|Rainy Day Siblings|
|Summary:||Riordan confronts Roslyn with disapproval!|
|Related Logs:||A whole lot of stuff!|
|Roslyn's Tent - The Twins|
|The tent given over to the use of Lady Roslyn Nayland, set up among the other Nayland Family tents.|
|Fri May 18, 289|
For the first time in a long time, Riordan is upset with Roslyn. No, more then that. When he came to her that morning and asked for his sister's favor for when he rode in the joust, and found out she had given it to Kittridge Groves, he had been upset. That alone could have been resolved there and then. But then he found out about his sister's conversation with their brother Rutger, and she told him how she had suggested to their brother that he take over the negotiations with the Terricks, regarding the ending of the feud and the possible alliances between the families. There had been, surprisingly, only brief yelling. That in itself was telling. Riordan yelled about Kittridge. But about Rutger, he simply threw the crockery he had been holding, yelled 'WHAT!?!' and then fell silent. It was the look on his face though, just before he simply turned around and walked out, that was the biggest indicator about how big a rift had been caused - the look of hurt and betrayal had, quite possibly, never before had cause to be directed at Roslyn until now.
And now, on that same day, with the rains falling in, she will come face to face with her brother once more, unknowing and unprepared - for, as she returns to her tent, Roslyn will find Riordan there, sitting inside it, in the dark, waiting and alone. He has changed into stout wool clothing to keep himself warm and dry, and there is a rain cloak around his shoulders for the same reason. He sits there, on a camp stool, waiting patiently, eyes glued to the opening of the tent. When she enters, he will rise, but his eyes never leave her face - and his expression shows very little. Perhaps largely due to the gloom caused by no light in here, and an overcast sky outside.
Soaked again in the time it takes to be escorted from one encampment to the other, the rains have also washed away lingering emotions and smiles. In the shock of cold water, it has left Roslyn to gather herself into a more subdued, usual neutrality for all that it slips when she enters her tent alone to spot her brother. Concern, guilt, relief. They all show across her expression in varying degrees, for all that she first turns to strip the sodden blanket from her shoulders and fold it carefully. "I kept from the rain as much as possible," she offers, quietly. As if that little care will make any difference now.
Riordan's eyes go to the blanket after a moment as Roslyn removes it, the first time his eyes leave her face, and his lips thin into a cold line. "Who was that who brought you here?" he asks, neutrally. "Not your maid, I think," he adds, a far too casual observation, for the look he pins her with as his eyes return to his sister's face.
"Not mine, no. One of the Groves' servants," Roslyn replies simply, straightening under that regard with a steady breath drawn in as if to steel her spine. Her gaze lifts to his under the fan of dark, wet lashes, and though she shivers slightly, she does not move. "I did not mean to lose mine. The rain was unexpected, Riordan."
"No, just a happy coincidence, I'm sure," Riordan says. He continues to study his sister, before he finally just asks, directly, "How far did it go?" The question is quietly asked, not added to by further explanation, because they both know what they are talking about, and he clearly expects her to be honest with him, even though he's not likely to approve of the answer.
Bound by another promise, it is clear that Roslyn is torn at the question, but she only answers, "It is nothing you need worry about. I am not a child." With a rustle of damp skirts, she moves closer to her brother with a knit of brows with lingering concern, her lower lip caught briefly between her teeth as she studies him. "I would not have said it if it were not true."
The hurt and betrayal that Riordan gave Roslyn before he left her last now appears again, but perhaps stronger. "You would deny me the truth, after everything we have shared? Now? FOR HIM!?!" Increduality and disbelief share reign with the other emotions on his face, and though his voice rises, it is nowhere near the normal extend of anger or rage. In fact, Roslyn will know this to be a bad sign - typically, his loud anger is something that burns hot and fast. This, though, is something rarely, if ever, seen before. And he has quite likely never had cause to direct it at his beloved sister and confidedant before.
"It was nothing, Riordan," Roslyn repeats, though her words are softer, more of an entreaty to her brother than an answer as her breath hitches on the words. It is likely more a reaction to her brother's than anything else though she tries to steady herself with fists curling in her skirts. "It was nothing. Only a kiss, but I had given my word to keep such secret."
