The Fall of Marigill (closed for Poprockz)

Dremara chuckled wryly, "you would have to make quite the enticing offer for them to come here. They value their necks above all else, and you are renowned for being especially effective at disemboweling a man." It was at that point that she did her best impression of a pompous merchant. "Orson the berserker has invited us to his shores! I daresay he might cut us open if we look at him wrong, bloodthirsty beast that he is!"

She rolled her eyes before a thought came to her, "actually... Sippentus Galan is one of the merchants with the most influence, as he is the head of the Foxierre Trading Company. His wife is rumored to be quite ill, so he's always on the lookout for new herbs, medicines, and tonics. If we could meet him and his wife a reasonable distance from those shores, write up a contract, and heal her, then we would have a foot in the door with a very good backer." She took a spoonful of mousse and looked at him questioningly for his opinion.

Cillian's comment made her give him an amused look. "I think I would prefer if you melted it down to make me a huge spoon that couldn't spill anything." Was it her imagination, or were his cheeks flushed? Maybe it was the wine. Yes, probably. It was always the wine or ale.

Mousse wasn't the only dessert brought, as soon there were trays of sweet, fried breads with maple syrup on them, as well as spiced cakes. One of the most interesting desserts that caught her eye though was a tart that was made out of... some sort of very light blue berry. Was it a frost berry? Nettie took a bite of it and her eyes widened. Wow! It was sweet and sour with a slight bitter bite at the end. She had to say that it was quite delicious.

"What's your favorite dessert, Cillian?" She asked.
 
“Orson!” Roric laughed at Dremara’s impression. “She’s not wrong!”

Orson smirked, looking up at the desserts that were brought out. He enjoyed the mousse, but those cakes with syrup were also appealing to him. He took the small plate with one and cut into it. The bite was heaven on his tongue.

Orson rolled his tongue in his cheek as he thought about Dremara’s counter offer of a man and meeting him offshore. “Even if there was a way to arrange it; the waters will be too icy to travel for the winter; then it’s half the melting season” The full three weeks it took to sail from RimeHaven to Marigill “to get a message to him. Then back again” three weeks back “with his response.”

Nine or more full weeks; melting season would be over, summer in full swing, and the bay weeks away from icing over once more. Becoming too perilous for sea travel.

He frowned a bit.. “Not to mention.. Your gifts are not for sale. I doubt a man of means such as that would keep such to himself when there is coin to be made. Your secrets sold to whomever pays him; and spread like wildfire across all of Hortensia, then over the seas to the Andels and whomever it is that takes the seat of Emperor.”

It wouldn’t do. Not at all. “He could bring his wife here; you heal her with her asleep and in private. He never need know what you did or how you did it… Even then, the utmost in secrecy would be necessary.”

Pussy was Cillian’s favorite dessert; he’d fought in a battle, too. He was Kota. He deserved to do more than be envious of brown gravy on a breast! He cleared his throat at her question. “Uh..” He looked over the platter. The pastries, the frostberry tarts, he took the plate with the two spiced cakes on it and picked one up. “Well..”

He looked from the dessert platter to Nettie. “..hard to say until i’ve tried them all, right?” He took a bite of the cake that exploded in his mouth with cinnamon and nutmeg and vanilla. “Mm!” He looked down at it, examining the colors. This was good, too… if he couldn’t have his favorite.
 
That was true... She nodded. "I'm not sure if he would have his ill wife sail three weeks to get here on the off-chance we can cure her, but we can at least invite him. He does have one of the largest and most luxurious ships in the realm, so I doubt she would be too uncomfortable. We would have to make a very compelling argument though..." She took another bite of mousse and sighed. Such decadent chocolate. How did Y'Sennia get her hands on such things?

People of the Kota shared desserts, right? She couldn't help but want to share a bit of her tart with him after his comment about trying them all. Obviously he wasn't going to have the stomach to eat every dessert in its entirety, but she could share the delicious treat she herself had with him. She took a forkful of her tart and held it out for him with a hand under it just in case, leaning forward toward him in her seat.

