| The Joys of Marriage |
| Summary: | Aleister confronts Cherise about rumors spreading around the camp |
| Date: | 10/May/2012 |
| Related Logs: | Meanwhile in the Flint Camp |
| Players: |
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| Aleister's Tent, Seagard |
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| Tent Stuff |
| Mon Feb 06, 289 |
Within the tent, Cherise was seated after having been carted around like some inept glass doll. Her handmaidens were quiet mostly, offering what comforts they may by issuing the lady tea and foods to settle her returned hunger. While in her bed, lounged against pillows, her foot waved from side to side, in sheer boredom. "They took far too much enjoyment out of it. She is a mad woman is she not? Distractions? What distractions?"
Aleister had been off attending to a light training session, trying to regain some of that lost muscle that came as a result of the fever, when he'd received word that Cherise had been ~carried~ to her tent by a group of men from the Flint Encampment. A single question had made it clear that she wasn't seriously injured and it's for that reason and that reason alone that he took time to put away armor and weapons. A towel was then claimed, his face dabbed free of sweat before he began to make his way in the direction of her tent and once it was reached, he simply slipped inside. A quick look around was all that was needed and when his eyes came to settle upon Cherise, a frown took hold of his lips, "You do not look gravely injured, Cherise."
Those four handmaidens are swift to curtsey in recognition of the Lord Charlton, Cherise's words promptly follow. "Oh? According to Lady Cordeyla I am wounded and need time to heal. Thus she felt it necessary that I not be on my feet and instead carted from the camp like some… some." She couldn't think of what exactly to compare herself to at that moment. "Surely everyone had a good laugh from it."
The curtsey's from the handmaidens draw a dismissing wave of Aleister's hand, with not so much as a look being offered, for his attention seems to be focused upon his wife for the moment, "A laugh? Oh yes, I can well imagine that many found such a thing to be humerous. While many others may certainly wonder why you were being carried back by men of the North." A hand lifts to the towel over his shoulder and he's moving to promptly toss it towards a table before making his way over to claim a glass of wine. "Tell me, in what fashion does Cordelya believe you to be wounded?"
"She believes that I have no regard for the welfare of our soon to be child. And felt herself entitled to damn near shout about it in her camp." Cherise rolled her eyes, gripping her mug a bit tighter. "I am near full of tolerance for that woman Aleister. She is mad, completely unstable. Lord Anders knows not what he has allowed to fester for she believes her skills far outweigh that of our Maester."
Listening to that, Aleister gives only a slight incline of his head in response to her words, followed by the touch of a smirk that begins to curve his lips upwards. "In a way, dear Cherise, her skills do outweigh that of our Maester. She was, after all, able to help me, when he could not." Setting the pitcher down and claiming the goblet with the wine, it's lifted to his lips and a healthy sip comes to be taken before he's lowering it back down. "Did she, perhaps, catch wind of the recent rumors that seem to be running about? There is one, my dear, that seems to suggest that you do not want this child." While that could be an accusation, he's offering it quiet simply and more in the fashion of a question.
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Cherise=deception Vs Aleister=alertness
Cherise: Failure Aleister: Great Success
Net Result: Aleister wins - Crushing Victory
Cherise released a partial chuckle and snort, something of a mix from the two. "They say the mad ones are at times gifted." Her eyes lowered to the mug then, filled with a favorable tea containing the extracts of various fruits. No wine for the present as she was comforted with this fruity drink. "She had, she even asked me about it and I had told her it was a silly thing to even believe. Of course I wish for the child." The later would be her words fabricated, for there was something upon her features that would give her uncertainty away. "It is the highest accomplishment one may have to their Lord."
"I had not heard such a thing, but I suppose that it could be the case." That's offered to the first and the goblet comes back to Aleister's lips, the contents coming to be drained as he listens to her speak. As she begins to finish, there's something in those words and within her features that betrays what she actually feels and for a moment, the Lord's hand tightens upon the goblet. Then, with a fluid motion, it comes to be hurled in the direction of Cherise's handmaidens, without care or thought for their well being and it's followed by an almost bellowed, "Get. Out." Hands then curl into fists at his side and he's taking a couple of steps in the direction of the bed, the smirk deepening upon his lips and a low, humourless chuckle begins to rumble in the back of his throat. "~You're lying~," and he makes no effort to conceal the accusation of his words. There's no further steps claimed towards her and when he speaks again, there's no concealing the venom that would mark his next word. "Why?"
