(1866-07-02) Wine and Rescue
Wine and Rescue
Summary: Emilia and Destrian seek to rescue Jaren from a mountain of paperwork.
Date: 1866-07-02 (OOC : RP completed on 10/19/2015)
Related: None
Destrian  Emilia  Jaren  

Jaren's Study - Roseguard - Ironhold - Rivana
See scene

The tray was easily carried by Emilia as she walked down the hallway, leading Destrian along. "I am of telling of you, he is in needing of rescue. Of aye, the Champion," giving him one of her stoic looks, "you are not of knowing of the piles…of no, the mountains of parchments that of appear with of requests and of queries just in of day. " For while Emilia had handled the business of Ironhold prior to the tournament, and the Master Steward had done well in their absence, there had likely still been a number of things that Jaren himself had needed to see to upon his return. Plus well there were simply more messages and business that seemed to exist with his betrothal. "Be of sides, you have not been of having much of chance outside of meals to be of seeing, so we will be of seeing to of his rescue and of restoring of energy." A minor head tilt to the tray with the wine and array of snacks.

Inclining her head along to the guards who keep watch in the hall before Emilia pokes her head into Jaren's study, dark eyes sweeping the area, ensuring there isn't some meeting to be interrupted before she goes stepping in. Greeting her brother ever so 'formally', "Your of Excellancy, we have come at all of haste to of your recuse, from ink and of parchment. " There is just a little tugging to the corners of her lips afterwards, raising the tray a little,"Wine?"

A glance to Destrian as she inclines her head to some of the small, neat stacks of parchment on Jaren's desk,"Was I not of telling you? Bet that of one is of requests seeking after matches of Raelyn, and that one, for of Devlin." Shaking her head just a touch. She recalled some of the odd ones she had read herself.

Looking back to Jaren,"You are remembering of our wayward of fostering brother? He has been confessing to raiding of wine cellar of already, I have been much of forgiving of him of this. Was a rather of needed raiding. Of aye."


“And this one is for you.” Jaren pats a considerably smaller stack, not quite looking up from the parchment he’s reading, “Do you want to marry, Emilia? There seem to be a fair number of lesser lords who seem to believe that I would value you low enough to consider wedding you far beneath your station to houses that would stand to receive very one-sided benefit from such an arrangement.” There’s a slight tinge of disgust to his voice as as he speaks, “Oh, they’re mostly subtle about it, save for a few. But most seem to think that I could’ve stood around the Royal Court for years…been part of Lord Arturo Tracano’s household…and never picked up enough about politics to recognize it for what it is.” Jaren scowls a bit, “If I thought a single one were interested in you and not just being able to say they or their son were married to the King, I might actually bother asking you your opinion on the matter, but as it stands…” He shakes his head, scowling, pushing the pile aside as the parchment he was reading goes into yet another pile, “I’ve fought Thorns and Brodlund raiders and Tirian Barbarians and creatures that would make men wet themselves if they realized they truly existed, but I swear that paperwork will be my end.” There is, however, at least a hint of playfulness to the exasperation of his tone at that.

“Ah yes…the wayward foster brother who’s apparently been digging around dusty ruins so long he forgot that he could just ask for a bottle from the cellar and any servant here would likely bring it to him.” Jaren grins a bit towards Destrian, his tone droll, “Ah well, at least I think it’s safe to say we won’t likely run out of that Tracano Red he likes so much anytime soon.” The expression remains pleasant, but loses its’ wry edge as he notes, “But thank you both, for the break. I could use a cup, that’s for certain, and catching up with you should be a more than interesting enough diversion from all this business.” That latter directed towards Destrian.

Jaren rises from his chair, gesturing towards a sidetable for the tray before moving over to spend a moment clasping Destrian’s forearm, then adding, “Oh! Before I forget…” He reaches to the desk and picks up the small stack of papers that was denoted as inquiries about Emilia, “Do me a favor and toss these in the fire, would you?”


