Evening Star || Sansa Stark & Ezra Brooks

[Ezra Brooks]

Chapter Two: Dawn​

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
Sleep was bliss and harmony shattered by the soft song of mountain sparrows. The window to their bedroom left open mattered little beneath the large fur blankets that Aedan had pulled over them both just moments before drifting off to sleep. The room was cold, open to the morning mountain air, while beneath the blankets, the combination of their bodies, laid so close together, has made for a comfortable warmth that made the decision to get out of bed that much more difficult. The sunlight streams in through the open window, and from his position, lying with his head on the pillow, his body curled up like an outer shell belonging to Mary, he could see the sky was a brilliant azure, painted with streaks of color telling of dawn's infancy.

His attention turned from the sky, to the woman who laid beside him, his mind wondering back to the night before. She was his wife now, his family. He knew so little about her life, what her favorite things were, what she hated, what she loved, and yet he felt he knew so much about her. She had a strength about her that Aedan found admirable. One had to have, to be able to travel across the world as she did, to a land she's never ventured to before, and to marry a man she's never met. To have stood before him in the manner that she did, and so bluntly promise to be his within the same breath that she gave her introductions. That would be a moment that he would not soon forget, one that colored forever his impression of his wife, and the strength to be found within her small, petite frame.

She will be a good match, Aedan's mind confirmed the emotions that he was feeling, as though they needed thought and form to justify them, and he found himself wondering about her, eager to start this new day, without pretense of marriage, without a thousand eyes prying into their every action. A day where it would be just him and her, to talk, to get to know one another. Questions began to run through his mind already, things that he'd like to know, but that time hadn't afforded him the luxury to ask. Today would be the proper situation. A day of exploration, one that made him slightly excited, slightly nervous, as his mind turned from the questions that he may ask, to those that she may.

I must vow to myself, to keep myself open. We will get nowhere if I start shutting myself to her. I will answer whatever it is she asks, as truthfully as I may, no matter the difficulty. But the Light make it she didn't ask those questions that cut him too deep. There are things in a man's life that he didn't wish to dwell on, things that dwell in the past that he wishes he could leave there, or rip from himself as though they had never happened. Sins he never committed.

Surely she'd never know to ask.

"Good morning," Aedan spoke, movement along his arm, upon which her head rests, drew his attention to her in time to catch her eyes fluttering open. The viscount pressed his lips against the back of her head, drawing in breath as he did so, inviting that part of her into himself again, while he welcomed her into this new day. So this was what waking up with another was like. To be there the moment that someone joins the day, to be first to tell them of the morning, to share their first moments while sleep and dream fade. Aedan had forgotten how comfortable it was to sleep with another body warm in the night, with the steady sound of someone's breathing. It is the dawn of a new life between them. Fitting that he should be there to welcome her into it.

The cold was a trap, tying him to the bed as well as any binding could have. His face and arms told him of the morning's chill, and the inviting warmth of the blankets made him more than think twice about moving. The small sparrows danced upon the window sills, leaping in a hundred little steps as they merrily played amongst cold stone. Never before had the Viscount ever laid and watched the birds. Never before had he lingered in the bed in the morning, but rising immediately to the tasks of the day. The cold was an excuse Aedan prepared for his refusal to move from her side, if she should ask, if he should have need to explain himself.

"How did you sleep?"[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]It was not the chirping of the birds that woke her, but the vibration of Aedan's voice rumbling through the chest she cuddled with. The sensation was pleasant and welcomed all the same, though it stole Mary from the world of dreams when she realized her husband was speaking to her. Blue eyes fluttered open and a smile graced pink lips. I want to kiss him again, she realized, but perhaps he might think the gesture too forward. Would it be so taboo to touch her husband without provocation? Maybe it was better to wait.

"Good morning," he spoke in greeting, kissing her head in affection. A flood of fluttering warmth draped over her. "How did you sleep?"

"Quite well, actually. Better than I have in a long time."

It couldn't be helped. Mary lifted a hand to cup the cheek of her northern spouse, tracing her fingertips along his bearded jaw. Her eyes examined his face in the morning light, absent of fear and anxiety, still too at rest to rediscover her predispositions. His features were strong and soft, with a hardness to them too, a most attractive mix. Aedan's eyes were glimmering emeralds, the color of summer grass, like home. His lips were warm when her fingers slid over them. Mary would have asked him how he slept as well, but the distraction was there and ever-tempting, and she had grown weak over the course of the night. She placed an experimental kiss to his lips, hesitant, testing her boundaries only to find that none existed. Aedan's grip around her strengthened and the kiss was returned with equal fervor. A pinch of passion was tossed in when two tongues met and a fire was ignited in her belly, soft hands sliding over the course hair and hardened muscles of his chest, and for a moment she indulged in the morning bliss in search of something deeper.

Then came the knock at the door.

Mary instantly recoiled. She put her hand over her mouth and began to laugh, blood rushing to her face and turning her skin a pleasant pink. "Oh, gods. I'm sorry my lord--ah, I mean, Aedan." She could hardly look at him in embarrassment. They're here for the sheets, she knew, which meant that the both of them had to betray the warmth of the furs and each other's embrace in favor of clothes she truly did not want to wear. Mary slipped the nightgown back over her head and waited for Aedan to replace his breeches before calling to the door that they were prepared for entrance.

"Good morning, Your Graces," Freya said with a big smile as she entered the room with three other women. "We're just gonna gather the sheets and leave you some breakfast before leavin'. I can start a bath for you both as well, if you like."

"Th-thank you," Mary replied, her legs trembling as she struggled to stay standing. The pain in her abdomen was more than she anticipated. "I appreciate it, Freya. A-as always."[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezra Brooks]

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
"Good Morning Freya," Aedan returned her greeting, his humor good, and his voice a telling sign of it. The intrusion, which normally would have left the Viscount in a grumbling sort of mood, weighed none of his patience, as he reached stepped over to grab Mary's hand in his, before leading the pair of them from the room. The keep would be nearly deserted, with only the kitchen staff really in attendance, and they so strictly confined that it was as though Caer Danalin had been emptied. He would leave Mary from the room, but for the contorted look upon her face, which drew him to a stop. He didn't speak of it, but stood by her side, looking at her as the maid stood waiting a decision on the bath. Aedan turned his eyes to Freya, now that the bed was stripped, the sheets and blankets collected.

"No no kind lady," Aedan spoke in a gentle baritone, "I'm quite sure we can manage. Please just leave breakfast when you are finished here. I wish to show Mary around her new home a little before we eat," Aedan spoke, more so to excuse the pair of them. He turned his attention to Mary then, slowly walking beside her as they walked into the hallway at a pace that made them not seem in a hurry, but not so slow so to think there was a reason behind it. Maids were well known for one thing, and one thing only – gossip. Aedan knew full well that every aspect of those last few seconds would be contorted and twisted as it made its way from lip to ear throughout the day, so that when it finally found rest at dawn, either Aedan sang in sing song voice every word of his mouth, or the screamed and tossed the maids out bodily. One can never be sure which. But he did know what he saw crawl across Mary's face for an instant, it was pain. Well hidden, quickly disguised, but he's seen the twist of features enough in his days to know their cause.

