|What Will You Do?|
|Summary:||Rafferdy makes a plea to his father.|
|Related Logs:||Rowan scandal logs|
|Grand Hall - Fortress of the Sevens|
|The Grand Hall is furnished as one may expect for a family that has funneled their treasury towards more practical uses, though the room is certainly deserving of the name. This massive hall is large enough to host a feast for more than one hundred people and still seats the Lord's throne at the head of the room upon a dais. Black iron hangers hold a pair of silver, candle-lit chandeliers in a line from the main doors to the throne. Two doors lead off near the throne, one on each side of the head of the room while a spiral staircase has been built into the wall on one side by an armored door.|
|24 April, 289 A.L.|
The past two riders bearing news to Rickart from the west had been a Terrick man, and Ser Riordan. Whispers around the castle are that the news borne by both men had been so bad that the Lord of the Mire had flown into a fury, angrily ordering everyone out of presence, and not emerging again until the next day. The household retainers whisper that he has summoned Riordan for a meeting, and is taking his breakfast, which would tend tonindicate a fairer mood.
Of the castle itself, the appointments have been replaced, rather recently. A few new tapestries ornament the walls, and fresh, thick rugs warm the stones underfoot.
Rafferdy wanders hesitantly into the hall, looking for his father at breakfast time. He's actually dressed up, returning to his more noble burgundy pants and matching doublet, though it's sleeveless, as is his style. He swallows, and softly clears his throat as he enters.
Rickart glances up, and greets past a mouthful of cold mutton, "Ahh, Rafferdy. Sit, sit. Hadn't been told you were here." This of course has nothing to do with the retainers being terrified of his black moods, of course. "Have you brought me word of the next disaster? I keep waiting to hear what shall round out the trio," he comments with a snort.
Rafferdy sighs, and he slowly approaches his father. The fact that the man isn't making a big deal out of the fact that he's actually here in the Mire just leaves him more unsettled. "I've been to see Rowenna," he offers, quietly, as he sits across from his father.
Rickart huffs out an irate breath as Rowenna is mentioned. "I've sent for her. Expect she'll be along soon enough." He glances up over the rim of a mug as he draws a long swallow of beer, before wondering aloud, "It's true then. The knight Jerold's bastard made and married is my daughter?" A pass of one hand across his mouth wipes away the last dregs of drink from his beard.
Rafferdy nods, "It is, sir. She fooled me, too." He sighs once more, and shakes his head. "Jarold didn't know. Jarod didn't know until last year." He looks up at his father, "What will you do with her?"
"Fucked if I know, boy," Rickart half growls in exasperation, as he tears off a fresh hunk of bread and chews. Angrily. Om-nomnom. A shake of the head as he swallows. "It's a bloody scandal is what it is. Not to mention no one can seem to tell me where my fucking son is!" A thump of one fist on the table. "If Rowenna has been at the Roost, where in the Seven Hells is Rowan??"
Rafferdy chews on his lip, and then simply asks, "Does it matter?"
Rickart gives Rafferdy a briefly hard look. "It matters to me, boy. I've lost too many of my children to give no thought for another. Have you any damned idea how hard it was on your mother when I had to disown Rowenna those years past?" Belatedly, he adds, "You should see her, before you go."
Rafferdy ignores the last, instead focusing on the situation. "Let Rowenna back in, Father. Give her back her name. This is your chance to forgive her and bring one of your children home."
"And what if I do, then?" Rickart prompts, ire flaring without anything or anyone in particular to fix upon. "Even if I forgive the girl's disobedience, and deceit.. she has married Jerold's bastard. If I grant back her name, that empty-headed whoremonger would become a fucking Nayland!" He looks briefly tempted to hurl his mug at the nearest wall, but settles for grinding his teeth and taking another gulp of beer.
Rafferdy leans forward, and very softly observes, "And what better way to stick it to Lord Jarold."
Rickart shifts in his chair, the thought clearly not a new one to him. "Yes, yes, Jerold would shit himself, but I'd still be stuck with a lying bastard who fucked my daughter and made her a knight. Our name should be an HONOR, not something we tack on some by-blow."
Rafferdy relaxes just a little. At least he has the man's ear now. "This will probably anger you, but, well…" He smirks, "It's not the first time I've done so." He swallows, "Jarod is actually a pretty good man. I would even go so far as to tell you, I like him." He tilts his head a bit, "This could be an excellent opportunity for us. And surely, Mother would be so happy to have you return her daughter to her." He smiles a bit once more, "Rowenna's actually proven herself quite honorable on the battlefield, sir. She lied to be able to do so, but you cannot deny what she has accomplished. Reward her for proving that even the Nayland women are tough enough to be knighted. Let that be the news of the day, and not that you are the kind of father who doesn't even recognize his own little girl when he fights beside her."
