Welcome

[Taliesin Kendrick]

Alec's smiles and tone of voice gave his guilt away. Taliesin sighed. So...he had probably been too harsh on him. He was just a young man! Goodness, he was still going through that stage. Tal remembered when he was seventeen. The girls had giggled when he had approached them, and he in turn had blushed brightly. When things hadn't gone his way, he did have a tantrum now and then. Dillion always told him how much of a brat and fool he was being, though. He took a sip of the wine from his goblet and smiled "No, thank you Milord. I...I'm just a little out of sorts at the moment. Forgive any rudeness or grumpiness" it was very out of character for Tal to use harsh words, or to snap. Usually he was just quiet and blushed far too much. Recently his spirits had been....intoxicated.

At Alec's comment, he rose a hand to touch the pewter torc at his neck and then let it fall, laughing "I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not" he shrugged "But thank you...." he sipped at his watered down wine, and squinted through the mass of people, moving closer to Alec so the young man could hear him over the music and the chatter of people "Is your family here?" gods he hoped not. If they were milling around they could have seen him acting like an idiot, acting angrily towards their son, brother, cousin. Whatever. He didn't want to make a bad impression. With the amount of drunken nobles wobbling around though, it was very hard to tell who was who. All the velvet, lace, silk and satin was marring his vision. They were all beautiful.

He noticed that a line had formed of men, and a few women. They were all linking arms and dancing around like drunken tavern go-oers. Knights linked arms with everyone and any and twirled around and threw their legs out like madmen. It looked fun and mind numbing. Perhaps it wouldn't be too untoward to grab Alec and dance like and idiot to fast paced festival music? Taliesin chewed at his lip and shook his head. Alec probably would be into stuff like that - crazy dancing, jigging. Whatever you called it. He blushed, and flashed a lopsided smile.

"How are you, anyway? I haven't spoken with you in ages! I feel so bad for not visiting you. But I've been busy with castle work and getting stuff ready for my sister having yet another child. Her poor husband is berated. You can see it in his eyes" he grinned. Oh, both Beatrys and Gareth were wonderful parents. But did they know how to bicker! It was quite amusing watching them roll their eyes constantly at each other. They always may fun of their bickering around the children though, and all four of them giggled crazily when they did. He wondered how the young children would see a baby - he very vaguely remembering thinking of Beatrys as squishy and pudgy when she was an infant. Squiggly. That was the word he had used. Or some Welsh variation of it.

[Taran Lusk]

Taran tried to speak, but the words seem to catch in his throat. Alwyn must have been her son - he could have died soon after birth, or even years after. Perhaps he had even been a stillborn. He had never thought to ask if she had any children - a King would most certainly concerned with producing a legitimate heir "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I truly am. How long ago did he....?" he couldn't bring himself to say those damning words. It sounded as if she hadn't spoken of it in a long while. To many people at all. Taran recognised the choking, dry sound she made all too well. He should have kept his mouth shut and let the sarcasm and false hate flow between them. It would have been far less painful to deal with for her.

"You know, that sounds like a very good idea. The weaponry rules for festivals make things so difficult though" he rolled his eyes, a slight smile gracing his lips. Her jesting lifted his spirits, however slightly. He grinned, raising a brow "Celia had the wits of a Queen, too. She had this.....this come hither stare. She scared the wits out of my eldest brother, which.....was a first, I might add" he fumbled with his hands in his lap, and smiled. It was strange to find himself talking about her like this, so freely. He had jumped straight in, without mourning "She was so sarcastic sometimes...and it frustrated me so much. We would have blazing arguments, but hours afterwards we would.......well..." he looked up to catch Clares eye briefly and grinned widely before looking downwards again, eyelashes heavy "...but she could appear so innocent and stoic at social events. One of my other brothers....he had a thing for her...but...."

Taran didn't wish to talk about Cassius. The scheming, two faced piece of dung wasn't worth the effort and pain. He smiled "As for the King being different when you were both first in love..." he lent in very slightly, and dropped his voice to a murmur that only Clare could hear "...the way he looks at you. The way he is looking at you [u]right now[/i]? He still feels the same way" he straitened up and sighed "And what man could not love you, hmmm? You're very strange. And awkward. And very irksome. But...I'm sure people can see past that"

He was very aware of Lucans position in the room, and could feel the blond Knights eyes on him, as they wandered and skirted him like a messenger standing atop a tower. Did Lucan like her still? Did the Queen even acknowledge Lucan anymore? Taran felt slightly....weary, caught between Clare and Lucan. It would prove a lot more awkward now, seeing as him and Clare seemed to be getting on. The Queen was rather quite pleasant. It had been no fault of his own that they had disliked one another.

