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fanesavin · 6 years ago

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The festivities ahead of the Coronation begin with Lords and Ladies settling in for the night ahead of an exciting and much anticipated day.

[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ]

Curiously, Iann remained where he was as the crowed departed, watching the man who tried to attack Lady Faye of Lacroy. He wanted to speak to either Lady Faye or Inquisitor Savin, but then suddenly there was his little brother as well, being a bother. Iann made a snorting noise. “The honey makes the mead, you silly thing.” He looked a little closer at Miguel. “You looked…piqued. Did you enjoy that display of magic? Or - whatever it was?” Iann said, unwilling to just brand everything he didn’t understand as 'magic’.

“I would love a walk,” the priestess said to Bella. “Would you like to come along, Maya?” she asked her companion. “Unless you have pressing matters to attend to for your Lord?” It was her way of giving the other woman an out. “I’m a priestess /for/ the Lord of Light. I do His bidding. Go where he commands.”

Fane watched the man be dragged away and exhaled short and sharp. He turned to survey those lingering behind dragging his fingers back through his hair. Seeing Iann and Miguel he trailed over to them. “That was no magic.”

“I will also be going, specifically for that very reason. May I accompany you on your way?” She asked. “I am Octavia.” She said introducing herself to Lady Lacroy.

Iann looked at Fane. “Are you alright?” Another question followed. “Will she be alright?” And then a statement. “You no doubt heard what happened to our own sister-by-marriage earlier today, Inquisitor.”

Ephram interjected, from where he was standing near the princes of the island kingdom. “And a not inconsiderable number of barrels of mead are from Honeywild Holding.” He was still, like many of them, watching the aftermath of what had happened with the … witch, he supposed? … but it seemed like as good an in as any to strike up some conversation with the noble seafaring Princes and Lord Savin. Ephram turned his focus to the little knot of gathering nobles; it seemed luck was on his side, when it came to ingratiating himself to them as swiftly as possible.

“If you wish,” Faye said, wiping her hands carefully on the cloth. “Faye. Faye Lacroy. A pleasure, Octavia.”

Iann scoffed. “Honeywild Holding. Any place that needs to claim its purpose is doomed to mediocrity….ah.” He turned to regard the tall blond man, a haughty once-over. “That makes sense, now that I see who makes such a claim. Lord…Pittypat? I forget your name.” And most other people would too in a few years, Iann thought silently. This poor lost Lordling.

Fane waved off the question for his own well-being good-naturedly. “If that display was anything to judge by… Yes, I think she’ll be just fine,” he said looking in the direction Faye had vanished equal parts amused, concerned and unsure quite what to make of what he’d just seen. Though what Iann said next drew his attention back aside to him “I did… and I’ve asked that some of my men do some investigating… Subtly of course. How does she fair now?” he asked of Cassandra.

“Likewise, Faye.” She said walking beside the woman. “I heard the mad spit the word witch at you.” Octavia pulled her long hair out of her face and tucked some behind her ear. “I had wished that with this 'peace’ the High Raj is restoring to the lands we would have a more open thinking society.” She said shaking her head. Finding someone that was also a witch was a rare occurrence. Octavia did not practice her magic, but it was certainly manifesting itself these days- and growing stronger each one that had passed.

“Pettaline. I’ve still got the name of my ancestors, Your Highness, and unfortunately the legacy of their unembellished naming customs when it comes to our lands.” Ephram smiled as if the jibe had been some sort of friendly joke between them. Over the years and the dwindling of House Pettaline down to nothing, he’d gotten very, very good at not letting humiliation show. “Are you talking of the kidnapping attempt that happened earlier? Between that and this bizarre attack and accusation of witchery, it seems the Capital’s not as prepared for so many people flooding into it as they thought they’d be.”

“She’s comfortable, with her precious daughter,” Iann replied, and seemed satisfied that Savin had taken it upon himself to look into that matter as well. He was not the 'Inquisitor’ for nothing, after all. A title that Iann understood (as his own House once underwent a thorough Inquisition, over three hundred years ago) and respected. Or, well, he specifically respected Fane Savin to be thorough. “Tell me what you find…” he saw the mix of emotions flit across Savin’s face, and then looked amused as well. “It seems some magic was afoot. Both yourself and my little brother have been successfully caught under some enchantment of The Witch of the Wilds.”

Fane nodded a little upon hearing that she was safe with her daughter. “I’ll see it handled… but the timing seems far too convenient,” he admitted honestly though as Pettaline added his opinion to the matter about preparations Fane could only make a small noise of agreement. “That’s true enough, you would think the Cloverry and Crown would have forseen some incidents… Yet I see little being done about it by the Royal guard.” As for Iann’s comment about the Witch of the Wild’s enchantment Fane merely shrugged a shoulder, “she’s an interesting one. A little stern and prickly perhaps but… interesting.”

Iann On the point the little (tall) Lordling made, Iann had to agree. He tapped at his beard. “Well, I suppose we shouldn’t all expect perfection just yet.” it was a blithe comment. Iann didn’t expect perfection at all. “Still, my heart is beating quick from all the excitement. No better time to compare mead and proclaim the Forty Isles caskets more worthy, eh?” He smiled, and clapped Pettaline on the back, hard. He looked around. “Now where’s my lovely White Lady gone? I’d like to enjoy myself in the confines of the Bluesprings Keep. Who will join me? Savin, I’ve yet to see you tipsy, never mind ten sheets to the wind.” He said it with a slow and careful smile though, so Inquisitor Savin didn’t see it as mockery, but a friendly invitation.

Bella walked alongside Faye as they made there way to the event. Lord of Light, no wonder Bella had felt her presence in the crowd of others. The darkness that was evident all over her person was a heavy contrast but Bella didn’t quite see it as anything that should make them enemies. Enemies came with a purpose beyond just a connection to something. “When did you feel the call to your Lord?” Bella asked, looking about the event as they walked into it. Food and drinks all over the place, her wolf salivating as it waited for her to fetch him some food. If he just rushed the table there would be screams.

Silent as the owl that Iann likened him to, the Prelate materialized in step with Faye and Octavia as they walked. “Lady Lacroy,” he said, and acknowledged the young woman accompanying her with a nod as well, “I’m deeply perturbed by what you just endured. Please be assured that I will be assigning some members of the Emerald Hand to watch for any such further attacks on your person.” Theodore didn’t offer a definition of the Emerald Hand with this announcement; either the woman knew of the shadowy agents of the Cloverry, or she didn’t.

“It’s hardly the worse thing I’ve been called.” But Faye agreed with Octavia. Peace would only hold if the old mindsets died with the war.

Fane looked at the crowds moving towards the main keep his features set into a slight frown. “We should discuss it more but later as you say… perhaps a few drinks.” With what had happened first to Grand Lady Cassandra and then Lady Lacroy Fane found himself a little perturbed and distraction typically made not a welcome companion for revelry. But a few drinks wouldn’t hurt he supposed. “Tell me you brought the Amber casket with you at least? I might be persuaded to have a few more if you have it.”

Ephram threw his shoulders back, straightening at Fane’s note concerning the lack of timely response by the Royal guard. “Maybe the Raj’s soldiers have orders to be on the lookout for threats to the throne,” he said, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Which, I’d reckon, would leave those of us capable of spotting other skirmishes and trouble-making the responsibility of keeping the peace. D'you think, Lord Savin? Highness Cardero?”

“I wouldn’t think that witch should be used as a slur.” Octavia shrugged. “When I think of witch, I think of power. Passion. Strength.” She said looking over to Faye.

Miguel kept mostly quiet, but he nodded to the man who proclaimed himself a Pettaline. Was this another noble being taken for granted like Lady Lacroy? And was he worth being friendly with? There was a lot of mental math going on in Miguel’s head. But he didn’t want to appear too friendly with anyone in front of Iann. “Hearts beating fast indeed. I wouldn’t mind a little friendly competition.”

The excitement, as it was called, only served to show the priestess that this place needed more guidance. Violence beget violence, after all. But she followed as the others moved towards the festivities that had been announced. The strange woman with the violet eyes drew her attention briefly, but she soon turned back to Bellamy. “I can’t recall ever not being in His service,” Scarlett answered. “It’s been my life.”

Fane hooked his thumbs into the loop of his scabbard. “Perhaps the Raj’s guards, but what about the City Watch?” Fane asked the other Lordling casting a look towards a few of those soldiers in question that dotted the streets, he couldn’t say he was overly familiar of the man or his holdings but he made a sound point. “Aye, perhaps but is it our peace to keep? We were invited here to witness the crowning of a King not to control his subjects.”

Maya excused herself briefly to purchase her spices. She haggled a bit less than usual, but still got a better price than most. Spices tucked safely away she returned to the party. Once there she picked up a pitcher of wine and began her rounds offering more to the guests.

And now the vultures descend on their quarry, Faye thought to herself. Faye knew the Cloverry. She knew of the Emerald Hand. And while never having any particular interaction or grief with them, she was always suspicious of anyone that said they only wanted what was best for the people. “Prelate,” she greeted, remembering what the entitled’s robes looked like. “It’s nothing that can be helped, I’m afraid. Please don’t use your resources for my sake, though it’s appreciated.”

