Inouv 29, 228: The bond between Mother and Son

Queen Laetitia is happened upon in the Kings Study by her drunken son Logen and the two do a bit of bonding and understanding.

The bond between Mother and Son
Summary: Queen Laetitia is happened upon in the Kings Study by her drunken son Logen and the two do a bit of bonding and understanding.
OOC Date: 18/12/2013
Related: None
Logen Laetitia 
King's Study
The room is nicely appointed but austere. Floor to ceiling bookcases dominate the walls, the many-colored spines presenting a varied but demure mosaic within the walnut frames of the shelves. On one wall, a large stone hearth presents itself, the fire always tended to drive off the chill of interior castle rooms. Above the fireplace one may view a portrait of Callem Kilgour's children.
At one end the room is a heavy oak desk, always strewn with bits of writing in progress and stacked with books. Comfortable chairs are placed almost randomly around the room, each with its own table and lamp. In one corner is a rather long, comfortable couch, upholstered in azure fabric, with a blanket of llama wool thrown over the back and several comfortable pillows at one end. From the indentations in the couch, it is clear that someone naps here frequently.
Inouv 29, 228

The evening meal has come and gone and Laetitia has retired to her husbands office for the evening, a perfect place to nurse the newest addition to the family, little Laela. Mother and child are seated on the couch that is frequently used by the Queen, the King having just left to go and do some duties. One of Lae's ladies is with her, Winifred, who is knitting in a corner chair, while guards are set out the door. That leaves the Queen in relative peace, a soft blanket pressed over the baby and her shoulder as she nurses, soft humming coming from her throat, a window open and the fireplace going merrily, scents of spices coming up from it from the various branches set in that smell wonderful.


The Study is a small hub within the castle. And indeed it can lead on to other places, if one knows the right way to come in and to leave without disturbance. Given the time it is at night, and what with whatever delegations could be in Darfield, one fellow is taking a risk, in order to keep to himself-and away from prying and likely gossiping eyes. The other door creaks softly, giving way to another visitor. Though, this one is a long way from nursing.

Unless it was from a bottle.

Bloodshot eyes-seem almost sober enough as the young man clad in black suddenly finds himself looking to his mother, and youngest sibling in the midst of a meal. Coughing he turns his head politely, as eyes roll towards Winifred. He stands in almost ashamed silence for a moment.

"I can go back out-" not necessarily the most proper of greetings from son to mother. There are no titles. Just the muted rasp of his voice."-I didn't know you would be in here."


There is an almost palatable coolness that comes from the queen upon notice of her son, his voice immediately causing her spine to straighten up, the blanket covering anything that would be unseemly in such a situation, "Logen, my lovely child." While normally her words would be warm, smooth and welcoming, they lack those qualities this time around, mostly said because, well. He is still her son, despite all the heart ache he's inflicted upon her.

Winifred rises up, "Your majesty." Though a clear look to Laetitia holds a question in the elderly womans eyes as she retakes her seat, Laetitia giving a small shake of her head. No need to get Callem. She's quite sure she can handle her son, as it is he seems to be in a better sort of state right now, as in somewhat sober, or at least as much as she can detect with a look upwards. The woman will raise her brows expectantly, "Well, I'm certainly in here oft enough, come. What brings you here-" A sudden narrowing of her gaze. Perhaps his fathers private stock.


Eyes narrow slightly at Winifred, but still he answers his mother all the same. "Let's be honest." his voice racked there. "I've not been your lovely child for some time." dry and he is looking back towards the Queen. "There was likely a time I was, but I've done much there to burn that particular title from my list." his own smile is sad and not lasting.

"Of course.." uttered because it makes sense, moreso than anything else. "Not that." it's quick and bitten out, almost in a grimace on his face, before one hand raises up. and his voice softer, due to the little one. "Not that." added. "I was cutting through-I've been trying to avoid." everyone really. "I don't believe I knew hurt-or cared to know it." his words ramble out, like someone talking in their sleep. "Why do you keep me?" at all?


A resigned sigh from the Queen, not able to count how many of these rambling conversations she's had with her son, though they usually take on a much more acidic tone in which he lays blame for all his woes on his parents. The Queen will peek beneath the blanket to the infant child who looks up at her with beautifully round eyes, the child content with the world as is, but not yet done feeding. A soft smile comes unbidden to her lips, Lae unable to stop such a thing, gazing a moment before Logens words draw her back, "No, you have." Laetitia will reaffirm, looking up to Logen, "You've just chosen to not take part in being as much. It doesn't change my love for you, never will, though I have to admit I have not liked you for some time." Love and like are two different things.

