RP:Guilty of Being Not-A-Witch

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc

Summary: Eirik is tried for the murder of Hanna, an employee of Hudson’s nail salon and a witch. The court finds him guilty, but at the (‘secret’) behest of the King, is let off with a slap on the wrist: witch education clases at the Academy of Larket, damages to be paid to Hanna’s family, then permanent exile from the Hard City whose justice today was soft.

Courtroom, Larket

Josleen has never attended a trial in her life, let alone as the Queen of the city prosecuting a man to whom she is sympathetic. That may seem strange given the fact the man in question is held on a murder charge for the brutal slaughter of a young witch, which was committed before hundreds of witnesses including herself and her husband, the King, who sits beside her in a booth carved aside for dignitaries. Macon watches the proceedings with his own misgivings, to be sure, but Josleen cannot even begin to unravel why she feels the way she feel, so far be it from her to know Macon’s thoughts, though she can guess. The Larketian justice system, it should be noted, does not provide a check on the King. This is a monarchy. Sure, there are judges, who are appointed by a council of judges and lawyers. However, their appointments may be blocked or overturned by the King. There is also a jury, not of the defendant’s peers, but of lawyers, dignitaries, authority figures, and so on. This jury pool is selected by the came council that appoints judges. A nomination to the jury pool may be blocked or overturned by the King. Decisions made by a jury in any trial may also be overturned by the King, and sentences handed down by judges may be overturned and modified by, you guessed it, the King. A trial is only as ‘fair’ (in the modern anachronistic 2017 democratic sense) as the judge and jury is neutral, and the King is too distracted to care. He is not distracted today, he is present, for the first time since sitting on the Throne, and his presence makes the judges and lawyers present very nervous. To Eirik’s benefit, Larket’s toughest defense attorney has been assigned to him free of charge. The bailiff, Thrustor, fetches Eirik from his cell. He’s an anti-mage and warrior by training, hired to cope with all manner of prisoners. Eirik’s hands and feet are cuffed. The Queen makes a point not to meet Eirik’s eye. She looks almost embarrassed by all of this, though she cannot quite yet work out why. The trial presents a perfect opportunity for self reflection.

Eirik puts up no form of protest, no words or even sign of displeasure as Thrustor fetches him. Without any flare of dramatic entrance, Eirik is brought before the crowd of people; to the courtroom of Larkets justice system looking worse for wear. Without armor or weapons of any kind - chains running to manacles between both ankles and wrists. The Lycans moves to where he is told as Thrustor guides him. From beneath the veil of a scarred visage silver eyes flick from one member of the crowd to the next. His silence deafening. He would take only moments to decipher those he knew and those he didn’t. Yes, he had brutally murdered a witch, but something about that day wasn’t right and he was still trying to figure it out. Near six foot frame comes to a halt and gaze does not meet the royals before him. Instead a bow is offered, he knew how serious this situation was.

Sabrina stood at the area where most were ushered in at some point during the last few hours. She had not moved from her spot, nor did she take a seat with the dignitaries on any tier. She rarely participated in these thing, calling them ‘human affairs’ and so long as they didn’t disrupt the commoner’s way of life she mostly believes these hearings to be a matter of the people. Not today, and because today she is tied so closely to the defendant on trial it would have been ill-mannered to demand that seat now. The room had filled nearly to the brim, leaving little room for outsiders to witness the Larket Judicial system at work. She felt the anger rise when Eirik is brought in like a dog in chains; humility, in her culture, was very high on the list of offending actions. She would remain silent, for now, her trust in how today would turn out growing more poisoned every day since she woke after his arrest.

Meri was a face present among the crowd as she promised Sabrina that she would be. The artist herself had arrived after Sabrina rather than coming in with her friend and it took some effort for Meri to weasel her way through those present to claim a spot next to Sabrina. Her presence is announced to the Elfess by placing a hand briefly upon her shoulder. Meri's hand rests there for a few seconds before falling idle to her side. A courthouse is not a place that Meri dedicates much of her time to and so the often ill-mannered artist follows Sabrina's lead on what socially acceptable behavior is in this place. Sabrina stands silent and stoic, Meri does as well.