Danian had chosen to take the long route to the Capital. They could have ridden to the nearest port and sailed down, but they rather enjoyed the road, to be honest. There was far more to see - and they could have the peace of traveling alone. As soon as they reached the city gates, they had dismounted from their steed to walk him up through the lower city. They weren’t bothered by the people there. They weren’t in their formal wear. They even chatted briefly with a 'commoner’ or two. It wasn’t their first time in the Southern city, but it never hurt to stop and ask a few directions. When they finally reached the courtyard, their horse had been secured in a stable and they were wandering freely throughout the streets, hand on the pommel of the sword at their hip - a habit they had never been able to shake. But something- or rather someone stopped them in their tracks. They stood and blinked. Once. Twice. Squinted their eyes. Then, with a swift step, they weaved through the crowd over to him, a small grin forming on their lips. “Tuah?” They certainly hoped they hadn’t mistaken the man, but they were quite sure. “-Or is Your Majesty, now? I’ve heard some very interesting stories coming over from the Peninsula.”

Iann was amused to have the little (tall) Lordling trailing behind himself and the Inquisitor. He didn’t find it absurd or annoying, but rather the norm. The higher one rose in ranks, the more the minor nobility clung close. Plus, the added bonus was that Pettaline fell into step with Miguel, thus setting the ranking quite smoothly as they made their way towards the Keep. “I will definitely like to speak of it more, when mouths are also more willing to speak,” he agreed with Fane. Iann could hold his liquor, and he suspected most of the nobility here would make the same claim. Still, Iann decided he was better at it, simply because he had to be. He noticed Lord Tuah hovering near one of the steps and gave him a courteous nod. “The Amber casket was brought and branded with your name on it, Inquisitor,” Iann crowed. And he gave Pettaline a passing nod. “I do however, love these spontaneous demonstrations of power.” Iann did not love it at all, as he continued. “It reminds the commonfolk why they are ruled by the likes of us. A very wise observation indeed, Lord Pettaline.” It wasn’t wise at all, but Iann was like a cat who enjoyed playing with his food.

“Thank you. Even if you’re one of a minority,” Faye smiled sadly. “Though I have no real magic. Not anymore.”

“Oh?” Octavia questioned, she tilted her head at the womans comment. “Could’ve fooled me.” She said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Faye smiled. “I"m clever, that’s all. What men see as magic is simply… using my resources wisely.”

The Red Priestess fell into the slowly moving crowd, taking in the new faces, the symbols of status and the way in which everyone was gathered together. So many names. So much bloodshed between families. Yes, the Lord had been right to send her here. To deliver the sword to the One.

Fane nodded upon hearing that there was wine for him but said little more, instead opting to walk beside Iann as they ended the Great Hall that was filling with people. A band nearby struck up a jaunty tune, light-hearted and enough to start getting a few people already in their cups to try their hand at dancing.

“Clever you are, you didn’t need anyone's help back there. You were fine without aid from the gentleman or myself.” She said complimenting the woman's tenacity.

Miguel held in a sigh. Iann was talking out of his rear, and he didn’t believe anything that was said anymore. In his mind it was all posturing. Might as well posture with them - he rolled up his sleeves and crossed his arms as they walked. “Lord Pettaline, what kind of flowers do you have in the Honeywild Holding?” He asked with a friendly smile.

Faye smiled again, though it was a little less bright. “When you’ve been on your own as long as I have, you learn to adapt. Or you die.” Not that it truly mattered. Her House was already dead. Faye was just too stubborn to let go. They moved on into the revelry, and Faye looked around for someplace to get a drink.

“I’d think that involving oneself in the safety of the people of the Bluesprings doesn’t count as control, or wanton shows of power,” Ephram ventured after a moment’s consideration after Fane and Iann had their say. “But then, I’ve only got a handful of families to be responsible for, nothing so grand as the Blackspire or the Forty Islands. Probably you lords have a much better estimation of the politics here than I do.” Acknowledgement of his lower rank made, Ephram turned his attention to the Threepenny Prince walking quietly beside him. “All politics is like having older siblings you keep reminding you that you don’t know as much as they do, huh?” He was bolstered by that pretty smile the Prince turned on him, though, and said, “We don’t cultivate flowers in the Holding, Your Highness. It’s all wildflowers growing where they like – mostly those yellow sailbushes, and a pale blue version of queen’s roses, and everywhere there’s these frenzies of tiny little white laceblossoms, the most blinding white you ever saw, when they’re all a-blooming.”

Bella could not relate, the darkness had come to her when she felt herself surrounded and unsafe, something that sought her out when she needed it too. “Perhaps our guidance comes to us differently,” she mused heading towards a table of food, pulling off some chicken for her wolf and holding it in her hand. “Does your lord let you drink?” She asked, wine and various other drinks covering the table along with the food.

Maya approached one of the women who seemed to be looking for something. “A drink m'am?” she asked holding out her tray.

“Perhaps,” the priestess nodded. “And my lord has no interest in what I do for myself, only for him. I’m allowed to do as I please, as long as I go when he calls.”

Prelate Theodore smoothly rejoindered Faye’s automatic protest, saying, “It’s already in motion, Lady Lacroy. Believe me, the deployment of the Hand is as much for the sake of the Cloverry and the Raj as it is for your safety.” He collected a goblet of one of the wines that was less palatable to most people, a resinous green vintage from an ancient vineyard to the West. “Do you foresee any other concerns arising during your visit?”

“Unfortunately true, M'Lady.” Octavia motioned to a woman who had glasses of mead and wine upon a tray. “Thank you, Miss.” She said nodding to the woman.

Tuah turned when his name was called out, his brow raised and head cocked slightly to the sight. It was obvious that he dreaded any interaction that was to be had with any noble families, seeing that he had nothing much in common with most of them. Or at least he assumed it so. His eyes scanned the newcomer, taking in the sword by their hip that seemed more practical than decorative. He tried to place the face to someone of his past. Someone from the Dawnguard perhaps? He could feel the tenseness from his confidante, raising his hand to ask him to stand down. “Danian?” he guessed, before it clicked and a wide smile as he closed the distance between them and gave Dani a hug. “By the Lord, look how you’ve grown. Well, only by a little,” Tuah couldn’t help but teased, crows feet appearing at the corners of his eyes as he smiled fondly at the other. “And it’s Tuah. There is no need for such things between us, hm.”

Miguel nodded in agreement. “Truly, that’s why I tire so easily of politics.” His broad shoulders pulled up in a small shrug. “I would rather talk about flowers,” he said, not entirely honest, but not an outright lie. “That sounds wonderful. You know, I’ve never had any honey from the Honeywilds, though now I understand the name better,” he exclaimed with a chuckle. “Honeywilds… we cultivate our honey a little more, with certain plants, like lavender - so we know which hives have specific tastes or smells….”

Faye turned to the young girl as she came close. “Please,” Faye nodded, and took a large goblet of wine. “Thank you.” Turning to the Prelate, Faye hummed around a long sip of her drink. “Ahh, so the asking was merely a formality, was it?” She was hardly naive enough to think that she was of the same importance as the Raj and the Cloverry itself. “None caused by myself, I can assure you.” She nodded at Octavia, glancing again at the girl with the tray. She seemed… strangely familiar. But no. Faye couldn’t know her.

Prelate Theodore took a measured draught of his wine, savouring the piney stripe it laid down his throat as he swallowed. “Did I give the impression I was asking? How peculiar of me.”

“Duty never sleeps. Didn’t your cousin say that once, Inquisitor? Or perhaps your wife. Someone beautiful enough that I was distracted both by her words and her face,” Iann said with a smile that was more clever than happy. He turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder for a moment. “I see your Lovel ward is here, and our old friend the Oathbreaker.” He motioned for a servant, requesting the Amber mead from the Cipprian Island casket to be opened for himself and Savin.

“No. But you did give the impression you wished to know my opinion in matters regarding my personal safety.” Faye tipped an eyebrow at the Prelate. “But it’s no matter. Safety is always of prime concern at times like this. The Raj should count himself lucky to have someone so… willing to take things in hand.”

Maya listened as the nobles spoke, absorbing information. Knowing more was always useful. She brought wine and mead around too. When Lord Cardero asked for the Cipprian Mead to be opened, she nodded with a, “Right away sir,” before going to open the cask. It would be better to disappear from the room for am moment and from the thoughts of those nobles and religious folks who seemed to eye her curiously.

Lord Savin’s ruminations over the technicalities of military duties and the Driftwood Prince’s prods at his dignity started to fade into less importance as Ephram’s attention was won over by this lesser prince of the isles. “Are you all that particular?” he asked, slowing his long stride slightly so they fell a little more behind the others. “About tastes and cultivation, I mean.” Ephram drifted entirely to a stop, giving Miguel a sidelong smile. “It’s not so bad to let things go a little wild, sometimes.”

Fane hummed, “aye to a point perhaps but I just wonder is it our duty to see a city’s laws are upheld when there are men whose jobs it is to do that?” He was mostly just postulating really, it was all said and done now and little could change the fact of what had happened. Though the mention of his late wife by Iann caused Fane to dip his head, “my late wife did, but she knew my inclination to duty better than most I suppose, that said something always catches your eye when you happen by our Halls.” A joke, in part at least, considering how many broods of iann’s bastards there were about his city now. “It appears so… I might head and see them.”

As the Lady Bella excused herself, the priestess found her own goblet of rich wine, so dark it was nearly black. Glancing around the room, she made her way around the periphery, pausing to watch a dancing couple.

“I’ll join you, if you don’t mind,” Iann said, happy to abandon his brother in light of speaking to the Lovel boy, and finding out anything about his dear son Buttercup.

