RP:An Alliance Through Marriage

From HollowWiki

Part of the Rise of Larket Arc


Summary: Hildegarde invites Macon to meet in Schezerade to negotiate for peace. Josleen accompanies Hildegarde to the negotiations which begin amicably then quickly turn tense. The Thane asks for something relatively small (land, estate, gold) which nonetheless angers King Macon, but his real quarrel is with Hildegarde who asks for an Eyrie outpost in or close to Larket.

In a moment of inspiration, Macon proposes that he marry as Josleen, and through this marriage, an alliance may be formed. Josleen agrees, but not without hurt and humiliation. She storms out shortly after agreeing. The monarchs shake hands on all terms of the alliance:

  1. Frostmaw pays for repairs in Larket.
  2. Frostmaw recognizes Macon as the legitimate king of Larket.
  3. Should Frostmaw capture Kelovath, he will be handed over to Larket to be tried.
  4. Larket will permit Frostmaw to establish an Eyrie outpost in the Eternal Forest.
  5. Larket will announce surrender to Frostmaw.
  6. Larket will favor Frostmaw in future trade deals.
  7. King Macon will marry Thane Josleen, uniting the two cities through marriage.

Frostmaw Fort

Hildegarde hadn’t been in this ‘cupboard’ for a while now. Her business as Queen had often kept her away from the solitude of the cupboard, a place she once liked to hide and collect her thoughts privately as she sharpened her blades and gently cleaned her armour. It was almost like a ritual: the cleansing of her armour cleansed her thoughts, the sharpening of her blade sharpened her will to survive. Here she sat upon a bench, whetstone rushing against Oathkeeper in sharp, practiced motions before she set the stone aside and gently brought the pommel of the blade to her lips. “What have I become?” she asked of no one in particular, murmuring against the golden pommel. Where was her liege lord? Her Queen? When had she become the Queen of the North, reluctant conqueror and – according to some – a true spirit of Aramoth. Macon would meet her or he wouldn’t. There would be peace or there would not be. But the time to decide had come, the time to make or break was now. With a sigh, the Silver brought her sword up a little higher and gently rested her forehead against the passive golden lion head.


Josleen had just returned from ‘visiting her parents’ in Xalious. That’s the excuse she gave anyone who asked, anyway. One night away in Xalious, she said. She made sure to scrub herself well so no saurian nose would detect the fib. Clueless to Queen Hildegarde’s invitation of King Macon to meet for peace talks. The Thane, having spent a clandestine night with the King, returns more resolute than ever to achieve peace. She asks for the Queen and is met with shrugs. Not in her room, not in the throne room, or training yard, or war council room. Aha. Josleen guesses it. The cupboard. Those closest to the Queen know of this habit of hers. Josleen gently knocks. “Hilde, it’s me.”


Hildegarde recognised the voice on the other side of the door. Part of her wanted to fall silent and just pretend she wasn’t there at all, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. With a small measure of reluctance, she rises from her spot on the bench and relinquishes one hand from the short-sword to open the door. “Jos,” she said softly. Her armour has been shined, the fur trimmed frost-worm silk cloak bearing Frostmaw’s sigil proudly hangs from her shoulders. The blue iron band that represented her station sits neatly upon her head, a dull contrast amidst her fiery hair. “I have written to Macon, though it appears I am much too late,” she said softly. “I am sorry. I should have written when you urged,” but she needed more time. She needed the time to study and learn more about her enemy. “Lionel… he marched without my command,” she feels Josleen will have already known that Hilde wouldn’t have gone ahead like that, but she feels as though she must verify. “I have invited Macon to meet me in Schezerade,” it’s neutral territory after all, “so I am departing there shortly. Do you wish to join me?”


Josleen knew about the battle and her instinct, as embarrassing as it is to admit (so she won’t), was to write to Macon to ask after his health. Infatuation leaves no room for reason. It’s all impulse and desire. But her friendship and loyalty to Hildegarde has longer roots. It’s an older tree, hard to knock, and fiercely protected by both women. She studies her friend’s reluctance even as she smiles at the good news. Her infatuated heart skips a beat too. “Oh Hilde, I am glad to hear it. It’s the right call.” She clasps the dragon’s free hand between her own. “Yes, I would love to go. You can tell me your strategy on the way so that I may better serve. I can imagine you’re rather cross Lionel, but I am sure he had his reasons… misguided as they may have been. Will Lionel be joining us?”