The words were perhaps some type of rumor or fabled myth that circulated upon the unintelligent surfs. Still, it had to originate from somewhere. Cherise remained seated on the edge of her bed until a sudden shriek and high pitched gasp drew her eyes to snap up, towards one of her hand maidens with a widened and confused glare then laid upon Aleister. The women cowered then swiftly gathered their skirts to depart. One of them had been caught on her nose, though how far the injury was she'll be informed later. Straight caught in her own web, as he drew near, the Lady Charlton shifted further along the bed as a precaution. "About what Aleister?" She returned, her composure resettling as if he was surely mistaken.
Aleister doesn't even look to the retainers as they shriek and cower, nor when they begin to run out, apparently expecting his command to be obeyed. There's another step towards Cherise as she simply questions him and while that smirk remains upon his lips, it's not a pleasant thing to witness. A faint 'tsk tsk' begins to escape past his lips, followed by a shake of his head, before he's uttering, "Do not play games with me, Cherise. I have not the patience for such things." A breath, short and quick, is taken. "You're lying about wanting the child." Pause. "Were you lying about it being mine as well?"
Cherise held the mug against her abdomen as the other hand was used as a brace against the bed's surface. Her actions had always received light chiding in turn, however the contrast of amusement mixed with his darkened undertones keeps the lady on edge. A nonchalant sliding towards the edge opposite from where Aleister stood. She was about to play on the defensive until that wayward accusation narrowed her brows. "What? Do not be silly Aleister, of course it is your child." That was an awkward accusation as she continued to slide off the bed, then set her mug down. Utterly confident that she had some higher ground. "How could you even think that? But yes, yes at times I wish I was not having this child. Either to be done and over with or not even here." All the words rushed out from her lips faster than she can filter them. "Damn you, you had almost died and I knew, I knew that witch of a woman would question the validity of this child should you not have lived. And it has caused me nothing but discomfort. So yes, there are times I do not want this child. Not now and not anytime in the near future. I want it to be us, just us. I wasn't even given long to enjoy that."
Watching as she begins to slide to the other side of the bed, Aleister simply listens to what she has to say, another low laugh beginning to sound in the back of his throat as he gives a shake of his head, "How can I even think it!?" He seems to draw some humor from that, for some reason, and it creeps into the smirk upon his lips, "I can think it, Cherise, because you would sit there and tell me that you want the child, when in fact, you don't." Fists uncurl as he begins to turn away from her, his eyes coming to focus on a portion of the tent wall for the moment. "Damn me!? Damn you, woman! Providing a child is what you are ~expected~ to do." Now, he's casting a look over his shoulder, looking to her with narrowed eyes for a moment, "Have you been causing your own sickness, Cherise?"
Laughing at a time like this was wholly appropriate, so Cherise was more than certain some distance would be necessary. She knew there was her duties as a wife, as it entailed a few things such as loyalty, providing heirs and seeing to her husband's wellbeing. All of which she has more than met the standards. Within Cherise's tent, Aleister and the lady stood on opposite sides. The latter intending on keeping a distance between them. "You're mad Aleister, even if I do not want the child now I cannot even fathom being the cause of it!" Lifting the long tippet of her trumpet sleeve to untie a ribbon that kept a key attached upon her person at all times it was thrown at and in her husband's direction. "I have only used those herbs within that box there, given by Danae besides those given by Cordeyla. Go ahead, have the Maester or any knowledgeable man or woman see to their validity if you doubt me so."
<FS3> Aleister rolls Mind: Failure.
Standing opposite Cherise, with the bed between them, Aleister can't help but give another shake of his head and another low, rumbling laugh and when it comes to fade, he's almost quietly murmering, "Mad? .. Mad? .. Fucking right I'm mad, Cherise." Again, his hands come to curl into fists at his sides, his body threatening to advance another step towards the bed, though it doesn't come to pass, "You sat there and tried to pass a lie off to me and now you would expect me to believe that you are not the cause of things?" The key that was tossed to him goes unnoticed, no effort being made to catch it or to pick up from the ground when it clatters there, "I will not waste my time to see whether the herbs are what you say they are, or not." Perhaps, he'll just simply have the lot replaced.
Aeliana sticks her head in after a brief 'Hulloo'. Stopping just inside the flap, with all the air of entitlement borne from being family, she arches an eyebrow ever so slightly and turns her gaze from Aleister to Cherise. A hand dips into her sleeve, ever so subtly. "Aleister," she says calmly, her voice sharp enough to cut through almost any hyperfocus. "If you murder your spouse, you'll need to make sure that you don't get caught." Dry, to the point, and then she's crossing to her brother. "What's going on?"
