|More Games, Less Fun|
|Summary:||In which Ser Jarod discusses his vision, and dreams, with Lord Jacsen.|
|Related Logs:||Directly follows Fun and Games; see The Future in Tea and Herbs for Jarod and Avinashi's drug deal|
|Roof Terrace — Four Eagles Tower|
|This is open to the air except for the rookery at the opposite end of the open walkway. Parapets and crenellations are about.|
|Fri Dec 02, 288|
Jarod leans against the railing overlooking the courtyard as Lady Lucienne and Miss Avinashi take their leave of the roof terrace. Eyes flitting from the now-scattering children below to the sky. Proper dark is setting in now but the moon is a gibbous very near to full and there are few clouds. It's a bright night, as nights go. "So…" He draws the word out without looking at Jacsen, as if he has no real idea of where to start. "You've known Miss Avinashi quite awhile, aye?"
Jacsen's eyes follow the departing women, both of them very fond to him in one way or another, and there is still the whisper of amusement on his lips from that episode with the water skins. It's Jarod's voice that draws him to look elsewhere, his brow climbing. "I have, yes. I've told you the tale…" he reminds his brother, easy enough.
"Aye…" Jarod says with a nod, eyeing the moon a moment longer, then looking over at his brother properly. His expression is very thoughtful, though precisely what he's thinking is hard to judge. Perhaps he's not sure himself. "Has she ever, umm, given you…stuff to smoke that makes you see…other stuff?"
Setting his cane against the parapet, Jacsen folds his arms over his front in a casual manner. "I cannot say that she has, just something for pain now and again," he remarks, his head tilting to the side. "Is that what… all of that before was about, Jarod? She gave you something like that?"
"Oh, sweet Seven, Jace, you've got to try it!" Jarod exclaims. He's very enthusiastic about his recent drug experience. "Aye, she did, and it was…bloody seven hells, I'm sure exactly what it was, but it was something. It was like a dream, only…not. It was like I was inside my head, but I was going places. It's weird up there, brother, let me tell you. I went to Dorne! And Rowenna was there, and Isolde. And Gedeon and Jaremy, I don't think you precisely get to pick the people you bring along."
"… all in your head?" Jacsen asks, his forehead crumpling together in thought as he considers his brother. "I mean… how does that even work?" That his brother is enthused over then practice there is no doubt, but Jacsen doesn't seem quite convinced despite the evangelizing. "Though it's definitely weird in your head, Jar. What happened?"
"I have no idea how it works!" Jarod exclaims, grinning. His complete ignorance of precisely what he did does not bother him at all. "I don't even know what in seven hells I took. Worked like she said it would, though. I had a vision!" He pauses a moment, like he's trying to come up with precisely how to explain it. But he just shakes his head. "It was…I don't know, exactly. Miss Avinashi said I'd not really want to talk about it all after I saw it, and that's rather the case. And I a lot of it didn't make sense. Did get me thinking, though…about a lot of things. Jaremy, for one. What my life's been these last five years, for another."
Jacsen does quite a bit to school the suspicion from his expression, and give his brother a fair shake on all this vision business. "A vision, alright, so you saw things, places, people…" He nods too when it's explained that he doesn't quite want to talk about the contents of what he saw then, and instead asks, "So what's it got you thinking, Jarod? I know it's something we've talked about, here or there, but…" The questioning, though, that's quite sincere. Reflection is something he's been pushing on Jarod for a bit now.
Jarod does appear to have been reflecting from all this, at least. He nods to Jacsen. "Aye. I know we've talked on it. I just didn't figure…I don't know. Jace, when I came home from the Trident…there were lots of things that seemed to need doing and Jaremy…I don't know what in seven hells he was doing for those years, but he wasn't paying mind to them like I thought he should. So I just started…doing them. For our lord father, for the men at arms…fuck, for the girl that was supposed to be his lady. I don't even suppose it was all about him. Made it easier on me, at first. Gave me things to focus on other than thinking on what the Rebellion had been. But in all that time I never thought…doing for others is all well and good, but I'm not sure how much of my life I've been living for me these last years."
