Post by BlackSmith on Dec 17, 2008 11:50:05 GMT -6
Durst Wax: Late evening saw the closing of the shops and carts, leaving the lanterns to be lit along the cobblestone path ways that Skye called her walkways and stepping stones. Just because the night was creeping over the lands like a cloak, it did not mean that life suddenly would stop. No, much of the workers were still continuing business or opening up their late night taverns for any who wished to have a nice drink and relax after a long day. This would not be the case for one of the local blacksmiths. His night would only be starting. The weather was cooler to work in at night time and when you worked next to an open flame for hours on end, heating metal, hammering metal to shape it and creating steam every few moments, one needed that refreshing night air to cool the skin. The wooden pipe bobbed up and down in his mouth as heavy boots hit the cobble walk way until it turned into the wooden porch of Briar Rose inn. The left hand, full of scars, rough spots and dirt from a hard day's labor, lifted to press on the heavy door, making it open so his tall frame could move through and into the establishment for his meal of the night before he would head to work on orders. Dressed in a simple pair of black breeches, a white tunic, a black cloak and old worn boots, he was simple compared to many who came here and that was the point. While others would head for a darken corner wishing to hide themselves from anyone's else eyes, the blacksmith moved towards a table right in the middle and by the door where he could be seen. The point was to get service, not to wait for hours on end for someone to notice you. Many men would holler and complain that no one was serving them, yet sit in a dark corner and wonder why. In plain few, he lowered his tall form into the first empty chair he came to by that table, reaching to pull out the pipe so he could exhale a trail of smoke. If no one noticed him, he would ask the first person that came along for a drink and meal without any issues. His face had been clean shaved, in serious need of it for so long. His skin did not feel like his own and worries were on him with a heavy weight, but it was all on the inside. On the outside, he seemed as calm as the next man.
GaelicFIame: Jocelyn found herself walking alone down those very cobblestone paths. A dark muddy brown colored cloak kept the young woman's body from becoming to cool. Long brown hair swayed with each step as a light breezes came and went. Big brown eyes would shift about, just to keep a check on her surroundings. She wasn't easily scared or frightened, just pecular and watchful. The small young woman noticed the large frame of a male as he made his way into the Briar Rose. A hand moved to the small leather pouch tucked neatly away and gave it a soft toss. A few coins jingled and she pondered a moment. It'd be nice for a decent meal tonight, even if it meant parting with what few coins she had. Again she moved, following after the man and entering into the Inn. The difference of tempature quickly noted as the warm welcoming Inns atmosphere began to chase away the cool chills of the night air. She moved to stand by the fire first, getting warm was her first priority.
Memento Animus: With the dying of the sun, Lucius as well as others had taken to drawing within the inns and taverns, though the reasons differed greatly. Lucius had no reason to be out and about this time, and despite the fact that he had been a man for some time now. While staying at the inn, he pulled his weight to compensate for his low pay, taking up residence in the inn for the now. His bound arm had healed a great deal, and now it no longer hurt to move it, though the fine stitching of the surgeon Roac had been removed now, setting the wound to mend by the body's natural abilities. Rose had asked him to fetch a few more logs for the hearth, which was becoming a rather popular place to gather in the wintry months of the year. Without hesitation, Lucius pulled on the plum wool cloak over his shoulder, and set out the back door. Grabbing the axe leaning against the side of the establishment, Lucius lifted it and chopped another armful of logs for the hearth, and once that task was done, he gathered his collection of logs and headed back inside. The cook opened the door for him, to which the man received a soft thanks, before he stepped out into the main room. The groaning door could be heard from the kitchen, which had prompted Rose to come out to greet her new patrons. With arms full, Lucius stepped out behind her, and headed toward the hearth..though the sight of one patron had him stopping dead in his tracks and journey to the fire. Lucius only made it about halfway, before his eyes widened and the sight of...his...father. His father that he had not seen since he left for the battle of Dumfrieshire. Oh dear. Oh damn. Lucius swallowed hard as he stared at the man, like a doe caught in the sight of a hunter. Suddenly, as if life had sprung from his stationary stance, Lucius dropped the logs he had been carrying with a loud THUD and turned to head for the stairs.
Roac AarIin: There was no denying that winter was well and truly setting in on the cold, northerly isle of Skye. The air was crisp and his breath misted out in great plumed as he walked. The sound of muffled talk mixed with the rhythmic echoing of his footfall permeated the cobbled street, punctuated by the unmistakable sound of a sharp axe head splitting the grain of wood. Fuel being stocked for the evenings fire, no doubt. He was taking a casual walk to the briar rose, in no particular rush. There was something about the crisp wintry air that made him feel vital and alive, as though his blood was striving to pump hotter in his veins. He wore a royal blue scarf of thick wool, tied about his neck and tucked deep into his tunic, which was laced up right as high as it would go. His fingers were tucked into the pockets of his doeskin breeches to prevent them becoming too chill, yet his toes were beginning to take on a familiar numbness. He too, puffed at a long stemmed pipe, holding it in place between his teeth. It was only a winter habit for him, a season begun with work and filled with comfort and confinement, or so he had always known it. Yes, it was about time he reached the Inn, the lure of the fire he knew would be alight already bidding him walk faster. It took him a minute or two to reach the door, where he pulled his hand from his pocket and twisted the frozen brass knob, pushing it open, making sure he stepped in swiftly and closed it behind him, lest he vent all the heat the cosy room had accumulated. Untucking his scarf, he loosed the knot, and hung the strip of wool up on the hook not far from the door and headed to the bar, where he promptly ordered a large mug of warmed cider. Exchanging a few coins for it, he made toward the fireside, only to see the once-upon-a-time Squire, Lucius, drop an armful of wood and bolt toward the stairs...Well, at least he was mobile once again...
Durst Wax: Dark brown eyes lifted to see the woman that had been coming in right behind him; move herself towards the fire to warm her limbs. The smith preferred to be cold for a time, because once he was within his hut, he would be sweating and ready for the cool air on his skin. Lowering his eyes for a moment, he placed the pipe onto the table top to reach for his own bag filled with enough coin for a meal before he heard the door open again and just as he moved his eyes towards the front to see the male with an interesting hair color, another sound had his eyes swing towards the one who entered from the back way. Well they were coming in at all sides were they not? Ah, but this one held a particular interest in the blacksmith's eyes. One brow rose as he watched his son drop the logs upon the floor, making a loud THUD THUDTHUD sound before he turned and ....where was he going? ``Lucius`` That husky tone said his name with a calm meaning, but firm. Already he was moving from his seat and walking around the table. It was hard to know what he felt. Anger? Confusion? When Lucius paused as his name, it gave the smith those few moments to speed up and get closer enough to reach out and grab that plum cloak by the end with his roughen hand, keeping the boy from running too far.
GaelicFIame: Those big brown eyes would simply take in the many faces of the patrons about her. A soft smile made for herself as she nodded in a sense. It was almost as if she were telling herself it was a good idea to come here. The people seemed friendly enough, the room held a cozy likeness to it and it didn't seem like to much trouble happened here. Then, at the sound of the door opening once more, her brown eyes spotted the man that now entered. She was about to him and the other male that looked her way. That was until the loud thudding sounds had her cutting those eyes to its source. A young man dropping logs only to dash off up a set of stairs. One brow, then the other arched as she began to wonder. Softly speaking to herself she would say. "Well, seems Ay might 'ave spoken tae soon..." And here she thought she'd find a trouble free night. Things were looking just the opposite though as the large man stood to his feet and moved after the younger man. Jocelyn watched, giving a shake of her head before she began to move over to where all other cloaks, coats and such were to be hanged. Her own was removed and added to the collection before heading towards the bar. It was time to make that order of something warm to drink and eat. With any luck, she'd have just enough coin for it. Looking to Rose she spoke up. "Ay'll 'ave what ever it is this can get me tha be warm tae drink and eat m'lady." The small pouch of coins was placed upon the bar before Rose and she turned to look to where the others had been. Eyes stilling on the man near her, giving a short nod before they turned back to Rose and she slid into a seat.
