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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 22, 2013 22:05:01 GMT -5
Oswyn eased down onto the chaise lounge with a satisfied grown, the cushions proving far more comfortable than the bedroll during the campaign and cramped cot upon the ship he had enjoyed during the journey home.
He looked out the window, across the azure seas of Shipbreaker Bay which were unusually serene this day, wondering if he would ever be able to swim in its waters again.
"So tell me of our son." he insisted, desiring to know all that he had missed in six years.
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 22, 2013 23:05:37 GMT -5
Oswyn listened intently as Amelia told him of his son, smiling at how familiar the upbringing sounded to his own childhood. There was one point that gave him pause though.
"Casterly Rock?" he queried, raising an eyebrow. "How long was your visit there?"
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 22, 2013 23:30:45 GMT -5
Oswyn attemped to push himself up, clearly troubled by the news.
"My son, the future heir to Storm's End, was brought up at the Rock?" he asked in disbelief, bothered that Theodore had not been raised among the Stormlands and its people. What kind off male role model could he have found in the Westerlands? Certainly not his lord uncle. "Did you think that was acting in my best wishes?"
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 23, 2013 1:12:58 GMT -5
"This place is your home now, empty and lonely or not." Oswyn replied bitterly. "You had not right to raise my son and heir in the West. The thought should not have entered your head once you accepted my cloak as your own."
Oswyn desperately wished he could stand at that moment, hating being in such a prone position of weakness.
"He should have been trained by Stormland knights with the air of the Stormlands in his lungs!" he exclaimed, pushing himself upright. "Taught by our maester and befriending noble children that would one day grow up to be his banner men. The lands a boy is raised in has an influence on the man he becomes. From what I have seen, the West is poison to that development and you willingly brought up out son in its midst. Do you not think my lords will whisper? Do you not think they will see your actions as a slight against them and against the Stormlands?"
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 23, 2013 5:22:18 GMT -5
"Six years that he should have been here." he said acidly, feeling as powerless now as when he had lost the use of his legs. "You are the future lady of Storms End, wife to the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. You and Theodore must set an example for the others in the land. My lords' wives were stuck in their keeps as well. Do you think they considered abandoning them for the sake of a bit of ease?"
He signed, resigned to the fact that it was done and there was nothing he could do to it.
"I do not want to fight, not on the day of my return, but in times of war you must do what is best for the morale of the Stormlands...not yourself. As do I."
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 23, 2013 6:16:56 GMT -5
He relaxed, temper dissipating then.
"I am sorry, this should be a time of bliss." he said, sipping the teas as he returned her smile. "I should not be so short with you."
He swallowed the tea, trying not to grimace, thinking that it would be infinitely better with a touch of brandy.
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 23, 2013 18:39:07 GMT -5
"The Crown and Highgarden took the lion's share." he said evenly. "But we were granted three stout keeps to our name, more than any other house received."
"Perhaps we shall visit my new keep when the region settles down. I would like to show my son what was bought with the blood of Stormlanders."
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 23, 2013 23:47:28 GMT -5
"When I am well..." he repeated, his tone hollow and melancholy at the realization he could not feel his wife's touch upon his legs.
"I felt nothing...one moment I was on the wall...then falling...then blackness. When I awoke I was as I am now."
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 24, 2013 3:40:20 GMT -5
"Very well." he said with a sigh, knowing the road to recovery would be a long one. "Between yourself, Ser Arthur, and Maester Edgar I am sure I will be on my feet in short order." he said, though with little conviction.
"A feast would be fitting, as this should be a day of celebration." Oswyn replied, squeezing her hand. "I would not miss one you have put so much effort into preparing."
In truth, he dreaded the thought of his lords seeing him in such a state, but it would look worse to stay cooped up in his room with all the Stormlands gathered under his roof.
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Hope you all are well and happy.