Hildegarde sighs as Josleen clasps her hand between her own. It was a gentle reminder that there was much and more worth fighting for still. Yet at the mention of Lionel, her mood sours ever so slightly. “No. He will not be joining,” he had lost that right, “not unless I plan to give him up to Macon as recompense for what happened.” And she certainly didn’t plan on doing that. “As far as I am concerned, we are not to mention Lionel. If Macon brings him up, so be it. But Lionel stays behind,” she needed someone capable in Frostmaw who could break her rules and act should things go awry. “We must be off soon, though. Wasting time. I’d rather be there first or early.” The knight sheathed her blade and briefly leaned back to grasp her gleaming halberd. “Ready?” she asked Josleen, offering the Thane her arm politely.

Josleen nods in agreement with Hildegarde’s decision about Lionel. “Good. I do not believe Lionel will be well received by King Macon. This is for the best.” She hooks her arm around Hildegarde’s and says she is ready. Indeed her bag is still packed from her trip to ‘Xalious’. Butterflies flutter in her stomach as she prepares herself for, hopefully, the beginning of the end of this war. Soon.

Jubilant Garden, Schezerade

In Schezerade, as they wait for Macon, Josleen asks, “What will you ask of him in return for peace?”


Hildegarde said to Joslen, “I could say his life. But that would make me a bully, would it not? Ah, I don't know. Trade, no doubt. I could use some money to rebuild my city.”


Josleen nods at Hildegarde’s idea. “I think I too will ask for something…” she says enigmatically. “For myself, personally. Though I am not yet sure if I will…I’ll decide in the moment. I want the estate Kelovath bought. I should start accruing wealth of my own.” She waits for Macon to arrive.


Macon has received Hildegarde’s communication and responded in favor of the meeting and selected meeting place. The King of Larket travels in The Rage Armor and carries the empty great axe of the same temperament almost like a crutch. This, maybe more than anything, is official Larketian business so he also wears the marble crown of Larket atop his head. The Rage Knight is however, missing plate armor on one of his legs, which is broken and is set for healing purposes. He has made it to Schezerade by way of the sky pier and is accompanied, as usual, by six Kingsguard, all of which Josleen will recognize from her month and a half long stay at Fort Freedom, most notably Wendell and an anti-magic user she hand picked for the position. The seven Larketians are led by a pair of avian officers from the pier to the agreed meeting location.


Hildegarde, having arrived in the garden, was swift to approach one of the stone benches and secure a spot for herself and Josleen. She would quietly chat to the Thane, talking of the garden and its beauty; the nature of the herbs and flowers that could be found there. Perhaps Josleen might find some of use. But the peace of the garden – or perhaps the peace of Hildegarde’s mind – is soon disturbed by the marching footsteps of officers, warriors and a more noble man. “He’s almost here,” was a murmured whisper to Josleen, as if to say she had best prepare for what was to come next. It is only when the visitors arrive that Hildegarde finally rises from the stone bench: bedecked in her plate armour, the fur trimmed cloak echoing the fashion and necessities of her snowy kingdom. “Greetings,” she offered to those who entered the garden. A civil greeting for a civil meeting. The officers are welcome to leave, should they so desire. Hildegarde has brought no Queensguard, no men, nothing but herself and Josleen.


Josleen shares anecdotes about the few plants she recognizes in this garden. It’s a fine way to pass the time, but in truth she could care less about herbs as they wait. Every sound, no matter how slight, has her looking towards the entrance, expecting the Rage Knight. After several false alarms, he is finally here. She stands with her queen and shifts her weight nervously as the kingsguard and Macon enter and exchange hello’s. She steals a look at Macon then looks away nervously. She says her hello’s, a touch more warmly that Hildegarde given the nature of her relationship with the Larketians present, even the guards. Unsure what to do with herself now, her hands clasp behind her back, then before her hips, then drop at her sides. She grows hot under the collar, but her face remains coolly unreadable. Let the monarchs start.