Oline found herself seated in attendance at this trial as the sole representative of the Warrior's Guild. She also happened to have witnessed the crime for which the defendant Eirik was charged, and she knew very well what she had seen. What she couldn't figure out was what direction this thing would go. There was no purely beneficial answer. No amount of punishment, not even execution, would satisfy the most unruly of dissenters opposing the King and Queen's reign... but a strong sentencing might serve to weaken their position deeply amongst those who fell in out of fear and misgiving more than revolutionary zeal. On the other hand, giving him a slap on the wrist would send a message to witches everywhere... Larket is not a safe harbor. The giantess had heard much about how... fervant the royals had become in their belief that witches were responsible for the city's recent spat of woes. Would they risk terrifying the innocent and further exacerbating the revolutionaries on the off chance it might run off the witches? Somehow she doubted it would have the intended effect, if that truly did turn out to be their plan. There were so many more possible outcomes too, variations on light punishment or an official excuse... political favoritism... bribery of the officials by one faction or the other... that Oline found it almost impossible to brace herself for any given one of them. Instead, she knelt down in the aisle at the end of the front row of benches and waited. The other boot was about to drop... and there wasn't a sodding thing she could do right now to prepare for it except watch and listen.

Josleen tries to nod at Sabrina but fails to catch her gaze. Judging by the elfess’s tense posture, it’s for the best. The Queen slips her hand into the King’s as the judge calls the room to order. The prosecutor begins by describing what most people in this courtroom saw for themselves. During the Queen’s birthday jubilee there was a protest, witches burned effigies of the King and Queen, an insult to the crown! But this trial is not for those witches. No, the prosecutor insists, we must focus on Eirik and what happened after the effigies were burned. A riot broke out, fist fights, low level rabble rousing and violence, except for Eirik, who brutally, and with his sword, attacked a young, innocent woman who was someone’s daughter, sister, beau. She was a hard working Larketian employed at a local nail salon. For effect, Hanna’s portrait (the woman Eirik killed) hangs before the audience. It helps the prosecutor that she is pretty, sweet-faced and fine-featured, smiling and innocent. The prosecutor goes on to describe the brutal impaling, the beat down, the violent and uncontrollable rage with which EIRIK! (dramatic pointing) pulverized the life out of this sweet, young, promising woman. He removes the beautiful protrait and behind it is an illustration of Hanna’s face, beaten to a bloody red pulp, on the mortician’s table. Josleen winces and sucks a breath between her teeth at the picture, most in the room do. And yet, for some reason, she cannot quite feel the full brunt of the sympathy she would normally feel for a slain young woman. The word the prosecutor has avoided thus far is ‘witch’. Hanna is a witch, and witches, it would seem, are as bad as her husband has long suspected. They seemed to have caused the earthquake, the left a charred body in Gunther’s home, they incited a riot (sort of) and burned horrible effigies of the King and Queen at the Queen’s jubilee. Is the burning of those effigies not a threat? Perhaps it is unfair of Josleen to reserve her sympathy for on-witches, but their crimes have mounted and who knows who the truly innocent are? There’s outcry for the defense of innocent witches, but where’s the outcry against the victims of witches’ crimes which are also tangible and real? The Queen is at odds with herself. Hanna seems to be innocent of recent crimes, but is of a tribe of people who are rarely innocent. The prosecutor says Hanna could have led a life of good for the community, and that is true, but the Queen can’t help but think, ‘or a life of evil.’ Eirik’s lawyer does not look riled by the portraits, lovely or bloody. He has his argument, and waits for prosecutor to finish. Still, the prosecutor’s angle and theatrics has struck a nerve. An older woman shouts at Eirik, “MURDERER!” and a man shouts “HE SHOULD BE HUNG!”

Eirik || Even as eyes return to the search of the crowd, he does not shy away from his position before them all. Though eyes do find familiar sights; Oline being the first noticed. Sabrina and Meri are spotted shortly after but he gives no further indication to note he has seen their presence. The iron curtain of silence still covers his features and gaze moves back to the trial at hand. Eiriks public defender knew the story from his own account. Probably from many others. There is serious circumstantial evidence for Eiriks brutal killing, no matter how gruesome. Being a berserker makes him susceptible to rage, and that day there was much going around. When the King himself asks for a suspect to be apprehended, and a declared witch he raises her hands towards Macon, she becomes a very real threat. All he had done was end that threat, but far more so than what was required. Eirik saw both sides of the argument though his mind hated witches - that much is true. Much like his own lawyer, Eirik is visibly stalwart awaiting to be called on if needed. Even as the title murderer is called out he does not flinch. Silver eyes do gaze upon the pictures presented to the court, and as far as the Lycan knew, she was a witch, which is happens to be a neglected topic. A sigh is finally given at the end of his long winded speech curious about how this would go himself. His own life depended on it.