Feeling as nothing she could say would convince him Cherise had raked a hand through her hair. She lacked having a single word of retort easily coming to mind. Not until Aeliana had intruded into their husband and wife squabble. Such words should not be so jokingly tossed around. Especially not at this moment. Cherise's murmured lowly, "Great…" A little bit louder she added, "Just, just see that he remains here until he has calmed down." Needing to leave this environment well before Aleister had become angered, the lady then moves for the exit of the tent. "I cannot endure this, not now."
The sound of another entering into the frey draws Aleister's attention towards Aeliana as she makes her way in and there's a slight nod of his head and a quick, "Sister," before he's giving only the hint of a blink before snapping out, "Watch yourself. Such things should not be said!" Then, he's looking towards Cherise as she begins to speak and there's a quick shake of his head before he's just as quickly snapping out, "Sit down, Cherise. We are not yet finished." And then he's moving, no doubt to cut her off before she can escape the confines of the tent.
Aeliana can't help but smirk faintly, all pretence of being bubbly and sweet abandoned, and she bends to pick up the key. "Perhaps they should not be said, brother dear," she responds her voice smooth and self-possessed, "but sunshine is the best disinfectant. Amazing what thoughts are exposed as being foolish once they are spoken outloud." She moves then to pour herself a drink and settles into a chair, draping herself luxuriously.
"Stay, Cherise. I will not let him harm you," she says as if she were commenting on the weather."
Her exit blocked, Cherise stands there unwilling to go have a seat just yet. The swarm of a thunderstorm dwarfed the ray of sunshine coming from Aeliana's corner. "I'm sure Aeliana…" The lady returns in a tone absent of faith. As for Aelister Cherise adopted her noble poise, shoulders squared as if ready match wills. "Do me a small favor as you have my key, unlock the brown and silver box just beside my bed and tell your dearly confused brother which herbs reside within." She was not going to sit just yet however she knew that her goodsister had the skills of being quite the hedge woman.
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Aeliana=Presence Vs Aleister=Presence
Aeliana: Good Success Aleister: Success
Net Result: Aeliana wins - Marginal Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Aeliana=Presence Vs Cherise=Presence
Aeliana: Good Success Cherise: Success
Net Result: Aeliana wins - Marginal Victory
There's a quick snap of Aleister's head in the direction of Aeliana, that smirk of his still resting upon his lips as he grunts, "Dear sister, I hardly need you to offer my ~good wife~ protection." And in truth, it's not as if he's struck her before and while he's not quite .. calm this evening, he doesn't seem as if he's going to haul off on her. His attention does then shift to Cherise, eyes narrowing a touch in her direction, "Did I not say that I don't need to know, Cherise? I will simply have the whole lot replaced."
Aeliana rolls her eyes quietly and rises. "Well, -I- want to know," she says breezily as she crosses to the box. "And I'm happy to oversee her herbal intake if that is the sourse of this charming skerfuffle." She deftly unlocks the box and sifts through the contents. "Mint, rose hips, dandelion… Oh for pity's sake. Chamomile?"
She turns to Cherise. "Your collection is about as exciting as watching a sheep relieve itself." She snaps the box closed and relocks it. "Replace it if you want, Aleister. There's no danger in taking her off any of these suppliments. Though there are more effective remedies for morning sickness out there, your good wife seems to be playing it safe." She tosses the key back to Cherise and moves to retake her seat. "Now. Aleister. Have you been taking the tincture I gave you?"
She knew her flowers though not the medicinal purpose of each one as that was left to the experts. At least having this verified by another, seeing as her words were no longer trusted. Cherise took a muted victory stroll toward her bed and sat upon the edge, hands dutifully folded against her abdomen. "Replace it if you want, I only took these precautions to safeguard your child from Lady Erenford. Were it not those very rumors about you and she you have told me to disregard? And now you give credence to those that surround me?" She kept her tone mild, seeking to remain calm and not giving into anger. "Do you honestly believe me capable of doing such a thing? Truly Aleister."
