(1867-02-02) Quiet Gerrell Conversations
Quiet Gerrell Conversations
Summary: Tiadora and Symon discuss her role in Rivana and their goals for his duchy.
Date: 1867-02-02
Related: None
Symon  Tiadora  

Gerrell Parlor, Sunsreach

In Dutchess' day, the Gerrell manse in Sunsreach was a sober place, full of darker hues and paintings of the saints and their holy works between suits of ancient armor. A mural of the miracle of Saint Sandoval greeted visitors in the main hallway. Tiadora has changed much of this. The sober paintings of the religious dead have been replaced with landscapes and paintings of Normont, with hawks soaring over mountain vistas and cavalry patrolling the plains. There is more color with flowers in finely cast vases. The suits of armor are still there but brightly polished. The mural remains but it appears to have been repainted in brighter shades to make it more vibrant; the souls of the ancestors brought forth include many of the recent dead in anachronistic but artistically popular styling.

The parlor reflects this newfound embrace of light and color; a new coat of paint brightens the walls above the heavy oak panels and the curtains are always drawn back. The tapestries are more vibrant in design to once more celebrate the natural beauty of Normont and the architecture of the city and cathedral. There are also -more- flowers.


Coming in from the courtyard where he has a set of targets set up, Duke Symon Gerrell swings his handcannon to his hip in its holster. He'd be cleaning it soon, having spent a fair bit of time at practice with it.

A well-trained serving girl is immediately on hand to bring the Duke a cup of wine— the previous duke and duchess expected such immediate attention when they were in the city. Symon is a bit more relaxed, though the servants still haven't quite figured out how to take him.

"Thank you, thank you," he grins merrily at the girl, taking the cup. "Just what I needed… flashpowder gives a terrible thirst."

"Are you done? Can I unplug my ears now?" Tia looks up from her reading and offers a small nervous smile. "Those things scare me. Aren't you afraid it'll explode in your hand? Or when you're wearing it? I don't want you to explode."

"I'm done for today, yes," Symon chuckles. "I don't want to embarrass myself at the Venderos tournament, after all, Tia. It would be bad form in front of my soon to be goodfather."

Tiadora brightens. "Oh! Will he be there? Will your betrothed? I want to meet her!" She motions for him to sit with her. "What's she like? Does she know what you look like? Have you seen a painting of her?" Full of eager happy questions.

"Of course he'll be there… he's the ruler of Venderos, after all," Symon grins at her, dropping into the offered seat. "And…" he looks almost abashed for a second or two, "Dora and I have… met. She's… ah, very passionate. And smart." He tilts his head. "She appreciates artwork, so don't worry, Tia, I'm sure she'll adore you. She's around your age, actually. A very good woman, progressive and brilliant. A perfect duchess for me. She'll love our people as I do and help me bring Normont up to the way it should be to compete on the same level as the other duchies." He frowns. "We won't be the backwoods neutral folk anymore, Tia. We can't."

His little sister listens to all this with a shining smile, her cheeks dimpled. But as he turns the conversation more serious the smile fades. "I know. I'm trying my best to meet people and make friends. I'm going to the hunt with my friends. I figure it will be nice to see some of the other lands in Rivana and socialize more. I'm just afraid I'll look stupid trying to hunt around the Cassomirs. They're so good at it- archery. And horses." She folds her hands in her lap and starts fiddling with the prayer beads she still wears.

"I may go on the hunt as well," and he grimaces. "We'll see. And don't be frightened, I am sure they will understand Mother didn't let you hunt as a child. It's part of your education that's lacking… like parts of my own are remiss." He shrugs. "You'll do well enough and perhaps you'll learn something. I'm more interested in hawking… I may arrange for an outing after the hunt, perhaps, for those of us more inclined to those endeavors."

Tia says, "That's a good idea. It's a nice way to show what we're known for- outside religious zealotry." Her smile is brief but amused. "Speaking of, has anyone started causing problems over the Faegate? I mean, it's on holy ground, if they're afraid of demons it's going to be safe there, right?"

"There have been a few protests," Symon replies dismissively. "A few old noblemen upset I've made the others opened for business again, a few god-botherers insistent the faegate we're unearthing is a direct pathway to demons and monsters." He snorts. "I listen, I nod and smile, and then I tell them I am opening the damn thing anyway. After its unearthed and we're connected to the world again, I'm sure the worrying will cease."