Then he continues on and she will sigh again, reaching out while cradling Laela with her other arm, to pat the couch beside her, "Logen. Sit down. Your self-pity is enraging but I can not slap you from here." If it wasn't for the sudden warmth behind her words it could be a real threat! Or it likely is, but her tone shows that she does indeed still love him even though she'd like to smother him at times.


"I could come closer, if it helps you." Logen replies though his humor is likely lost in this situation. His smile shows and disappears rather quickly "I've not done well as your son, would that be fair if not light to say?" he asks carefully, before he is moving to take a seat, pouring himself in as one might pour a wine or bourbon. One hand slides up and rubs his face carefully. "To be honest mother, I have not liked myself for sometime." he adds with a glance to her.

"I am really not trying to wallow in self pity-I actually. I don't know." Logen says finally with a shrug. "I've fucked up mother."


"Well, that's putting it in rather simple terms, Logen. You've done more than …" Okay, one thing the Queen does not like doing is swearing, she finds it distasteful, so she chooses her next word carefully, "…that." Okay, so she couldn't find an adequate word in the moment, plus she has a child at her breast, words! "You've brought shame upon our family and made us look weak with your …" Ugh. The woman just died, "…Chosen actions." Now that he's sat down she will sling her free arm about his shoulder, shaking her head slightly, "I like to think that it was Inouv who took your brains and stole off with them to the underworld and you were our little brainless duckling who was simply trying to do as he could without much sense to guide him." Isn't she sweet? She's sweet. Those pale green eyes will study her son from this vantage point a moment, the baby making little throaty noises from beneath the blanket as if agreeing, "Perhaps he's chosen to return them to you finally."


"I don't have it in me for grandiose terms, mother." Logen replies quickly, before he is looking back to the Queen. His bloodshot eyes focused on the nursing woman. "Whore?" he asks, suggesting a word there, before he looks away. There's no anger there, just acceptance as he nods on. "You know, all I wanted was love." and there a hand raises before his mother can interject. "and I am not saying you did not give it to me. I just craved to have the same things, Tyrel had. The same chances. I wanted marriage and children. A heart I could anchor myself into. I know that is not a luxury for our people. Our blood and station. And I selfishly, let myself do it." A glance back to the Queen and he bows his head.

"I was drunk through this whole marriage. I was. Not perhaps as bad as I am now, because I have come to the realization of the things I built around myself. It was all on sandy and shale foundation. Weak." A glance up. "I don't know if I deserve that."


The Queen truly doesn't need to interject, he's doing quite a wonderful job of describing things in terms she'd only say in truly close company, i.e., Her husband. And Roslin, perhaps, since they share such a bond. Without the vulgarities of needing to curse. The blonde woman will glance down to the infant at her breast as she listens to Logen, nodding her head in complete agreement with him, "You and your sister Caillin are alike in many ways. You have no common sense, far too emotional and soft in your hearts and minds. I'm not sure who you got that from, perhaps my own mother, though I never really had a chance to really confirm that suspicion."

Your entire family slaughtered tends to leave those options to trace family characteristics out of the realm of possibility. Tucking her hand beneath the blanket she'll unlatch the child gently from her breast, out of view with that blanket as it is, the child having fallen asleep. Carefully she will press her gown back up, a wiggle of her shoulder done as she continues to speak.

"That is perhaps the very crux of your issues, your love of drink and excess. You should take on a priest, like your sister Roslin, to help guide you. A spiritual advisor. I'd …recommend Roslins', but …your proclivity to just …lay with things with heat beneath their thighs is likely to draw suspicion to her, and I won't have that good womans name smeared." A distasteful grimace touched her lips briefly, the mother glancing over to her son with dismay, "Love. Honestly, Logen." A shake of her head, "You could take any noble as a wife, truly …chaste and noble women with /true/ intentions, and love could blossom, but your future is not your own. Not entirely. Once you are married off /properly/, then you can …draw those lines in from the sea, have your children, your love-"

And carefully she will wrap that blanket about the infant with the soft blonde locks and cherub cheeks, the child a little chubby angel, and look at those lips, to hand the child over to Logen, "You /could/ have what your father and I share. And children galore to fill your halls."