"Try this one! It's really good as well. I think my favorite dessert would have to be eclairs. They're like sweet pastries that are filled with cream and drizzled with chocolate if you haven't had one." Nettie looked excited, obviously meaning to feed him a bite of her dessert.
 
Orson rolled his tongue in his cheek. A compelling argument, indeed. And that was something he didn’t know how to approach without outright telling them he had some sort of miracle cure for what ails the merchant. And that would have to be enough to entice a man of means, one who hasn’t made his name being easily fooled, to sail to RimeHaven. Regardless of how comfortable his ship is. Dremara was right; the man had to focus on his wife. As he had to focus on his own and her secret that could save Sippertus Galan’s. An odd conundrum. One he wasn’t used to dealing with.

It would do no good to stew on it. Finishing his dessert, Orson sat back with his cup and rolled his head to the side. Fatigue was catching up to him. His eyes casually watched Dremara, ready to retire for the night.


Cillian sipped his water, looking to the bite that Nettie offered him. “You do realize a woman feeding a man is like a Kota courting thing, yeah?” It didn’t stop him from taking the bite, but he winked playfully at her as the tart and sweet hit his tongue and he chewed it. Not bad. He washed it down with a little more wine and found himself unable to eat anything else. It had been quite the hearty meal.

“Can’t say I've ever heard of an eclair.” It didn’t sound bad. Not at all. Though his favorite at the table? “Those little cakes aren’t bad.”
 
Dremara herself was feeling rather tired. With a full belly, good company, and a warm hall, it was easy to feel like one might need to turn in for the night.

“I think it’s about time for me to retire to my chambers,” she yawned, covering her mouth with her graceful hand. With that, she stood and set her napkin on the table, pushing the chair back in as she prepared to leave. It didn’t occur to her at that moment that Orson might be joining her, tired as she was. It was their wedding night, true, but they had already consummated their union.

——

“Oh!” Nettie responded, not quite sure whether he was telling her the truth or teasing her. Though while her intentions were merely to share something she liked with someone she liked… admittedly she did like him more one would like a friend. The woman didn’t affirm his statement, but she didn’t deny it either. It made her wonder: what did courting look like for the Kota? She made a note to herself to ask someone at some point. At the moment, she was simply glad that he didn’t seem offended by such a gesture.

Thankfully he saved her from making a fool of herself by moving the conversation back to desserts. “I can make you one sometime. Baking is one of my hobbies, so I promise it wouldn’t be terrible or burnt. But if you like those cakes…” From the smell, it seemed as though they had a variety of strong spices in them, so he probably liked his desserts less mild. “I think you would really like pumpkin cake, ginger snaps, or cinnamon rolls.”
 
As the Queen rose, the men did, too. Their heads bowed. It was a sign of respect to the Chieftain’s wife. Orson nodded to them. “Get some rest soon. We’ll reconvene in the morning. If Dagris is ready for travel? We depart for RimeHaven.”

“Chieftain. Your Grace.” Roric spoke for the group, and then figured it was a good a time as any for him to get to bed.

Brannock picked his plate up. No sense letting it go to waste! He picked up the jug of ale, grabbed a few of the desserts to stack on the still half full plate, and balanced his mousse on the top. “Aye. This would taste much better naked in bed!”

“Now that’s a visual no one needed.” Fionn followed after Roric.

“Swine-Lord says what?” Brannock asked.

“What?” The men laughed at him. “...Shit.” Fionn grumbled.

Cillian also didn’t sit back down. One could tell just by looking at him how much the day had worn on him. While he’d gotten a massage? His shoulders had a slight sag to them. But he did make an effort to right himself… Nettie had been talking about baking. “I think I'd enjoy all your treats..”

