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Will of Iron, Heart of Fire (closed for sallythescorpion)

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saedo

Delver of the Deep
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Aug 6, 2010
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3,547
*THUNK* Connor Langford grunted as the axe sunk deep into the log, but failed to split it. He raised both log and axe above his head and dropped them to the chopping block again. *THUNK* He grinned as the stubborn knot parted and the two halves of the log clattered to the ground.

"Milord?"

Connor didn't have to turn around to recognize the wheedling voice of his advisor, Joffrey. Connor grumbled to himself as he reached for another log. As a boy, his father had often sentenced him to the wood pile as a form of discipline, but Connor had grown to like the time for thought that the mindless physical exertion provided. He did not care to be disturbed while doing it.

*THUNK* Another log split beneath his blade.

"Milord!"

Connor sighed. Joffrey had loyally served his family for decades, but the elderly man never could seem to grasp that when Connor had an axe in hand, he wanted to be left alone. He sank the axe into the chopping block and turned to his advisor. "Yes, I heard you, Joffrey. What's so damned important?"

The white-haired man bobbed his head nervously, the reality that his Lord was displeased to have been disturbed at last dawning on him. "Milord, the King has returned."

Connor grunted, wiping the sweat off his brow. "So? We knew the war was almost over when I returned. Small wonder that the King would himself return." King Richard had launched another assault for territory several months back. Kings seemed to have an insatiable appetite for new lands. Connor had considered it a damn fool exercise from the beginning. The scraggly, arid bits of soil they'd wrested from the enemy seemed a poor reward for the considerable loss of men and horse it had cost them.

Of course, Connor was a bit biased. He'd returned a month ahead of the King having taken a spear through his thigh. The physicians had thought it a mercy to let him die in his home. But against the odds, he'd recovered from the grievous wound. And since his actions had saved the King's younger brother Phillip (the damn fool would've gotten himself impaled had Connor not intervened), Connor's standing with the royal family was much improved. But had he to do it over, he would've stayed home.

"But there is news of the Tullys, milord," continued Joffrey. "Word has it both Percival and Johnathon perished during the final assault."

Connor's eyebrows lifted at this. The Tully's held the neighboring fief, a modest holding with great repute for its vineyards. Their relations with the Langfords had been strained for decades. Some minor offense three generations ago had descended into a low-grade feud that still simmered today.

But Randall Tully, the elderly patriarch, was now without sons, leaving only his daughters. Though by law his female heirs could inherit his holdings, as a practical matter the lands would ultimately be controlled by whatever man the eldest daughter married. Connor grinned wickedly. Why could that man not be him?

With his recent service to the King's family, Connor could expect the throne to be inclined to reward him, but Connor wanted no part of the arid scrubland that the kingdom had so recently acquired. But instead, he could point out how the neighboring Tully lands were now without a male heir. And here Connor was a widower (his wife had died three years prior) with no children and there was Randall Tully with a daughter who ought to be of marriageable age by now. Why not solve both problems with a marriage between the two. If the King could be so persuaded, then he would suggest such a solution to the Tullys. Randall Tully might care little for the Langfords, but he could not readily refuse such a suggestion from his King.

Connor chuckled. This could prove most fortuitous indeed.

"Come with me, Joffrey," he directed, striding towards the house and barely noticing the twinge of pain from his leg. "You may need to prepare for a wedding."
 
Helena Tully looked up at the messenger before her in disbelief. His big frame making her seem even smaller than her 5'1". Her big brown up stared up, suprisingly dry, all things considered.

"Both of them, Brian? You are sure?" she could not comprehend it. Both her brothers, dead? She should have felt a greater level of sadness, but they had been gone on the Crusades for more than eigth years now, and she had been little more that a child when they had gone.

But her father, he would be crushed. She was sure that he was clinging to life, only to see his son and heir return to the fold, to marry, and carry on the family name. How could she crush that dream for him?? Even if Johnathon had been spared, but dear god, both of them???

"Brian, did you witness it with your own eyes?"

She listened, her heart sinking, as the loyal family retianer described how Johnathon had been disembowled, by Saracen scimitar, and Percival, while coming to the aid of his younger brother, had been mortally wounded, and died as a result of infection and fever, three days later.

The next thought that occured to her, was that she was in a very vulnurable situation. Father was aged, and she would need to secure the family's position with a strong marraige, or Langford would encroach on thier land, taking what had belonged to the Tulley family since it had been given to them, seven generations previously, for their loyalty to the king.

She turned to Brian

"Not a word to father, you hear me? I shall tell him when the time is right, but for now, it will kill him, and news in the locality, will made us susceptible to attack. Keep only your own counsel on this, my good man!"
 

After scheming late into the night, Connor dispatched Joffrey to Highguard, King Richard's castle. He was slightly reluctant out the elderly advisor out after having kept him up so late, but Joffrey was the best man for the job. As the fourth nephew of a minor baron, Joffrey was too far down in his family's hierarchy to ever have more than a minor title, hence his position as advisor to the Langfords. But his low consequence had made him unobtrusive during his days at the Royal Court, so he knew well how the the various alliances, feuds, and other relationships amongst the nobilty ebbed and flowed.

It was nearly a week later before Connor at last received word that his plan had been successful. It had taken a few days for Joffrey to wheedle his way to a meeting with Uther, the Chief Steward. Though technically only a servant, every cook, craftsman, maid, butler, and guard reported in some way to the Chief Steward. Consequently, Uther had personally seen that the gilt invitation to attend a celebration to be held in the King's honor at Langford Manor.

It had been a modest gamble, to be sure. So freshly returned from his campaign, the King might have declined. But Connor knew the King loved praise, so he'd not soon turn up a celebration in his honor. Plus, the King's fondness for a stiff drink was not unknown and Joffrey had no doubt been sure to mention that Connor had planned to open up a cask of 20-year-old apple brandy in the King's honor.

With but two weeks to prepare, he sent his servants into a frenzy preparing the reception hall for the impending banquet. Upon Joffrey's return, he put his advisor's talented calligraphy skills to work crafting invitations to all the nobles within the region, which he dispatched via messenger with all due haste.

All, that is, save one. After a three hour ride, Connor and a small retinue arrived at the outermost Tully guard station. Connor could see by the guardsman's face that a Langford's presence on Tully land was bothersome, the protocol of hospitality compelled him to be gracious. While the guards leisurely escorted the Langford party to the keep, a boy on a fast horse was sent ahead to inform Lord Randall Tully that Lord Connor Langford would like to pay him a visit. Connor smiled warmly at the guards, knowing how uncomfortable he was making them. But inside he chuckled, wishing he could see the aged Tully's face when he learned his family's rival was approaching his doorstep.

 
helena sat with her elderly father, in silence - not an uncomfortable or taut silence, but one they had shared many times before. Something he would recount tales of a hunt, or the historical turning points for the Tully clan, but just now, he sat, and stared into the embers of the fire.

"Is there word of my sons, girl?" he asked her, and she didn't know what to say, feeling that it was not the time to tell him. She hoped to marry before she broke the news, and she would hopefully, be more accepting of it then.

"No Sire, I have had no news, but 't'will surely come soon!"

Often, Father would lose track of the conversation, as well as lose track of time. With any luck, one of those moments might come now. As she sat, she embroderied a coat belonging to one of her brothers, but why she did so she could not say.

Then, just as Father dozed off to sleep, the door to the chamber was opened, and she was unceremoniously informed that Langford was here, on Tully land, in the keep, to be precise, and quickly, she went to meet him.
 
Connor stood in the foyer, his guards matching their Tully counterparts glare-for-glare when they thought his back was turned. The Tullys had a very comfortable keep with many tapestries and portraits. Perhaps he would make this his summer home when he took ownership.

A door opened at the back of the room, permitting the entry of a woman and a child. No, two women, he corrected. The one he mistook for a child was just exceedingly short; the flare if her hips and swell of her bosom made clear she was no mere girl. The other woman was of moderate height with mousy brown hair. Judging by her demeanor and position following slightly behind the shorter woman, she was likely a lady-in-waiting.

Connor suppressed a chortle. The little one was Tully's eldest daughter? He'd have mistaken her for the youngest were it not for her womanly curves. The thought of her as his bride sent a smile across his face. She was unquestionably attractive, but he must stand nearly a foot taller and nearly twice her weight. Her tiny waist was barely the circumference of one of his meaty thighs. To take such a petite nymph into his marital bed seemed like farce.

Banishing the mirth from his lips, he bowed from the waist. "Mistress Tully, I presume. I am Lord Connor Langford. First, let me offer my condolences on the loss of your two brothers. Having fought alongside them, I knew them to be both to be men of honor and bravery. I am sure they died well." Connor wasn't disingenuous in his praise; the Tully boys had been courageous, albeit slightly foolhardy and over-confident in their abilities. That their misfortune had provided him with a golden opportunity for his personal advancement was
but welcome coincidence.

"However, I also have more pleasant cause for my visit. I have urgent news regarding His Majesty and I felt it incumbent upon me to deliver it to my good neighbor, Lord Tully, in person. Might I have a moment of your father's time?"

 
" First, let me offer my condolences on the loss of your two brothers. Having fought alongside them, I knew them to be both to be men of honor and bravery. I am sure they died well."

Helena inclinded her head, and curtsied, as she accepted his condolances.

"I thank you, my Lord, and I accept your condolences, on behalf of the Tully family."

She paused, and then looked up at him. He was a handsome man, very much so, his shoulders broad and strong, his thighs powerful, and his arms.... his biceps were bigger than her thighs. While he wore the scars of battle, they in no way detracted from his appearance, rather, they accentuated his masculinity.

"Please join us for supper, we are about to eat."

She was wondering what could have brought him here, it was no secret they were adversaries, if not quite outright enemies.

"However, I also have more pleasant cause for my visit. I have urgent news regarding His Majesty and I felt it incumbent upon me to deliver it to my good neighbor, Lord Tully, in person. Might I have a moment of your father's time?"

She could not refuse such a request, and equally, she did not wish to reveal the degree her fathers ill health to him. She had no option, but to appeal to him.

"My Lord, my father is........ unwell, and as yet, unaware of his sons' untimely death. I would ask that you do not mention it to him - I will tell him, but in my own way, and in my own time. Please, will you accommodate me thusly?"


She looked at him, hopefully, but he seemd to be a man with a mission, and she feared he would do precisely as he wished, tempering his behaviour for no one.

"Allow me to accompany you directly to my father!"
 
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The look on the young woman's face could not have been clearer. She wished Connor out of her home. He wondered how she would feel once he made this his keep his own.