Memento Animus: Oh fie! He had not been counting on his father to be present and here. Lucius would admit that he had been reluctant to visit his father since his return, unsure how to relate to him the tale of his first battle. Would his father be ashamed or angry with him? Lucius did not know, and he certainly did not want to anger or dishonour his father, or think him a craven for not remaining with his knight and dying there with him. Despite the command of his knight to go, Lucius still found it hard to believe that leaving was the truest thing to do. But fate would force him to confront his father...and perhaps on most unhappy terms. That stoic and plain expression his father was infamous at wearing made it all the more challenging to decipher the man's expression and feelings. His heart was pacing quickly as he dashed for the steps, not caring that others looked to him with a confused look. Lucius did not care far, however, and despite the sound of his name, Lucius fled soon after, seeing his father rising. The forward motion was suddenly stopped by his father's hand seizing his cloak, and having not eyes in the back of his head, the squire failed to see his father's quick actions. Jerked back by his own haste and his father's steadfast grip, Lucius slipped, falling backwards and hitting the floor with a thud. Oh, that hurt, as booted feet left the ground for a moment, before he landed again, and none too gracefully. Groaning softly, Lucius winced as he laid on the ground, flat on his back, and staring upward...to his father. The air had been knocked swiftly from his lungs, and now he was breathing hard to compensate and regain that which had been lost. ``H-h-hello...father..`` Lucius replied uneasily.
Roac AarIin: It was the way the man rumbled the lad's name before rising and jumping on his heels that had Roac's hackles rising. There was fear in the squire, and this burly man was the source of it. There was no denying himself the feeling of reighteous crusader that rose up when he saw some form of injustice. Or at least what he perceived as injustice despite how misinformed he might be. He swiftly slammed his mug down on the nearest table, some of that warm cider slopping over it's rim, his pipe clattering from his teeth to the ground, as the martial artist in him flared up once again. He moved with speed, one hand opening and facing palm out, held just before his left nipple, the other made into a 'gun shape' [like you do when you're a kid!] and extended out before him palm up. A strange stance for any one to take up, yet there was a dangerous grace to his poise. "Be very careful about what you do next." His face was a picture of ghostlike neutrality and calm, though his words held and fearful intensity. It wasn't until Lucius bounced off the floor, addressing the man as father that Roac's eyes widened a moment and he had the grace to redden in stark embarassment. "I..." He gave a small swallow, looking to his left and right. "I apologise..." He coughed a little, as though urging some sort of sound to fill the inevitable silence that followed.
Durst Wax: No doubt the few patrons that were in here looked to the unknown father and son, watching the display of the boy trying to escape a much larger and older male. Who knew what ran through the minds of the outsiders. The smith cared not for the eyes of others, this was a matter that would not be left undone. What kind of son would return from war and not tell his father he was home? The Smith was unsure what he felt, but answers would be swift, or his son would feel his wrath. Rose shook her head and moved along to pick up the fallen logs, complaining about the drama, while the Smith yanked back on Lucius slightly, not meaning to make his son tumble to his rear, but it worked well just the same. At the sound of his son's greeting, he knew he was fearful. Good. A son should fear a father's wrath as man did to God. Without his seed in his body Lucius would not be. Turning at the soft sounds of boots along the wooden floor, he looked partly over his shoulder to see the male who had recently come in, approaching him with some strange style in his stance. The sounds of the other woman talking was heard, the comments of other patrons, the movement of the tender, and even the way the fire flamed flickered and licked along the new logs. Nothing was put out of his mind as he waited for the male to do more. Just because the stance looked strange, did not mean the Smith should look past it, for it could cause pain he was sure. The next few questions rose, who was this man and why was he coming to Lucius' defense? The apology that followed was taken, for despite his look, the smith was not an unkind man. `` It is a simple mistake anyone could have made. It is good to know that some will take steps to help others, never the less. `` Now that the man was not a threat anymore, he looked back to his son and moved his hand out to him. `` Hello boy. Get up from the floor. Next time, you will know that running only makes fools. `` He would help his son up from the floor, lifting his slender weight.
GaelicFIame: More noises and the movemenst of the man two seats down from her had her jumping in her seat. Quickly she turned to see what all the commotion was. The man that had been seated was moving towards the burly man and the younger one, well, he was flat on his back on the floor. Jocelyn shook her head, made a exaggerated exhale and slipped off her seat. Quickly she moved between the to men standing as their seem to be a moment where everyone was just looking at each other. She stepped carefully with a slight hike of her skirt with one hand while offering the other to the man on the floor. "Well... ye dun need tae jus lay there. Git up..." She glanced up to the two other men and just before she was about to open her mouth and scold the burly man for picking on the smaller one, she to came to realize they were father and son. Good thing she kept her mouth shut, otherwise she might find herself out on her own rear.
Memento Animus: Misinformed entirely, but Lucius was somewhat relieved to know that had this man not been his father and a foe intending him harm, someone would take up arms in his defense as well. However, Lucius might have need of his services later, after his father got through with him. Lucius swallowed hard, and dark eyes then turned to Roac, who had come to his aid, only to realize that his father made no offense, and apologised. He looked no more the fool than he, for Lucius was on his back and on the floor! Sighing heavily, his eyes then turned to the woman who seemed to have thoughts of also coming to his aid, but instead, offered him a hand to help him up much like his father did. The husky, deep tone of his father took his attention quickly, and his eyes darted from him to the female. ``Y-y-yes sir..`` He replied, taking both hands, though his father lifted him without much effort, a man who was nearly twice his size. Once on his feet, Lucius smoothed out his cloak, his eyes cast down to the floor as fingers gripped the side of his cloak, as if it would offer some sort of comfort and distraction. He was embarrassed, but moreso fearful of his father. ``Forgive me father...for wronging you..I-I..`` And dark eyes lifted to sweep around the room, before lowering once more. ``I knew not how to best speak to you...I shall not make such mistake again..`` Lucius apologised quickly, his voice low so that only his father would hear his hasty apology. What would be his fate at the hands of his father, Lucius knew that it was just rewarded for not seeking him out as soon as possible. Boyish uncertainly still stunted full manhood thoughts, but Lucius knew to humble himself before his father.
Roac AarIin: Roac cleared his throat once more. "I appreciate your lenience, good fellow. Let me buy you and your lad here a drink? Sounds like the pair of you are going to need them." He cracked a warm smile, glancing over his shoulder to where his pipe had fallen awkwardly, spilling it's now dead contents and snapping the long, curved stem right at the peak of its curvature. That was a shame, it was a simple but beautifully crafted piece that he had been gifted with by his one time master. Perhaps he could file down the jagged edge and use it as a shorter version of its former self. He turned his gaze back on the father and son pair, a small smile saved for the woman who had also seen fit to intervene. "So what'll you all be drinking?" His words were spoken in such a way that the lady would know he included her in his offer. It would only be horribly rude to do otherwise.
Durst Wax: The slightest shift of movements made his dark eyes glanced towards the woman who moved closer and hiked up her skirts to reach down and help Lucius as well, scolding him as if she were his mother. Of course, if she had been, she would be dead where she stood. Very lucky indeed. Once his son was up, he looked to him and watched his movements carefully. Even after coming back from the war, he still acted as a boy of 12. The smith sighed, hearing the unknown male's voice as he asked to buy a drink. `` That would be appreciated. We ALL might have a conversation then, perhaps get to the bottom of unanswered questions.`` Looking to the woman, he gave a short nod, before looking to his son as others moved. Stepping aside, he let his son go first, hearing his words in his head. `` Hold your chin up boy. Hide your shame for now. `` The smith did not believe in weak, not from his son. Time of play and toys were over, he was well into the age of a man and needed to start acting like it. Moving back to the table he grabbed his items so that everyone could go to the same table. Still behind Lucius, he spoke for him alone. `` When you run, it causes confusion. Never run again. `` A warning, with all seriousness as he looked to the other male. `` Whiskey. One round, the other I shall buy for thanks of coming to the aid of Lucius. How do you know Lucius?``
GaelicFIame: Once the young man was on his feet, she looked between the three. Her lips twisted in a lopsided and slightly annoyed fashion. A shake of her head to let them know her feelings on this. Not that she thought they wanted to know, but it was a habit. She stared at all three for a moment, her eyes lingered on the larger one until they all began to move towards a table as she along with the others were invited to join. As each man moved ahead of her, she followed, muttering to herself. "Men... such trouble makers." At the offer of the drink, she cast her eyes at a side glance. Her chin dipped and she pondered. Usually when a man offered to buy her a drink, they had less than honorable intentions. However, this one didn't seem like the sort so she simply nodded. "Aye, so long as ye dun try anything afterwards." She replied as she moved to join them while the Rose was now bringing her order to the table instead of the bar where she was before. She waited until they were all seat, not wanting to take another's chosen place. Looking to Roac. "Thank ye...fer tha drink." Looking to Lucius she asked. "Are ye alright?" Her eyes searching to see if anything appeared to be hurt.
