| Council of Harpies |
| Summary: | The Naylands gather to bicker at Stonebridge. |
| Date: | 02/12/288 |
| Related Logs: | Riverrun and Gedeon logs. |
| Players: |
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| Tower Hall - Tordane Tower |
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| The entrance to the tower opens into a larger common room for receiving guests. Effort has been made to bring warmth and light to the interior, as well. Rugs have been hung from the stone walls as well as placed on the floor to bring at a welcoming ambiance. There is a large table with several chairs off to the left of the door, a cooking hearth against the back wall, and a wooden staircase that leads up. An antechamber behind the stairs is where the servants live and bed down. |
| 02 December, 288 A.L. |
With Mischief night looming near, several Naylands have assembled at Stonebridge, in the common hall of Tordane Tower. A table has been prepared to recieve the noble notables, lined with chairs and prepared with refreshment. Rygar awaits at the table wearing his familiar stern expression, conversing quietly with Valda and awaiting the arrival of the others.
Isolde's hand rests easily on Ryker's arm as they enter the hall, a look given to each other and then the lady's eyes scan over the table. A lifting of her brow but her chin lofts next to gaze about the main room of the tower. She moves towards Rygar and Valda first, leading the way and dips a gracious curtsey before them, "Lady mother, good cousin.." She says to each before rising. There is still that pale look about her, but she is managing on her own this evening. "It is good to see you both."
Valda looks to those arriving and rises slowly after speaking back to Rygar a moment. She gives a cool look to her daughter and than her goodson for but a second before she lets a smile touch her lips as distant as it might be from reaching her stern gaze. "My goodson…" She intones to Ryker first and then to her daughter. "Daughter…please, seat yourselves. You are looking better than the last I had heard." She comments to Isolde before looking on to the others.
Bruce is one of the later ones to enter, not attended to by anybody but himself. He's dressed in a simple, clean pair of clothes, befitting his station as a common born knight. The normally jovial man wears a reserved, alert expression on his face.
It takes some time for Lady Rebekkah Nayland to hobble into to join the council. Leaning heavily on her ornate silver cane, and the arm of the servant girl she's chosen/roped into attending her during the council session. "Pull out my chair, dear," she instructs the girl, rather crisply, waiting at the corner of the table while the servant pulls out and readies said chair. A rose-colored cushion, which the servant had tucked under her arm, is carefully deposited on it. Rebekkah eyes the job, sits gingerly, then snorts and nods in something resembling approval. "Now, fetch me some tea. And some of those little cakes I saw in the kitchens. These things get dreadfully boring and I am not going to be left starving throughout."
Senna is already in a corner, quietly making herself useful by serving drinks, refilling empty cups, and otherwise taking care of the details.
"Lady Valda, always a pleasure," Ryker greets with transparent warmth to his goodmother's acknowledgment. He guides Isolde to a seat on the other side of the table, as the Lord of Stonebridge calls for a servant to bring a drink.
Rygar rises to his feet as decorum demands when first Isolde and Ryker, and next Rebekkah make their entrances. The appropriate short bows are made, and words of curt greeting given. But as the kitchen doors open to admit a late entrant, the stern knight frowns sharply and settles a hand upon the pommel of his sword. "You there-" he calls sharply. The one he addresses is stepping out of the kitchen with a bottle of wine and leg of mutton, wearing an elaborate mask, crafted of white wood and green leaves, a 'Green Man' sort of costume. "I gave specific orders for no masks in the Tower. Stand there," he orders with a chill voice.
"M'lords, m'ladies." Bruce greets to those present without much of a qualfiication as to who, exactly, he's talking to. Judging from where his sleepy blue eyes move, though, it's every person in the room. He stands near the door, his posture indicating some kind of discomfort and looks poised to sit down until the masked man enters. Bruce turns to face him, eyebrow quirked.
Senna is not wearing a mask. And seems to have the task of providing such a small group of nobles their drinks and snacks well in hand. Which makes the masked man all the more suspicious. Indeed, as Rygar calls out to him, she's already providing Ryker with a drink.