He could sense she also desparately wished to refuse to his request to see her father. But if Connor was carrying news of the King, to oppose Connor could be construed as opposing the King's business. She dare not risk such a potential insult to His Majesty.

He'd heard that Lord Tully had been in poor health, but her hesitation suggested that Tully might be far more ill than was generally known. Delightful news if true. If Tully was not just sonless and aged, but also soon to be crossing through Death's door, then the Tully lands were soon to be left in the control of this miniscule young woman. The idea that she could handle such a grand responsibility was laughable.

Connor was put in such a good mood, he almost acceded to her unspoken request for his departure. But he dare not chance anything just yet. He needed to see Randally Tully with his own eyes. So he waited impassively with his broad welcoming grin until she at last bade him to accompany her.

He followed a couple paces behind her, his long legs eating up half again more than each of her short steps. The view from behind was actually fairly pleasant. Despite her diminutive size, she had a pleasing figure. Her slender back narrowed to a tiny waist before flaring into a delicious set of hips. He watched with casual amusement as her rump swayed beneath her dress. Perhaps marriage to her would have some pleasure after all.

After a flight of stairs and several corners,she stopped at a heavy wooden door. She rapped soundly on the door and waited a moment. Hearing nothing, she parted the door slightly and called inside, "Father? It's Helena. You have a visitor - Lord Langford." Connor was pleased to at last get her name. He'd never cared a whit about the Tully daughters till last week, so he'd only a vague recollection of their relative ages, not their names. He was glad he hadn't addressed her by her younger sister's name by mistake.

Helena still received no answer from within, so she entered the room; Connor followed behind. Mullioned glass let in a hazy light of the midday sun and a roaring flame in the fireplace made the room as warm as a summer. A frail elderly man sat in a chair facing the fire, his eyes closed and a soft snoring emanating from open mouth. Lord Tully's dark hair had become white and wispy, as if a cloud had been unraveled atop his head. He looked smaller, as if he'd shrunken since Connor had last seen him two years ago.

Helena crossed to him and gently shook her father's hand. He awoke with a start, mumbling softly. Helena whispered something to him, but Randall spoke back with vigor. "Langford?! What the blazes is he doing here?"

Assuming his introduction had been made, Connor strode forward. "Lord Tully, good afternoon! I bring--"

Tully cut him off. "William?! Is this about those damn apple trees of yours? I told you before that anything on the east bank of the river is Tully land, including your blasted apples!" Apparently whatever was sapping his body had left his voice untouched.

Connor, however, wasn't as sure about the old man's mind. "No, Lord Tully, I am not here about the apple trees. You settled that dispute with my father, William, many years ago." Close to two decades, to be precise. And calling the matter settled was a bit of a stretch; mostly they'd agreed to let the matter remain unresolved provided that there was no further bloodshed. "At any rate, I am not William, but rather his son, Connor."

"Connor?" said Randall, looking confused. "But he's just a boy . . . ." Tully trailed off and Helena whispered something in his ear. A light of comprehension seemed to dawn in his eyes. "Ah, yes, Connor, of course. I'd forgotten about the passing of your father so recently. Well, then, young Lord Langford, what brings you to my door?"

Connor's father had been dead several years now, so it was clear that Tully's sense of time and memory was no longer solid. Still, he pressed on. "Lord Tully, I wished to personally inform you that King Richard will be attending a banquet at Langford Manor nine days hence. We will be celebrating the King's recent victory against the Saracen, so of course I would hope that you and your family could attend to join in the festivities."

"Ah, the King! And a banquet! Sounds jolly! I shall look forward to it!" Randall smiled, but a look of panic flashed across Helena's face. The idea of her father appearing at a gathering of the Royal Court appeared to terrify her.

"Very good, sir!" responded Connor. "I am sure the King will be as pleased as I to see you once more." Helena's glanced now at him, her brown eyes wide with fear; Connor felt a small thrill at seeing the beauty so discomfitted. "At any rate, I shall not tarry. I must return to make ready for the celebration." He bowed courteously from the waist. "Good afternoon to you, Lord Tully."

As he turned to go, he heard the old man's tremulous voice call out, "Connor, you mention the Saracen. My boys went off to fight them some time ago. Have you perchance heard any news of Johnathon or Percival?"

Connor looked back. The old man truly didn't know. He glanced at Helena. Her pretty face had gone a pale white; even her red lips had faded to a muted pink. Her eyes quavered and she gently shook her head. She made not a sound, but he could hear her plea for his silence as if she were screaming it. He paused for a moment, briefly considering the cruel temptation.

"No, Lord Tully, I have not. I last saw Johnathon and Percival on the campaign nearly two months ago, but I was since grieveously wounded and forced to withdraw from the battlefield. I have not seen them since." Helena's face softened and her entire body relaxed, clearly grateful for his discretion. Connor mentally shrugged; while his father might have delighted in hurting Randall Tully, the squabbling of two old men had never become his own personal vendetta. Let his daughter be the bearer of bad news if that's what she wanted. Connor sought not Tully's land; his suffering was irrelevant.

Tully seemed dispirited at this lack of news. He nodded and turned back to the fire. The conversation clearly over, Connor left the old man with his daughter and headed towards the keep's entrance.


 
"Father? It's Helena. You have a visitor - Lord Langford."

She looked at Langford beside her, and blushed, not wishing her father to be seen in his frailty, but she could stall no longer, and, despite the lack of reply from within, she opened the door, and showed Lord Langford in.

"Father! Father, wake up! It's Langford! Father, Connor Langford wishes to speak with you!"

"Langford?! What the blazes is he doing here?"

Her father struggled to sit up, his rheumy eyes trying to focus.

Langford began to speak.

"Lord Tully, good afternoon! I bring--"

She squeezed her eyes shut, as her father addressed Connor Langford, assuming him to be his father. He began to rant about the apple tree, that old, old discussion! She was about to correct him, to tell him that this was Connor, rather than William Langford, but Connor enlightened him before she spoke.

"Connor? "But he's just a boy . . . ."

"No father, he is grown, this is him, here and now, looking to speak with you!"

"Ah, yes, Connor, of course. I'd forgotten about the passing of your father so recently. Well, then, young Lord Langford, what brings you to my door?"


Thank God he was lucid now, or at least he appeared to be, but for how long that would continue, was anyone's guess. Langford finally began to deliver his message.

"Lord Tully, I wished to personally inform you that King Richard will be attending a banquet at Langford Manor nine days hence. We will be celebrating the King's recent victory against the Saracen, so of course I would hope that you and your family could attend to join in the festivities."

her father was delighted, looking forward to the excitement, but her heart sank. It would be awful. Father was so confused of late, drifting from present to past and back with out warning. The bery last thing she wanted was her father near the king, making a fool of himself in public.

As the conversation progressed, her discomfort grew and grew. If her father went to such a function, he was bound to hear of his sons' fate, and that would be his deathknell. She wanted to source a suitable husband for herself, someone who would be maleable, and managable who would allow her to run the castle and lands as she saw fit, as she had done now for years.

Finally, he was taking his leave, and she began to breath again, not realising until that moment that she had been holding her breath.

"Connor, you mention the Saracen. My boys went off to fight them some time ago. Have you perchance heard any news of Johnathon or Percival?"

Her heart almost stopped, and she sucked in a breath. This was it, the moment when Lord Langford woud kill her father, but, to her surprise he kept her faith, and did not relay the news they were deceased, and for that, if for nothing else, he won a modicum of her respect.

Left alone, she wondered what her father would make of Langford.

"A nice young man" her father observed as Langford left.

Helena said nothing, thinking him rather......... dangerous. He made her uncomfortable, though she could not explain why. She wondered how she would persuade her father to not attend the party with the King, but knew the family would have to attend, or it would be seen as a slight.

She could not pin point it, but she felt that Connor Langford had an agenda - one which she was, as yet, unaware of - but her family had had enough dealings with the Langford's over the years to be wary, to expect the unexpected from the cunning family - an Connor seemed to epitimize the sneaky family tendancies.
 
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The days passed quickly for the Langford estate. There seemed to be no end to the preparations to be made. Rooms had to be made ready for the small multitude of nobles who would be attending to pay tribute to the king. Similar facilities had to be constructed to house the influx of horse and servant that would accompany their masters. The cooks were soon working around the clock to make sure the banquet would be sufficient to feed the gathering. The guardsmen broke out their formal attire and polished their dress armor to a fine sheen.

And naturally Connor had to supervise all of it. He soon took to arising before dawn and going to bed well after the midnight hour. He could ill afford to have His Majesty or some influential noble displeased by their stay.

He was still checking off the last of his list when the first nobles began to arrive. Fortunately Joffrey could see to the remainder of minor items, permitting Connor to begin the usual trade of conversation and gossip with the various nobles. Connor had been well-schooled in this trade; his father had known well that it was often not the strength of a man's sword that determined his fate.

The royal retinue arrived at mid-afternoon. The King alighted from his horse and strode directly to Connor as he bowed to his sovereign. As soon as Connor straightened, the King Richard clapped both hands on Connor's shoulders and grinned broadly at him through his beard. "Well-met, my good man! How fares your leg?"

Connor restricted a grimace; though Richard was a couple inches shorter and a nearly two decades older, the King was as broad as an ox and nearly as strong. Still, it was good to know that His Majesty had not quickly forgotten the injury Connor had suffered in service to the throne. "It aches a bit in the mornings, Your Majesty, but otherwise is as good as new. How was your journey from Highguard?"

"It was a fine ride, particularly through your lands. The smell of the Langford fruit trees are quite pleasant. Still, I confess I am glad to be done. I am not so young as you, Connor, so my bones groan after so many hours in the saddle."

"Indeed, Your Majesty. Then you shall want to rest before the evenings festivities." Connor beckoned to Joffrey, who was already directing the King's small army of servants.

Joffrey nodded and bowed to the King. "Your Majesty, I am Joffrey Northington, third son of Baron Northington, and loyal advisor to the Lord Langford. Please let me show You to Your accommodations."

The rest of the afternoon consisted of similar activities as the nobles arrived. But still he did not see the one he waited for. It was not till the sun was beginning its nightly disappearance below the horizon that one of his guards brought word that the Tully contingent had reached the estate.

Connor felt a thrill of excitement. Who of the Tully household would be present? Randall Tully had appeared almost frail the week before. Could he have weathered even the short journey here? And if he had, how lucid would he be when he met the King? The future of the Langfords could hinge on the answers to those questions.

 
Helena had organised the Tully party and, as they approaced the Langford stronghold, she was filled with very much mixed emotions. She was pleased to have their short journey at an end, her father was very frail, and did not travel at all well, but on the other hand, she really did not want to be here, at Langford castle.