As Aeliana moves to the box to check the herbs and that reports that there is nothing remiss about them, Aleister can't help but give a resigned grunt and another quick shake of his head. His eyes flit back in the direction of Cherise, regarding her for a moment before he's offering, almost simply, "Fine. They can remain." No way he's going to admit his suspicions were wrong on that part. At least, not yet. There's a look back to Aeliana so that he can give her a nod and a quick, "Of course," before he's looking back to Cherise so as to blink, "The Lady Erenford has little to do with this topic, Cherise." There's another shake of his head and one hand lifts to rub idly at the rough stubble that grows upon his face, "If you seek to bare the child, Cherise, why then lie about wanting it?"
Aeliana lets out a soft laugh. "Oh dear. Lady Erenford? That old chestnut again?" She chuckles again. "Aleister, I don't see why you won't let me out of my box. I'm getting fidgity, you know. All this work is very trying; hardly a fitting outlet for my intellect." Her eyes cut over to Cherise, however, at her brother's last words. "There are other options," she drawls quietly to her brother, her grey-green eyes studying her sister-in-law as if pondering an abstract equation.
"She is near the same age as I Aeliana." Cherise corrects, the two being a year apart as age as she took the girl's inquiry figuratively. To Aleister she gives, "Am I not entitled to doubts? Or to feel this way? I could very well die or live when this child comes, has that not crossed your mind? It does mine ever single day. Believing that this, this child could leave you a widow." The complications she was having was already solidifying that fear. Cherise did not want to ask what other options Aeliana had in mind, at least the girl had not lied about which herbs were within the box. For now the Lady Charlton keeps her eyes elsewhere, really searching for a way to leave this tent.
Casting a look to Aeliana, Aleister is giving a shake of his head and the faintest of chuckles, "A recurring theme, dear sister, but one that is of no concern." Then, the smirk is returning to his lips before it's broken as he offers, "Would you rather be back at home, sewing with the rest of the ladies?" He already knows the answer, for he's looking back in the direction of Cherise, "Doubts are one thing, Cherise, but saying that you would rather be without child? That is something entirely different." A pause is taken, one that comes with a steadying breath as he gives a shake of his head, "You will not die as a result of the babe, Cherise."
Aeliana smiles slightly, her rosebud lips curving upwards in a tiny gesture of amusement. "Cherise," she says kindly, her voice calm. "You are surrounded by skilled hedge women: myself, Danae, Corrie… You could die, aye, but you would be hard pressed to do so with us around. Be at peace." Her gaze turns to her brother and she rises. "Love her well, brother," she says in the same quiet voice she had used before. "Keep her close to your heart. If nothing else, she has proven herself to our cause… And I will care for her as well." She crosses to her brother's side, reaching up to gently play with nape of the man's neck where his curls had once been, something she had done since she was an infant. She stands there by Aleister's side, her eerily calm eyes looking Cherise over.
Still the topic of her Lady was considered to be nothing of concern. Dismissed once more as she remains seated. Of course she'd rather not be in Hollyhort then again it was becoming a tad bit of a tempting offer since this engagement had started. At least there she can feign and illness then rest in the quiet solitude of her lavish chambers, those chambers she missed sorely. "You are no sooth-seer Aleister and Aeliana, Coredyla or Danae may not be around when that time nears. You attempt to feed hope into a bottomless barrel." She stood up then, throwing up her hands as if giving up on the subject, "Just leave me be." The all to calm nature coming from Aeliana just added to her disgust of the subject as she would once again try to exit the tent.
Aeliana chuckles and shakes her head. "I'll find you later. Be well." And she heads for the door.
If there's been any that could calm Aleister, it was most certainly his sister and at her words, there's a simple nod of the man's head, followed by a murmered, "Of course." Then, there's that brush of her hand upn the nape of his neck and there's a soft chuckle that finally begins to escape past his lips, "Thank you, Aeliana." But, it's back to Cherise, his head dipping slightly in her direction before he's offering, quiet simply, "Have faith." Her attempted retreat, though, has arm lifting to try and block her way, even as he flits his attention over in the direction of his sister, "Sister, could you leave us? There are things that I must discuss with my wife."
This Aleister forged blockade was riding the very edge of her patience. But sure, Aeliana could leave. That had only reddened her cheeks as there was still more to discuss. "What more can you say, I'm a horrible person? I disappoint you as a wife?" She snapped around, giving the pair her back as she sulked with both arms crossing her bosom. "I want to leave. Now."
Preventing Cherise from leaving, Aleister waits until his sister had departed the pavilion before he's settling his attention back upon his wife, even if he can only stare at her back for the moment, "No, that's not what I was going to say at all, Cherise." A moment of silence passes before there's another slight shake of his head, "You are neither a horrible person, nor a disappointment, Cherise."
