| Red, White, and Crying |
| Summary: | Lucienne is worried about her brothers. |
| Date: | 28/Nov/288 |
| Related Logs: | Jaremy logs. Riverrun logs. Lots of logs. |
| Players: |
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| Jarod's Chambers, Four Eagles Tower |
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| Let's be honest, the bar is always open, even if people aren't partaking. |
| Mon Nov 28, 288 |
It's still technically morning rather than afternoon when Jarod returns from his 'watchtower inspection' he was off on the previous day. When his horse is stabled he promptly slinks into the castle and gets up to his room as fast as he can. One side of his face is sunburnt bright red and the other is not, as if slept on his side with one half directly facing the sky for awhile. His right hand is also bandaged, fairly awkwardly. Atop that, his clothes are disheveled and all in all he looks like his 'inspection' involved a lot of rolling around fully clothed in sand. He considers the flagon on his desk but, after some thought, opts to pour himself some water instead. He then takes his cup and himself over to his mirror. Blinking at his unshaven face. "Fuck me to seven hells…" he mutters, though he sounds more generally amazed than as if he's cursing anything.
In a stark contrast to Ser Jarod's dishevelled appearance, his lady sister is impeccably-groomed as she stands and knocks upon his door, her dress freshly donned, her hair recently brushed out until her curls bounce and shine.
"Umm…I'll be down in about an hour," Jarod calls to whoever is knocking on his door, continuing to examine himself in the mirror. Blinking at…himself. For all that, his door isn't locked if one were to try it.
"Jarod?" Lucienne enquires curiously, stepping closer to the heavy door that bars her half-brother's chambers. "I… Celine could stay by the door, if you'd prefer it, but I…" There's a break as she hesitates, and then Luci decides: "Nevermind, it can wait."
"Luci?" Jarod turns about from his self-examination. There's a note of concern in his tone, when he hears that of his sister. He doesn't particularly consider how odd he looks at present before hastily calling. "No, no, it's fine. I'm decent." Well, he's fully-clothed. "Would prefer some privacy from your lady's maid, but come in if you like."
Celine frowns deeply at Ser Jarod's repsonse, the tall and dark handmaid no doubt displeased by the notion of leaving her lady. Yet she is bid stay with the flash of a palm, and the girl - who in truth is older than she whom she serves - obeys. Lucienne pushes open the creaky door just far enough to slip through, and closes it with a snicking noise behind her. "Thank you," she tells her brother, relieved until her eyes fall upon him. "Gracious, Jarod. Are you alright?"
"Camped on the beach," Jarod says with a shrug, as if that in any way explains his mussed and wide-eyed appearance. He certainly doesn't look hung-over, that can be said. Red-eyed, but not hung-over. "Oh, aye. I'm…" He doesn't answer right away. Like he has to stop and consider. "…I am getting my head around a few matters. But I'm all right. I think. I think I am. How're you? Sit down, you look troubled. You want something to drink? I've water. And wine. Little early for that, though. Messes with the head and all."
Announcement: Gnome shouts, "FYI, I'm going to be screwing with +who. Please ignore any errors."
"You're red on one side and white on the other," observes Lucienne, still peering in wonder at Jarod. "And your eyes look to have been crying, and your clothes look to have been… battered in a sandstorm. You expect to be down in an hour?" Skeptical, she sounds, as she crosses the room to take a seat on the bed. "Are you really all right? I'm worried," she confesses. "About you."
"Crying!?" Ser Jarod is affronted. "What do you think I am, Luci, some sort of thirteen-year-old maiden?" He goes to look at himself in the mirror again. Frowning. "Must be from the smoke." He hastily adds. "From the fire. From when I was camping. On the beach." He splashes his face in his shaving basin, then bounds over to sit on his bed next to Lucienne. And hugs her. "I love you, sweet sister. You are absolutely the best of hearts, don't let anyone ever tell you different."
Lucienne smirks, amused by the insult perceived in her description of crying eyes. She watches Jarod splash his face, and shuffles appropriately as he joins her on the bed, but that embrace is most unexpected. Not unwelcome, but unexpected. She blinks her eyes wide. "I - well, I love you too, my dear brother. I worry for you, I do. You haven't seemed yourself since Riverrun. Is it just…" She hesitates to say the name.
Jarod musses Lucienne's hair as he breaks off from hugging, and he is smiling at her. Perhaps not an absolutely jovial smile, it's genuine, and his green eyes are warm. "Just Jaremy?" He finishes the unspoken thought for her, his smile relaxing into a more thoughtful and sad expression. "That's a good deal of it. I had some shred of hope that Ser Rygar might consent to him taking the black. It'd be a proper knightly end. But that hope fades now, and I would not end things with him as they are between us."
Though her hair is so recently brushed all nice, Lucienne doesn't protest more than a short yelp of 'hey!' as Jarod makes a mess of it for her. "Just Jaremy," she repeats, her own smile hollow, and fading as quickly as it appears. "How does he look, Jarod," she wonders, finally curious to know more. "How are they treating him?"