(OOC: left it brief because festival is nearly at an end. Maybe one of Tarans other - many *cough* - sibs can come grab him and drag him away or something? I'll think of something)

[Clare Byrne]

"They said he was alive right up until childbed...the midwife...she didn't know what had happened," Clare let a bitter laugh worm through her lips in place of the choke that was so ready to erupt into frantic sobbing that it was all she could do to not break down into a heaving ball right there. "You should have heard some of the rumours for months afterwards - the harlot Queen had killed her own son just to spite the king," She pursed her lips together, blood pumping furiously in her ears so all she could here was the thundering roar across her temples as she strived to keep the pain from her voice and the anguish from her face as she refused to meet his gaze."I've lost three children, two Eunan doesn't know about and people tell you to get over it, to just move on as if nothing had happened, as if the world hadn't fallen on your head. I suppose that's one thing beside our wit that we have in common." She sneered lightly at the thought, an unpleasant furl of her lip as repulsion coursed through her.

She swallowed turning her face up to Taran's as her eyes fluttered to keep the fury ridden tears from her cheeks. Ripping her gaze away, she swallowed. It had been so long since she had spoken of Alwyn or her other two children, lost forever. Eunan rarely even acknowledged their son and the whole of Irick just saw it as another lost chance, another year without an heir, an heir that was sorely needed. Without one, after Eunan’s inevitable death the throne would be left up in the air – perhaps Sybilla could muster a coherent thought and seize it for herself or even Clare’s own father could claim regency as his daughter was crowned in her own right, but she knew full well that Eunan craved a child, a son and every toll of the bell that she was without one was a chime where she was edging closer to the scaffold, to the tower, to the orange flames of the smouldering pyre and there was truly nothing she could do about it. After all, it wasn’t her fault she was all but...all but...barren.. Clare had to stifle a wretch at the thought and turned her face, falsely jovial to Taran’s.

Clare couldn't help but let out a snigger at his description. Those in love often had the way of describing their other half as some seven foot Adonis or goddess with a beauty so fabulous only a deity could possess it. Although Taran didn't appear to be the kind of man that would boast simply for being boastful and she could picture his wife all too clearly in her mind. She gave a little laugh, absently noticing the way his hands twirled circles in his lap. She had never lost somebody so dear and she could never fathom how hard it must have been. Being so besotted with a person if only to have them ripped from your life. It was odd she mused - Taran and his wife seemed to hold the same pattern of love and frustration that her own marriage held but she doubted that if the fair lady Lusk stepped a toe over the line she'd get any more than a strike against her cheek. For Clare? The promise of an axe loomed just above her head, with every second the blade drawing closer. She returned the grin, a sly, slow smile. Oh she knew that part of arguing and apologising with Eunan, very well. And the grin returned double fold.

Clare felt the imperious smirk flit onto her face once more and she cast a cautious eye to the dais - admiring the form of her husband as he in turn returned her stoic gaze. She couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh at his words as she slowly, languidly turned her attention back toward the rows of dancing couples. "You don't know what Eunan’s like. I step one fraction out of line? He'd rather see me swing then damage his ego." She sneered, sighing deeply as her eyes fluttered round the myriad of people. Her voice when she spoke again was quiet, hushed, contemplative. "But he does love me, I have faith that he does." Cocking an eyebrow at his jest she grinned, letting a peal of laughter float through her lips. "Awkward? Irksome? That hardly seems fair and lest you not forget, other men loving me has gotten me into trouble in the past. I'm think of laying of adultery all together."She grinned, turning her face back to Taran with a sad, somewhat wistful smile as she consciously ignored the fluttering in her chest and painful lurch in her stomach.

No problemo, sounds good

[Perceval]

Perceval was many things; yes he had been a truly abysmal squire and yes, if the word of Arthur was anything to go by he made a even worse knight. Yes, he did spend far too much time in the library for any red-blooded young man to be healthy, he was clumsy, short and still so very very nineteen. Yes, undoubtedly all of those things were true, however he never considered himself to be a coward. Unless, of course, it came to feasts. When confronted with a banquet there was nothing that Percy would rather do than (bravely) turn his tail and flee, valiantly chicken out or pose a very brave retreat. All feasts evoked this kind of paralysing fear in the boy, except maybe for Beltane, when everyone got so irreversibly and uproariously drunk that no one remembered anything in the morning and heh, even if Percy woke up with his eyebrows burnt off once or twice due to passing out too close to the festival bonfires it was all in the good name of avoiding social suicide.