Octavia thought about her father war chieftain and clan leader- and of how she had been framed for his murder. Once she fled their kingdom they were overrun with the High Raj, every last one of her family killed. Octavia shook her head as if to shake the thoughts out of her head and looked back to Faye. “I am not here on behalf of him, I am only accompanying someone.” She said looking around the room for Bella. “I had only wished to keep you safe from that madman, I had missed when he lunged for attack but saw when he held the blade to your neck..” She said, bringing her hand up to her own neck. “I do not like to watch as women suffer at the hands of men.” She shook her head.

Fane gestured for Iann to walk with him, “I don’t mind in the slightest…” And while he was content to go and see his ward and fellow commander, his thoughts turned to checking on Lady Lacroy after the incident. Perhaps in a little while.

One side of Miguel’s mouth turned up in a lopsided smile. “Well, it could have its value, but tasting the small differences is interesting, a challenge almost.” His eyebrows twitched a little at the word challenge. He got a couple glasses of the Cipprian Mead once it was opened and handed one to Lord Pettaline. “Of course, I would be more than happy to try mead made from your honey if you would be so kind as to point some out. I’m sure a taste of the wild won’t hurt me.”

“Do you serve the house of the your Mistress? Or just your Mistress alone?” Faye asked. She had no quarrells with sellswords or hedgeknights. She was merely curious. “And as for that, I appreciate it. Truly.” Faye laid a hand on the other woman’s arm. “Neither do I.”

Iann let Fane handle all the re-acquaintances with his Ward and the Oathbreaker. Iann in the meantime looked around, hoping their moving didn’t lose the servant who’d run off to get his mead.

Prelate Theodore raised his eyebrows for a moment, looking even more owlish than usual. “Then that was clumsy, on my part,” he said. “I’d only intended to relay information. Nevertheless, Lady Lacroy, the matter has, as you say, been taken in hand. And I see that you have others willing to come to your aid, such as this young knight here.” He acknowledged Octavia with another nod, but then went still, catching sight of a rather … decorative personage appearing on the other side of the Hall. “Enjoy the festivities.” With that, the Prelate stepped away from the two women, making a wide arc around the perimeter of the Hall in Freddie’s direction.

It took Tuah a moment to recognize them, but that was understandable. The last time they had seen one another, Tuah had been a freshly appointed knight of the Dawnguard and Danian had been a highly enthusiastic ten-year-old aspiring for the same role. Though, his hug was- slightly unexpected. They weren’t exactly used to getting embraced by other members of nobility in public. Nevertheless, they returned it before stepping back to look him over. Quickly, their grin gave way to a harmless scoff, and propping one hand on their hip, they responded. “I would kick you in the shin for that if your confidant didn’t look so ready kick me back.” Not that he was wrong. They had grown and their boots gave them another two inches or so, but even then, their shorter stature was apparent. “Tuah it is then,” they smiled.

Fane as they neared Fane raised a hand and lightly clapped Tuah on the back smiling at him and then Danian the smile growing fonder. “Long time no see strangers.”

“I appreciate the information then.” Faye nodded to the Prelate. “And you as well,” she said as the man moved off in the general direction of a new arrival.

Maya returned only long enough to get the mead and gather her wits. Once done she delivered large goblets to the Lords Cardero as well as anyone else who desired them without a word. It was speaking, generally, that got her in to trouble.

“Hello again,” the priestess said, coming up behind Maya as she had delivered her latest glasses of mead. “I thought you served the House Savin? Not the capitol?”

Fane was surprised when Maya arrived with a tray serving drinks and after taking one off the tray gave her a sidelong look. He’d been about to open his mouth and point out the same, that Maya need not serve the drinks to the other nobles and could partake herself in some of the festivity. She was one of his cohort on this journey after all. But opted to close his mouth and leave the two women be for now.

Octavia laid her hand over the woman’s on her arm for only a moment before bringing it up to her collar. “Protection over women is the one thing I have unwavering belief in.” She said making eye contact with Faye. She studied her face for a moment before moving her eyes around the room, finding her mistress across the way with the two others she left her with. “I serve my mistress alone. I am a knight, protecting her above all else. She allowed me a place to take comfort in knowing I belonged, and for that I am grateful.” Octavia said, looking back to Faye.

Iann noticed the Blackspire crest emblazoned on the servant girl’s dress rather than the Bluesprings. He saw Fane about to address her, but it seemed a Red Priestess of the Light caught the girl first. Iann stayed silent and listened to hear the girl’s response. More out of idle habit, than the expectation to glean anything interesting or useful.

Danian returned Fane’s smile when he approached, offering a slight nod of greeting. “Lord Savin. It has, hasn’t it? What- two years? Things are still well for you up further North, I hope.”

Faye frowned slightly, noticing the other woman’s repeated gesture towards her neck. But she didn’t say anything about it. “I admire that.” She followed Octavia’s eyes towards her mistress. “Belonging somewhere can be hard.” FAye knew from experience. “I"m glad you found your place.”

Ephram accepted the glass that Miguel handed him, their fingers pressing together briefly at the handoff. “I’m not one to back down from a challenge, Highness,” he said, taking a bigger drink of the highly-regarded mead blend than was entirely civilized. “And surely not if it’s something you’d find interesting. The Hall is serving last year’s premium mead tonight, but I’ve got a few different vintages of Honeywild mead in my rooms, in fact. If the feasting and festing doesn’t tire you out too much, maybe you’d like to venture back with me afterwards? Sample the products of my Holding?”

Maya nodded, “I do, but I’m hardly one to let you all languish for lack of mead.” She gave a brilliant if porcelain smile. It was safer, usually, for her to fade into the background as a servants.

Fane didn’t stand so much on ceremony here with Tuah and his ward. “Two years too long hm?” he gave them a more stern look before his smile returned and he opened his arms to embrace them warmly. “The North is as it always is, unforgiving and unchanging. Though far less warm without your presence there. I do wish you’d consider returning back North.”

“I dare say none of the lords or ladies will languish if you don’t serve them their fifth glass.” The Priestess noted the girl’s expression, unable to shake the feeling that she knew her. Or should. “But… doing one’s duty is sometimes the hardest thing we can ask of another person, isn’t it?”

It was interesting to see the servant girl deliver such a dazzling smile. The falseness, Iann understood; but smiling with such dazzle tended to draw attention, compared to the blank, neutral stares of the other servants around them. He sipped his mead, looking over Tuah’s shoulder as Fane and Lovel got reacquainted. He smiled over his cup, at the Red Priestess’ reply to the girl. Those Priestesses were notorious for their sense of single-minded purpose, as well as the heat between their thighs. Not that Iann had ever bedded one, but the stories were intriguing.

Tuah chuckled heartily, hands on Dani’s shoulders. It was odd for him to show such affectionate display, seeing that he usually wore an almost permanent frown on his face. But it was such a relief to see such a familiar face that for a moment he couldn’t help himself. “Do you think I need his help kicking your arse? He’s only here to stop me from doing anything too un-king-ly.” He patted Dani on the shoulder before letting his hands fall to the ground. He turned his attention towards Fane and Iann, his expression now more guarded as he greeted them both. “Lord Savin. Lord Cardero.” If Fane had approached him and Dani alone, he would’ve embraced the other as well, glad to see such familiar faces. But that wasn’t the case, so Tuah decided to keep his lips tight and forced himself to flash a polite smile instead.

Iann licked his back teeth, his smile like a fox. “How goes your High Peninsula, Lord Tuah?” he asked. “It’s been a while since I’ve visited.” The last time, Lord Alexander had been alive; and for Iann it hadn’t been a pleasant visit.

“You may not think so, but I fear they would disagree,” Maya replied. Her expression softened considerably. “It is not mine to ask if duty is a difficult, only to do it.”

Her Majesty, Freddie really shouldn’t have been there. He was neither high-born, nor invited - nor terribly interested in the current monarch (beyond finding the Raj rather appealing physically, and just familiar enough to wonder if they’d met before under rather more intimate and insalubrious conditions.) But still, all that aside, a party was a party; and Freddie had entertained more than enough of the men attending thisone, back in his bed at Mab’s, to make attending it rather good fun. Especially when he happened across some of his more perverse patrons, puffed up with pomp and circumstance, their lady-wives on their arms.

Miguel blushed, a physical reaction that was far from the usual labyrinth of words and lies - there was no way to trick his body into doing that for him. Lord Pettaline’s words caught him off guard. Miguel still didn’t know where Pettaline would sit in his plans, or if he would even be worth the trouble. But he was charming, in a way, without such lofty ideas or holdings to be frustrating. Miguel cleared his throat of mead. “Perhaps. I imagine the mead you bring with you must be the best vintage. Pray, correct me if I’m mistaken.” He watched Pettaline’s face, trying hard to imagine what kind of man he was when he wasn’t around the other nobles. That was what mattered if Miguel was going to follow him back to his rooms.

Prelate Theodore finally completed his circuitous route to the Blue Diamond Whore, hissing at the back of Freddie’s head, “What are you doing here? Surely you didn’t take the Raj’s invitation as literally as to believe that strumpets and harlots should also attend the celebration?” One hand shot out to vice Freddie’s elbow. “Get out. Or – bloody Nines below, never mind that, it’ll make more of a scene than anything else.” His grip tightened in conjunction with his lips drawing to a thin line across his face. “Stay put. Don’t make a spectacle of yourself.” Even as he said it, he knew it was a vain request.

The Red Priestess looked at Maya with an expression that said that what the girl had just said had struck a nerve. A good one. “No it is not. You may yet surprise us all. Maya of No Importance.”

