|To The Victors|
|Summary:||King Robert calls a lunch and is attended by members of his Court. Amongst them is Ser Rutger Nayland|
|Related Logs:||The Kraken's Last Stand|
|The Great Keep|
|Lord Greyjoy's Feasting Hall. There are tables and benches and chairs.|
|13 April 289 A.L|
The Great Keep of Castle Pyke has been in King Robert's hands for a full day, now. The remaining Greyjoys are holed up inside the Kitchen Tower, and- although there are regions of the Isles and Westeros threatened with the grip of famine- here food is present in abundance. Fish, roast goat, honeywine, and coarse bread are laid out in abundance at the King's table, which is filled out for a midday meal by many of those who had accompanied the King from his Landing.
Among those who have indeed accompanied the King since the press out from the Landing, is one of the Riverlands own sons. Ser Rutger Nayland of the Hag's Mire, is allowed in given that he was given audience with the King this fine day, and as he does come in dressed appropriately for the occasion, he cannot help but pause as he takes in the sights and the smells of the midday meal laid out. Eyes sweep those congregated, as he holds in one hand a bottle, with no maque, and a small rolled up bt of parchment, sealed with the Nayland crest in wax.
"Damned shame, is what it was," King robert is reflecting with disappointment coloring the smile on his face. All expression is lost for a moment as the king tears off a fresh bite from his present repast. One of the knights sitting near him- a Grandison- takes up the conversation for a moment, relating an event from the taking of the Great Keep, for those who were not present, and detailing the retreat of Victarion Greyjoy, in the face of the King.
Politely, Rutger waits as he nears the tale of the combat in the Great Keep. A shake of his head, as the Nayland courtier slides into place, close to the King, but not at all obtrusive- and in the timely fashion Ser Nayland quips. "A damned fine pity Your Grace. It seems right when you get those squid bastards on your hook- they slither back into the depths. Clearly the men can't handle a true fight. Good ones, yes- true ones? I don't know. We had the same trouble with Maron Greyjoy when we entered the Bloody Keep." And there the tale of combat dangled out, so as to peel His Grace from the Grandison's tale, or at least offer a different current to go down.
"Ah, Ser Rutger, step up and share the bounty of Balon Greyjoy's table. Would you believe this passes for a King's meal on these rocks?" King Robert prompts, before laughing, and gesturing the Nayland toward a vacant seat. "Men can consider many things," the king muses further. "But until they see the turn of their own life and death, no man can truly say how he will face defeat. These fish-folk had things all too easy in the early days of the war. They grew accustomed to winning."
"I would be honored to Your Grace." Rutger replies before taking the vacant seat, and setting his things down upon the table. There's a look given over to the Grandison as a nod is exchanged, before he is looking back towards the King. "I would not believe it at all, Your Grace, save that I was inclined to think the Greyjoys only ate rocks and drank piss." A grin there as he settles in, and nods for the honeyed wine.
"Well I am glad to say, they will now be tasting that bitter dish of losing, specially by our hands. For that I am glad." A nod there as he looks back towards the King, only taking a sip of his wine once the cup had been ushered to him.
The eating of rocks and drinking of piss draws a sharp laugh from Robert, and a variety of bemused sounds from the others at the table. "The old man truly believed the Realm wouldn't rise to my support," robert reflects with a shake of his head. "A great bloody fool, he. Damn, but I've missed being on campaign," the King declares with a broad smile.
"A fool indeed. You are our rightful King, and any man who does not see it or support it now is more than a fool, but a damned traitor." Rutger states without a sign of hesitancy. "Your Grace, I wish you could have been with us in the Bloody Keep. It was a fight for the ages." he adds, taking a cue from the King's words. He is then nodding and asking for food before there's a grin. "They fought so damned hard down there. I felt alive in my sword strokes-in fact as my House pressed to get to Maron, I found myself beset by four of the bastards." and down more honeyed wine goes. "I wish you could have been there- for it was a fight that a man dreams of. Pressed in by enemies, but you have it-" and he looks to the king "The taste of victory in your mouth and you fight on for it. And take it."
A shake of his head before he is looking to the King. "To the Victors. And to the True King. All else are pretenders. And poor ones at that." Rutger offers a toast towards Robert, hopefully a well timed one.