"Are you alright Mary?" Aedan asked as they walked a few doors down from the room they now shared, his voice kept low so that it didn't carry. He didn't stop walking, but kept her at his side, and his eyes continued to watch the features of her face as they strode down the corridor. Their steps made no sound as they walked, the floor carpeted with a long strip of intricately woven rug, which ran the corridors of this section of the keep. This also helped, along with the many colored tapestries along the wall, to keep their voices secret, the thick cloth doing well to absorb whatever voice managed to escape between the two of them. "I saw what you hide, the crease that came upon your face too quickly, removed in haste. Are you ill?"

You're concerned over nothing. A small pain. Like a foolish nervous child. Aedan's mind lectured, as he pulled them to a stop at a place where the corridor crosses with another, She's healthy. Tis I who see beyond that, like a paranoid child remembering past pain. I will not think of it. I will not put into the universe that she may be ill. Had I the ability, I would tear the words from having ever come from me. I shove aside worry, embrace the happiness. I will not be a pessimestic fool.

To the right, another hall, looking much the same as the one they were in. Carpeted floors and walls adorned with painting and tapestry alike. Small tables dotted the wall here and there, bearing carved statues of the gods and goddesses, or vases that hadn't yet been filled with southern flora from Seerstone. To the left, a small section of wall, spanning the width of the rooms on either side of it, with a window at it's end. A secluded spot in the keep one which Aedan took to consider a small get away, a place to hide in the shadows, stare out of the majesty of his lands, to think. From the window one could see for miles. The world just seemed to open, as though you stood on top of it, looking down on it all. He remembered thinking, as a child, that it must be what his grandfather saw, when he looked down from heaven. The low peaks of lesser mountains, capped white and sharp, like short daggers thrusting towards the sky. Beyond that, the rolling curves of the foothills as far as the eye can see. The clouds seem to simply sit upon the land, as though you could stand on hilltop and reach your hand into them. Aedan pulled Mary into the small nook, before the half opened window.

The memory of her lips still burned upon his, pulling at his mind. She moved to the window as he had hoped, to look out onto the surface of their lands, to see it's majesty amongst the early morning light, and the Viscount moved in behind her, to wrap his arms tightly around her body, to put her back against his chest. Light, I do hope she doesn't believe me too forward. The curve of her body excited, drew the thoughts of anything, of breakfast, or pain or health, from his memory. The warmth of her bled through the thin undershirt he wore to the surface of his skin reminding him of how blissful the night before had been with her in arms. A deep breath returned to him the smell of her, stronger now that they slept, and it was all he could do to stop from spinning her around there, and silencing her surprised protest to his actions with a hungry kiss to her lips.
[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]His inquiry to her well-being brought a pained smile to Mary's sleepy face, and when the newlyweds stopped in the small alcove she was quick to assure him of her status. "I'm just a bit sore," Mary admitted with a flush of her cheeks. "From last night. And nauseous. I often wake in the morning feeling ill." What if he thinks me to be damaged goods? Did the king mention my affliction? She hardly thought Aedan McKenna was the kind of man to thwart a woman just for complications of the abdomen. He was gentler than that, nobler. Besides, as the king and her parents had said, Aedan will like her because she is pretty and dutiful and obedient and fertile. Not because of her stomach problems. Maybe it's irrelevant information after all, she decided. If he doesn't spend much time with me, he may not even notice.

But of course, Mary's thoughts were entirely distracted by the glittering mountains, awakened by the kiss of the sun in all their majesty. A gasp escaped her lips before another, more intimate one followed the touch of Aedan pulling her close to him. His chest felt like a brick wall against her back, his hands rough and gentle as they slid around her frame. She couldn't help but giggle as he rested his chin atop her head, the height difference between them allowing him to do so without obstruction. Mary placed one hand over his, the other pointing out towards the jutting rock and cliff through the glass and beyond.

"Those are the Silver Mountains, aren't they?" she asked with a happy sigh. "I read all about them in my books on the way here. It's said that the first men to settle here named them the Silver Mountains not for the way that they appeared in the sun--a common misconception--but because there was once a silver dragon that lived in the mines. It was a friendly dragon that shared it's riches and provided fire to the first stonemasons of this place. I don't know how many northerners believe that story, but it was an interesting read." Mary chuckled and pointed to a distant town, nestled at the nap of an adjacent mountain. "That's Sheredeth, a mining town that provides iron for our people. Not a very large town, but it's said that they are hardy and loyal people who would follow your family into battle, even to death. I hope they follow our future sons so valiantly, that they are worthy of such devotion. Oh! And finally," she added, pointing her finger towards a dim star, still faintly present despite the glow of the morning sun. "That's the Evening Star, for which the region gets it's name. The legend says that the Light Itself blessed this star to save the lives of young children lost in the snow. 'Follow it,' he told them, 'and you will always be led home.' The star was supposedly able to be seen by the entirety of Farlonde at one point, but now it is only here. That's how Evening Star gets its borders. As soon as the light can't be seen, you are no longer in the north."

Mary let her hand fall atop his, humming in contentment before turning to face her husband. He was even more handsome in the morning light, a soft smile settling on her lips at the sight of him. "I read a lot of books on my way here," she said in self-defense accompanied by a little laugh of embarrassment. "I love reading. I wanted to know as much as I could about this place before I became the wife of it's leader. Very different from home, but fascinating. I'm positive I will grow to love it."

And now I'm blabbing again. A small part of her wished to give her mouth something to do other than talk--to kiss him? Yes, a good choice--but she was far too modest to initiate quite yet. The young bride rested her hands on his chest and toyed with the strings on his tunic absentmindedly.

"Your people love you, and you are loyal to them. Even if you had been terribly ugly and uninterested, which you are not, I would find that admirable about you and respect you for it. Not many lords care for their people, yet everyone I have encountered has told me of your bravery, of your loyalty and compassion. Not a single person gave me warning against you. Not one."[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezra Brooks]

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
Aedan could only smile as he heard her recant the history of his home, feeling his heart swell with a particular pride in the knowledge that she, in preparation for her life here, brought it upon herself to understand his people in a way far less conventional than most. She sought to learn of their history, their past, their beliefs. Did she understand how important the symbolisms that she spoke of were to his people? Did she understand just how much it would mean to them to learn that she took it upon herself to learn their stories. He watched as she pointed to the iron town, giving it name, growing wider the smile on his face, and the eagerness in him to speak, to tell her more about her home. Perhaps it wasn't all written in the stories that she read. He wasn't sure which books came into her possession, which truths she knew, but Aedan had grown up with these tales. The need to share was like the waters of a dam, threatening to tear him apart if he didn't open up.

