|I Have Decided to Stay|
|Summary:||The nee Banefort/Mallister tensions convince Dorian to stick around at the Roost a little longer.|
|Related Logs:||Coming and Going|
|Town Square, Terrick's Roost|
|The town square of Terrick's Roost was once considered well-kept. The stone streets run right up to the building fronts around the edge and the locals have kept the spaces between free of grass and weeds that might otherwise sprung up between them, although dark streaks of stubborn soot have crawled in between the stones. There are several homes and shops located here which show the scars and cinders of the sacking of the town at Ironborn hands. The ruin of the town's Sept can also be seen from here with its ornate stone front rising above the surrounding structures just down the cobblestone road.|
|Sat Feb 09, 290|
Like the one before, the day is cold and dreary, the sky filled with grey clouds that threaten to unleash a downpour at any moment. Despite this, the square is busy with smallfolk going about their business, moving from the their various homes to the markets and back again, eager to get their business done for the day before the weather worsens. Amongst all this hubbub stands a drab looking Knight, leaning against the front of the inn with a tankard in hand. The man has a grim look about him and seems lost in thought, something obviously weighing heavily on his mind. A smirk crosses his lips after a moment and he lets out a sigh, raising the tankard to his lips and draining the remnants.
Given the weather and what it's threatening, Mortimer has his cloak about his shoulders as he heads out of the marketplace into the square. His hood is down though and so it's obvious to anyone looking that he's casting his eyes about for something, or someone perhaps. After a few moments though he evidently gives up on finding whatever it may have been for his whole frame relaxes a fraction. He turns to glance back over his shoulder and towards the busy marketplace before shaking his head slightly and continuing on out across the square at an unhurried pace.
Lowering his tankard, the dishevelled Knight casts his eyes over the square again, his gaze falling on the familiar figure of the deputy. Placing his tankard down on cobbled fence beside him, he straightens himself and begins to walk towards the man. "Master Trevelyan." he calls, his voice clear though not so loud as to draw attention from everyone in the square. "It is good to see you, might I have a word?" A smile touches his lips and, although the expression radiates familiarity and warmth, the tone is somewhat commanding.
Mortimer is no entirely unused to be hailed in the street and so simply turns his head towards the sound of the voice, scanning the crowds until it's source can be identified. Once the DeMabrey is spotted though he alters his course to bring him closer to the knight and offers a polite bow in greeting. "Good day m'Lord, here or somewhere quieter?" The second option is accompanied with a slight tilt of his head westwards, towards the tower, possibly a better option if this is something official.
Shaking his head slightly, the Knight dismisses the notion with a wave. "Actually, if you are headed towards the tower I would like to join you for the walk. I've sent Roderick for the horses and I shall be heading back to Seaguard shortly, I thought I would speak to you before I leave and all that." he says quietly, placing a hand on the other man's arm and waving towards the cobblestone path.
Mortimer hadn't been planning on heading for the tower, but since he'd just been about to start a slow patrol round the lower town it won't exactly cause any problems for him to head that way instead. Turning to start westwards and upwards he enquires, "did you manage to speak with Lord Ozric then? I'm sorry I failed to track him down for you but he hadn't said to the grooms where he was planning to ride."
"I did not, no." The Knight replies, falling in stride with the deputy. "Not to worry, my brother wished me to speak to Lord Bolland but if he and his heir are both unavailable then what can be done?" The man pauses for a moment, letting silence fall in the conversation as if reticent to bring up the next topic. He moistens his lips with his tongue and clears his throat before continuing. "You know, I've heard rumours about the town. Unpleasant, venomous ones. The smallfolk have been whispering that a rift has been forming between some of the Baneforts… and that there is some animosity between certain Baneforts and the Mallisters."
Mortimer nods as he walks before replying easily enough, "With Lord Bolland riding to answer Lord Tully's summons, it's left Lord Ozric a busy man. I am sure he would find time to speak with you though if you were to stay a little longer m'Lord. He is just adapting to having to shoulder his Lord Father's responsibilities as well as his own for a while." As the conversation ceases he seems content enough to let the younger man take his time and simply walks in silence until the matter is put forward. He doesn't immediately answer, preferring instead to take his time over how he explains the whole situation. "Your family is linked to the Baneforts?" he asks first, knowing them a Mallister vassal but not much more. "They're neither technically Baneforts any more m'Lord. Lady Anais was married to Lord Jascen, our previous Young Lord, and it was widely believed that she would marry Lord Ozric once her mourning period was done." Word about the keep is that the pair had even discussed it between themselves, but he's not about to start bringing servants gossip into this. "Yesterday though, as you saw, and I don't doubt your man heard as well, it was announced that the Young Lord is to marry Lady Nedra Mallister, sister to Ser Kamron who you met briefly. Now, he is married to Lady Saffron nee Banefort, Lady Anais' cousin." He pauses briefly to let the web of connections and relationships settle before continuing. "How relations stand between Lord Mallister and Lord Banefort I suspect that you could judge better than I, but it would seem that Lady Saffron is in a difficult position, caught as it were between her Lady Cousin and her good-sister."
Dorian pauses again, seeming to consider all this for a moment, nodding absently as his eyes remain fixed on the tower ahead. He comes to a stop and turns to face the deputy, the two of them now much farther away from the smallfolk busying about the square. "The de Mabreys fought with the Baneforts during the Greyjoy rebellion and our ships are pledged to them in times of war. Although we are bannermen of the Mallisters, our ties the the Baneforts are strong, so much so that my brother Drystan is tasked with guardianship of Anais' sister, Shayla." Raising a hand to rub his rough chin, a humourless smirk comes across the man's face. "This is disappointing… do you know who made the match between Lord Ozric and Lady Nedra?"
Mortimer comes to a halt as the knight pauses and listens as the man explains his family's various links. He nods once to indicate that he's understood then shakes his head with a wry smile at the questions. "Such things are well above me m'Lord, Lord Mallister and Lord Terrick will both have approved such a match but where the idea originated I can not say."
"Very well. I would ask one more thing of you, Master Trevelyan. Would you see fit to give my condolences to Lady Anais? Tell her that if there is anything I can do for her then I would be happy to oblige." he says dourly, his expression grim despite the kind words. "Lord Bolland and Lord Patrek's decisions are no doubt what is best for the realm, but sometimes these decisions cause unintended harm to those around us." Quietly, the man nods and looks back the way the two had come. "I've decided to stay another few days at the inn, if you see Roderick would you tell him to keep the horses stabled."
"I can not guarantee that I'll get a chance to speak to the Lady m'Lord, but if I should then I will indeed pass on your words. I am sure she will appreciate them," Mortimer replies with a slight nod. He chooses not to comment on the potential of harm from the Lords' decisions, not in front of a noble he doesn't know at least and instead turns to follows the man's glance back towards the inn. "I'll ensure he gets the message m'Lord," he answers, glancing back up towards the tower for a moment, "and will let them know up in the keep that you will be staying on a while longer."
"I appreciate it." he says cordially, offering a nod to the deputy. "Good day, Master Trevelyan, I've no doubt we'll run into each other again." Without pause the man turns and begins to stride in the direction of the inn. His expression carries with it a certain amount of conflict, his brow furrowed with thought. Shaking his head to himself as he descends the hill, he pays little attention to the smallfolk who dot the path and the square.