There was no choice thought, it would be seen as a slight to the king, had she or indeed her father, declinded the invitation. But her father, she would need to be very careful with him. He was so confused most of the time now. She could not afford for him to be seen as weak, a man who left a vulnurable chink in the strongholds loyal to the throne. Their castle was strategically placed, and it could not be allowed to fall into the hands of someone who supported the King's exiled brother.

It seemed that almsot every noble in the province had been invited, and she brightened a little, wondering if perhaps she might meet a potential husband here! Perhaps there was merit to it after all!

Joffrey met them in the keep.

"Lord Langford extends his welcome to you Lord Tully, Mistress Tully" he bowed, "allow me to show you to the chambers assigned to you!"

"I thank you" then, turning to her own servants, she pointed them in the direction of their stairs, so they could bring the luggage up, and unpack it, before being shown to the area designated for the servant accommodations.

Her father remained silent, and she was thankful, then, as they approached the door to his chamber, he turned to Joffrey.

"Is Lord Langford going to send for my father? I did not intend to poach his land! Perhaps he will allow me to go home, and I will never do it again! Do not send for my father, he will beat me soundly for such an offense!!"

Helena quickly pushed her father into the room, and pulled the door shut, before turning to Joffrey.

"Haha! My father, he loves to reminice so! He has a strange sense of humor, I advise you to pay no heed!!"


She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it. How would she get through this? She was petrified that her father might inadvertantly offend the king, or be seen as much too weak, or make their family a laughing stock. She slumped to the floor, her back to the door. She would need to protect the family's interests. There was only one thing for it, she would need to find a suitable husband, and quick. Someone outwardly strong, but who was malable, who would do as she wished.

This weekend was probably her best opportunity, so she would need to shine. With that in mind, she checked on her father, who was thankfully, sleeping soundly. She washed and dressed, taking extra care with her appearance, her rich cobalt blue gown, eyecatching, and her bodice cut quite low. She curled and arranged her hair, and clasped a necklace around her throat, and went downstairs.
 
The last minute details soon subsumed Connor, so he could not see to the Tully arrival personally. It was not until he was donning his formal evening attire for the night's banquet that he at last received the update from Joffrey.

"Really? Lord Randall Tully himself? Given how he appeared last week, I thought his daughter would have insisted her remain at home."

Joffrey shrugged, "Perhaps, but she must have realized that questions would be asked if Lord Tully failed to put in an appearance at a banquet for the King so close to Tully's home estate."

Connor nodded. "The other nobles would wonder if Tully intended an insult against the King by staying away. Such rumors, even if inaccurate, would not serve Tully well with His Majesty."

"At any rate," Joffrey continued, "Lord Tully said something most strange. He inquired whether you were going to send for his father. He was concerned that he might be punished severely for poaching on Langford land."

