D3 MM An uncomfortable Meeting

"
Thank you, Lord Tullyson, your generosity is appreciated.

"
As for my offer, I certainly do not wish to impoverish your people, but I believe that while friendships may be made or broken with words, they are *bound* by deeds, and the memorials of such. I mean, even the Iron Throne itself is a memorial to the unification of the kingdom, and that has lost none of its potency as a symbol of strength since the day it was formed. While I don't have the hubris to claim a godswood will carry anywhere near that significance, the point remains the same. Deeds and symbols carry a weight that mere words cannot."

"
Marriages would be the usual way."
Theomore remains as stoic as he usually were in negotions "
But seeing the lack of Coldbrook maids, that is not an option."


"
I must object to the premise that our houses ever had a dispute in need of mending, and for certain not in such a grand way as godswood represents, I rode in a tourney, for the honor and glory of the house I serve, yes, but my acts on the tourney grounds are my own, for good or bad. If it would help mend the sorrow that I extend my condolences, then so I will."

"
The dispute was bad enough for Lord Tullyson to hear 'kill' and believe 'murder', and hear clarifications and believe accusations. While I admit that I travel in gentler circles than you, Ser knight, that, to me, is deeply indicative of a deeper problem that should be addressed. I would not have such an event repeated, for this meeting was, I feel, stressful enough for all of us, and it would only be worse the next time around."

"
Are we discussing your words and their interpretation again?"
Theomore raises an eyebrow, for certain this one knew quite a lot of them, adding fancy wrapping to what he had to say, giving off a somewhat distinct feeling in his mind that the boy was hiding something, but what? Logic would dictate that the godswood was important to him, might be he had chosen his words to make Dunstan go angry so that they would later make amends? It sounded quite like something he himself might have done. Actually, he had, hadn't he?

"
Aye, we won't be bulidin' anytime in Mountain's Reach soon. If we were to do so, mountains have been generous to us and we are well provided for. What I'm offering is political support Lord Daveth. "
Dunstan said with a sideways look as he started talking about murder and killing again.

"
The decision is yours, of course, Lord Tullyson. I'm not aware of what your House's situation is like. It is simply my natural inclination that when there's a problem, to fix it thoroughly. However, if you are ruling out that possibility, then, unless you can put forward an alternative measure to do so that has not already been suggested, then we will just have to go with what we've got, and we all pray to our gods that it is enough."


(OOC: I'm unclear on the etiquette here OOC - do I actually have the right to be called 'Lord Daveth' if I'm neither the Lord nor the heir? If I don't, I'll insert a polite correction here.

Edit: According to Ser Baelon, I don't. I'll give Lord Tullyson the opportunity to edit if that was an OOC mistake before I comment IC, however.)

OOC: Lord Daveth yes, Lord Colbrook no - Lord Colbrook is only the Lord of House Colbrook. But you can be adressed as Lord Daveth, like Tyrion can be adressed as Lord Tyrion etc..

"
I'm offering you political assistance and good will. But there is no need of investment in my House at the moment, thank you for the offer. Now if House Coldbrook needs any sort of investment or help besides the support - do speak now. I am willing to listen."

(Actually, no, only a lord has that right, his heir doesn't, but it's not uncommon to use it as a honorific for a lord's sons.)

"
I believe we have been quite thorough."
Theomore's face retains it's stony quality "
You said something that my lord nephew took as a serious accusation, and this misunderstanding we cleared up. Your suggestion would imply that it was the original incident that requires some form of mending."

(Okay, thanks. That would probably be why I was confused. Daveth doesn't comment in it, then.)

Daveth ponders for a moment. "
Since you are so generous as to offer, there *is* something more you could do for us by way of political assistance, Lord Tullyson. If you would be willing, should we gain enough other support, to add your name to a request of the royal family to legitimise my brother, enabling us to regain a legitimate heir of Coldbrook blood, that would be a deed that would not be forgotten. Might that be something you would be willing to do?"

"
Your brother?"
Theomore looked quizzingly at him before remembering "
Ah, yes. I believe that would indeed be more productive than a godswood."
The fool boy had been the only unquestionable heir of Lord Tomas, a legitimization might not heal the sorrow, but the continuation of Lord Tomas' line would at least be secured.

"
I'd have to meet your brother first. It is a big thing to ask of me Lord Daveth, and I don't believe we met yet."

"
Absolutely fair, Lord Tullyson. I'll see to it. Thank you."
Daveth says, utterly oblivious of their prior meeting.

(OOC: with the minor technical hitch that Garret's player is currently missing, and we don't know if he's coming back, but whether he be PC or NPC, I'll get it done.)