"Sheredeth is more than a simple mining town," He spoke, bringing slight interruption with a soft tone. "but the home of the very dragon you mentioned earlier. In the old world, in her time, Sheredeth called the town Likandreal. When the great beast died," Aedan continued, pointing to a large flat plane on the mountain outside the town. It was a large sheer face of rock, as flat as a table, barren of house or field.."right there, it is said that in honor of their fallen friend, the people of Likandreal adopted the dragon's name as their own in honor of their most stalwart protector. So not only do the mountains bear the title of the magnificent beast, but the town does as well."

She turned in his arms, and as she spoke to him, his emerald eyes bore down into hers. As she spoke, he brought a hand up to touch upon her face, to caress gently at her slender cheek with the tips of his fingers, sweeping a caress along her jaw, until his fingers found their soft nest in the threads of her hair, her chin resting in his palm. He tilted up her head, ever so slightly, and as though eagerness couldn't be expressed in any other fashion, bore his lips down upon hers. There was a warmth within that made him draw breath, pulling in her scent. A warmth that radiated outward from the depths of his soul, until it consumed all that he was, as though within him a fount of the Light's grace had suddenly taken root.

Had I ever doubted the presence of the Light in my life, I do not now.

"My people will come to love you as well. You do them great honor by learning of them," He took her hand in his, brought it up to his lips, and pressed her knuckles to them. He let her return to the window, looking out over their world together, returning his arms to their place at her waist. There are so many stories he could tell her, so rich the heritage of his people, that they could consume the day with it, standing there in each other's warmth.

"One day, I will take you there. There is a cave in the depth of the mountain, believed by many to have belonged to Sheredeth herself. It is a massive structure of crystalized rock where they say that the tiniest flame glows like a thousand suns, and once a year, when the heavens align right with the world, and the light of the Evening Star is strongest, her rays reach into that cavern. Words do not express its beauty. But come for now, we should to breakfast, and then there is more I would show you of your new home."
[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]When the Viscount mentioned breakfast, her stomach began to grumble and ache with the need for morning nutrition. She was happy to oblige. The thought of food was simply too powerful to resist. Mary and her husband reentered their chambers to the sight of a fresh set of breakfast for the them both, as well as clean sheets and blankets for their marriage bed. The smells of fresh bacon and sausages with eggs, peppers, onions and leeks filled her senses with wonder, and she was quick to set herself a plate. The two ate their morning meal mostly in silence, though between eager chewing they would speak of affairs of state, the love of the people and the typical goings-on for the entire realm of Evening Star. He told her about a number of things, such as popular farms and wine-tasting plants, balls and galas that were held each year, harvest festivals and celebrations for the new moon as well as a yearly vigil for loved ones lost. Most of those things she had read in books collected across her journey, but some of the information was new and exciting and Mary drank it in like a sponge. She wanted to know the land she married, better acquaint herself with the people who loved her dear husband just as much as she was starting to. The affection in his eyes when he spoke of the north was evident in all that he said and did, and it inspired her to better prepare herself for the task of being a leader's bride. It would be no easy thing.

When their meal was all but finished, Mary proactively took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I could use a bath, actually. Before we continue my tour, might I have a chance to clean and dress?" As she was given approval, Mary skittered off into the bathroom attached to their rather large quarters, her eyes meeting a great tub nearly six feet in each direction, filled with steaming water. She didn't want to wait for her sweet husband, if he decided to join her at all--perhaps men were more gracious with offering space, or maybe he wanted some time to himself. It mattered little. She pulled the nightgown from her naked body and stepped into the enrapturing heat of the water's grace, humming in great content as her skin prickled, eyes closing. She sank deeper into the in-floor tub and dunked her head under, popping out of the water's surface with the smallest of giggles.

"It's almost like a hot spring," she observed to herself, reaching across to take a provided rag in her hands for scrubbing. The soreness between her legs seemed to fade as the heat relaxed aching muscles, her long hair floating around her like a cape. She inhaled the flowery scent of the soap and grinned. "Mmm, roses. Almost like home."

She wondered if Aedan would ever take her back to Seerstone. Mary would give anything to take her children there someday, to teach them the ways of the life she'd grown up in and help them understand the differences in culture. She wanted very much for her sons and daughters to love both places equally, though certainly that would never happen. Evening Star and Caer Danalin would always be home to them. But I can give them fond memories of another place as well. Warmer times in a warmer place, though hopefully no less joyful.

The water rippled about her as she turned to the bathroom's door, hoping her husband would join her in the warmth of the tub. It was odd, the emptiness she felt in not being at his side. The feeling nearly terrified her. What kind of wife will I be if I feel unsafe when absent from my husband's side, from his arms around me? A very bad one. Certainly. She rarely saw her own mother and father together, though naturally they had been unhappy in their marriage. Mary didn't want that.

"Aedan?" she called sweetly from the water. "Uhm. There is room for the both of us, should you feel the need..."[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezra Brooks]

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
When they came back from their short gallivant through the halls, sheets and food were not the only things newly added to the room. A lone letter, folded in the manner used by falconers, sat on top of a pile of blank parchments, the red ink seal still true, and while Mary went to fixing her breakfast with such enthusiasm, Aedan picked up the message. Instantly he recognized the King's seal, as would any noble of the land, and he quickly stuffed the note in one of his pockets. Though he never had any delusions that today he would be treated just like any other man celebrating his wedding, he would at the very least complete breakfast before he allowed anything from the outside into this room. Whatever it was, it could wait. Nothing mattered more in the moment than Mary, and his attention would not be divided.

So he fixed himself a plate, and with her, and with her alone in mind, Aedan conducted himself at breakfast. The large man ate in a proper way, with knife and fork, and half-empty spoonfuls of oatmeal. He preferred water over the juices that were left, and even tore apart a Double, a sort of sweet roll of honey and dried berries found growing in the valley to the South, to share with Mary. He tried his best to explain a typical day, so that she'd know what kind of life it was they lived here. Breakfast was a jovial affair, filled with smiles, interesting conversation, and through it all, Aedan had managed to forget the intrusion hiding in his pocket.

It wasn't until Aedan started to undress, at Mary's invitation into the bath, that he rediscovered the world outside had descended upon them. The note once again in his hand, Aedan looked the way of the corner around which he knew the bath to be located. Quickly the large man stepped back to the desk, and in quick motion broke the seal on the message, its contents laid bare before his eyes. The script was neat, scrawled by a practiced hand, the same hand that had written to inform him of the match that brought to him his wife. The letters were thin, angular, and not as neat as they had been before, though by far better than even his own penmanship. It was obvious by the script that the king himself had written, not some scribe taking down a note to be signed by the royal signet.

