675-04-15 - The Main Line Needs to be Continued

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The Main Line Needs to be Continued
Summary: A very angry Duke Alajos confronts his cousin Ralph about plans of marrying the Duke off.
Who: Alajos Fennim and Ralph Fennim
References: re:Avaline Brais, re:Barret Brais
When: April 15th, 675
Related Logs: Happens right after: 675-04-15 - Impending Betrothal
Date of RP: 17/04/2014
Where: Below deck of the Nymph of Aliara, bound for the Isles
Room Desc: In the scene set


There are more or less two ways of dealing with the discomfort of impending nausea when sailing on a ship: The most common one being to venture on deck, as the sight of the horizon offers a reference point to focus on, while the fresh air will be helpful for one's face to regain a healthy colour.

Another, less common one, is investigated by a Fennim just in this moment, sitting at one of the tables that have been set aside for meals and socializing below deck, should the weather not be agreeable; an area that is dimly lit by the flickering light of several oil lamps that are attached to chains hanging from the ceiling and right now gently sway this and that way in response to the dance of the waves. Sitting there is Ralph Fennim, his only companion a tin cup and a decanter of wine. His sombre mien matching the dark colour of his attire all too well, as he takes another sip of the beverage - immersed in his thoughts, and already far into the cups.


The darkness of the area and of Ralph's clothes is nothing compared to the darkness on Alajos' face when the young duke suddenly appears in the room, having apparently been looking for his cousin. "There you are!", he almost yells at the man, apparently in quite a state compared to his usual quiet dreamy demeanor. In fact he stands opposite Ralph, the table between them and slams his hands down onto the table top so heavily, that the decanter jumps (the cup presumably being held by Ralph's hand and thus not in danger of jumping). "How dare you?!", Alajos shouts at him, his eyes blazing, "How dare you?!" In case Ralph didn't understand the first time.


With his thoughts having drifted off to a place somewhere far way, Ralph will need a moment to return to the here and now, but thanks to his already slightly inebriated state the yell does not exactly make him jump out of his seat, whereas his gaze will follow the jump of the decanter in thoughtful fascination. His brows will slowly move upwards as the older Fennim shifts in his seat, his features twisting into a slightly amused, but overall very good-natured smile as he raises his gaze to meet that of his cousin. "Dare what?", Ralph inquires in a low and raspy voice, before he gestures with the hand holding the tin cup towards the seat opposite of him. "Why don't you sit down, cousin. And have some of this wine. It's not that bad actually." And maybe he will need it. A deep sigh leaves the older Fennim's throat, as he already seems to suspect the reason for the Duke's ire.


"I am not sitting down and I am not interested in your wine!", Alajos rages, still hovering above Ralph. The other man's calm demeanor enraging him even further. "I am only interested in an explanation! Why is my sister telling me that I am to be married? That you have a bride picked out for me? How dare you? Without consulting me first?! I am not interested in marrying and you know it!", he fumes.


Another sigh follows, and Ralph's dark gaze is lowered to the tin cup in his hand. "Very well then," he replies, with a grumble, placing it onto the table beside the decanter, pointedly not refilling it at the moment. The mirth has already faded from his features, as his expression has returned to the sombre and thoughtful look that is so much more like him, anyway. "Your first question, the why... Don't tell me this comes as a surprise to you, cousin. You may be a young man still, but already past your early twenties. I was about your age when I got married for the first time, surprisingly late, if you ask me. You are a Duke, and the... Main Line needs to be continued," the hint of a frown appears, when Ralph's looks away from Alajos. Even if that Main Line's blood may be of lesser noble blood than others. But instead of elaborating on that, he clears his throat, and shifts his glance back towards the younger man.

"You say I picked a bride for you? It was not I, let me clarify that. But the King himself who voiced his concern, and offered a suggestion." Dark eyes study Alajos. "You are a Head of one of the Great Houses, this should be reflected in the choice of the match. As for why I have not consulted you,..." There is a low chuckle. "Because I already anticipated this reaction. You never seemed too eager to get married, but there will not be a choice for you in the matter. To get married, that is." Said firmly as his hands fold before him on the table, his eyes shifting for a moment to the decanter, but for now he seems to resist the urge to help himself to more of the wine. Instead he looks up to the Head of his House, raising his brows as he awaits Alajos' reaction.


"The King? The king has no need to meddle in my affairs", Alajos fumes but suddenly all the anger seems to leave him as if a switch has been changed. He looks crumpled and defeated as he finally takes a seat opposite Ralph and buries his face in his hands. Stting still like that for a few minutes and when he finally speaks, it is without looking up. "Oh, I know this moment would come... the day my brothers died, I knew this moment would come...", he says bitterly, "I am to be saddled with some wife and expect to produce a dozen heirs to perpetuate the Fennim line... who cares what I want... it is the noble's lot to bear, is it not?" He falls silent again, slowly coming to terms with the news. "So tell me, who's the unfortunate girl the king wishes to see as Duchess of Woriscant?", he finally asks.


"The King has every right to do so!", Ralph objects, his brows furrowing. "He is our sovereign, and besides all his other concerns he needs to ensure that our House is not weakened, and least of all by your reluctance to marry, cousin." His tone has taken on a sharpness, as he remprimands Alajos with the right of the elder and probably wiser, but all that fades at once when he sees his cousin's reaction. Using the pause and the silence, to finally pour the Duke and himself a cup of the wine. "Drink." is his simple advice, as he shoves that cup gently over in Alajos' direction. "I was not pleased back then as well. But in the end it turned out, Oryana was in her way quite an agreeable companion." A sigh, before he shifts his attention from the decanter back to Alajos.