"His father?" Connor frowned. "But Edward Tully died ages ago. I had thought his confusing me with my father was just poor eyesight. But perhaps it suggests Lord Tully's mind is failing him instead. We shall have to act quickly. If rumor begins to spread of his situation, we will soon not be the only house eyeing the Tully lands."

~~~

The evening progressed as expected. After the nobles had gathered, the King made a grand entrance. The King graciously thanked everyone for their attendance and spoke to the crowd as was his habit. (The King enjoyed a captive audience.) Connor idly listened in, laughing and applauding where appropriate, but devoted his attention looking for Lord Tully, who should have been seated on one of the nearer tables. The King even mentioned Tully by name, along with a list of other nobles who had lost sons in the recent conflict, but Connor did not see Tully's face among those that rose in acknowledgment. Could Tully have skipped the banquet.

The speeches over, the banquet began and Connor had to devote all his attention to his nearby seatmates. As host to the celebration, he had been permitted to sit with the King, the Duke and Duchess Mitterand, and the Duchess Cornwall - four of the most powerful figures in all the nobility. Connor was now practicing politics at the highest level, so he needed every ounce of concentration to keep pace.

After the meal concluded, Connor felt as if he'd spend the time at his chopping block so drained were his energies. However, he had successfully put his plan into motion, hopefully before any potential competitors could intervene.

The nobles dispersed into smaller groups to pursue games of chance, conversation, and political intrigue. However, a sizable contingent adjourned to the ballroom for dancing. Connor, as host, had to put in an appearance. But after his session with His Majesty and the other powers, Connor looked forward to something physical.

Joffrey appeared at his side as he walked to the ballroom. "Milord, I thoroughly inspected the attendance at the banquet and it is my firm belief that Lord Tully was not among them; I suspect he never left his room. But there is more. I have seen his daughter Helena in attendance, wearing a rather . . . lovely blue dress. But more importantly, she has been conversing with the Cadderlies, the Starks, and the Wallaces. An odd collection, it would seem, but they each share one thing in common: they all-"

"-have an eldest son who is presently unwed," Connor finished for him, seeing the pattern. "Apparently Mistress Tully is wishes to control the future of her family's lands by picking her own suitor." He felt a certain grudging respect for the diminutive girl; after so much misfortune to befall her family, she refused to yield and was fighting for what was hers. "We will have to move quickly, before her actions complicate our plans. See to it, Joffrey."

Connor joined his fellow dancers and, as at dinner, found his mind heavily weighed upon despite the celebratory air. He had hoped to pursue his ambitions unopposed. But if another family could claim they already had a marriage proposal in place . . . . Bah! He must see the King this night while he yet had the advantage.

Fortunately Connor's muscles well remembered his training, so he nimbly maneuvered through the various passes and exchanges of the choreography while his mind was otherwise occupied. Consequently, he barely noticed any of his fellow dancers for the better part of an hour. That is, till on yet another turn and another exchange of partners, he found himself looking down into the brown eyes of Helena Tully.

"Mistress Tully, you look quite . . . ," he began unsure of how to conclude that sentence in a way that was neither inaccurate or unseemly. He settled for how Joffrey had described her. ". . . lovely."

The word vastly undersold her appearance. He'd been vaguely aware that she was a pretty woman when he'd met her the week before, but tonight she was undeniably beautiful. Her dark hair cascaded over shoulders in a river of curls. Her pale skin was highlighted with a slight rosiness on her cheeks that made her seem innocent and inviting. Around her slender neck a dark blue stone glittered, which lead the eyes downward to-!

He felt it suddenly hard to breathe as his gaze traveled down to her gown. He'd seen she had a fine bosom when he'd last seen her, but the plain house gown had apparently done much to conceal their magnificence. Her gown was as blue as the sapphire at her neck and the bodice was cut low and tight. From within spilled two mammoth globes, separated by a seemingly bottom chasm of cleavage. While on a purely objective scale she was perhaps only the third or fourth largest bosom in attendance, her competitors were easily twice (or thrice, in the case of Baroness Tolliver) as broad as the slender, petite Helena. That such a round and joyous pair could be mounted on such a tiny woman's frame almost beggared the imagination, yet here they bounced in front of his eyes.

"Thank you, Lord Langford," she responded, a faint smile playing at her lips. "You look quite handsome in your attire as well."

Her reference to his outfit made Connor felt suddenly grateful that the current trend in men's fashion called for a long tunic over his leggings. The sight of her sent stirrings of lust down his spine, pooling in his groin, but his arousal was mercifully concealed by the tunic's long hem.

His arousal also sent a small note of fear into his brain. He could expect no less a reaction from the men of the Cadderlies, the Starks, and the Wallaces. The Tully lands combined with such a beautiful bride would surely arouse their interest.

Connor was at a loss with what to say next. Fortunately, life intervened.

Something between a grunt and a cleared throat rumbled to his left. Turning, he saw Uther Wrynn, leader of His Majesty's Royal Guard. He was missing the tip of his right ear and bore an ancient white scar on the same cheek, giving him a fierce visage that was only matched by an even fiercer disposition. "Lord Landgren. Mistress Tully. How convenient." His tone carried as much much warmth as a snowstorm in January; Wrynn had little patience for protocol.

"His Majesty would like to speak to both your houses within the hour. Lord Langford, I presume that will be you. Mistress Tully, I have not yet located your father, so please convey His Majesty's wishes to him should you find Lord Tully first." With that, Wrynn turned on his heel and departed; he was assuredly not one for goodbyes.

Connor turned back to Helena, who seemed both confused and frightened at this turn of events. "Excuse me, Lord Langford, but I must go." She curtsied quickly and he bowed automatically in response, then the dark-haired beauty vanished into the crowd.

 
The banquet was well under way, and Helena had to admit to herself that Langford had put on an impressive spread. Several nobles expressed their sympathies on the loss of her two brothers, and all asked about her father, wondering where he was.

She shrugged it off.

"Father?" she managed a little laugh, " oh, I am sure he is here somewhere, he was following me down to the hall, but was stopped by Lord... Lord " she guestured vaguely in the direction of one of the other tables, and continued " sought him out, some query about matters at court, so I came on ahead!" She was pretty pleased with how breezy it all sounded, as though she hadn't a care in the world! She kept glancing toward the stairs, hoping her father would keep to his usual routine, and sleep for the next couple of hours.

The speeches went on and on, and she began to worry when the King addressed the assembled nobles, giving his personal condolences to all those who had lost sons and brothers in his service. Each family patriarch rose and accepted the condolences, and the time that lapsed when he addressed Lord Tully, seemed endless, and she hoped that his majesty would not be slighted by her father's absence. She resolved to make his apologies directly to the king, at the very first opportunity.

The tables were cleared to the sides of the hall, and the dancing began, and she approached the king.

Curtsing deeply, she addressed the king.

"Your Majesty, My father, Lord Tully asked me to convey his thanks for your condolences on the death of my brothers, and to apologise for his missing part of your speech .... he was.... indesposed" she managed to blush prettily, knowing that it would quell any further query the king might have. Just as she had run out of things to say, Lord Fitzhugh approached, seeking the King's counsel, and she excused herself, well pleased.

Now, the next thing she needed was to find a suitor. A few discrete enquires directed her to her prey.

She knew she looked good, she had taken care with her appearance, and she had picked a gown which framed her assets to perfection. She stood adjacent to the first man she wished to meet.

"Hugh Cadderlie, is it not?", she asked, curtsying deeply. "It has been many years my lord, but I recall you and your family visiting with us at Tully Castle, eight, no, nine years ago, not long before my brothers went to war"

"My Lady, I remember it well. May I have the honour of the next dance, mistress Tully?" Cadderlie said with a smile, and she smiled back, "Indeed my Lord, you may!" He was a man, perhaps 15 years her senior,and ..... well, frankly a little older than she wished, but he was quickly enamoured with her, as she laughed at his jests, and fluttered her eyes, and she thought he would make a fair husband, honest and reliable, if a little dull.

She made sure to catch the eye of Edmond Stark, as Cadderlie escorted her around the dance floor. He was a tall, well built man, in his late twenties, perfect marraigable age and she thought him to be an attractive man. He asked her to dance, as soon as her dance with Cadderlie was at an end. He sympathised with her on her recent loss, but he did it with a smile, and she was aware that he had his eye on the prize, that being her. It did not sit well with her, but he was a very eligible man, and she flirted with him shamelessly, leaving him in no doubt that she was seeking a husband.

She excused herself for a moment, and ran upstairs to check on her father, who, tired from his journey was still sound asleep.

She returned to ballroom, and sought out Gerald Wallace. He was certainly the best prospect. He was well built, handsome, capable, but totally focussed on her valley between her breasts, and she knew that she could manipulate him with ease. She smiled whenever he looked up from her cleavage, and she flirted with him in an almsot outrageous manner. Still, time was of the essence, and she needed to take control of her fate, before the state of her father's health became known, and the vultures began to circle.

In accordance with the protocols of the dance, she changed partners, leaving Wallace with a clear idea of her interest in him, and was still smiling, when she looked up, into the smiling eyes of none other than her host.

"My compliments on your banquet, Sir, you have done your house proud!"

She smiled, genuinely meaning what she said, and then she blushed, and accepted his compliment on her appearance, with a smile.

She was glancing around, smiling at Wallance, with what she hoped was a longing look. She critically eyed Connor, and was hard pressed to find fault with his appearance, but his greatest fault was in his eyes, in their determination, in his uncompromising approach to what he believed to be right. In short, he was a man, who knew his own mind, and while he seemed enamoured of her charms, she did not think him to be easily led about by the nose.

Wrynn interrupted them, and she was pleased with the interruption, but then he spoke, and she felt her stomach drop, dreading what was to come.

The King sought audience with her father!!!

"Excuse me my lord, I shall locate my father, and follow you!"

She hurried upstairs, and was grateful that her father was just now awakening. "Father, wake up!! The king wishes to speak with you!!" she brought over some cold water, and wet a cloth, so he could wash his face, and she called his manservant to help him dress. She escorted him downstairs, briefing him on who was there, relieved that, for the moment, at least here was firmly in the here and now.

She had his arm, and went with him to the small ante chamber, where the King was seated, deep in conversation with Langford. She whispered in her father's ear, that it was CONNOR Langford, fearing that he might confuse him with his deceased father.

"You Majesty!" she said and bowed low, and as her father made his bow, Connor stood, and showed her to the door, the King asking her to wait outside, while the men spoke privately.

She was fuming!! The nerve of that man! And Langford! Showing her to the door, albeit at the King's request. She hovered by the door, desperately trying to hear what the low male voices were discussing.
 

Connor waited till King Richard and Lord Tully had taken their seats and settled in. The King reached for a goblet of apple brandy and swilled a portion into his mouth. "Ahh, fine stuff your father produced, Connor." His smile faded. "Well, Connor, you requested this gathering. Say your peace.

Connor cleared his throat. The next moments would have far-reaching repercussions for his family.

"Your Majesty, I wish to address the current status of the Langfords and Tullys. As you may not have heard, though neighbors, relations have been strained for a few decades. You see, some Langford apple trees wound up sprouting on the Tully side of the the Brandywine River, so a question of ownership-."

The King waved him to silence. "Yes, yes, I know well this ridiculous dispute over apple trees. Tell me you haven't come to arms again over this damn fool conflict again?"

"We wouldn't be having this damn fool conflict if you'd only enforce the River Accord!" Randall Tully waved an accustatory finger at the other two men. "Damn Langfords forever trespassing on our family lands," he spat, then grumbled further under his breath.

The King frowned, but Connor continued. "No, Your Majesty, tensions remain, but no blood has been shed on this matter in decades. But what I wished to say is that though our two families have not always been of one mind, we could always reach an accord on one matter: our loyalty to the crown. Both Langford and Tully have always been willing to aid the throne."

The King nodded, "Yes, as you have both recently demonstrated in your sacrifices to the war. What of it?"

"Just that the future of that loyalty may now be in question for the Tullys. With Lord Tully's losses in the war, his house is now left to be guided by his daughters, one still yet a child and the other an unwed maiden. However capable she may be, a young maiden at the helm will not dissuade the ambitious from seeking to acquire it from her, either through marriage or force of arms."

Richard shrugged. "True. And I take it you suggest I intervene. But even with the loss of his sons, Lord Tully has time yet to set his affairs in order, does he not? Why should I intrude?"

Connor hesitated. How to put this delicate matter. Fortunately, Randall Tully came to his aid. "My sons? What the blazes are you on about, Henry? Do you have news of my boys?!"

Richard straightened in his chair; few raised their voice to the King like this. But then his brow furrowed. "Henry? Why do you address me as-?" He paused, a the light of realization beginning to dawn his eyes. "Randall, what is my name?"

"Damnit, Henry, I don't care for such games. You're Henry, Ruler of Highguard and King of Avalon. Now what is it about my boys?"

Richard sat back in the chair. "Henry was my father, Randall. My father," he murmured softly. "Excuse me a moment, Lord Tully." Richard stood and beckoned for Connor to accompany him. Standing several feet away from the muttering Randally Tully, the King spoke quietly. "How long has he been like this?"

Connor held up his palms up. "I cannot say for sure, Your Majesty. He has grown increasingly erratic in his attendance at regional social events and festivities during the past few years, so it was suspected that his physical health was failing. But as I've since discovered, it may be that his mind at issue. He similarly confused me with my father and spoke to me of an argument the two had when I was a boy as if the exchange had happened just the week before."

Richard nodded. "And my father helped mediate the River Accord he made mention of earlier."

"Exactly. Were Lord Tully at his prime, he might yet be able to manage the transition of his lands. But when word gets out of his condition, it will be seen that only a maiden stands between the ambitious and the best vineyards in all Avalon. Though I'm told she is a bright, capable woman, she lacks the experience needed to navigate such politics or to defend against an armed assault. She has already attracted the attentions of the Starks, I am told, and there is no love lost between them and Highguard. There will be others and that only heightens the chance of blood being spilt. Once that happens, you may have a war at home to wage."

The King nodded. "And I assume you suggest a solution?"

Connor swallowed. It all came down to this. "Let it be me, Your Majesty. Though Langfords and Tullys have had their tensions, we know the region well. We are both tillers of the soil, with a deep respect for the land. The Tully maiden is not officially betrothed to any suitor as of yet, so no one has a strong enough claim to contest should you announce that she is betrothed to me. I have capably led my own house these past several years and I am respected both at the Royal Court and upon the field of battle, so none would dare openly confront me over it."

Richard had bobbed his head in approval throughout. "True, you would be a fitting candidate and one I could trust. But why should the crown get involved with a simple marriage?"

"Because in recognition of the loyal service of the two families, your are elevating our lands to the Duchy of Brandywine." Connor kept his voice calm, despite the anxiety raging within.

