676-01-27 - Long Expected Arrival

From Felaguria: The Struggle for Power
Jump to navigationJump to search
Long Expected Arrival
Summary: SIgrid Bjornsvartr arrives at Mergorand Castle
Who: Barret Brais and Sigrid Bjornsvartr
References: Later
When: January 27th, 676
Related Logs: None.
Date of RP: Later.
Where: Courtyard - Mergorand Castle, Beresgond, Two Rivers
Room Desc: A huge maple tree stands in the center of the courtyard beside a fountain made of white marble. A depiction of a young slender female standing at a river has been carved into the stone by a local famous stone mason. The fountain and the tree offer a most welcome shelter from the heat during the hot days of summer. The tall building of the keep towers to the north, whilst stables, a smithy and a huge building for servants are located to the east and west. The faint sound of sparring can usually be heard coming from the area beyond the stables, the training yard, and a small path leads around the servants' building towards the Castle Gardens.


Word had travelled from the Woods of Mergorand all the way to the Royal residence of Mergorand Castle, that visitors from Estoria had passed the city of Woodwatch, a fact which was enough to stir the locals. It was not so much because of the fact that few travellers were spotted on the road to the neighbour kingdom these days - it is winter after all, but even so contacts had been scarce. Nor was it that these travellers had taken much time to stop by at Woodwatch Keep itself. No, it was said no more than a messenger entered the castle of the Fennims, to convey greetings and inform of the Estorian delegation that would pass their duchy. It seemed the travellers did not wish to lose any time to reach their destination.

What stirred the inhabitants of Woodwatch was what they glimpsed of the group of riders, which was two dozens strong; led by a proud man in his late thirties, bearing the coat of arms of House Bjornsvatr; a woman riding with them as well, with one arm wrapped about a smaller form sitting before her, a child that was not older than four or five years; two younger girls following her, ahorse, blonde like their mother, and likewise competent riders despite their young age.

It had to be her. The long awaited betrothed of the King of Two Rivers.

Sigrid Bjornsvartr.

So it may come as no surprise that when the delegation finally enters the courtyard of Mergorand Castle, they will be greeted by King Barret Brais himself, standing among a small group of curious retainers. Brown eyes will lighten up when they watch the visitors ride in, a smile warming the king’s features, when an odd little flicker appears in his gaze. Could it be that the king is a bit nervous?


“Oi, my King! Greeting your betrothed standing at the horizon like a marble statue? Long enough these lands have been petrified by sorrow, it’s time to move,” the Duchess muses, nudging the milky flanks of her mare to fall from trot to canter. While the youngest child, tightly hold in her arms begins chirping with delight and giggles the older two fall behind,their joy perhaps muffled by insecurity and lessons in ettiquette when it comes to meetings with Royality. The man at her side seems to be prepared and keeps up with good humour.

Her head held high she answers the surging glances with jovial grace. Even if it isn’t to be heard a choir of mutters is born at this very instance, many a peasant has snuck by to catch a glimpse on her today. She has been seen at this yard before, wearing the grey of moaning instead of the festive blue she chose to fit her garments today, to attend to late Queen Livia’s funeral. None of the bystanders would have believed the occasion of her return to be so different.

“Your Grace,” she speaks more softly as she arrives, the rataplan of hooves beginning to dry up behind her. There, in the flickering of her own smile, in the blush of her cheeks her own hidden nervousness waits. “The journey has been a long one, but as the more profound is the delight I feel to finally be here. It is an honour.”


“Lady Sigrid,” the king greets after a moment that was required to gather his wits, stepping closer to offer his betrothed a hand, ot maybe even two, in helping her off the horse - if required. “I hope the travel was at least pleasant enough, despite its length?” Taking the bits Sigrid offers to engage in the conversation. “It is no lie to say you have been eagerly awaited,” he’ll add, at a lower volume.

Realizing suddenly, that his assistance may be more required in helping the little girl sitting in front of Sigrid off the horse, he reaches for the future step-daughter. “You must be Liv, young lady,” a kind smile is given to her when Barret lifts little Liv off the horse. “I am glad to meet you. I’m…” Here he pauses. “Barret. King Barret Brais.” A light pat will be given to Liv’s cheek, if she allows. His attention then will shift back to Lady Sigrid Bjornsvartr.

“And true words,” he comments on what she just said. “Times of sorrow, they should finally be over. Two Rivers would certainly deserve it.” As does perhaps the king, standing before her, the lines in his face bearing witness to each loss he has suffered.


“Yes, I am Lady Liv and I already know that you are the King, my Grace,” the four year old girl answers as she willingly lets herself being patted and lifted.

“Your Grace, little lady, I told you to address him as ‘your Grace’ that is his title. It won’t be easy, but you have to share him with his people. And me,” Sigrid gently corrects, slipping from horseback and readjusting her skirts.

“May I introduce you to my other daughters Eilif and Solveig?” The first has already, much like the mother, slipped from her horse, dipping a sweeping curtsy from a respectful distance while the latter stays up her horse, her gaze still dark and suspicious, until Duke Kjeld makes sure she is lifted from her mount as well. Not lingering too long on correcting her daughters’ behaviour she continues, speaking up: “For my part, I promise to do everything I could to see Two Rivers prosper,” and dips a curtsy of her own, dousing the bystanders with a warm smile.