Rickart snorts at the description of Jarod as a good man, and grumbles into his breakfast. At the talk of an excellent opportunity, he looks skeptical, but he does muster a low chuckle at the talk of Rowenna doing well on the field. "I was so fucking proud when I thought she was my son," he mutters, half to himself, before his eye sharpens at Rafferdy's final words. "Mind your tongue," he advises shortly, before relaxing back into a musing mood. "It's the lies that bother me so, boy. The lies and the disobedience." He huffs out another breath and turns aside to shout for another beer, before bringing his hardeye back upon Rafferdy. "If she comes before me, and begs my pardon.. as a disobedient daught ought, mayhap I'll find forgiveness, for her mother's sake. Mayhap," is all he will promise.
"It's not my tongue you have to worry about, Father," Rafferdy notes, with little aggression, simply hoping his father remembers he has his a great deal of experience in matters of the word on the street, and knowing what people are likely to say. He nods, however, "The lies bother me as well. But there is balance to be found, sir. She proved herself. You were even proud," he notes, with a bit of jealousy to his tone that he doesn't even realize. "Tell her that." He exhales slowly, and then nods once more, "Not just for Mother's sake, sir." He watches his father closely. "I'm asking you, as well, for this favor."
"I'll promise no more than I've said," Rickart maintains. "If she comes before me as a daughter asking pardon, I shall decide then. If she comes before me with defiance and arrogance, be it on her head, not mine." As Rafferdy tries to ask the favor of her restoration, his father sits back in the chair. "I recall you asking another favor me not so long ago, my boy. Something to do with a Lady, yes?"
Rafferdy looks downward a moment, and he slowly nods. "I did, but… It seems while we were away, she's left. I don't know where she has travelled to." He looks back at Rickart. "No matter. While I had asked, you hadn't really responded, so…" He shrugs, "I suppose it's bygones."
"For fuck's sake, boy, don't sulk," Rickart huffs to his son, as he slides a platter of cold mutton across the tabletop to within reach of Rafferdy. "You did well in the war, and I want to see you rewarded for that. Far past time you were considered for a betrothal- at least ONE of my boys should be able to manage a proper fucking betrothal-" he curses with a flash of irritation, before exhaling the ire and going on. "If you've any thoughts, I'll hear them, but I mean to begin looking soon."
Rafferdy laughs a little, "Sulking's kind of my thing," he jokes, and takes some of the mutton. He chews on his lip a moment. It wasn't really the kind of reward he hoped for. "Um…" He furrows his brow. "Heh… No, I um… I don't have any thoughts. Not now."
The initial quip draws a chuckle from Rickart. "Well. With luck it won't take long," he mentions on the subject of a betrothal. "Anything else?" he prompts of his slightly-less-errant son. "If not, you'd best be back to Stonebridge to help your brother manage this mess. See your mother before you go," he bids again.
Rafferdy nods, rolling his eyes a bit, "Rygar seems to have made the mess even dirtier." He finishes his drink, and stands, glancing around, taking a final look of the place before he leaves again for who knows how long. He begins to turn, and then pauses, looking back at his Father. "Rowan is well. He's happy, and safe. You needn't worry about him." He offers a little warm smile, and then tries to leave.
"You sulk, he makes messes," Rickart guffaws at the comment about Rygar making the mess dirtier. He is even in an improved mood, when Rafferdy offers that last line, and starts to leave. "What's that, boy? Are you just being a bloody optimist, or have you some word?"
Rafferdy pauses, and looks back at his father. "I know where he is. I hope you'll respect that I gave my word I would tell no one. But… I hoped being able to tell you he's doing well was better than you having no word at all, Father." He looks rather apologetic as he speaks, clearly he wants to tell, but has given his word of honor.
"What's that?" Rickart repeats, good mood slipping visibly from his face. "And who have you given your word to? Do they command your loyalty and obedience above even me?" The question carries all the weight of a loaded one.
Rafferdy shakes his head a bit, "Of course not. But, even so, my honor is my honor. You taught me that. I have given my word. Would you have me dishonor myself to prove my loyalty to you, sir? What good is loyalty if you know there is no honor within it?"
"Where is the loyalty of a man who defies his own father?" Rickart snaps, taking the refusal as yet another in the recents days of aggrevations. "It's Rowenna, isnt it? She knows where he is. Blood and damnation, is there any child of mine who can simply obey?" An explosive oath, and wave of dismissal. "Out with you."
Rafferdy stands there in silence. His shoulders slowly slouch just an inch. He swallows, his eyes dropping, before he responds quietly, "Rowan is in King's Landing." He reaches up and scratches the back of his neck. "Tell Mother I'm sorry I missed her while I was here, but I'm not staying where I'm not respected." And for the third time, he turns to go.