Destrian, his face a picture of innocence and indignation, holds up the bottle in his left hand whilst clasping his foster-brother's forearm with his right. Pulling Jaren into a 'bro-hug' for a moment, he peers over the latter's shoulder at Emilia and bobs his eyebrows at her with mirth.

"In my own defense, Your Excellency - my lady," he tells Jaren and Emilia as he makes his way to the nearest flat surface upon which to place the bottle. "'Tis a fine 1807 Tracano Red and 'twas surely calling my name. What gentleman would refuse a lady's request?" And he glances fondly at the bottle.

"Trace the threads, if you will, into the cellar - they linger still. They move in patterns of red and blue… Surely they will speak for me." Only half-joking, the Knight-Seeker's lips part in a brilliant, disarming smile - quite the contrast to Cassomir stoicism - and he motions into the hall for a servant to approach. Destrian indicates the bottle (with no drinking cups to go with it), and sends the servant off to retrieve some.

"Aye, the music of the grape…" Then he glances at the stack of papers mentioned by his foster-brother. "Versus the 'whine' of politics. Burn them, my brother? Ahhh," and he nods, glancing at Emilia as he takes a seat. "So few? Has traffic from Sanctum been so slow?" and he settles back, smirking triumphantly. Rescue complete.


There is a blink to the stack that Jaren pats and for a brief moment Emilia is certain that Jaren is surely joking on that account. But it is all to soon very clear that he is not and that stoic expression of hers takes on an edge of shock. "You are of serious?" Some hint of disbelief yet there, actual inquiries after her? Emilia knew well the lack of interest that had long existed about her, just what the Court thought of her…least when it came to these matters. "I am of knowing they are not of interested in of me, but of you. If it were of purpose for our of House, for of gain…" she gives a shake of her head. She would do her duty, if that were the case. She was a daughter of House Cassomir. "Of no, Jaren, I am not of wishing to marry…especially not to such of false things," her hand motioning to the small pile of parchments. "I am of content….of happy enough…with my situation as of it is. There is already much for me to be focusing upon and aiding of with," there is a faint tugging to the corners of her lips,"though only so much of paperwork that I can be of helping of with."

The corners of her lips tug upwards as the two men, her brothers greet each other. The tray being placed properly as Destrian waxes on about his new lady love…that fine bottle of wine. "I am much of sure, it would have been poor of form to not answer of her call, such a siren as it is of being."

There is a nod about at the questioning of seeing the parchments burnt,"Of best of really, of certainly before Raelyn has chance to be of seeing, she might try to string of someone up." Especially with the reaction some managed to get from Jaren! The One only knows what Raelyn might try to do!


“Sanctum is quiet. They have too many of their own problems to deal with following Lucien’s treachery.” Jaren replies to Destrian, his expression shifting from mild amusement to an equally-mild frown, “Even Sirrah writes less frequently than normal, though I know she is working to keep the Order away from the infighting as much as possible. She hasn’t said much, but…” Jaren shakes his head slightly as he moves back to sit behind the desk, “Sanctum will likely be quiet for some time still to come. I’m still passing the Seekers’ messages on, but she has informed me that I need not seek her approval to take action against any threats they uncover.” He sighs, “So we’re off the leash, so to speak. Thankfully nothing of late has proven to be anything more than mundane once investigated. It did help us ferret out a few remaining pockets of Thorn Insurgents, though.”

Jaren turns his attention to Emilia and smirks, nodding in agreement, “It would be inconvenient to have random Lords perishing to mysterious arrow attacks. Or being set upon and beaten within an inch of their lives by groups of women warriors in the night.” His smile grows more genuine and less sardonic, “Though if you change your mind on that marriage business. Do let me know…or Raelyn, when the time comes. Not that there’s any rush nor pressing need. Devlin will probably need tending to first, and between my own marriage and the possibility of a Greycen tie for Raelyn, our house will be well-situated in terms of alliance.”
Jaren leans back in his chair, “But this talk is veering dangerously close to “still working” so I suppose I’ll put an end to that line of conversation.” He smiles back towards Destrian, “So…With the imminent threat of peace looming, have you given any thought to where you might range next? Or will you stay a while in Ironhold this time? You know you’re always welcome here, and I don’t imagine that will change much once Raelyn is Viscountess.”


