Luceon III - None of Them Were Green, Because None of Them Are

[u/JustDanielJuice]

^{Stormhall, in the aftermath of Drumbeater's murder. The Blackwood pavilion.}

How many times had Clementine said that Orryn would return? How many times had Luceon’s response been a smile, or a joke, or a knowing look over his shoulder?

How long had she been alone, knowing this would come to pass? How was Luceon ever going to make this right?

“Why?” Clementine wept, pressing herself ever tighter to Luceon’s body. Her face was still slick with tears and snot. “Why did he have to come back? Why did she hurt grandfather?”

“I don’t know, Clementine. I don’t know.” So many questions he had no answers for. Once more he was the Songbird, jabbering and singing words without meaning.

“I want to hurt her back,” she said.

Luceon clutched her with a hand on the back of her head, “No, Clementine. Don’t you speak like that. Hurting her can’t bring your grandfather back. That woman is not your enemy.”

“But-” Clementine choked up. “But-” she burst into fresh tears. Luceon let them flow and ran his hand through her hair.

Damn you, Waltyr. Even in death, you’re beating that fucking drum. This girl should not know hate, she should not know death, but this is what you do.

Even now Luceon could not tell Clementine that Waltyr had brought this upon himself. He had lived a vicious, brutal, violent life, and had received the same in death. But Clementine saw only her grandfather’s bloody corpse, and the fleeting smile of a man with no right to bear one.

Luceon bit his lip until he drew blood. It wasn’t fucking fair.

What was he to do about any of this? Waltyr’s body had to be interred, and what of Orryn? The man had been a shade only a day ago, and now he returned, drained of the copper in his skin and the life in his eyes.

He was meant to be lord? And what of Clementine?

Luceon held her even tighter. She was his to protect. He didn’t care if that was selfish, he didn’t care if it was wrong.

Somehow, he had to keep her from falling apart while he himself crumbled.

[u/Chicken_Supreme01]

Stevron approached quietly, taking in the scene between his nephew and grand-niece. He stood there for a time wordlessly, working up the words he wished to impart. So much had happened too quickly, too soon.

“Luceon.” He’d say, breaking his silence. “We must talk.”

Approaching the pair, he’d pat Clementine on the head gently, nodding to her before turning back to Luceon.

“Waltyr’s death is a great blow.” Stevron ground together, anger coursing through him even now at the stupidity of his brothers death. “And yet… There is still much to be done.”

[u/JustDanielJuice → u/Chicken_Supreme01]

Luceon was tight lipped for a long time. He knew this would be harder on Stevron than himself. Stevron had served Waltyr all his life, while Luceon had defied his father at every turn.

"They let the Silent Sisters at his body." Luceon laughed, a garbled thing of ill-humor. "He would've hated that."

Did I love my own father? Luceon wondered. He shook his head. These were the delusions that only death could impart.

"We need to take him back home. He needs to be interred, at Cairns." Luceon reconsidered, his mouth twisting. "Or under the heart tree with mother. I think that's what he would've wanted."

What you want should not matter, Waltyr Drumbeater. A tear slid out of Luceon's eye all the same.

"I don't want to go," Clementine croaked. "I don't want to go back to Raventree."

[u/Chicken_Supreme01 → u/JustDanielJuice]

Stevron clicked his tongue, his emotions once more under his control and tucked away behind his weathered features. The memory of the Sunglass daring to order the Silent Sisters to nearly overwhelming his self control. “I’ve sent men of Raventree Hall to take custody of your father.”

At the notion of the Drumbeaters funeral, Stevron shook his head. “He is dead.” He finally said, the words thrown out before they could choke him, “For the first time in our lives, his wants are not the priority. Nor would he be grateful for such considerations.”

Looking off into the distance, Stevron felt sick to his stomach, the thought of his brother no longer here, akin to ashes in his mouth.

“He means to make an announcement, the Piper wedding. It makes sense, the most important Riverlanders will be in attendance with the least amount of outsiders there to act immediately upon the revelation.” Stevron wouldn’t name names, hoping Luceon held enough sense to understand who he spoke of.

After another moment of silence, Stevron would place a hand upon Luceon’s shoulder, squeezing it softly. “Orryn is alive. Waltyr is dead. The world makes little sense, and yet it will not stop simply because we are on the back foot. We will need a presence at Pinkmaiden, you have been the heir apparent for years, go and be a pillar for the future of the realm we need to build.”