Nar 20, 228: The Knighting Ceremony

The Knighting Ceremony
Summary: The war hero Symon is knighted, with many of Darfield's nobility and royalty in attendance.
OOC Date: 23/07/2013 (OOC)
Related: Several, will add links later
Callem Tyrel Symon Ciarrah Conall Solara Robben Ruthgar Caedmon Emerit Terrwyn Kyra Flynn 
Throne Room
The feature of the Throne Room of Darfield Castle that draws most eyes immediately is the magnificent throne, raised on a dais at the far end of the room. The Kilgour Family coat of arms, passed down from father to son through the centuries, occupies a place of honor above the royal throne.
A rug of purple softens the path across the white marble floor, swirling patterns picked out in glinting silver thread. To each side of the rug, stand tall silver vases of Stargazer Lilies and Irises, their heady scent drifting through the air. The cool marble walls have been draped with mingling swathes of purple and silver silk, with touches of white for smooth contrast. Set about the room, tall silver candelabras hold long purple tapers, their soft glow gleaming on the rug and silks. On the balcony above, more swathes of purple and silver silk have been draped, shimmering with a scattering of silver glitter. More glitter is dusted across the marble floor, and over the soft petals of the flowers.
Nar 20th, 228

The preparations have been made. The Throne Room shines with the rays of sun that grace it from the balcony and windows around. The scent of lilies and irises is everywhere, adding to the majestic chamber's beauty. Audiences, as always, have been made for a long part of the day. And still, now the place is clean and attended, specially for an important celebration such as this one.

The King is waiting in the Throne. The gold of his crown shines bright, and the eagle of Kilgour is drawn on his chest. The finest of his tunics is being worn, mimicking the colors of the coat of arms of his House, resting above of his seat. No words are spoken for now, but gentle nods of his head are offered to those entering, and his eyes flash fiercely as the ceremony is coming near.

Caedmon stands nearby, watching while servants add the finishing touches - shining a bit of gold here, straightening a cloth drapery there. When people begin to arrive, he shifts his attention to them, bowing and murmuring greetings in hushed tones. Even the commoners who have come receive a friendly smile and assurance that they are welcome here because this is a day of celebration for all of the kingdom.

Symon follows his way into the throne room in the company of a knight who seems to be imparting a last minute bit of advice or warning, or maybe the secret recipie for muffins: whatever it is, Symon simply nods affirmatively and keeps his mouth shut, stepping off to the side with his momentary escort. While he continues to listen, the young man's gaze is drawn around the room, fixating on the King for a moment longer than normal. He stops to bow his head, rather than raise his voice across the room, when his accompaniment finally seems to have reached the end of his advice.

Solara enters, curtseying to the King appropriately, and then making her way to a good spot for viewing the ceremony. She's not here in any official capacity, so why not come watch what happens. Her guards and maid accompany her, as they always do, silent but ever present. She pauses to smile and nod to those who acknowledge her, settling into her comfy spot to watch with a calm serenity that belies her red hair.

Dressed as well as any of the nobles in the room, yet lacking the exact regal bearing some of them boast, Kyra stands in the back of the room, a cloak around her shoulders despite the lack of need. The colors are not of any of the Houses, but the quality is fine. After hearing the announcement of the Knighting ceremony she had come to the castle to observe and see for herself what all was involved. She stands alone and tries to remain as unobtrusive as possible.

Standing beside his sister Solara, probably not too far away from Robben, is Ruthgar, already outfitted in his tourney armor of dark grey steel and a cloak in the Ruxton colors black and red. His mien slightly pensive but attentive, one single wrinkle shows between his brows as he watches the preparations for the knighting ceremony with pale grey eyes in an unmoving face. When Symon arrives, the Ruxton knight assesses him with a long stare, before he lowers his gaze shrugging lightly.

One hand resting on her snake pendant at her collar bone, Princess Emerit Moniwid stands there beside Chancellor Caedmon, fiery red curls tamed into a braid, her pale complexion contrasting nicely to her dress of dark green color, her youthful face beaming in anticipation of the knighting ceremony that is about to commence. Three guards in Moniwid colors stand close by, watching over her most attentively, while her attention is focused on the proceedings.

Tyrel stands near the dais, his arms crossed over his chest as he waits. He is wearing full on steel plate battle armor, decorated with the eagle of his family crest engraved across the chest, along with a purple cloak. He is murmuring quietly to Caedmon as he waits. Next to Tyrel is Princess Ciarrah Aberdeen, wearing a fine purple dress made of the finest materials. Also near the royal couple is Sir Roane Leask, Knight of the Rioga. He is also wearing full battle armor, with the crest of the Kilgour House.

Keeping quiet as he's present, Robben's expression seems a bit distant at the moment, as he keeps on watching and listening to the happenings now. There's a brief moment as his gaze goes to Symon as gthe man enters, before he looks back to in front of him, moving a little to stand a bit more comfortable now.

Flynn is dressed in what passes for nice clothes for him, a belted tunic with a bit of embroidery on the trim, a pair of trousers, and a pair of newish boots. He's way in the back though with everyone else who's not terribly important or noble, and he keeps quiet, watching the pomp.