Memento Animus: Perhaps with enough liquor he could get drunk again, for this was a night he might not wish to recall should it turn sour, and perhaps the drunken stupour would numb him to harsh but expected beatings that might be in store for him. But just would be their reward, for Lucius' indecision and hesitation to confront his father after the incidents surely made the man worry, something Lucius had not intended. Before his father, could Lucius act any more than that of a boy without it being seen as disrespect? Still learning that balance, he was. Eyes lifted and glanced to Roac, and then to his father at his reply. Unanswered indeed. Lucius swallowed hard, and at his father's beckoning, he stepped toward the table they would all sit at. However, the words of his father made him pause, and without glancing to the man that raised him, Lucius wiped expression from his features, matching a look that his father so easily wore, and then lifted his cleft chin upward, an act to retain some shred of dignity he had left. Even as he moved, he could still hear the warning of his father, to which he cleared his throat and nodded, giving his silent reply. Pulling out a chair, Lucius sat down beside his father, and brown eyes immediately found some sort of fascination with the woodgrain of the table. ``Whiskey as well..`` He commented, answering Roac's question about drink request. Large hands fell into his lap, and when the woman spoke to him, brown eyes tore themselves from the table's surface for a moment. His backside was aching horribly now from that unexpected and ungraceful fall, but the worse that would come of it would be a bruised back and rear, the least of his worries. ``Yes, I am fine...thank you my Lady..and thank you for helping me up earlier..`` Lucius replied, plainly, but sincere in his retort as eyes moved back to the table.
Roac AarIin: Roac gave a short nod as the smithy spoke his appreciation and his request. He soaked up the wishes of the others present before he made his way to the bar to place the orders, returning to the table, via his own mug of cider and the broken pieces of his pipe which he collected as he went. He took the remaining seat at the table. He took a deep draught from his flagon before he looked to the Smithy. "Your son and I have only met the once. He had a fair gash in his arm, and I closed it up for him. Roac Aarlin's the name, physician at your service." He offered the smithy his own broad but soft hand. No calluses were there, his hands more at home about a scalpel than a sword.
Durst Wax: Even the smith rose a thick brow at the woman's comment. That was what whores were for, she did not seem like a whore. Perhaps it was a way of flirting, the smithy was unsure, for he paid little attention to women's dangerous ways after his wife. Once seated, he moved his pipe to sit flat on the table and waited for his questions to be answered. The woman, instead spoke to Lucius and asked if he was alright. Of course he was. That spill was nothing compared to real pain. If only the smithy could get that through to Lucius. There were worse things in the world then facing your father. Dark eyes shifted towards the unknown male as he spoke of meeting his son and having cared for him. Rome held the same customs as the male had, offering his hand out for the greeter to shake. The smithy noted his name and reached his own hand out, but instead of placing them palm to palm he gripped the male's wrist, wrapping his fingers around the silk strands and tunic there, giving a soft grasp and releasing as the Roman's did. `` I am simply called the smithy. I run a local black smithing hut called the ' Iron Monger' here in town. Tell me, Lucius, how long have you been back from war? And of course, your name my lady. ``
GaelicFIame: No, it was no way of flirting. Jocelyn could care less about trying to get the attention of a man. She was looking out for herself and well, frankly they were to much trouble from what she knew of. She was an independent sort. This one liked to earn her keep and save what she could. Besides, men seem to run from her when her temper flared, just as well. When Lucius gave his reply and his thanks, her face began to soften some. She didn't look so stern and hard like. "Good and ye are welcome, but please, ye may jus call me Jocelyn."As she gave her name her eyes shifted from the son to his father and then Roac. Her eyes moved back to the smithy and to further answer him she said. "And Ay dun know ye son. At least nae until now..." She said with a slight smile. "This be tha first time we met." It seemed that Jocelyn would be saving a bit of coin tonight as drinks were being offered. At this point, the only thing she would be paying for was her food. Though she wasn't exactly coming off as warm and friendly at first, she was grateful for the offers. "Ay thank ye all for um... ye offers o'drinks. Mayhaps Ay can repay ye kindness in time." Said with a soft shrug of her shoulders.
Memento Animus: Compared to the gash that Roac had sown up some time ago, that slip and spill on the floor was minor. Lucius had his true taste of pain and now understood what agony truly meant...experienced it. But right now, even that paled in comparison to the guilt and shame he felt for his actions toward his father. Once his drink had been placed in front of him, Lucius gave his thanks,and pulled the mug filled with whiskey closer. While his father and Roac spoke and introduced themselves to each other, Lucius lifted the mug to his lips, and too a sip. He winced at the potency of the liquor..yes..something he was still getting use to. Pressing his lips together, Lucius swallowed, and placed the mug back down on the table. Jocelyn. Dark eyes turned to the woman who introduced herself as Jocelyn, and he dipped his chin to the woman respectfully. ``A true pleasure, Jocelyn.`` He replied. Had the Roman any heart to smile a true one, he would have offered it to Jocelyn. However, present circumstances left him composed and as his father said: hiding shame for now. Eyes turned back to his father as his next question was directed to him. ``Since Roac stitched and wrapped my arm, father. Perhaps..a month or so..I am not quite certain on the span of days that passed..`` Lucius admitted, for he was not completely aware of the days that passed, his mind was laboured with other thoughts and memories.
Durst Wax: Looking between the others at the table, his mind stayed focused on everything from the sounds of people coming in and out of the back door that lead to the kitchen, to any who moved in through the front, ready to spend coin. Lucius' answer did nothing to help what situation he had created. The woman's mind was noted as well, for he would remember them both well with mind full of pictures that lingered. `` It is nice to know that you would come to help someone you did not know. That is rare. Stupid to some perhaps, but noble to others. `` Blunt and serious, it was neither a compliment nor a insult, simply truth. Roac, must be a healer of sorts, or so he gathered. When the male said he had to make ready to leave, the smithy promised a drink would come to him at another time and the next round would be on him for Jocelyn and his son. Lucius drinking might have turned the heads of others, but it was only proving that Lucius was going to be a man and would take things as such. `` What is it you do Jocelyn?``
GaelicFIame: As Lucius gave his reply and the attempted smile, she only nodded. Noting that he seemed to still be troubled by something and she was sure it had something to do with the Smithy, his father. At hearing his father speak again, she redirected her attention back to the Smithy. "Aye... ay suppose ye be right Sir, but tae be honest with ye, Ay did nae like tha idea o' ye bullying a smaller young man. Tha being before Ay knew o' ye relation tae one another." She said. Jocelyn wasn't trying to by rude or coy, just speaking her mind. Which a lot of time seem to get her into a good deal of trouble. It seemed that Roac was needing to take his leave and so when he decided to part ways with them all, she would nod and smile to him. Thanking him once more before turning back to the others that remained. "Ay dae wot Ay can Sir... Ay cook, Ay clean, Ay sew. Wot ever it is tha be needed... Ay can dae. At least fer tha time being until Ay find meh something more permanent."
Memento Animus: There was little that could be said that would help his situation at this point, so come what may. He should have gone to his father long before now, and every day it lingered on his mind and conscious..yet uncertainty of how he and his actions in battle and the aftermath would be received halted him. He was wrong, and Lucius knew it, hence, he did not try to refute or propose rebutals against his father. Lucius knew better. His father was always blunt, and that was something that Lucius picked up on. While he was not nearly as blunt and stoic as his father, Lucius learned composure from him, temperament from the man that sat beside him. Jocelyn's reply made him arch a brow, and blink. Bold words. Very bold words. Though, in his humble opinion, his father had done nothing to bully anyone, simply grabbed his cloak and in his own haste, he fell. Eyes lifted to Roac and he bid the man a good night, knowing the man had much better things to tend to, but it was good to see him again...however brief a time it might have been. Jocelyn was not the only one seeking employment. Presently, he was as well, but in the meantime, doing odds and ends for Rose.