"Girl! Tea!" Rebekkah's reedy voice crackles, whip-like, at Senna. Though she just assumes Senna will perform this function NOW rather than paying her any further attention. Instead, she turns to eye the 'Green Man.' A snort escapes her.
Moving with Ryker to find a seat, Isolde looks then to Rebekkah and greets her softly. To Bruce she smiles. "Ser Longbough." Shifting to get comfortable, the drink brought to Ryker is given a look and the call for tea is echoed. "For me as well." She nods to Senna.
Valda moves to greet the Lady Dowager once the Lord and Lady of Stonebridge have seated themselves. A gaze is given to the masked man but she ignores it for now, approaching Rebekkah and giving her a curtsey. "Lady dowager, a pleasure to have you again." But then Valda is looking down the table at the masked man once more.
The masked merrymaker, with his wine and leg of meat answers Rygar's challenge with a laugh, though his (?) steps do stop as the Nayland knight sets his hand to swordhilt. "Fine hospitality you lot show show to your betters, hmm?" the 'Green Man' quips in return, even as the hand holding the wine bottle raises to tilt the mask back from his face. It is with a laugh, and eye-narrowing smile that Rickart Nayland, Lord of the Mire greets his, "Nephew, sit your skinny ass down, and have a drink. We've work to do!"
Rebekkah's favored treatment of tea is already ready and warming by a brazier. Sorry, Isolde, you complain less than The Hag. With a glass in Ryker's hand, Senna is already moving to fill Rebekkah's cup, a tray of tea additives in hand to deliver to order.
Bruce has not been invited to the discussion, formally. He stays afoot, back to the wall, but returns Isolde's smile and greeting with a bowed head. Still, the man looks uncomfortable.
Rebekkah pastes a doting smile on her face that is not reflected at all in her beady blue eyes when Lord Nayland 'reveals' himself. "Why Rickart, dear! A joke. How very droll! Isn't Rickart witty, everyone?" she asks the table in a rather overly sweet voice. As if the Lord of the Mire were approximately seven years old. She raises her withered hands and claps for him. Enjoying herself doing that, the tea and Valda both are only vaguely nodded at.
With Rickart's reveal, Isolde hmms and then keeps her smile, leaning in to whisper to Ryker softly. She then adds faintly, "It is good to see someone of some spirit.." She admits and then motions to Ser Bruce. "Join us, please.." She motions to a seat for him. Her hand remains on Ryker's arm lightly as she awaits her tea, as long as it may take - she may not complain but perhaps she will learn to do just that.
Valda humphs and regains her smile as the tension melts and Rickart finds himself as some form of entertainment. "Lord Nayland." she intones in greet, dipping her head before she moves to take her seat again.
Ryker sniffs into his drink at Rebekkah's mocking applause, cracking a wry grin as he takes a first sip. A small shake of his head and the prodigal Nayland leans back in his chair, giving a glance aside to Isolde with the low wortds, "This is going to be a long night."
Rickart, for his part, is either unperturbed by his mother's spite, or at least determined not to show it, if he is. "Ha! Lady Valda, you grow lovlier with each passing year. Sit, sit, all of you, sit," he invites, with a motion of his hand as he sets the leg of mutton down with a thud onto one of the platters before his seat. Belatedly, Rickart's bodyguards enter the hall, and take up positions against the wall, with short bows given to Bruce as they do so.
Rygar simply keeps his countenance stoic, nods once to the instruction to sit, and doesn't touch his drink.
Drinks for Rebekkah, drinks for Isolde. And Rickart brought his own. Senna continues to quietly make certain everyone has been provided with their choice of beverage, moving unobtrusively around the table.
Bruce follows Isolde's commnad with a quiet and polite, "M'lady." His seat is taken near Lord Ryker, who he's sworn to, with a nod to Rickart's bodyguards. He keeps silent other than his quick courtesy, for now.
Rebekkah gives her eldest son one last snort for good measure, then lifts her tea cup to her nose to sniff it. She frowns, as if the scent is not quite up to her standards. But she sips it without open complaint. So there's that going for it.
