Nar 13, 229: The Favorite Sister

The Favorite Sister
Summary: Roslin and Tyrel speak on the matters of the day, and Tyrel is spat upon.
OOC Date: July 14, 2014
Related: None
Tyrel Roslin 
Sutherland Suite
The Apartments that have been assigned to the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland smells faintly of mint and roses, and the windows are kept open, allowing in natural light and fresh air into the apartments. The rooms are decent-sized and there are finely woven tapestries that have been hung from the stone walls. Exotic carpets sit on the stone floor instead of rushes there are carpets which offer warmth and a splash of color.
One room is a finely and ornately decorated sitting room. The room has been decorated with hard wood and heavy furniture that has brocade upholstery and comfortable cushions. There is also a loom that sits in the corner next to a large fireplace; there is a sitting area round a small table where meals can be taken.
Nar 13, 229

The Duchess of Sutherland has been spotted out and about in the castle this morning. It is reported that she visited her former lady in waiting, Elisabeth, who has just given birth to twins. She is back now in her rooms, under the watchful eyes of the fleet of healers assigned to her. But she seems well, wandering the suite now with the babe in her arms, loosely wrapped in fine cloths. SHe herself wears a loose gown of purple cotton, that does not tightly fit to her form - that form is still lacking, after all. It appears more as a loose robe than a gown, but it is appropriate. She is dictating to a secretary.

"Furthermore, if it should become necessary to slow production in the sapphire mines until new stabilizing structures may be constructed, it is my sincere hope that you do so with all possible speed so that the workers may safely continue their trade and continue to draw their very necessary wages." She says, leaning over the scribe's shoulder to check his work, while bouncing the baby against her shoulder.

You say, "…and so that my sister is not bereft of adornment suitable to cool the flush which rises oft-unbidden to her cheeks." Tyrel chcukles from the doorway where he bade the guards to silence on his approach. "You look well and sound sensible, sister, do you fare as well as you seem?" Tyrel is dressed in his light plate with silk above and beneath. Hung down his back is the sword of kings."

Roslin tsks her brother. "What would I do with a mountain full of sapphiers? Even I couldn't manage them all." She grins as she makes her way to her brother, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. The babe coughs and sputters spit on his armor when she leans close. "Ah, good. You've met, then." Roslin comments with a mischevious grin, turning back toward the room and walking into it again. "That will be all," The scribe is dismissed. Maids start to bring snacks and watered wine for the lady, strongwine for the man. "I wish this was an entirely happy occasion that brings you calling, brother. Have you heard at all from Logen, or the Laniveer who may have him?"

Tyrel smiles, "I saw your wedding dress, sister, you would manage the mountain, and yes, we've been introduced." He nods to the duke-to-be. "No occasion is entirely happy until one is called to Paradise, so I should not wish for this to be an entirely happy occasion. As for our brother, I have no word yet save for the report from those who were with him that indicate Logen had traitors amongst his men and was set upon by a great host. I've yet to determine how much was hyperbole to excuse themselves for losing my brother."

Once the food and drink are set and the room is clear, Roslin moves to her desk and pulls out a letter. She brings it over to her brother and places it in her hand, her other arm around the babe to keep him stable. "It's the last letter I recieved from him. The normal … drivel, for lack of a better word. I wasn't even that mean to him in my first letter." She rocks side to side, keeping the babe satisfied with the wonders of small movement. "Draventa is in Laniveer, as I understand it. Perhaps through her, or Rowena, I can get some information. I'll try. Do you think it makes me a terrible person that I am more worried for what he will tell them than how he fares?" She heaves a sigh. "It does, I shouldn't even ask that. But Gods above, I can hardly stand to think of him anymore and what he has done to this family without shaking." She looks up at her brother's face for his opinion on the matter.

My dearest sister,

I do hope by the time this reaches you that you've given birth to a healthy child and taken on the beautiful duty of becoming a mother. I know well that if you are half of the mother ours was you would be a wonderful mother in your own right. Do not wish to return to your duties as a clerk too soon. Value the short time you will have before your child grows to have their own opinions.

We've not spoken since before your wedding and you know little of what I've been through in the past months so I wonder exactly which behaviors you so disapprove of. You, my dearest sister, do not know me and have never made an attempt to get to know me, you've always assumed who I am by rumors and what others tell you. As you assume I have harsh thoughts of you. I always wished you to be happy, peaceful, and having all you ever dreamed for. You are my baby sister and I will always hope you get the happy ending. I am sorry your thoughts are harsh towards me as I see from your letter. I must be a horrible man in your mind.

I was once a childish man whose only thoughts were to himself. When I buried them all, I buried that man and yet no one has attempted to get to know the man that was left. I do not want glory. I do not want a crown. I do not want power, or riches. What I want is to have the family I have left to be happy and safe, building lives, loving but more importantly living. You are doing that. You have a life despite all and I am so very happy for it.

