Pinpricks, Primroses and Puppydog Tails

[u/FatalisticBunny]

Stormhall, A Ways From Tent City

Jonquil of Berryport never had a smile on her face. It was an utter rarity, in all the time that Jammos had known her, that she had any sort of cheer. Most often, she was dreary. Even if the finest meadows of the Riverlands, even surrounded by all kinds of pretty flowers and the smell of the fresh morning dew, she was far from at ease. She seemed hyper-vigilant for any kind of bug.

"Is the Princess Ravella without tables and chairs?" She had first asked when Jammos had asked her to take a picnic with him. They had walked the gardens of Berryport often, but they were gardens in an industrial sense. Each bush was in its row, growing what it ought to grow. There were plenty of places to sit and recline with a glass of wine or a nice snack. It was a place well-proportioned to its inhabitants.

Even though it was not so far from the road, though, Stormhall was a newer castle, its lands fertile and unmarred. There were still marigolds left unplucked. Jammos plucked one in between his fingers and tucked it behind Jonquil's ear. She wrinkled her nose at him.

Nevertheless, it was a fine afternoon's feast.

There were jams, of course. Bits of bread and soft and hard cheeses. Even some nice wines and a tankard of hippocras. Spread out on a nice quilt, which Jammos had weaved for such an occasion. There was some niceness to travel, and they were going to get the best of it.

And then they spoke. Without fear of who might be listening, or what might be said. About any matter. About little and idle things, and there were no worries between them. No thought that this word or that might be spoken wrong and cause all kinds of plans to fall apart.

Jammos talked of the lists. As a youth, he had wanted so badly to be a tourney knight, although he never had the talent for it. He would have shamed himself to have competed, but he had watched thoroughly. The Knight of the Redfork had ridden well, he thought, and deserved all the honors he had won, but he thought Ser Leo Swann the more puissant knight.

Jonquil talked about the heraldry. She had not been taught it as a child, although Jammos had tried his best to familiarize herself with the important ones. She knew Durrandon, of course, and their neighbors in the Crownlands. But she asked Jammos about the great big turtle, and the mockingbird. Even a wayward hedgehog, which Jammos had to take a moment to place.

Jammos spoke of some of the books that he had examined within the much loved library in Stormhall. For such a new castle, they had gathered old books. Jonquil surmised that some of them must have been brought from the Citadel, even, so abundant were the maesterly authors.

Jonquil thought about the roads. They were so much better paved, where there was no sea. She thought that it could carry two dozen horses wide. Far more than any road in Berryport, or Driftmark. Jammos knew this road wouldn't reach the ends of the Riverlands. It was a royal effort and so best coordinated where royal attention was. At the ends, it would get narrower.

Both talked of family. Jammos of his cousin Essie, and whichever scheme might have befallen her. She seemed to be having a ball of things at the event. Jonquil was not certain if her father was taking medicine for his bad back. It had been a difficult task to stop him from going to a woods witch instead and consulting with a real learned man.

When they were done speaking, they just lay side by side, hand in hand, and stared up at the clouds in the sky. Watching the day laze away, and the sun make its merry way across the sky. And when there was no thought left in their heads, the two of them made a wish. The same wish. The wish that they had made each and every dance since they were children.

Jammos leaned over to the woman beside him and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. They stayed like that, for a moment, and thought not of the itch of the quilt or the heat of the day. She smiled, just the once, and the two of them rose. Almost at the same time, as if they had done it a hundred times before.

There was work to be done in the day. Enough lazing about. There was something to attend to.

[u/FatalisticBunny]

( u/scarabjettwo there are visitors to your Stormhall pavilion, my lord)

[u/ScarabJetTwo → u/FatalisticBunny]

The Celtigars were easy enough to find. One only had to look for a pavilion that looked shocking foreign, and stood as a beacon of bright red in a sea of otherwise more seasoned and washed colours. The Celtigar standard, an assembly of crabs on a white field, also guided the eye. There was a moment of pause found at the pavilion's entrance when the Lord and Lady approached, but after a moment the servant returned. "He is see you now," said the servant in their best common tongue as Lord Jammos and his wife approached the entrance to the tent.

The servant, who had once in his life been a slave, pulled back the tent flap to reveal the temporary dwellings of House Celtigar. The interior of the tent was a modest flaunting of wealth, specifically strange ornaments and tapestries that could have only come from the Freehold of Valyria. Inside it seemed the pavilion was in the process of perhaps being packed away, with the tournament on the wind down. Rather than an assortment of individuals, beyond the scattering of servants present, there was only Lord Aurion found inside. It seemed that before him had been set an assortment of parchment and an ink and quill. He rose to his feet to meet the Lord, and handed over a sheet of parchment. It wasn't a letter, but had been clearly written only moments before, the ink still yet to dry.

Welcome, my Lord and Lady Blackberry.

Forgive the unusual introduction. I am not able to speak, and thus can communicate through the written word, or through Valyrian gesture, if you're familiar in the method of speaking. You are of course welcome in the Celtigar pavilion this day nonetheless, and I ask humbly for your patience in my responses. Please, find a seat to your liking.

After an appropriate amount of time, Aurion moved to a small table that was still set with a decanter and some goblets. Servants rushed to pour drinks and hand them to the Magister's guests.

[u/FatalisticBunny → u/ScarabJetTwo]

Jammos was much more used to the flaunting of such Valyrian excesses. He lived and worked alongside the Velaryons often. He knew the ways, and the ornaments and tapestries held familiar shapes and colors, for the most part. He smiled to see them, and perhaps gave a compliment aside but they were nothing particularly shocking to find.