Aedan, I do so hope you are enjoying your new bride. I ask forgiveness for the intrusion, but I write to inform you that in two days I will be arriving in CaerDanalin. As well, an envoy of Weiss will be crossing the border with my express permission, to make its way to join me. You will make sure they are escorted safely, and tell no one who need not know.
-Henry​

Aedan's fingers let the letter drop, and for a moment the entire world beyond this room of theirs came crashing in on him. The King would be here, in two days time, and what's more an envoy of the Kingdom of Weiss was to join. Aedan tucked the letter away in the drawer, forcing from his mind the possible plays being made here by King and enemy alike, and with some effort of will, managed to shove back the outside world. Today belongs to us, he told himself with some irritation to his thoughts, I am a bloody man after all. I have right to spend the Day of Ardor with my wife. Damn the world if it cannot wait.

A few minutes after Mary's call, Aedan was climbing into the tub, the warmth of the water stinging legs and body that had grown accustomed to the mountain's cold. For a moment, it was as though liquid fire rolled against his form in a magnificent for of radiance that seemed to pull every ounce of tension from the big man's features. He leaned back against the back of the tub, closing his eyes for a moment as the waves of heat rolled over him, his body sinking deeper into the bliss of rose scented water, until all but the tip of his nose was submerged in it.

He lingered for a moment, before surfacing, brushing the streams of water that cascaded down his face from his eyes, and opening them to Mary. "Now that is bliss. I tell you, I do not find enough time for baths, always something else that need be done," Aedan grinned his features light, and his eyes heavy on Mary, as though the appearance of her wet hair and glistening skin has just now caught his attention. He watched the candle's dancing light as it glinted off small droplets of water beading on her skin about her shoulders and the base of her neck.

Today belongs to us. Tomorrow, I will worry about the kingdom.
[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]"Well, Viscount McKenna, you can be sure that I will bathe with you daily." Mary couldn't withhold an airy chuckle from passing her lips, though her eyes were laced in sheer sympathy. How hard must a man toil over the affairs of his lands, all by himself with no wife to share the burden, for fifteen straight years? How much must he ache for relief? Aedan certainly looked older than his thirty-eight years of life, far beyond any she'd over known of similar age, though Mary knew he would not withdraw from public goings-on even if it meant his sanity and self-preservation. He loved his people as they loved him, though certainly that did not make the weight any easier to bear. Mary pitied him.

"Here," she spoke softly, taking the soap designated for her husband and a spare rag in her hand. "You need to relax more. All that stress, it'll kill you given time. I don't want that to happen. I can't have you leaving this world too soon." The young bride lifted his arm with delicacy and began scrubbing his shoulders in a smooth, circular motion, not too hard but not so soft as to ignore what needed cleansing. Mary took this opportunity to examine his body as close as she dared, massaging his skin with the gentleness of her touch and the small soapy rag.

His body is so large, Mary thought with a curious bite on her lower lip. His muscles are impressive, strong like bricks and steel. His shoulders are broad and his features are made for battle and war, yet his arms were gentle when they held me at night. This is a man's physique. I daresay it pleases me. Her fingers traced over the many scars adorning his skin like badges of honor, mapping out his body as if it were a world to be traversed. In a way, it was just that--a world that belonged only to Mary, nurtured to life by her light, all it's secrets and fables to be unlocked by her neverending devotion. When blue eyes lifted to his, Mary offered him a smile of pity despite the desire spurning in her frame, and placed a hand softly over his beating heart.

"You have so many scars," she told him with a frown, "as many as the mountains that surround us. I hope you never feel the pain of another. I suppose I'm already at a loss of what I would do, should Trist and Darr take you from me before my heart sings your name." Eyes downcast, she brushed over his heart where a faded scar rested, wondering if the muscle that beat within still sang the name Valerie.

"I'm sorry. That was too forward." Mary moved away and offered no explanation to where her thoughts had gone, though her expression was still alight with compassion as it always was, albeit sorrow rested within. "Forgive me, Aedan. I hadn't meant to dampen the mood. I feel I'm clean, so I'll make us a fire and pour some wine by your leave." She stood from the warmth of the water's reassurances, liquid dripping down her pale body as she stepped onto the marble and dried herself. She padded quietly into the other room and found a fresh nightgown placed on the bed for her to wear, slipping over her skin with a sigh. Mary did as she said she would, striking flint and steel to make a fire and curling up on the fur rug by the hearth. A cup of wine rested in her delicate hands and she sipped occasionally, waiting for her husband to return to her. Her eyes were distant with saddened thoughts.[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezra Brooks]

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
Mary left, and the silence that sat in her wake was deafening, reverberating with the sorrow that seemed to compose itself in her eyes, and in her tone. Aedan didn't know what it was that upset her, but it was obvious that the light of their day together was laced with a shadow. Aedan was quick to finish washing off, losing his desire to be in the warm water, with the sound of flint to steel clicking from the next room. The large man stepped from the tub cleaned, which he had done in a hasty manner, and wrapped himself in the terry cloth towel sat aside for him. Aedan stood it the archway between bathroom and bedroom, silently watching the form of Mary as she settled before the flames, her arms wrapped around herself as though trying to sooth herself with her own embrace, and her eyes looking into the flames of the hearth. He wondered what it was she thought, what had saddened her so? Was it something I did?

But he could think of nothing he did to make her sad. He could think of nothing of the day that could have provoked such a reaction, but the reaction was true nonetheless, and it only went to further demonstrate to Aedan the absolute and thorough problematic nature of relationships. Times had not been easy with Valerie either, and though he doesn't think about the much, in hope of sparing himself the pain of remembering their absence, he does quite fondly remember the difficulty he had in trying to wrap his head around the labyrinthian concoction that she had presented to him as logic. Was Mary also so inflected? Was he even capable of understanding the internal thoughts of a woman, being that he is so simplistic and seemingly naïve by comparison?

And this one is younger. Full of energy, of hormone and contradiction, he told himself, though in truth the words were only some of the advice that his mother was giving him the night of the feast. Aedan had remembered a feeling of such youth in that moment, being back in the position of taking advice on relationships and women, as though he had no prior experience to draw from. But it doesn't make her plight any less Aedan reminded himself as he stepped slowly over to her, crouched himself down so that his large form was behind her, and he sat upon the floor. His legs moved to either part of her, the towel he wore large enough to provide a barrier as natural as clothing between them, as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her without word or request backward against his chest.

"Something weighs heavily on you," Aedan spoke, brushing his fingers gently through Mary's long, light locks, passing his fingers through their dampened weight, almost idle, while his mind wrestles with what to say to make her smile again. The silence, how it had been so comforting at one time, now only served to remind him of the absence of her voice. "you apologized for being forward, an act that I assure you that you never need to do with me. We are joined by the gods, as one in all things Mary," Aedan spoke, wrapping his arm around her, and pressing his lips against the dampened crown of her head.

