Page 320: Faults
Summary: Roslyn and Riordan the night of returning to Stonebridge.
Date: 05/June/2012
Related Logs: All of the bandit logs.
Roslyn Riordan 
Guest Suite — Tordane Tower
A modest room but with a large high bed that is set with four posts in rich mahogany. A blue rectangular rug is angled in the center of the room. A chest for storing the visitor's goods is at the foot of the bed and a grey blue cover settles over the bed. A hearth to the right of the windows which rests between it and the bed is done over with a iron screen meant to be removed when in use. A pair of chairs rest near the window and about a small circular table set with a candle. On the same wall as the door rests a low chest of drawers, a basin for water and a few wooden mugs rest there for use.
Mon Jun 04, 289

Yesterday, after Roslyn and the others were rescued and riding back, was when her and Riordan were finally reunited. The Regent had been on his way to the caves with some of the others that had ridden out with him, riding his poor horse into a lather to find Roslyn and their cousin Jocelyn, once he realized none of the girls he had rescued were them. Since that reunion, he hardly let Roslyn out of his sight all of yesterday, except when it became clear that some of those gathered at the camp set up with supplies and healers were not going to be coming to Stonebridge. Even when he was getting his single shallow wound seen to, he insisted it be done near Roslyn, so he could be near her.

Now, that same night, they are back in Stonebridge. It's late, and Roslyn has been settled in her room. Everyone else is gone off to wherever else it is they need to be… except for Riordan, who enters the room after knocking once, and waiting for only the vaguest of replies. He's changed out of his leather armor, but that's about it. And as Roslyn would have noticed when she first caught sight of him, he looks hardly better off then the women who were captured. He's hardly eaten, and if he's slept at all, it doesn't show. His eyes are darker then ever courtesy of the shadows underneath, his skin has an unhealthy palor to it, and he has not shaved since the morning they left the Mire. More then that, there's a shakiness to his hands and his movements at times, and there's an odd glossyness to his eyes. Every now and then, he stares off at something, without realizing he is doing so. But, for all this, he seems to draw great comfort by being near Roslyn, being able to touch her. Which is why, crossing the room, he draws her into a hug, and just holds her to him, wordlessly.

Changed, fed, and tucked into bed, Roslyn still cannot sleep. Instead, she is sitting up in it when Riordan enters, her words a quiet allowance for her brother. She does not fight the hug, but neither does she respond for a long moment, though tears spill over onto her cheeks at that slight provocation. "You look like hell," she says, though she buries her face into his shirt instead of looking at him.

Riordan sits down on the edge of Roslyn's bed, and will just hold her there for however long she wants. At least it's a fresh shirt, so she's not crying into dirt and sweat. Meanwhile, he smirks, if wearily, at his sister's comment regarding his looks. "You, on the oter hand Rosie, look like a dream made flesh." And, oddly enough, he actually seems to mean it, though it might be hard to tell, given the way his voice rasps over the words. His hands running through her hair, he falls silent for a moment, before murmuring, "I'm so sorry, Rosie." He had said that, over and over, earlier, but he never really explained just what he was sorry for. Though at least some of it can likely be guessed.

"It wasn't your fault," Roslyn mumbles against his chest as the sobs subside, finally drawing back to wipe the back of her hand against her cheeks, against her eyes in fierce brushes to rid herself of the tears. "It was their fault, and only theirs. No one elses."

"But I should have…" Riordan trails off, perhaps not sure what he could have done differently to have prevented Roslyn from being kidnapped in the first place. But judging by the way he shakes his head, it's clear he is certain there is something. "And… I'm sorry we took so long. And that I wasn't there, with the others…" Even though, by now, Roslyn likely knows why he hadn't been with the party that rescued her. After all, in Rutger and Riordan's eyes at the time, there was just as much chance her or Jocelyn had been one of the four ridden out on horseback. "And… Seven, Roslyn. If something had happened…" He trails off. For once, there seems to be the hint of tears in his own eyes, something that very rarely, if ever, happens, at least not since they were small children.

Her own tears scrubbed away with the back of her hand, Roslyn shakes her head in a sharp gesture, her fingers lifting to her brother's jaw to capture it. Her hazel gaze levels on him, throat still raw from crying where she says flatly, "You took as long as you had to, and did what needed to be done. And we did as well."

Riordan's hazy and tear-filled eyes hold his sister's, gazing at her in a long moment of silence. He doesnt speak, just nods, after a long moment. After a moment, his hand moves up, to cup her cheek, and rub a thumb across it to clear the tracks made by tears. "You're not going to leave me again, anytime soon, are you?" he asks, after a moment, forcing the most fragile of smiles on his tired face, in an effort to lighten the mood.

"There are things to be done, still. You have to see to the Charltons, and I have to see to my future. The Riverlands continue on apace, despite all of this," Roslyn answers quietly, her tone gentle as she reminds her brother of his despite his words phrased lightly. "It is better that we move on."

"You can stay for a little while, at least," Riordan says, quietly, almost pleadingly, as his hand continues to stroke his sister's face. "Please Roslyn. I just got you back." And as for the point about the Charltons, that brings grimace. "That. The Seven know what I'm supposed to do about that mess. I doubt they'll try something, especially since the Lady Alys is now a guest of the Tower." Not that Riordan would willingly harm his good friend's sister, but not everyone would know that. "More then likely, they're just trying to provoke me to doing something stupid to play in their favor." He shakes his head, however, continuing to murmur musingly, "How Ser Aleister could remain in Stonebridge to play at a political ploy while his wife remained captive, though…"

Roslyn's smile is a strained thing, tight and tense for all that she agrees simply, "For a little while." Her expression shows a good deal of sympathy at the subject of Cherise, nodding quietly. She adds, "But you have heard the rumors of them. With their marriage."