Sabrina didn’t need Meri’s hand on her shoulder to announce that familiar energy coming from the south entrance, but it would earn a glance in her direction with that tell-tale gaze that something was amiss. The useless eye was cloudy still- emotionless and dead-the other though, full black sclera with a vivid green iris that looked more threatening that not. Meri was one of two who were told how this would end should the verdict read any more unfair than Kelovath’s punishment in a previous publicized trial. She would not stand by a death sentence, and it was evident in her intentional heightened state. There were a great many political approaches on how to handle this event, and then there was the plain facts which were far less incriminating to the accused. Her faith right now was in the sole possession of those two where her focus was sourced. “I haven’t done anything stupid, don’t worry.” But it was evident by the reflections in that glassy orb that that could change in a moment. She was stressed, mentally exhausted beyond compare, and running out of positive vibes. The blonde is given a half-smile anyways, though the Ardent was not too sure what it was supposed to convey. There was a pretty good view of the back of Oline’s head. Sabrina wasn’t too sure how she would fit in, in all of this, but there were aspects of her presence that were slowly being puzzled into a sort of plan, should things go awry. Sabrina is unphased by either portrate, an exasperated sigh is released and it is only when the people scream slanders towards Eirik that she visibly hisses in those directions. Her fists ball, and a step is attempted in that direction when Meri’s grip tightens at her shoulder and anchors her to that place. She is practically seething when she turns back to her friend but something about Meri’s expression also ties her to the reality of it; People needed to grieve, some needed to feel heard… really, Sabsy needed them to stfu. The usually passive female looks more like a caged and feral barn cat than a respected Larketian dignitary in this very moment. And, for the time being Meri’s unspoken actions would accomplish what she likely intended. Pause. Her attention would drift to Eirik once more, and steady her for the time being. He asked her to have faith, he asked her to accept his code. She would not violate that, it is a crime he would never forgive her for.

Macon has been in the shoes Eirik finds himself in now before, in this very same city. He’s heard the calls of ‘Murderer’ and, in some cases, worse shouted his way. He has spun those words and accusations so well that he has been crowned King of Larket. He can only hope that Eirik can maintain composure now during his trial, as Macon did when he was accused. There are some key differences, Macon’s ‘crimes’ were witnessed by less than a handful. This case is of a public execution by comparison. Complete innocence may be out of the question for the court to find here. A good start though, as Eirik, (and The Rage Knight) maintain stoney expressions in the face of the shouts from the gallery and the dramatic actions of the prosecution. The defense is quick to point out that the accused is no doubt a friend to Larket. He came to the city with evidence of wrongdoing against Larketians. He has been assisting in the ongoing investigation of Larketian witches believed to have caused the disastrous earthquake, and making connections to what appears to be a network of wicked witches that reaches all the way to Venturil and beyond. All of these merits are spelled out before the court before the incident is even addressed. “-Witches!- Started the riot that day. We know it. How!? Because of the magical fire used to burn those disgusting mockeries of our king and queen. And this girl… was a witch. We know it. How!?” The registry from that day is displayed, Hanna’s name right there on the page (next to Josleen’s, put there in protest). “The -King-!” Dramatic pointing. “Ordered that those responsible for this atrocity be arrested. We don’t know if this witch did this, but we do know that Eirik was following an order from The King of Larket and this witch raised her hands up. To cast a spell? How can we know what she was about to do? This man is guilty of protecting the -king-! And the queen. And all of Larket from the people that are trying to tear the city down.” He goes on for a bit longer, wondering how anyone could be expected to decide good witch (if there is such a thing) from bad when the goal of the witches that day was to cause fear, and confusion, and bloodshed. Their plan backfired, he concludes.

Meri wanted a cigarette. Was she allowed to do that in here? Blue eyes begin to traverse the room in search of at least one other individual who may be smoking. As long as there was just one other doing it, that definitely meant it was okay. She would not be in luck, no one else was brazen enough to be the first smoker in the room and Meri would not chance embarrassing Sabrina by being the first to do so. There is but a smile for Sabrina when the Elfess explains in hushed tones that she has not done anything stupid, but Meri could sense that, yes, that was something that could indeed change at any moment. Could Meri hold that against Sabrina? No. There were points were Meri rolls her eyes, as of course the prosecutor is dramatizing the story (so Meri thinks), but gestures aside Meri keeps her thoughts to herself. The blonde, like Sabrina, is not amongst those who gasp when they see that picture of poor brutalized Hanna. Red lips twist into a sneer when she hears that elderly woman shouting to hang Eirik and her grip upon Sabrina's shoulder definitely steeled the second she felt the Elfess' muscles even twitch to motion. Picking a fight in the middle of Eirik's trial runs the risk of only making things worse. Oline's presence definitely did not go unnoticed, this just was not the sort of event where you went up and said hi to everyone that you knew. The giant and the artist would have future opportunities to catch up, but if Oline happens to look her way she will at least be acknowledged with a nod. Her attention would not stray for long, between trying to keep the nervous wreck that is Sabrina at bay and listening to the trial, Meri's attention was pretty well consumed. The argument presented by the defense is far less annoying to Meri. I wonder why. Biased much? #freeEirik.