Macon remains calm at the sight of Hildegarde, who he believes to be responsible for two attacks on his kingdom in the span of as many weeks. Surely he has received advice to remain level headed during this meeting from someone who likely got growled or shouted at immediately afterwards. “Your Highness.” He gets his return greeting out without the slightest hint of sarcasm before scanning the garden briefly and bidding his entourage to leave them be. About fifty percent of the Kingsguard present favor Josleen and offer polite nods her way when she greets them while the other remain professionally still. All six of them exit with the avian men who saw them in, a couple of the guards somewhat reluctant to leave their charge in the garden alone with a dragon and an enchantress. The Rage Knight finds just the right moment while his men leave to steal a glance towards the enchantress and nothing more. To Hildegarde once again he speaks, “Let us begin.” She’s invited him here, so surely, he believes, it falls to her to get things underway.


Hildegarde watched as the men filed out of the garden, almost surprised that they left their charge. But this was surely a good sign. “Do you wish to sit?” she asked, gesturing to a stone bench. She will not bid him to do it or enforce it, she will be polite enough to offer however. “I find it warm here,” she commented absently, as if she were catching up with a friend rather than about to sue for peace. “I’m not one for fancy words. I don’t think you are either,” she doesn’t say it unkindly. “We both want peace between our… our kingdoms, it is not impossible to achieve this. Blood has been spilled. More blood need not join it due to our inability to see eye to eye. An agreement between us can save the lives of many. It can save us both time, effort and resources.”


Josleen nods as Hildegarde speaks. She chooses to remain standing. In order to better facilitate the brokerage of peace, she follows Hildegarde’s introduction with a the first step in negotiation. “As Queen Hildegarde said, we’re all here because we want peace, but both sides have a price. If there was no price, we’d have peace already. So, what does Larket want in exchange for lowering its arms?”


Macon pictures himself, at her offer to sit, shuffling and struggling over to the bench while using the Rage Axe as a walking stick and losing the cumbersome stone crown of Larket to gravity in the process. So he declines to have a seat with a subtle tilt of his head and a repositioning of himself, slightly leaning against this weapon of choice, in order to settle in while still standing as tall as possible in his injured state. The Furious King nods in agreement with most everything that Hildegarde says and when Josleen speaks he takes that opportunity to turn his stone stare her way. The Rage Knight and his Kingdom have several demands, and Macon opens with the simpler ones first, “We ‘ave both lost may of our peoples’ lives in this fight…” he pauses and his eye twitches slightly at that fact, “...but the battle ‘as mostly been fought in Larket. Frostmaw mus’ finance the repairs to Fort Freedom and ‘alf the repairs of the bridge between Sage and the city.” Waving a hand and making money appear is easy, he assumes and blazes right on by those demands into the heavier ones, “Frostmaw will recognize my claim to the Throne of Larket as legitimate and as the will of its people. It will not provide safe ‘aven for the Fallen Paladin Kelovath Khasmin and should he be captured he will be surrendered to Larket where he will answer for ‘is crimes agains’ the Kingdom.” His brow furrows and he thinks for a moment. Those last two demands, had Hildegarde met them months ago when she came to Larket to free Hureig, could have led to this whole war being avoided. “Ah! And I believe you ‘ave my crown.”


Hildegarde listened to Macon’s demands and conditions in silence, her head tilting here and there as if to say she was paying attention to each and every term. “Clarify your meaning of finance, if you would. Is that to be gold or recompense in other manners that can be considered as capital?” Frostmaw had exited a brutal civil war, after all. Cold and shiny gold might not be an option here, but capital in other means might be. She had gems and stones aplenty, after all, just waiting to be cashed in. “If you are agreeable to capital, then I can agree to this term. Bridge included,” the bridge would be important for trade. As Macon makes his term about Kelovath, Hildegarde’s own eye had twitched ever so slightly. “Agreed. Should Kelovath be captured in Frostmaw, he will await Larket’s justice,” she assures him. When Macon speaks of the crown, Hildegarde nods her head. “Ah, yes, it’s in the fort. I can have it returned to you, but… the gem within it, it came loose from its fitting,” she explains to him. “I believe it was perhaps damaged when someone absconded with it. I apologise for that, but I am sure Larket has many other pretty gems to replace it with,” she doesn’t wish to yet acknowledge its magical potencies. “Are these all your demands?”


