42nd Sess, 229: Speak with Her

Speak with Her
Summary: A man who's sister has just married speaks with a man who's sister is about to.
OOC Date: 28/Mar/2014
Related: Chronologially after Debunking the Rumour
Caedmon Eoin 
Dining Hall - Greenshire Manor, Stormvale
Stone floors, a vaulted ceiling and a large stone hearth at the far end of room greets guest. Natural light is let in through high windows, which are at least 8 feet up from the floor and stretch towards the ceiling. A formal old dark and mahogany table graces the room, along with red velvet cushioned high back chairs that sit sternly around it. Tall silver candelabras stand spaced at intervals along the table. Soft yellow bee wax candles from a local beekeeper rest in place on it of the great silver pieces. Between each of the candelabras are fresh cut flowers from the garden. Theses flowers fill the room with their rich scent. The stone floor is padded with colorful hand woven rug and the walls are covered with tapestries featuring hunts.
42nd Sess, 229

One of the guards steps into the dining hall with Caedmon striding not far behind him. "I do not want to disturb the admiral if he is resting," Caedmon says in a formal tone. "He endured more of a strain than many who were there." He pauses to look around the spacious hall which always seems to have something new, usually new flowers or other decorations that Moira adds on a regular basis. "I shall wait here if you need to go and check on him first. If he is indisposed, I can leave the books for him and return later to visit." He reaches with his right hand to tap the outermost of a small stack of slender books that he is carrying in his left arm.

Eoin has found that since someone very kidly ploughed an axe into his gut that it's easier to eat little and often rather than three square. As such, as the guard is likely aware, he's currently sat at the table nibbling his way through a small hunk of bread that accompanies the bowl of broth infront of him. Hearing others enter he glands toward the door and nods to Caedmon as he steps through the door, catching enough of the conversation to wave the man over to indicate that he is not in fact indisposed. "Lord Voice, to what do I owe the honour?"

Caedmon nods to the guard and steps toward the table. He shakes his head and advises, "It's nothing formal enough for titles." He glances toward the entrance from the foyer, and adds, "I also brought an answer to aletter that Moira sent to us in the morning." He sets the stack of books on the table not far from where Eoin is eating, but far enough so that stray crumbs are unlikely to land on them. "I thought that I might enquire about your well-being while I am here, and since you were enjoying some adventures yesterday, I thought that you might appreciate more material." He taps the topmost book. "They are from the library in the castle."

Eoin sets the bread down, along with the soup spoon, and gestures Caedmon to a take a seat. "I believe the Countess is in the garden, although she may have moved since I saw her last," he answers, leaning back in hiw own seat. Eyeing the books a moment he gives a greatful nod and then turns back to Caedmon, "thank you, I appreciate it." Before he asks, with a faint grin, "and how much of this visit do I owe to your lovely wife?"

"She knows that I came, but in truth, she gave no other request than that I should wish you well on her behalf," Caedmon answers with a chuckle while he pulls out the seat and settles himself at the table. He gestures to the books. "I did notice you reading yesterday. I enjoy good books. I thought that you might welcome a few additions to fill the time while you are recuperating. If you fear that I will report any … liberties that you have taken, you need not worry. As I told her, she has enough to manage with the patients in her infirmary. You are here, among family who will take care of you and send for her if you need her. For my part, I have enough worries with answering to our new king, and I understand that if I were in your place, I would become restless if I followed healer's orders too strictly."

Eoin tilts his head towards the boks briefly, "It passes the time. That and I doubt I yet have the focus for affairs of state so such tales fill the gap." Easy to read, easy to put down, easy to pick up again. Perfect. Lifting a glass of some variety of fruit juice to take a sip he asks, "how is our new King? I have not had time to speak with him for a while now, not since we were planning that raid on Laniveer in fact. I know the lose of his father must have been hard on him." Another drink at the thought of the dead king and then he notes, "your sister was here earlier. Apparently there are rumours around regarding Rorey's incident last night."

For a moment, Caedmon frowns and focuses on one of the flickering candles. Then he shrugs. "I have known Tyrel from birth, yet at times, I feel that I hardly know him," Caedmon confides. "I think that the crown weighs heavily upon him, although Callem tried to prepare him for this time." He shifts his attention from the flame to Eoin. He nods. "I think that he will adjust. He is a Kilgour, and not prone to surrender easily. As he hinted at the coronation, he intends to change some things. Time alone will tell whether he has changed the /right/ things."

Eoin nods slowly as Caedmon answers, taking another sip of his drink before pushing his spoon around the bowl a bit. "I am sure he will grow into the role," he offers with a slow nod, "he's a man who knows his mind. The timing leaves an amount to be desired though." War time, never a good time to loose one's soverign with no advanced notice. Giving up on the spoon and letting it drop into his bowl he leans back in hos chair fully and asks with more than a hint of reluctance, "will he be at the wedding?"

"The wedding?" Caedmon wonders. He frowns uncertainly. Then he chuckles. "I apologize. We have seen so many weddings lately that I am not sure which you mean." He shakes his head. "If you mean that of my sister, I do not know," he admits with a shrug, and then a heavy sigh. Again, he looks to the dancing flame of that candle while he adds, "I am not certain whether I should presume to be there."

Eoin knows of only one wedding immediately planned and nods as Caedmon correctly identifies that as Nylie's. There are others of course, Rorey's for exaple, but so far as he knows there's no details of that one arranged. His expression shifts to a frown though as Caedmon finishes, "how do you mean? You're her brother, of course you should be there."