"And you would give a promise knowing that you would try to keep such from me? Over a kiss?" Whether Riordan's disbelief spawns from what she did, or if he thinks it might be more then a kiss, is perhaps hard to tell, with the wide variety of motions that run the gauntlet across his expression. "Us then them. Was that not our oath? Over any who came after? Is a single kiss so worth the breaking of that? Seven hells Roslyn, I lost my heart and bore such shame, and yet I did not hesitate to share all with you. Not once. And now you treat me thus? You keep secrets, you repeat my mistakes, and you underestimate me as you have never done before." His eyes hold her, searching them, as he asks, quietly, "What has happened to us?"
"I gave the promise before I knew what it was, and perhaps I did not think you would ask, Riordan," Roslyn admits, only that in the face of the tirade as she sinks onto her cot, not attempting to keep straight and still anymore under her brother's regard. "Am I not allowed to find my own bit of happiness, before I am married off to whoever is best for them? I only wanted a moment of it; I was never going to do anything that would—." Her eyes slide closed, face burying in her hands where she leans forward into them rather than looking up at Riordan. "You are seeing betrayal where there is none, Rorie."
"I see betrayel in you keeping secrets from me, and I see betrayel in how you would give all my works to our brother without consulting me first. That is the betrayal, Roslyn. The rest…" Riordan trails off, looking at Roslyn for a long moment. Finally, he sinks to his knees before his sister, gently taking her hands in one of his, using the other to prop up her chin, to look on her face. "The rest, sister," he says in a soft but firm tone, "Is my worry for you. Because as I have tried to tell you, this is the path that Danae and I were on. You may think it different, but it is not so different as that. I knew my duty, and she hers. We just wanted a bit of happiness. A stolen kiss, lingered looks… and you have seen where that leads." His words fade, his hand moving up to lightly stroke her face. "Rosie, dear one, I would keep you from that. You may think it stolen happiness, but in the end, it all has a cost. And that cost is pain. And not just to you."
"I would not give all, Riordan. Let him deal with negotiations with Lord Terrick and suffer the dislike that you had to bear last time, and instead stay in Stonebridge and give your attention to that," Roslyn replies, though it is careful as if not to break the fragile bit of affection as she twines her fingers firmly through her brother's where she can. "At least consider it. I will make no suggestion to father unless you agree, and support you in continuing such negotiations, if you feel you should. But, consider it." Apologetic in the small smile that flickers uncertainly across her lips, she breathes out, "I should have said such to you, before suggesting it to Rutger. I only knew it to be words you would not want to hear." To her path, she says nothing, her gaze dropping instead to their hands.
"The dislike I recieved was less then any other member of our family would get, and you know that. You also know our brother's feelings on the Terricks. For all he is a courtier, Rosie, he is not fit to deal with Terrick, not in this." Riordan seems adament of this, for all that he keeps his own voice soft, fingers easily twining with Roslyn's, seeking out the warmth and comfort therein. "All it would take is one meeting. Whatever else, Jerold Terrick is a shrewd man. He would read our brother's disengenious smiles and words as proof of his suspicion that we are all of us godless liars and cheats. I will not risk everything that our family might achieve because our brother's pride is hurt, whether it be still from the gift I gave his Rosanna, or me making my presence known in politics. I will do all I can to assauge it, but I will not do that." Despite his words, however, he takes a breath, and says, "But I will consider, as you say." And then, using the hand on her face to raise his sister's eyes to him once more, he says, "As for Kittridge. I will not forbid you from seeing him, for I know what that will accomplish. Nor will I get a promise from you, for I would not see you tempted to break it and hurt the trust between us. All I ask, sister, is that you think on what would come next, should anything happen further, whether you intend it to or not. You know what would happen, and you know that it would likely end in death, and the weakening of one or both of our Houses." He pauses again, and for once, his eyes take on a pleading look. "And I ask your forgiveness. For if I thought it possible, if I thought I could convince Rutger away from Rosanna, and convince father to marry you to him, I would. In a heartbeat."