Macon bobs his head from side to side while explaining that however Frostmaw chose to pay would be agreeable to him. The Kelovathian term is agreed to and this brings a genuine smile to The Death Knight’s face, which is quickly dashed when Hildegarde tells him that The Rage Stone was damaged and pretends to pass the furious artifact off as a simple gem. The Rage Knight raises a brow and eyes the dragon queen suspiciously. It is probably not best to call your negotiation opponent a liar, and so he doesn't. “I see…” but if she won't speak of the item's power then he will, “Tha’ is unfortunate. I would still take it, even damaged. If you are sayin’ tha’ it is lost or discarded though… I mus’ warn you. We ‘ave seen wha’ it can do in the wrong ‘ands...” He is referring to how Kelovath used it to control the mad Fermin in Macon’s version of history, “I am sure you can agree tha’ it mus’ be kept safe. I would ‘ave preferred to do tha’ myself.” The theft of The Rage Stone is still a sore spot for him, but he is willing to move on for the sake of Larket, having said his peace, “Now surely you ‘ave some conditions of your own?”


Hildegarde smiled at Macon as he spoke of keeping the stone out of the wrong hands. “Oh, Frostmaw will keep the stone safe. We can consider it a token of peace between us, no? You get the crown, we keep the stone. It is like a symbol of our new…” she ponders for a moment, as if seeking the word, “new relationship.” With Macon having said his piece regarding the stone and Hildegarde reassuring him that it would be used as a sign of good faith, the Silver nods at his mention of conditions. “Indeed,” she assured him. “We seek a trade deal that will favour us. I would have that Frostmaw is first and foremost when Larket seeks to sell its goods, I think a city that must rebuild would have good use for a city that must sell its goods.” The Silver pauses so as to let this term sink in before moving onto the next one. “I used to be very good friends with Duke Jonn of the Vibrance. He inherited it from his father, the then Sheriff of Larket. I should like a small outpost by the Vibrance, if you would not disagree. The Eyrie could certainly use a place to pick up goods and to deliver trade. The outpost would keep them hale and hearty!” Amongst other things. Who would pass up the opportunity to trade more quickly and to such a large degree? Macon had asked for three things, which made it only seem fair that Hildegarde did too. “You and I, Macon, are old hands at war by now. You and I likely know the sordid history between our two cities. Larket has no love for Frostmaw, nor Frostmaw any love for Larket. Larket abandoned Frostmaw in its time of need; Larket did not send the aid it had promised then snickered behind our backs when our enemies came down upon us. Larket stained its own honour, it wounded Frostmaw deeply,” she recounts, just in the off chance Macon wasn’t quite so aware. “But this wound can be healed,” she said, her hand making an open gesture. “All that is required is for Larket to claim it cannot push on with this war. It need not say it has lost. It need not say it is inferior. Only that it cannot continue. That will satisfy the honour. That will satisfy my people.”


Josleen has been thinking of requesting a condition of her own, a personal one. Hildegarde’s bargain is hard, especially the ‘trade’ outpost. Sure, ‘trade’ helped along by Frostmaw’s personal airforce of baby air serpents and other winged beasts. She almost decides not to escalate things with her plan, which she has thought of since the days just after she realized Kelovath was false. She needs to plan for her future, now that her last bet has failed. Sure, her last encounter with Macon was everything she had wanted it to be. The way he touched her and looked at her made her feel wanted for longer than just until peace was obtained. But still, he never promised anything, and even if he had, he wouldn't have been the first man to promise Josleen the moon. All those before him fell short of even the sky. She’s been burned too many times to pin her hopes--and finances--on men, even kings. Looking over the last four years, her wealth was always inextricably linked to the wealth of whatever man loved her--or claimed to love her-- in the moment. No, that’s enough of that. She’s a Thane now, a woman of station by her own right, and she’ll build her own damn wealth. “While I maintain that King Macon always treated me with dignity, and was generous in his accommodations of me, I cannot ignore that I was initially captured against my will. My captor, Thronnel, was rough with me and disrespectful. He later assaulted me, and while he was properly punished by King Macon,” here she looks to Macon and adds, “for which I am grateful,” then she looks away, “there are still reparations to be made for Larket’s infractions against me.” She doesn’t meet what she expects to be Macon’s glower. He won’t like it; she knows, but she needs to get hers, too. To hell with counting on the charity of men. It is a charity predicated on the vagaries of their hearts (and other body parts). If Macon dumps her tomorrow, what then? “The traitor, Kelovath Khamsin, bought an estate in northwestern Larket. It is a sizable estate, King Macon knows of which I speak. I want the deed in my name, and the acreage expanded by six acres to be drawn on the map at my discretion. And, I want the value that Kelovath paid reimbursed to me with a 40% premium. Gold, delivered to my account in Frostmaw.”