"My lord is kind, but years only? I was told months by another…" Valda jests back with that icy grin of her's and then moves to take her own seat. Sharp eyes look to her own maids. "Bring the spice warmed cider and ale in the pitchers. Keep it coming as well. Make sure Milicent is seeing to the auroch and pig. We will take the food when there is a lull." She says to an aside and then looks up to Rickart and the others, giving Ser Bruce a nod of her head.
Isolde gives a faint sigh and nods to Ryker. "I think it will be a very long evening, as you say. I shall have to make sure you stay awake." When her tea is brought at last, there is a faint thank you and she takes it up, sipping at it slowly. She looks to Bruce. "They are a prickly sort aren't they? It is good to see you." She adds as well.
Ryker turns a look, and smile aside to Bruce as his Captain of the Guard joins the table. A moment is taken for the long-absent Lord to offer a hand to his friend, and another spared to inquire after Bruce's wife and children, regardless of his father's apparent wish to be the center of attention. Isolde is answerred by a smile, and roguish wink. "Promises, promises."
Still without so much as a look aside to his mother, Lord Rickart settles into the most prominent chair in the room with a contented exhale. "Well! Suppose we ought to get down to this then, eh? Rutger should be along before long, and I've sent Ser Riordan on some business of my own, in the meantime. Which just leaves us, doesn't it?" he prompts with a fading smile as he looks around the table.
"Thank you, m'lady, you as well. I've just got my head down to work, or something like that, I suppose. Don't much notice." Bruce replies to Isolde, smiling faintly. He grasps the Lord Ryker by the forearm in a familiar manner, and replies with, "Aleks is expecting in several months, m'lord, and Tim is Tim." The latter earns a short chuckle, but it's noticeable that the Captain's usual mirth and warmth are mostly absent. He is obviously concerned with something else. His eyes dart over to Lord Rickart, and he quiets again.
Rebekkah nibbles at the snack delivered to her along with her tea, looking rather bored as Rickart begins. Or, at least, affecting an air of boredom. How much she actually intends to participate in this council is unclear. Though there's a sharpness in her blue eyes, if one were to look, that suggests she's more than paying attention.
"So, Hoster Tully has decided, in his dotage, that the Rivers whelp ought be recommended for legitimacy. Seems he feels he can pick and choose which truth he likes, since he didn't go and name Isolde here a bastard, in turn," Rickart sums up briefly. "So. All that stands between us and losing Stonebridge seems to be either King Robert's goodwill, or Gedeon Rivers up and dying." A short snort as he adds, "Seems the only Nayland who hasn't managed to make a mess of this somehow is Riordan. Which reminds me-" he looks to Ryker and Isolde. "I know Rutger is next in line, but until you two manage an heir of your own, we need it seen that Stonebridge is still ours, and with a capable line of succession. Riordan will be your heir until you manage a healthy child."
Valda looks fit to spit at the name of Gedeon Rivers. Her eyes sparkle with hatred but the Lady keeps a tight rein on her thoughts for the moment. Though her eyes do rest on Isolde and Ryker a long moment as the pitchers of ale and cider are brought out, slowly offered to those that do not have a drink, in a silent inquiry from Valda's maid. There is a slow exhale of breath and she looks to her daughter and goodson for their reply.
Even Isolde looks uncomfortable but she does not dare look away. Her eyes remain fixed on Rickart. At the Lord Nayland's request she looks to Ryker and seems uncertain of the choice at first. As Rutger is once more bypassed for inheritance, "Is it not wise that Lord Rutger should not be the one to inherit next. He has two sons."
Rebekkah's eyes get sharper when Rickart says 'or Gedeon Rivers up and dying.' There is a small, very small, nod from her at that particular note. Not that she says anything, mind. She attends to her tea. Sip, sip.
Once everyone has drinks, Senna steps back toward the wall, folding her hands in front of herself and watching the group at the table. For when their cups get low, of course.
