Post by Quenton Baratheon on May 31, 2008 15:03:08 GMT -5
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September 524
With the young Lord Tomas, his brother and sister, and Ser Roger all away at King's Landing for the Royal Wedding, Blackcrown seemed a depressing place to Ser Antony. He had assumed foster care of his brother's orphaned children, and had come to love them dearly in the year and a half since Oliver's death. The barren womb of Bella Redwyne, Antony's wife, had long-ago ruled out the prospect of him having children of his own, so he considered it his duty to House Bulwer to do all he could to maintain dear Oliver's legacy.
Finding himself at a loose end one bleak afternoon, Antony decided to take a walk out to the small Bulwer family cemetary, set on a hill not far to the north of Blackcrown. Pushing open the small iron gate, he solemnly wandered up the carefully tended path, surrounded on either side by the graves of departed Bulwers. The majority were simple mounds with headstones, however here and there were more ornate box-tombs, dedicated mainly to former Lords, weathered inscriptions in their sides.
Reaching a fork in the path, Antony took a right turn, feeling a familiar pain as the latest two memorials came into sight.
He stopped first at his father's. Lord Jackson. The jolly old man with ever a wise word for him and his brothers. Antony stood for a while, reminiscing, a smile creeping across his face at one point as he no doubt remembered something from his childhood. With a nod to the old man, he moved down the path a little further, to the final plot.
The inscription on the tomb looked rough - it had still to be softened by the warm winds and rains coming in from the coast. 'Lord Oliver Bulwer and his wife Marianne Hightower' it read simply followed by their years of birth and death. Antony sighed. Things had been calm since then. Things were good now. They would have appreciated such times, he knew. Taking a look around first, as he felt slightly foolish, Antony began to speak.
"Brother," he began, in a quiet tone. "All is well. Tomas - he is a growing up to be a good man and a just lord. You would be proud. Ben and Daniella too - fine and lovely children, the pair of them. The world is peaceful and the Far Reach still exists in a state of harmony..." He smiled ruefully, holding silence for a moment. "You are loved and missed Brother."
Thinking of nothing more to say, Antony bowed his head and stood awhile longer. Eventually, he turned on his heel and peacefully made his way back to the keep.
September 524
With the young Lord Tomas, his brother and sister, and Ser Roger all away at King's Landing for the Royal Wedding, Blackcrown seemed a depressing place to Ser Antony. He had assumed foster care of his brother's orphaned children, and had come to love them dearly in the year and a half since Oliver's death. The barren womb of Bella Redwyne, Antony's wife, had long-ago ruled out the prospect of him having children of his own, so he considered it his duty to House Bulwer to do all he could to maintain dear Oliver's legacy.
Finding himself at a loose end one bleak afternoon, Antony decided to take a walk out to the small Bulwer family cemetary, set on a hill not far to the north of Blackcrown. Pushing open the small iron gate, he solemnly wandered up the carefully tended path, surrounded on either side by the graves of departed Bulwers. The majority were simple mounds with headstones, however here and there were more ornate box-tombs, dedicated mainly to former Lords, weathered inscriptions in their sides.
Reaching a fork in the path, Antony took a right turn, feeling a familiar pain as the latest two memorials came into sight.
He stopped first at his father's. Lord Jackson. The jolly old man with ever a wise word for him and his brothers. Antony stood for a while, reminiscing, a smile creeping across his face at one point as he no doubt remembered something from his childhood. With a nod to the old man, he moved down the path a little further, to the final plot.
The inscription on the tomb looked rough - it had still to be softened by the warm winds and rains coming in from the coast. 'Lord Oliver Bulwer and his wife Marianne Hightower' it read simply followed by their years of birth and death. Antony sighed. Things had been calm since then. Things were good now. They would have appreciated such times, he knew. Taking a look around first, as he felt slightly foolish, Antony began to speak.
"Brother," he began, in a quiet tone. "All is well. Tomas - he is a growing up to be a good man and a just lord. You would be proud. Ben and Daniella too - fine and lovely children, the pair of them. The world is peaceful and the Far Reach still exists in a state of harmony..." He smiled ruefully, holding silence for a moment. "You are loved and missed Brother."
Thinking of nothing more to say, Antony bowed his head and stood awhile longer. Eventually, he turned on his heel and peacefully made his way back to the keep.