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Post by Ollie on Oct 15, 2008 21:48:01 GMT -5
Lord Reed patted the young liege lord on the back assuringly. "Don't fret over it, milord. Stay, be here, and be glad you have reason to stay. You won't find any happiness down south, especially so if you're hesitant in going in the first place."
A smile crossed his lips. "Besides, someone has to watch the North for me while I'm gone, eh?" he jested.
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Oct 15, 2008 21:50:54 GMT -5
"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell," he smiled, repeating the words he'd been told so many times. "I will stay here, unless fate should sway me otherwise. Perhaps I will stop by shortly to pay my respects, but no more than that. I can't stay away from Olenna for very long, should she get fretful. Besides, I probably couldn't do much without her," he said, in a light tone.
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Post by Ollie on Oct 15, 2008 21:55:28 GMT -5
Olander could only smile at that.
"By your leave, milord," he said, sketching a half-bow and waiting for Lucas to do the same. When they had risen, Lord Reed turned to head for the stables. "Stay safe, Gariss."
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Oct 15, 2008 21:57:32 GMT -5
"And you both," he returned. "Fair traveling, and send my regards to your father, Lucas."
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Post by Ollie on Oct 15, 2008 22:10:47 GMT -5
In the early afternoon a party of northmen depart from Winterfell, riding south down the Kingsroad.
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Post by Horas on Oct 15, 2008 22:17:23 GMT -5
Lucas sketches a similar bow, then cannot resist an informal wave good-bye. "I'll send him your best, m'lord."
Lucas turns, then hurries to catch up with Olander. Once he is in step with him again, he says, "I had another dream last night, Lord Olander. The green kind."
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Oct 20, 2008 23:06:03 GMT -5
//////
Gariss searches out Olenna, after having finished holding audience.
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Post by Ollie on Oct 20, 2008 23:28:54 GMT -5
The Lord of Wintefell eventually finds his lady wife in the maester's tower, her nose buried in a book as the kindly old maester snores softly in the next room. A partridge feather quill is in her hands and dances in the air as she jots down notes on a long list.
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Oct 20, 2008 23:35:03 GMT -5
"What do you occupy yourself so intently with, love?" he says, lightly, as he approaches. She was a welcome sight after the proceedings of the morning.
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Post by Ollie on Oct 21, 2008 0:00:53 GMT -5
Lady Olenna glanced up at her husband and smiled. "Oh, looking at ledgers and things," she said dismissively. "I was wondering if we would have enough these next few months to see about repairing the north wall of the godswood. Over winter the ice and snows widened a crack that's been there for a number of years, it looks like. I thought we might as well fix it now while we have nothing else on our plate, don't you think?"
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Oct 21, 2008 0:12:27 GMT -5
"Yes," he said, though a sense of unease was about him. "Well, our plate has been served, it seemed, my love. King Rodrick seems to have taken upon himself to ask the Lords of Westeros to pay his debt to the Braavosii," he said, with a tired tone about his voice. His hand instinctively went up to rub his temple by the end of his sentence, as his face furrowed in concentration. He remained like this for a moment, before he sighed and looked up to his wife fondly.
"Though I have chosen to only purchase a small amount of his debt," Gariss breathed, lighter. "So I suppose we just may be able to fix that crack in our wall, love." He walked over to where she sat and bent over to kiss the top of hear head, and breathe in ever so slightly to catch the scent of her hair.
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Post by Sam on Oct 24, 2008 7:06:10 GMT -5
A small group of black brothers arrive at the gates of Winterfell, seeking an audience with the Lord of the North.
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Oct 24, 2008 10:14:59 GMT -5
They are permitted through the gates, and then lead to the Great Hall by a servant, where Lord Stark is holding audience.
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Post by Sam on Oct 24, 2008 12:48:19 GMT -5
The Black Brothers walked the length of the Hall, up to where Lord Stark sat in his seat. "Greetings, Lord Stark," the leader began. "I am Dustin Ironsmith, First Builder to Lord Commander Farman, and he sent me here to speak with you about the Gifts." He looked around the Great Hall, where servants were bustling back and forth. "Perhaps we might speak a little more privately, my lord?" the northman asked politely. He was a big burly man, with a shaggy mane of brown hair and grey eyes. If he looked like an Umber, that would not be far off for the minor House Ironsmith held a small holdfast a few dozen leagues from and sworn to Last Hearth. Dustin had been sent to the Wall not for a crime, but for being a fourth son whose father had nowhere else for him to go.
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Post by Ollie on Oct 24, 2008 17:13:08 GMT -5
Lady Olenna snaked a hand up to catch her husband's and held it for a moment at the news. "We'll pay His Grace what we can, but we have to look after ourselves," she smiled, in agreement with is good decision. "Thank you milord."
Greeting the Black Brother's as the entered, Olenna coughed politely at their request for privacy. "I've my books to tend to. I'd best be off," she announced, giving Gariss a kiss on the cheek before leaving their company.
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Hope you all are well and happy.