The nods of greet continue to be spread as the King glances around with a constant feel of satisfaction. Battle and glory are something he appreciates above almost everything, and recognizing someone for it is one of the biggest celebrations he can think of. That said, he smiles to those gathering in the Throne Room and lets his eyes shine a little longer. His finger trails on the steel of a sword beside his seat, and after a heartbeat or two, it is taken and Callem stands up.

His left hand raises a bit to indicate the presents to remain silent for the time being.

"Symon Farrow, please come closer and kneel." he says in thunderous voice.

Solara glances at both her brothers, and then she turns her attention to Symon as it seems that he might be the center of attention. She stays quiet as she watches, her hands politely folded on her lap, and her family near enough to make her happy. She turns to the king, as he starts things off, keeping her thoughts to herself.

Being around somewhere is Conall as well. Looking to the people around. Being quiet and listening. Smiling as he hear the man being called out. Running a hand through his hair. Letting his gaze sweep over the area a bit.

Sitting in the back with the other nobles is Terrwyn. Today she is dressed in a midnight blue gown that has silver embroidery worked into a fine tracing of stars. The batter is elusive and subtly eye catching at the same time. The hem of the gown is embroidered with a twelve inch panel of craved silver colored silk; the weave depicts a tapestry of the moon in all its phases. Her modest bells sleeves offer a glimpse of her dove grey undergown. Her long blonde hair has been bound up and pinned up with silver combs.

Symon takes in a deep breath and gives the knight next to him a final nod of his head before stepping forward. Armor plating clanks loud in the silence while he walks, approaching the King and his throne. Once he reaches the first step of the dais, he stops, lowering his head as he sinks to one knee, "Your Highness. Symon Farrow, of your Army, as you requested." The first couple of words carry a faint warbling to them that is quickly stamped out by the time he gets to his name. No pressure.

While Caedmon continues to watch while people, both noble and lowly, arrive for the ceremony, he nods to the familiar ones. He smiles when the Ruxton contingent arrives. When his eyes meet Terrwyn's, he smiles to her and inclines his head in silent greeting. "Your royal highness," he greets Connal, and again for Tyrel. At some point, he lowers his head slightly toward Emerit to murmur something to her before returning his attention to the spectators gathering for the grand pageantry.

Symon Farrow. Of course the name rings a bell and Kyra straightens as she cranes her neck to look towards where the man stands in his fine armor, watching him kneel down, trying to see for herself if the face matched the one from her memory. It had been too many years and at the distance she is standing, with his back to her, she can't really tell. She glances around, noting a few other familiar faces, nodding to Flynn if he happens to glance her way, but mostly her eyes are on Symon.

Tyrel gives a big grin as he reaches down to take Ciarrah by the hand. He shifts his weight as he watches the ceremony closely. One day, he will be dropping the flat of his sword on knights shoulders in this ceremony. And, Symon Farrow is exactly the type of man he needs around him in the future, when he rules. A step closer is taken, as he watches, remaining quietly.

"Here we are to recognize Symon Farrow." the King says in firm tone. The blade in his hand rising slowly - the bastard sword he used in many battles of the past. A sword that inspired legends and songs. "The Battle of Blackbarrow was fought with blood and fire. Destruction and doom were given to our enemies, and brave warriors stood and fight to bring victory and glory. All of them have gained our eternal respect and gratitude, and the Gods will reward them as it is fitting. But here, in the lands of men, and in the lands of Mobrin, today we are here to praise a valiant warrior for his heroic deed in the battlefield."

The sword is slowly placed on one of the shoulders of the kneeling man.

"Symon Farrow. Today, in the eyes of Gods and men, and in the name of my family and Kingdom, I grant you the title of Knight that you have well earned. I grant it with the highest honor, and with it I, Callem Kilgour, King of Mobrin, extend you the Lordship of Hardin." the sword travels to be placed on the opposite shoulder.

Emerit hears the Chancellor's murmur, a smile tugging at her lips. Her hand leaving the snake pendant alone finally, she turns her head for a reply, uttered at a similarly low volume. Her attention, however, returns soon to the ceremony, when the King himself grants the title of knighthood with the required touches of the sword.

Robben listens in quiet, expression just as distant as before. However, as the kind mentions the battle, one hand absently moves to rub at his neck, without him really knowing it, it would seem. Raising an eyebrow a little as he studies Symon more carefully for now.

Conall bows his head to Caedmon. "Chancellor." He offers before focusing on what is going on. Though he does smile over to the Ruxtons as well.

Solara reaches a hand to touch Robben's arm, quietly offering support to her brother, as she is there beside him. She ducks her head as she notices Conall's regard, though she does nod her head and return a smile to Caedmon.

Terrwyn offer's Caedmon a bow of her head in acknowledgement of the greeting a soft smile graces her lips. She looks over at her other peers. When the knighting ceremony happens she becomes very formal and she watches her uncle and cousin grant the honor and the title to the man who is now a newly minted knight.

