Night Before the Tournament

[Boros]

Hoster came into the room clad in his finest Captain of the Guards garb, which still didn't mean it was much. The months had taken care of his post limb-loss gloom, the Blackfort Uncle was back in his prime... Which meant: drunk, rude and loud, only now he only had one hand to punch other people in the face.

"If it ain' a fine lookin' evenin' tis one, eh?" Hoster said, the sourness in his breath could be felt across the room. He took a seat beside Dacey, resting his arm on her shoulder. "We're a pre'y bunch now, ain' we? Couple o' months back no one woulda guessed we'd all be this well off."

[Vex]

Dacey pushed her chair closer to the table to get rid of Hoster's hand on her shoulder, though her appetite was gone now that their uncle had graced them with his horrible breath.

[Jormun Rivers]

Jormun slid his chair to the side, away from Hoster, giving Dacey more room to escape. While some might use stealth, the legs of Jormun's chair squeal against the floor with each inch. "Hoster, so good to see you again."

[Tim of Raventree]

Dec 30, 2016 0:21:38 GMT Lord Belric Blackfort said:

"Probably for the best. I could hand Dacey the prize for archery right now, with confidence." Belric laughed out the last few words. He raised his glass to both Willem and Willis. "To your good fortune, cousins. Give these cunts a proper welcome to Harrenhal, ey?" Before he could sip his wine to finish the toast, Violet entered the room. He opened his arms wide, and smiled at his sister. "And to you, Violet, the bride to be! May your fortunes outshine us all."

Violet smiled warmly at her brother.

"Let's hope I am blessed with a marriage as happy as your own," she replied.  "I am eager to be mistress of my own castle at last.  And, well, Harrenhal is too big and too dark for my taste.  Though I know it will become brighter and happier, in time."

[Lucas of Brindlewood]

Willem's expression visibly soured on Jormun's entrance, and then turned darker yet on Hoster's appearance. Despite his unhappy  look, he said nothing.

[Boros]

Hoster stared at Jormun for a couple seconds, his face showing a mix of confusion and effort, before nodding back. As always, he couldn't quite recollect who was that lad and why he was always hanging with the Blackforts. Must be an in-law or something... Those leeches.

His eye soon traveled the table to meet Willem's, his expression turning into a grimace. That one was another person who Hoster had no idea what was doing in, what he had assumed was, a Family only meeting.

[Lord Belric Blackfort]

"You will do a fine job as Lady Roote, I have no doubt. May the Gods bless you with the love you dream of any many sons. I am excited by the prospect of being Uncle Belric and raising our Lordlings together." He reach into his back pocket, adjusting in his seat to make it easier to grab what lay inside. What he withdrew was a small parcel, satin and red, with an elegant drawstring tied at the top. Within rested an elegant golden necklace, crested with the Balckfort banner. "It is not much, but perhaps even when we are all old and gone, it will remind you where you came from, and the family that fought together to buid this legacy." He smiled at Violet, and reached across the table to hand her the gift.

"And our Archery Champion has come to grace us with her presence!" Belric gave a smile and a nod to Dacey. He may have been teasing her, but he was very serious in predicting her victory. "Have you come to collect your prize already?"

His jaw dropped at the sight of ever-absent Hoster, and the immature child inside of him reared it's mischevious face. He had missed the man, though he's never admit it out loud. "Uncle! I had not expected you. I shall send for more wine." He waved over a servant to do just that. "Is the captain of my guard ready for the Tournament? I enlisted another two hundred gaurds to fill the garrison."

[Tim of Raventree]

Dec 31, 2016 22:11:31 GMT Lord Belric Blackfort said:

"You will do a fine job as Lady Roote, I have no doubt. May the Gods bless you with the love you dream of any many sons. I am excited by the prospect of being Uncle Belric and raising our Lordlings together." He reach into his back pocket, adjusting in his seat to make it easier to grab what lay inside. What he withdrew was a small parcel, satin and red, with an elegant drawstring tied at the top. Within rested an elegant golden necklace, crested with the Balckfort banner. "It is not much, but perhaps even when we are all old and gone, it will remind you where you came from, and the family that fought together to buid this legacy." He smiled at Violet, and reached across the table to hand her the gift.

"Thank you, Belric. I will treasure it always." She closed her fingers around the gift, opened it and let out a small cry of genuine appreciation. "It's very pretty. Our children shall be good friends, I'm sure. My children will surely look up to your firstborn."

[Jormun Rivers]

"I hope you care for Lord Roote better than you did Edmure, Violet. We actually want this one to stick around." Jormun smiles at his sister to accompany his first acknowledgement of her presence, turning to Dacey afterwards. "I do love our family meetings," he says in a quieter tone.

[Lord Belric Blackfort]

"That's enough Jormun." Belric said, his eyes fixed on his bastard brother. "It was my choice to send Edmure to the wall. His blood is on my hands, not Violets." If the gods were real, they must have been laughing.

"It was Edmure's sacrifice that gave Violet the chance to escape. Despite how we felt about him at the end, he was still our family... He was still my brother." Belric said the last words solemly, weighted down by guilt.

"To Edmure!" Belric toasted, raising his glass once more. "May his death be the foundations upon which our peace is built, and may our swords find the throats of those that took his life."

[Lucas of Brindlewood]

"To Edmure!" Willem said with vigour, quick to join the toast. He resisted the urge to add he had been a better man than many present.

[Tim of Raventree]

Violet quickly raised her glass. "To Edmure." She felt a pang of guilt at his death, but then, she'd been given no choice in the matter, and chances were that Edmure would be dead anyway, whether she'd been there or not. But as she glanced around at her kin, she wondered how many of them regretted the circumstances that had sent Edmure into exile. She longed to point out to Jormun that only she, among the entire family, had chosen to accompany Edmure on his journey away from Harrenhal, yet it served no purpose to prolong an argument.

[Boros]

"Am waitin' ta face ye in da field, Baltic. Show ye how ye don' need an extra arm to fuck a bunch of sissies..." Hoster's mood lightened as he turned to Belric. Months of confinement and silent lonely training in the Yard during the late hours of the night had distanced even more his relation with his family, not that he vared. But he had been growing fond of them, at least some.

The brief light in his face gloomed as soon as the name of Edmure was mentioned. In the end, he never got the chance to deliver the one armed beating that little shit deserved. He refused to raise a glass for that bastard, still blaming him for all the trouble they had with his former Bonnie Boys. But he was quite fond of Violet and the lassie had gone through some shit. So he sucked up some of his pride and raised his cup.

[Jormun Rivers]

Jormun raised his glass off of the table, took a sip, and set it down again. "It was Edmure's decisions that sent him to the wall. You should not feel guilty for protecting your family and name from his actions, brother. He was rude and sarcastic til the second he left our walls."

[Vex]

"Life at Harrenhal has taught me more about overconfidence than four years of war, brother," said Dacey in response to Belric's earlier question, not raising her cup in toast for two reasons: death had not miraculously cured Edmure of cowardice and asshattery, and the details of the bandit incident failed to add up despite all the stories Violet had spun, leaving Edmure's contribution under a big question mark.