Durst Wax: The smithy would not take her words to a offensive level, for she was sure to be speaking her mind. After her goodbye to Roac, she said her list of duties, or things she could not do. Did the smithy not ask the question correctly? `` So you have many skills, but no set duty? `` It was not an accusation, simply a statement. `` Do you have a father to look out for you Jocelyn? If you do, then you would understand what means we take to protect our children or to make them who they should be. Had my son not come back from war and hide for a month's time, such a scene as this would never have come. Had my son come to me and not ran, he would not have fallen upon his ass in front of everyone in here. We create the actions of our fate and everything we do will seal it, causing a ripple in time of our own threads. There of course lies the inflictions of the eyes of others. What happened, was I grabbed what I could to prevent him from running from me, what others saw would be me using brute force to show my son his wrong doings. In the eyes of the beholder Jocelyn. What will be your next drink? `` Looking back to Lucius, he stared at his son's profile. `` In in a month's time, you have started to drink it seems. What other secrets do you keep?``
GaelicFIame: He seemed confused by her answer, and Jocelyn thought a moment, wondering if maybe she should have worded it better? "Aye, many skills ... and no, no set duty. Nor dae Ay 'ave a father tae look after meh." She took up the mug of cider she was drinking, taking in a couple of sips before setting it back down and then began to partake of the roast and potatoes that had been set before her. She didn't take tiny lil lady like bites, for she was no lady. But she didn't she didn't take over sized bites either. Jocelyn was no sloppy or poor mannered woman, she just lacked a few things that perhaps weren't considered Lady like. She drank and ate quietly as the Smithy spoke, nodding with his words. She understood him well enough and felt that maybe she should have chosen her words a lil better. Feeling the need to clarify what she meant, she washed down her last bite of food and then spoke. "Ay by no means doubt ye reasons good Sir, ye speak tha truth. Ay suppose wot Ay should 'ave said was ye looked like a bully after a smaller man." She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin then before looking between father and son. Lucius was very quiet, not much to say. Then again, if she were in his place, she suppose she'd not be very talkative either.
Memento Animus: And in three...two...one. That blunt and expressive nature of his father to speak his mind never failed to disappoint and was just as time as the morning sun did set and rise. Brown eyes turned to his father, and Lucius did well to keep silent as his father spoke. What more could he say? Nothing that his father said was untrue, so he could not call forth a fallacy if there was none to report. As his father went on, the topic momentarily shifting to him and his actions, Lucius sighed, and without thinking, fingers curled around the mug and Lucius downed nearly half of it right then and there. When he lowered the mug, another small wince from the liquor, but that had been it. Roac had been the man to introduce him to drinking whiskey, but for the purpose of pain. Lucius had been foolish enough to believe veteran soldiers of war that whiskey--and lots of it--could chase away the thoughts that haunted his mind. Setting the mug down, eyes turned to his father and his brow arched. ``Yes. I was made aware that it helped to dull pain physically and mentally. Not to mention it seems to be a fitting drink on a cold night.`` He replied, pausing, before continuing. ``What secrets do you keep from me, father? You have lived longer than I, so I do not doubt your list is longer than my own.`` He was going to get his hide beat for that perhaps, but maybe it was worth it.
Durst Wax: Acting like a lady or no would get no looks from the blacksmith. He could have cared less if she drooled upon her food. He was about to begin on his own meal and take it in faster then she was. He ate like a soldier with little time, even when the shop would open at his hands. Lucius' answer or response seemed to go unnoticed as if the larger man did not hear him. He heard him well, but said nothing in return It was not until his meal was finished, that he looked to Jocelyn and then to Lucius before returning his eyes towards his mug. Did Lucius truly want to get into such words and actions here in front of a stranger? `` Jocelyn, I do hope you find a duty suited for you and one that you will find your skills well in. What ever it may be. `` Turning to Lucius, he made sure to address him last. `` You show much disrespect boy. In your actions and words. Drink your whiskey, find strength where you can. You will need many things to explain your actions and now this attitude. `` Turning towards the woman, he pushed his plate slightly towards the middle, suggesting he was done with it silently. `` It is a shame you do not have a father to look after you, but you seem to do well enough. May the gods see that it continues.``
GaelicFIame: "And bout tha drink, Ay be taking another cider iffn ye will." She said when chance was given, not wanting to cut he or Lucius off when the two were speaking to one another. The Smithy too had began to eat and once he was done, he looked between herself and his son. Things quickly began to grow tense between the two and here is where she knew she no longer needed to speak. This was where it would remained between father and son, so she would take up her fork, fidget with a potato or two before eating them and wash it down with drink. Once she set her mug back down, The large man addressed her again and she lifted brown eyes in his direction. "Thank ye good Sir and Ay should like tae hope so as well." She paused a moment before she'd speak up again. "Ay 'ave never known meh parents... and aye...Ay mus be do'n something right fer Ay am alive and well still. Perhaps there is a greater being looking out fer meh." She said with a small smile. She then finished off her meal and drank the last of her cider before growing quiet and feeling a bit awkward, like perhaps she was invading in a personal discussion by simply being there. However, she'd do the polite thing, stay and keep quiet, hope that the conversation would turn to something that everyone could perhaps enjoy speaking on.
Memento Animus: Presently, Lucius had little appetite for food or anything more than the mug of whiskey. But perhaps his words and rebutal were evidence if still lingering pride, what little he had left now. Lucius meant no disrespect to his father of course, but he had no right or reason to be pointing at him about secrets or questioning him when the man had his own..one of having concerned the fate and reason why he had no mother to love him. That was a story that his father left incomplete. Disrespect? Perhaps, and to that, Lucius said nothing at first, letting his father speak what he wished and letting him finish, as was proper and respectful in itself. ``I meant no disrespect, father, by action or words.`` He replied, honestly, as he took another sip of his whiskey and turned his gaze back to Jocelyn, the woman that was presently in a separate conversation with his father as well. So she never knew her parents? Well, Lucius only knew one...his father. Lucius cleared his throat, fingers silently tapping on the sides of his mug. ``That you are, Jocelyn. I sympathize with you, though, for all I have is my honourable father...he raised me by his own hand and guidance. But I have never known the warmth of a mother, or their instinctive gentility.`` Lucius replied, before downing the rest of his whiskey, setting the now empty mug on the table.
Durst Wax: Attention shifted back and forth between the girl and the boy at the table with him. Her, speaking of having never known her parents. Maybe that was for the best. The smithy had a strange look on life and he did not deny that to himself. Lucius' words were given a nod, but nothing more. A man did not need his mother to be a man, but the smithy resisted saying that. Rising from his seat, he leaned over to place a few coins on the table, enough to pat for them all and a few more drinks should they want any. `` I must go and open my shop now. Lucius, come soon. Jocelyn, be safe. `` Picking up his pipe, he placed the long end back into his mouth and turned to move away from them, leaving Lucius a bit more time to gain himself should he need it.
GaelicFIame: Not knowing her parents was perhaps only one reason why she was so hard... a lil tougher than perhaps most women. Growing up in orphanages, traveling with gypsies, living and raising yourself on the streets. It wasn't a grand life, but a life just the same. Where some were book smart, Jocelyn was street smart. Taking things as they came and should she get knocked down, well she'd jus pick herself up and go at it again. When Lucius spoke, she looked to him, nodded and replied. "And from tha looks o'things, he be doing a fine job. Ye 'ave made it thus far...became a young man..aye?" She said with a small bit of a smile. She looked back to the smithy and upon his rising she watched as placed coins for all that was had and more if it were to be. As the large man spoke of needing to leave she nodded and gave a genuine smile to him. "Thank ye sir fer all ye 'ave done this night. Mayhaps Ay can return ye kindness by tending tae some things fer ye. Cleaning.. cooking.. tha sorts." She watched as he then moved off, leaving her and Lucius alone to talk more and perhaps drink more.
Memento Animus: Lucius sometimes pondered what it would be like to have a mother as well as a father. Would he be different than he was today? Lucius did not know for certain, but he could not say that he did not think about it a few times. Make no mistake, he loved his father dearly, but as any child, he was not perfect and could not always please his father...though he did try to. A nod was Jocelyn's words of his father doing a fine job in raising him. It was true, the man hand, and Lucius was grateful for what his father had done for him all his life...since he was a baby. Brown eyes traveled to his father as he excused himself from the table to head back home..where he would have to venture to eventually. ``Yes, father.`` He replied, before turning his attention back to Jocelyn. ``As much as I would like to linger and speak with you more...I think it is best not to make my father wait longer than he has. There is much that has been left unsaid between us...`` Lucius commented, glancing to the door for a moment, as if he could see through it and see his father. Sighing softly, eyes turned back to Jocelyn, and he forced a smile for both their sakes. ``I pray we shall meet again, Jocelyn.`` And with that, he slowly rose from the chair and adjusted his cloak before following in the footsteps of his father.