That hadn’t come out right. He cleared his throat. “I..” He cleared his throat. “..the baking. The.. pastries and.. Your cookies.” Shit! The hole he continued just got deeper and deeper. “Walk you to my room- Your room!?” He corrected himself quickly.

Orson caught up with Dremara in time to offer her his arm. “Come, wife… we retire for the night.”
 
The Queen was looking forward to a nice rest. It would be nice to sleep and recharge, to let the day sink in and be ready for the new day when it came. Though when she heard Orson's statement, she found that her envisioned night of having a bed all to herself was possibly not going to be reality.

Dremara took his arm and walked with him, though she did raise her eyebrow in question. "Are you... sleeping in my quarters? I had thought you might sleep in Y'Sennia's." There wasn't an accusative tone about her question, more surprise than anything that her expectations were being subverted.

--

Cillian's comment about her treats wouldn't have been questioned if he hadn't circled back and panicked. As it was, she wondered if he had other things on his mind. And after having already entertained a lady in his room? The man's physical appetite must be insatiable. Though she supposed scouts were supposed to have a lot of stamina to do their roles properly. At the very least the slip-up meant that he thought she was pretty.

The woman let out a light laugh. "Are you sure you can walk me to my room? You seem exhausted. We may have to call back one of those ladies to escort you to your room lest you fall asleep on the way there."
 
Orson had to seriously consider what Dremara had said; that she’d expected him to sleep in Senni’s chambers. His frown came across his face before he intended it to. Her assumption was his fault. On their wedding day, he goes off to battle and doesn’t even go see her. What else is she supposed to think?

“You’re my wife.” He looked down to Dremara. He meant more by it, but he couldn’t say it here. The last thing he wanted was to be put out in the Iron Vale’s cold in the middle of the night. “And my greatest treasure; though.. It is not lost on me why you would think such a thing.” He took a deep breath, glancing over to Dremara as the hall came to an intersection and he went in the direction she indicated her chambers were in.

Reaching the door, Orson reached out and opened them, peeking inside before he gestured she enter first.



Cillian cocked an eyebrow as Nettie took a jab at him about the ladies of pleasure that were sent to Orson’s men. “Maybe. She was good with her hands.” He smirked at the thought. “I just got a shoulder massage. Firing so many arrows in a day?” He shrugged his right shoulder a couple of times. “It takes a lot out of a man.”

On a more serious note? “So.. is there a man that’s going to show up in RimeHaven, sooner or later, to retrieve you?” He said as they arrived at Nettie’s door, clearing his throat. “I was hoping the next woman I lay with would be-” He was about to say that. He really was.

“Uh..” He cleared his throat. “... Not that I…” The worst she can say is no, Cillian. “..If you wanted to.. Maybe.. Spend some time with me at some point? There’s not a lot to do in RimeHaven during the winter, but the Frostclaw Vigil is coming up. And if you wanted to sit with me during the Oaths.. I could show you all the stars I know.”
 
It was a lavish room indeed. Though it was set with blue tones and ice decorations, the room was very warm with a crackling fireplace. The bed itself was very large with dark blue covers and pillows, light blue accents upon it. The wood of the bed and furniture was white maple, intricately woven in beautiful designs. The dark blue curtains were long and thick, covering the windows effectively enough to ensure that when the morning light came, it would not disturb their slumber.

Their feet were protected from the cold from a thick, woven rug on the ground, a few smaller rugs in different places in the room. There was a table with a bowl of fruit, dried meats, and several bottles of dessert wine and mead, along with two crystal wine glasses. Two fluffy robes were laid upon the chairs at the table, one smaller and one quite large.

Dremara entered the room and shrugged, "yes, yes. Wife, light, asset, and all of that. Isn't the lady your lover though?"

-------------

She had a hard time believing that he had merely gotten a massage, but he didn't seem to be lying from what she could tell. A man's shoulders could indeed become sore after firing a weapon such as his, and he had done a lot of physical movement on top of that.