Once drinks have been poured, Destrian again sits back - wine-glass in hand - and remains quiet whilst his foster brother and sister talk, enjoying the taste of his drink. At Jaren's question, he shifts his position to hook an ankle over his knee and mouth-shrugs in thought.

"Peace, my brother, is a threat methinks I can survive," he replies informally but with a slow nod to the other man, and a glance at Emilia. "'Tis a tough one, to be sure…" A moment later and the Knight-Seeker shrugs his shoulders, dropping the humour for a second. "Ere long I will have to take what I've found to Sanctum - but unless there are letters in that pile ordering my imminent departure… I should like to remain awhile."

He glances again at Emilia and sips more wine.

"So much to see - only one pair of eyes. So much to draw - and only one pair of hands." Then he shifts his attention back to Jaren. "What of you, Jaren? The colour of so much 'work' only suits you half the time; the red fades behind the desk when it should burn by silver's shine…" Destrian's voice trails off for a few moments while he drinks more wine, smacking his lips quietly in appreciation of the flavour.

"You know me - my thoughts are seldom far from the next journey, and I would that you could join me." And he gives Emilia a wry look. "At least if I encounter 'mysterious arrow attacks' I'm allowed to shoot back."


"I am of imagining the Sirrah is of having her hands much of full, more of so for Lucien’s treachery. " Not that Sirrah was ever an idle woman. "Of imagine she has little of down time or much time at of all in having to be of dealing with all of the fallout." Some thought in it all causes a hint of a frown to actually appear briefly on Emilia's lips, though it is soon enough fading.

Her eyes drifting to that batch of letters merrily burning away in the fireplace. "Of aye, it would be much of inconvenient and being of troublesome if such were occurring to of Lords. " Drawing her gaze from the fire and looking to her brother,"But surely it will not be of happening….and I will be of sure to be letting of Raelyn of know if I am ever of changing my thoughts about of such." Since truly….Jaren will soon be married and be busy being King. "But of aye, Devlin and some of cousins need of sorting of anyways. " And likely be preferred over Emilia in the grand scheme. There is a little tug at the corners of her lips,"But of truly, I am of content with of how things are being for me. ". A side glance towards Destrian, " And of aye, you get to shoot of back during of mysterious attacks of arrows."

A sip of wine is taken as Emilia settles more fully within her own chair. Following the conversation as talk of peace and plans is undertaken. "Of truly, you must stay for awhile, Destrian. You have only just been of returning, surely your thoughts are not seeking of the color of adventure so of soon again?"


“Days of high adventure are likely behind me, and I won’t be missing them overmuch.” Jaren replies to Destrian, taking his own gulp of wine and adding, “I’ll have an entirely different, and likely larger set of problems to deal with soon. Lyssa might make it clear that she’s the queen, but she’s made it equally clear that she doesn’t plan on me being purely a decoration, a bedwarmer, and a glorified bodyguard.”

Jaren pauses a moment and adds, “Sirrah tends to agree, in the sense that I’ll likely not be undertaking any hunts myself save at great need…” He glances then towards Emilia, briefly but meaningfully before adding, “Or personal involvement.” He doesn’t linger on the subject though, “Well, take your rest in Ironhold for a bit and let Sanctum sort itself out. Given the circumstances I don’t have the impression Vigilants are going to be called to Sanctum very often in the days ahead.” He adds, smiling faintly, “And it’s good to have someone else that I trust around to help look after the family. Especially when I won’t be able to do it so often in the future.” And that, at least, carries a considerable note of regret to his voice. Almost guilt, really.


Destrian glances between his foster brother and sister, and cracks a smile: reassurance, for Jaren. Amusement, for Emilia - particularly in reference to 'shooting back' amid 'mysterious hails of arrows'. Sniffing once, the Knight-Seeker leans his head back in order to gaze ceilingward and stretches one leg out before him, letting his other foot rest on the ground by the chair-leg.