Danian didn’t hesitate to accept Fane’s embrace, even squeezing him for a brief moment before they released him. They couldn’t deny the familial sense of their relationship or the fatherly role that he had filled, even if they refrained from speaking of it. “Well, I’ve been traveling quite a lot here and there over those two years, so you can’t blame me entirely. Believe me- there’s nothing that aches me more than being separated from the North. I have stopped back home a few times, but it’s not nearly enough.”

Octavia felt stuffy in her layered clothes. The leather bodice feeling tight around her waist and the collared black shirt making her feel constricted. She usually wore only a shortened smock and a long sleeveless leather tunic. Octavia took a sip of the wine she received moments ago. “Yes, thank you. I have hopes that others find somewhere that brings them comfort. Or where they find intimacy with loved ones.” Octavia swirled the wine around in her glass. “From where do you hail?” She asked Faye.

“Little Danian, how is my Buttercup? I hear he blossoms whenever he sees you. The boy has a head for two things: blacksmithery, and you. All his letters are full of those two worthwhile subjects.”

Faye had no loved ones anymore. And as for any… intimacy… well, it had been a long time. “The Wildwood Marsh. Not too far from your woodlands, I don’t think.”

“No, quite close actually. The marshes are very interesting. I have only travelled through there once, twas before I came across my mistresses castle.”

Her Majesty, Freddie Initially taken a bit by surprise when he felt a hand close around his arm, Freddie smiled when he realised who it was that had caught him, turning subtly to look the Prelate in the eye, his own gleaming wickedly. “I was a spectacle before I even walked in tonight, darling,” he murmured, as unconcerned with titles and protocol here as he was in his own room at the brothel, “-but do you reallythink my leaving would make more a scene than anything else?” Freddie leaned a bit closer, his voice low, but rich and throaty. “What if I were to get on my knees for you right here? Would that be better or worse?”

Maya shook her head, “I have no intention of surprising anyone. She gave a small polite smile, "If you’ll excuse me.” But then without waiting for an answer she turned away to deliver the rest of the wine and mead on her tray.

Fane typically was more reserved in his affection than this but he had no particular reason to refrain. Iann’s presence was hardly a hindrance in his opinion though he noted Tuah’s sudden tension. Though wasn’t entirely sure why. “You’ll have to tell me all about your ventures… You don’t write nearly enough with updates of your antics.”

Iann chose to look over at the Red Priestess then, and raise an eyebrow at her. His tone was mild and friendly as he spoke to her. “It is good mead, the girl is right about that.”

“Is that so?” Tuah raised his brows when Iann mentioned that he had visited the Peninsula. Perhaps it was during the time where Alexander had been in position of power, since he had never met the Cardero personally during his time overseeing the land. “I hope that your stay was fitting to one of your standing.”

Ephram socked back the rest of the precious Cipprian mead, giving away his rural holding rough manners with the lack of delicate savouring of the liquor. He scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth and leaned in closer to Miguel, a tall tree in a wind bending over a stouter one. “I’ll be honest with you, Prince Miguel,” he said, voice dipping low and confidential, “they’re not, in fact, my best vintages. Not all of them, not by the standards of–” he waved his empty wineglass at their surroundings, “–all this finery. We Easterners tend to prefer mead that goes down a touch raw.” He straightened up again, a corner of his lip lifting briefly. “Not to everybody’s taste, especially those accustomed to gentler handling.”

The Red Priestess watched Maya leave, not following after her. Things would work out as they should. In time. She turned to the group standing nearby, seeing the prince looking her way. “I prefer wine, but yes. She is.” She came over, looking at the adornments on the man’s richly tailored clothing. “I don’t think we’ve met, your grace.”

“I am afraid it was not a fitting stay, no.” Iann’s statement to Tuah was firm, but gently spoken. He didn’t elaborate, but he did look at Tuah square in the eyes as he said it.

“They were beautiful in their nature, every creature there more beautiful than the next.” She said before taking the last sip of her wine. “How will this wine ever give me enough movement for dancing when it is so weak?” Octavia asked. “I’ll need another.” She said shaking her empty glass. “And you?” She asked motining to Fayes glass.

“Not many people chose that road for travel. Too afraid of the witch to take a shortcut. Another,” Faye said, feeling the heat of the place as well. “Please.”

Prelate Theodore’s lips were in danger of altogether disappearing. “Shut up,” he growled, stepping in closer so that he could hold Freddie locked in place, visions flooding his head of Her Majesty prowling through the assembled crowd doing his best to unsettle unfaithful nobles. “I’ve warned you before about this nonsense. You take entirely too many liberties – it’s going to get you noticed by the wrong people, if you keep on the way you are.”

Miguel’s face was still red. When Lord Pettaline leaned down to tease him, his stomach felt full of bubbles. At the word raw all of Miguel’s muscles tightened as one. He needed a breath of fresh air. “We will see where the night takes us.” He needed time to think about it, but time was a commodity he didn’t have. Logic kept him in line, even if every primal instinct in him desperately wanted to taste Lord Pettaline’s mead. “I should…” All of his mind was working on self control, there was nothing left to come up with an excuse to walk away from the Lord of the Honeywilds.

“And yet I see no wine in your hand, blessed or otherwise,” Iann said, since the clergy of any religion usually loved their blessed wine. “No, I don’t think we have, Priestess of the Light. Care to guess?” He had no doubt the Red Priestess was aware exactly who he was; if she were here, she was likely a High Priestess. And in the world of religious fervour, one would make it their duty to know who they mingled amongst. He smiled, because the Red Priestess had already been bested on the semantics of duty, by a servant girl no less.

“Your Highness,” Danian chuckled at Iann with a nod of greeting. “It’s been some time since I last saw him, but I imagine he’s no less the energetic child he was then. He’s a very passionate boy, you know? As long as he keeps himself dedicated to his interests, I believe he has a very bright future ahead of him. And of course–” they turned to look back at Fane, “there’s loads to tell. What’s the point of adventures if you leave them with no tales to tell?” There was a small gleam in their eye when they said that. No number of years or titles imposed could completely erase the lord’s penchant for trouble.

“I’m afraid of many things; but a witch wouldn’t be one of them.” She winked. Octavia decided to share her most kept secret with this woman- only because she herself had been a witch before as well. Octavia reached her hand out to Fayes, touching only her pinkie slightly before retracting. She sent a cool breeze up her arm, swirling around it such as a long bracelet would; starting from her wrist and ending at her shoulder. She motioned towards a table that held bottles upon bottles of mead and wine. “I could bring them here, but to avoid a ruckus we would be smart to take the few steps.” She said tilting her head towards the spirits table.

Fane grinned at Dani’s words, “well then, you’ll have to regale all of us with tales of your adventures then. No doubt you’ve been venturing across land and sea – the latter no doubt of interest to Iann here.” As he’d been speaking with them he’d been sipping his goblet and had gradually depleted its contents. He’d been about to take another sip when he realised that it was empty and sighed, “I’ll return in a little while I need more drink.” With a wave of his goblet he wandered over to the table of caskets to refill his cup in the meantime.

Iann sighed, his eyes closing for a moment as he thought of Buttercup. He hadn’t seen the boy in so long; he was likely not even a boy any longer. When he returned the White Lady to the North, Iann knew he needed to visit his eldest child at Blackspire as well. “Thank you for the news.” Iann trusted Danian’s word. “It’s a pity that we’ve never crossed waves during our travels, Danian. But then again, it is a big ocean.” Multiple oceans of course, but the singular just sounded better.

“Blessed wine is swill watered down by priests who think it will last longer that way. I prefer the real kind.” Her own glass had sadly disappeared somewhere, but she was certain she could find another. The Priestess looked him over, casually reaching out to feel the edges of his robes before humming thoughtfully to herself. She named off his House and title without mistake, dropping the fabric from between her fingers as she did. “How fares your House? Well, I should think?”

A bolt of triumph streaked through Ephram’s belly as he watched the princeling – more baby-featured than his brothers, maybe a little less able to dissemble because of it – struggle to come up with some way to gain himself a reprieve. Ephram didn’t mind granting him one, for a few hours. It would only give Miguel time to keep coming back to everything Ephram had hinted at, stoking his ship’s fires, until he sailed himself right back into Ephram’s harbour when he was too full of mead and desire to resist anymore. “You should, yes,” Lord Pettaline nodded. “I should too, really. We wouldn’t want it to seem like we were giving any of our peers a cold shoulder, would we?” He gave Miguel a wolfish smile. “But don’t stay away too long, Prince Miguel. I’m not partial to tapping my casks with only my own company.”

“I see,” Tuah held Iann’s gaze with his own, unswaying. “I would apologise on behalf of the previous Lord, but it would seem unending if I start doing so.” He straightened his back and moved his shoulder in an almost a shrug. “You’re more than welcome to visit again, though I’m sure you’re far too engaged with overseeing your own nation to even bother with a small land such as ours, hm.”

Her Majesty, Freddie loved it when the Prelate got stern; his disapproval so complete and all-encompassing that Freddie couldn’t help but want to provoke it. But when Theodore’s grip tightened - Freddie would have bruises tomorrow (not that that was anything new) - Her Majesty did as he’d been bidden and stayed put. Though he was far from cowed. “You noticed me straight away,” the whore teased, “Does that make you the 'wrong’ people?” His voice softened slightly, one eyebrow raising. “Or was that some genuine care, and concern for my safety, that you just expressed?”