For a moment there, she wondered if he was merely insinuating that he wanted to bed her. Not that she was offended by that, but it would have been unfortunate if that was the extent of his interest. Nettie was not interested in being with a man simply for the physicality of it; she wanted to be sure that the man wasn't simply driven by lust.

Nettie had to think back for a moment regarding the event he was referring to, but she soon realized it was one of the holidays they had for courtship. He wanted to court her. She couldn't help but feel very giddy at the thought, and she tried to hold back the beaming smile that wanted to claim her lips.

"I would like that very much," she replied, opening the door to her room. A step was taken before she paused, then turned around. "Um, thank you for walking me to my room."

Before she lost her nerve, she put a hand on his shoulder, went to her tip-toes, and quickly kissed him on the cheek." That was all she could handle for the moment though, so she blurted out, "goodnight!" and disappeared into her room with the click of her door shutting behind her. On the other side, she leaned up against it and held her cheeks; it felt like they might burn her palms.
 
Orson took a breath, genuinely not wanting to have this conversation tonight, his eyes moved around the room and the day’s exhaustion was catching up with him. The fighting, the wild sex, the dinner? He tried to think of the words to say. How to answer that appropriately. “Yes.” Senni was his lover. The Queen wasn’t a fool.

“Though it is my intention to stop that now that I am married.”

Why hadn’t he sooner, then? He began to feel as though everything had gotten sidetracked, as far as Dremara went, as soon as the Whisker docked in RimeHaven. He was far from a perfect man; no one could deny that. His tired footsteps carried him to the chaise where he could unclasp his furs and laid them over the high back so they wouldn’t wrinkle.

Crouching in front of the fireplace, he added two logs from the rack and stoked it to keep the room warm throughout the night.

“I admit; I know not what to say to you.” Orson finally looked up to her. “I want you and I to have a happy life together. To raise our sons to be strong, our daughters graceful. And I've done much to damage the possibility of that since we arrived in RimeHaven.”

He cleared his throat, finally shrugging out of his tunic and pants so he could climb into the luxurious bed and laid back, a long yawn coming from his mouth and he looked up to Dremara.

“All I feel we can do tonight is rest, my wife.”



Cillian blinked as Nettie leaned up and kissed his cheek. She’d.. Like that? That’s a yes? That was a yes! She disappeared behind the door before he could ask her if she was sure that’s what she wanted. Okay, then. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, turning to go get some sleep himself. A small smile on his face.. That wasn’t a no!
 
Dremara had watched him with her arms crossed, her face an unreadable and impenetrable wall. He was honest, and that was admirable. If he had denied, she might have been upset with him. As it was, she wasn't sure what he meant when he talked about damaging things between the two of them. It wasn't as though theirs was a marriage of love after all.

"I would talk to you more of this, but it can wait until the morning. You have earned your rest, and I am also very tired." The Queen took off her shoes and approached him. "Can you help me undo my dress first though?" She turned to offer her back to him.
 
Orson just barely heard Dremara in time to hear her request. Forcing his eyes open, he clambered back up out of the softness of the bed to make his way over to her and found the offending laces. He supposed he would have to get good at this. Finding the knots, he struggled with them for a moment. "Your handmaid. Nettie?" That was her name. "She must have the most nimble fingers. Give her my compliments on her knotwork." He said in a lighthearted manner as he finally got it undone. Pulling the dress free, he helped it off of her arms.

As she stepped out of it, he lifted the beautiful dress back up and examined it. How did women wear such things? Though he also.. knew not what to do with it. When she took it, he cleared his throat and reached for the corset to begin on those laces as well.
 
"She does," she smiled slightly, "I will pass that along to her."

Once the corset was undone, she sighed in a satisfied way. She was certainly used to wearing a corset from day to day, but it did wear on her sometimes, especially with the way it restricted one's breath. The Queen rubbed her ribs absentmindedly before taking the corset and dress over to the chaise and laying them there. Now only in her slip, she went to the opposite side of the bed that he had entered and slipped herself under the covers. Normally she would like to wear a nightgown, but a slip would be fine.