Oline could relate, to an extent, to the Queen's dilemma. She was not in an envious position. There were, very clearly, individuals hell-bent upon deposing her and her husband. Those individuals had caused a great deal of damage, a great deal of violence, and no shortage of unrest amongst those who would otherwise have been content only to sit and grumble. Their disruptions were slowing down the restoration of the city, and Oline took that very personally. While they maneuvered themselves into posittions of petty authority, would-be tyrants and gangsters masquerading as champions of justice, Oline was living in squalor with everyone else. She'd moved into a small flat in a tenament not far from those left utterly condemned by the quake. She spent her days helping wherever her strength was able to put roofs over the heads of those poor displaced souls living out of tents and makeshift shacks. She spent her nights brawling, raising morale in the only way she knew how among people desperate for an outlet for their frustrations. She had lost all sympathy for the revolutionaries, the first day they'd branded her a 'dog of the nobles'... but... those folks had not been witches. No doubt the Jubilee had been sacked by witchcraft... but a couple of witches thrown in with the lot of the revolutionaries no further equated the movement with witchcraft than her association with Larket somehow indicated the city's allegience to the giants. It wasn't a logical leap she was prepared to make. Some were, however... and she did not envy Josleen and Macon for being forced to try to make that call. As she listened to the prosecutor make his case she found herself making another sympathetic connection. Not to the victim... she'd already made that connection there at the fair grounds that night as she watched her brutally cut down. She'd felt the weight of the anger seething in that crowd. A berserker herself, she'd nearly succumb to it... she'd taken off a man's hand just for laying it upon her.. and fortunately somehow evaded sitting up there on the bench beside Eirik. No, now her empathy was with Eirik. Something more than just his berserk rage had driven that riot. Had she not fled when she did, it was entirely possible this would be an entirely different trial... and there may well have been far more than one poor witch-girl slain. Oline allowed herself to exhale, Valkr only knew how long she'd been holding her breath. If this thing went wrong... every bond of loyalty in her body would be put to the test. Larket was her home. She was very fond of it, and she quite liked her Queen. Eirik was a member of her Guild... and a warrior who had more than earned her respect on the battlefield. Sabrina's attachment to him was no secret to her... and even with what few encounters she'd had with the woman she'd found her to be quite respectable as well. Could she abide by the laws of Larket if they demanded Eirik hang for his crime? Could she look at herself in the mirror? Could she believe that such a verdict would not create an irreparable divide between herself and her fellow guild-members... most of whom shared their loyalties between the guild and Frostmaw. Oline knew, too, that the uneasy peace between her home and the land of the Frost Giants was an uneasy one. She was set to find herself in the service of the Larketian military before long. So many variables... her chest felt tight just trying to make sense of it all. She was holding her breath again. Why did that keep happening? Exhale...

Josleen | The prosecutor objects to the defense’s suggestion that Hanna -may- have been connected to the those who protested the monarchs (“terrible, despicable, spineless protestors!”, the prosecutor is sure to malign them). There is no evidence suggesting Hanna, a responsible witch who dutifully registered on the list when asked by her King, was in any way connected to the protest. What more, Hanna is not on trial here, Eirik is. This isn’t about Hanna’s guilt, this is about Eirik’s murder of a young woman. The trial bounces back and forth in this way, with the defense attorney for Eirik insisting that the protestors who incited the riot and put the King and Queen in a dangerous position forced Eirik’s hand (a bit of a stretch given the brutality of the murder), and thus they are responsible for creating the violence that killed Hanna. The defense puts Eirik on the bench. Prior to this trial, he had coached Eirik not to bring up the fact he sometimes goes berserk or is a lycan. The attorney urged Eirik to explain his motives, keep it pro-Larket, and pro-Macon, and never smile, and if you can collapse into your palms with regret, go for it, slugger. Eirik is asked to recount the events of that day from his attorney. Then it’s the prosecution’s turn. He asks a seris of questions that follows this thread: “Is it not true that you came to the Crown with suspicions of an evil witch coven in Venturil?” “Is it not true that you found a dead body in a local resident’s home and led investigators to believe the murderer must be a witch?” “Why?” “How do you feel about the role of witches in society?” “Eirik, you’re under oath, are you prejudice against witches?”