Macon, the businessman that he came to Larket to be, considers the proposed trade deal. While he finds the initial wording unsavory, ‘favorable to Frostmaw,’ he does agree that the stone city could benefit as well with an agreement such as this with a rebuilding kingdom. He can make this happen with a decree or two, though it might upset a few that do business within and with Larket and Larketian merchants. He agrees to this term on the condition that he and his advisors can examine the proposed deal more carefully to avoid any economically catastrophic snafus in its implementation. Hildegarde’s next two conditions give him pause, possibly because of how they combine into one large slight. He moves against Josleen’s personal demands first, putting off the harder bargain. He delivers that glower she is expecting and doesn't disappoint the title of Rage Knight with the look he shoots the Thane. What is she doing? Her request is such a simple one that he could cover the cost of it out of his own deep pocket, but he fights back on principal. “You may ‘ave the deed t’the home and the added land. I will not pay you.” Cold, stone stare shifts back to Hildegarde and the outpost demand. “Just as Frostmawians are not trusting of Larketians because of their history that you ‘ave brought up. Larketians are not trusting of Frostmawians thanks t’our more recent history. The freeing of The Fallen Paladin and the multiple attacks on the city ‘ave left them weary. An outpost anywhere near the city will cause unres’ an’ it will be my responsibility to keep the outpost from harm. I cannot agree to this because Larket cannot agree to this.” He hides behind the hatred the he himself, with the aid of the Rage Stone, riled up in his people, and that Hildegarde and Lionel fed into. While he speaks the truth of not believing the Larketian public will stand for the outpost, the true reason behind denying it is that he just plain doesn't want it at all. The final condition, admitting that Larket cannot press on in this war, is bordering on a truth. He finds it difficult to swallow. He agrees to this begrudgingly, but will probably try to fudge the language slightly in his favor when the official agreement is signed or made.


Hildegarde did not expect Josleen to speak at this meeting, nor to demand a term of her own. Though she does not glower at Josleen, it is clear to see in the way that she looks at Josleen that she had not anticipated it and her look is tinged with anger. The knight looks at Macon once more and frowns slightly. “You gave your word to me that you had kept my Thane well. You had told me she was there freely, but the truth is now out. My Thane had been captured and mistreated at the hands of one of your men?” The truth had finally wormed its way out. “Did you intend to keep such truth from me?” it is clear that Hildegarde is quite unhappy with this; that she is insulted by this attempt of secrecy and that it was only now just being sprung upon her. “If Josleen is to hold property in Larket, I should very much like to have that outpost. A solitary tower is all I ask. I’ll even agree to that damnable Eternal Forest,” a place she had outright refused when Josleen had suggested it before, “an outpost can serve as a beacon of health. The first place your wanted criminal, Kelovath, could be taken to should I find him,” she entices.


Josleen sets her jaw against Macon’s glare, and meets the stoney look only briefly. A frown flickers on her lips and she looks away regretfully. This must be done. As for the particulars of her own demands, she settles for land and estate. The Queen is angry, the Thane knows, so having gotten hers, she wisely stays quiet for now.


Macon growls at the accusation from Hildegarde and the silence from Josleen. It -is- true the Thane had been captured and then later harmed by one of Macon’s men, he will not admit guilt here. At least not complete guilt. “She remained at the fort of her own free will. I kept her well…” this is all spoken through gritted teeth with glances towards Josleen to confirm, but she's looking away from him.“The one that harmed her, I dealt with myself. This is the truth.” One more look at Josleen, because it isn't the whole truth. He huffs and even that sounds more like a growl while he shifts weight onto and off of his bad leg with a wince. Gears are turning while he looks back and forth now between Hildegarde and Josleen. He realizes that this is an act the bard is putting on, but can't quite reconcile it with his most recent memory of her in Kelay. Hildegarde presses for the outpost and backs off simultaneously by offering to move the hypothetical building to the forest. “I will marry the Thane of Frostmaw.” He turns up his nose and adopts a stone expression fitting the head of The Marble City. “You will ‘ave your outpost in the forest and the people will not fear an attack while one so precious t’you is their Queen. Josleen will ‘ave the wealth of Larket ‘as her reparations for her -unfit- treatment.” He watches Hildegarde rather than Josleen for what he expects to be an unfavorable reaction to his counter offer.