I fought for Mobrin on the front lines; however, the King said I was a deserter, that I should be branded for treason. This is the love of a King. I have done what he's requested. There is no one that could follow me. Many of the men have been injured in previous glories. I am alone in this request the King has given. I am a failure as a leader and proven the King correct. Hopefully, though, these raids I've been doing will bring the Kilgour's glory. I ever stay loyal to our family even if I am merely a stain.

I am the Blackhawk, the one that doesn't belong. The black mark on all your perfect lives.

May you all have pride in the work I am able to do. May you all have glory in what I can do for you. May the realm have glory for the things I can do. Be proud of your big brother, sister, for I fight for Mobrin as I always have since nothing has changed. I will always put family first. While the King wishes me dead, I am not ready to die and I will defy him in this instance to give him, you, and Mobrin glory. Be proud. Be happy.

Logen Blackhawk

Tyrel takes a moment to scan the letter, it is obvious by the speed and the movement of his eyes that he skips great swaths of the text. "It does appear to be his usual self indulgence. I wonder at his claim of you knowing little of him while he advises you to remain a child and keep from your duties…I think if we made you wait any longer to take an active roll you might actually catch fire about the throat and cheeks." He sets the paper down. "He takes odd initiatives, as I ordered him to gather men to himself and then to set off for Weston…I find it not the least unusual if he only took a day to gather men before heading to the front that he would not have a full compliment." Tyrel takes a breath, holds it, and blows it out, "In any case, he has no more knowledge of the defenses of the realm than any other commander, so I am not overly concerned. Ronan and Eoin have dramatically changed the defenses of coast and field since Logen had run of them, though I do not like the idea that the Laniveer may have him, they have not treated their prisoners well in the past or ransomed them properly."

"Elisen is their so-called Prince, as you know." Roslin says, stepping forward again. This time she moves to hand the baby to Tyrel, if he likes it or not. Meet your nephew! "And their king executed our relatives. Were it me? I would think they are going to do one of two things. They will either ask us to pay a verty heavy ransom for him, seeing as he is a Prince of the realm - though you wouldn't know it but for his name. Or they will make some grand demand that they know we will not meet and then execute him." She heaves a heavy sigh, lifting a hand to run it through her long red hair, which has been left down. "But I have one fear above all others, brother. That they will turn him. That they will convince him to change his loyalties. Read the letter and think back on the man you know that is our brother. He feels betrayed and unloved by us, our parents, and the realm. It would not take overly much to … convince him that there is honor and gain in turning against us. Convince him that you are bad for the realm, that I whisper evils in your ear. I do not trust him to remain true. However…." She bites her lower lip. "I would gladly volunteer myself to travel to Laniveer and treat for him on your behalf, once we have confirmed his wereabouts."

Tyrel takes the offered child, "Your husband would be the first Duke in Sutherland history to commit regicide if I considered that option, sister. The Laniveer have shown themselves to be little better than beasts, and one does not reason with beasts." Tyrel considers the babe for a few moments, "Besides, I have no wish to start a trend that Laniveer keep my family from their newborn children…it was distressing enough when Ciarrah was parted from the trio."

"As for Logen turning from the truth, I do not think it past him, but I also do not think it is something that would appeal to him. He places too much stock on his being maligned and misunderstood, this would be outright treachery and I do not think even his warped mind could bring him to rationalize it."

"Who else but me? I am Duchess of your most wealthy Duchy, and you know I am the most capable. Besides, it would give me the opportunity to renew my ties with Rowena. I could make a request that Prince Cayden accompany me. It would lessen the danger that the Laniveer would keep two royal children, and ignite much sentiment against him if he did." She sits down, straight backed as she often is when discussing serious matters. "There is no one else of appropriate rank and ability for a task like this, Tyrel. We both once thought I was destined for a foreign marriage because of my abilities as a diplomat. That was not my path, but my abilities remain." She flits her eyes to the babe. "And I have given Ronan a son. It is what Sutherland needed. Now I would do what you need." A little sigh escapes her lips as she goes for a cup of the watered wine. "I wish I had as much faith in Logen as you do, dear brother."

"I wish Logen had as much faith in himself as I do, but he is beset by his own demons. As for Laniveer, if you wish to extend the invitation for them to send delegates here, you may do so, however I will not place another of my family into their care as far too many have died already. You, my dear sister, are still thinking politically. When one intends to kill one's oponents it matters very little what they thing or how highly regarded they are, and the Laniveer have shown that they intend to kill us or die trying. You might recall that Eldwin said something to the effect of slaughtering all the Kundari…that is not the tone a man worried of his reputation will take."

Tyrel says…

"As for your duties to the duchy, you're behind Ciarrah's efforts by one and even Elisabeth has surpassed you. I should like to see a half dozen more Crawfords at least else you will have to baby this child for far too long and he will grow up soft and weak…besides, you need children to marry as well as to inherit."