Aarika and company's entrance was quite though their presence spoke volumes. Aarika lead with Lenny and Henry on her heels. Her golden hair was twisted and braided back into a feminine mohawk, it kept her view clear, important for any warrior. Her armor was light and made out of a strong leather body suit with an intricate breast plate the bottom half a sort of mini-"skirt" same sturdy leather strips falling to her mid-thigh; she had a katana at her hip. For once her expression was stern as her hand propped on the hilt, that was second nature for her plus it muted any metallic rattle. Lenny's was tall and lean, his dark hair was cut short revealing the patches of scalp that was unable grow from scarring, he also sported a sword, much thicker and heavier the his matriarch's. His brown muddy eyes studied every inch of the courtroom from the benches to the podium, Macon and Josleen. His gaze was one of a man with nothing to lose, cold and bitter. Henry stood beside Lenny the boyish charm smothered out by the severity of the situation. Eirik was his target of interest, his mossy gaze fixed on the Lycan. If Eirik noticed their presence he would receive a deep nod. They would not sit or speak, just observe from the back of the courtroom, showing their support for their brother. The Steel Collective was more than a clan, they were a family.

Eirik continued his silence further still. His defender knew all of the details, and there is no need to butt-in. Beyond rude it was informal to speak without being asked to by his lawyer, the prosecutor or the King himself. Instead he finds himself focusing on the evidence presented and the manner in which it is given. She was a witch. At being called to the stand he remembered the words of his lawyer, and sought to stick to them wherever possible. Eirik recounts his story as how he arrived with Sabrina, a healer of renown in the area. They gave the queen their congratulations for her birthday celebration and moved off to enjoy some of the local food. Here is where Eirik had two meals as the Councilwoman decided meat was not in her best interest. Then the riot happened. The flaming cart, and how he sought permission to go in to aid the king. Her being in such a position Eirik had no intent on ruining her good name. The gods awful depictions of king and queen now on fire as well. When the King had ordered the witch apprehended he did indeed react to end a threat which he had perceived. “It is true that I came to them with the details of suspicious action of witches in Venturil. After having helped a Larketian citizen in the middle of the street screaming for help. There was a body found inside his home. We reported the crime immediately. The Venturil on goings were brought up because of similarities. It could be the same group, it could be something else entirely. The house the body was found in had a badly burned body. No sign of forced entry. No sign of fire within the home. The burns so bad that only their gender could be identified. It’s much the same in Venturil where witches are responsible.” He thinks for but a moment on how to best answer the question. “I think that witches should feel free to sign up as has been asked by the King of Larket. To show they mean no harm. The only real issue I have is with those who mean to do harm.” As he had experienced in his past. Witches who meant no harm would be ignored entirely.

Sabrina is calmed by the strong defense presented, all facts that could be supported by actions on both sides. She seeks out the eyes of the Queen in thanks, she is by far no less aggressive but she knows Josleen had a hand in picking this team to represent the accused. It is a favor, like so many exchanged between the two in their long history that reinforces the Elfess’ loyalty to some degree. A bare hand is lain atop Meri’s, it was not an absentminded gesture. The feed of emotions conveying from the Ardent to the artist was one of concern, fear, betrayal, and so many others- thousands of things fitted to a drop of a needle all mixed in an odd sort of control. Most believed her kind to be incapable of emotions but the truth was, she arguably felt deeper with more complexities than the average free-thinker. Each sensation had to be conscious, scrutinized, categorized, stored, and processed- it was a science. It would not be overwhelming though, some low-dose insight that might give Meri the upper hand if Sabrina’s whirlwind began to overflow once more. She exhaled at the same time as the giantess, at least she wasn’t the one so torn on the beam of what should happen next. The problem with this dilemma, faced by many here, was that they had all the details prior to the trial. What -should- happen next and what -will- happen next would be based purely on emotion reaction. There was no solid logic to feed this series, it would be chaos coming from either side. She took a moment to reflect on the King’s position in all this. He was a smart man, surely he let her lover rot for those days while trying to come up with a plan that didn’t end in civil war. The DA’s final questions caused the hairs on the back of the Healer’s neck to stand up. Eirik did well under pressure, right? Of course, there was a diplomatic way to answer this question. She is whispering to herself unconsciously. “shut up, shut up, shut up…” could she just scream out something? The prosecution is leading the defendant? His prejudice is irrelevant? His prejudice is well grounded? “Shhh.” She closes her eyes and takes herself back to something more serene, like, the not answering of whether his liking of witches even matters given the hard-evidence at hand. It wasn’t working. All she could see is the scene from the party, the series of events as the unfolded before her. The veils of witchery that blinded so many sections of her memory from view. Who was that girl in the red cloak, why is this trial being orchestrated to cover her escape? Surely this is the issue, not the murder of that woman who tried to cast a death-spell on the berserker in a time of extreme rage. Her attention is all over the place of late, trading one focus for another as it is now draw behind her to the parade of noises just at her back. There are some Larketian guards that line the path just behind them. “Weapons.” It was the only word given and it wasn’t too silent either since that trio seemed present for action and not support. Sabrina’s brows furrow, was this going to end badly due to a violent intrusion of this ‘family’ that she, herself, had never addressed? “They don’t pass the stands.” She speaks to the Guards. Taking a warrior’s weapon is asking for a commotion that Eirik could not afford, and so long as they at least pretended to accept their place ‘outside’ of the room that housed the King, Queen, and all of Larket’s finest, this minor infraction may go unnoticed. Eirik’s response was only half taken in, attention could only be spread so thin and right now it was her job to make sure Eirik got the right attention that he needed. Not this, family or not, this wasn’t helping.