Hildegarde ’s nostrils visibly flared, threatening to send that all too familiar plume of frost out of them in a sign of disdain. The knight took a small step forward, as if she were merely adjusting her position from standing in one spot for far too long, “She will marry you if she so wishes it. She is not cattle,” the Silver insists sharply. She will not barter Josleen off to this cretin. Not Josleen. The Silver stares at Macon for the longest time, mulling over the possibility of cutting him down now in her head before his Kingsguard could reach him. She could do it. Cut him down, assume her truest of shapes and escape with Josleen in tow. But that was not the way. That was the way of a common brigand and a feral beast, which she was neither. “Josleen?” the Silver says, having now turned to look at her friend and trusted Thane. “Josleen, what say you?” she asks softly. She will not push nor hurry her into a decision.


Josleen, irrationally, gets enraged on par with Macon’s anger. She scowls at no target in particular, and her attention returns to Macon as he pauses to think. His proposal, if it can be called that, blindsides her as much as it blindsides The Silver. Now she glowers at him, but he and Hildegarde are both close enough to Josleen to understand that her glower is an act, it’s a cover for hurt. She’s wounded by something, and just what that something may be Macon would be able to guess long before Hildegarde could. In the tense moments that follow Hildegarde’s question, Josleen simply stares at Macon in disbelief and silence. The corners of her lips tug between a frown and a snarl. “Yes.” Then, reflecting that cold marriage of politics Macon just used with her she says, “I will marry the King of Larket.” She looks away from him to Hildegarde and nods. She leans in to whisper, her voice muted to Macon and destined only for Hildegarde by the grace of bardic magic, “I am alright. I agree with this. But I need to leave the garden now.” Although she intended to wait for Hildegarde’s permission, as this is official Frostmaw business, she simply can’t stand here any longer feeling humiliated and wounded. She storms past Macon to exit the way he came in.


Macon won't apologize. He could do it with just a look, but he won't. The King of Larket maintains his poker face even while Hildegarde accuses him of treating Josleen like cattle, a bargaining chip. It probably seems that way, maybe even to The Thane, but The Rage Knight knows his own intentions. That he is using the negotiations to get what he wants, not using Josleen in negotiations. Now what he wants is storming past him and out of the garden. Finally his stone expression breaks once the bard is no longer in position to see it. He frowns and glances sideways in the direction she passed him on. She said yes, but it didn't feel good, and now he wants to go to her, but he cannot. He blinks a few times and shakes his head to refocus on the Queen that is soon to no longer be his enemy at war, “A-are all of these conditions agreeable t’you then?” That subtle stammer at the beginning of his question is likely the first and only time Hildegarde has seen him flustered, and remember she transformed into a dragon and knocked a hole through his Throne room wall.


Hildegarde cannot help but stare at Macon in such a way that her confusion, disdain, all of it is clear to see. But so too is a little bit of understanding. “They are, yes,” she said quietly. With a sigh, the Silver looked in the direction Josleen had gone off in before finally extending her hand in the direction of Macon to shake upon. “An alliance built on marriage solidifies our peace,” she tells him, though she isn’t overjoyed by it. “Leave her be until she calms,” she warns him should he shake her hand, “and treat her like the finest treasure the world will ever offer you, Macon.” There is an unsaid ‘or else’ in that sentence, but that’s likely expected.


Macon has to put some effort into getting this very important handshake right. This is likely the most impactful agreement either of these two young monarchs have made. The Rage Knight changes hands with which he holds his massive weapon and shifts his weight again before taking Hildegarde’s extended hand firmly. Stone eyes meet the dragon's and he nods to her instruction/threat. “Aye,” he responds simply with a slight sigh. Finally Larket, and Frostmaw too, can rest.