He nods, firm and crisp, at that last. "We've all got our duties, whether it's wielding a blade for your lord, or hovering at the edges of his court," Jacsen says, "Even a brigand, they've got their duty, such as they see it. There's nothing wrong with that, having your duty and making good with it. But there still has to be room to be who you are, and that…" He lifts a shoulder. "How's it make you feel, these thoughts of yours?"
"Makes me feel like I'm one-and-twenty, and I don't know what in seven hells my life'll be." Though Jarod sounds less afraid than excited by the not knowing. "And though I would like it to include good service to my lord father, and to you…I am not ready for that to be all my life is just yet. I want more. I want something that is my own. You remember that weirwood? In the godswood at Riverrun? I've been thinking on that, too. Can't get it out of my mind." He smiles slight.
Not all of that seems to leave Jacsen entirely comfortable. Perhaps it's that part about 'would like it to include', but he's not quite saying. "Haven't forgotten it, probably the only part of Riverrun I could say I even slightly miss… What's that got to do with it?"
"That was so…beautiful," Jarod says. He doesn't sound like he thinks that's quite the right word, but it's the only one that seems to come close for him. "I don't believe in the Old Gods, Jace, don't get me wrong but…I am glad I saw that. That's a thing a man should see in his life. I figure there's a lot of things like that in the world. I think what I want, is to see a few more of them before I'm one-and-thirty."
"That so," Jacsen responds, without the enthusiasm his brother might have to him over the idea. His arms, so loosely crossed over his chest before, draw a bit tighter together now.
Jarod's expression falls some, or at least gets more focused on Jacsen. "What're you thinking on, Jace? Just say it, if you've got it to say."
Jacsen shakes his head a bit, his expression a touch uncertain, which is rare on the self-assured Young Lord. "Just not sure… where you're going with this, Jarod. Run off to see the world, is that it?"
Jarod shakes his head, chuckling. "I'm not Jaremy. I'd not just run away. Don't think that's a good way to be, either. There are duties here - the way things stand with Stonebridge and Ser Gedeon and the Naylands - that need attending to. And I would see them done, and done right. But I was thinking…it'll not be like that forever. I think I could, when things're more settled, do with a couple years away from the Roost. I think it'd help me get my head around the man I wanted to be, so I could perhaps do better for this house, and myself, when I came back to it. If you and our lord father would let me come back to it. Maybe in a year, or two, not more than that. I was thinking…I was thinking the tournament circuit might be a way to see a few things worth seeing." He sounds half-embarrassed to say it aloud, though the idea makes his eyes alight as well.
Whatever Jarod might have expected his words to do to Jacsen, they change his demeanor very little. "No, you'd tell me you're leaving, which at the end of the day makes it only slightly different for those left behind," he remarks, letting out a long breath. "It's your life, brother, and I'd not have you leashed here a moment longer than you wish to be. And there's few I'd want at my side more, but…" He glances over his shoulder, at the village below. "It will never end with them, you know. Not til the Mire is burnt to its foundation stones, and perhaps not even then. But if you wish to leave when all this Stonebridge mess is done… Then go."
"I think I need to try it, at least," Jarod says soft, turning away from Jacsen to look over the terrace. "Don't know if I'd make good on it. My lance work is rough, I'll need to train in the next year as much as anything else but…I think I might be good at it, and I think I'd enjoy it. Perhaps earn some things that were just for myself. Make the Eight before I'm twenty-five. See the flowers of the Reach, ride in the rain and wind of the Stormlands…perhaps bed myself a Dornish girl. Or perhaps I'll be broke inside of three months and come slinking back, but at least I'd have given it a go." He turns his head to look back at his brother. "Would you have me back, if I did go? I'd give up my position as Captain of the House guard, obviously, but…could I come back, if I went for a year or two?" He sounds honestly unsure.