Richard was taken aback. "You would have me make you a Duke? And you tell me to worry about the ambitions of the Starks!"

Connor spoke evenly in his response. "A Duke who controls some of the richest farmland in all the kingdom and whose kinsmen have never once hesitated in their loyalty to Highguard."

Richard's frown became a grudging smile. "I do not retract my opinions on your ambitions. You are bold to ask for so much. But it was not timidity that saved by dear brother's life. Had I a thousand men with your courage, I could rule the world." He nodded. "Very well, you should have all you ask. Duke Langford."

Connor wanted to smile in triumph, but merely bowed deeply, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

King Richard turned to Uther, who had been waiting impassively against a far wall. "Is the Tully girl still outside?" Uther grunted. "Then best fetch her. I'm sure she'd like to meet her husband to be."


 
Helena inched closer and closer to he closed door, attracting the attention of the kings guards. She smiled at them, and batted her eyelids, bending on the premise of attending to her slipper, but knowing the men's eyes would be drawn to her breasts as her low cut gown struggled to contain them.

She heard her father's voice, raised.

" What the blazes are you on about, Henry? Do you have news of my boys?!"

Her heart sank. Father! Please! Do not offend the crown!! she thought desperately. The Kings voice was pitched low, and though she strained to hear, she could not make out what was said. Then, she heard her father's exasperated tones once more.

"Damnit, Henry, I don't care for such games. You're Henry, Ruler of Highguard and King of Avalon. Now what is it about my boys?"

Oh Father!! Would that she had been in the room, she could have guided him through the foggy minefield that was his world!! She held her breath, wondering what the King's reaction might be.

She could make out the tones of Lord Langford, who was no doubt gleefully trying to rob her of her lands. She could imagine him persuading the King to vest the Tully lands in him! Well, she would foil him!!

The men spoke in dulcet tones, and her mind raced.

Uther opened the door, summoning her inside. She went directly to her father, sitting beside him, taking his hand.

"Father, are you unwell?" she asked with concern, hoping she might make some viable excuse for his lapse from reality.

"Nonsense girl!! I've never felt better! Henry here has news of your brothers, and if I can just drag him away from Edward, whose probably still bemoaning the river accord, I shall tell you of them!!" he turned away from her, and to the King.

"Henry! Now tell me of my boys! Have they won the field??!"

Helena's heart sank, and she felt tears fill her eyes and spill, as she prepared to have her father's heart broken. She looked up at the King, silently begging him to not break her father's heart.

"Your boys have done you proud Randall, very proud indeed, and no doubt you will be reunited very soon!"

Helena smiled at the King, grateful for his kindness, yet fearing the truth in his words, and she inclinded her head in acknowledgement.

"You wished to see me, your Majesty?" she asked, with a bow
 
Helena entered the room almost as soon as Uther opened the door; clearly she had not strayed far. She rushed immediately

The King, still standing to the side with Connor, cast an appraising look at the young Tully maiden as she sat in the chair next to her father. "Humph," he muttered quietly. "She is to be your bride, Connor? Had I realized the beauty you would be marrying, I should have that compensation enough without the elevation in your peerage." He held his dour expresssion, then allowed himself a grin. "But I appreciate a skillful negotiator. I shall expect you to bring that political dexterity to bear on my behalf with the other nobles in exchange for my generosity here tonight."

Connor and King Richard's attentions were drawn back to the Tullys when Randall called out, demanding His Majesty to share his information regarding Randall's sons. Helena's face crumbled and quiet tears trickled down her cheeks. Connor knew in an instant that she had not told her father of the loss of his two sons. Or perhaps in his confused state, Randall Tully could no longer remember. Either way, she anticipated the grief the news would inflict on her father.

Connor had no desire to see the old man suffer, so he reached out a hand and touched the King's arm. Richard turned and Connor silently shook his head. Catching Connor's meaning, Richard turned back to Randall and thought for a moment. "Your boys have done you proud, Randall, very proud indeed, and no doubt you will be reunited very soon." Connor gave an appreciative smile; King Richard might be known for his battlefield prowess, but he was nimbly minded as well.

Richard crossed back to the seating area near the fire and Connor followed. Resuming their chairs, they looked across at Randall and his daughter. The elderly man was smiling, pleased at the praise of his sons from the King. Helena had wiped away her tears and seemed grateful for the King's mercy in sparing her father the harsher truth.

"You wished to see me, Your Majesty?" Helena could not curtsey from her seat, so she bowed forward instead. This put even more of her wonderful decolletage on display, which Connor suddenly found himself too uncomfortable to gaze at directly. Helena was no longer some lovely stranger, but soon to be his bride. To goggle with slack jaw at her lovely form seemed somehow inappropriate.

Richard, for his own part, batted not an eye. As King, noblewomen of all shapes and sizes bent low before him formal gowns on a daily basis, somewhat inuring him to the effect. "Yes, Mistress Tully, I do. I must speak to you of->" He paused and glanced at Lord Tully. "But before I begin, perhaps Lord Tully would like to retire? I have no further need of his service this evening and I expect he is nearly as weary as I am after this long day. Uther will see that he gets back too his quarters."

Helena nodded in her agreement and whispered to her father. Randall Tully nodded. "Yes, I could do with a rest." He stood, then bowed slightly. "Good night, Your Majesty. Lord Langford." Helena squeezed his hand and then then he strode somewhat stiffly towards the door, the dark form of Uther following close behind.

Richard reached for his goblet of of apple brandy and drained it, then poured himself another from the bottle. "I was not speaking falsely just now; I am indeed tired."

He turned back to Helena. "Mistress Tully, I would prefer to do this with more eloquence, but the hour is late and my bones ache for sleep, so I lack the patience for mincing words. Lord Tully is not well. He mistook me for my father and spoke as if the present were a time some two decades prior."

Helena responded with a defensive tone."Father sometimes . . . confuses things - faces, mostly. But he is not feeble-minded. With my assistance, he can manage quite well."

"For now, perhaps. But his times of confusion are becoming more common, are they not?"

Helena said nothing, but bit her lower lip and sadly nodded.

"I suspected as much. And perhaps you are right; perhaps he could indeed capably manage his lands until the end of his days with you at his side. But that is a luxury I cannot afford.

"You have hidden his condition well for the time being, but if I can notice something amiss, so will others. Word will spread. And he is a lord without mail heirs to succeed him.

"I shall succeed him. Mother used to manage the lands while Father was away and I have made sure things ran smoothly since Father's difficulties began. I can manage the Tully lands. Helena's cheeks flushed with emotion. Connor once again found himself admiring her courage, though not the position she marshalled it for.

"No, you cannot." Richard's tone was flat and brooked no argument. "Were your father an inconsequential noble from some county in the hinterlands, perhaps you could. But your father is confused and you are beautiful maiden barely of marital age and the Tully lands are prized throughout the kingdom. Your rivals will perceive his mind and your inexperience as weakness and will not hesitate to take your lands. Whether it is via politcal maneuvering or outright conquest."

Helena sniffed haughtily. "And that, I take it, is why Lord Langford is here? Has his political maneuvering successfully displaced my family from our ancestral home?!"

Connor frowned at this insinuation, which he felt was only partially true. Helena stood not to lose her lands, but to share his. How could she barely know him, yet think so ill of his intentions?

Richard merely shrugged at her harsh words. "That Lord Langford stands to gain by tonight's proceedings is undeniable. But Fate has conspired to turn you into a pawn. The deaths of your brothers, your father's condition, and your age and gender mean the ultimate fate of your home will be decided by someone more powerful than you. And given the importance of the Tully lands, I shall not see them fall to one who opposes me. Your family has for generations been loyal to the crown. My dissident brother still lurks in the shadows; it would be a great boon to his cause if your land fell to one of his supporters. I cannot not prevent you from being used as a pawn, but at least I can ensure you are used in my service."

Helena looked crestfallen to see her future be set by others. "How am I to serve you, then, Your Majesty?"

"Tomorrow I shall announce that I am creating a new duchy called Brandywine composed of the counties of Tully and Langford in recognition of the unwavering loyalty and repeated sacrifices of the two families. It shall be lead by Duke Connor Langford. And you, Helena Tully, will be announced as his betrothed and the soon-to-be Duchess of Brandywine."

Helena seemed shocked into silence by the enormity of this unexpected future. all. As the daughter of an earl, she was but a minor noble; as a duchess, she would be a mere hearbeat away from the royal family itself. Helena stood to become one of the most powerful women in all the kingdom. All she had to do was marry the head of her family's longest rival.

Helena parted her cherry lips to speak, but Richard waved her to silence. "That is sufficient conversation tonight. I have made my decision. So it shall be." He stood up, prompting Connor and Helena to rise as well. "It is time I retire. Congratulations on your betrothal; may your marriage produce many fine children." With that, the King nodded at each of them, then entered the doors from the sitting room to the bedchamber beyond, leaving Connor and Helena to show themselves out.


 
"Go from my sight, My Lord Langford, or should I say, Your Grace, before I push you into the fire. I have never in my entire life, met someone more under-handed, and self-serving!!! You shall regret this, mark my words, I will make you rue this day!"

With that Helena went from the room, and began to head toward her chamber. Then she stopped herself. Two could play at the game Langford so delighted in. She turned, and returned to the ball room, and took up conversation with Wallace, Cadderie and Stark, flirting shamelessly with them all, and paying special attention to Gerald Wallace.

She knew his family had served King Richard well, and they were loyal subjects of the King, and she hoped she could out smart Langford. She danced all night with Wallace, encouraging his attentions, while Connor Langford glared from across the room.

Perhaps, she might be able to wring a proposal from Wallace, securing her lands in hands strong enough to silence detractors, and Loyal to the crown. Perhaps the Tully adn Wallace lands could become a duchy instead. Ha!! That would serve that snake Langford right, and she smiled broadly, as she imagined his disappointment when he discovered he had been out maneuvered!

It was nearing dawn when dear Gerald apologised, and said he had to retire to bed, but that he had "urgent business" to discuss with her father, come morning, and she smiled, knowing that he intended to ask for her hand.

She chatted with the others, pointedly ignoring Langford, and then excused herself, as she climbed the stairs to her room, she thought she might make quite the politician herself!!
 

Connor watched Helena's retreating form in amazement. He hadn't expected her to be happy, but the absolute venom she spewed at him seemed wholly uncalled for. His actions had preserved not only her lands, but earned a massive upgrade in her personal status. Would she throw all that away merely because her grandfather had hated his grandfather?

"Quite the handful, that one," grumbled Uther.

Connor took a startled step backwards. When had he returned? Though nearly the King's age, Uther moved with the grace and silence of a cat. At Court, a whispered jest was that Uther could find a concealing shadow in the middle of the desert at high sun. The jest was always whispered because Uther really did have the knack for appearing out of nowhere and was widely known for both his his skill with a blade and total absence of a sense of humor.

"Lost her mother early on, I hear," Uther mused, showing no sign he'd even noticed Connor. ""Too much time spent with her father and brothers, I expect. Lacks that strong female perspective. " His eyes turned to Connor. "Probably could use one, yah?"

Uther lapsed into silence and Connor felt that to speak would somehow be inappropriate. He stepped towards the door. As he walked through it, Uther's voice floated to him. "Might want to take one last turn on the dance floor before you retire." Connor turned, but the sitting room behind him was empty. Or at least appeared empty. He repressed a shudder and moved away.

Connor took the last bit of advice and visited the ballroom. Many had departed since he left, but a few dozen yet remained. Many took to such festivities with gusto and would stay up till all hours. Connor was glad he had hired extra staff to make sure plenty of food and drink were available around the clock.

Admidst those remaining, he quickly spotted the blue dress of Helena Tully. After a moment's observation, he could see she was flitting between the various neighboring houses, but paying particular attention to Gerald Wallace. He caught occasional snippets of her musical laughter, no doubt her rather forceful attempts at being charming. She needn't have bothered; Gerald's gaze default focus appeared to be her bosom.

"I take it the meeting with His Highness did not go well?" inquired Joffrey as he approached.

"Things went exactly as planned with King Richard, actually. He is prepared to announce the creation of a new duchy, with me Mistress Tully, however, appears to have other ideas." He gestured towards Helena, who shot a quick angry glare in his direction before turning her attentions back to Gerald. "I can scarcely fathom it. I seize an opportunity to benefit both our families, and she treats me as if were a cat bringing her a dead mouse. How can she be so shortsighted."

"You mistake the maturity of her body as evidence of the maturity of her mind. Remember, she is barely a maiden of age. And if you will recall yourself at that age, you were prone to some rash decisions.

Connor opened his mouth to protest, but then recalled how much time he'd spent sentenced to the wood shed the year he'd turned 18. He had been a bit full of himself at that age.

"Moreover, she knows not the treacherous waters that she now swims in. Remember that your father appreciated the unseen dangers of the Royal Court and its denizens-"

"Which is why he kept you around, Joffrey; no one knows the Royal Court like you." interrupted Connor.

His servant smiled softly, "You are too kind, milord. But what I meant was that he sent you to serve at the Court for three years so that you might appreciate these dangers yourself. Mistress Helena lacks such experience and consequently mistakes what appears to be for what is."

"Lord Tully never sent her to Court?" That surprised Connor. Most noble sons and daughters spent at least some of their upbringing serving the powerful nobles as part of the Royal Court. Officially it was to to educate them on protocol, history, and leadership, but unofficially it was yet another means of establishing alliances and exchanging information - effectively a beginner's course in political intrigue.

"Indeed. He did send his sons for a few winters, no doubt expecting they would be the ones succeeding him. But his daughters he kept close to home, particularly after the loss of his wife. Perhaps if she had not passed. . ."

The reference to Helena's mother reminded Connor of Uther's comments earlier, so he repeated them to Joffrey. "Odd that you both should mention her mother."


"Interesting." Joffrey nodded. "Uther always was wise about matters of the heart."

"Uther? Wise? How would you know? The man hardly speaks."

"Not to many, this is true. But to a few of us, he does. Milord, I believe I know what he was suggesting. If you'll excuse me, I think I know just who to approach for assistance in this matter."

Connor nodded, unsure what Joffrey meant, but as always trusting in his advisor's judgment. Joffrey departed into the crowds.

The next day had by now arrived, but Connor felt unable to sleep. Weeks of planning executed to perfection, and now one impetuous maiden was attempting to throw it all away out of some misplace sense of injured pride. Disaster loomed in front of him in the form of a pretty girl in a tight blue dress and he could do naught but watch.

The dark of night was beginning to turn into the ugly gray of pre-dawn when at last Helena finished flitting like a butterfly between Cadderlies, Starks, and Wallaces. She chose a path that took her directly past Connor's position, making very deliberate her failure to acknowledge him in passing. Connor sighed; Joffrey was right - she was a child in these matters. A dangerous one at that.

At that moment, Joffrey appeared and whispered in his ear. Connor at first could not believe his words, but soon a smile replaced his frown. Yes, that just might work.