“That might be foolish of you,” Faye smiled easily, though she meant no harm by it. She watched curiously as Octavia reached towards her, and when the other woman touched her finger to Faye’s, and she felt… gods above… Faye sucked in a breath, her hand closing of it’s own accord as the power rolled up her arm. Something flickered in the depths of Faye’s violet eyes, a flame long forgotten by memory, but not by what was bound in her blood. Magic. “How…” Faye shook her head, and the light started to fade from her eyes, leaving them a soft violet once more. She could only nod as Octavia indicated the drinks table, and moved towards it without further prompting.

Faye was so shocked, so in need of something very very strong to push away the feeling of something she’d never experienced, but remembered nonetheless, that she didn’t see the Lord Savin. And ran right into him. “Fuck…” She looked up, instantly ready to snap at someone. “Watch where- Oh. It’s you. I… apologize.” She reached for the wine and filled her glass.

Iann was distracted by someone deigning to touch him - someone who wasn’t his children or Princess Addeline. He realized it was the Red Priestess, and he was surprised when it seemed she identified him by the seam of his shirt between her fingers. Seemed, of course, being the operative word. He’d never met someone who used this tactic before. “Yes, you should think that, Priestess. The Forty Isles thrives. Have you ever visited our kingdom? I know we aren’t much for the Light, but you’d still be treated hospitably.” Well, that was only partially true depending on what island she visited. But Iann wouldn’t reveal the inner politics of his islands to an outsider. This was all part of the game, anyway.

Miguel nodded, feeling like a mouse staring down an owl. He needed to get his head back in place, he was at the castle to make alliances. Though, wasn’t that a way to make an alliance? He was able to pull himself away from Lord Pettaline to stand in a corner and sip his mead.

Iann looked over at Tuah, extraordinarily pleased that the minor Lord (albeit not so minor now) did what Iann expected him to do, and invited him to visit the High Peninsula. “I value your invitation more than I do your apologies, Lord. They are not necessary.” Did Tuah understand, what the Heir to the Forty Isles visiting the Oathbreaker’s holding would mean to the world watching? He genuinely hoped so. Iann only did it for the strategic geographical advantage, and a mild curiousity of this mysterious minor lord who bested Lord Alexander. “Anyone who served in Savin’s Dawnguard is someone I consider well worth a visit.”

“Would I be privy to hear these adventuring of yours?” Tuah turned his attention towards Dani, “It’s been a while since I was able to travel so freely.” He heaved a sigh and swirled the content of his drink, still full as he hadn’t taken a single sip.

Fane was just helping himself to a few of the richer casks when someone bumped into his back causing him to spill it all over his sleeve “oh for gods sake…” he cussed under his breath shaking out the sleeve of his jacket. He turned with a stern glower to look at whoever happened to be culpable for the act where he’d been about to snap in annoyance he opted to shut his mouth once more. “Oh,” he exhaled and turned his attention back to his sleeve “Lady Lacroy… No it’s fine.”

Danian nodded to Iann with a smile. “Of course. In fact- now that you’ve brought him up, I’m probably long overdue to pay him a visit as well, the way he used to follow me around. Between him and Fane, it sounds like I might be heading there as soon as our visit to the Capital is over.” As they began talking of oceans, Danian gradually began stepping in the direction of the Hall. They had been on the road for… long enough to need a proper drink or two. “Aye, it is. I’m not the best of seafarers though, I’m afraid. The lands across the seas are worth the journeys, but I would take a horse over a ship any day, if I could.” Looking over at Tuah’s request, they grinned. “Yes, of course. Why would I refuse?”

“You flatter yourself.” It was an insipid scold, as reprimands went; particularly because Theodore knew quite well that even though Freddie did enjoy flattering himself – it seemed a favourite pastime of his – those boasts were far outstripped in number by the praise heaped on him by Queen Mab’s clientele. He hadn’t been coronated 'Her Majesty’ for no reason. “I want this night to continue without any more unexpected dramatics, at least of the bloodletting sort. And I can’t ensure that if I need to also keep an eye out for you making trouble, blast it.”

Octavia watched as Faye’s eyes lit up. This had been one of her favorite things about magic- seeing the look on other peoples faces. “My mother was like me, as was her mother. I was supposed to be taught by her how to use what was handed down to me, but she died while in childbirth. Her mother said that her death strengthened me, causing me to take what was hers and double my own. I just don’t really use it, and I don’t know how for the most part, my Grandmother died before she could show me as well.” Octavia sighed, taking a few steps towards the table. She picked up what seemed to be mead, and my the smell of it, strong mead. “Would this be to your liking, M'lady?” She asked. “Oh, more for me, then.” She laughed as she watched Faye fill her glass. Octavia took a sip, nodding along to a melody the band played. “Do you think we shall say in this formal wear all night? I would assume something a little more casual might be fitting for a celebration meant for all peoples.” Octavia shifted from one foot to the other, studying the varying outfits of the crowd.

The Red Priestess thought nothing of touching the prince. There was no law but that of the Lord of Light, and that of the common laws of the land. She meant no offence besides. The cloth was fine and soft, and the priestess could appreciate beautiful things. She glanced up at the prince as he spoke. “I’m happy to hear that. And I have. But it’s been some time. As High Priestess, I’m more needed at the sept than abroad. Though it matters not if you accept the Light, your grace. Our lord will be just as hospitable as your islands, I’m certain.” Did that mean she knew of what went on in some places in the Isles? Not necessarily. But she had heard rumors.

“We had it. Once. A long time ago. But it faded with time. I… thank you for sharing it.” They moved on to the table, and Faye felt bad for snapping at the Inquisitor. “I’m sorry, m'lord. Can I … get you something for your sleeve?” Faye asked. She glanced back at the lady knight. “I certainly hope not. It’s stifling.” Though her gaze travelled in one particular direction, to the long frame of the Lord Savin as he shook his sleeve that was dripping with mead.

Fane noticed the woman from earlier still with Faye deciding there was little to be done to save his sleeve. “Ah that’s kind of you but no, don’t worry, don’t worry… clothes might be dampened but thankfully spirits are not…” his smile returned more gracious now as he noted Faye’s companion and turned a charming smile in her direction. “Aaah! Lady Lacroy’s knight in shining armour, hm? I can’t say I caught your name earlier… Lady?”

“Ah, well. I too have something I’d like to return to the North, and therefore I’ll be visiting Blackspire as well. Did you come by ship or horse, Danian?” Iann asked. “I’d be happy to take you there, if you need a quicker way than hooves on hard packed roads,” he said, teasing the young Lord gently. He turned to look at the Red Priestess, and swept a glass of wine of a tray for her as well. “So then why are you here? To convert the commonfolk and nobility alike?” he asked, amusing himself at the thought. “Or do you come bearing a message or a portent? I know you Priestesses are renowned for those, for better or for worse. Or perhaps your'e here to report the Cloverry’s fanfare back to your sept?” He used the word 'fanfare’ with a friendly sarcasm, considering how austere the Keep was.

“Spirits indeed…” She took a long drink of her wine.

“Of course.” She dipped her head slightly to Faye. Octavia turned to the gentleman that had been with Faye earlier. “I would hardly define myself as such, she rescued herself.” She said turning back to her. “My name is Octavia, though I would seldom call myself a lady as I has not been raised as one.” She smiled at the man. “You must be Lord Savin, lovely to meet your acquaintance.” She said before taking a gulp of her mead.

Her Majesty, Freddie pouted for a moment at the rebuke, then sighed as theatrically as he could, given the accusation of dramatics that had been levelled at him, rolling his eyes to the heavens. “Far be it from me to distract you from your more godly pursuits, Prelate,” he said, resting a hand over his heart, “I’ll be as good as gold from here on out.” Freddie grinned, knowing that Theodore enjoyed a bit of goss - even if he claimed otherwise. “Though I can see at least 6 customers from here - including the one I told you about. With the Scold’s Bridle.” Freddie glanced down at the Prelate’s hand still on his arm. “But tell me about 'any more’ dramatics, yeah? Have I missed the best bits of the evening? I mean, if you’re going to hold me, darling, either fuck me, regale me, or dance with me - otherwise I’ll have to find my own entertainment.”

“No. Nothing so atrocious. I bring the Unnamed Blade to the rightful ruler.” She took the wine with a nod and took a long sip. “The Cloverry are of no concern to us, your grace. They are their own entity, and they do much good. Or so it seems.”

Now Iann was torn between hearing Danian’s tales of adventure, and hearing more about the Unnamed Blade. He’d be seeing Danian again; this Red Priestess, he might never see again. “What is the Unnamed Blade, Priestess? ” And why did it need to be united with the High Raj?

“The blade for the one true ruler. The one from the prophecy.” The priestess said this as if it was no large concern other than getting the blade to where it needed to be. Though it was glaringly not on her person. “Said to be the blade that will usher in a new age of peace.”

Fane pointed an index finger at Octavia before ruminating “indeed, indeed she did.” The same hand and index finger then turned to point at Faye then his brow tipping a little, “fireberries no? Very impressive I must say.” As Octavia introduced herself Fane gave a small nod studying her attire curiously though mostly in search of a sigil to denote who she served, but finding no obvious evidence he ultimately had to ask. “And who is it that you serve? And please, how would you prefer for me to address you?” Though her assumption of who he was earned a small dip of his head, “that would be me, and likewise.” His attention travelled to Faye then “I meant to come and ask at an earlier point in time but my kinsmen kept me busy…” his brow furrowed a little in apparent concern, “how fair you after earlier?”