Macon tries to catch the eye of the prosecutor to glare at him, but can't. The guy seemingly refuses to look the King’s way. It is likely only Josleen hears the low growl that remains contained in The Rage Knight's throat, due to her proximity to him. To be honest, what happened is not really on trial here. Everyone in Larket knows exactly what happened, because a huge part of the city saw it first hand. The trial is appropriately short and moves into deliberations. The jury of lawyers and dignitaries is sequestered and shortly after they are, Macon stands, giving the queen's hand a squeeze, from his spot in the royal booth and exits the same way the jury has. Some time passes, the courtroom buzzes in anticipation, and The Fury Knight returns to his seat after about a 20 minute disappearance. The jury emerges a short time after and appears to have made ‘their’ decision. The lead juror, or the foreman, whatever you want to call him, reads off a piece of paper, not appearing to be 100% pleased with the content. They find Eirik guilty (duh) of killing Hanna. The foreman is fine with reading that part. The quirky Larketian legal system moves right on into sentencing, which is also read off of the paper held by the foreman. There is no additional jail time included in this sentence. Instead, as the king and queen have been keen to do in the recent past, Eirik is ‘-permanently- exiled’ from Larket. That emphasis is probably not on the paper. Stick to the script, foreman. Larket will not just send this ‘criminal’ back to Venturil or wherever to unleash him on another city where this ‘terrible incident’ can repeat itself. He must first attend courses at Larket’s Academy of Magic, educating him on witchcraft and its users. There are other minor things such as payments to Hanna’s family that are less interesting, but do exist. Of course there is outrage from part of the gallery who believes that the sentencing is a joke. Others solemnly and silently read the message being sent loud and clear. Macon is settled into his seat, back straight, acting like he had nothing to do with this.

Meri cannot identify why she is feeling rushed with emotions that were not entirely her own. She was of course concerned for Eirik, she was scared for him, but these feelings were much more intensified and many of them were not her own to begin with. A frown weights at her lips and a side-ways glance down at the elfess but the artist was not overwhelmed into shock by Sabrina's flood of emotions. Meri could not help but look at the latest set of arrivals, sneaking into the trial just a bit late. It's not that they were particularly loud, they had admittedly made every effort to be silent and respectful but they still went noticed -- as did that deep nod to Eirik. Red lips are pursed together in thought as blue eyes scrutinize Aarika, as it seemed like this woman too was here in a show of support for Eirik. It's right at this point that Meri's attention becomes really torn. There was Eirik's testimony and Meri was trying to listen to that. Sabrina seemed to be having a bit if a mental break down right in front of the artist. What was she shhing?! And now a bit of a situation with the newest arrivals in terms of the Larketian guards wanting to confiscate their weapons. Seeing that sitaution smoothed over was not Meri's top concern, it looked like the verdict was to be read shortly. Here Meri was under the impression that sitting through courts and trials was supposed to be a boring affair but this one seems to be wrought with tension and minor dramas. When verdict is read and punishment is announced, Meri's first reaction is to jerk her gaze to Sabrina to see what the healer's reaction to this would be.