~~~~

"Excuse me, Mistress Helena," said Joffrey as he approached her in the hall. "I'm afraid I shall have to interrupt your eavesdropping to get past." The young woman leapt back from the door to her father's quarters, her right ear slightly red from having been pressed up against the heavy wood. From within came muffled sounds of conversation interspersed with occasional barks of male laughter. The very satisfied expression she'd worn on her face was replaced by q a quick blush of embarrassment, followed by a slightly quizzical expression.

"Sticky buns," said Joffrey, indicating the cloth covered plate he bore in his left hand. This didn't seem to answer her, so he continued. "I'm afraid your father has mistaken me for a butler, but I decided it was wiser to humor his request than to correct him. Would you like one?"

The young Tully shook her head in confusion, so Joffrey nodded and proceeded to the door. Knocking sharply, he opened the door a moment later. Randall Tully was in plain view, deep in conversation with man seated with his back to the door.

"Gerald!" hailed Randall Tully. "Ah, you found more! Good man! Your cook makes a simply delicious sticky bun." He paused as he saw the diminutive figure lurking behind Joffrey in the hall. "Helena? Oh, do come in, I have just hear the most wondrous news. I have just accepted this young man's request for your hand in marriage! You are to be betrothed! Oh, would that your brothers were here to celebrate with us.

Helena stepped in, a smile beginning at the corners of her lips as she approached. Her lips reached about a third of her intended grin of triumph before it froze in a rictus of shock.

"Good morning, Mistress Tully," intoned Connor. "Or do you think that now that we are betrothed, you would prefer I address you as Helena?"

Lord Tully continued rambling on. "I confess I was initally against the idea. A Langford and a Tully? Surely not! But then Maggie here set me straight. I've always been able to trust Maggie. Did you know she used to watch me when my I was but a boy and father took me to Highguard? Been watching out for me ever since, haven't you? Anywise, when she told me of the situation with the King's brother, I knew this was the right thing to do. And you'll be a duchess! Oh, would that your mother could see this. Our daughter a duchess! Oh, Helena, come over and say hello to Maggie!"

A pale figure emerged from within the confines of a chair not readily visible from the door. The woman within had hair of white snow, which matched her pale dress. The deep lines in her face marked her as ancient, clearly older than even the aged Randall Tully. But her blue eyes were lit with a fierce intelligence.

Connor cleared his throat. "Helena, please allow me to introduce Her Majesty, Queen Margaret, The Queen Mother."




 
She climbed the stairs, rather pleased with her machinations, and she was filled with absolute glee when she imagined the expression on Connor Langford's face, when he discovered his dukedome had been snatched from within his grasp!!

She walked briskly around the battlements, watching the sun creep over the horizon, before she returned toward her chamber, feeling refreshed. Light shone from beneath her father's door, and she pressed her ear to it, straining to make out what was being said. Afraid that her father might be demonstrating his now feeble mind to some important noble, or other.

"Excuse me, Mistress Helena, I'm afraid I shall have to interrupt your eavesdropping to get past."

Helena jumped away, embarassed at having been caught in the act, and one of a number of excuses flew to her, but it was pointless, the expression on his face told her that Joffrey was well aware of what she had been doing! Making excuses would serve only to heighten her humiliation.

What was he doing here, she wondered, and then she eyed the plate of sticky buns.

"I'm afraid your father has mistaken me for a butler, but I decided it was wiser to humor his request than to correct him. Would you like one?"

She stifled a smile, as she detected the faint note of indignation from Langford's right hand man, and she accepted his offer, helping herself to a bun, and taking a bite. It was delicious, and the night's dancing and scheming had honed her appetite, and she was hungry. They entered the room, and she was pleased to see her father looking so well, so exuberant!!

"Helena? Oh, do come in, I have just hear the most wondrous news. I have just accepted this young man's request for your hand in marriage! You are to be betrothed! Oh, would that your brothers were here to celebrate with us."

She smiled, let Langford top that!! but her smile froze and she all but choked on the mouthful of sticky bun as the man with his back to her turned, revealing him to be none other than that snake in the grass Lagford!!! She was livid.

"You!!!" she exclaimed, rendered speechless by shock, and unable, for the moment, to think of anything more to say.

"Good morning, Mistress Tully,-or do you think that now that we are betrothed, you would prefer I address you as Helena?"

She glared at him, unable to say what she wished because of her father's presence.

Grinding her teeth, she managed a facsimile of a smile, and in a syrupy sweet voice addressed Connor.

"Mistress Tully is my preference!"

Her father was chattering on about how pleased he was, but her mind was whirling. Perhaps all was not yet lost. Father was very confused, perhaps she could persuade him that it was Gerald with whom he spoke, Gerald who asked for her hand, not Langford. Yes! It would be tricky, but it might just work. What she needed was to get to the king, to seal the deal!!

She was brought out of her reverie, by a change in her father's tone, and the appearance of a figure in her peripheral vision.

"Helena, please allow me to introduce Her Majesty, Queen Margaret, The Queen Mother."



Helena looked at the elderly lady with horror. Her presence sealed the deal, and crushed any hopes she had for avoiding a meeting at the alter with Connor Langford.

Recovering enough to remember her manners, she curtsied low, her head almost touching the floor, as her face flamed red with anger at Connor Langford out maneuver.

"Your Majesty, it is an honor to meet you!"

She schooled her features, before she looked up. She didn't wish to offend the Queen Mother, and nor did she wish to allow Connor to see just how annoyed she was.

There was a knock at the door, and she turned quickly, grateful for the interuption, until she saw a confused looking Gerald Wallace, looking at the parties in the room. Clearly, this was not what he had been expecting. Looking around, he seemed to quickly take stock of what the purpose of the get together was, and with a flush of humiliation, and a glare at Helena, he bowed.

"Your Majesty, My Lords, Mistress Tully, please excuse me. I did not intend to intrude, and I was led to believe that Lord Tully was alone. It seems I am surplus to requirements, though I cannot regret being here now, for I see I am saving myself a whole lot of bother later. "

Gerald was clearly furious, and he turned, and began to stride away, before turning on his heel, and coming back. He shook Connor's hand, with a big smile on his face.

"My felicitations on your betrothal, Lord Langford." He turned to Helena, and with a glare he said "I wish you happy" and to Langford, he said, "and I wish you luck. You maneuver as smoothly on the battlefield, as you do in court, and I suspect you will have both those skills and more tested to the full!" and with that, he took his leave.

Helena was furious!! Langford this was all his fault!! Turning to the Queen Mother, she curtsied once more, "I shall take my leave of you, your Majesty, I bid you good morrow!" and to her father "and to you, Sire. Rest, we shall talk later!" and she kissed his forhead, then pointedly ignoring Langford, she inclined her head to Joffrey, and marched out the room.
 

""Mistress Tully." The voice was warm, but firm. Helena turned to see the Queen Mother approaching. She moved with a measured pace, her back straight and unbowed by her advanced age. As she came near, she gazed down at the shorter Helena. Her blue eyes were warm, but her gaze was penetrating.

"Walk with me a time, child," the Queen Mother intoned, holding out her arm. Though she was in no mood to follow orders, something in the Queen Mother's tone made Helena instinctively link arms with her. Queen Margaret patted Helena's hand and escorted her down the hall. ""Good. Having known your father since he could barely walk, I am glad for the opportunity to meet his lovely daughter. Did he ever tell you of the time he got into the butter churn?"

The elderly woman launched into a series of amusing anecdotes about her father's youth. It seemed odd to imagine the elderly Randall Tully as a mischevious 6-year-old being disciplined by then Princess Margaret, the future Queen of Avalon and subsequent mother to its present King.

The Queen Mother proved an engaging storyteller, so it came as a mild surprise when she stopped walking and Helena realized she was outside, the mid-morning sun shining down warmly. The pair stood next to a high brick wall covered in ivy. The Queen Mother scrutinized it a bit, then strode a few paces forward. "Here it is," she said, pushing aside the ivy to reveal a narrow wooden door in the wall. She pushed it open and stepped through.

Inside was a luscious rose garden. From wandering vines on the wall to a countless array of bushes, everywhere one looked seemed to be covered in roses in a multitude of hues fit to overwhelm the senses.

"Beautiful, is it not?" said Margaret after a minute of quietly observing. "I'm one of the few to know of its existence. He does not even let his servants here. It belonged to his mother, you see. When she fell ill, he promised to take care of it. And so he has, ever since." She knelt to sniff a large red bloom, and smiled softly. "Such an odd contrast. A brawny man who is feared on the battlefield. A clever man who is respected at the Court. But for all that harshness, he also delicately tends to flowers. Odd."

The Queen Mother turned back to Helena. ""I knew your mother. She was taller, more slender than you - more like your sister in that regard - but you share the same fiery spirit. I liked her very much and grieved after her untimely death."

"I know you could use her wise counsel during this time. As her friend, pray let me offer some of my own in her absence." The Queen Mother walked to a stone bench set amidst a trio of rose bushes and patted the space next to her.

"I am an old woman, Helena. I have known love and hate, joy and pain, anger and sorrow. Through it all, I have learned that there is but one thing worth holding onto in this world: family. Gold, power, fame - all ephemeral things. Family is the only thing worth holding onto."

"Your family needs you now. Your brothers are dead, your father's mind is adrift, and your sister is barely a maid herself. Your family is wea and vulnerable. Like wolves around an injured sheep, soon the predators will gather. If your family is to be saved, you must protect it.

"But this task is too much for you, a young maiden, to handle alone. You must seek allegiance with another family, which means a strategic marriage. I see by your recent actions you accept the reality that we must often marry not for love, but for tactical advantage. But be it from the feud between your grandfathers or just a desire to set the terms of your own betrothal, you sought to reject Connor Langford.