"And just so we're clear, a little while is more then a few days," Riordan says, quietly, giving his sister a look. He clearly wants her to at least rest and recover before she even thinks about traveling - and there's the already spoken of selfishness on his part, simply wanting her nearby as much as possible. As to the rest, Riordan simply grimaces. After a moment, his hand moves from Roslyn's face to her hand, and he lays back on her bed. "Rumors are not necessarily truth, as we both know," he points out, quietly. "But yes, I've heard. That still doesn't excuse… Seven be good, even Anais' husband rose from his sickbed when he heard of her plight." Whatever else he may feel for Jacsen Terrick and his wife, there is just the slightest twinge of respect for the hobbled Lordling.

"I will spare what I can, Rorie, but we need this marriage," Roslyn replies quietly, a firmness to her words that hints at that underlying Nayland stubbornness. "I need this marriage. This—will not do my reputation any good, and with my age…" She shakes her head, her fingers squeezing against his briefly as a small, harsh laugh slips from her lips. "You should have heard how she spoke of him, though, while we were trapped."

"You'll get it, Roslyn," Riordan says, turning his head to look up at her. He gives her hand another squeeze, as he says, "If it comes to it, include my armor… Jaremy's armor as the dowry. I'll have the harpy ornamentations removed, and I've the eagle helm tucked away somewhere." It's a big gesture, not because he loves the armor, but because it was a gift from their Lord Father, one of the biggest ones he's ever made to prove that Riordan was his favorite. Aside from the whole Stonebridge thing, of course. And between the two, it's no wonder Riordan loves the armor better. Still, he shows no hesitation in the offer, wanting Roslyn to have this match. To have some semblance of happiness, and the fulfillment of duty at long last. "I'll smooth it over with father, if it comes to it." Then, he goes back to her words about Lady Charlton, asking thoughtfully, "What did she say?"

"No, we will not do that. We will have the Groves' surplus, and they are desperate for food. I am sure such as a dowry would be enough, and end up being less in coin than any real dowry would, if we do not use all of it for mine," Roslyn answers carefully, though her head shakes firmly at the offer in a silent addition to her words. No, no armor. "They will agree to the marriage, Rorie. I feel this." She pauses, her fingers smoothing over her brother's as if to iron away the wrinkles there. "It would be unfair, to talk about what was said in there. I am sorry. You know I would, in any other situation, but—."

"Just know it is there if needed," Riordan says, quietly, though he presses that matter no further for now. He's content to know that whatever she says now, she'll have plenty of options to ensure that the marriage does happen. "Is it something that would give me an edge in my dealings with her husband, or Danae?" he asks of her, continuing to look up from his prone position.

"Oh, no. It was not the Lady Charlton, but the Lady Terrick. I was speaking on her words about her husband, the one that did rise from his sickbed at hearing the news," Roslyn corrects with a hint of a smile, humor slow in gaining a hold in her expression.

"Oh!" Riordan says, confusion reigning briefly in his eyes, before it is replaced with curiousity. Even in his current state, his eyes seem a bit more intent upon his sister. "Well now you have to tell me." Cause seriously. SPILL!

"It was only that she expected her lord husband to be upset with her, despite the situation," Roslyn murmurs dismissively, her gaze dragging over Riordan in a marked study as they speak on the subject of the Terrick lady.

"Ah," Riordan says, not terribly surprised. "Perhaps this whole ordeal will actually make the man realize what he's been taking for granted until now," he says, after a moment. It seems a genuine wish, even though it's also clear he doesn't think it very likely. "Not that it should have taken him such extremes," he adds, a bit dryly. Though, truly, it has little enough force. He simply doesn't seem to have the energy to bring out much in the way of emotion right now, other then affection for his sister, and gratitude for her closeness.

"Well. Political marriages, Rorie—." But that seems to be all Roslyn has to say on the subject, her smile a light thing before she moves to tuck herself back under the covers of her bed only to turn to curl against Riordan through the weight of them. "Three days," she says, quietly, bargaining.

"Yes, yes. Stones in glass castles. I know." Riordan tucks an arm under Roslyn's head, and smiles at the closeness of her, before he closes his eyes. Despite his obvious tiredness, however, he doesn't seem like to fall asleep anytime soon. This close, the feint tremors in him will be more keenly felt by Roslyn. "Three weeks," he murmurs, in a way that says he's being generous and utterly reasonable.

"Five days, and then they shall expect me at the Roost. Father will expect me to move forward on the Terrick alliance," Roslyn murmurs, though her words are firm and pointed where she brings up the subject of their father.

"Father would support me locking you up in a tower for three months, and we both know it," Riordan murmurs, not at all swayed by her argument. And what follows is a quiet, murmured bargaining, until they finally reach a decision. Riordan, for his part, does not look best pleased. But for now, he'll simply content himself to enjoy being near his sister. After awhile, once the bargaining has been over with for some time, and the talk has faded down to intermittent idle conversation, he murmurs, "I love you, Rosie." And then, depending on her wishes, he'll let her fall to sleep, or remain there for however long she demands.

Roslyn does not seem satisfied either with agreeing to stay so long, but agreement reached, it does seem as if she will finally seek the comfort of sleep. "I love you too, Rorie," she replies, already halfway there though it comes with a true depth of affection.