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Post by The Smith on Aug 3, 2012 14:07:19 GMT -5
Maester Lymon summons Gerold to his office.
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Post by Gerold Frey on Aug 3, 2012 14:24:30 GMT -5
Gerold arrives prompt, punctual, and obsessively neat as always.
He knocks before stepping into the office, a shade nervous. "Y-you wanted to see me, Maester?"
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Post by The Smith on Aug 3, 2012 15:15:11 GMT -5
Lymon has a pile of papers spread all over his desk, and was rifling through it looking for something, "Please come in, and have a seat." He did not look up from his work.
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Post by Gerold Frey on Aug 3, 2012 15:21:23 GMT -5
Gerold slinks quietly across the Steward's office floor and into a seat, resting his hands in his lap. His fingers thread amongst one another, and he waits in silence for the Maester to find whatever it is he's looking for.
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Post by The Smith on Aug 3, 2012 15:45:35 GMT -5
The Maester stopped looking and leaned back in his chair, "Gerold how are you finding your stay here?"
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Post by Gerold Frey on Aug 3, 2012 15:51:02 GMT -5
Gerold gives a nervous little cough to clear his throat before answering, shifting uncomfortably on his seat.
"It's, um. Very informative, maester. I think i'm learning a lot," he says. Though one might suspect he's done after that brief snippet, something about him makes it obvious that he is not. Eventually, he adds; "But, um. Sometimes the other- um. Sometimes the other children get a bit rowdy."
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Post by The Smith on Aug 3, 2012 16:47:43 GMT -5
Lymon smiled, "I know much to my own grief I am always chasing or calming or lecturing some student about their poor behavior. I want to thank you for making my life a tad easier. You are quite the example."
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Post by Gerold Frey on Aug 3, 2012 16:54:37 GMT -5
Gerold smiles back a touch awkwardly at the praise. "Thank you, maester," he says, wringing his hands a little. "-um. I try. But maester- um. Is there something else?" he enquires, obviously a little uneasy. He doubts he was called to the office just to be called an example.
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Post by The Smith on Aug 3, 2012 17:54:52 GMT -5
Lymon replied, "There is Gerald, but I wanted to hear how you thought your training was going first?"
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Post by Gerold Frey on Aug 3, 2012 18:36:30 GMT -5
Gerold grimaces. His 'training' was never going well. He'd been through it before, and he'd go through it again. Various masters at arms had each tried to set him on the road to becoming a 'proper' young man heading towards a knighthood, but he never had the flair for martial skills that he did for the academic.
"... the- the same way it's al-always gone, maester," he mumbles.
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Post by The Smith on Aug 3, 2012 18:49:37 GMT -5
Lymon nodded, "Indeed very high praises indeed. They have begged me to allow them to steal you away for the Citadel."
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Post by Gerold Frey on Aug 3, 2012 19:55:28 GMT -5
Uncertain, Gerold shuffled in his seat. "They, maester?"
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Post by The Smith on Aug 3, 2012 20:29:06 GMT -5
"The tutors who teach all the fosterlings. Your name has come up several times." Lymon replied.
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Post by Gerold Frey on Aug 4, 2012 8:01:22 GMT -5
Gerold isn't sure what to say, looking down at his feet. On the one hand, he loved to learn, he relished chasing after knowledge, whatever the form. And maesters thought him suitable... But on the other hand... he had always thought to serve his family somehow.
He remains silent, apparently finding his footwear fascinating.
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Post by The Smith on Aug 4, 2012 10:41:14 GMT -5
Lymon studied him and let him work the thought through.
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