"I am sure you thought yourself very clever by approaching the Wallaces. Young Gerald is certainly a dashing young figure and his family is held in high regard by most of the other houses. Who better to ally yourself with, particularly when your other option is Connor Landgford?

"But the Wallaces are also staunch allies of Prince John. Oh, they are far to clever to be in any way open about this allegiance to this would-be usurper. But they never held with Henry's decision to name Richard as his successor and Richard's preoccupation with the Holy Lands has further deepened their desire to see him removed from the throne. And absent any obvious treachery, Richard cannot directly act against them or he shall be cast as the aggressor, letting John win more to his cause.

"Now young Gerald did seem rather smitten with you and certainly he has a reputation for heeding less what lies between his ears and more to that which lies between his legs. But Eleanor Wallace is no more a fool than I and easily as ruthless as John himself. Should your voluptuous figure and fiery stubborness prove too potent for her son, she would no doubt see to it that someone more tractable and less distracting were put in your place. After all, you are not the only Tully daughter."

The Queen Mother paused to let the implication set in"Would that there were not history of such villainy. But I would not put it outside the realm of possibilities for a tragic accident to befall you, leaving your sister as sole heir. And though young, she is sufficiently a maid to be ajudged old enough to marry. Think now how it might be for your sister if Gerald Wallace were taking her to his marital bed next month."

"I am not suggesting that Connor Langford is any sort of saint. He can be driven and harsh, making an implacable foe on the field of arms. He is likewise crafty and politically skilled, as evidenced by his recent manipulations that would secure himself a duchy. Perhaps he is just as ruthless and clever as Prince John.

"But before you pass judgment on him, I would have you consider a few things. First, Connor is no fancier of Richard's foreign excursisons, but he fought and bled beside his King all the same. Meanwhile Gerald Wallace and the rest of his house remained in Avalon, publicly supporting the crusade from afar while privately decrying it to all who would listen.

Second, you have lived a few hours ride from Connor your entire life, but would you have ever imagined such a masculine figure to be a grower of roses? How well do you truly think you know him?

Third, he brought about this entire situation to secure the advance of his family. You stand in a garden he has personally maintained for 20 years based on a boyhood promise to his mother. And in a short time he will swear before God to honor and protect you as his wife, which makes your family into his family.

"Given that, is Connor Langford really such a poor choice to entrust with the future of your family?

The Queen Mother patted Helena on the hand. "I have given you much to consider. I shall leave you with your thoughts." She rose from the bench and smiled. "Best wishes to you on your impending nuptials." With that, she strode out the wooden door, leaving Helena alone in the rose garden.

 
When the Queen Mother spoke, Helena had no choice but to listen, and not just because she must honor her queen, but because the old lady had a charisma about her, and she both commanded respect, and engaged her audience, in this case, Helena.

So engrossed was she in the series of anecdotes about her father's childhood, that she was surprised when she found herself outside, and even more surprised when the secret gate into the rose garden was revealed to her.

The old Queen did not lecture, but rather planted a series of thoughts in her mind, and then left, giving her the privacy to consider them.

She was furious at being manipulated by Connor Langford. That thought over-rode all else. But nor did she wish to see her younger sister taken to wife at such an early age, and she realized that while she was a good judge of people, and knew that Gerald would be easily persuaded to her bidding, she also knew nothing of his people, and, now that it had been mentioned, she recalled a few comments about his mother, Eleanor, ruling with an iron fist, which would rival any man.

As she had not had any immediate plans to seek a suitor, she had not been paying particular attention to the channels of power, and the allegiances of the various families, and she regretted that now.

Still, she was a practical girl, and there was no point in dwelling on what might have been, instead, she needed to focus on the present, and her impending nuptials. The King had approved it, her father had approved it, and the Queen Mother had witnessed her father's approval. Whether she liked it or not, she would have to proceed with the wedding, or bring shame on her father, and she would never do that.

But she would not simply leap into the arms of her husband. She was furious with him, and the sooner he learned to respect that, the better.

She was just closing the door to the garden, when a voice startled her.

"What do you think you're doing? Who allowed you in there??"

She turned to look into the furious gaze of non other than Connor Langford!
 

Connor watched the Queen Mother go after Helena. He knew not Queen Margaret's purpose. Perhaps Helena might actually listen to a woman of the Queen's experience. But he doubted it. His every attempt to persuade her of the wisdom of his plan had been met with derision and resistance. More likely she would humor the Queen Mother till she could escape. Thereafter she'd most likely seek to undo her father's blessing on the union.

Randall Tully continued to yammer away at Connor about his time as a boy in the castle. Connor attempted to listen; the man was an engaging storyteller, even if he still slipped at times and referred to him as William. But his mind kept drifting to his frustration over Tully's daughter.

What perhaps irked him most deeply was his recognition that he had for a time thought fondly of the notion of Helena as his bride. When he'd conceived of his plan to advance his status through a union of the two families, he hadn't bothered to put a face to his bride. He hadn't even recalled what the eldest Tully daughter's name was, let alone what she looked like. She was simply a tool to be used, nothing more; that did not necessitate a face.

But then having met her, he found he could not imagine another's visage in his plans Helena was undeniably beautiful, perhaps one in a generation. But he'd also initially found her personality admirable. When he had first met her and her eyes had pleaded with him not to reveal her brothers' deaths to her father, he had admired the loyalty to her family, the passion to protect the ones she loved.

It was a sensation he shared deeply, though most of his loved ones were now gone. His younger brother had died during the same scarlet fever that had taken his mother when he was but a boy of 7. His father had fallen in battle a decade later. His own wife had died during childbirth nearly 6 years ago. He had a few distant cousins scattered about, but of the Langfords proper, there was but him.

So for a moment there, he'd though of the chance to start anew. Like he, Helena was all but bereft of her family, too. Perhaps together they could forge a new family, one that he could look after cultivate into something grand once more.

He'd let himself project his dreams onto her. That had blinded him to her true self. Helena Tully had revealed herself to be an impetuous, ill-tempered child. Rather than see the rationality of his plan and how it benefited both their houses, she preferred to see his plan dismantled and he crushed underfoot along with it. Whether that damned her own house in the prospect seemed not to matter.

Consequently, he must never make the mistake of trusting her again. She'd proved far too unworthy of it.

After a third rambling tale from Randall Tully about his mischievous boyhood, Connor managed to excuse himself from the old man's presence. Tully clapped him on the back and told him there'd be plenty of time for such conversations after the wedding.

Walking the halls of Langford Manor, Connor felt drained. He had not had this many visitors in his home in years, so the near constant need to smile and offer good cheer was wearing on him. He wished for some solitude to gather his thoughts so that he might be prepared for Helena Tully's next attempt to undermine him.

His feet inexorably took him to his mother's rose garden. Lady Katherine had come from an agricultural county and had missed the flowers from her home when she married Lord William. To please her, his father had imported all manner of roses and built this rose garden for her. She had insisted on caring for it personally. "Connor, if you want something, you cannot but wish for it; you must work for it." Connor had spent many an hour hauling dirt and weeding flower beds with her as a young boy.

One of the last things she'd spoken to him about had been her rose garden. "How is my garden today, Connor? Have the buds on the western wall opened yet? Oh, that I could go out and see them; they are so lovely this time of year. You must look after the garden for me, Connor, until I am feeling better." And so he had promised. But his mother never got better, but instead withered away till she was gone.

So he had kept his word. And as his mother had done, so did he care for her roses personally whenever he was in residence. Most of the servants had no idea it existed - just Joffrey, his head groundskeeper, and a handful of his mother's former servants who still remained on staff. Occasionally a noble who had been acquainted with his mother would mention it; she would often invite visiting nobles to view her garden. But Connor had otherwise let it become his private enclave. He found the quiet of the little garden and its heady scent of earth and flower to be very soothing.

His anticipation of a moment of peace was shattered moments later. As he approached the ivy-covered wall which encompassed the garden, a figure stepped through the door.

"What do you think you're doing? Who allowed you in there??" Connor bellowed.

Helena Tully froze. Was that merely confusion on her face? Or was it guilt? What had she done? Connor felt a sudden panic. This woman had spent the past day trying to destroy his future. He shoved past her to look inside the garden, fearing she had spitefully assaulted this one treasured memory he had of his mother.

He made a quick inspection but found no sign of misdeeds. Perhaps he had caught her before she could act. He returned to the doorway and looked through it. Helena Tully stood there, giving every impression of timidity and regret. But she was surely not to be trusted.

She made as if to speak, but Connor cut her off in a voice of cold emptiness. "Hush, Mistress Tully. I have had enough of your venomous scorn already this day. You shall have plenty of time to pour your vile hatred in my ear after we are wed. And I will endure it as your husband. But I will not bear your trespass into this space again. Never enter this garden again." Connor slammed the door in her face, ending his view of her brown eyes staring at him, large as saucers.

His strength deserted him entirely at that point and he leaned heavily against the door, sliding down its rough planks till he sat in the dirt with his back to it. Was there nothing that he could have that the world would not try to take it from him? Not even as precious as this?

He sat in silence, as still as the stones, save for the tears trickling down cheeks.

 
Helena came out of the garden, thinking that perhaps there was a little more depth to Connor, than she had given him credit for. As the old Queen had said, what sort of man keep up a boyhood promise to his mother, all this time. Whatever else, he was obviously loyal to those he trusted, and he had cared deeply about his mother. At least he didn't hate women, there were many of his kind who were little more than misogynists, almsot despising women, except fo that one thing. She blushed, as she imagined that "one thing" with Connor!!

"What do you think you're doing? Who allowed you in there??"

Helena jumped almost out of her skin, giving a little yelp of surprise. Connor?? How could someone so big sneak about so?

She opened her mouth, trying to think of an explaination, but the patent fury on his face told her not to bother. He had made up his mind. Her own expression hardened, and she looked at him with disdain, a smirk on her face.

"Hush, Mistress Tully. I have had enough of your venomous scorn already this day. You shall have plenty of time to pour your vile hatred in my ear after we are wed. And I will endure it as your husband. But I will not bear your trespass into this space again. Never enter this garden again."

She was just thinking of a good retort, but the door slammed shut in her face, and she stood, staring blankly at it, shocked, but glad for this eye opening glimpse of his character.

They were to be married, there was nothing to be done about that now, but she didn't have to like it, or him! Perhaps if she was lucky, he might be killed in battle, and she would be a duchess, with a huge and powerful dukedom, in a position to take a man of her own choosing.