GaelicFIame: Jocelyn turned back toward Lucius as he spoke to her once more. Nodding in agreement with the things said. "Ay understand.. ye go.. mayhaps we can talk again another time, aye?" She asked as she kept to her seat. As he bid her good night and left, she called to him. "Ye be well also..." Jocelyn remained long enough to finish her drink his father had bought her. Soon after, she left, off to find a place to sleep for the night.
GaelicFIame: Jocelyn found herself walking alone down those very cobblestone paths. A dark muddy brown colored cloak kept the young woman's body from becoming to cool. Long brown hair swayed with each step as a light breezes came and went. Big brown eyes would shift about, just to keep a check on her surroundings. She wasn't easily scared or frightened, just pecular and watchful. The small young woman noticed the large frame of a male as he made his way into the Briar Rose. A hand moved to the small leather pouch tucked neatly away and gave it a soft toss. A few coins jingled and she pondered a moment. It'd be nice for a decent meal tonight, even if it meant parting with what few coins she had. Again she moved, following after the man and entering into the Inn. The difference of tempature quickly noted as the warm welcoming Inns atmosphere began to chase away the cool chills of the night air. She moved to stand by the fire first, getting warm was her first priority.
Memento Animus: With the dying of the sun, Lucius as well as others had taken to drawing within the inns and taverns, though the reasons differed greatly. Lucius had no reason to be out and about this time, and despite the fact that he had been a man for some time now. While staying at the inn, he pulled his weight to compensate for his low pay, taking up residence in the inn for the now. His bound arm had healed a great deal, and now it no longer hurt to move it, though the fine stitching of the surgeon Roac had been removed now, setting the wound to mend by the body's natural abilities. Rose had asked him to fetch a few more logs for the hearth, which was becoming a rather popular place to gather in the wintry months of the year. Without hesitation, Lucius pulled on the plum wool cloak over his shoulder, and set out the back door. Grabbing the axe leaning against the side of the establishment, Lucius lifted it and chopped another armful of logs for the hearth, and once that task was done, he gathered his collection of logs and headed back inside. The cook opened the door for him, to which the man received a soft thanks, before he stepped out into the main room. The groaning door could be heard from the kitchen, which had prompted Rose to come out to greet her new patrons. With arms full, Lucius stepped out behind her, and headed toward the hearth..though the sight of one patron had him stopping dead in his tracks and journey to the fire. Lucius only made it about halfway, before his eyes widened and the sight of...his...father. His father that he had not seen since he left for the battle of Dumfrieshire. Oh dear. Oh damn. Lucius swallowed hard as he stared at the man, like a doe caught in the sight of a hunter. Suddenly, as if life had sprung from his stationary stance, Lucius dropped the logs he had been carrying with a loud THUD and turned to head for the stairs.
Roac AarIin: There was no denying that winter was well and truly setting in on the cold, northerly isle of Skye. The air was crisp and his breath misted out in great plumed as he walked. The sound of muffled talk mixed with the rhythmic echoing of his footfall permeated the cobbled street, punctuated by the unmistakable sound of a sharp axe head splitting the grain of wood. Fuel being stocked for the evenings fire, no doubt. He was taking a casual walk to the briar rose, in no particular rush. There was something about the crisp wintry air that made him feel vital and alive, as though his blood was striving to pump hotter in his veins. He wore a royal blue scarf of thick wool, tied about his neck and tucked deep into his tunic, which was laced up right as high as it would go. His fingers were tucked into the pockets of his doeskin breeches to prevent them becoming too chill, yet his toes were beginning to take on a familiar numbness. He too, puffed at a long stemmed pipe, holding it in place between his teeth. It was only a winter habit for him, a season begun with work and filled with comfort and confinement, or so he had always known it. Yes, it was about time he reached the Inn, the lure of the fire he knew would be alight already bidding him walk faster. It took him a minute or two to reach the door, where he pulled his hand from his pocket and twisted the frozen brass knob, pushing it open, making sure he stepped in swiftly and closed it behind him, lest he vent all the heat the cosy room had accumulated. Untucking his scarf, he loosed the knot, and hung the strip of wool up on the hook not far from the door and headed to the bar, where he promptly ordered a large mug of warmed cider. Exchanging a few coins for it, he made toward the fireside, only to see the once-upon-a-time Squire, Lucius, drop an armful of wood and bolt toward the stairs...Well, at least he was mobile once again...
Durst Wax: Dark brown eyes lifted to see the woman that had been coming in right behind him; move herself towards the fire to warm her limbs. The smith preferred to be cold for a time, because once he was within his hut, he would be sweating and ready for the cool air on his skin. Lowering his eyes for a moment, he placed the pipe onto the table top to reach for his own bag filled with enough coin for a meal before he heard the door open again and just as he moved his eyes towards the front to see the male with an interesting hair color, another sound had his eyes swing towards the one who entered from the back way. Well they were coming in at all sides were they not? Ah, but this one held a particular interest in the blacksmith's eyes. One brow rose as he watched his son drop the logs upon the floor, making a loud THUD THUDTHUD sound before he turned and ....where was he going? ``Lucius`` That husky tone said his name with a calm meaning, but firm. Already he was moving from his seat and walking around the table. It was hard to know what he felt. Anger? Confusion? When Lucius paused as his name, it gave the smith those few moments to speed up and get closer enough to reach out and grab that plum cloak by the end with his roughen hand, keeping the boy from running too far.
GaelicFIame: Those big brown eyes would simply take in the many faces of the patrons about her. A soft smile made for herself as she nodded in a sense. It was almost as if she were telling herself it was a good idea to come here. The people seemed friendly enough, the room held a cozy likeness to it and it didn't seem like to much trouble happened here. Then, at the sound of the door opening once more, her brown eyes spotted the man that now entered. She was about to him and the other male that looked her way. That was until the loud thudding sounds had her cutting those eyes to its source. A young man dropping logs only to dash off up a set of stairs. One brow, then the other arched as she began to wonder. Softly speaking to herself she would say. "Well, seems Ay might 'ave spoken tae soon..." And here she thought she'd find a trouble free night. Things were looking just the opposite though as the large man stood to his feet and moved after the younger man. Jocelyn watched, giving a shake of her head before she began to move over to where all other cloaks, coats and such were to be hanged. Her own was removed and added to the collection before heading towards the bar. It was time to make that order of something warm to drink and eat. With any luck, she'd have just enough coin for it. Looking to Rose she spoke up. "Ay'll 'ave what ever it is this can get me tha be warm tae drink and eat m'lady." The small pouch of coins was placed upon the bar before Rose and she turned to look to where the others had been. Eyes stilling on the man near her, giving a short nod before they turned back to Rose and she slid into a seat.
Memento Animus: Oh fie! He had not been counting on his father to be present and here. Lucius would admit that he had been reluctant to visit his father since his return, unsure how to relate to him the tale of his first battle. Would his father be ashamed or angry with him? Lucius did not know, and he certainly did not want to anger or dishonour his father, or think him a craven for not remaining with his knight and dying there with him. Despite the command of his knight to go, Lucius still found it hard to believe that leaving was the truest thing to do. But fate would force him to confront his father...and perhaps on most unhappy terms. That stoic and plain expression his father was infamous at wearing made it all the more challenging to decipher the man's expression and feelings. His heart was pacing quickly as he dashed for the steps, not caring that others looked to him with a confused look. Lucius did not care far, however, and despite the sound of his name, Lucius fled soon after, seeing his father rising. The forward motion was suddenly stopped by his father's hand seizing his cloak, and having not eyes in the back of his head, the squire failed to see his father's quick actions. Jerked back by his own haste and his father's steadfast grip, Lucius slipped, falling backwards and hitting the floor with a thud. Oh, that hurt, as booted feet left the ground for a moment, before he landed again, and none too gracefully. Groaning softly, Lucius winced as he laid on the ground, flat on his back, and staring upward...to his father. The air had been knocked swiftly from his lungs, and now he was breathing hard to compensate and regain that which had been lost. ``H-h-hello...father..`` Lucius replied uneasily.