"What troubles you?" He asked.
[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]Every touch seemed to fulfill her. Mary closed her eyes into the sensations of the little graces he offered her, his fingers in her hair, his lips upon her head, strong arms wrapping protectively around her fragile frame. She smiled for a moment, albeit unseen by her husband. "This is lovely," she sighed, temporarily distracted from her thoughts. "Every touch you offer me is one of gentleness and affection, and I appreciate you more for it. I hope that we can be like this always, in everything that we do, whether we are together or separated." She took his hand in hers and draped her fingertips over his palm, assessing the roughness of his years of swordplay and the lines and creases of his skin. Mary's heart fluttered like she were a princess in a dream, stolen away by a strong knight come to rescue her from her doom.

But that was not the case. She was the Viscountess of Evening Star, the wife of a great leader. She was young and foolish where he was older and wiser, but she still had a heart, and Mary would say what must be said. She took a moment longer to cherish her husband's embrace before sitting upright once again, turning so she might sit on her knees and face him. He is still so much taller than me, even when we are sitting like this.

"Aedan," she muttered, clearing her throat. It was almost difficult to look into his eyes. "Please don't be angry with me." She took his hands in hers again, looking up into his eyes with earnest. "I am your wife now, in all things, in all ways. I am yours and you are mine. Already I have come to cherish you and our time together, and I sincerely hope that it may grow into love over the course of months, or years should it take that long." She cleared her throat, nervous. "But as your wife, I must promise to be with you in all things. To share your burdens. I can't imagine what it was like for you to trudge through life alone these past many years, but those days are over. Everything you face, everything you are made to suffer, I suffer too. I face it all with you. Even those things that I was not present to see."

Mary lifted a hand and stroked his cheek, terrified he would be cross with her should she continue, but her gentle heart believed there to be no other choice. She squeezed his hand and sighed. "I...I know your past wife was difficult. I know you may not have loved her, but her death was important to you. It was significant. And...and your son," she muttered. Tears formed in her eyes. "No parent should have to bury their child. Were he alive, he would become my son today, as you have become my husband. I will never know him, never see his smile, never share in his joys as you did, But since I am yours, I will bear this burden with you because I have to. Because I want to. I have no desire for you to feel as though you must hide your past family from me. So..." She bit her lip. "Please, Aedan. What is yours is mine. Even your sorrows. Even your grief."

Are you angry with me? her eyes seemed to say.[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezra Brooks]

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
It was as though the sun drained from the sky, and all color faded with the onset of the dim. Memory flooded in on Aedan, at mention of Valerie and Ardan, the family that he had lost so tragically, the family that he had only recently began to replace. Memory of the letter than he had held in his gripped fist, as grief overwhelmed him. He had flung the letter, as though doing so would scatter the letter from its surface and unmake the truth that those words, scrawled hurriedly by an unsure hand, brought into his world. His wife and child… And she wanted to share in that pain? How can you? His mind tasks, as she continues, his eyes lost in the dim of memory, looking in the direction of her, apparently attentive, but his gaze lost somewhere between the tip of his nose, and the surface of her eyes. Do you have a tether connecting you to a lost family, one taken from you in an instant? Do you know the pain of having your world crushed without warning. I can remember the moment it fell. The very breath I took. Do you know how potent an instant can be? Have you learned that one can be devastating enough to trap you in it, refusing to let you move on?

The thoughts fractured him, even as he leaned down, touching the curves of her face with a gentle hand, touching a smile to his lips. He was practiced with holding back what lies within. He's had fifteen years practice at keeping behind an unseen wall, the truth of his emotions, that he was tethered to that single moment in the past. Does she realize that there would always be a duality to me?, Aedan continued to think, even as he exhaled a gentle breath, looking soft into her worried face. "You are such a gentle, graceful soul," Aedan's voice was warmth, calm and collected warmth, like the smoldering remains of a log turned to coal in the hearth. "Your concern warms me Mary," Aedan continued, "I am grateful to have it, but it isn't necessary. It was a long time ago," he whispered, brushing a touch of his lips against hers. In truth, he didn't want to discuss it anymore. In truth, he didn't want the thoughts to dwell on. He spent the last fifteen years in the grip of this need to find some closure to the death of his wife and son, to put whomever was responsible to the sharp edge of his sword, and he had hoped that in some part this new marriage could be separated from that. They say that the first years of a marriage is a time of discovery, of each other, and of oneself. The day is not yet over, and already Aedan has discovered a duality of himself formed on the breath of his promise of marriage. He cannot rip himself way from that moment, grief and pain having bound him to it, and yet he knew that Mary would need a husband free of that past life. Does it qualify as hiding if the division is clearly kept?

The rift is too new. Why does this come now, only hours into marriage, and not later, when I've had time to deal with such things? His mind continued to reel. The grief is mine. The sorrow is mine. The pain my tribute to them, lest it consume me. Till the day I die, I will remember the grief, the sorrow when I learned that my boy was no longer a part of this world… that I will not see his face, or hear his laugh. The man I was, the man who loved them, didn't cease to be because King and Sire requested that I marry. It is more so the man I am was created with that promise.

Words he could never say continued to run through his mind in the moment the kiss died away. "You are my wife, in all things," he spoke, returning sentiment for sentiment, word for word, as they had done in the ceremony the night before. "And I will keep you at my side, but understand that I will shelter you from grief and pain where I can. It is not my wish to have you hurt. I will not see tears in your eyes on a daily basis, nor know that when you look at me, you see pain. I am not a broken man, and I will not be seen as such. Do not speak of bearing my burden's with me, but sharing my joys. Be a place of serenity and hope, a light when things are dim. Be my joy, to remind me that there is something more than the ever-presence absence. The rest of the world looks on me as a man constructed by his past, and to them I am the man who lost son and wife. I ask that you do not see that when you look at me. Be the one who looks upon this old man and sees that there is strength and life, in spite of sorrow and death."
[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]"Oh, but I am." Mary cupped his face in her hands and beamed brilliantly, inner joy shining through. Aedan was just as soft and sweet as she was underneath all he was made to burden. "I do see life instead of death, my dear. I see strength instead of weakness. I know these events occurred some time ago and I don't wish to bring them up in conversations where they don't belong, but I...I just wanted you to know, Aedan, that I don't need protection from your grief. I will share it with you and help you through it, whenever it may arise. Just as I will share your joy in everything else." She brushed her thumbs along his cheeks and smiled warmly through her eyes. He was still so tender with her, even now, even when there were no expectations of her in what she must do to serve him. Mary's heart swelled when she looked into his eyes, greater than it ever had before, and she wondered if he could see how truly happy she was when he looked upon her face.