Thank you for your help. Goodnight- we shall reconvene in the morning." With that, she closed her eyes and snuggled into a curled-up position on her side.
 
“Goodnight..” Orson didn’t have the energy to even gather her up into his arms to be the big spoon. He was out as soon as he hit the pillow.

The morning rolled around entirely too soon for his liking. He felt like he could sleep a full day and night and not have been satisfied. Orson’s eyes slowly opened, looking over the room and noticed that Dremara was already up. Well, she hadn’t slit his throat. That, he supposed, was a good sign. Groaning, sore, and aching, he sat up and rolled his head to the side. Dremara had healed them, yes, but such a fight would take a few days to truly wear off.

And they had to get back to RimeHaven. He had his people to oversee. Gone three winters, back for one night, and gone again for this third day. He reached up, knocking the sleep from his eyes and yawned.

Swinging his legs over and standing, Orson made for the washchamber to splash water on his face and relieve himself and he still barely felt halfway alive. As if on queue, there was a knock at the door and a thrall with coffee. Taking a cup, he drank it down and poured himself another before he made it to his clothes.

Dressed in his blue tunic and black trousers, he stepped into the bear fur lined boots and picked up his armor. Sliding the cold iron studded leather over his tunic, he yawned as he buckled it on the sides and brought his sword belt around his waist. Letting the excess braided leather fall from the knot to near his hip, he picked up the furs of the chieftain and slung them on over his shoulders.

He heard the door open once more, and looked up to see whom it was that had come to find him or check on him.
 
Indeed, while Dremara had fallen asleep almost instantly as well, she was more of an early riser. She rose from the bed and dressed in something she found having been left for her in the closet. It didn't require a handmaid to put on, being the sort of dress one simply slipped on then cinched just a bit tighter with a single tie. It was a warm one, complete with leggings and boots to wear with it. Such a thing would do well in keeping the cold away as they journeyed back to the city.

Once she had relieved herself and combed her hair, she paused near the door to look back at Orson's sleeping form. He looked peaceful as he slept, unconcerned about the days ahead. They would have their talk at some point, but she wasn't as fiendish as to wake a man from his slumber when such rest was owed to him.

She made her way to the dining hall to get some coffee and found Nettie sitting at a small table by the main hearth. They sat and drank together, chatting and waking up as thralls passed by in their morning duties.

"So last night..." Nettie began, stirring some more powdered cream into her coffee refill. It would have been nice to have fresh, but she understood that dairy was one of those things that wasn't in abundance here. "Cillian walked me to my room and invited me to watch the stars at the Frostclaw Vigil."

"Oh?" Dremara raised her eyebrow and smiled. It was good to hear that Nettie seemed to be settling into this new place, or at least finding someone to open her heart to. "Did you agree?"

The brunette nodded and took a sip of her own coffee. "Yes. I have to admit that I admire him greatly. He's dashing, skilled, and brave. More than that though..." Her cheeks went a soft pink as she continued. "He's very playful, and I like that about him."

Her statements were met with a satisfied look from the Queen, who enjoyed seeing the beginnings of a new love. Nettie was like a sister to her, so she hoped that this new page in her story would not end in heartbreak. From what she had seen, Cillian seemed to be a decent sort, but one never knew the true content of one's heart and mind until they had taken the steps into that unknown territory.

"I'm glad for you- any many would be lucky to have you," she replied, an affectionate warmth in her gaze.

----------

No thrall would be bold enough to simply open Orson and Dremara's room without invitation. Instead, the dark form of Zandrimelius was there, holding a letter. She smiled at the King and tilted her head slightly to the side, offering him the letter silently. Today, she was still in the form of Y'Sennia herself, though she had materialized a tube top and short skirt to cover herself.