With his discovery of mead, wine and ale Perceval thought that maybe alcohol would remedy his inane (inane! Because there must be a reason why everyone else loved feasts so much) terror of parties, sadly he, sooner rather than later, also discovered that Dutch courage didn’t exactly do it for him, for while he could drink his way through awkwardness, he also could drink his way through common sense and end up, once again, performing a spectacular tapdance on stage of the Theatre of Social Faux Pas.

So there he was, standing beside dashingly handsome Lucan and looking slightly bedraggled and mildly harassed, nursing his goblet of wine in both hands like one might a cup of vile medicine and trying not to mind to much as the older man kept searching Taran out over Percy’s shoulder (head, more likely) and well, if Perce found it a bit tactless he knew better than to call Lucan on it. He gazed over himself only to see Taran chatting in most courteous fashion to the Queen of Irick. He shuddered inwardly, already sensing an amount of drama large enough to fill a Roman bathhouse. Had Perceval known a thing or two about cheerleaders he would easily compare them to knights, with perhaps a little less armour and a lot more somersaults, but definitely with the same-sized heaps of drama. Either way, he already knew that he would not be putting his foot into this if he could help it. The boy sighed deeply, which probably served as bringing Lucan’s attention back to his supposed companion.

"Where were we?"
“Oh, I dunno” said Percy with bright sarcasm, rolling his eyes despite his best effort not to. “I think we were talking how you and Taran clearly would like to have a minute or two in private”

He looked again at his fellow knight and the queen, underneath all that court-trained niceness and subtly flirtatious manner something much more serious was bubbling the contents of Gaius’s many cauldrons, Percy tried to repress (repress! Repress!) all the possibilities as to how Lucan and Taran were involved in what was sure to be one hell of a mess. Shaking his head he briefly wondered if Lucan would even notice if he pulled a runner or at least went looking for Bess, who would probably be the only person apart from Taliesin that could provide pleasant entertainment.

(OOC: OK, shorter than I expected actually, lines about Percy running off heavily influenced by Monty Python)

[Alec Clare]

Alec smiled and shook his head, though in reality and inside he was exceedingly joyous that Taliesin was apologising to him for the unusual grumpy nature that he was displaying. It was weird for Alec seeing his friend behave in such a manner since he always seemed very mild mannered and kindly, never losing his temper once. Then again, he had never really given Tal reason to lose his temper when around him since bizarrely he always seemed to well, behave when he was in his presence. Maybe it was because he was not as used to him as people like Simon who he felt comfortable acting badly around since it wasn’t as if it would be alien for his brother, but he wanted to make a good impression on Tal so that he would think well about him and not just see him as an annoying little child. “Thank you for the apology and you can still call me Alec by the way’’ he pointed out, with a wide grin on his face.

Laughing, he scanned over his friend’s appearance once more even if in all honesty he knew that he should not look too vigorously at it just in case he begun to find him more than a little strange. Never the less, looking at it a second time just made him look all the better. Whilst he didn’t have any showy things on or anything which was of the quality in Alec’s wardrobe, the clothes suited him well and made him look naturally good looking. It was amazing really how Tal always managed to look excellent even when dressed as a simple gardener or servant, when nobles who looked far worse than he did spent a ridiculous amount of money on their attire. “It was a compliment Tal’’ he clarified, still grinning. “You seem to have a naturally good fashion sense. You should be pleased about that. Most people would kill for it’’ he added, being honest. He knew many men who wished that they had good fashion sense, him included.

When the conversation turned to his family, he instantly scanned the room for his older brother. Spotting him still in pretty much the same place, he pointed him out to Tal with a long index finger, as he stood on his tip toes to try and give an extra bit of height to him. ”That’s my older brother, Simon. All my other family are in Kirkwall though, but I think there are some distant cousins who are knights. I don’t really know them so I couldn’t point them out to you myself’’ he explained, vaguely wondering if Tal would want to go up to Simon and have a bit of a chat. His brother was an amiable, likeable man and so it seemed kind of likely that he would ask him. He could ask a bit later anyway, he guessed.