Laetitia cradles the wee child against her chest when he doesn't take the child, kissing the top of her daughters head with a slow nod to Logen, "Thankfully you still have worth as a Prince, Logen, if you were some lesser noble I'd have more cause to worry about you." Its a sharp thing to say, but a true one, the Queen shifting in her seat to hand the baby off to Winifred who will gently cradle the child as she moves off to head into the suite itself to lay the child to sleep while the Queen talks more frankly with her son, "But in order to do that you /need/ to show yourself as having repented. You need to start going to Temple. You /need/ to ease up on your drinking, at least while not in your own rooms, and above all …keep those eyes of your on the /prize/ and off the bosoms of ladies."

Said firmly, the Queen rising up to move to pour herself a glass of wine from a decanter on the Kings desk, "And for the sake of your family, come around /more/ and stop skulking about like some child afraid of getting his bottom swatted. /Be/ with us, rekindle things with your sister Roslin and stop taking pages from your sister Caillins book and be /strong/." The goblet is raised to her lips and drunk deeply of, speaking with Logen always exhausts her so, though today's better, much better. Leaning one hand on the desk she'll turn to look over her shoulder at her son, frowning. "Don't be crass. I didn't raise you that way and no words a Prince should speak in front of a Queen or his mother."


Logen looks back towards his mother and there's a brief nod given. Even if the words sting. It is likely something he needs to hear. "Surely my delving into drink right now can be forgiven, given the circumstances?" leaning on the crutch a little more, the Prince falls silent again. A glance is given to Winifred as she leaves before he is looking back. "I know. I know these truths, and honestly-I want to." the next part gets a laugh before he can interject further. "I can try to keep my eyes upwards. But what is my prize, my Queen? What am I destined for?" he asks as he shifts on the couch, before he is looking back. "Sorry." added before he is coughing lightly. "I am not afraid of having my ass swatted. I am more or less worried about the damage I have already done."


"Absolutely not. Your drinking has been the cause of most of your woes. You have no excuse now. Yes, your wife is dead, but — to the people, it must look as if you are spurred on to make /good/ of her memory, not further sully it with your drunken prowling. You need to grow up, Logen, and start taking your duties seriously."

All said firmly, though not unkindly, the Queen sniffing lightly as she eases away from the desk to walk around the office slowly, her gown gently sweeping the floor, peeks of her toes revealing bare feet, "A chance to be a Prince, Logen, and not merely a fallen creature. You, as all my children are, are destined for great things. To help rule these lands and others, to bring prosperity not only to our name but our /people/. They are your family, Logen. Along with us. Steer your gaze to the importance of that and your role in their wellness."
The prince in this moment is content to sit in silence under the lashing of his mother's tongue. Keeping his gaze downward, he says nothing, allying his fingers to grip at thigh, and couch, before he offers a nod. There is no sulk to his features. Just a hardness that barely creeps up. "I know." he adds after a moment before he is looking back towards Laetitia. "I am sorry." Meant, even if it might be too late to offer such apologies now.


Hesitantly, he rises up. "One day, I do hope you and Father can forgive me."

"Oh Logen …" Exasperation is keen on the Queens lips as she tilts her chin just so to set a look upon her son. Silence then as she sets her goblet down, striding across the room, her arms lifting as sleeves of her gown drop down to her elbows, hands seeking out her sons shoulders, from which she'll slide in against him for a firm hug, "We have forgiven you /long/ ago, we just have such keen memories that are kept aflame by your actions."

Said with her cheek pressed against his, his mothers word given in earnest as she hugs him tightly, "Just as we have, and always will, love you so fiercely. If we did not love you our disappointment in you would not be so deep." Leaning back she will bring a hand to his cheek, searching his gaze, "Tell me you will try, Logen. Or if I should let my hope die for you and simply wish for you a long life."


The Hug, knocks him ajar, briefly, before he is returning it. Embracing his mother hard and tight. The Prince allows for his eyes to close and for his head to bow. A shaking breath is taken, before he is nodding against her hand. There eyes open as he looks back to find his mother searching his gaze. If there was a strong enough breeze, it'd likely knock him over.

"I promise." he whispered finally in response. "I promise I will try." and there he tries a smile. "It's all I have."


Laetitia's face will fall slightly, her smile soft and sad for her son, both hands coming up to cup his face now, fingers running over his features as she shakes her head, "My sweet, sweet Logen." A very minute shake of her head, those blonde locks of hers dancing about her shoulders like golden waves, "That's all I can ask-"

Leaning in she will give him a kiss upon his brow as she pulls his head down so she can do so, hugging him then in against her chest, a hand smoothing through his hair, "-and all I can hope." One last squeeze and she leans back again, releasing him.

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