|Lecture By Proxy|
|Summary:||Alek's (lack of) manners sends Gedeon to his door.|
|Related Logs:||In the Entrance Hall, Sers and Assholes, After the Brawl|
|Guest Room — Rockcliff Inn|
|The Guest Rooms at the Rockcliff are slightly more than modest. Each has a spacious bed with clean sheets and some generic artwork hung above the bed. Each room has a vase of fresh flowers replaced daily as well as a water basin and mirror. Trunk space is provided for those staying more than a night or two and wooden pull-tab by the door operates a pully system of bells that will summon one of the women of the house to take food orders or resolve anything required. A large window overlooks to surrounding town though shutters stand ready to block out the sunlight as required.|
|16 September 288|
It's not very hard to find Ser Alek Coope once Gedeon learns he's at the Rockcliff Inn. It's just a matter of asking one of the girls which room Ser Coope has and then Gedeon finds himself before it. It's a familiar door, and there is a faintly wry smile as he knocks on it and awaits a response.
It is a whore that slips out first, dark haired Nina clutching her dress in front of her and flashing a bright smile as she sneaks past Gedeon. Alek has the decency to don pants, possibly in case another brother has come looking for a fight, the previous one already leaving a bruise etching around on eye and spreading in a fist on his ribs. His own smile is the same crooked, careless thing it always is as he butts a shoulder against the frame of the door in a lean and states wryly, "Of course he sent you. Long time, Gedeon."
"Of course he did," Gedeon agrees easily, that lazy smile returned. He takes a moment to look over the bruises and little wounds. "I saw Ser Jarod. It seems the pair of you were well matched. Hello, Alek. It's been some time."
"I did not want to bloody the boy before he had to stand attendance at his legitimately born sibling's wedding," Alek replies with some amount of affection and feigned sympathy touching his tone before he pulls away from the door to wave Gedeon inside. "Want a glass? I could find Nina again to fetch one." He pauses, a measured look cast sidelong at Gedeon as he retreats to the table to pick up his own. "What is keeping him from coming?"
"Wasn't interested in giving a lecture," Gedeon says, stepping into the room and tugging the door shut. "I'm sure Nina's worked long enough for you, I'm fine," he teases around a bemused smile. "I expect you know why I've come?"
"I can only guess at your motives, but I would never have the arrogance to think that I know your every intention," Alek answers smoothly, his own laugh catching in his throat as he sips at his wine. Grey-green eyes drag over Gedeon in a study, waiting silently.
"Your manners," Gedeon replies, padding over to drop into a chair and stretch out his legs, "need considerable improvement, if you do not wish to embarrass Anton and spoil his hopes."
As Gedeon takes the chair, Alek simply leans against the table, his wine glass dropping in front of his and twisted beneath long fingers. He questions wryly, "He could do better than a stuck-up, spoiled bitch of a lady, who may I add is simply too easy to offend. I barely said a word."
"Well, the words you barely said were apparently enough. Would you care to share them with me?" Gedeon asks, one brow lifting. "Lord Anton rather needs a noble lady to strengthen Oldstones, and Lucienne Terrick is better than most."
"I found Lady Anais to be much more entertaining. Perhaps it is not so late to prevent Anton from taking the bride away. I understand it is already the second groom, in any case," Alek replies in mock-thoughtfulness, shrugging his shoulder up in dismissal as he finishes. He takes another drink from his wine before he offers Gedeon a truthful answer. "I told her that the Rockcliff has clean whores, in case the information ever may be handy for her."
"We do want the Terricks to remain our allies, you know," Gedeon points out, sliding a hand through his pale hair. "It's not really ever a good idea to discuss whores in the presence of a noblewoman."
"You can never truly discuss anything interesting in the presence of noblewomen. Weather and horses. Don't fret, dear friend, I plan to avoid the Terricks and their noblewomen as much as possible, at least until the day of the tourney," Alek answers easily, lifting his glass in a salute of that promise.
"It might be wiser to practice civility around them," Gedeon suggests with a faint smile. "Particularly as one of them might be coming home to stay."
Brow quirking up with a silent question, the crooked smirk nevertheless lingers in Alek's lips as he answers with a noble tone, "I will be certain to show her all of the graces Oldstone possesses, and hope she isn't as boring in bed for our poor Anton." He pauses, settling his glass away before pushing to his feet. "And you may want to let our lord know where I am to be found if he has need of my sword."
"Alek," Gedeon murmurs, "This matters. The Terricks believing in Oldstones matters. This suit with the Lady Lucienne matters. There are not so many who represent Oldstones, that one poor showing can be dismissed, and we are judged on more, here, than our mettle on the field."
"None of this matters, Gedeon. Who cares what they think? Lord Anton should be above this, all this grubbing around for power and impressing the right people," Alek mutters in turn, humor sliding away as Gedeon grows serious. His own hand rakes through the stubble of his jaw, scratching skin lightly as he shakes his head. "I meant my promise, however. I will stay where the Lady cannot be offended by me and impress where I can, on the tourney field. You are much better with the rest, in any case."
"And less impressive on the tourney field, so there's the balance," Gedeon says. He presses his lips together and shakes his head. "Building a successful keep from rubble and smallfolk requires more than a clever blade, and whether or not you think that's what he should set his mind to, that's what he has set his mind to. I know you too well to think you should wish to get in the way of that. Don't sulk, Alek. And don't hide away so that first impressions can sit and rankle."
A sigh escapes only brief, his tone already giving in where Alek questions wryly, "Then what would you have of me, Gedeon? You ask and I shall do."
"Pay another visit to the Roost," Gedeon advises, "Be courteous and civil and show them the gentleman you so stubbornly tuck away. And if there is none," his lips twitch upwards, "fake it."
"I can fake anything for you, my friend," Alek replies with dry amusement, teasing soft in his words before he reclaims his glass with a snatch of curved fingers. "But it will have to wait till tomorrow."
"Tomorrow will do," Gedeon agrees, his smile more open, now. "And for your exertions, let me pay for your drinks that night." He chuckles. "And one of the girls. More than that, you are on your own, friend."
"I promise not to go out of my way to make the cost a heavy one for you," is promised easily, grey-green eyes lightening with the warmth of flickering laughter before Alek looks away.
"You were always kind to me, Alek," Gedeon allows as he pushes to a stand. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Alek's lips twitch into a smile as he invites, "Are you sure you do not wish to stay for a drink or two, Gedeon?"
"Mmmm," Gedeon muses, scratching at his jaw as he glances around the room. "Well. Just one, then."
"Then I will make sure one is fetched for you, my friend," Alek offers, finally shrugging on the loose tunic that lays at the floor of the bed to disappear to go make drinks happen.