Shrugging when asked how he was, he just smiled in response and just pretended not to really understand the question or not hear it. He wasn’t sure entirely of how he was anyway since everything seemed so confusing all the time with Elizabeth, Tal and pretty much everything in his life. That didn’t really need considering though. “Oh, wow. I hope the birth goes well for her. According to Simon my mother absolutely hated giving birth to me so hopefully hers will go a bit better for you’’ he said, pleasantly. “I’d love to meet some of your family actually. Maybe one of the days I can come round for some dinner or something? And speaking of meeting family members, did you want to meet Simon by the way? He’s really nice you know.’’

[Taran Lusk]

Tarans hazel eyes filled with sadness, and they became visibly watery and pained. He looked down at his lap, and blinked once to rid himself of such strong emotions "I am truly sorry. People give you condolences all the time. They say sorry because they think it's what...they should say. But I know...I know how it feels to lose a child. Perhaps....we didn't lose them in the same circumstances, but...we both still know the pain...." his voice drifted. The tones of his voice had became scratchy, whispered, as if he were trying to keep down the tears that threatened to spill. However easy it was to keep his expression stony, he felt that it would be a great disrespect not to mourn their memories. Although, he was sure Alwyn and his unnamed son or daughter may not have wanted them to dwell on the past. He would save his tears for another time. His brow knight, but then he realised that Clare must have lost the two other children the early stages. It was probably best that Eunan didn't know. Taran didn't want to think what the crazy King would do if he found out.

"I wish I could say that you could tell him...to ease the pain. But...I can imagine that he wouldn't be the most easy person to tell such things. If you ever need to...to ease your pains, I'm always around....everywhere. I'm like a stray dog" he arched a brow dryly, and smiled. He was merely offering her a shoulder to cry on, a manikin to vent her anger upon. He hoped she wouldn't take it the wrong way. He supposed his expression would give away the fact that he wasn't suggesting anything.

He gave her an amused, suspicious glare when her expression became very jovial, very quickly. But he grinned all the same. See? Wouldn't they all have wanted him and Clare to be happy? To console in one another and than joke and grin and laugh? He could see Celia rolling her eyes right now, sitting on her own little cloud, their five year old child running around, having grown up in Heaven. She even be rolling her eyes at his usual, slushy, fluffy thoughts and daydreams. Taran felt himself rolling his own dark eyes, and laughed a little sardonically "Do you think he's compensating for something? Men do it All. The. Time.. Have you seen how Prince Arthur wields his sword? Or how some of the other Knights walk as if they've done something in their breeches? Perhaps their is a way to bring him back down to size, My Lady...." both of his brows arched and he looked away, concealing a grin.

Not able to help himself, Taran laughed "Laying off adultery? Seems like a good idea to me. But....you are entitled to be happy, Your Majesty. You do your 'duty' for your husband, and you deserve to have your own, secret comforts in life...." he smiled sadly, although there was a twinkle in his eyes. He looked into her face for what seemed like a long while, and then was forced to look up from her as someone cast a shadow over them and coughed.

Jarlan, the second oldest Lusk brother, stood before them both with hands held behind his back, warm smile upon his face. The mans reddish blonde hair caught the light, and shone with strawberry brilliance. He flourished a bow to Clare "Your Majesty, I am Lord Jarlan, brother to this here delinquent..." he motioned towards Taran "...and if I'm not rude in asking....may I drag Taran away for a brotherly heart to heart? I haven't seen him in ages, and he neglects me" although his favourite brother, Jarlan didn't lack in skill with his sarcasm. Jarlans gaze shifted between his brother, and the Queen.

"Neglect? Shut up. I do no such thing...." Taran began to argue, but was pulled from his seat roughly by a grinning Jarlan "Do you need him for anything official, or..." he laughed while he spoke "Noble?"

[Clare Byrne]

Clare felt her lips twitch with amusement at his words. Taran almost seemed completely shameless and she could help let out a snigger of a laugh at his insinuation. "D'you know that I really, really don't want to picture what's going on in your head Taran." Smiling, a wan smile as her eyes fell upon the reams of dancers she sighed. "He's just possessive - his first wife was so meek she could barely move from her bower without having a fit of panic or giggling like a child whenever she was near him, then I came along and you would bound to be shocked, after all, I am hardly prone to sitting in my chambers all day. Eunan's just a jealous person, naturally, and I exacerbate it," Scoffing lightly she turned her grinning face to meet Taran’s. "After all, I'm hardly the best wife am I?" Smiling lightly she tipped her head, face seeking out the familiar crop of golden blonde hair with remorse filled eyes. It had been weeks since they had parted on the balcony yet it still hurt, the fire of lust still simmered in her chest but that was over she reminded herself. She had a duty, and more than that it was far too dangerous to pursue anything beyond a friendship with Lucan.