"I always knew that was coming," he remarks after a moment or three, and looks forward at Jaren again. "Your being king, brother." The son of Rosendal's voice is completely serious. "The One knows…" he goes on to say. "There is no one better suited." Destrian gives Jaren a solemn nod, and turns his head to the side just enough to look sidelong at Emilia.

"He tells me these things," the man adds with a faint trace of wry humour - a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, a subtle light gleaming in his watery-grey eyes as he glances meaningfully upward. "I will stay - I am in no hurry to leave, little Firefly, no matter the allure of adventure. Besides, there is always adventure enough - and arrows enough - here among my family. Ah, speaking of which…"

Destrian reaches into a pouch at his belt and pulls forth an arrow-head of flint - leaf-shaped, chipped, ancient from the looks of it - and tosses it happily to Emilia. "Found it in the mountains and thought of you. A story with a point, there, I would imagine, aye?"


There is just a faint wrinkle to Emilia's nose as Jaren speaks about being a bedwarmer. She might be 'better' about the match, but she doesn't need to hear about /that/ stuff regarding her big brother. Busying herself with a drink of wine for the moment. "As of if, Her of Majesty would even be of allowing you to be of undertaking of hunts." She wouldn't even let him join a tournament for fear of injury. There is just a small incline of her head at the meaningful look that comes from Jaren, even if her own look remains exceedingly stoic in turn. Even if more had become known,

Though with Destrian's mention of knowing it was coming, a brow raises just a little and her dark eyes flit towards him. "If you were of knowing, could you not have been giving of some of warning of it all? Might have been of nice to.." a hand warbles about the air a little as she mockingly chastises Destrian "..of had of a chance to of prepare for of it all." The betrothal had rather brought a lot of added activity and sundry.

A mild look goes Jaren's way, "You of know he'll be of trying to of talk us into of endless of tom-of-foolery, and getting into of troubles, of right? Or just of seeing of the wine of celler being less of full." A smile is pushed to Emilia's lips, a full on one at that, even if it is well…a bit forced. It was some attempt to try and reassure Jaren with the hint of regret and guilt that were touching his tone.

"Of true, there are always plenty of arrows of being of about of here. And it will be of good to be of having you of about of again. Even if of before of long the call of adventuring will pull upon of you again." That brow raises just a hint again when Destrian reaches into that pouch, a flicker of curiosity in Emilia's eyes. As the arrow head is tossed her way, her hand flutters up into the air to effortlessly pluck the flint piece from the air. Gently turning over the leaf shaped flint as her dark eyes wander over it,"Of aye…am thinking of the same, much of a story of hidden within of it. Whispering to ease of from of it."


Jaren tilts an amused brow at Destrian, replying in a droll tone, “You knew? It would’ve been a stretch until Ironhold was elevated to a County, and even then it is only the renown attached to my name that makes the match politically palatable.” In his typical fashion, Jaren is, perhaps underselling that he was ultimately one of the very few choices that Alysande could have made that wouldn’t have gravely upset one vassal or another. At the latter bit, though, Jaren frowns, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I’m sure there are many better suited to the task of being a king. All I ever wanted to be was a good knight.” He shakes his head slightly, “But I’ve had plenty of time to realize that’s not where my path lies, and so I’ll not bemoan it further. If Rivana and Alysande need me to be a king, then a king I’ll be.”

He turns his attention to Emilia and laughs a bit, “Well, I think she’d let me go if it were truly important. Or truly personal.” He doesn’t dwell on that latter bit, but all present can likely guess what that might entail, both for good and for ill. “But it would be exceedingly undignified to have the Queen’s betrothed end up crippled in a joust, and there’s always the chance of such a thing.” He shrugs a shoulder, “Besides, it’s good that my days of tourneys have passed. Time for others to rise to the challenge and make a name for themselves. If I kept competing, I’d just be a target for everyone trying to do so. I’ve seen the old Tourney knights that fight far longer than they should…long after they stop winning. It’s not a pleasant thing to witness, particularly for the Hedge Knights.”

