|Complete Non Viper|
|Summary:||Jarod seeks out Lucienne with some worries. She comforts him, and allays his fears.|
|Date:||June 18, 2012|
|Related Logs:||The Eagle's Boys|
|Don't think it is sparse just because they are poor. IT IS NOT.|
Jarod had business in the Terrick camp, what with delivering Justin's gear back now that his half-brother has paid his 'ransom.' Such as it was. But he lingers after that business is done. There's a downcast look about him, even more than usual when he's chanced upon the Terrick camp. Certainly more than one would think there should be, for a recent champion of jousting. He seeks out the tents of his other siblings before he goes. Finding Jacsen occupied with something-or-other, he sees if Lucienne is in. Because you're also his second-best choice, sorry.
Lucienne is in her pavilion, having her hair brushed out by her handmaid. It's a thing she enjoys greatly, okay? "Come in," she calls out softly, and as Jarod sweeps the curtains aside to enter he will find her seated on a cushion. There's another one within, but her handmaid is kneeling on it behind her at the moment. SORRY THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR CHOOSING LULU SECOND.
"Luci…umm…" Jarod does not look entirely sober, though he's at least not falling down drunk yet. He runs a hand through his short-cropped dark hair. "Could I…do you have a moment…I was hoping you might…umm…" He's in something of a state.
Lucienne blinks a few times, taking in her brother's appearance with concern. "Jarod? Celine, fetch us some wine please." As the taller girl moves, Luci reaches around behind her to retrieve the cushion, placing it in front of her instead. "Come, sit down," she bids her brother, pointing. She has a moment, it seems.
"Thanks," Jarod mutters, proceeding to flop down on the indicated cushions in a decidedly sprawly fashion. "I was just getting things settled with Justin and he was…he got to talking about matters at the Roost lately and he said…umm…" He can't even seem to bring himself to say it straight out. "…how he is, Luci? Really? He didn't seem bad off when I saw him last but…" He babbles on like she should know who the f he means.
Celine swans over with a cup of wine for Jarod first, whilst Lucienne listens, studying the lines of his face confusedly. She holds her hand up for him to stop, so that she might ask: "Who are you talking about, Justin? He's fine?"
Jarod waves off the wine after a sniff, though he does mutter a, "Thanks" to Celine. After Lucienne acts all confused at him, he spends a few seconds blinking at her. Because she's also apparently being confusing. "Who do you think I'm talking about?" he asks her. His tone a little exasperated, as if he's being so clear, and she's just being daft. "Our father, of course. Justin told me he was ill. Sounded bad. Don't worry, Luci, I promised him I wouldn't say anything to the Naylands I just…it's all my fault, isn't it?"
Well if Jarod isn't going to drink the wine, Lucienne will. She reaches out to accept the cup meant for her brother, and takes a dainty little sip. "Lord Jerold?" She leans back, surprised by the news. "I… what did Justin say? It's not all your fault, he's grieving. I don't know why everyone expects us to just pick up and act as though nothing has happened." Now it's her turn to sound exasperated, huffing out a sigh.
"I don't expect that!" Jarod huffs, offended. And puzzled, but not quite so fretful anymore. He furrows his brow, like he's doing some serious Jarod Thinking. It always looks like so much effort. "Justin said he was ill and he…wasn't doing well, and that it was more than just grief or being rundown from his wife being dead and all his children being fuck-ups." He blinks. "Not you, Luci, I just mean the rest of us. Though I guess you being cold toward Anais and her thinking you're a pit viper isn't easy on him either, from how Justin tells it."
Lucienne's brows knit in frustration at Jarod. And then she blinks her eyes wide. "She said that to you, too? For the love of bread, is there anyone she isn't attempting to turn against me?" She draws a deep, long gulp from her cup, tilting her head back to let it drain down her throat faster. Yesssssss, wine. "Cold?? It's not my fault she expects the whole of Westeros to be best bosom friends for life with her as soon as they meet her. Just because I'm not, doesn't make me cold," snarls the Terrick girl. Then she drains the rest of her cup, and holds it out angrily for Celine to refill. Hmph. "Father's fine, he's not dying. He's sad, and things are in a bad way, and we're looking at a marriage with the Naylands of all people."
"I'm not turned against you! You're Little Luci!" Jarod exclaims, all wounded by the implication. "I mean, sometimes you aren't very nice to people, but I don't think you mean it so badly. I know you're nice deep down. Really deep. Where it's hard to see if people don't know you well. Anyhow, I don't see why you're getting mad at me, it's not as if I think you're a viper. You're a complete…" He ponders a compliment that will appease her. "…non-viper." He might not have found it. He blinks at her, green eyes wide and hopeful. "You're quite sure our father's not dying, then?"