If one took the note, Y'Sennia's practiced handwriting read: It is done. They are returned to their rightful place, and they were not missed. May Ursui bless their slumber once more. We will not speak of this again. I will see you for the celebrations in RimeHaven- I'll let Faagen know what must be done in preparation for your wedding feast.
 
Last edited:
Orson turned, seeing Zandy there suddenly. He took a breath, finished his coffee and approached her. Taking the letter, he opened it up to read it. This news pleased him as much as it could. He’d answer for that one day, possibly. For now? The letter, and the evidence it ever happened, went into the fireplace.

“Before you go.” Orson spoke to Zandy, looking back over his shoulder. “I need to see her. Privately.”

“She awaits you in RimeHaven.” Orson heard the melodic, sensual voice in his mind. And he was surprised by that. But when Zandy vanished? His eyebrow cocked.. Seemed he’d not have the chance to have the talk with her he wished to have before he left.. Very well.

RimeHaven
2 days later.

Orson was glad to be home. There was much preparing to do, and he stood in the grand hall where the table was set up with a map of the Iron Vale. Cilian and a few of his ravens were around the map with him this morning.

“I intend to lead a group of a few here… and here.” Cillian traced his hands along the map, taking a wooden figurine to simulate the clouds. “Judging by the wind position and the words of Ursui?” He pulled the wooden figurine along the clearings. “The best building spots for the vigil will be in this general area.”

The best viewing for the stars and the borealis and the saying of the star oath needed clear skies.

“See that you’re back in time for the hunt.” Orson smirked at Cillian. “I look forward to your report.”

Cillian nodded to Orson, tapping another of Ursui’s ravens on the shoulder to get his attention and started directing to where he wanted his group to cover. “We need to know if the Glacivyr or the Yorcs have any intentions to be in this area. Or any other manner of beast Naymeera intends to have in this area.”

“It will be done.” The Raven answered, gesturing to his men to lead them out the door.



Orson stepped out onto the deck in front of the longhouse, his breath announced by the flowing steam. Looking out over the bustling city, he watched the walls continue to be constructed. A merchant, a new one, set up in the market place. From the looks of it? A candlemaker. He hadn’t thought of that, but he was glad for it. His home village was starting to take the shape of a proper city. Something worth the respect of Kings and Emperors.

The telltale bark made Orson smile. “Kael.” He looked down to the faithful half wolf husky who had found his ball buried in the snow. Crouching down to his faithful hunting hound, he took the ball and threw it out into the snow, sending the dog running off the steps and slipping in the snow before digging around for it.

He looked back, hearing the doors open and looked back to see who would be joining him.
 
Last edited:
It was Dremara. She had a glass of mead in one hand, having found that she enjoyed the sweetness of the beverage. It gave her that pleasant buzz that alcohol gave one, but it tasted like a treat. That sweet warmth was needed, as the cold had chilled her earlier that day. While she was provided warm clothes, she still wasn't used to such a drastic climate change just yet.

The Amber liquid complimented her golden eyes as they looked upon Orson and the... dog? It wasn't a breed she had ever seen, but it didn't seem to fully be a wolf either. Whatever it was, she found it rather cute.

"Faagen tells me that preparations are coming along well," she commented, her fur-lined cloak swaying as she moved to stand beside him on the deck. Now was the time that she wanted to have their talk, but she didn't want to just jump into it- it was better to ease into such things so as not to ambush him. She assumed he knew this chat would be coming sooner or later, though it didn't have to be a bad talk. It was more that she wanted to clear things up and come to some sort of understanding.
 
Orson nodded his head. “The Frostclaw is a sacred time of year for our people. I worried we’d be delayed at sea and I'd miss it for a fourth time. I’m relieved to be present for this one. Renewing my Oath as Chieftain beneath the stars; in the eyes of Ursui.”

He laughed, watching Kael dig around in the snow, determined to find the ball of stitched boar leather. He dug around in the snow and sniffed until he got it and came running back up. Orson crouched down. “Kael.. you have to give it back.” Eventually getting it, he stood again.