Tuah internally sighed at Iann’s reply. He should’ve known that Iann wouldn’t say no to such invitation, perhaps even eagerly wait for Tuah to extend the invitation to him himself due to the strategic placing of his small nation. So much to hope that the Lord would decline. Still, Tuah tried his best to keep the polite smile on his face. Despite his personal bias towards other nobilities, it wouldn’t hurt to let themselves be allied with other Houses. He simply needed to find the right one to ally himself with so the past would not repeat itself. “I look forward to your visit, then,” he replied, “and perhaps, if fate’s willing, I’d be able to visit your land.” His smile was more genuine when he turned his attention towards Dani. But before he could reply he was quite distracted by the words of the Red Priestess, he believed what she was called, curiosity piqued his interest.

Faye smiled at Octavia as she spoke to Lord Savin of earlier. “Fireberries,” she nodded as he addressed her, draining her glass as he turned again to speak to Octavia. “Other than a bit of wounded pride and a new scar, I’m fine, m'lord. Thank you.”

“I serve Bellamy, Queen of the Dead Woods. I am her central protector.” Octavia said, finding Bella in the crowd across the great hall. “Just Octavia will do, if you may.” She said tipping her head back to him.

Prelate Theodore briefly and very vividly considered throwing Freddie across the mead table, unbelting his clerical habit, and strapping the saucy wretch within an inch of his reprobate life. The major flaw in that plan was that Freddie would enjoy it far too much. As a matter of fact, the Prelate would also enjoy it to an unseemly degree, and it was in an abrupt attempt to stave off that thought that Theodore adjusted his grip on Freddie to turn them facing each other, stepping smartly forward in the opening move of a traditional findlay dance – his ire only increasing as Freddie immediately, seamlessly, fell in elegant step with him. “The Grand Lady of Summerset was nearly kidnapped earlier,” Teddy told him as they moved in wide swirls across the Grand Hall floor. “And the Witch of the Wilds was attacked by House Kesley. Both attempts foiled, but all the same. It has me on edge.”

“Came by horse, from home. Not the shortest or easiest ride, but it can be a bit of fun if you know where to break,” they grinned at Iann. “I appreciate the offer, but there are a few things back at Wolfhaven I’ll have to settle after my visit here and it’s far more convenient then if I ride up from one Northern keep to another.” After fetching themself cup of mead, Danian indulged in a sip before tilting their head at Iann. “Do you journey much on horseback yourself, Iann?” Then they came to realize that everyone was having their attention drawn to the Red Priestess in the room. Sighing, they took another drink from their cup, this one longer than the last. It was good, but it wasn’t the ale they were used to.

Cassie was late. Which was just a smidgen of an understatement, but the good thing she knew was everyone in the Kingdom would party all night long if they liked, so she couldn’t have missed too much. Cassie finally reached the Keep successfully climbing the stairs and promptly finding a spare cup of mead to carry around with her as she circled the room. She saw many faces she knew and a few she did not. She took a deep breath, knowing her kidnap attempt would probably be brought up in conversation. It had bothered her a tad more than she’d let on earlier in the day, but so was the course of a royal life.

“Sounds fascinating,” Iann said to the Priestess; but it actually did not, unfortunately. He’d hoped to enjoy some fervour and passion from the Red Priestess regarding her Unnamed Sword. “And where, may I ask, are you keeping this sword you intend for the High Raj?” he laughed, glancing at Danian with a mischievous look. “There are many ways to give someone a sword, after all. And many types of…things…that one might refer to, as a sword.”

Her Majesty, Freddie smirked, having seen the little flare of angry lust in the holy man’s eyes, and carried on dancing gracefully, never missing a step or a beat as he asked, “Summerset, hm? Which one is she again?” He pretended at ignorance simply to provoke, punishment being a pastime they both enjoyed from mutually beneficial ends. “And I’m afraid you’ll have to refresh me about House Kelsey’s quarrel too, love.” Freddie’s smirk deepened. “You know I have a much harder time remembering Bluesprings’ ladies, than its gentlemen.”

Fane found himself smiling at Faye’s mention of fireberries shaking his head in amusement. “Truly inspired, I’ve heard of the idea of powdering them but always was led to believe they still remained too viscous to be turned into a fine enough powder.” Though at Octavia’s mention of who she served Fane perked up. “She’s here?” he asked curiously his eyes travelling around the room in search of anyone that might be fitting of such a title but not immediately coming upon her. “I’ve heard tales of your Queen.” Questionable ones he would admit but no less interesting. He found such figures intriguing. “Very well Octavia it is then.”

The Red Priestess raised and eyebrow over the rim of her goblet. “If you mean cock, then I’m quite familiar, your grace. As for the sword, it will come when it’s needed. Unlike so many men I’ve known.”

Iann laughed then, loud but hardly abrasive. “It’s a pity you have to give it away then, I would have loved to see you wield it,” he said. He always had a pleasant and mild tone to his voice, but at the moment his words were less about the game, and more genuine. The Red Priestesses were also known for their crassness. But as a sailor, he’d grown to appreciate such low humour. He raised his cup, looking from the Priestess to Danian, and even to Tuah who looked like he wanted to sink into the marble beneath them and die. “To the Unnamed Sword, may our High Raj use it often, and well.”

“Oh, I didn’t say it was for the Raj, now did I?” the priestess smiled over her cup. “I said the one true ruler.”

“Yes, she is here- in all her glory. Some of these tales are quite exaggerated, but many are true; if not an understatement for the power she wields.” Octavia said looking at Lord Savin. Many gawked at the queen, but she would rather have that instead of someone trying to take advantage of her.

Overhearing the conversation between her brother in law and the mysterious woman, Cassandra let out a slight snort and raised her goblet in agreement only briefly making eye contact with the group.

“Not if you know what you’re doing,” Faye told Lord Savin. “Don’t inhale them. Or you’re fucked.”

Prelate Theodore said acidly, “Since I’m hardly telling you these things for your analysis – seeing as the most you’d be able to offer me is information as to the girth of the cocks of any men even peripherally involved and what faces they make when they come – it isn’t as though you need details.” Theodore was grim, disapproving silence for a few turns across the floor, and then he said, “The auburn-haired sister-by-marriage to the Forty Isles is Lady Cassandra of Summerset. House Kesley,” he emphasized the unusual family name, “bears no love for witches, particularly those who factor large in popular mythos. I doubt they would make a repeat attack on Lacroy, however. At least not for some time, at which point she will not be my problem.”

Danian hadn’t entirely been listening to the words of the Priestess, so when Iann glanced down at them to deliver his witty comment, they nearly choked on their drink. After coughing a second to recover, their look back up at him bore the slightest glare- though they also had to respect the cleverness of his statement. “Well- you’re not wrong.” Luckily the group’s focus had stayed fixed on the woman and not their reaction, so they were content to join in on Iann’s toast. But this woman… she did seem to enjoy a bit of correction. Danian sighed and turned to look elsewhere around the room, spotting the woman who had joined in the raising of their goblets, but she had turned away, and they didn’t want to approach her, wary from her position that she might not be interested in interacted with any of the band Iann had brought together.

The Red Priestess glanced over at the Lady Cassandra, wondering if perhaps it would be her that could pull the sword from it’s casing. She doubted it. But only because she was already of great importance. Though the priestess had no say.

“I would hate for that to be the case, I’m glad I took a step back to avoid your line of fire.” Octavia said raising a brow at Faye. By this point she had been a glass of wine, and a glass of mead in yet the warmth that came from the alcohol hadn’t affected her. She felt warm in the layers, so she flagged down a servant. When they walked over she slipped off her cloak, handing it to them. She unbuttoned the shirt she wore under her leather bodice and slipped it off, attempting to be ride of it without pulling any of her long hairs. The neck piece she wore still in tact. “Now, that’s better, if I do say so.” She dismissed the servant, asking her take her belongings to her room in the castle.

Fane listened to Octavia describe her queen as any devotee would. All her glory. How many times had he heard people say that about their leaders? But he was no less curious about this Deadwoods Queen. “So she does wield blood magick?” Fane had long since believed fables to be just that, these lands had not seen the influence of such things in an age. Though it was the role of the Guard to keep such things in check… To know that there was a potential risk in the city, while it didn’t alter his outward expression he kept a mental note. Though soon enough the woman was occupying herself with stripping off her layers and Fane found himself sipping his drink. “I should hope not…” he raised both brows at Faye’s statement “well, at least in the negative connotation that phrase happens to hold.” He raised his goblet to her with a grin and took another sip of the rich contents.

“You shouldn’t be so dismissive of the size of men’s cocks and the faces of their pleasure,” Freddie said, smiling a bit inscrutably, “Wars have been fought for less.” When Theodore pointed out Lady Cassandra though, Freddie turned his attention dutifully in her direction for a moment, as though glancing upon her for the first time - he liked the Prelate to never be entirely sure if he was clever or not; a bubble-headed bauble or something with a bit more bite - then took his correction regarding House Kesley with an appropriately abashed inclination of his head. Though his eyes continued to smile. “And why is she your problem now, Prelate? Have you been sharing your excesses with witches as well as whores?”

Faye nodded. “The further away you are, the less the effects. Though if sprinkle a bit in someone’s drink…” She took a long swallow of her own.

“Godspeed then, Priestess.” He gave Danian a wink and squeezed Cassandra’s hand, before he headed off.

“I do not speak on behalf of my mistresses affairs, but I do assure you she is only here to celebrate with the others gathered here tonight. Look at these festivities.” Octavia said raising her glass.