Roac AarIin: It was the way the man rumbled the lad's name before rising and jumping on his heels that had Roac's hackles rising. There was fear in the squire, and this burly man was the source of it. There was no denying himself the feeling of reighteous crusader that rose up when he saw some form of injustice. Or at least what he perceived as injustice despite how misinformed he might be. He swiftly slammed his mug down on the nearest table, some of that warm cider slopping over it's rim, his pipe clattering from his teeth to the ground, as the martial artist in him flared up once again. He moved with speed, one hand opening and facing palm out, held just before his left nipple, the other made into a 'gun shape' [like you do when you're a kid!] and extended out before him palm up. A strange stance for any one to take up, yet there was a dangerous grace to his poise. "Be very careful about what you do next." His face was a picture of ghostlike neutrality and calm, though his words held and fearful intensity. It wasn't until Lucius bounced off the floor, addressing the man as father that Roac's eyes widened a moment and he had the grace to redden in stark embarassment. "I..." He gave a small swallow, looking to his left and right. "I apologise..." He coughed a little, as though urging some sort of sound to fill the inevitable silence that followed.
Durst Wax: No doubt the few patrons that were in here looked to the unknown father and son, watching the display of the boy trying to escape a much larger and older male. Who knew what ran through the minds of the outsiders. The smith cared not for the eyes of others, this was a matter that would not be left undone. What kind of son would return from war and not tell his father he was home? The Smith was unsure what he felt, but answers would be swift, or his son would feel his wrath. Rose shook her head and moved along to pick up the fallen logs, complaining about the drama, while the Smith yanked back on Lucius slightly, not meaning to make his son tumble to his rear, but it worked well just the same. At the sound of his son's greeting, he knew he was fearful. Good. A son should fear a father's wrath as man did to God. Without his seed in his body Lucius would not be. Turning at the soft sounds of boots along the wooden floor, he looked partly over his shoulder to see the male who had recently come in, approaching him with some strange style in his stance. The sounds of the other woman talking was heard, the comments of other patrons, the movement of the tender, and even the way the fire flamed flickered and licked along the new logs. Nothing was put out of his mind as he waited for the male to do more. Just because the stance looked strange, did not mean the Smith should look past it, for it could cause pain he was sure. The next few questions rose, who was this man and why was he coming to Lucius' defense? The apology that followed was taken, for despite his look, the smith was not an unkind man. `` It is a simple mistake anyone could have made. It is good to know that some will take steps to help others, never the less. `` Now that the man was not a threat anymore, he looked back to his son and moved his hand out to him. `` Hello boy. Get up from the floor. Next time, you will know that running only makes fools. `` He would help his son up from the floor, lifting his slender weight.
GaelicFIame: More noises and the movemenst of the man two seats down from her had her jumping in her seat. Quickly she turned to see what all the commotion was. The man that had been seated was moving towards the burly man and the younger one, well, he was flat on his back on the floor. Jocelyn shook her head, made a exaggerated exhale and slipped off her seat. Quickly she moved between the to men standing as their seem to be a moment where everyone was just looking at each other. She stepped carefully with a slight hike of her skirt with one hand while offering the other to the man on the floor. "Well... ye dun need tae jus lay there. Git up..." She glanced up to the two other men and just before she was about to open her mouth and scold the burly man for picking on the smaller one, she to came to realize they were father and son. Good thing she kept her mouth shut, otherwise she might find herself out on her own rear.
Memento Animus: Misinformed entirely, but Lucius was somewhat relieved to know that had this man not been his father and a foe intending him harm, someone would take up arms in his defense as well. However, Lucius might have need of his services later, after his father got through with him. Lucius swallowed hard, and dark eyes then turned to Roac, who had come to his aid, only to realize that his father made no offense, and apologised. He looked no more the fool than he, for Lucius was on his back and on the floor! Sighing heavily, his eyes then turned to the woman who seemed to have thoughts of also coming to his aid, but instead, offered him a hand to help him up much like his father did. The husky, deep tone of his father took his attention quickly, and his eyes darted from him to the female. ``Y-y-yes sir..`` He replied, taking both hands, though his father lifted him without much effort, a man who was nearly twice his size. Once on his feet, Lucius smoothed out his cloak, his eyes cast down to the floor as fingers gripped the side of his cloak, as if it would offer some sort of comfort and distraction. He was embarrassed, but moreso fearful of his father. ``Forgive me father...for wronging you..I-I..`` And dark eyes lifted to sweep around the room, before lowering once more. ``I knew not how to best speak to you...I shall not make such mistake again..`` Lucius apologised quickly, his voice low so that only his father would hear his hasty apology. What would be his fate at the hands of his father, Lucius knew that it was just rewarded for not seeking him out as soon as possible. Boyish uncertainly still stunted full manhood thoughts, but Lucius knew to humble himself before his father.
Roac AarIin: Roac cleared his throat once more. "I appreciate your lenience, good fellow. Let me buy you and your lad here a drink? Sounds like the pair of you are going to need them." He cracked a warm smile, glancing over his shoulder to where his pipe had fallen awkwardly, spilling it's now dead contents and snapping the long, curved stem right at the peak of its curvature. That was a shame, it was a simple but beautifully crafted piece that he had been gifted with by his one time master. Perhaps he could file down the jagged edge and use it as a shorter version of its former self. He turned his gaze back on the father and son pair, a small smile saved for the woman who had also seen fit to intervene. "So what'll you all be drinking?" His words were spoken in such a way that the lady would know he included her in his offer. It would only be horribly rude to do otherwise.
Durst Wax: The slightest shift of movements made his dark eyes glanced towards the woman who moved closer and hiked up her skirts to reach down and help Lucius as well, scolding him as if she were his mother. Of course, if she had been, she would be dead where she stood. Very lucky indeed. Once his son was up, he looked to him and watched his movements carefully. Even after coming back from the war, he still acted as a boy of 12. The smith sighed, hearing the unknown male's voice as he asked to buy a drink. `` That would be appreciated. We ALL might have a conversation then, perhaps get to the bottom of unanswered questions.`` Looking to the woman, he gave a short nod, before looking to his son as others moved. Stepping aside, he let his son go first, hearing his words in his head. `` Hold your chin up boy. Hide your shame for now. `` The smith did not believe in weak, not from his son. Time of play and toys were over, he was well into the age of a man and needed to start acting like it. Moving back to the table he grabbed his items so that everyone could go to the same table. Still behind Lucius, he spoke for him alone. `` When you run, it causes confusion. Never run again. `` A warning, with all seriousness as he looked to the other male. `` Whiskey. One round, the other I shall buy for thanks of coming to the aid of Lucius. How do you know Lucius?``
GaelicFIame: Once the young man was on his feet, she looked between the three. Her lips twisted in a lopsided and slightly annoyed fashion. A shake of her head to let them know her feelings on this. Not that she thought they wanted to know, but it was a habit. She stared at all three for a moment, her eyes lingered on the larger one until they all began to move towards a table as she along with the others were invited to join. As each man moved ahead of her, she followed, muttering to herself. "Men... such trouble makers." At the offer of the drink, she cast her eyes at a side glance. Her chin dipped and she pondered. Usually when a man offered to buy her a drink, they had less than honorable intentions. However, this one didn't seem like the sort so she simply nodded. "Aye, so long as ye dun try anything afterwards." She replied as she moved to join them while the Rose was now bringing her order to the table instead of the bar where she was before. She waited until they were all seat, not wanting to take another's chosen place. Looking to Roac. "Thank ye...fer tha drink." Looking to Lucius she asked. "Are ye alright?" Her eyes searching to see if anything appeared to be hurt.