Oline winced at those questions from the prosecutor. They were cold, calculated, and set up to make a hatchet-job of Eirik with ease. One slip of the tongue and he'd implicate himself as some kind of witch-hunting psychopath! She... she suddenly found herself wondering whether or not he was. Did it matter? Did his hatred of witches have more to do with him murdering that poor girl than... whatever godsforsaken aura had been infuriating the crowd? Would he have killed her regardless, just on suspicion? Round gray eyes slipped from Eirik to the woman over her shoulder... Sabrina... who likely knew him best. She didn't seem to care much one way or ther other. Why should she? Someone dear to her was on trial for murder! Oline supposed... hoped even... that her own loved ones might feel as strongly were she ever to face judgment for her crimes. Valkr's mercy, there went the screaming voices in her head again... agonized wailing... blood-curdling shrieks of horror cut short. Oline wanted to drink. Could she do that here? No... probably not. She hadn't brought anything with her anyway. The giantess clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, focusing upon breathing normally. Her hands were shaking. Was it the noise? Was it the guilt? Was it fear? Yes... it was all of those things and then some. At least Eirik's answers offered her troubled mind some relief. He didn't sound like a psychotic murderer. He sounded like a dutiful warrior who overreacted in a terrible situation. Maybe... they wouldn't throw the book at him. She almost let herself believe that, except of course it left the question wide open: "how little was the life of a young woman worth?" Anything less than the worst they could throw at him would enrage her family... enrage the witches... further foment the growing spirit of rebellion. The giantess' knotted stomach lurched with every passing thought. She didn't see a good way out. Another glance back at Meri and Sabrina only made the nausea worse. All her reasoning in the world wouldn't matter, in the end. What would matter, she decided, was King Macon. The rules were clear. The King overruled everything. No matter what the judge said... no matter what the jury said... King Macon's rule was the final say... and the King of Larket had to consider what would happen if he let a murderer off easy. A tingle of cold dread slithered its way up the giantess' spine. What if this did end up turning into an all-out civil war? How many lives could be lost... how many saved by sacrificing one man to the angry mob? She didn't want to believe the people she'd once defended from that mob as 'rightful rulers of the land' would do such a thing... and yet more than a small part of her mind recognized it as being one of the smarter plays on the table. Appearances were everything, after all. "... Sodditall," Oline grumbled under her breath, though being a giant meant it would likely be clearly audible to everyone. The giantess winced as her stomach twisted yet again... cramping tightly. The stress of this was enough to give a girl an ulcer. Was that... sweat percolating upon her skin? Was she... actually sweating? Oline couldn't remember the last time she'd broken a sweat outside of combat. As the trial moved into the deliberation phase, all she could do was sit there idly staring at Eirik gnawing on her lip. What was taking them so long? How... long had it been? Only a couple minutes?! Sod! Finally, after what felt like years, the jury returned and gave the only logical verdict there was to give. Eirik was guilty of murder. Shocking, truly. What did come as a surprise, at least to Oline, was the sentencing... exile? Payments? The giantess wasn't -unhappy- to hear that Eirik wouldn't have his head put on a pike someplace as a warning, but... that gnawing pit in her stomach turned stone cold now. That wouldn't satisfy anyone close to the girl. It wouldn't be justice to the witches. It wouldn't quell the unrest. Oline exhaled the last held breath she'd take, but was a shuddering one. The words left her lips without her even realizing they'd done so, echoing those she'd thought as she watched the riot itself unfolding at the Queen's Jubilee. "Thess... en't gunna end well. Nawt. At. Awll..."

Josleen did want to help Sabrina secure the best defense for Eirik, but she was not up against an unwilling King. Sabrina has no way of knowing this, but the King himself appointed the attorney before Josleen had even worked her magic. The King growls, and Josleen caresses the back of his hand with her thumb to soothe him. When he leaves to join the deliberations, breaking all decorum and not giving a crap like only a King can, she encourages him with a smile. When he returns, she is as clueless as Eirik as to what the jury will say for the King had not settled on a decision before the trial. She exhales with relief when it’s clear Eirik will walk, and his exile has no teeth--Larket isn’t even his real home! He leaves nothing behind, save Sabrina, who is free to come and go as she chooses. It took Josleen the length of the trial to introspect and understand her position. Yes, Hanna died, likely innocent (but who knows), and that is a tragedy, but they are under extraordinary circumstances wherein witches have the means and will to cause earthquakes that level cities and kill hundreds. If the allies of the Larketian Crown at times misstep in their defense of it, then the defense tactics must be tweaked, but the defenders themselves not discouraged. The Queen will do what she can to ensure there is no second Hanna, but she isn’t sure she supports an outcome that discourages a second Eirik. The Queen’s gaze falls to Oline, who is exactly the type of young, promising Larketian she would hate to dissuade from acting against witches. Her gaze then drifts to Hanna’s family which has broken down into wails and sobs and has become disconsolate. She cannot bare to look at them for long and instead takes in a better sight, her King. She smiles at him privately and just barely nods, just for him to see that she agrees, approves, is with him.