His demeanor grows less somber and more cheery, as he adds, “A bit of mischief and toomfoolery might do some good around here. The One knows not just Ironhold, but all of Rivana could do with a little more laughter after the past year.”


Destrian foregoes more wine and leans back in his chair, raising his hands to interlock his fingers behind his umber-maned head, and smirks a little smugly. "I know these things," he replies to Jaren's and Emilia's earlier comments, his tone light and wry. "And many other things, also. Colourful things. But the revealing of how and why must remain a mystery of the One's keeping - mysterious are His ways, you know."

The man chuckles.

"In all seriousness, my brother, the noble in you calls for allegiance - and always has. The knight in you calls for action - and always has. And the good, simple man in you calls the other two into harmony, and keeps their feet upon the ground. How could such a man /not/ be king? Perhaps that is what I mean by 'seeing this coming'?"

He shrugs his shoulders and lets out another chuckle, glancing with mischief at Emilia.

"Or perhaps 'tis that I picture you so easily with a crown upon your head… I have sketches somewhere, but in them thou art scarcely more than a year old, maybe two - possibly without trousers…"

He winks at Emilia.

"Come. Tell me more of this tomfoolery and I shall obey as my Liege-to-be wishes. Shall we invite the horses to the dining hall again? Or…was that an accident?"


A brow rises just a little and Emilia notes rather simply,”It would be quite of un-of-dignified for Sir Jaren of Cassomir to get of crippled in of the joust, as mine brother would not be of doing such of a thing.” There is a minor tugging at the corners of her lips after a beat. Some minor teasing on the matter perhaps, after all, the joust was perhaps the least dangerous of fields that Jaren had faced an opponent upon. The matter of him being allowed to partake if something was personal enough, and where paths might lie has her eyes dance between the two men before returning to the off little arrow head, her fingers turning it about as she gives it further study. And simply leaves the topics to lay where they are, least for her part in them.

Her eyes drift up a little when Destrian starts to speak about sketches of crowns and….without trousers. There is a slight blink,”Surely you are not truly of having of such of things?” Just a flicker of curiosity perhaps, he did have the range of sketches.

“The horses are of needing to have of dinner of two, they could be of invited of along. Though I am not of sure we are of having chairs for them to take to of properly.” Canting her head a little in consideration,”Might take to of trying to chew upon of the current ones and that would not be of doing at of all. “


“I can see I’m going to need to take you off of active duty for a while, Des. If you’re drawing pictures of me as an infant with a crown, I think we can safely say you need some peace and quiet.” There’s naught but bemused chiding in Jaren’s tone, as he adds after a moment, “And no horses in the dining hall. I said a little toomfoolery.” Jaren fixes the pair with a pointed gaze, though there’s no anger in it.

“I feel like there’s still so much to do before the wedding.” Jaren notes, taking another swallow of the wine, “And it isn’t that I don’t look forward to being wedded to Alysande, but I just want to make certain Ironhold is in the best condition it possibly can be when Raelyn becomes Viscountess. And yet even still, I’m going to have to do much of it from a distance, as there will be traveling and preparations and while Uncle Donal is acting as Captain of the Lances both he and Lyssa have asked that I undertake some of those duties until he’s formally named.” Jaren exhales, then smirks a bit, “I suppose a preview of the load of work to come after the wedding.”


Destrian lets out a sigh and sits forward, removing his hands from behind his head and placing them with an audible 'clap' down on his knees. "These words are turning the colour of 'work' once more, beloved brother. For shame."

The Knight-Seeker grins brilliantly, teeth flashing through his beard.

"Alas, I cannot entirely blame you; never let it be said that Destrian cannot thread some kindness through his words." He turns his head toward Emilia and the grin warms into more a smile. "The road can wait a while; I will stay. Tomfoolery away - even if only a 'little'." Bobbing his eyebrows jovially, the man stands to his feet and inclines his head to both brother and sister.

"Light be with you. Seek me in the chapel if you should need me."

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