Memento Animus: Perhaps with enough liquor he could get drunk again, for this was a night he might not wish to recall should it turn sour, and perhaps the drunken stupour would numb him to harsh but expected beatings that might be in store for him. But just would be their reward, for Lucius' indecision and hesitation to confront his father after the incidents surely made the man worry, something Lucius had not intended. Before his father, could Lucius act any more than that of a boy without it being seen as disrespect? Still learning that balance, he was. Eyes lifted and glanced to Roac, and then to his father at his reply. Unanswered indeed. Lucius swallowed hard, and at his father's beckoning, he stepped toward the table they would all sit at. However, the words of his father made him pause, and without glancing to the man that raised him, Lucius wiped expression from his features, matching a look that his father so easily wore, and then lifted his cleft chin upward, an act to retain some shred of dignity he had left. Even as he moved, he could still hear the warning of his father, to which he cleared his throat and nodded, giving his silent reply. Pulling out a chair, Lucius sat down beside his father, and brown eyes immediately found some sort of fascination with the woodgrain of the table. ``Whiskey as well..`` He commented, answering Roac's question about drink request. Large hands fell into his lap, and when the woman spoke to him, brown eyes tore themselves from the table's surface for a moment. His backside was aching horribly now from that unexpected and ungraceful fall, but the worse that would come of it would be a bruised back and rear, the least of his worries. ``Yes, I am fine...thank you my Lady..and thank you for helping me up earlier..`` Lucius replied, plainly, but sincere in his retort as eyes moved back to the table.
Roac AarIin: Roac gave a short nod as the smithy spoke his appreciation and his request. He soaked up the wishes of the others present before he made his way to the bar to place the orders, returning to the table, via his own mug of cider and the broken pieces of his pipe which he collected as he went. He took the remaining seat at the table. He took a deep draught from his flagon before he looked to the Smithy. "Your son and I have only met the once. He had a fair gash in his arm, and I closed it up for him. Roac Aarlin's the name, physician at your service." He offered the smithy his own broad but soft hand. No calluses were there, his hands more at home about a scalpel than a sword.
Durst Wax: Even the smith rose a thick brow at the woman's comment. That was what whores were for, she did not seem like a whore. Perhaps it was a way of flirting, the smithy was unsure, for he paid little attention to women's dangerous ways after his wife. Once seated, he moved his pipe to sit flat on the table and waited for his questions to be answered. The woman, instead spoke to Lucius and asked if he was alright. Of course he was. That spill was nothing compared to real pain. If only the smithy could get that through to Lucius. There were worse things in the world then facing your father. Dark eyes shifted towards the unknown male as he spoke of meeting his son and having cared for him. Rome held the same customs as the male had, offering his hand out for the greeter to shake. The smithy noted his name and reached his own hand out, but instead of placing them palm to palm he gripped the male's wrist, wrapping his fingers around the silk strands and tunic there, giving a soft grasp and releasing as the Roman's did. `` I am simply called the smithy. I run a local black smithing hut called the ' Iron Monger' here in town. Tell me, Lucius, how long have you been back from war? And of course, your name my lady. ``
GaelicFIame: No, it was no way of flirting. Jocelyn could care less about trying to get the attention of a man. She was looking out for herself and well, frankly they were to much trouble from what she knew of. She was an independent sort. This one liked to earn her keep and save what she could. Besides, men seem to run from her when her temper flared, just as well. When Lucius gave his reply and his thanks, her face began to soften some. She didn't look so stern and hard like. "Good and ye are welcome, but please, ye may jus call me Jocelyn."As she gave her name her eyes shifted from the son to his father and then Roac. Her eyes moved back to the smithy and to further answer him she said. "And Ay dun know ye son. At least nae until now..." She said with a slight smile. "This be tha first time we met." It seemed that Jocelyn would be saving a bit of coin tonight as drinks were being offered. At this point, the only thing she would be paying for was her food. Though she wasn't exactly coming off as warm and friendly at first, she was grateful for the offers. "Ay thank ye all for um... ye offers o'drinks. Mayhaps Ay can repay ye kindness in time." Said with a soft shrug of her shoulders.
Memento Animus: Compared to the gash that Roac had sown up some time ago, that slip and spill on the floor was minor. Lucius had his true taste of pain and now understood what agony truly meant...experienced it. But right now, even that paled in comparison to the guilt and shame he felt for his actions toward his father. Once his drink had been placed in front of him, Lucius gave his thanks,and pulled the mug filled with whiskey closer. While his father and Roac spoke and introduced themselves to each other, Lucius lifted the mug to his lips, and too a sip. He winced at the potency of the liquor..yes..something he was still getting use to. Pressing his lips together, Lucius swallowed, and placed the mug back down on the table. Jocelyn. Dark eyes turned to the woman who introduced herself as Jocelyn, and he dipped his chin to the woman respectfully. ``A true pleasure, Jocelyn.`` He replied. Had the Roman any heart to smile a true one, he would have offered it to Jocelyn. However, present circumstances left him composed and as his father said: hiding shame for now. Eyes turned back to his father as his next question was directed to him. ``Since Roac stitched and wrapped my arm, father. Perhaps..a month or so..I am not quite certain on the span of days that passed..`` Lucius admitted, for he was not completely aware of the days that passed, his mind was laboured with other thoughts and memories.
Durst Wax: Looking between the others at the table, his mind stayed focused on everything from the sounds of people coming in and out of the back door that lead to the kitchen, to any who moved in through the front, ready to spend coin. Lucius' answer did nothing to help what situation he had created. The woman's mind was noted as well, for he would remember them both well with mind full of pictures that lingered. `` It is nice to know that you would come to help someone you did not know. That is rare. Stupid to some perhaps, but noble to others. `` Blunt and serious, it was neither a compliment nor a insult, simply truth. Roac, must be a healer of sorts, or so he gathered. When the male said he had to make ready to leave, the smithy promised a drink would come to him at another time and the next round would be on him for Jocelyn and his son. Lucius drinking might have turned the heads of others, but it was only proving that Lucius was going to be a man and would take things as such. `` What is it you do Jocelyn?``
GaelicFIame: As Lucius gave his reply and the attempted smile, she only nodded. Noting that he seemed to still be troubled by something and she was sure it had something to do with the Smithy, his father. At hearing his father speak again, she redirected her attention back to the Smithy. "Aye... ay suppose ye be right Sir, but tae be honest with ye, Ay did nae like tha idea o' ye bullying a smaller young man. Tha being before Ay knew o' ye relation tae one another." She said. Jocelyn wasn't trying to by rude or coy, just speaking her mind. Which a lot of time seem to get her into a good deal of trouble. It seemed that Roac was needing to take his leave and so when he decided to part ways with them all, she would nod and smile to him. Thanking him once more before turning back to the others that remained. "Ay dae wot Ay can Sir... Ay cook, Ay clean, Ay sew. Wot ever it is tha be needed... Ay can dae. At least fer tha time being until Ay find meh something more permanent."
Memento Animus: There was little that could be said that would help his situation at this point, so come what may. He should have gone to his father long before now, and every day it lingered on his mind and conscious..yet uncertainty of how he and his actions in battle and the aftermath would be received halted him. He was wrong, and Lucius knew it, hence, he did not try to refute or propose rebutals against his father. Lucius knew better. His father was always blunt, and that was something that Lucius picked up on. While he was not nearly as blunt and stoic as his father, Lucius learned composure from him, temperament from the man that sat beside him. Jocelyn's reply made him arch a brow, and blink. Bold words. Very bold words. Though, in his humble opinion, his father had done nothing to bully anyone, simply grabbed his cloak and in his own haste, he fell. Eyes lifted to Roac and he bid the man a good night, knowing the man had much better things to tend to, but it was good to see him again...however brief a time it might have been. Jocelyn was not the only one seeking employment. Presently, he was as well, but in the meantime, doing odds and ends for Rose.