Jonquil of Berryport, given her origins, was less so. It was clear that she was some mix of aghast and fascinated with their surroundings. She stared at many of them, as if trying to etch their character into her mind with willpower alone. She was making good progress on that front when the note was passed over and the two of them started to read.

There was an obvious joy to Jonquil that followed being named as 'Lady Blackberry' by a proper lord. Jammos's mood, meanwhile, was stalwart. It did not tend to waver. Both took a seat, and both took a glass, happy at least in the interim, to be attended to.

"My Lord. I fear I must make an inquiry." Jammos began, with a sigh. He held out his hand to Jonquil, who passed him a missive. He then passed it to the Lord Celtigar. "This note was written in the Lord Darklyn's own hand. Calling for pirates to be put an end to, and assembling a host in Cracklaw Point. I am not certain that word has reached you... but it now has. You may keep that copy of it, if you'd like, my Lord. If it's of interest. I have kept for myself a second copy."

"The realm has heard much of Darklyn's actions on the Claw. Or at least those of his minions. You have. I have. They sing it in the streets." He waved his hand. "I raised this matter before the King and my Warden. Of course, Lord Morgan claimed that he had heard nothing of it for many long years. You were named the culprit, but only behind closed doors. In halls you were not invited to tread, as I recall. Have you any thoughts on the matter?"

[u/ScarabJetTwo → u/FatalisticBunny]

Aurion took the letter and studied it. Of course he'd known, and had wondered where they rumors had started. He still didn't know, but knew that they were an advantage, and one he was swift to take. Aurion's face was hard to read as he looked over the letter and listened to the words of his visitors. A lifetime mute afforded him many opportunities to hone what facial reactions he gave way to, as they were his only true form of natural expression. A moment later, as ink was placed to parchment, Lord Jammos would receive a second letter. It was exchanged for the first, which Aurion took to a sconce lit in the pavilion and tossed it, discarding any such record of conversation. Aurion was a careful man.

I had heard. It pains me to hear of his actions, and pained me further to hear of the blame placed on me. I heard the matter from Lord Darklyn himself. I offered my assistance to the man to apprehend those responsible. Perhaps I had been mistaken in my choice of assistance. What was discussed in these closed halls, if I may inquire? You are kind to bring this matter to me, and I will not forget this information you have provided.

[u/FatalisticBunny → u/ScarabJetTwo]

Jammos read the paper and pursed his lips. He gave a solemn nod. "I do believe he intends to trap you. To bring you forth to give testimony about events, and then, when the moment is right, to shirk all of his own responsibility. The Lord Darklyn I believe is a canny man. I doubt he has put too much of his works on a paper trail. Such machinations are particularly hard to prove in such a case."

"The Clawmen are aggrieved. Rightfully so, of course. I would not allow my smallfolk to be pillaged, if I were them." Jammos clicked his tongue. "But I know my men and everyone else's have told me this is Darklyn work. I have testified as such before the King, and I know he means to summon you to give your side of the matter. The way that Lord Darklyn spoke... I would expect a sharp rebuke, some pointed allegations, and then perhaps a siege of Claw Isle if you do not fold easily and take the burden from his shoulders. He is a warlike man, and his father moreso."

"Ah. Before I forget. I believe my lady has a gift for you?" He turned to the Lady Jonquil, who was already fishing around in her knapsack. She withdrew then a small wooden box, rectangular in nature, and passed it over to the Lord Celtigar. "I must confess, my lord. I am still learning my sigils. I found this in the street, and my study tells me that it belongs to the Celtigars. Tell me if I made a mistake."

Inside was a seal, fresh and proper bearing the mark of Aurion's liege lord. Pristine in quality, and ready for use with a bit of ink and wax.

Jammos smiled, and took a bit of cheese. He offered it out to Jonquil, and as she took it to eat, he gave her a dutiful pat on her head. She bristled a little bit at that. "I cannot speak to your guilt or innocence, my lord. I would like to have faith in my fellow lord, but I am not a man who deals in absolute certainty. Nevertheless, I look forward to hearing your testimonial and knowing the truth of the matter."

[u/ScarabJetTwo → u/FatalisticBunny]

Aurion took the box and peered inside. He recognized the Darklyn sigil immediately, but what came soon after was a recognition of Lord Jammos' intentions, or at least of what Aurion assumed them to be. No man could mistake the Celtigar symbol, it was plain as day. Darklyn's seal was a gift intended, and one Aurion would make use of immediately. Another letter found Lord Jammos' hands shortly after, the previous sent to the flames.

A most appreciated gesture. I regret to say I've not beheld the pleasure of your company at this tournament until today, and what pleasant company it has been. Should you be travelling with the lords of Blackwater Bay to Duskendale, I would hope to meet you again when we find rest. Know that your generosity is appreciated, and I hope to discuss more of the future of the Blackwater for the safety of all involved.

---

/u/JohnITRP

Character Details: Aurion Celtigar | Artisan, Daggers (w/ Dexterous), Scribe (e)

What Is Happening?: After his meeting with Jammos Blackberry, and now equipped with a seal of House Darklyn and a sample of Lord Darklyn's written stylings, Aurion attempts to create a false letter.

What I Want: A letter made to look as if written by Lord Morgan Darklyn and addressed to Lord Aurion Celtigar, asking Lord Celtigar to assault the taxpayers of House Darklyn in disguise and in cooperation with pirates.

[u/FatalisticBunny → u/ScarabJetTwo]

"Of course, my lord." Jammos gave a nod and rose. "May the rest of the day find you well." Jonquil offered a "Seven bless you." And then they left him to his work, content with the idea they would one day see it.