“And yourself, your grace,” the priestess called after him.

Prelate Theodore actually gave a sniff of wry amusement at the prospect. “I’ve yet to meet any women arriving for the coronation who see the church as anything other than a pernicious tool of corruption or at best, misguided when compared to their own belief systems. So no, Insolence–” his sibilants sharp on what passed for a pet name, “–there’s been no dalliance of the sort with the witch. I’ve set a few of the Emerald Hand to watching her.” Theodore gave a parched laugh. “I even let her know I’d done it, so that she’d realize her actions are being monitored, but the subtleties of that seemed to escape her. I don’t know why I expect anything diverting when it comes to these self-important provincials, Freddie. Each of them the lone remaining member of their House, each bearing it with noble pained dignity.” He paused at the wine table, procuring another goblet of his favoured resinous green vintage. “Can you appreciate the place in which I find myself? Terribly weary of stoic suffering?” He lifted the goblet to his lips. “Me!”

Fane raised a brow at Octavia’s answer. Not a confirmation but also not a dismissal either. Interesting how you could read into what a person chose to say and not say. “Oh no doubt, no doubt… We’re all here to celebrate after all are we not?” He looked aside to Faye then dark eyes sparking curiously, “but on the topic it does have me interested… What is your opinion of magick? Considering the reputation that goes ahead of you… No doubt you have some opinions on it.”

“My family had magick once. But our ancestor squandered it. So it gradually dried up.” Faye shrugged. Other than the bit she’d just felt from Octavia, Faye had never felt real magic.

As Iann departed, Danian didn’t miss his brief interaction with the woman who had glanced at their group before. Taking it as a sign that they were free to approach, the Northern lord stepped toward her and offered a small smile of greeting. “Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met. Lord Danian Lovel of Wolfhaven.” They gave the lady a short bow. “I do hope I’m not a bother, but I couldn’t help noticing Prince Iann’s stopping by you just now. I take it the two of you are acquainted?”

“Of course I have an opinion on it.” Octavia said raising her eyebrow. “Who doesn’t?” She reached for a bottle of wine, emptying the remaining contents of it into her glass. “I think magick can be light, wonderful, powerful in the most peaceful of ways; but it can also be dark, dangerous. I think it depends on who’s wielding it.” She said looking back at Lord Savin.

Her conversation with the other small group waning, the priestess made her way towards the wine table. “Stoic suffering?” she said wryly as she came up beside the Prelate of the Cloverry. “Don’t tell me the Cloverry is falling down on their job? I quite admire their work,” she said genuinely.

“That’s a selfish thing for them to do.” She said with a shake of her head. “If this is the reality, then why the hateful vengeance towards you? Is it all just in rumor?” Octavia asked Faye.

“I’m no harpy, if that’s what you mean. And I don’t steal men away to father my monstrous daughters. I have no daughters. I haven’t seen a man in… ages.”

Cassie saw them coming over, and pulled the cup away from her lips when they spoke. She smiled gently and nodded. She had not met Lord Danian properly before. “It’s a pleasure, no bother. I know the Forty Isles heir quite well actually.” She couldn’t help but laugh, “We’re related by marriage. I’m Cassandra of Summerset…” Her gaze shifted around the room a moment, “No doubt, I’ve made a sliver of conversation tonight.” At the very least, Cassie could have sworn she heard the Prelate mutter her name. Her brow suddenly furrowed back at Danian, “You’re affiliated with Blackspire estate aren’t you?”

Fane tipped his goblet to the room, “people who don’t believe in it?” Fane offered up in answer to Octavia’s question considering the populus tended to view magick as being extraordinary. Far from commonplace and not well understood therefore a fearful thing. “Ah the eternal debate of good versus evil and innate power and how it’s wielded…” Far too heavy a topic so Fane opted to pick up the vase of wine and top of Faye’s drink considering the contents of her cup was waning “well… there’s plenty here for the picking.”

Gods but she sounded like some simpering waif lamenting her existence. Faye was lonely, yes. But it was simply how it was. Coming here had done nothing but set her out as a target, no matter what Lord Savin, or the Prelate, or Octavia even, wanted to say about it. She knew when she was being watched. But other than the reputation that followed her and the hatred some families had for witches, what did it matter? She only came because she’d been invited. “And they hate me because they can. It’s easy.”

Prelate Theodore looked at Freddie, then turned to the Red Priestess. “Unusual for a priestess of the Lord of Light to outright offer compliments for the promulgation of another faith,” he remarked. “At least, it’s unusual in my experience. Our tenets of penitence are rather at odds with your beliefs, aren’t they? Or am I behind in the latest developments? An entirely likely scenario.”

“Well, whoever is trying to bring you down is already below you.” Octavia said to Faye. “You should not worry about the people who are against you, not while you’re here at least. You are amongst friends, let the foes wallow in their pity.” She brought her glass up to her lips to take a sip. “Plenty here for the picking?” She asked Lord Savin. “Just of drink or has anyone caught your eye?” Octavia motioned around the room with her glass and smiled at him.

Her Majesty, Freddie smiled, almost to himself, at the endearment - because that’s what it was, from a man like Theodore - pleased to be set apart and given a name that would only ever cross the Prelate’s lips, then nodded his head in understanding, as they moved from the floor, their dancing done. “And what is the Wild Witch brewing that you feel needs the Emerald Hand’s attention, love? Is she a threat, or simply a nuisance?” The Blue Diamond Whore chuckled. “In either case, you might have done better to let the assassins take her.” Watching Theodore drink, that elegant throat reminding him of the last time he’d tasted it, Freddie took a goblet for himself, sipping it, and then subtly slipping a hand up the Prelate’s voluminous sleeve to drag an enticing finger over the slender man’s pulse point - there and gone in a flash. “I can sympathise though,” he said with a faintly wry little grin, “-there really is nothing more tedious that the company of those bearing up admirably under the strain of their own honour and fortitude.” He smirked again. “Though, half of those are quietly ready to cut a man’s throat for an extra half-acre of land, so even in their tedium, you can’t afford a moment’s distraction.”

Danian When Cassandra spoke her name, a spark of realization flashed in the young lord’s eyes. “Ah, Your Majesty. It’s lovely to finally meet you.” They couldn’t help glancing around the room as she did before turning their head back to her. At the mention of Blackspire, they smiled. “Yes, I am. I was Lord Savin’s ward there for much of my life. Iann’s eldest and I became quite close,” a quiet chuckle came from them at the thought. “He had a tendency of following me around throughout the day. Very enthusiastic young man- and passionate too. He’s got a bright future ahead of him.” They paused to take a sip of their mead. “I met Iann during one of his visits- and apparently I have been featured in his son’s correspondence as well. By now, I imagine he knows more of me than I know of him.”

“I have no worries that my faith will lose it’s followers simply because I have the ability to see things from a different perspective than most of my sisters.” The Priestess sipped from her glass. “Anyone who seeks to ease the suffering of others shares our most basic beliefs. We are the same in that at least. Why should we not rejoice? ”

Faye could only nod, as she was trying her best to drink away the shaking feeling the touch of magic had given her. Among other things. She had… liked it. And it would be dangerous to think too hard on it. “I don’t worry about them. Only the foolish would dare attack me a second time. I won’t be so kind.” She nodded at Lord Savin as he refilled her cup for her. “Good and evil are all made up by men.”

Fane wasn’t quite so sure he agreed with Octavia’s statements about those individuals being below Lady Lacroy. Recent events he was aware of - namely the attempted kidnapping of the Grand Lady of Summerset and also an attempt on the life of Lady Lacroy? Two events so close to the coronation yet also seemingly unrelated but also equally able to drum up discontent amongst different levels of the Kingdom. One for the nobles, another to raise the ire and suspicion of the common-folk… But also potentially a distraction from something more? Fane rubbed his chin lost in thought as he stood there. Though Octavia’s question, caused him to laugh quietly, “caught my eye? An amusing notion but… No. Not particularly. I leave indulging in such… mm… interests to other lordlings.”

Prelate Theodore directed his attention to the Red Priestess more pointedly; his body language made it very clear that he was no longer going to carry on any interaction with Freddie, that there had never been any reason for him to do so apart from a single polite dance at what was, after all, supposed to be a festival enjoyed by even the most base of commoners. The spot where Freddie had run his finger against Teddy’s wrist felt silvery hot-cold, and the Prelate couldn’t ignore the lingering phantom of that intimate touch – but he could ignore Freddie himself. Treat the man like the whore he was. Remind them both that certain boundaries could only be stretched, not crossed.

Cassie smiled, “I thought so. I know your guardian, business mostly but-“ She squinted, “I imagine I might have seen you in passing from time to time.” Cassandra laughed at the mention of one of Iann’s children, “He must inhabit some of his mother’s tendencies then.” For all his familial support towards Cassandra and her daughter, it didn’t ebb his more infuriating moments. “Lord Iann always makes it his business to know everyone’s business.” She rolled her eyes for emphasis but added wisely, “Just make sure not to give too much of yourself away.”

Prelate Theodore So Theodore spoke only to the Priestess, blocking out all else but theology. “Perhaps what is as yet a singular viewpoint of your own will in time be shared by the rest of your sisters, praise unto the Whole.”

“Praise, indeed. Though as High Priestess, my influence is… far reaching. At least within my own septs.” She watched the Prelate as they spoke, sensing the aura of his faith that he carried like a banner about his person. “I can see why you were chosen as Prelate. An open mind is a rare thing these days.”