Kael, with his gray, white, and black mane all swirled up, sniffed at Dremara’s hip.. And looked up at her with his piercing blue eyes.

“Here.” Orson handed Dremara the ball. “Give it a good throw. He’ll be your dearest friend.”

Kael watched the ball. Intently.
 
The ball was... slimy. And she had to make the conscious effort not to shiver in disgust. The sliminess wouldn't have been as bad if it wasn't on worn leather; the combination of the two just made it feel very wrong in her hand. Still, if it would curry her favor with the dog, then she would throw that ball for him.

Pulling her arm back, she gave the ball a good toss, the thing disappearing into the snow once more. The dog bounded after it with surprising speed and enthusiasm. It brought a smile to her, seeing such unbridled joy from the animal, and it reminded her of a dog she had when she was a child. Her name was Potato, as the princess had thought to herself that she looked like a furry little potato when she was born.

Wiping her hand on her cloak, she glanced at Orson. "So is the Frostclaw going to coincide with our wedding celebration, or are they to be two separate events? I never got much clarification on that matter."
 
Orson watched Kael, the wolf-husky mix, run off after the ball with a bit of a smirk on his face, having wiped his own hand off on his cloak before he turned to meet Dremara’s gaze as she mentioned the Frostclaw Vigil, and their wedding celebration.

“Tradition dictates that a Chieftain marries beneath the stars.” They hadn’t exactly had a traditional wedding, but that was neither here nor there. And he didn’t say more on it. “But the Star-Oaths are said there in the eyes of our ancestors; I'm sure Brannock and Roric will find some tradition for Fionn to undergo.” He chuckled..

“But, given the timing of the celebration and the holiday? It does seem appropriate that we celebrate our exchanged vows at the Frostclaw Vigil. We’ll build a longhouse with limited roofs to block our views of the stars, and there will be a bonfire and heavy furs for warmth. Many young men will ask many young women to show them the stars he knows.”

What else.. “There will be a hunt for an elusive prey; A frost boar. Nasty creatures, not typically prey at all and best avoided. Only the strongest hunters will accompany me for that.”

“Then.. like our other holidays, a feast of frost boar and tales of times past. Wishes for things to come, and appreciation for those still with us.”
 
Last edited:
She imagined that this time their challenge would be something like, 'being reborn by the snow' in which they bid him be naked and buried in the snow. Or perhaps it would be eating the cooked genitals of the frost boar for "strength and verility." Poor Fionn- that boy was in for a lot of trials before he wised up. Part of him wondered if it would spoil their fun if she had a talk with him about it, but she figured that even if she did, Fionn probably wouldn't believe her. If he did believe her, he might still insist that he wasn't going to give in to the rest of the men, that he would overcome their challenges.

Would she see the same stars as she looked upon the sky? The same stars that she looked upon from the balcony of her palace? No, they would probably be completely different. Any that she saw that were ones she knew would seem distant to her eye. Perhaps these new stars would hold the same beauty and wonder though.

"That sounds lovely," she nodded in approval. She was quiet for a few moments before asking, "are you feeling up to having a conversation with me about our future, or would you prefer I save such a conversation for a more opportune time?"
 
Orson looked down as Thane brought the ball back, reaching down to take it with one hand and scratched behind his ear with the other before throwing the ball again and sending the dog chasing after it, barking along the way. It did sound lovely, the Frostclaw Vigil. It was a wondrous night every year. And he’d missed the last three. So, especially as a married man? This year would be quite special.

He looked back to Dremara as she asked him if he was up for having a conversation about the future. This was coming; he wasn’t the best with his words, but he knew they needed to be said. And it was a fool’s hope to think she may have forgotten. He took a breath to steel himself. “What troubles you, my wife?”
 