Speaking of the Devil, Rutger strolls into the hall. Perhaps he heard the conversation so far, perhaps he hasn't. But he's chosen to pass behind Rickart's seat at the head of the table, pausing near the side of his father. "Pardon my tardiness, Lord Father. Some details needed to be attended to." There is a short pause, before he continues conversationally. "What is this I hear about my two sons?"
Ryker restrains his displeasure as best he can, but Rickart's firstborn can't resist answering, "Until the King decides, I am still Lord of Stonebridge. I should think even you would acknowledge it my place to name my own heir, Ser," he snaps indignantly. His eye goes to the newly arrived Rutger, and a measure of his ire with it. "Oh, hadn't you heard? Our father has decided you and your sons will be passed over in favor of his present favorite."
"Damnation, boy! If you think to speak for yourself, at least TRY to speak honestly!" Rickart exclaims with a bellow at Ryker, before looking to Rutger, "Sit down," he orders brusquely, his roused temper still settling. "I've made Riordan the heir to Stonebridge, until Isolde can persuade my useless bugger of a son to sire an heir of his own. You remain the second heir to the Mire, Rutger, but we need a real knight in Stonebridge."
Once the talking started, Bruce began paying very close attention. Though he knows his letters, he stops short of taking notes - but it is certain he's taking very close mental stock of the words being exchanged in this noble council, though he has not contributed as of yet. Nor has his expression changed from its original reservedness.
Isolde stiffens at Ryker's words and she lifts a hand to place heavily upon his arm. She says nothing to calm him but grips his arm a bit more tightly. "My goodfather, there is possible reason to believe that I may be with child, but the maester is yet uncertain." Looking to Ryker, there is something in her gaze that carries as well as the press of her hand to his arm. "Goodfather, Lord Rutger may be the best choice in this…if that is your wish. He has his own heirs as well, where Ser Riordan has yet to wed." Her gaze flits upward from Rickart to Rutger and then she looks down the table to those also in attendance.
There is a shift from Valda as well and she gives Rutger a nod of her head in silent greeting. BUt it is to Rygar she takes a moment to consider.
With Rutger's arrival, Senna steps away from the wall to prepare the lord's usual drink. And as if Rickart wasn't throwing around 'real knight' comments, she moves forward just enough to pass it to Rutger's hand before fading into the shadows again.
The interplay between Rickart and his sons get yet another sharp-eyed look from Rebekkah. "Hrm…" she mutters meaningfully to herself. Between nibbles on her cake.
Rutger's ire, if indeed it is so, is unreadable behind those eeriely intense yellow eyes. Less unreadable is the clenching of his jaw. "Ryker and Isolde are lord and lady of Stonebridge, father, not children. They have the right to name his own Heir." He notes to Rickart, and moves unhurriedly to take his seat, pausing only to accept the drink from Senna, seemingly with little care for all this. Once seated, he sips slowly and glances around the table, at each of the persons in attendance.
Isolde's dissent visibly annoys Rickart, but it is Rutger's dispute with his judgement that once again stirs his ire. "And if Lord Ryker wants to remain Lord of Stonebridge, and Lady Isolde doesn't want to wind up presuming on Ser fucking Gedeon Rivers' hospitality, they'll damned well both be sure to do as their overlord bids him, won't they?" The Lord of the Mire takes a drink of his cup, slamming it back down with a thud, before adding, "I can be so bloody generous when folk have the common courtesy to obey, I'll never understand why you all insist on defying me. Bah!"
Rygar's contribution to the argument is a sharp and simple, "Unless we keep Stonebridge, it will matter little who is named heir. The bastard is unlikely to respect our choices."
Rebekkah eyes Rickart during his outburst and up to his 'Bah!' Is she smirking? Yes, she is. Sip, sip.
Senna slips over to top off Rickart's drink after his outburst. Indignant drinking is always the appropriate follow-up to talking about ungrateful children.
Cooly her eyes narrow and Isolde bites quickly at her tongue. She holds to Ryker's arm still and she expels a breath, perfect. She gives Lady Valda a long look and then watches the replenishment of Rickart's drink. The lady looks to Iulia who, turning her head just so. "More tea.." she says below her breath.