Her Majesty, Freddie’s dismissal was sudden and complete - but by no means out of character for the Prelate - and the whore couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as Theodore turned his back, thinking, 'Right then, time to make my own fun…’, drifting off into the crowd, and heading in the direction of a small knot of men talking quietly in a corner - one of whom he’d seen only last night, who’d come to Queen Mab’s with a large courgette and a riding crop. Freddie didn’t intend to stop, but a picture really was worth a thousand words sometimes.

Faye frowned slightly as the Lord Savin said he had no interest in anything or anyone in the room. That he didn’t partake of those pastimes. Not that her mind had wandered there at all during the course of the evening. He was handsome, yes. And he had been kind to her. But such was his duty. Faye didn’t expect anything less. Or more. Certainly not more. But she overcome with a sudden wave of needing some air. “If you’ll excuse me…” Faye said. “We’ll speak later,” she said to Octavia. “Thank you again for earlier.” She glanced at the Inquisitor. “M'lord.” And moved off to find a dark corner to get quietly drunk.

“Well, I’m sure the other lordlings will have a wonderful time with that tonight.” She laughed. The people in the room had sunken into the drinks haziness. She could count more than three couples attempting to hide in the shadows. “Of course.” She replied to Faye. “Maybe I’ll make my rounds. Cheers to you, Lord Savin, Lady Lacroy.” She said, bowing to them. Octavia walked across the room to where a large table with a pile of food sat. She picked off a grape from a vine and popped it into her mouth.

“As long as you were visiting the North prior to the past two years, it’s fairly likely. Though, I tended to prefer the outdoors.” At the mention of Iann and his business, Danian sighed with another slight chuckle. “So it would seem. Unfortunately for him, aside from my travels, I doubt I’m all that interesting. From what I’ve experienced, Southerners like yourself live far more exciting lives than those of us in the North. We have to survive the weather before we do anything else. Still,” a nostalgic feeling turned up the very edge of their lip, a touch of sadness lingering there for the briefest moment, “our home is in our blood. It’s where we belong. Everywhere else I’ve been- I’ve never felt entirely myself.”

Fane had been left alone after Faye had made her excuse in need of air and Octavia in favour of doing rounds. He didn’t mind particularly and opted to take the time to pull off his jacket, the sleeve was ruined and would need a thorough wash out to try and save it from the wine that had been spilt on it. A shame, but ultimately a fixable issue. Waving over one of his servants he requested it be taken back to his room leaving him to roll up his sleeves to his elbows so they were now more out of the way.

Faye sat in silence, watching the room and the unfamiliar faces (besides Miguel and Lord Savin) chatting quietly. Others were more raucous, and Faye found a small bit of amusement in watching them. And the music. Gods it had been so long since she’d heard music… some time later and she was well into her cups, cloak put aside and hair falling a bit out of her braids.

Fane had by now had several more cups of wine. Enough to loosen the edge of his more severe nature and loosen his more uptight demeanour into something more pleasant. While he’d done several rounds of chatting here and there ultimately spied a familiar blonde now saw on the edge of the room. “Now… what’re you doin’ o'er ‘ere, hm?” his accent was thicker when he spoke goblet hanging loosely from his fingers as he stood in front of Lady Lacroy.

Faye looked up as a tall shadow fell over her table. She looked up with slightly bleary eyes to see the… the figures of Lord Savin. But she was in no mood to talk. “Getting drunk. Now go away.” She turned back the mug of whatever alcohol she was drinking currently.

Fane cocked his head at the abrupt answer, “can’t get drunk alone, s'no fun.” Promptly he swung one leg over the bench and sat lazily straddling it as he deposited the jug and his drink on it. “Quite the party o'er here,” he wiggled his finger indicating the general vicinity.

“Yet I’ve somehow managed it without you. Will wonders never cease.” She tried to glare at him as he sat - uninvited - down next to her, but she couldn’t decide which one of him to focus on. “A party of one. Now go away.”

Fane chortled at her attempt to glare at him over the table. “You’re funny, hm, yes, very funny” he raised his drink in a slight salute before taking a gulp. “Aah but no!” he laughed exclaiming a touch too loudly leaning forwards on his forearm and pointing at her. “Not one. Because… Now I’m here. So…. it’s now a party of… of two.” To embolden this particular statement of very, serious logical fact the Inquisitor held up three fingers.

Faye was not amused as he sat down very close inside her personal space. She leaned back slightly as he pointed at her, and nearly swatted at his hand. Except he held it up, along with three fingers. Faye’s eyes narrowed, and she looked between him and his…more than two fingers. “Can you /be/ an imbecile and really be the Inquisitor?”

Fane frowned as she narrowed her eyes looking at her and then his hand and back at her still very serious before a fourth finger flicked up to join the prior three. “Two… Twos, two split makes… two.”

“Four. It makes four.” She reached for her drink. “Do you really not have any skills at all? Or does the Guard just run on luck and watered down ale? Because this…” She held up two fingers. “Is two. And this.” She put one down. “Is you leaving.”

Fane shook his head forlornly. “No no no, see…” he kept his hands up as they were his index and middle fingers pressed together tightly as they were presently in the air on either hand “this is two but–” he tilted his head before splitting his fingers apart “this is four.”

Faye merely shook her head. “Well, you wouldn’t be the first man to think he’s more talented with his fingers than he actually is…”

Fane knew his brows had gone towards his hairline, a flush rising in his features and it was debatable if he was on the border between embarrassment or anger. That is until he snorted ungracefully and started to laugh jovially, “I see what you did there… Fingers and… hmph… Smart… You… are very smart.”

Faye knew he was drunk. But so was she. Normally she wouldn’t have dared speak so frankly, and she certainly didn’t /really/ think he was unintelligent. It was just… being here was a lot. Talking to so many people in one day had drained her. So what finally made her laugh was the way he started to flush. And the fact that the one thing he seemed to understand was her… innuendo. She snorted her own laugh. “Does that mean I’m mistaken and you do know how to use them?”

Fane waggled his brows and picked up his goblet tilting it a little at her almost spilling some but pulling it back just in time to take a sip. “That… now, that… Would be telling.”

Faye watched the wine nearly slop over the sides of his cup, but didn’t move away this time. She was afraid the room might spin out from under her if she moved too quickly. “Means no then?” She raised her own eyebrows at him. “I wonder if that pretty knight is still around… she probably knows a thing or two…”

Fane snorted again and made a face as he levelled her with a look across the table “why so… curious?” he questioned changing tact, “curious t'find out?”

Faye looked at him evenly, feeling overly warm in the heat of the party. “Maybe I’m tired of being lonely for once.”

Fane opened his mouth and closed it then before opening it once more and closing it again. He looked at her for a long time, though his brow furrowed deeply. “Being lonely’s a choice… You don’t… have to choose it.”

Faye returned the look, her eyes flickering slightly with something she didnt’ speak out loud. They were sitting close enough that she eventually reached out and toyed with the ends of the laces on his shirt. “And I choose not to be…” she said eventually.

Fane rarely indulged as he had tonight, typically having far more restraint than he was presently showing. But then again he was so damn tired, eight years since his wife had passed and he’d kept his own council. He served and performed his duties day in and day out without question. So what if he wanted something for himself for once? Though feeling eyes on him caused him to turn his head a fraction to the group standing nearby eyeing them with a stonier look. Though the play of Faye’s fingers drew his attention back to her before he said quietly under his breath so that she might hear but the others would not. “Go… Give me… a little time then… I’ll… walk you to your chambers.” He would take a different exit and walk around.

Faye looked at him evenly still. It had been years for her as well, since she’d shared her bed with anyone. Never marrying, but occasionally finding company in those that passed her way. It was very lonely, and Faye had chosen it. Because she was afraid. But this man had been exceedingly nice to her. When he didn’t have to be. She’d tried to get him to leave her alone, but he didn’t leave. And Faye knew that didn’t mean they would fall in love and get married or any of that, but for once she really would like to not be alone. Which is why she only frowned slightly as he told her to go first. A small nod was all she gave him as she collected her cloak and made her way out into the street, passing slowly beneath the torches as she waited on him to join her. Though a part of her thought he wouldn’t.

Fane lingered in the hall, making a point to finish off his drink and press the heel of his palm to his eyes exhaling shortly. Hawks, the lot of them, hovering for the smallest morsel of gossip to shred apart and this was his reputation they were wanting to grate. He made a point once he rose to stop and chat to several Lords and several minutes later circled slowly around to the staircases.

Faye waited, walking slowly along the walk as if she were looking out over the city below. But the longer she was there, the more she realized that this might be a trick. A few more minutes passed, and she realized that more than likely it was a trick. That him sending her out before him was nothing more than an excuse to give her the slip. And after she’d thought that he just might be genuine. But that was foolish of her. Why would a man like him want to be seen going back to the chambers of someone like her? He wouldn’t.

Fane glanced around, that is until he caught sight of his companion for the evening pacing on one of the walks. “Why are you pacing?” but lingering wasn’t a clever idea, explaining why Fane politely proffered her his arm. “Come…” who knew how many eyes were on them even in these empty halls.

When his voice came through the still night air, Faye startled slightly. But she was too surprised to do much else besides take the proffered arm and walk along beside him. “It’s kind of you to… walk me home, m'lord. It’s a dangerous place these days. For a lady… all alone.”

Fane dipped his head a fraction in response to her thanks. “The least I could do…” his eyes however scanned the walls cautiously. They walked in otherwise companionable silence back through the castle towards their destination.

#got au #got scene

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