Having faith held little standing upon situations beyond one's control, something Cherise was blatantly not used to. She remained there, unmoved and unwilling to turn around. When she could not reach her hands in to manipulate the turn of events it left her feeling helpless, vulnerable. Those sensations were strictly forbidden. Cherise offered nothing as a retort.
When she doesn't come to face him, Aleister is moving towards her, hands lifting to try and settle upon her shoulders as he offers, "A child is important, Cherise. Both to me and to my family." He stops for a moment, though she'd hear the steady breathing behind her. "I should not have accused you of being the cause of your sickness, my dear. Nor should I have raised a thought that the child would not be mine." There's a certain sincerity to his words, as if he was actually apologizing.
In their ideal world Cherise would have turned around, instantly seeking his forgiveness for such ill thoughts of doubt and worth. However the lady was not so willing to cast aside her ire, not yet as it still heated her flesh and deepened the beating of her heart. When she felt his touch upon her shoulder she instantly pulled it away. Twas better to keep the lie until feelings had changed rather than admit those truths.
When she comes to pull away from his touch, Aleister merely allows his hands to fall back to his sides as he begins to give a shake of his head. There's a sigh that sounds past his lips and the brush of air as he takes a step back, "So, what would you have me say, Cherise? Or would you rather I simply took my leave?"
These emotions were on the furthest side of the scale relating to the healer's recommendations. She needed to calm herself and return to an at ease state. Cherise kept her eyes in the opposite direction of her husband, looking upon everything and anything that wasn't him at this moment. "Just leave me be." She murmured quietly. Having a feeling she'll need to see just how grave that injury was upon her handmaiden.
"Fine," is the single word that comes to be offered as he gives in to her wants and once it has been offered, Aleister is turning on heel and toe so that he can begin to cross the floor of the tent to reach the 'doorway' and then slip out and into the campsite proper.
In need of a few moments for herself, to breath, to recollect her thoughts. To analyze over how they, rather she, ended up feeling so discomforted. A recurring theme it seemed like ever since… Cherise turned about after dropping both hands to her side and catching his's back. She breathed in once before releasing his name. "Aleister." Not a commanding tone as she only wanted to gain his attention.
Aleister had almost made it to the doorway that leads from the tent when she calls his name and for a moment, it seems as if he might simply pretend he didn't hear her, for there's another step taken. Then, he's stopping, eyes settling upon that doorway for a moment before he's turning back around to face her, his head canting a touch to the side as he offers, "Yes?"
Whether it was lack of courage or uncertainty that held her suspended for a few moments, Cherise gradually closed the distance between their bodies. Her eyes to the floor as if carefully monitoring every step until his boots were within sight. It was a white lie, a small one, one that may have healed with time or required some severe help to 'get over'. Standing there, Cherise raised her head and eyes naturally until meeting his. Instead of issuing words of forgiveness, or apologizing, she enacted the strongest urge boiling within. Her delicate palm raised in a strike against his lovely, rugged cheek. Followed by, "…"
He grants her that silence, choosing to simply watch her stand there and when she begins to cross the floor towards him, he's not entirely sure what to expect. As such, when she finally draws to a halt and her eyes lift to meet his, there's a slight questioning contained within. That is, right up until that delicate palm connects with the side of his cheek, sending his head just a touch to the side and leaving him with a momentary expression of confusion. One hand does lift, though not against her, but rather to brush his fingertips against the side of his cheek and when it comes to lower, his head turns back enough to look at her and offer, "I deserved that." Then, he's tilting his head down to try and press his lips to hers, to claim a kiss that comes after an almost breathless, "I'm sorry," is offered.
Feeling a touch justified, Cherise remained there instead of retreating further into the pavilion. She would agree that it was well deserved, deserved perhaps from the moment he began to give into his ire. Something she has never seen before , at least not in her direction. It may be found surprising that the lady doesn't pull away from him this time as his lips draw near. A knee jerk reaction pounded her fist against his chest once, twice before latching onto the fabrics of his tunic. He wasn't going anywhere.
He wasn't one to give into his ire at all, let alone at her, and when the apology came to escape past his lips, Aleister at least meant it. There's no move to stop the pounding of the fists against his chest and it's only when her hand latches onto the fabric of his tunic that his own lifts to come rest against her arm and then higher, to find her cheek and craddle it in his palm. The press of his lips to hers is a light thing at first, a kiss that seeks forgiveness, more then anything else, and it comes with with the faintest of tempered sighs.