"He is in the dungeon cells, but apart from that he isn't being treated poorly. They're keeping him by himself and he wasn't being harmed when I was there. Nor did he look like he'd taken any hurts that hadn't come from his 'rebellion' at Stonebridge." There's a world of frustration in Jarod's tone as he uses the word. "He's…he's still like he always was, Luci." Which seems also to frustrate him. "Convinced he's right, convinced he's the grand knight in the storybook on the righteous crusade, despite all he's done."
Lucienne heaves a long, heavy sigh, and shakes her head sadly. "We never could convince him otherwise," she supposes, her shoulders sagging. "Is he fed and watered? Did a Guard go with you into his cell? I… I'd like to visit him, but I don't know if I've the stomach for it, honestly." The phrase itself prompts her to lay a hand nervously on her tummy.
Jarod leaves his arm around Lucienne's shoulder, giving her another squeeze. He seems to take as much comfort from it as he intends to give. "It was difficult. I was…angry with him, Luci. I think I've been angry at Jaremy for a long time, in ways I didn't entirely understand. But, aye, he's being fed and watered adequately, least he was when I was there. I didn't go in, precisely. We spoke through the bars, with the jailor present. I'm going back myself soon, I think. I've been thinking on some things and…I think I can make my peace with him. I think I can. I think he'll need that, and I figure I will as well."
"They wouldn't let you in?" Lucienne turns her head up to look at Jarod, her brow creased in a scowl. "How do you… how do you mean to make peace with him, Jarod? What would you say, have him say?"
"I think there are some things I just need to let go of, when it comes to Jaremy," Jarod says. "Not pretend they aren't there. I did that for years, I don't think it did either him or me much good. But…he is who he is, Luci. I can't wish him into being someone different, or doing what I think he should do or what I think father needs him to be, or use my own honor in place of his to stand for him - which I figure I did a little when I asked Ser Rygar to let him take the black. He's Jaremy, for better or worse. But he is my brother, and I do love him, and he does me as well in the end. I was harsh with him when I saw him before. This time, I just want to tell old stories from when we were boys and help him prepare to face whatever comes like a man, and as much a knight as he was ever capable of being."
Lucienne leans on Jarod, settling her head in the crook of his shoulder as he speaks. Her mouth turns an expression similar to a pout, and her eyes blink lazily, as though heavy with sleep. Many would use the phrase 'a good man' in response, but hers is subtly different; she murmurs, "You are such strength," to her brother, her tone full of admiration. "Might I ride with you to Stonebridge when you go, Jarod? I'd like to see him for myself, I feel I should."
"He's family, Luci. Can't take the love away from that, no matter what he's done." Jarod seems to find some vague reassurance in that. Her murmur makes him smile, albeit a little crookedly. "You're very kind. Not sure what I am these days, truth be told. I'm trying to figure it out, though. And aye. Of course you can. I'd like the company. It's difficult but…aye. I think we should. I think we'll regret it for all our days it we don't try and help him some, even if it's only to face his end well. What he did was awful, and does deserve justice. But he's still our Jaremy."
"Thankyou," says Lucienne, reaching out to squeeze Jarod's knee affectionately. "I think this has changed us all, for better or worse. I don't know about you, but… I feel very old, all of a sudden. — I should let you to clean up, Jarod. Do you need to rest? Should I have someone draw you a bath?"
"No, I slept. I think." Jarod sounds unsure whether to term what he did 'sleep' or not. "Just need to shave and clean up a bit, and I'll be all right. Got duties to see to about the house. I've got a good deal to think on but at least I'm…thinking on it." He smiles at her, and reaches up to muss her hair again. "Bath'd be nice this evening, though. You take excellent care of me, Little Luci. Don't know what I'd do without you."
Lucienne smiles again, ducking away - but not far enough to be out of reach - from that next ruffle of her hair. "A bath this evening, then, and some cold cream for your sunburn," she agrees, standing up to take her leave. "Sooner or later, you'll have to do without me," comes the reminder, accompanied by a wagging finger and another smirk. "Unless you're planning on calling the Timberhall home!" But more seriously: "Be well, my dear brother. I'll be here for when you're not."
"And you'll have to do without me, and we'll both weep very prettily when that day comes, for it shall truly hurt my heart," Jarod says with a laugh that's almost wistful, not letting her escape without a final hair-mussing. "But that day hasn't come yet. Aye. I'll be here when you're not as well."
Lucienne's hair is going to need hours more brushing to recover. At this rate, her player is going to make Jarod start +rolling muss hair. >.> Oh, also: Lucienne takes her leave.
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Jarod=Unarmed Vs Lucienne=Hair
< Jarod: Success Lucienne: Failure
< Net Result: Jarod wins - Marginal Victory
SIGH