He is mine, and I am his. I hope he sees that.

"You are wise," she said, "and strong. Gentle. To me you are not a man who lost your wife and son. To me, you are wonderful and caring, a true leader. You cared for me when I was most vulnerable. But most of all, you are first and foremost my husband, and I swore my love to you before the gods."

And I'll swear it again.

Mary leaned forward and pressed her lips tenderly against his, warm and soft and full of affection. She took another kiss, and another, and another before she finally pulled away, slipping her hands shyly back into her lap. She wasn't sure what to do with herself then, unable to think of further words to say or actions to take, so she took initiative to bring herself the comfort of his touch. Mary turned around and leaned back against Aedan's chest once more, letting his strong arms wrap around her, and her eyes closed happily into the sensation. She could feel him breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his skin through her nightclothes, the beat of his heart.

"This is where I belong," Mary sighed, unaware that she'd made the confession aloud.[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezra Brooks]

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
The day went, and night settled on them again, and they had scarcely left this room. Three times Aedan had to reset the fire, as their comfort in each other's arms seemed to know no end, but the thickness of logs and the hunger of flames did. The world had been reduced, at least for this handful of hours, to contain only the pair of them, these four walls, and what joys they found in one another. Where before yellow sun bathed golden across Mary's alabaster skin, now did the moon's silver light play. Aedan stood in back of the room, having just returned to a shelf a book of history, from which he was relating some of his favorite stories from childhood, but Aedan hadn't returned. Upon turning around, the most unexpected thing had happened. His eyes, which had in their time beheld much of beauty and grace, fell upon this angel of his, bathed in the moon's touch. His breath caught in a moment, as his eyes followed the slender form of her lithe frame beneath the thin shimmer of her bed clothes.

In silence, Aedan approached, not wishing to disturb Mary's gaze out the window, and his quest achieved as he came up behind, wrapping strong arms around her waist, pressing his lips into her hair. How expected it was to feel her body relax against his, as though the routine had been established for years instead of a matter of hours. He knew the pass of her hand against his head, as she reached up to touch upon his hair, a reaction he found most common to her, when he kissed upon the place where her neck meets her shoulders. How expected, and how exhilarating it all was. The scent of her poured from her skin, through the soft golden strands of her hair to set passion aflame within his veins, as though Misikal herself whispered spells within his ear.

The night air was cool coming from the window, drawing Mary's skin up to goose bumps as it blew across it, it's frigid caress warmed by a pass of his hands over the slender arms in a long, slow caress. First up the slender length of her arms, his mouth capturing hers as she turned her head into him, wordlessly, as though provoked by the same passion that burned beneath his skin and pulled at the threads of his soul, then down, towards the slenderness of her waist, the curve of her hips. His fingers enjoying the sleek fabric of her nightgown, while craving the heat that bled through it as he pressed it gently against her skin. The majority of the day, she had been in his arms, the heat of her body as customary to the day as was the light of the sun, and yet it didn't affect him so as it was now. The same finger tips drank it through the same cloth earlier, but now that his blood cried for it, now that his mind whispered with memory of last night, of what it was to lie with her entwined ins his arms, Aedan found the warmth took on a new spirit. Did she understand the profound impact she was having on him? How brilliantly she could control him with such little effort. She had to do nothing but be, and in less than a day he returned to her flesh, ready again to worship it, to trace kisses and caresses across her skin.

But what did she think of this? She spoke of him often as a leader. She sees in him a husband, that much she has said, and leader. She looks to him for gentleness, strength, but what does she see when in him now? Does she understand just how exposed he is in this moment, as his most basic of drives are reduced to nothing more than a simple physical need. If today was about building love, of finding their place together, was this simply an extension of that? Can it be, in this moment, in this period of time, with such a short history between them, can he honorably and without hesitation define the desire, the raw need that strains through his veins, a product of love? Does it matter between them? They are married. Man and wife. Sex is an understood part of that life. But this time it would be different. The first night, custom and law required the marriage be consummated. Sex served a purpose.

What about now?

The ideas were maddening. The arguments rummaged through his mind, as he weighed his own intentions against what would be honorable and noble towards Mary. He weighed himself under scrutiny, trying to wrestle beyond the burning need that clouded his mind, the nagging doubt that echoed all too unfortunate truths into the back of his mind, bringing color and spin to motives he believed to be pure only moments ago. She was beautiful, and she was his. She had as much declared it earlier that day, but does it give him right? Light, will I be forever cursed to so wrestle with myself in protection of her virtue, Aedan's mind called out in self annoyance, as the single and perhaps most important truth of all came into focus, silencing the doubt as though the visiting demon were frightened off by its presence: I may not know how to say it, and I may doubt it's presence so soon, but this gentle girl does hold my love.

She is precious to me.
[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]If this was what love entailed, Mary knew she would enjoy it quite thoroughly as the years of their marriage went on. Every little touch and kiss that Aedan placed upon her neck was a brush of fire on her skin, a tingle of passion that shot down her spine and vibrated through every nerve and atom. His beard tickled her and his lips were pleasurable, and the tangle of sensation left Mary wanting more. His thumbs brushed along the fabric of her gown, over her hip bones, and the Viscountess stood on her toes to kiss him deeper, to bring him closer. She yearned to take all that she was and bury herself in the security Aedan provided. Her hands slid down the brick wall of his chest and her body ached to be surrounded by her husband's strength, to be filled and loved and cherished by whatever affection he held for her, for surely there was something to make them want each other so desperately.

Such feelings should be shameful. Mary had grown up learning that to feel such powerful physical attraction for another person was a sin, gluttonous and lustful, and that any who acted upon those feelings were harlots and whores. Those were certainly her father's harsh opinions of course. Mary never thought that an act of love could ever be considered shameful. But was it different between a husband and a wife, to crave such passion with the wild ferocity of secret lovers in a forbidden tryst? Was it wrong to want him everywhere, for her sex to ache for the pressure of his? Impossible. This could not be sin, for absorption into her husband's love involved this level of fierce intimacy, and Misikal was openly blessing them with chemistry.

I can only hope he views this the same way.

He certainly seemed to. Aedan's grip on her hips tightened and he lifted her up, as if she were nothing but a feather and he the strongest man on earth. Mary's instinct was to wrap her legs around his waist and cling to him. A small giggle escaped her lips, captured again by her husband's, and her soul leapt with joy was he carried her to some unknown destination. She didn't care where he took her in that moment, be it against cold stone walls or a dining room table, even out to the freshly-made blankets of snow. But she was not left guessing for long. Her back pressed against the furs of their marriage bed as he laid her down, hovering over her in the way she so adored, and she cupped his neck to kiss those addictive lips again.