Her lips press thoughtfully together, Roslyn meeting Riordan's gaze steadily and apologetic where she says carefully, "And Rutger is twice as shrewd, Riordan. He would not go to Lord Terrick with false smiles and sweetened words. I know, because I would not. He does not have the same attatchments within the Terricks, either, nor the possibility that he could find himself in a scandal in a moment of weakness." She squeezes his fingers, shaking her head with some wry amount of self-deprecating humor in the twist of her smile. "I know I have little high ground left to speak from, but, if even I have such moments—." A pause. "I could convince father, perhaps, but Rutger cares for Rosanna, and a match with the Terricks would be better suited. That is what I wish, brother. That we make such an alliance work, and hopefully do some good for our family with it."
"Sister, this is what I am talking about. You underestimate me. I am used to it from the rest, but not from you. Yes, I find Anais attractive and I like her company. Terrick's ward is also fine to behold. Seven Hells, so is Rygar's sister. If you were to round up all the woman who I might have passing thoughts for and sent them away, Rafferdy would be forced to take up with serving boys." Riordan raises an eyebrow at his sister, his eyes dancing with light amusement. "Have I ever given you cause to make you think I can not learn from mine own mistakes, Rosie? Yes, I am still hurt. I've a hole in me, that aches to be filled, and I would find great comfort in Anais, or someone else. But I know that it could only do harm to my family. When I was with Danae, I was naive, and thought it would not effect our family. That is the only reason it happened. Now I know better. But have you ever seen me do anything, ever, to the specific detriment of our family, with full knowledge of such?" And at Roslyn's last words, Riordan simply nods his head, and gives his sister's hand a comforting squeeze.
"It is not that, Riordan. If it were that, you must underestimate me to think I would do anything to ruin myself. It is only that we are all human," Roslyn murmurs, for all that her tone is measured and calm. His joke earns a smile in turn, fingers squeezing his lightly. "As long as you consider it, I will agree with whatever decision you make."
Riordan nods his head to concede the point, and leans in to give a lingering kiss to Roslyn's forhead. "I love you, Rosie," he says, simply, suming everything up with those four words. Apology, forgiveness, and promise, all wrapped up around the trust and affection that he holds for his sibling. "Oh, and it seems I won't be needing your favor after all," he then adds, bemusement held deep within his eyes as he leans back to hold his sister's gaze once more.
Words firm, quick, Roslyn answers apology with apology where she repeats, "I love you, Rorie." Forgiveness given, tension eases from the line of her shoulders and her smile reappears, humor a thing in her gaze where she curves an eyebrow upwards. "Oh?"
"I was wearing it today, but I doubt anyone saw, with the rain. I'm sure people are expecting that if I took a favor, it would be scandalous. And, admittedly, it crossed my mind, when… well." Riordan simply smiles, even when skirting around the subject of their recent unpleasant interactions, even as he reaches into a pocket and draws out a pouch. Inside is a long kerchief, obviously meant to act as a favor. "But, in the end, I have known for awhile where my duty lay. It's time the rest of Westeros knew too." And, as he unfolds the favor, Roslyn will see that it bears the Tordane crest… and under it, is a single word. A name. Isolde.
"Riordan—," Roslyn starts at seeing it, though her gaze only traces over it before lifting back to her brother. She nods, a simple gesture but with a depth of understanding to it. There is no need for further words, given how likely she knows exactly as he feels. "I only hope you will be happy."
Riordan carefully folds the cloth back up, returns it to it's pouch, and then tucks it back away. "As long as we have eachother, Roslyn, we can both be happy with whatever else comes," he then says, taking up his sisters hands in his and kissing the backs of her hands lightly. His eyes meet hers, and they are clear and open, full of that shared understanding.
"Of course," Roslyn agrees with a flicker of a smile, drawing her own thumbs across Riordan's knuckles in the brush of a reassuring gesture. She does not say anything else for a long while, basking in the welcome relief of mended fights and the comfort of being close again.