The others at the table echo the toast while Robert chuckles and grins, almost ruefully. Yet, he does raise his cup and drink. "Victory will get a man drunk more surely than any wine," King Robert offers, after the toast. He adds, with a broad smile a moment later, "And it gets women drunk just as surely, eh? Hah!"
That brings a laugh from Rutger, before he's grinning back to the King. "It surely does, and it allows you access to their most prized vintage, if I recall." And there a grin passed before he is looking to the bottle by his hand. "Speaking of wines , Your Grace, we of House Nayland have brought you a gift from our taking of The Grey Gardens." And there he stands, offering the rather dusty bottle up and cradled so the King may see. "I know you a man of fine tastes in wine and all else. We thought it only fitting that You should have the best bottle of Rogr Harlaw's cellar. And with it his best Drinking Horns. We wished you were there with us to drink to the falling of Harlaw, but as you could not be, we saved the finest." There the gift made, as he waits to pass on the invitation. He knows protocol in this and so shan't overboard. Just yet.
It is one of the Kingsguard who step forward to accept the offered bottle and horn from Rutger, a habit of protocol much to the king's annoyance. "Damnation, give it here, man," Robert laughs, gesturing for the horn first, and only afterward, the bottle. "It's said the Goodbrothers have a horn for their sigil. Wonder what their lord's best horn looks like," he muses aloud, while admiring the ornaments of the elegant horn he is given. "Very fine, Ser Rutger, very fine. And it will save my cupbearer half the refills, eh? Ha!" Merrily he gestures to the bottle, "Someone crack that open, and lets see what Rogr Harlaw's finest tastes like."
There's a nod given to the Kingsguard who steps up, and there the horns and bottle are offered. There's a grin given over to King Robert. Soon enough a servant would be there with knife to take the old wax and cork out with a pop. The wine itself when drank would be sweet and strong. It could be considered a brandy with the age, but it, like what the Greyjoys have is merely mead. Just a very good mead. "I would hope so Your Grace. I find the horn to be quite handy when you've got drink in it. Say what you will-but they do know how to drink, these Ironmen."
The first measure of the bottle is poured into the king's horn by a pretty servant girl, after the cork and wax seal have been cut away. Brandishing the horn to the acclaim of those around him, King Robert gulps down the stuff with a zeal, coming up for air only after having drained the horn. "HA!" Sucking in a deep breath, he exclaims, "Fuck me, but that's good! Another!" he orders the cupbearer, who pours out the remains of the bottle. "Nayalnd, come here and have a drink from the king's cup," he invites Rutger to take a taste. "Just save some for the other lads, eh?" he stipulates with a broad grin.
And there again is a grin upon Rutger's face as he bows his head. "You honor me greatly, Your Grace." And with that he moves to come by the King's side, so as to partake of the horn. "Thank you." he says but once before he takes the offered cup. A hearty sip, but not one that could be categorized as greedy, is given. And once the Horn is lowered, there's a laugh, before breath is sucked in. "Maiden fuck me twice, truly fit for a King, Your Grace."
Rutger grins back towards Robert, before there, the invitation is at hand, and it is offered first to the closest Kingsguard as he follows protocol. "My Good King, we of house Nayland, would also like to invite you and your family down to Stonebridge upon completion of this campaign. We are planning to hold a feat in Your honor, and in the Honor of the victory you've accomplished here on the Isles." A grin there. " We would also like to show you how we drill our levies, and men at arms, so you can see the worth of the men who have fought so hard for you." his voice taking a tone of sincerity and honesty there. "It would be our honor to have you."
As the king's cup/horn is passed from Robert to Rutger, and from Rutger to Ser Grandison, the Lord of Westeros hears out the invitation with a smile. "Damned, but that sounds fine. Will see what follows, as I've had invitations from every lord between Bear Isle and the fucking Arbor," he exaggerates. "As long as I get a few good tournaments out of the peace, I'll call the war well won, eh?" Another round of laughter follows.
Rutger nods his head. "Of course, Your Grace. We will await your answer, and we understand the constraints that the crown holds." A grin there before he takes a step back, a nod is given to the Kingsguard, before he lingers but a moment before moving to retake his seat. His duty done he sees to his own wine with a nod to the King. "Again, we thank you, Your Grace for the honor your show my House and to our men of Stonebridge."
The men would go on enjoying the noonday meal, letting tales of the battles had in this campaign come out. Laughter, wine and food. All needed for maneuvering in the game.