"Better for you to ask that of the Lord of the Roost," Jacsen remarks, not turning to look back at Jarod. "The one whom you're fond of recalling gave you everything, every opportunity. Will he take you back?" He huffs out a slow breath. "You're close as a true born son to him as he can make you, Jarod, and true born sons have no opportunity to just pick up, throw down their responsibilities, and go find themselves. Want to go spend some time working in Seaguard for our liege? That's one thing, but what you're asking…" In that is, perhaps, a sliver of the truth of his discomfort sneaking out, the idea that it might be that he resents it as much as anything else.
Jarod nods to that, expression turning half-sorry, and half-sad. This wasn't the reaction he was hoping for, perhaps, but he isn't surprised by it. "I'll talk with father on it. Got a few things I want to talk with him on, in fact." He half-smiles, though the expression isn't a happy on. "You know, I never did try my hand at jousting when Jaremy was living here. I always thought for some reason…not saying I was as good as he was but…I was always afraid if I did well at it, he'd somehow take it as a slight. Love me less for it. I think…I do a great deal of that. Denying to myself that I want things, or just not trying for them, because I'm afraid it'll somehow make those I love love me less." There's a question he doesn't quite ask in there. "…and I think that's cost me some things in my life that…well, that might've made me happy in a way that was real. No changing that now. But maybe I don't need to beggar myself to please everyone else from here on. I hope…wherever I end up, Jace, I'll always be your brother. I hope you'll always be mine."
He lifts his head and takes a look at Jarod again, and lets out a slow breath. "You shouldn't live a life that's just for pleasing others, Jar, shouldn't stop yourself from having things you love because you think someone will love you less in turn, it's true." Jacsen lets his arms unfurl, his gaze quite serious as he levels it with his brother. "But don't make the mistake of thinking that doing your /duty/ by your blood is the same as not taking up a lance for our brother's vanity, Jar. There's some things in life you do because you have to, because that's your duty. Then you fill the rest with what you want. Don't mix the two of them up, else you'll just trade having swung too far to one side for having swung too far for the other." He draws a breath. "And you'll always be my brother, Jarod. But don't forget what I said. It's Jaremy that lived the sort of life that swings too far in that direction you seem to be hungry for, and he'll always be my brother too."
"I don't think I could ever be the sort of man who lives only for himself," Jarod says, meeting his brother's eyes. "But I would like to see how it feels, to succeed or fail on my own terms, with my own blade and lance. See what I can make of it for a year or two. I hope, when it's all said and done, I can come home and serve our lord father stronger for it. Win some honors that're perhaps for the Terricks as well as me. But I do think I need to at least…try. I need to try, or it'll be a thing I always regret not doing, you know?" He takes a breath and adds, "I do wish you could come with me."
He shakes his head at that, his hand idly groping for his cane. Fingers curl with familiarity about the cap when he finds it, and Jacsen says with a certain obfuscated emotion in his voice, "Well. We don't all have the luxury of deciding when we'd like to do our duties, Jarod."
"I know, Jace," Jarod says soft. For a moment he just watches his brother. Expression looking as it often does when there's a great deal he wants to say, but he lacks the eloquence to really state as he'd like. He finally just kind of gives up attempting to mentally distill it, and reaches out to try and catch Jacsen in a rough hug.
He doesn't stop his brother, though Jacsen doesn't quite make it to returning the hug his brother gives him. "Go on," he tells Jarod, his voice thin, restrained from showing too much emotion. "You've caused enough bloody mischief for one night."
Jarod claps Jacsen's shoulder once before letting him go, stepping back and nodding. "Aye. Figure I have. I'll see you the morning. Enjoy the ball. Don't think I'll be attending. I'm not in the mood to celebrate, and I don't figure I'm obligated to be the life of the party for the amusement of others." He strides toward the stairs down on that note, though he does look over his shoulder and add, "Thanks for giving me an ear. And…sorry." Apology not for skipping the ball, probably.