Tiadora chews her lip a moment before asking, "Could I… host a kind of… cultural night? A food festival. When it's open, we bring chefs and cooks and street-carts from all over and have a big free 'taste it and see' party for the people. Free beers from everywhere, wine-tastings. Expose -them- to the world and maybe they will enjoy it." She looks a bit guilty as she says, "I mean, I've found I adore seafood. Shrimp, steamed clams…"

Symon considers the thought. "Perhaps…" he muses. "I don't see how it can hurt. We'll have to see when it would be advisable to plan it for… the gate's not quite unearthed yet after all."

"I know," Tia replies, eyes rolling as a teenager is wont to do. "But it was an idea, and I want to help. I mean, there's not much more I can do… other than making more friends and getting people to know we're not stupid backward barbarians."

"It's definitely one I'll consider. You'd have to take the faegates home after they are opened so we can host it if you want to be the head of the party, little sister." Symon musses her hair. "And you're doing well here, out of Rhea's claws. If you do come home it may only be for a short time."

Tiadora admits begrudgingly, "I was mad at you, you know. I thought you were abandoning me here." She folds her arms over her broad chest and huffs as he ruffles her dark hair. "I understand now, though. Aidric can only do so much to represent us. I'm doing well, though?" She looks up at him for approval. "I mean, I want to be sure what I'm doing is good for us; for you."

"I'm head of the house now," Symon laughs. "If I were to send you to Alhazred I'd expect you to bear it in good will. But no, you're doing a fine job here, reminding folk that we do exist and are part of Her Majesty's court." He sighs. "I may have better instructions for you later, but that would require me knowing what they are. I feel like a juggling mummer, Tia, keeping a dozen balls in the air. I only pray I do not drop any of them… or all of them."

Tiadora's eyes widen at the thought of Alhazred but she calms herself, knowing he's joking. Hoping he's joking. "Which is why I ask. I know what's at stake here. More than your seat. The Queen sees me at court, with Clara, with Emilia… she saw the beautiful book Aidric and I made for her… I just want her to know we're not like them. That we're not corrupt and evil and." Her words grow more passionate towards the end until she bursts into tears, sobbing a little.

Symon pulls her into a hug. "There, there, little sis. And you're doing a perfect job at it, better than I could do." And far better than Rhea or Aaron, Rhea's puppet.

"I'm just scared," Tia confesses in a tiny voice. "I don't want to mess anything up. I know you won't be mad at me like Mother was if I do, but there's more at risk if I do something stupid or offend someone."

"You won't screw anything up, and largely because you do think about the consequences." Symon pulls back and sighs. "You're doing fine. And you'll continue to do so. If I didn't have faith in that I'd bring you home and send out some of Cousin Paul's kids in your stead." He pauses. "But if it gets too much for you, I can do just that."

Tiadora pulls a handkerchief out from her sleeve and wipes her face a little as she calms down. "I'm… okay for now. The wedding was hard but things are better now. People are used to me and don't stare much anymore. A-and I have Clara to give them mean looks when they do." That gets a smile out of her. "I like my friends. I'm glad I got to meet them. I'm excited to see Emilia's home. Even if - yes- I'll likely look stupid on the hunt."

"Friends with a princess and the sister of the king," Symon grins. "See, your politics are better than you give yourself credit for."

Tiadora adds, "And the Viscountess. Raelyn is nice to me too. I guess it's why I'm anxious." She smiles at that as she admits to it. "Is there… anything you want me to do while we're there? I mean, like… talk to people? Be social, the usual?"

Symon nods. "Just that and stay safe. Hunts can be dangerous." He chuckles. "And be prepared to tell me all about it if I am not able to attend."

There's a nod and another reluctant smile. "I can do that. I've got my bow and my riding things, and I guess I could go and practice a little before we go. I'm just feeling a little dizzy- I've been skipping meals again before I go through the gates."

"At least you can just ride up to Ironhold— it's not too far away from Sunsreach." Symon smiles. "So you won't have to worry about such precautions.

Tiadora ohs. "Well!" She grins at that. "My choices are taking a gate and being entirely not sure if something evil will go wrong with it or riding a horse. Hmmm." She giggles at that. "I think I need to brush up my geography more. We have maps, yes? Maybe I should start reading them."

He laughs. "I'll be sure to have the maps sent to you so you can study," he says, then rises. "But if you'll excuse me, Tia, I've got some things to do. I'll see you at dinner tonight?"

Tiadora nods as she stands as well. She grabs his arm to steady herself. "Yes, dinner sounds lovely," she replies with a weak smile. "I love you. Together, we are strong. And I just don't mean it in the sense of the Faith, Symon," she says quietly.

"I know," Symon replies with a lopsided grin. "Go and do whatever it is you do to have fun. Dinner will be at sunset." And with that, and a fond kiss to her forehead, he slips off towards the study and the work that awaits him.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License