I don't care if it's sinful, she decided. I want this every day of every year, for the rest of my life. With him.[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezra Brooks]

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
The next morning brought with it the idea of normalcy, and how exactly it was to be defined. A few days ago, his life was his own, mostly, to do with as he pleased, when he pleased, at least where the role of Viscount allowed him such freedoms. He could eat what and when he saw fit, sleep where and how he deemed it necessary, hunt when he felt the call in his blood, and be alone when he felt the need. A few days ago, he was single, lonely and living in a well established rut, and this morning, the first that isn't dictated by custom and tradition, where man and woman, for the first time, arose together into the truth of their worlds, Aedan was curious to rediscover what was meant by the idea of a 'normal' morning. He had awaken with Mary's form curled against his, her head upon his chest as though some infant puppy seeking with eyes not yet opened, seeking the warmth and pounding of a parent's heart for security and peace. He was proud to offer that peace, found her that much more beautiful in the morning, when he awoke to find her sleeping so near him. Aedan would be a rock for her to brace herself on, or to hide behind when life attempted to strike at her with a fierceness she didn't wish to endure herself. Already, this had felt custom to him, as though it had always been this way. Normal was waking up with Mary in his arms.

Funny how quickly that had happened.

Aedan found that all things intimate between them had already taken it's place. His heart had opened and easily accepted the transition from Valerie to Mary, and though his son does yield a certain pain over him, and Valerie will always be a treasured memory, he would not have a problem seeing Mary in her place. Mary was his future now, his present, and he was in full agreement with the idea of bestowing upon her the whole of his heart, minus the grief and desire to restore his broken child to life – a father's lament. He must admit that such a quick adaptation was unexpected. Likewise, Aedan felt himself to be a very easy going man, and thus difficulty with the daily caught him rather off guard. It was in one of those moments that Aedan found himself now. Dressed, sitting without rhyme or reason on the edge of the bed watching the sun as it danced across the steepled tips of his fingers, while he waited throughout the process of Mary getting dressed. He was hungry, and breakfast was down stairs, and he saw no reason why he shouldn't comply with normalcy and simply trespass down to the dining room and eat – except that he felt he should wait for Mary.

A few minutes, he had told himself. A damnable lie!

Already he had walked through his plans for today, and in what order she should do them. He wanted to say good bye to his brother and mother before they departed for Caer Cabhan. He had a few preparations to see were made in response to the note he had found yesterday from Henry, announcing his impending arrival tomorrow. Ofcourse, these things were always relative, so he needed to be ready sometime by mid-day, in case the King's caravan was somewhat faster on the road than was earlier thought. He would need to talk with Mary about the royal arrival, as well as Lenore. Already he needed to dispatch word to the northern border, to be sure that the way is cleared for this envoy from Weiss to enter without challenge. So many things that needed his attention, and here he is, playing with his fingers and pondering the meaning of regularity. Like today was to be a common day as it were.

Aedan stood up quickly, crossed the room. He peeked his head out the door, happy to see that his staff had returned to their duties without some form of engraved invitation. A guard stood at the edge of the door, watching to make sure he and Mary were not disturbed this morning. It was to this man that Aedan's attention turned, and to this man that his voice, deep from the long hours of silence. "Go tell Captain Caern that I would speak with her at breakfast. Tell her to meet me in my dining room in half an hour," He spoke, pulling back into the room, letting the large wooden door close behind him. He crossed the room again, this time to the small bathing area that had apparently absconded Mary first thing this morning. The light knows he had no idea what it entailed for a Lady to get dressed and ready.

"I was thinking," His voice called out as he came to stand in the doorway of the small room, his eyes taking in the state of the room. Beauty was a form of witchcraft, it had to be. There were vials and bottles all over the place, with towels and napkins, brushes and other indiscriminate tools that Aedan would have no hope in giving name too lying strewn about the large table along the wall. It lacked all apparent sense of organization to him, though he was certain that there was some kind of order in what he could only perceive, since he wasn't of the understanding of the craft, as chaos. He cleared his voice, this time his voice sounding more normal than before, losing the extra bass it had been given throughout the night. "I was hoping we could head into town later this morning, and pick you out some new clothes. I know you have plenty, but a few cuts of the northern fashion for stately affairs may be prudent." He took a look around again.

The light be thanked I was born a man.
[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]Transforming from a young girl of the south into a woman of Evening Star had proven a difficult task indeed. She was married now, the Viscountess of a foreign land with people who would look up to her and her lord husband, not to mention she had the importance of her womanly duties resting on her shoulders. It was only right that Mary look the part as well, no matter how long it took. She was taught from a very young age that appearances often meant everything, and she would not let those lessons slide regardless of how grueling such tasks were. At the sound of her husband's voice, Mary dabbed the final bits of perfume along her slender neck and drew in a breath, stepping out into his line of sight.

I hope he isn't irritated with me.

"I'm sorry I took so long," she apologized. "I just want to make a good first impression." Mary folded her hands in front of her, a bright smile resting on soft pink lips. Her gown was ivory with stitched flowers along the fabric and lace. Blonde curls were braided and pulled back into an elaborate updo and pearl earrings dangled from her ears. "What do you think?" she asked rather shyly. "I didn't want to overdo it, but I still wanted to look nice." She gave herself a glance in the mirror before sighing, shaking her head. How much longer would she ponder such things? Surely no one would look that hard at her attire. "Ah, I've taken too long, I should worry so much. I'm sorry to keep you waiting." Mary gave a happy little giggle before crossing the room, pressing a light kiss to her husband's cheek. Married life suited her. She seemed to glow with joy, with a fire in her soul that Aedan McKenna had ignited and sent coursing through her very veins, so strong that Mary may have melted the snow around her should the two of the find themselves in the surroundings of another summer snow.

"I don't need more dresses, but if you think it wise I'll take a look. I adore fashion, it's one of my many faults." Mary flashed him a small smile, looping her arm in his. "But first, I'm awfully hungry. Would you mind leading me to the dining halls, lord husband? I'm afraid I still don't know my way."

In truth, she simply wanted to remain on his arm.[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezra Brooks]

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
"You look beautiful," Aedan spoke, but the true compliment wasn't in the words he spoke, but in the tone of his voice, the flush of color that hid in his cheeks, the smile that brushed his lips, and the slight shuffle of his feet, as though eager to lead him forward, but maintained nonetheless. He felt like an eager kid as he held his arm out towards her, watching her approach so that she would take her place by his side. And there it was again, that all too familiar touch of her body beside his, as though the feel of her hand was something years had given him the benefit of knowing, not days. But he had felt incomplete without it this morning.