As she often does, Lucienne just lets Jarod ramble on ramblingly. She waits for her glass to be refilled, then takes a more liesurely sip of it. "A complete non-viper?" No Jarod, that was not a satisfactory answer at all. "If he's dying," she says between sips, "He hasn't yet told me." But then… MAYBE HE WOULDN'T TELL LITTLE LUCI. OHNOES, JAROD.
"Oh." Jarod does not seem entirely heartened by that answer. But he's no longer panicking, at least. He just sits comfortably flopped on the floor of her tent. "Let me know if he is dying, will you?" The request is no longer fretfully concerned. "I wouldn't want to…well, don't suppose I'd like to end things the way they are between us now. Though if he'd not stripped me of my knightly trappings I'd not have had to leave like that so…it's not all my fault. So there." Now he's back to being proud and stubborn and wounded again, so there's that.
Lucienne sips her way through another round of Jarod-babble idly. As he concludes with his 'so there' - by the way, osm argmuent J-rod - she slacks her wrist away from herself, wine sloshing about dangerously in the cup. She sighs again, and tilts her head. Really? "Do you honestly think I wouldn't? You think you have to ask me, Jarod?" She's probably a little insulted, but mostly Lulu just sounds tired.
Jarod does not seem convinced by his awesome argument, either. He just kind of sits there slouched and deflated. "No. I…I know you would, Luci. It's just…Justin made me promise not to tell Rowenna, like I'd go running to the Naylands, or something and…I don't know."
"I wrote you," says Lucienne, looking wearily upon Jarod, then down to her wine, then back again. "I've always had your backs, all of you. I miss you, things aren't the Gods damned same, Jarod. I miss Rowenna - I miss her puns, I miss her face, I'd love her to brighten our towers in a dress or a jerkin. Nobody messes with Cookie's salt anymore. I miss that." She drowns her sorrows in another gulp of wine. "You are part of our family, the both of you. And I would tell you if our father were dying."
All of that brings a big, stupid smile to Jarod's face. Even if his eyes remain a little sad. "I miss you, too, Luci. Lady Roslyn's right kind to me, but she's not you. And Lord Riordan reminds me a bit of Jaremy but, well, it's not the same." He adds, "At least I hope it's not. Seven hells, don't think I could do that again. It's all just…I keep trying to do the right thing, but there isn't a right thing, you know?" He tilts his head at her. "You lot aren't cross at me, are you? For beating Justin in the joust." And winning awesomely.
Little Luci can at least muster a smile for that reply. She gestures at Jarod with her cup. "There's never a 'right' thing," she tells him, shaking her head. Her cheeks are starting to flush the way they always do when she's been drinking. At his last, she simply laughs. That rare tinkling sound is so unusual escaping Lucienne, and her eyes crease around the corners from the force of her smile. "Seven, no. Justin only earned his spurs a few days ago, it is a brotherly right to beat him at least the once. Makes things feel… a little more normal, don't you think?"
"I wish I'd won for the Roost," Jarod says. "Didn't feel…it feels strange, not fighting for Four Eagles, or Seagard, especially on this field. My cup is grand, though!" He grins some more. "Did you see my cup, Luci?"
"I saw your cup," says Lucienne, grinning from ear to ear. It must look… straight out of their childhood, to Jarod. "I watched the whole thing. You rode so well, Jarod. I couldn't have been prouder." Except if he'd been riding for her, but she doesn't say that. "Are you sure you don't want some wine?"
Jarod shakes his head. "No, I'm all right. Rowenna doesn't like the smell of wine. Doesn't mind beer, though." Which reminds him. He grunts and stands. "Should be getting back, come to it. Thanks, Luci. I'm glad you saw my cup. And that our father isn't dying." He tries to give her a brutish hug, on that note.
Luci stands too, because she's polite like that. Not viperious at all! A complete non-viper. She sets her cup down first, though, so she has two arms free to wrap about Jarod at will. "I'll write you more often," she promises, pressing her cheek tight to his chest for a moment and squeeeeeezing her brother tight. "And maybe… maybe you could tell Rowenna that I miss her. Things were so forced at the Sept reopening, and I… I wish it wasn't like that."
"I'll tell her. I'll write you more often, too, about things that're finer than the mess with the Charltons. I don't care that you're a viper, Luci, I love you anyhow." Well, Jarod does mean it. Such as it is. He musses her hair roughly before letting her go. With that, he will wander out the way he came.
"I'm not a viper," Lucienne insists peevishly, as Jarod makes his way out. She doesn't even attempt to fix her hair - that's Celine's job. Or Belle's, but we all know Belle is off being all glowy and full of baby with Hardwicke. BYE JAROD.