eachdraidh | VIDEO | MEMORY | DATED TO JULY 22ND

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VIDEO | MEMORY | DATED TO JULY 22ND | OPEN TO BOTH COURTS

[The video comes into focus and it shows Faolan, sitting mounted on a horse, with a woman perched sideways in front of him. He has her balanced against his chest with one arm, holding the reigns with the other. Her hair is a waterfall of silvery moonlight, partially fallen out of the careful plait she has done it up in, and it spills across his chest and over his knees. Though she has obviously been on the road for a while, she is quite obviously a lady. She looks wretched, however, her face pale, and the way she is leaning against his chest, something is obviously wrong. She does not appear to be conscious.]

Go! [Faolan calls out, sharply, to the men who have obviously just helped lift her up in front of him.] Wrad, lead the lady's pony. Creisa, follow him closely and keep your mouth shut. I'll need to take it slowly. Don't want for me, go on up to the others. I want us out of this valley.

[The others mount their hourses, moving steadily across the river channels and gravelly shores in front of them. Faolan guides his own horse forward with his knees. Once they reache the edge of the water, the woman stirs in his arms, reaching out a hand.] What- How- [she murmurs, her eyes still closed. Faolan tightens his grip on her.]

It's all right. We're nearly there. [Faolan reassures her. Her hand comes up and fastens itself in his cloak, her head turning into his shoulder, and she sighs softly. Faolan sits stiff on his horse, although it's clear that something is at war within him as he holds her safe to his chest and guides the horse on in the half-dark. Almost as if he is unaware of it, he starts to sing. Although his voice is soft and rough, although only because he is out of practice - it is clear that with a little warmup, it would be beautiful, the the voice of a man who could make hardened warriors weep.]

...Like summertime her flowing locks, like spring's first blush her skin... Away from Fionnbharr's dazzled mind fied home and craft and kin...

[The song is a tale of a fairy woman of the daoine sidhe, ironic of course, for the emotional turmoil going on inside of him. She stirs in his arms once more and he shushes her.] Keep still. We are nearly safe.

What-

You fainted. I didn't know you were ill. [He says, gently - an odd tone, for Faolan.]

Oh- Oh, gods, oh, I'm sorry- [She protests, but he shushes her again and shifts his position, balancing her slight weight as the horse scrambles out of the last stretch of water and began the ascent of the steep path on the other side. There is by now barely enough light to show the way.] You were singing...

Me? [Faolan retorts, looking down at her as she sits in his arms.] Hardly. You're the one who does that. [Her eyes seem to lock on hers for a long moment, and the vision fades out.]

((ooc: green is faolan, blue is "the lady"))

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...I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was looking at till it was done. I didn't mean to see.

[She sounds, and feels, very small.]

[Well... Shit. Although he supposes it could be worse, but still. Seeing Ana, that memory broadcast from the outside, it definitely hurts.]

Not your fault. I didn't mean for it to be broadcast, and yet here we are.

I've been so careful not looking at the lockets while this is going on, and I thought surely it's done by now. It's nobody's business, none of it.

Clearly somebody thinks that it's their business, if they're delving into my head for things like that.

[He sighs.] I suppose you'll have your questions then as well.

No. I'm not like that, I promise.

[Faolan raises his eyebrows, but he's not complaining. After a moment, he nods to her.]

Thank you. For not asking questions. I would understand if you wanted to. But I appreciate that you don't.

I know too many prying folk and gossips. I'd hate myself if I ever became one.

Hate is a strong word. Questions sometimes deserve asking. But I'm grateful you recognize that this, at least, is not one of those circumstances.

No. It's not. It seldom is. I still meant it.

Well then. I thank you for your discretion. My past is not one that I enjoy having displayed for all the land to see. Even if there are worse memories the locket could have chosen.

[ Celegorm is tucked into an unlit corner of his tent in the late evening; the only light is that of the moon, filtering through the fabric. His pallor, fine and pale as undyed porcelain, is such that he seems luminous, and his unbound hair is a froth of gold about his face.

He looks terribly feminine arranged so, hands tucked near his chin, terribly small and fine and fragile. ]

You have a very fine voice for singing.

[Faolan runs his hand through his hair. Faolan looks... Not embarrassed, per se, but uncomfortable. His singing, his life as a bard, it was a part of his life that has long since been buried. What Ana awoke in him? It should never have happened.]

You flatter. It is part of my past that is best left forgotten...

[ Celegorm's white teeth are a fleeting flash in the dark, just a little smile, but very earnest. ]

Among the ancient lore of my people, they say the world and all things in it had their first beginnings wrought in a great song; and that this first song is echoed in all things. The sigh of the ocean, the creak of the boughs under the wind, the beating of all hearts. Song is the one thing that unites even the most disparate creatures and souls. Even the hardest heart has a tune he loves.

I should like to hear you sing, one day. Why do you say it should be forgotten? Is it not a prized talent, among your people?