"
The final thing I have to suggest would simply be that we each keep eyes open for opportunities where we could work together towards goals we both support. While I obviously cannot guarantee my father's agreement sight-unseen, he is a practical man, who will see the advantage in bringing our houses closer together, and your generosity towards us today leads me to believe that it is possible."
Just *please* have the common sense to not have your uncle lead your side of things. Ah, well. That's tomorrow's problem.

"
Fine!"
Dunstan shouted, "
This went better than expected did it not!"
Dunstan laughs it off.

"
Let us drink tonight, we'll meet at the Drunken huntsman somewhere after the feast."
the young lord says and leaves without waiting for an answer, obviously in a rush to go elswhere.

/left, see ya at the Inn:) And i must add, no way could Daveth be called a Master - I just shuffled through my book, literally all the lord sons are addressed as Lord -insert first name -. master is for master at arms, hunt, etc..

(Ah. Interesting. I took it from [url=this][/url]:

Theomore Tullison wrote:A non-knighted nobleman might be addressed as "
master"
for example, should one wish to be polite.

I'd be happy to change it, I just figured as a non-knighted nobleman, it was the most appropriate.)

"
Agreed, Lord Tullyson. On both counts."
Daveth says at the Lord's retreating back. And indeed it had gone far better than Daveth had expected, leaving him in a jubilant mood. Certainly, that was the only excuse he had for what he did next.

Turning to Ser Theomore, Daveth says. "
I cannot comment on your skill on the battlefield, but you are a worthy foe in debate, Ser Theomore."
and extends his hand to shake.

Only as he does so, does he realise his mistake.

Looking at his brother's killer right in the face, at close range, he feels a sickly ripping of his psyche, as his mask starts tearing apart from the inside.

(OOC: exactly how that appears depends on how Theomore reacts to the offer.)

"
I have a deal more years of engaging in such banter on you"
Theomore takes the offered hand with a smile, showing no reaction to the signs Daveth might be showing.

Ser Jorah had known Daveth for years and could see the change in his mood when something was bothering him. He put his hand on Daveth's shoulder.

"
I believe you have another engagement in the library."


Turning back to Ser Theomore, he nodded at him.

"
Perhaps we may meet in the competitions."

Daveth feels his mask shatter like a porcelain vase hurled against the wall of Castle Grenward.

A harsh gasp in.

The suppressed emotions, free at last, run wild in a burst of energy.

[size=85:1zmu3cru]How could you?

[size=85:1zmu3cru]He's coming for you. He's coming for all of you.

[size=85:1zmu3cru]Joren can't rest so long as his killer remains at large.

Daveth's friendly smile breaks, becomes an empty facsimile, a grimace undisguised by the sides of the mouth still pointing up.

His hand contracts, attempting, even for one instant, to escape skin contact, like his brother's blood still literally coated the hand he touched.

But it's his eyes that truly betray him.

Pain that won't end. If you hadn't killed him, Joren would be here, and my mother wouldn't be wasting away in grief.
Fear that won't stop. The only reason that makes sense is that you did it because he was a Coldbrook. I know you won't stop until we're all dead.
Hate that won't die. This isn't over. This will never be over so long as you breathe free air.

Everything we've lost since going to kill the next one this your crimes and bury you with them!

A harsh gasp out.

And the mask slams back into place, though imperfectly. The smile returns, as natural as it was before, his hand returns to a normal handshake, and his eyes relax into a calm, emotionless state, with only small tremors to mark the fracture lines.

In all, only a second or two has passed. But at such close range, that is more than enough.

"
That you do, Ser Theomore. Still, no doubt there'll be other opportunities in the future."
His voice is a bit more strained than normal, but otherwise natural.

Ser Jorah Holt wrote:He put his hand on Daveth's shoulder.

"
I believe you have another engagement in the library."

Daveth's head turns towards Ser Jorah, slightly more jerkily than normal. "
Ah, yes. Quite right. No doubt we'll meet again, Ser Theomore."
he nods a goodbye, glassy eyes unfocused.

"
I shall be looking forward to it."
Theomore is far too much experienced in lies that his face betrays any reaction, pretending not to notice and doing a very good job at it.

[We're done here, yes?]

Daveth leaves with Ser Jorah, but requests a detour back to the pavilions before hitting the library. Where, in the privacy of his tent, he steeps some Tansy in tea and gulps it down, almost scalding his tongue in his haste to mitigate the pain of the twisting feeling in his gut that started pretty much as soon as the negotiations had.

It didn't help. Daveth spent the last few minutes before he had to leave for the library to meet Ser Jorah simply sitting in his tent, going over everything that had happened, and how he'd screwed it up at the last moment.

Fuck.


(OOC: Yes. Done. I just wanted to get Daveth's self-medication out there, in case I need to refer to it later. Sorry for delay. Lost track of threads I hadn't closed off properly.)