“Our travel has had its adventurous parts. Three days ago we were staying in a smaller village for the night, a pack of wolves was threatening the streets.. My men had to stop and take care of it, we brought the furs with us, for they belong to Duke Alajos by right. Maybe it is time for a hunt or two in these lands. Otherwise we did enjoy our ride. My daughters haven’t been travelling much, so there was a lot to teach them on the way.”


“You truly /have/ grace, little Lady Liv,” the King quips back towards the little girl, patting her head with his hand if she should allow it. “You may call me Barret though, if you like.”, he offers with a wink, in a low albeit friendly grumble. He remains at Liv’s side, his gaze shifting to where Sigrid dismounts. “My lady.” He offers her a bow. “Whatever adventures you’ve encountered on your way, I am glad you made it here safely. However, I would like to hear more about them, once you’ve had some time to get yourself settled in your chambers. “Of that I’m sure,” King Barret remarks next when Sigrid assures him of her willingness to assist in making Two Rivers prosper. “Why, it already has. Wolf pelts you say? I am sure Duke Alajos will allow you to keep them, should you feel so inclined. See it as a welcoming gift of Woriscant. To the betrothed of the king.”

Odd as his expression gets when he speaks those words, his smile a touch awkward as he lowers his gaze. The moment is brief however, and soon Barret looks up again and continues: “As for hunts… The best hunting grounds are to be found in the Woods of Woriscant. I can write to the Duke, and ask him for an invitation for his next hunt.” His gaze flits to the two older daughters as they are introduced. “Lady Eilif. You look well, and I can see you have recovered from that illness that kept your mother from travelling here earlier. Welcome.” A smile is offered to the girl that has already dismounted, very much in that lively fashion her mother has done a moment ago. Bushy eyebrows are raised next, observing the other daughter whose enthusiasm appears to be somewhat dimmed. “Lady Solveig. I am honoured to make your acquaintance.” A bow is offered to the girl as she is lifted off the horse by her uncle. After which the king will address him as well. “Duke Kjeld. I thank you for escorting Lady Sigrid and her children here. I offer you my hospitality and hope you will stay with us for a few days.”


“Me and my lovely daughters enjoy the pink of our health.“ Sigrid declares merrily while the older two greet the King with a few words of the same appropriate courtesy, yet still not the same amount of enthusiasm. “And there are already enough fine furs to adorn my wardrobe, I’ve been wearing wolf and bear, fox and ermine as long as I could think. I’d rather prefer to enjoy the milder weather here with sammat and wool. The time for another hunt will come soon enough - I’d glady join them, when they are riding, be it to put clothes on those who freeze in these winternights. For now, methinks, we crave a bath. Your people already think of names they could call me, let’s make sure they won’t include ‘Sigrid the dishevelled’ or the ‘Scented Bride’.” As the King, the leader and ruler of Two Rivers lowers his gaze at her, her breath stammers, the blush of chills joined by a blush that sources from an inner spot that is irreversibly moved by this man from this very moment on.

Her brother in law does not seem to care for blushes. “An honour to be invited, your Grace, an’ my duty to make sure she is treated well. The sheep added to her dowry comes in flocks within the next few weeks. S’pose the Fennims could send a few men to make sure neither those mangy wolfes nor ruddy robbers will do them harm on their way.”


“Health is a vital asset,” the king remarks, when the sparkling wit of his charming visitor manages to light some area buried deep within and finds its echo in a mischievious gleam in those brown eyes. “And one we can certainly use more of in these lands, Lady Sigrid. “As for the bath, I am sure something of that kind is already being prepared for you and your lovely daughters. But even so, let me assure you that you look remarkable as you are, and I cannot discern any unpleasant scent about you.” An indication of rusty charms slowly awakening in a man whose last time of courting seems to have happened ages ago. He extends his hand, reaching for that of Sigrid, should she allow it, a daring gesture perhaps for an old king. Still the opportunity of a more gallant greeting is taken. As will be the fingers of the Estorian lady of royal blood, when royal lips will brush them in something close to a kiss.

Straightening, King Barret inclines his head towards the Bjornsvartr duke. “I am honoured to have you as my guest, Duke Kjeld. As for the sheep… Yes, I will inform Duke Alajos Fennim to provide every assistance he can to ensure their safe passage through the woods.”

The king’s gaze drifts over the courtyard and he gestures for some stablehands to take care of the horses. “If you would follow me inside now, you will be shown to your quarters. I am sure you will be eager to meet my daughters… At least Princess Luanda will be available. She is most eager to meet you. As for Barbeta… she is currently staying here as well, even though her husband is still up north in the Ningo lands. I hope she will join us. Alas, her health has been a bit tricky of late.”


And follow she does, wearing the gazes of the bystanders like gems around her neck, her daughters in trail like ducklings soon to fledge. The King’s betrothed has arrived and plans to stay for a new era to come.