Grinning slightly she turned curious eyes to Taran. "You're right. But, I should undoubtedly choose a pleasure that wouldn't get myself, my family, you and your friend a trip to the gibbet or pyre." She smiled, quirking her eyebrows as she let a slow, bitter laugh worm through her lips. Was it fair that she should be content with her relationship, a relationship that was founded solely on arguments and lust? A relationship that was so fractured and flawed she could barely think about it before a brilliant, white hot headache erupted behind her eyes. A wife should be dutiful, meek and all but worship her husband, and Clare knew full well she was neither nor did any of them. Perhaps she should be more like Georgina and simply giggle inanely at every passing comment or sit and embroider all day but she knew she'd go mad and no doubt drive Eunan to insanity as well - after all, he had killed the fool for being so dull. Sighing lightly she took another warming sip of her wine, revelling in the fire that burned through her chest. Taran’s gaze was unsettling, probing as he refused to turn away and she felt her stomach lurch as she stared him down.

It took all of her effort not to fall into a slumber as the music lolled to a slow melody and a darkened shadow loomed before her - blotting out the orange glow as she tore her gaze from Taran’s and squinted to see whom was standing before her. He was handsome with dark eyes, a warm smile and a crop of vaguely curly blonde hair that shone almost auburn in the red light. And she shot Taran an amused look as he flourished a deeply set bow and she in return inclined her head, a small smirk furling onto her lips with joviality - somewhat pleased that the tension from their previous conversation was draining away. Even the music began to pick up a lively beat and her smile refused to fade. Clare let a small peal of laughter ring through the air and she shot another glance to Taran and tipped her head to Jarlan. "Not at all, I fear I have to go and find my husband myself." She grinned as she rose and Taran himself was dragged from his seat and her smile faded a fraction as she trained her eyes on the Knight. "Nothing official, we were just reminiscing. We'll speak soon Taran, Lord Jarlan."

With a lingering glance toward Taran she inhaled before moving between the brothers. Plum dress catching the light as her hair swept in long waves across her back. The dais seemed ever more constricting as she gently traversed the crowds, not daring to look behind her or even acknowledge Lucan's presence as she sauntered beside him, hairs apart.

[Lucan Beirne]

“Oh, I dunno... I think we were talking how you and Taran clearly would like to have a minute or two in private.”

Lucan smirked, lifting the goblet brimming with crimson wine to his lips, eyeing Percy over the rim. He could hardly be accused of being all sweetness and light to the young Knight before him. Lucan had a sense of humour that derived pleasure from teasing people until they either hit him (in Taran's case) or burst into tears. It couldn't be said he was malicious. Just thoughtless, perhaps, and definately childish. But Lucan would take an arrow for any of his fellow Knights. Well, most of them, at least...

"You know," Lucan told Percy conversationally, dropping the goblet from his mouth and smacking his lips together thoughtfully. "You're awfully loud for someone who spends so much time sitting alone in a Library. Perhaps we should exploit this new found confidence..."

Lucan shot him a wicked grin, which unfurled wonkily over his features. Stormy grey eyes raked the room over the younger boy's head, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of Taran's brother sweeping up to his best friend and the Queen. Pressing his lips together thoughtfully, Lucan forced himself to look away. A small cluster of girls, ranging from perhaps seventeen to his own age, were sitting hopefully at the edge of the dancefloor. Lucan nodded to them.

"If you get a dance, and manage to complete it without falling on your arse, I'll... try and stop the others from covering your armour in a light coat of manure." Lucan tilted an eyebrow at Percy, smirking. But his attention was caught by a ripple of purple passing close behind him, and a light feminine scent that made hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

Lucan's broad shoulders stiffened as Clare swept past him, close enough to touch but achingly far away. He didn't even need to look to tell how close she was. Lucan's jaw gritted painfully as she made her way back to the dais, headed for her husband. And as the crowd reformed in her wake, Lucan threw back the rest of his wine. Perhaps the drunken table of Knights had had the right idea after all...

"Come on," he said to Percy, clapping a large hand over the boys slender shoulder. Lucan shoved the now empty goblet with a passing serving boy. "Let's go get a dance. Or hideously drunk. I'm game for either."