She took a moment to collect her thoughts before starting, looking out at the snow as she did so. "So... I will endeavor to speak my mind. You and I are in a political marriage, one arranged by necessity. It is not uncommon for marriages to be used to strengthen noble houses, or to mend wounds between two families. It is a necessary political tool. For Rimehaven, my marriage to you legitimizes your rule and introduces a well-respected royal line into your own bloodline. For my own country, it means an end to the war and thus an opportunity to recover."

The Queen continued on in a matter-of-fact sort of tone. "Furthermore, we now suspect that I house the power that is needed to empower you to defeat the foes that threaten this place. I am a valuable wife for several reasons."

"That being said, I don't understand why you are choosing to end your romantic relationship with Lady Y'Sennia. It is no secret to me that you and Lady Y'Sennia are lovers. She cares a great deal for you, as you do for her. I know that you said that you are doing so out of consideration for me, which I appreciate, but such considerations do not need to be made. I give you my blessing to continue seeing her in that way as long as you continue to be discreet about it so as not to harm my reputation. She is unable to birth children, so she cannot threaten my position with a bastard child."

It was then that she turned her head to look at him, her golden eyes looking at him fondly. "Your concern for our children and family is admirable, but I assure you that regardless of whether you have a mistress, I will love my children with all of my heart. You and I will parent them with warmth and cooperation, as two partners should. I intend to love you as a friend, perhaps even as family- that will not be impacted by Lady Y'Sennia's presence in our lives."
 
Orson listened as Dremara laid it out for him. That their marriage was political and that he needn’t take steps to make her happy. To love her. To do all the things Ursui taught him to do. Not for her sake. It was troubling, to say the least, to hear her speak so. But there was more she didn’t know. And he genuinely wondered whether or not he could or should speak it.

“My wife..” How could he answer that? “..I learned last night that Lady Y’Sennia keeps a demon.” Secrecy was important, and he’d not repeat the demon’s name, but… He shook his head a little bit, that bit of news was entirely troubling. “Ursui’s teachings aren’t entirely clear on Night Enchantresses; but they are clear on demons.”

He took a deep breath. What he had to do? He had to do for himself. For his soul. Even if he somehow convinced himself to keep his promise when his time to die came? The demon was going to be a point of contention. It was a step entirely too far. He’d traveled to the world below. He’d retrieved DagenHeart’s sword.

“They’re also clear on what a husband is supposed to be for his wife; and I’ve had little successes and more failures.” He moistened his lips with his tongue. “It is my hope, one day, that you know I never intended to humiliate you. And while.. Yes, our marriage was born of a bargain made with your father to put an end to a war I waged across your homeland? It doesn’t have to remain a political tool.”

That had come out easier than he thought. As though, finally, under the light of day on this very front deck where his father had married his mother? “That.. is my hope, anyway. I can only hope it is not the longing of a madman.”
 
The Queen mulled over his words quietly, making sure not to interrupt him as he spoke. It sounded like he wanted to make the most out of a marriage he was trapped in. She could understand that, especially if his beliefs took Y'Sennia out as an option due to this demon. She had to wonder what the circumstances surrounding that were though; the enchantress didn't seem like the sort to summon demons, as she didn't seem to have a reason to do so.

When he was done, she nodded in acknowledgment. "I... do not hate you for taking me from my homeland. I hope you know that. I may have resented you at first, but in my time with you, I have come to see you not as the cruel, slavering King I had feared you might be. You took me not because you wanted to rape a defeated ruler's daughter, but because it was what was best for your country and your people. My life was never mine to do with as I wish to begin with due to the status of my birth."

Kael trotted back with the ball and dropped it at her feet. Though as she reached for it, the dog snatched up the ball and ran away happily. She straightened up and shook her head in amusement at the dog. "As far as a husband's failures, I don't see where any egregious ones. You may have taken me before our wedding night, but you took responsibility for it by marrying me without delay. You are in a position to provide me a home, food, a family, and comforts not afforded to all of the Kota due to my status as Queen. I wasn't lying in my vows when I said that I wanted to work with you as a partnership."
 
Last edited:
Back
Top