"It would be my honor," he answered her request in all seriousness, and opened the large wooden door to their room with his free hand. The keep had returned to its normal operations, and workers were visible traveling through the hallways as they stepped into them. Immediately a pair of guards came to attention as they exited. They kept their distance, but followed as Aedan guided his new wife through the corridor to the northern staircase, and then down to the kitchens below. The dining room Aedan preferred was a simple thing compared to the main dining hall, which was reserved for large affairs of state. The smaller room bore a few large wooden tables, built from fallen ironwoods and lumbered long before Aedan's great grandfather had ever taken breath. The wood was well worn, smooth and polished in the way of years of daily use. Like everything else in Caer Danalin,the table was ancient, built in a time long before them, and would be around through the lives of their children, and their grandchildren.

"There you are brother," the voice spoke out, as Aedan entered into the room, Mary on his arm. He had not but stopped in the threshold, in response to the booming voice, as Aedan's eyes fell upon Liam. They bother were larger men, dressed in the dark earthen tones of the North, with thick cloaks held about their shoulders and a thickness of tunic not commonly found in the warmer temperatures of the South. "And you, dear sister, I had hoped to find you both here this morning." Ceremoniously, Liam took the hand of Mary, his brother's new wife, and touched it to lips and forehead, in the traditions of the Northern lords, a sign of love and fealty.

"You are leaving so soon?" Aedan spoke, his voice touched by a sorrow at the goodbye that he knew was coming. His family wasn't around often enough for his likes, and he had wished the visit would be of a more prolonged nature.

"I'm afraid I must," Liam spoke, stepping a half step back to better engage the both of them, as equals, now that the pleasantries of greeting his new Viscountess were behind him. Of course, a formal declaration of fealty would be coming soon, and Liam had no concerns about bowing knee and drawing sword before Mary, and pledging service to her and her children. He'd do it now, if they were in a more suitable place for the ceremony. "A bird has whispered into my ear that a rider entered Caer Danalin yesterday, bearing a note. While the contents of the note are secret, the rider was quite open with his words in the tavern last night. The King makes for Caer Danalin. I fear your attentions must be on higher guests, and I do not wish to divide your attentions while his majesty is here. Mother and I wish to be gone by mid-day."

[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]The North was such a strange place, with strange customs and even stranger methods of operation, but Mary was confident she could learn to love and appreciate them over time. She must, for her children would know nothing of the Southern ways, at least not in practice as she had learned. Mary made sure to observe every gesture, every joke and common phrase in case it might come into good use later on in the weeks and months it would take to adjust to her new life and status.

What she wasn't expecting, however, was for her new family to depart so soon and bear news of a royal visit.

Mary frowned to hear Liam's news. "The king?" she asked. "Coming here? To Evening Star? And you're leaving?" Mary found that she was suddenly not very hungry anymore, and bit her lip anxiously. She kept her eyes focused but there was trepidation within them, no matter how hard she tried to conceal it.

King Henry was a forward person, one who had no filter and spoke his mind because he had the privilege to do so. When Mary was young, there was talk of marrying her off to Henry and making her a queen of the realm, but Henry disdained the match because she was "too poor" for his personal tastes. Instead, he shipped her off to Evening Star before she was barely of age to marry, after making sure to embarrass her and provide her with all sorts of unwanted attention. Mary was a polite young woman and always respected the king, but she did not like him, and she certainly didn't look forward to seeing him again so soon.

I don't want to sound like a child and make Aedan's family stay, she thought. Let them go where they must, no matter how much I wish they wouldn't.

"I'm sorry to hear that you're leaving," said Mary in a pleasant tone. "I had hoped to become better acquainted with you and your lady mother over the next few days, but if I must wait, then I suppose I must wait." The Viscountess flashed a beautiful smile that hid the growing fear within. "I hope you and your mother travel safely back to your homes, and will come back and visit us soon."

In the back of her mind, she wondered what fresh hells the king would bring with him upon his most unexpected visit.[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezra Brooks]

[fieldbox=Aedan McKenna; Lord of the Evening Star , #CD853F, solid, 0, georgia]
"I am certain, milady, that we will be back soon, and you will have such fill of our company that you'll chase us from the walls these walls with a broom," Liam's lips turned a smile, meant to ease the woman's concerns before he turned his attention back to his brother., to complete his exit of their company.

"May the mountain accept you dear brother, on your journey home," Aedan spoke, his voice was deep and somber, obviously no love for this most recent and rather sudden decision of Liam's to depart. Aedan knew it had to be because of news of the King's arrival. They had planned out the next week, hunting trips and night-time fires. They had been in agreement that they spent too few nights under the same roof anymore, for both their own and their mother's liking, and they were going to remedy that. But Liam had no love for audiences with royalty, Aedan knew this. Where Aedan was in possession of a diplomat's tongue when the fire in his blood began to burn, Liam was not. There was a joke that passed between them some years ago, that if ever Liam found himself trapped in audience with the King, he need only speak his opinions to see his head separate from his shoulders. At the time, it has seemed rather humorous to the large man; now something to be avoided.

"And the grace of the Evening Star be ever upon you brother," Liam returned, clasping his brother by the forearm in departure, before he turned and exited the dining room, leaving Aedan and Mary standing together, in the silence that follows such departures. When the man left, and the groom entered the room to set empty dishes upon the table for Mary and Aedan, as well as a place setting of silverware and two large goblets of water, Aedan turned his attention to Mary. Liam had brought to sudden light that which Aedan had been hoping to ease into, the King's arrival.

"I received word last night, while you were at bath. A single slip hidden amongst the desk where I could find it. I didn't want to involve the outside world in our affairs yesterday, so I waited to tell you. The King comes after dawn, and in the company of the Arch Duke of Weiss no less," Aedan spoke, figuring since the subject broke, he should come clean with the totality of it all.
[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Mary McKenna: Lady of the Evening Star, #d6899e, solid, 0, georgia]Mary sat at the table once it was set, folding her hands in her lap and trying to remain a lady despite the horrifying news she'd just received. She bit her lip and watched her husband move, the body she had come to love resting underneath his northern clothes, wondering if he would listen to her testimony and find her a liar or, dare she think, believe her.

I suppose there's only one way to find out.

When the food was served, Mary reached out across the table and took Aedan's hand in hers, squeezing tight. "My love," she said, "if I told you something that might be considered treasonous, would you listen?" Mary searched his eyes for understanding and found it there, and she knew she had to speak quickly before he changed his mind.

"King Henry and I have a history," she told him. "Not a romantic history, per se. He...he wanted me. He lusted for me against his marriage to the queen, and when I refused him he changed my marital arrangement. I was supposed to earn a position at court as a duchess but instead I was sent here, supposedly as a gesture of good faith, but I know better. I didn't think anything of it and I am grateful to be your bride, but I can't help but wonder if he isn't up to something, coming here so soon after our union, with the Duke of Weiss no less."

Mary bit her lip and felt ashamed for saying such things aloud. Her hands trembled as she recoiled them back into her lap. "He is not...he is not very kingly, our king. I do not look forward to his visit."

In fact, it terrifies me. [/fieldbox]