Durst Wax: The smithy would not take her words to a offensive level, for she was sure to be speaking her mind. After her goodbye to Roac, she said her list of duties, or things she could not do. Did the smithy not ask the question correctly? `` So you have many skills, but no set duty? `` It was not an accusation, simply a statement. `` Do you have a father to look out for you Jocelyn? If you do, then you would understand what means we take to protect our children or to make them who they should be. Had my son not come back from war and hide for a month's time, such a scene as this would never have come. Had my son come to me and not ran, he would not have fallen upon his ass in front of everyone in here. We create the actions of our fate and everything we do will seal it, causing a ripple in time of our own threads. There of course lies the inflictions of the eyes of others. What happened, was I grabbed what I could to prevent him from running from me, what others saw would be me using brute force to show my son his wrong doings. In the eyes of the beholder Jocelyn. What will be your next drink? `` Looking back to Lucius, he stared at his son's profile. `` In in a month's time, you have started to drink it seems. What other secrets do you keep?``
GaelicFIame: He seemed confused by her answer, and Jocelyn thought a moment, wondering if maybe she should have worded it better? "Aye, many skills ... and no, no set duty. Nor dae Ay 'ave a father tae look after meh." She took up the mug of cider she was drinking, taking in a couple of sips before setting it back down and then began to partake of the roast and potatoes that had been set before her. She didn't take tiny lil lady like bites, for she was no lady. But she didn't she didn't take over sized bites either. Jocelyn was no sloppy or poor mannered woman, she just lacked a few things that perhaps weren't considered Lady like. She drank and ate quietly as the Smithy spoke, nodding with his words. She understood him well enough and felt that maybe she should have chosen her words a lil better. Feeling the need to clarify what she meant, she washed down her last bite of food and then spoke. "Ay by no means doubt ye reasons good Sir, ye speak tha truth. Ay suppose wot Ay should 'ave said was ye looked like a bully after a smaller man." She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin then before looking between father and son. Lucius was very quiet, not much to say. Then again, if she were in his place, she suppose she'd not be very talkative either.
Memento Animus: And in three...two...one. That blunt and expressive nature of his father to speak his mind never failed to disappoint and was just as time as the morning sun did set and rise. Brown eyes turned to his father, and Lucius did well to keep silent as his father spoke. What more could he say? Nothing that his father said was untrue, so he could not call forth a fallacy if there was none to report. As his father went on, the topic momentarily shifting to him and his actions, Lucius sighed, and without thinking, fingers curled around the mug and Lucius downed nearly half of it right then and there. When he lowered the mug, another small wince from the liquor, but that had been it. Roac had been the man to introduce him to drinking whiskey, but for the purpose of pain. Lucius had been foolish enough to believe veteran soldiers of war that whiskey--and lots of it--could chase away the thoughts that haunted his mind. Setting the mug down, eyes turned to his father and his brow arched. ``Yes. I was made aware that it helped to dull pain physically and mentally. Not to mention it seems to be a fitting drink on a cold night.`` He replied, pausing, before continuing. ``What secrets do you keep from me, father? You have lived longer than I, so I do not doubt your list is longer than my own.`` He was going to get his hide beat for that perhaps, but maybe it was worth it.
Durst Wax: Acting like a lady or no would get no looks from the blacksmith. He could have cared less if she drooled upon her food. He was about to begin on his own meal and take it in faster then she was. He ate like a soldier with little time, even when the shop would open at his hands. Lucius' answer or response seemed to go unnoticed as if the larger man did not hear him. He heard him well, but said nothing in return It was not until his meal was finished, that he looked to Jocelyn and then to Lucius before returning his eyes towards his mug. Did Lucius truly want to get into such words and actions here in front of a stranger? `` Jocelyn, I do hope you find a duty suited for you and one that you will find your skills well in. What ever it may be. `` Turning to Lucius, he made sure to address him last. `` You show much disrespect boy. In your actions and words. Drink your whiskey, find strength where you can. You will need many things to explain your actions and now this attitude. `` Turning towards the woman, he pushed his plate slightly towards the middle, suggesting he was done with it silently. `` It is a shame you do not have a father to look after you, but you seem to do well enough. May the gods see that it continues.``
GaelicFIame: "And bout tha drink, Ay be taking another cider iffn ye will." She said when chance was given, not wanting to cut he or Lucius off when the two were speaking to one another. The Smithy too had began to eat and once he was done, he looked between herself and his son. Things quickly began to grow tense between the two and here is where she knew she no longer needed to speak. This was where it would remained between father and son, so she would take up her fork, fidget with a potato or two before eating them and wash it down with drink. Once she set her mug back down, The large man addressed her again and she lifted brown eyes in his direction. "Thank ye good Sir and Ay should like tae hope so as well." She paused a moment before she'd speak up again. "Ay 'ave never known meh parents... and aye...Ay mus be do'n something right fer Ay am alive and well still. Perhaps there is a greater being looking out fer meh." She said with a small smile. She then finished off her meal and drank the last of her cider before growing quiet and feeling a bit awkward, like perhaps she was invading in a personal discussion by simply being there. However, she'd do the polite thing, stay and keep quiet, hope that the conversation would turn to something that everyone could perhaps enjoy speaking on.
Memento Animus: Presently, Lucius had little appetite for food or anything more than the mug of whiskey. But perhaps his words and rebutal were evidence if still lingering pride, what little he had left now. Lucius meant no disrespect to his father of course, but he had no right or reason to be pointing at him about secrets or questioning him when the man had his own..one of having concerned the fate and reason why he had no mother to love him. That was a story that his father left incomplete. Disrespect? Perhaps, and to that, Lucius said nothing at first, letting his father speak what he wished and letting him finish, as was proper and respectful in itself. ``I meant no disrespect, father, by action or words.`` He replied, honestly, as he took another sip of his whiskey and turned his gaze back to Jocelyn, the woman that was presently in a separate conversation with his father as well. So she never knew her parents? Well, Lucius only knew one...his father. Lucius cleared his throat, fingers silently tapping on the sides of his mug. ``That you are, Jocelyn. I sympathize with you, though, for all I have is my honourable father...he raised me by his own hand and guidance. But I have never known the warmth of a mother, or their instinctive gentility.`` Lucius replied, before downing the rest of his whiskey, setting the now empty mug on the table.
Durst Wax: Attention shifted back and forth between the girl and the boy at the table with him. Her, speaking of having never known her parents. Maybe that was for the best. The smithy had a strange look on life and he did not deny that to himself. Lucius' words were given a nod, but nothing more. A man did not need his mother to be a man, but the smithy resisted saying that. Rising from his seat, he leaned over to place a few coins on the table, enough to pat for them all and a few more drinks should they want any. `` I must go and open my shop now. Lucius, come soon. Jocelyn, be safe. `` Picking up his pipe, he placed the long end back into his mouth and turned to move away from them, leaving Lucius a bit more time to gain himself should he need it.
GaelicFIame: Not knowing her parents was perhaps only one reason why she was so hard... a lil tougher than perhaps most women. Growing up in orphanages, traveling with gypsies, living and raising yourself on the streets. It wasn't a grand life, but a life just the same. Where some were book smart, Jocelyn was street smart. Taking things as they came and should she get knocked down, well she'd jus pick herself up and go at it again. When Lucius spoke, she looked to him, nodded and replied. "And from tha looks o'things, he be doing a fine job. Ye 'ave made it thus far...became a young man..aye?" She said with a small bit of a smile. She looked back to the smithy and upon his rising she watched as placed coins for all that was had and more if it were to be. As the large man spoke of needing to leave she nodded and gave a genuine smile to him. "Thank ye sir fer all ye 'ave done this night. Mayhaps Ay can return ye kindness by tending tae some things fer ye. Cleaning.. cooking.. tha sorts." She watched as he then moved off, leaving her and Lucius alone to talk more and perhaps drink more.
Memento Animus: Lucius sometimes pondered what it would be like to have a mother as well as a father. Would he be different than he was today? Lucius did not know for certain, but he could not say that he did not think about it a few times. Make no mistake, he loved his father dearly, but as any child, he was not perfect and could not always please his father...though he did try to. A nod was Jocelyn's words of his father doing a fine job in raising him. It was true, the man hand, and Lucius was grateful for what his father had done for him all his life...since he was a baby. Brown eyes traveled to his father as he excused himself from the table to head back home..where he would have to venture to eventually. ``Yes, father.`` He replied, before turning his attention back to Jocelyn. ``As much as I would like to linger and speak with you more...I think it is best not to make my father wait longer than he has. There is much that has been left unsaid between us...`` Lucius commented, glancing to the door for a moment, as if he could see through it and see his father. Sighing softly, eyes turned back to Jocelyn, and he forced a smile for both their sakes. ``I pray we shall meet again, Jocelyn.`` And with that, he slowly rose from the chair and adjusted his cloak before following in the footsteps of his father.
GaelicFIame: Jocelyn turned back toward Lucius as he spoke to her once more. Nodding in agreement with the things said. "Ay understand.. ye go.. mayhaps we can talk again another time, aye?" She asked as she kept to her seat. As he bid her good night and left, she called to him. "Ye be well also..." Jocelyn remained long enough to finish her drink his father had bought her. Soon after, she left, off to find a place to sleep for the night.