Rutger finishes his sip and echoes Rickart's slamming of his own cup on the table - perhaps a hint of his hidden frustration? "How likely will King Robert grant a request to legitimize a bastard, when Stonebridge inheritance is not in question?" His gaze shifts to Isolde meaningfully. "I expect it quite unlikely. Nevertheless, the petition stands a far greater chance of success should Lady Isolde is no longer a factor. I say we need to take precautions against the bastard making an attempt on Lady Isolde's life."
Iulia's features reveal concern beneath the raised tensions while looking to no one in particular, just her Lady's cup.
"There is no legal standing for such a decision," Rygar answers Rutger's 'how likely is it' query. "In addition to the necessary precautions against infamy- which my Lords may be assured have been taken- there is the possibility that, should the King's judgment go against us, the bastard knight might be publicly named a liar, and a challenge issued."
Rickart's initial response to his nephew is a snorted, "Aye, just as there was no legal standing for supporting the Rivers' letter, was there?" He hears out the rest without comment.
Bruce frowns slightly at the tone and content which is being discussed, but, as is befitting his station, the Captain of the Guard of Stonebridge says nothing.
"Precautions may be necessary…" Isolde says and then looks to Rickart. "I am sure my goodfather would like to stay in Hag's Mire, still." It is said plainly but her attention shifts quickly away from him. She looks to Iulia and thanks her, taking the tea into hand to sip as she was before. "In any case, would it not be prudent to send a representative to King's Landing to ascertain how the King takes this position and to possibly speak on Nayland behalf?"
"It could not hurt our cause, certainly," is Rebekkah's one real contribution to the discussion around the table, a more-or-less affirmation of Isolde's suggestion about King's Landing. "If nothing else, they might learn something to our value."
Bruce signals Senna over to the table.
Senna steps away from the wall to bring a fresh drink to Bruce, her footsteps near-silent even on the stone floors.
"Thank you, Mistress Delacourt." Ser Bruce gives the woman a somewhat distracted smile, and goes back to listening to the nobles. He sips from his watered red wine.
Rutger's gaze shoots from person to person, and finally rests on Rickart, eyes narrowed. "I will go to King's Landing." He states simply, but adds in a cooler tone. "Assuming, of course, that King Robert does not dismiss out of hand a second son who is not a knight."
Looking up at Rutger's offer, Isolde clears her throat and then nods her head. "I will go as well, it may be safer anyways. And to have one of those invested in Stonebridge at King's Landing would aid Lord Rutger." The lady sets her tea aside. Valda in turn looks to the servants, as if to say the meal should be readied.
"Damnation, you can't all go," Rickart barks, nearly laughing in incredulity. Exhaling in a huff, he shakes his head. "No, my girl. You're of best use to us here, where your smallfolk can see you. And Ryker, however much he might want to run off to another capital for eight years before coming back, no. I'll not have the Lord and Lady of Stonebridge be out of sight and out of mind while Gedeon fucking Rivers prances about calling himself a Tordane." The Lord of the Mire eyes Rutger. "I might as well send Rafferdy. That boy was fool enough to run off and join the Rebellion, wouldn't hurt to finally draw some goodwill from it." Rickart huffs again and voices with a wave of one hand, "I will think on it, and decide who to send. But Rutger? Keep a bag packed." Belatedly he regards his nephew once again. "Who knows. Perhaps the whelp will stumble into a ditch some night and spare us the trouble."
"M'lord? Ser Bruce Longbough, Stonebridge Captain of Guard. What are the plans of House Nayland should Stonebridge go to Gedeon Rivers?" Bruce finally pipes up, his expression mute. The question is aimed squarely at Rickart.
Now at this, Rebekkah levels a look at her eldest son which is more attentive than the waspish glances she's deigned for him this evening. Of this, she is curious. And she will be grading him on the correctness of his answer, from her expression.
