenger, Your Highness. He says he won't give the letter from the King but to you only." Jerric sighs and nods "I shall be right down then." He smiles to Guin and then to Vi "If you two will excuse me, you can talk about what the weeds are they put down on the floor with out me, I am sure." He teases and begins to pull on his boots to leave.

Guinevere rises and smiles at Victricia. "Well, my mother can be incorrigible at times, this is true. The only difference? I will be rid of her long before you," there is a good-hearted chuckle that greets the newly made Riedel lady. "Never you worry, though, I share your feelings on that matter. Love her as much as I do, she does wear on you." She looks back at Jerric and smiles. "So am I." Then the guard comes to the door and Guinevere nods. "Aye. When the King demands, my prince, you shall go." She smiles at Victricia. "I am afraid, my lady, the flowers will have to wait. I have a meet with a priestess of the Temple, or rather, I have to find her. Crafty one, that." She curtsies to all in the room. "Good day, my prince, Lady Victricia." With that, and a turn of her skirts, she is off. Going around the guard and out the door.

"Perhaps," Vi agrees with Guin offering a dip of her head and a serene smile. "Good luck on your search for the priestess as well, dear girl." Bidding her departure with a little wave, the same was accorded to Jerric for all that there was a playful glare aimed in his direction.

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