"The 'unfortunate girl' as you'd like to call her, is none other than Lady Avaline Brais." There it is. "And nothing has been announced nor will it be, until you two have been informed and... accepted the news, cousin. At least we will wait till after we have returned from the Isles. If a lady there should catch your eye and would appear a suitable match, it will of course be considered. Your Grace." The cup is raised in a toast, as Ralph Fennim leans back in his seat, his dark gaze flickering as he studies Alajos pensively.


Alajos takes the cup and is about to take a hearty gulp when Ralph reveals the name of his intended. Which causes him to sputter the wine all over the table and also onto Ralph's shirt. "That foul-mouthed harpy? Never!", he protests, "She has all the manners and grace of a fishmonger by the docks..." Then he falls silent again, dabbing at some splotches of wine with the sleeve of his shirt. "I do not think a lady from the Isles could catch my interest, cousin.", he admits quietly without facing his cousin, "I think a foreigner would not be happy in Woriscant to begin with. And if I haven't found a lady to catch my eyes back home in Two Rivers, why now..." It's as far as he goes to admitting that ladies in general are not really his thing. Finally he chuckles wryly. "I dare say, the Lady Avaline will be just as horrified by the news as I am. The poor girl."


Reflexes that are already a bit slow due to consumption of alcohol, and quite a bit of it, barely suffice to evade that red shower of wine in time, and so Ralph just bears with it, his head turning to the side, his eyes closed, the corner of his mouth twitching, as he feels the spray on his face, his arm moving to wipe it off with his already black sleeve after the moment of shock has passed. The shirt, however was white when he put it on this morning, but no more. "Foul-mouthed...?", he echoes, surprised at the vehement reply. "I thought you two got along really well, when you danced at the Feast at Castle Equitaine." Nodding to his assertion about ladies of the Isles. "You know, I already expected as much. She is the niece of the King, so don't complain. Also young and of pleasant looks, as far as I can tell." Which he can probably. Brown eyes shift downwards at his ruined shirt and he shrugs, before he takes the decanter to give Alajos a refill. "And you are probably right... She does not know of her fate yet. Could you at least try to be a bit more agreeable in her company? To make your grumpy manner not overshadow what you have to offer, pleasant looks, a vivid mind - that is here and there still in need of guidance, of course...?"

Another sip of the wine is taken, before Ralph adds, his lips curving into a pensive smile: "You will see, it helps not be alone, to have someone. A family. My children are all the joy I can ask for." And at least his second wife he was allowed to marry for love. "A family can give you strength to live up to your other tasks and obligations that Woriscant imposes on you."


Sigh. "She is quite pleasant looking indeed.", Alajos agrees reluctantly, "But she has a vile tongue in her pretty mouth and she hates me. She informed me of it in no uncertain terms ." He chugs some wine, feeling the warmth spread through his veins and making him feel a little less tense than before. "I suppose this is more terrible for her than for me", he comforts himself after a pensive pause. "Once we have left this infernal ship and the sea behind and are on dry land once more I shall try to be agreeable to her. I suppose there could be worse choices than her.", he admits with a weak smile. "If only she keeps that tongue under control."


Ralph listens in silence, a faint smlie tugging at his lips. "How can she hate you already, when you two barely know each other?", he remarks when Alajos pauses for his sip of wine. "First impressions can sometimes be deceiving. Maybe you were not eager to demonstrate to her any of your qualities, which you have." The smile deepens. "And there possibly are worse choices. You could be used by the King to ensure new alliances, to Estoria or the Isles, for instance." The cup is raised again, and drained slowly. His brown eyes looking slightly bewildered as they focus on the empty cup he puts nback down onto the table. "It seems the medicine is kicking in.", Ralph remarks with a chuckle. "But something tells me, I've had enough wine for today."


"Ask her.", Alajos replies with a shrug, "She used quite many choice words which I do not care to repeat." And apparently the young lady managed to get under the duke's skin if his hurt look is anything to go by. But overall the young man just looks exhausted and weary now - and quite resigned to his fate. "A woman is a woman.", comes his defeated response, accompanied by a shrug. Then he gets to his feet again. "I shall withdraw to my cabin now, cousin. I would suggest that someone tell the poor girl of her fate, so she can either resign herself to it or cast herself overboard while we're at sea." It may be a joke? There's a faint sardonic smile on the duke's lips as he turns and wanders away.


His brows move upwards, as Ralph leans back in his seat, the rosy colour of his cheeks along with the slightly veiled look of his gaze bearing witness to him slowly succumbing to the effects of the wine. His voice however is surprisingly clear, albeit raised with the low grumble that often seems to lurk beneath its surface. "Many choice words indeed? Do you wish me to speak with her, Your Grace? When indeed I feel little suited for the task. Maybe Sirelle would prove more efficient, extracting Lady Avaline's opinion whilst engaging in casual chatter." The roll of his eyes giving away that he knows how little fond his niece is of such typical female pastimes. "Or maybe your sister, Duchess Ortensia Istivean is the one who should tell her. If we are to tell her. As we are not family, after all."

When Alajos departs, Ralph moves to rise, swaying a little, perhaps because of the dance of the waves, perhaps for other reasons. A bow is offered, however, even if he has to hold on to the back of the chair for it. "Rest well, cousin," he calls after the Duke of Woriscant, dark eyes following him as the young man wanders off. Choosing rather not to comment on the melodramatic assumption, as he sits down again with a weary sigh, and his gaze comes to linger again on the decanter before him on the table.