[Faolan shifts uncomfortably.] It is. I worked long years to develop my skills. But my days as a bard are a period of my life long-gone. I proved that I was much better at cutting throats then I could ever be at being a man.

[He's only confiding in you about this because this is locked and because you already know his secret, Celegorm. I hope you appreciate this fact.]

Why should that mean that you must give up singing...? Just because you're better at another thing?

[ His brows furrow with confusion. ]

[Faolan frowns.] Because I am no longer the man I was then. And being a bard... It brings back memories I would rather left forgotten.

[After her own debacle, she shouldn't look at the lockets, but misery loves company and if her own shame has been broadcast at least she can feel better that she is not the only one.]

You sing prettily.

[Faolan may not know her personally, but he knows a lady when he sees one, and so he addresses her as such. She reminds him of Ana in such a way that makes his heart clench, especially after the vision of her memory is so fresh in his mind.]

Thank you for the compliment, my lady. This was...a memory, of an event gone by.

They seem to be painful for most of us. I apologize for the intrusion.

It's not your intrusion. Whatever saw fit to broadcast this is where I really find blame, but not in you.

You are kind to say so. But I know the feeling myself.

[And then another pause.]

She's beautiful. [Lucrezia feels she does not need to ask if they made it.]

[Quietly:] She is. [He sighs, slightly.] There are reasons why my unconscious mind compared her to a fairy princess.

She would do well here.

She probably would. She's the resilient type. Stubborn to the core.

[He makes a decision to make a reveal, and can't help how bitter the words come out.] She'd never be happy here, though. Not without him.

Edited 2014-07-31 01:50 (UTC)

Another? But does she not love you so?

She loves another more. Someone who could make her far more happy than me. A prince. And she's a princess. Who am I to stand in their way...

((ooc: my apologies for the wait, i had company and a convention and time got away from me >> i'd love to continue if you're game!))

Titles mean little to matters of the heart. Of this I know well. [And she hurts for it.]

Does she love you?

[A pause.]

Whether she loves me or not is irrelevant. She loves Drustan. She's marrying him. I'm just a... [Nope, can't go there.] Who am I to stand in the way of 'true love'.

[The words are bitter. Whatever he may or may not have believed in before, one thing is for certain. His heart has been shattered, and he has sworn off love and the very idea of it now and forever more.]

I can tell you marriage does not mean love. In more cases I would say it is duty and nothing more. [Even if she longs for it.]

Of course it doesn't. She was meant to marry Drustan's brother, Alpin. That would have been a marriage of strategy. But it was Drustan that she fell in love with. It just so happened that he's an equally worthy chieftain as well, and now with Alpin out of the picture... Well. They have the King's blessing. What more do they need.

A woman can only marry one man, for all that she may claim to love another as well.

[bitter bitter bitter bitter]

And does it matter if she still loves you? Would it not be better to be loved than to not be?

[Perhaps it is a naive question to ask, but she had so much hope on her wedding day that her husband would love her, and at each turn she has been denied it. He is a man of few words.]

It sounds a lot prettier to say that. 'At least you found love, even if you could not have it.' Those that say such things do not realize what a loss such a thing comes with as well.

I fell in love with a beautiful thing that I could not have. And I should have known it from the start. I was foolish, and it cost us both dear.

[The princess and her bard. The ward to the king and the king's assassin. Never mind his own pedigree, it was irrelevant in the land of the Priteni. He and Anna were never meant to be, and that was that. Curse her for worming her way into his heart and reminding him what it was like to feel again.]

((ooc: wow i am LOVING this cr even from just this one conversation i would love for them to have further interactions somehow if you are game with that??? ;3;))

I knew a boy once. He was from the east, a brother to a Sultan. He could never be mine for he was Muslim as well. But he was mine all the same, tender and he looked upon me like I was a treasured jewel. [She smiles sweetly to think of Djem, though there is pain behind that look.]

He was taken from me before he could even be mine. And his death added to my dowry. So how do I feel? That a dear, sweet friend whom I could have loved died most likely at the hands of my family so I could wed a man twice my age for his armies.

It does not ease me. But I can remember the way he touched my hand when we danced. I can remember his smile. It is not a fair world in which we live, but this is all I have. [And the fact that it is coming out of her mouth, a petite blonde girl, is probably all the more crushing.]

ooc: she's in Seelie court because her canon point is so early. At some point she should be traveling though. I'm not sure where or how long, yet, but I would always love more!

[He listens to her story solemnly, and once he is finished, does his best to offer his condolences] I'm sorry for your loss, my lady.

((ooc: faolan is in seelie court at the moment as well, even though he's unseelie, so maybe they could run into each other??))

Do not be sorry for me, though your words are kind, for I still live. In this I am more fortunate than he was. [And nothing can ease her anyway.]

ooc: she's going on the mission with Tarrlok, but if you want to do something before that's cool.

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VIDEO | MEMORY | DATED TO JULY 22ND | OPEN TO BOTH COURTS

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