Still, she would have one more try, no matter how futile she knew it to be.

She went first to her father.

"Father, I do not wish to marry Connor Langford. He is my enemy, our enemy!! He has manipulated the entire thing, Father, so that he might have our land, your land. He is all but stealing it from us, and he will make me miserable!!"

Her father looked at her, for once quite lucid.

"Hush child. It is all arranged, and I'll not have you bringing shame on our family by jilting him. He is a good man, strong and powerful, he will keep our lands, and his safe from attack, you safe from attack, and your sister safe from attack. He is an honorable young man, and he is a fine swordsman, strong, and he will make powerful sons.

I have but you to carry on our line, no one to carry on my name, and yes my dear, I know..." his voice trailed off, and tears shone in his eyes, and then he looked up on her and smiled.

"Now dear, run along and find you mother!! Goodness knows where that woman has got to, boasting about her boys no doubt!!"

And just like that, the little light of lucidity went out, and he reverted to chattering about the past. she was shocked. Did her father really know about the death of her brothers?? Was this his mind's way of protecting himself??

He was adament that she marry, excited about it even, and under the impression that she was lucky to get such a catch as Connor Langford. Ha!! There was one more route of appeal.

She made her way to the king's chamber, and found Uther gaurding the door. She requested an audience, and was granted one, albeit brief.

"Your majesty." She curtsied very low, her brow almost sweeping the floor. "As you know, Connor Langford has requested my hand in marraige and..."

"Yes, yes, it already has my blessing!! An excellent match, and you have my permision to marry at once, in fact, given your father's state of health, I have recommended that you marry immediately! Now, I have matters of state to attend to and I have no time for girlish whims!"

"But.... but I dont want to marry him!!"

There was a gasp of shock, from all in attendance. The king pinned her with his gaze.

"Marraige is a union of powerful families, young lady. forget your childish ideas of love, it is something that if you work at it, it can be companionable, and it protects the state. He has my full approval, and frankly, if not for him, I might simply divest your family of your lands, and re-distribute them. They are of too great a strategic importance, to allow them to fall to the hands of my enemies, and you dear child, have no idea of the alliances, and allegiences of the nobles. You would put the nation at risk, so as to play to your silly idea of picking a husband for the cut of his clothes, or the width of his shoulders! Be gone, silly child, lest I advise Langford to leave you be, and divest the Tully's of their lands!!"

And with that, she was summarily dismissed!!

She was followed from the room by Joffrey, who patted her on the back, and went off laughing, leaving her fuming.
 

Connor eventually left the rose garden before sunset. Tonight was the elevation ceremony. He sighed. Assuming that Helena Tully had not succeeded in undermining him again.

Joffrey found him as he entered the main keep and confirmed his suspicions. "She approached not only her father but the King himself. Both rebuffed her requests.

Connor gave a grim chuckle. "I should think that a woman who yesterday threw herself at the men of three families in search of a marriage proposal would already have accepted the reality that nobles marry for strategy, not love."

Joffrey shrugged. "Perhaps she thought playing to their emotions was her only option. A poor option, but if there is no other. . ."

Connor shrugged in return. He found Mistress Tully largely beyond his ability to fathom. He proceeded to his personal quarters and attired himself in his nicest finery.

Just over an hour later, when all the nobles had gathered in the main hall for the King's surprise announcement, His Majesty took the dais. He spoke in the same clear voice he used to project to the ranks of men in his army. He similarly spoke of the values of courage and loyalty, might as he would to rally his troops.

But then Richard spoke specifically of the houses of Langford and Tully, laying praise not just at the feet of Connor, Percival, and Johnathon, but their fathers, grandfathers, uncles, and cousins. Connor was impressed at the King's intimate knowledge not only of both family trees, but also His comprensive catalog of both major and minor acts by these individuals in the service of the Throne. Towards the end, he felt a pride in his kinsmen that brought fresh tears to his eyes. Looking around the room, Connor could see he was not the only one.

"Avalon owes the Langfords and Tullys much for their decades of unwavering loyalty and sacrifice. And as sovereign, I decree that it is time that debt be paid. Therefore, I hereby announce the counties of Langford and Tully will hereafter comprise the new duchy of Brandywine, so named for its most excellent production of those libations. It is therefore my pleasure to introduce his Grace, Connor Langford, the Duke of Brandywine!"

Connor stepped forward admist careful applause and bowed before his King, who gripped him by the shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks. In so doing, he whispered to Connor, "You have made many new friends out there tonight, but you have also acquired some dangerous enemies as well. Tread carefully, my friend."

Turning back to the crowd, Richard barked forth once again. "In addition, I am pleased to announce the betrothal of Duke Langford to Helena Tully, daughter of Lord Randall Tully. In one month's time, she shall be first Duchess of Brandywine!"

All eyes turned towards Helena Brandywine where she stood, tonight in a brilliant shade of green, alongside her father. Connor considered it a small blessing that she at least had the good sense to blush and smile as the other nobles clapped and cheered.

Richard whispered to him once more. "I have done what I can, Connor. These next treacherous steps are yours alone."

The gathering dispersed into smaller groups and soon Connor and Helena each found themselves meeting a diverse cavalcade of the nobility. Many of them would barely have deigned greet them in passing the day before, yet were now extending them invites to their own estates.

After considerable time, Helena found an ebb in the flood of nobles wishing to speak with her. She seized the opportunity to sit down and have a glass of wine. She was pleased to see that Langford had seen fit to stock Tully vintages in great quantity.

As she nibbled at a bit of cheese and sipped the white wine, she felt a presence. Bracing herself for yet another baron seeking the favor of the soon-to-be duchess, she was instead surprised to see the Queen Mother, dressed yet another gown of her trademark white. Behind her, just barely visible in the lee of a pillar, Uther looked on with his watchful eye.

"Good evening, child. Barely a bride-to-be and already you are beset on all sides." She chuckled softly, then grew serious. "I know this betrothal is not one you sought, but it is one you must face nonetheless. And a heavy burden it will be; weddings are complicated affairs. As a mother thrice over, I know well how much Rebecca wishes she could be here to prepare you for your marriage and to see you walk down the aisle. But since she cannot be, please let me once more offer myself in her stead. If you will accept my aid, I shall be glad to provide it."
 
Helena stood at the top table as she was toasted by the gathering, well, her and Connor Langford, her soon to be husband. She even managed to smile, thinking that being a duchess might not be so bad, if only the Duke were other than Langford.

He had shown himself to be somewhat sharp tempered earlier at the rose garden, and he would certainly be a man of his own mind, in no way swayed by her. She held her father's hand, pleased at least to have made him proud of her, and it seemed that he grew frailer by the day, so perhaps it was a blessing that the families affairs were in order.

Queen Margaret offered to help her prepare for the wedding, and although it had been suggested that she remain in the Langford stronghold, she insisted upon returning to her own family's castle.

For the next three weeks, she spent time with her father, organised the household, and continued with life in as normal a manner as possible, her routine disrupted only by the fittings for her wedding dress.

She knew it was incumbent upon the Tully's to organise the wedding feast, and she left that task to her father's steward, Culoo. Queen Margaret had arranged the wedding guest list, and Culoo had had riders deliver the news to the surrounding families. Queen Margaret tried to impart to her the wisdom of giving her husband a fair chance, saying that in her opinion ,they would make a good match. But for Helena, she was determined to dislike him.

Her father seemed to rally as the wedding drew near, telling all in earshot that his eldest daughter was about to become a duchess, marring a fine, fine man.

It seemed to Helena that the whole world was conspiring against her, congratulating her on being betrothed to such a handsome, strong, fine, and even charming man. While even she had to concede that he was handsome and strong, a fine build of a man, she disputed the charming part. He was a bore, and she would have it no other way!!
 
Connor was initially concerned by Helena's desire to spend their betrothal at the Tully estate rather than his own. Given the enemies his elevation had no doubt created, striking at his bride while she was away might be a risk. He was therefore relieved when Helena chose the Queen Mother to serve as her mother-of-the-bride. That mean Uther and a contingent of the King's Guard would be staying at the Tully estate as well

Satisfied that his fiancee's security was sufficient, Connor was secretly pleased to have her spend their betrothal away from him. His new responsibilities as Duke proved quite taxing at first and he doubted that Helena Tully would provide any comfort, but would more likely seek to distract and undermine his efforts still further.

Instead, he devoted much of his time with his soldiers. For weeks he conducted grueling training sessions involving contingents from both houses, determined to create a unified force for the defense of Brandywine.

As Brian (now Lieutenant and commanding officer of the Brandywine light cavalry) reported to Helena some time later, "At first I thought him a fool, Mistress Tully. The Langford and Tully forces have no great fondness for each other, so I would have expected him to ease into our first joint meeting with an attempt to befriend both sides. Instead he ordered us all to don full armor and then personally lead us on a three hour march in the rain. And so he did for the next five days. Even his own men began to grumble about such harsh treatment. But I see now that was his plan from the start. By the start of the next week, no soldier cared who was Tully and who was Langford; we were all soldiers and we all complained.

"That week, we did weapon drills and he was an unflinching taskmaster. Every mistake, however minor, was called out for all to see. I thought he was a grim, heartless man at that point. When I first executed a maneuver correctly, I expected him to find some minuscule flaw in it to berate me for. But then he smiled and clapped me on the shoulder and said to all the men, 'Did you see how Brian did it just now? Do it just like that!' And so we learned that Duke Langford was as effusive with his praise as he was with his criticism. And the men worked all the harder to please him. By week's end, you'd have thought the Brandywine Brigade had existed for decades, so loyal were its soldiers.

"Mistress Tully, I cannot speak to the kind of man your husband-to-be is outside the battlefield. But he is a soldier's soldier and, with all due respect to your late brothers, the best commander I have ever served. If he asked, I'd follow him to Hell and back. And there's not a man among the soldiers who would speak differently.

Unfortunately, this separation proved much a burden on Joffrey. Naturally he had much to do with the planning and organization of the wedding. This compelled him to make the three hour ride to the Tully's each morning in order to work with Mistress Tully and the Queen Mother, then return to the Langford estate that evening to work with Duke Langford. Once he made the trip nearly six times as Connor and Helena disagreed vociferously over the color scheme.

The Queen Mother had hoped the tension between the two would fade leading up to the wedding, but just over a week away, they seemed no less willing to distrust one another from afar. "This bodes not well," she said to Uther and Joffrey. "If they continue to hold apart from one another, their enemies will sense this flaw and seek to exploit it. And if the Brandywine duchy should fracture, it will mean the end for both their houses. Something must be done."
 
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