Again, Caedmon's eyes leave the candle and return to Eoin. He nods. "Nylie and I are Kilgours," he begins, stating the painfully obvious. "As king, Callem was the head of our house. By law, he agreed to the contract." He exhales a sigh of resignation. "I had no say in the matter, although Nylie tells me that Callem /intended/ to speak to me about the duke's proposal before it became official." He bites his bottom lip and his eyes drop to the table, where they linger for a moment, as if he is studying the grain of the highly polished wood. Then he lifts his eyes to focus on Eoin. "If, indeed, he intended to tell me, he died without fulfilling that intention. I learned of my sister's fate from Nylie herself, after the duke had made his bargain. I had no opportunity to object, except to her."

Eoin tilts his head slightly as he listens to that, something obviously not sitting quite right as Caedmon speaks. "You said though that you wanted it to be her choice, to give her the freedom. This is her choice, it makes her happy, I thought that was what you wanted?" Leaning forwards to rest his forearms on the table he looks confused as well as concerned. "She knows her own mind Caedmon, surely you know that as well as I do? You fought for her to be free from political constraints and now she is, how could you not go?"

Caedmon inclines his head slowly. "I wanted her to have that freedom. I wanted her to be happy," he acknowledges. "Before she told me about this … arrangement, I received reliable reports about the duke's … behavior at the wedding of Duke Ronan and Princ— Duchess Roslin. He took her hand without permission and led her into a hedge-maze alone, without guard or handmaiden. By that action, he disgraced her. The king, the head of our house, saw fit to turn a blind eye to this atrocity. He disgraced her and the one person with the right to challenge that disgrace ignored it."

That appears to be news to Eoin and he frowns deeply as he considers the implications for several moments. Eventually though, he shakes his head slowly, "she's still made her choice. He makes her happy, what is more important than that?" Pushing the chair back he stands slowly, turning to begin pacing. "It makes no matter Caedmon, she has made her wishes clear and you said you would respect those. What is done is done and can not be undone," or he'd be skipping back a few months himself no doubt. Stopping to rest both hands on the table and lean forwards he still looks more than a little confused as he states, "as a brother who has just seen his sister married, take my advice. Nothing is more important than to see her smile. You might not approve but do not let that ruin your relationship with her. I know that she loves you, and I know that you love her. Go to her wedding, be there. She's had a hard enough time of late as it is, don't abandon her now. Go."

Caedmon sighs. He watches while Eoin rises and begins to pace. "Like our departed king, the duke has no regard for me." He pushes back the chair and walks to one of the looming windows. Standing there, he peers into the darkness. He turns to look at Eoin. "If he did, he would not have intruded on Wenna and myself, barging without permission into our chambers as he did, dragging Nylie with him as if she were already his slave, to inform me that he would marry her." His hands ball into fists. "If I had been armed, as I should have been …" He takes a deep breath and holds it. His hands begin to tremble slightly. "Fortunately, I did not promise to like or even respect him." He shakes his head. "If she is happy to marry him, then I will accept that. I accept that she chose freely, and I accept that I cannot alter that choice," he answers. "I love her. I have told her that. I also have told her that if she needs me, I stand ready to help her. If she wants me to be at her wedding, she should tell me. Otherwise, I will not intrude. That is best."

Eoin rests one hand on the back of the chair he had previously ben sat on, and turns to watch Caedmon as he moves towards the window. Staying immobile as the other speaks he frowns at much of the first half before his expression relaxes once more towards the end. Taking a deep breath he eventaully moves, steadily, to stand next to him at the window, saying quietly, "I am glad that to hear that," the end bit at least, about how he's prepared to stand by her, "but I know shehas taken the King's death hard and is suffering much of late. I will admit freely that I have not spoken with her on this, but please, take that step. Ask her. She may well feel that as her brother she doesn't need to ask, or thing might slip her mind in the termoil. If things go poor she will need you, and not just in word. Ask her. Don't risk alienation through misunderstanding. Promise me that."

When Eoin crosses the room to stand beside him, Caedmon turns to face the man, tilting his head slightly to look up to him. He clasps his hands behind his back. "I intend to visit her soon, if possible. I know that she is in turmoil over Callem's death. Trusted servants have told me that she broke several of her instruments. That is a sign of her distress. Our mother … succumbed to similar grief. If I can prevent her from walking that path, I will do so. I will try to assure her. I can make no promises beyond that." He takes another slow, steadying breath and he looks toward the door. "The hour is late," he observes. "I fear that I have troubled you when you should be resting." He steps back and bows to Eoin. "I should go." He nods to the books waiting on the table. "Enjoy the diversion," he urges.

Eoin looks perhaps, faintly annoyed when yet another person makes comment on when he should be resting, but in the grand scheme of things he'll get over it soon enough. A slight nod indicates that he is aware of the issue with her instruments, but the faint canting of his head likely implies that the link to their mother was unknown. Still, Caedmon is right about one thing, it is late. "Speak with her," he urges gently once more, "even if it means swallowing your pride. I know I would do anything for Beth and believe you the same, just make sure she knows that, I mean, don't just tell her, show her. Be there for her." That last one is in general, not merely specific to the wedding, but it works for both. "Good night," he then offers, given the other is intent to leave, "and walk safely until you are within your own chambers once more."

Caedmon bows once more. "I will speak with her if she has time for me," he agrees. "Whether she will listen and how much she will hear, I cannot guess. If she has been listening already, she knows that I have opened the door to her twice. I stand ready, but I will not intrude where I am not welcome. That is what he apparently does." He sighs. "Good night, Eoin, and thank you," he concludes. With a nod, he heads for the door that leads toward the grand foyer.

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