Rickart takes a swallow o his wine, while keeping an eye on Ser Bruce as he considers the answer. Setting the cup back down, he muses a moment further, before stating, "Plainly put, I'm half inclined to cart off everything worth anything, and ruin the rest, before seeing it go to the damned Terricks and their pet bastard. Mind's not made up yet, as I still expect King Robert to return the just verdict."
After hearing out his uncle's answer, Rygar raises his own level voice to note toward Rickart, "Such an action would be seen as a sign of final surrender, my Lord. A wise man does not ruin what he intends to reclaim."
"I see." Ser Bruce gives Rygar a brief contemplative look before returning his gaze to Rickart. "Not to be too bold, m'lord, but wouldn't that be an ill way to gain favour? The setback would be minimal for the House's enemies."
Rebekkah nods a little to herself. As if what Rickart said was precisely what she expected. She frowns in a disapproving sort of way, and primly eats more of her cake, shaking her head. Radiating disappointment.
Isolde does not like the response, for personal reason but she keeps that fact guarded. Refused the opportunity to go to King's Landing she still shakes her head. "If Stonebridge indeed is changed in hands…we would not be welcomed back by the people that have been trained by Lord Rygar." She gives him a look.
Rutger scoops back up the cup for another sip, passing a glance towards Isolde, then Senna, and finally Rickart again. Bruce's question, and Rickart's and Rygar's respective answers bring a quirk of a brow, but it is to Rebekkah, of all people, that the eerie-eyed Nayland turns to. "Lady grandmother, we trust you are not too tired by your journey to Stonebridge. We would be well-served by your wisdom and experience.
Rickart gives a sharp look aside to Rygar at the younger Nayland's commentary. "I'd not even be considering such, if what you'd told me of Geoffrey Tordane's testament were true, nephew." That marks the extent of his answer to Rygar, as the Lord's attention swings back to fix upon Bruce. "I am a very loyal man, Ser Longbough. To those who keep faith with me, IO am patient, generous, and forgiving. To those who break faith with me, I am terrible. So long as Stonebridge is ours, it is safe. Should it pass to my enemies, it becomes my enemy."
Rebekkah actually smiles at Rutger. How genuine her smile is, it's hard to say. She's not a woman given to genuine smiles. But she certainly likes people calling her wise. "I think it is the sign of a weak man, to destroy what he has not the strength to hold. There shall be no 'reclaiming' Stonebridge in any real fashion if we are dislodged. So. We must make every effort. Not. To. Be."
Rygar gives a cool, dispassionate look to Isolde as she complains of his effect on the populace. He doesn't spend the breath answering her, as his regard passes next to Rebekkah, when his grandmother offers her own commentary.
Rutger nods slowly to Rebekkah's words, and turns a look back at Rickart. "Wise words." He adds meaningfully, but simply. "Advice we ought take, Lord Father."
Meeting Rygar's gaze, Isolde stays quiet but she nods to Rebekkah as well. "The King may find it in him to give Stonebridge to Ser Gedeon if only because he fought for his cause. Rafferdy would be a wise choice to send, but I suggest he go with another if possible." She gives Rutger a meaningful look.
Lord Rickart snorts at Rebekkah's croaked words, before turning his eye on Rutger. "The last time I sent you to represent me, boy, Hoster Tully gave Stonebridge to the bastard," he states sharply. "But if you find the crone's advice so wise, then speak up, Rutger! How do we just. Not. Lose Stonebridge, hmm? Lets see a glimmer of that brilliance you like to boast of."
Senna watches quietly from the shadows, stepping forward every now and then to refill drinks.
"If no one in this room has the stomach for discreetly…removing the bastard from being a problem for us…" And from Rebekkah's tone, she rather thinks that's an option that should be considered. "…then we discredit him. In whatever we can, publicly. What is known of this boy, apart from the fact that he brings very convenient and likely forged documents with him to our lands after fleeing the fields of the Rebellion so many years ago? Set the winds of rumor against him, make him a 'lord'…" She snorts. "…the people of these lands - and those who are lords over us - would not see rule here. I doubt it will be hard. He cannot be a man of sterling reputation. That would be my first step. It would be, at least I think, slightly more productive than sitting on our hands while we await the infinite wisdom of Robert Baratheon."