"Whatever is in the water that produces twins, I have not been getting enough of it, it's true," Roslin says, though there's a flush of anger in her cheeks to something he's just said. "Once we confirm Logen's wereabouts, let me know. I will send an invitation to Laniveer for delegates and offer to host them. I have no reputation for murdering anyone - well, except that damnable prince." She chuckles at that. "But Eldwin's madness must be affecting their internal politics. We ought to make contact inside their realm, determine who maybe questioning his lack of honor and sanity. It would make things much easier to encourage his own people to rise against him." Roslin takes another long sip of wine. "As for coddling him, I would hope that might become your problem, in time. He will need to be squired somewhere, after all."

Tyrel smiles, "Ah, good, I'd feared that with the constant flush you had while carrying your child your cheeks might have lost some of their crimson, I'm glad to see it is not so." He lifts the child and inspects him, "I've no use for squires anymore, but we will find him someone suitable when the time comes. As for contacts within Laniveer we have some few, but many where exhausted and outed in recovering Ciarrah and more are terrified of the madness that sits the throne. It was my hope that we might make some inroad by speaking to the representatives of their temples, I've sent word to that effect as it is my hope they might, at least, see some sense in the matter."

Roslin smirks a little, very mischevious. "You, inroads through the temple? Have you bumped your head, dear brother?" She asks. It's a step over the line perhaps, but they are siblings and even though Tyrel is King, Roslin does not shy away from it. And it's a little payback for his own teasing. "Of course you'll need a squire. You are still a fighting man, are you not? And you will be ten years from now, will you not be? It will help keep you fit, and young." She settles back among the cuishions and offers a little shake of her head. "IN a few years I'll have given Ronan all the children he will neet, and I will be old enough to sit on your councils then. You said once you would see me as Master of Spies - does that vision still exist in your mind?"

Tyrel smiles, "I am the king, Roslin, and do not have father's wish to die upon the battlefield as that would be a failing in my mind. Such exercise as I undertake is to see to my health and my readiness to ward off such attackers as my come at me, but my place on the battlefield is no longer amongst the warriors." He shifts the babe around to consider his other side. "As for what impacts my head has sufferred…I disagree vehemently with many of the men amongst the clergy, but my faith in the gods is unshaken. I have invited the temple to send a representative to sit the council, and I will be inviting a representative from Laniveer's temple to do the same…by father's declaration they are temples within our kingdom as well."

"Do you mean to hold to it until the end?" Roslin asks, finishing her wine and setting the cup aside. She rises and moves toward her brother, reaching for Baby Robert to collect him in her arms and allow her brother to drink and eat if he desires. "Is that how this will all end, entire victory or constant war? I do not ask because I agree or disagree one way or the other. IN this, you are my King and I obey. But I am….curious."

Tyrel returns his nephew, "Eldwin's blood has not the right to rule, and his behavior is inexcusable. His line must bow and the others of Laniveer recognize their proper sovereign. Those that do will find thier lives little affected, but if they wage war upon us, then they will be cleansed from this life."

Roslin collects the babe and sits down, rocking him against her chest awhile. The baby starts squirming, but settles eventually. "Very well," she says, and brings up no more about that.

"I still think you shall need a squire, but perhaps there is another time to discuss that. There is one mor ematter I wish to ask you about." Her grin widens - she is endlessly amused. "Are you backing Hadrian Kincaid against his father? What's all this madness with a call to council?"

Tyrel says, "Hadrian strikes me in much the same was as Logen, far to interested in himself to understand the world around him. Even if it were my place to interfere in such matters I do not believe that Hadrian would do well leading his family, at least not with his current attitude and outlook. As for the call for council I was not privy to the actual message, only some of the responses to it. I await some clarity on the matter as to whether it was a session to discuss amongst themselves before the brought a matter to me, or if I am still having delays in missives to my attention." He takes a cloth from one of the guards to clean his armor from spittle and fingerprints. "On your consideration for the Master of Spies, I think you will be quite thoroughly engaged with your own works, having roads to build, mines to manage, and children to rear, but I have not striken the thought entirely from my mind."

"Don't. Or I shall hold it agianst you for all your life. You have managed to have me by your side for the rest of your life, so you had best make use of me or I will be most unhappy." She rises with the babe in her arms and leans up to kiss her brother's cheek. "Off with you now, go see to some vital business or other. I'll come and see you soon."

Tyrel laughs, "Sister, no ammount of distance could have kept you from being by my side for the rest of your life—our kingdom touches the border of every other. You are still young and overly-romantic in your notions of accomplishment. You have a great roadworks to see to that will do more for our military than a hundred ships, you have mines to manage that will see our people prosper, and you have a lineage to secure that will prevent civil unrest. Compared to that a bit of rumor mongering is insignificant, but as I do require those of devious yet trustworthy mind you will never be far from my thoughts on matters of import. However you will need to put aside your notion of traveling, you are, as you mentioned, a princess of the realm and duchess of one of my most profitable lands…those you wish to deal with must come to you."

Roslin laughs a little. "We'll see," She says, not quite giving up the issue yet. But she lets it drop and turns to leave her brother to make his escape.

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