Eirik is completely unaware of what is happening in the courtroom. Of Sabrinas near panic, of Olines quiet thoughts. Of how Meri’s presence continues to calm the Healer. His soul focus is the court, the questions he is being asked. To remain calm and answer what was asked of him to the best of his abilities despite the courtroom drama. When the verdict returns, he is unsurprised by the guilty portion of his sentence. She didn’t do anything wrong, something else had influenced the situation which couldn’t be explained. Eirik had no clue what would be given as punishment, and though he would like to say worry does not smear across his features, it does. He had killed an innocent. However, he is to be exiled from a place that is not even his home. How was that punishment? Train at the academy of magic and pay a fine? He is in disbelief of the situation, but says nothing further. Accepting the entirety of it. Head moves to his defending attorney and back to the king and queen, giving a bow - showing he had every intention to follow what little punishment had come his way.

Sabrina was not exactly patient during those twenty minutes that felt like several hours. The courtroom remained silent for the most part, everyone had days to say what they needed to. On the lower decks of the ‘witchy’ side there is a minor altercation that is silenced almost immediately by guards escorting the unrulys out of the courtroom. At least that was a distraction to pass all that time. When the council and the King finally do return she is practically on her toes with anticipation. The room is stuck in a freeze-frame as they all await the verdict in a silence so profound one could hear a pin drop, or a pen, over there- someone needs to hold on to their things. There is a couple coughs and a sneeze before the foreman reluctantly gives his version of the verdict. Exiled? With studies within the walls? She turns to Meri. Did she hear that right? She is speechless. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t death. She feels like she can finally breathe again and she is less than calm when a few tears stream down her cheeks. She is panting like she just ran a marathon and her body was being retrained on this practice of utilizing air.

Macon sends a weak smile and nod back to his wife, his mind very clearly elsewhere at the moment. He, unlike all but a few in this courtroom, - knows- that his infection from The Rage Stone is the true cause of this murder. This murder of -a Larketian- by a foreigner. All Larketian tragedy weigh heavy on this king, and this is no exception. It is true he had not decided what the verdict and sentence should be before the trial, but he has witnessed first hand Eirik acting for the good of The Hard City, and knows that many Witches have not been. This is what led him to force the decision the jury came to, but he still doesn't feel 100% happy about it, even though he believes this to be the best course of action. He hopes, at least, that this means that he has secured an ally of Larket, while only alienating those that do not have the kingdom’s best interests in mind. When Eirik looks his way, Macon offers a knowing nod. The royals will make their way out before things in the gallery get too out of hand… don't want anything thrown at them, Kingsguard.

Meri, for once today, is actually glad to see tears as in Sabrina's case they were not tears of sorrow but a sign that she was relieved with the turn out. At this point, Meri sees no point in lingering the room. Sure she could maybe try and say something to EIrik, spark up conversation with Oline, etc etc but it just did not really seem the time or the place. Everything still had a somber feel to it, perhaps not amongst those rooting for Eirik's life but there was definitely no rejoicing coming from those mourning for Hanna. As she is not really the sort to go out of her way to hug people, for a final time tonight a hand would come to rest on Sabrina's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You likely have many things to take care of, and probably want to try and speak with Eirik if they will let you. I will be on my way but I will see you soon. Send word." Both the King and the Queen would be given ample space to make their exits before Meri decides to follow suit, not without a nod to Oline and to Eirik.

Oline slowly rose to her feet and began the long walk towards Sabrina and Meri. She paid little heed to those who were escorted, or the wailing sobs of the victim's family denied justice. She felt awful for them. They'd lost a daughter... a beautiful young woman Oline recalled, suddenly, having met once just in passing. Still, she was relieved. That tragic death wouldn't be answered with another in kind. For now, that was all she needed to hear. When finally she reached her destination, only Sabrina remained. She gave the woman a smile and a nod, glancing over at Eirik with wide steel-gray eyes as she spoke. "Ah'm... glahd tha' went th'way it did. Juss... wannid t'say tha'. Ah wuz pullin' foh him." Her piece said, the half-naked huskarl plodded her way through the crowd headed out the door. Bodies cleared out of her way as she walked, bear-pelt loincloth fluttering in her wake. The Larketian Giantess had a fight to be getting to. Morale in the city would be low enough... wouldn't do to make it worse by denying the people their bloodsport.}