Bruce listens quietly, his question answered for the moment.
Rutger leans back in his seat. "I was not aware Hoster Tully did such a thing, Lord Father." He's still sipping from his cup, looking serene as ever, though his words would suggest otherwise. "If he did, why are we gathered here?" He replies to Rickart just as sharply, but immediately moves past it. The cup is lowered, his gaze moves to Rebekkah as the old hag speaks, then back to the others. "Just so. As well, I already noted that Gedeon Rivers knows his chance of being legitimized is remote while Lady Isolde is the recognized heir. He would be a fool to allow the petition to proceed as it stands. If we were to catch and expose him making an attempt on Isolde's well-being, he will lose all credibility."
Senna leans down to refill Rutger's drink, a fall of hair obscuring her features for just a moment.
"Don't try and split hairs with me," Rickart scoffs at Rutger's initial defense. "You had a chance to end this at Riverrun, and you failed. Outmaneuvered by a crippled boy and an unknown bastard." And then its on to his mother. "Yes, I'll stake the future of Stonebridge on what amounts to fishwives' gossip. I should have expected as much." Again, his hand thuds onto the table, knocking over a nearby cup which was mercifully almost empty already. "None of you want me to step in and solve this," he notes, sweeping a leveled finger at those assembled around the table. "So fix it before I have to. Take care of this. And do it quickly."
Green eyes look to Rutger and then to her husband with the voicing of that. She clenches her teeth a moment and then sighs. Rickart's voicing makes her look to him. But it is Lady Valda who lifts her head and gives Rutger a long look as well.
There is not much to be said, the men are at odds, in almost everything and the look Isolde has on her face with the thought that she is to be used as a pawn again against Gedeon does not sit well. But her hand reaches for Ryker's arm again and keeps her silence.
"I have given my fishwife's council, Rickart," Rebekkah retorts to her son coolly. "If my progeny wish to use or ignore it, it matters little to me. I am an old woman. The future of this family is yours. Whatever you make of it." She looks around the table, as if very unsure what will be made of it.
"Failed? I hardly think so." Rutger's yellow eyes narrow at Rickart. "I have gained much measure of Jacsen Terrick's character in this." He pauses only to turn to Senna, and appears to have a quiet exchange with the woman before rising to his feet. "If it pleases my Lord Father, I will gladly travel to King's Landing to present House Nayland's case. If not, I am certain Riordan is more than capable of such a task, since he /is/ a knight and heir behind Ryker. I await your decision." Another pause. "If there is nothing else, I suggest we retire for now."
"Get out, then! I've had an earful of your whining," Rickart snaps to Rutger's offered answer. "All of you, be about your own damned business." With that brusque dismissal given, Rickart rises to his own feet, not waiting for the others to obey decorum and rise as well, before stalking toward the stairs and out of the common hall.
Bruce shakes his head at whatever he perceives as going on.
Senna waits until Rickart has left to murmur something else to Rutger, a significant look in her eyes. But then she's about cleaning up the table, once more fading into the background.
Rebekkah might smile, just a touch, at the abrupt dismissal from Rickart. She gets to her feet with a grunt and heavy use of her cane, calling sharply for her servant girl to return and assist her.
Rutger nods just once at Senna, and steps away from the table. "It is true, Senna. If we may speak in private afterwards about it, it would please me." And with that, he, too, steps out of the room.
Bruce arches an eyebrow at Rutger's comment to Senna, though he does not comment on it. That's been the theme the whole night, essentially - Bruce has said a bare minimum, preferring to remain an observer.
Rygar does rise, frowning, to his feet, despite the terse nature of the dismissal as his liege and the ladies present stand. The stern knight offers a short bow to Valda, and another to Isolde and Ryker, before silently taking his own leave.
"Of course, my lord," Senna bobs to Rutger's request, gaze downcast as she clears the table. There's a brief flicker of a smile for Bruce's look, but no further words from the woman.