Lordship of Hardin… the words ring through the commoners head as they are said by the King, and Kyra's gaze is riveted to the knighting ceremony. Lordship of Hardin.. may as well have been a blade running her through as she watches only a moment longer before she turns and ducks out of the ceremony, drawing the hood of her cloak over her head.

Arms cross before him when Ruthgar observes the knighting, the corners of his mouth twitch a little, but into what direction, who can tell? Perhaps memories of his own knighting are occupying him at the moment. Perhaps some greater ambition. A glance towards his sister brings little change about in his demeanour. And so his gaze returns all too soon to the freshly annointed Lord of Hardin.

Flynn just remains back there with all the other little people, watching the exchange with a little interest and curiosity, but mostly keeping out of the way.

Symon remains silent and still as the King intones the honor being bestowed on him, because surely everyone in the immediate area can hear how hard his heart is beating right now. The blade touches the other shoulder, and he remains quiet, waiting for the request to rise to his feet and not about to possibly interrupt anything further the man has to say.

"Now rise," Callem adds, "Rise and join the celebration. Rise and prepare to defend your Kingdom when the time comes again. Rise with honor and pride." the King smiles and gives him a slow nod, full of respect, before stepping backwards in the Throne's direction. But he doesn't sit again.

"Now, people of Mobrin and guests in our lands. Rejoice with the celebration and the Joust that is coming. Drink in the name of the new Lord of Hardin and your Realm." and with that, the majestic sword is sheathed and Callem nods his head in farewell to the people who will join the upcoming event.

Before stepping out, Kyra looks back once more, a smile flits across her lips, but it's brief, and then she's turning away and walking out of the ceremony.

Once the king has completed the Knighting ceremony and the man rises, Ciarrah withdraws her hand from her husbands but it is only brief as she applauds the man who just gained a few new titles. Leaning in nearer to Tyrel, she whispers something softly that only he is intended to hear.

Solara claps her hands, adding her voice to those cheering for the newly minted knight. She gets to her feet, moving over to Symon and offering him a brief, "Congratulations, Sir Farrow, Lord of Harding. And thank you for your efforts." Then she takes a step back, nods her head and smiles. Her guards and maid follow, and perhaps her brothers might as well. The Ruxton lady's smile is genuine, though she then makes her way out, heading to watch the jousting.

Ciarrah whispers to Tyrel.

Symon slowly rises to his feet, keeping his voice down when he finally speaks, "Thank you, Your Majesty." The rest of his response is likely drowned out by the applause, as his attention finally drifts around to the other faces pointed his direction. There is a feast! And a tournament! And he finds himself giving Leask a look to judge a more appropriate time to follow the King's lead to the celebration.

There's a brief pause as his arm is touched, and Robben looks to Solara, offering her a brief smile. Lookng to the front again, he sees his sister moving in Symon's direction, before he offers the man a nod and a smile if he looks in his direction. Then preparing to move out of the room now, to get ready for the jousting.

Flynn joins in the applause for the new knight briefly before the young man is turning so he might slip towards the exit, trying to beat the rush to depart for the tourney.

Conall applauds a bit as well. "Congratulations." He offers with a smile. Turning to head for the joust as well t seems. Though first moving to his sister. "How are you, Ciarrah?" He asks with a smile before turning to Tyrel and bow his head to him.

A smile is offered to the new knight and Terrwyn offers a slight curtsy as well. One of her hands is placed on her stomach. "Congratulations, Sir." She has a presence and even from the back her voice can be heard. "May you the Lords and ladies of the Light protect you and guide you as you continue to serve our king and your liege lord." She waits for the other to leave first before she even attempts to.

A smile finally reaches Symon's face when Terrwyn addresses him. He offers the lady a bow of his head and murmurs, "Thank you, m'Lady. from your mouth to their ears and my heart." When he straightens back up, he starts out, following the other personages to the actual tournament and celebration, and a place to prepare.

The King smiles and nods to Terrwyn, patting her shoulder a little. "Thank you, my niece. Would you like to join us in the tourney of celebration?" his voice betrays the emotion for being present, even if only as spectator for his health state of recent days. Then, and after bowing to Symon one last time, Callem is followed by his personal guard to join the people outside.

Caedmon waits patiently for the others to leave, and then he nods to a senior servant to take command of cleaning and preparing the grand room for its next use. Then he turns to Emerit and offers, "If you wish to go to the tournament but would like an escort, I would be honored by your company, your highness."

"I might my King and Uncle." Terrwyn offers her Uncle a deep and respectful curtsy her voice is loving when she speaks to him. "I should perhaps eat first then I will join the festivities." She then rises from her curtsy and looks to the others who are departing.

Emerit inclines her head to Caedmon, moss green eyes bright and even with a touch of mischief in them. "I wish it, and I gladly accept your offer, Lord Chancellor.", she replies with a wink. "But let me fix one little thing first…" Her long-fingered hands move towards her braid and with one swift movement she removes the ribbon that holds it in place, tearing at it until it has losened, given her fiery red locks finally free. A smile is offered towards Caedmon. "Now… that's so much better.", she sighs, accepting the offered arm. And so they move out oh the Throne Room, towards the exciting adventure of watching a tourney.

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