RP:Yuletide Trebuchet

Part of the Rise of Larket Arc

Summary: Macon invites Josleen on another totally awesome military-related masculine date! The Larketian army has upgraded their siege weapon technology and is putting on a grand show! There's a target shaped like a dragon who Macon assures Josleen is -totally- not representative of any dragon in particular. Right.

Macon presents to Josleen a yule gift, a legendary mandolin from a Larkatian bard of near-mythic historical significance. This gift came from the concert hall's museum, whose curator after weeping for days has suddenly and passionately become a revolutionary demanding democracy. Josleen also weeps, happy tears in her case.

Fort Freedom

Several days have past since the selection of the new Kingsguard members to flesh out Macon’s desire to have eighteen men and women on rotation in order to alleviate the maddening effect proximity to him appears to have now. The King of Larket and The Thane of Frostmaw have continued their routine of dining together and ‘added’ to their common agenda as most if not all of the fort staff is now aware. Gossip and rumors swirl, but don't appear to have made it very far outside the borders of The Hard City just yet. The bard has been allowed to come and go from Fort Freedom as she pleases, a member or two of the Kingsguard accompanying her much more for her protection from an anti-Kelovath populace than to deter any escape attempts she might make. Leaving Larket is as simple as saying she wants to… Despite the added distraction Josleen provides, Macon has kept the kingdom running like a well oiled machine and on the King’s docket today is some time set aside to check on some of the the fruits of that machine's labor. Improvements to the military’s siege weaponry have been made, particularly anti-air defenses, and will be demonstrated this afternoon. The guest of the King has of course been extended an invitation to accompany him to this display of Larketian technological might. The Fury Knight, armored as he often is for public appearances such as this, waits, with the marble crown of Larket atop his head and the empty Rage Axe at his back, near the exit from the fort interior into the inner ward.

Days quickly get dull for Josleen, who has little to do as they wait for word that Kelovath has been arrested. Every time someone knocks her door she panics briefly, thinking ‘this is it’. But the news never comes, and she quickly realizes her idle mind is as torturous as the ‘fact’ of Kelovath’s betrayal. To keep herself busy, she works at the clinic. Though a woman of luxury and fine taste, she cannot idle for long. But even the clinic is slow and she cannot fill all the hours of the day. This ample free time means she has plenty to spare for two things: meeting Macon whenever and wherever he pleases, and brooding over her predicament--both of the heart and politics. Though she’s often despondent, she tries to hide this from Macon and the staff, but nonetheless her mood seeps out through the fault lines in her smile, the cracks in her composure. But she never vents, not to the nurses or king. Instead, at dinner she tells Macon about the clinic, her eccentric patients, and stories from her past. She asks Macon about his day, his past, too, and kingly duties, but never brings up Kelovath’s impending arrest. She rarely leaves the fort, and when she does it’s to shop for essentials (albeit of luxury brand and eye cream counts as essential). She also posted a letter and package the day before yule, about which she informed Macon in advance. It’s a letter and gift for her parents (“They’ll worry if they don’t hear from me,” she said). Carefully words and lies pad the letter to keep them off the scent. ‘We miss you.’ ‘Will visit soon.’ ‘Cenril is lovely.’ ‘Skylei and Kelovath send their love.’ The day she sent the yule greetings to her parents was emotionally her roughest, which Macon could discern by the enthusiasm with which she meets him after dark (or during the day). There exists a positive correlation between her emotional distress and her eagerness to lose herself in him, and discover a new side of him to appreciate (figurative as well as literal). The day of the demonstration she arrives a little late, having been delayed in the clinic by a sick child (maid’s kid) who puked on her, and thus necessitating a bath. Judging by the look of her, no one would suspect that just an hour ago she wore a child's sick. She's fresh faced and donning yet another sumptuous wintry dress that hugs her torso, though this one isn't floral but like a bonbon or a gift to unwrap--festive for the yule season! The Thane steps up beside Macon from behind and shares a private, cheeky smile with just him first. The illusion that their affair remains a secret is part of the fun. “Aren't you afraid I'll give away your secrets to all your enemies?” She looks out over the small crowd, sees a few familiar faces and waves to them individually.

At their dinners and at all other times, Macon too avoids the subject of the golden paladin. Though his reasoning behind this is more to circumvent his own annoyance rather than her pain. Keeping himself from becoming annoyed is a noble endeavor however, as the maddening effect he has leached from the Rage Stone is significantly more pronounced while he is upset and the staff is very clearly affected by it at such times. Josleen on the other hand appears to be somehow developing the same immunity to the effect that the death knight himself has built up to the actual stone. Once or twice during her recounting of her clinical tales Macon stops her and insists ‘Wait. I know tha’ guy.’ His familiarity with the Larketian populace is impressive, stemming from his multiple years as a councilman. He brushes aside her queries on day to day kingly duties, which he considers mundane, but does reveal the fact that the Larketian Council has been all but disbanded when he says that there are no more council meetings. Sabrina is the only remaining member that he has any faith in. The rest are useless at best and traitors at worst. His words. The Rage Knight’s past comes out in drips here and there. A story from that war, how he arrested this criminal, nothing one wouldn't expect from a former sheriff and soldier. Perhaps out of place in their usual conversations about their days, he probes her on her knowledge of famous Larketian musicians of which there were and are at least a few, he is certain. Also, as if reminded by Josleen’s letter and gift to her parents, Macon secretly does the same for his mother. This needs to travel much further than from Larket to Xalious, but The Rage King uses the resources at his disposal to ensure it reaches Veratoak in time (magic). // When The Thane finally arrives on the day of the demonstration Macon reciprocates her smile with a smirk of his own and, while doing that thing where he points at specific people in the crowd to light up their day, answers her smugly, “Yes. This is not meant t’be a secret however. This is a deterrent the world should know about.” The King and foreign Thane are positioned so that they can look out over a field with various siege weaponry on one end, and stationary targets, for example a wooden cutout of a dragon, on the other.

Josleen grins at Macon's response, glancing at him sidelong as if to say 'you rascal'. Her attention shifts back over the field and that's when she notices the dragon cut out. The grin squashes into a flat, humorless expression. "I hope that doesn't represent any dragon in particular."

Macon is perhaps happy to see that whoever set up those targets didn't paint that dragon silver. ‘It's just going to get blown up anyway.’ They probably said at the prospect of carrying metallic paint across the field. In his own silver platemail, the king simply narrows grey eyes slightly and shakes his head in response, as if he is condemning anyone who might insinuate that cut out specifically represents the Queen of Frostmaw. There are other targets as well, which for the most part are just piles of rocks. Why focus on that one dragon shaped one? The former sheriff gives the signal for the demonstration to begin when ready and before long it does just that. The weapons are preloaded and aimed so as to not waste valuable kingly time on the initial volley. The line of catapults is fired in a rolling wave, one right after the other so that some projectiles are still in the air when the next weapon is set loose. It is a steady fireworks display on the opposite end of the field. Temporary stone structures are blown apart by catapult projectiles, and a ballista bolt blasts a wing off of that wood dragon. Very few of the siege weapons miss their mark, most notably a trebuchet tosses a boulder well left of any target and the thing goes tumbling past over the cold ground of the field. Reloading is an important part of this demonstration as speed is key in a real battle, but Macon isn't paying much attention to the process for whatever reason.

Macon is lying. Josleen knows it, he knows it, but she appreciates the lie nonetheless. She takes a sharp breath to steel herself against this slight against her Queen, of which she can do little about. At least the King isn't gloating and the King and Thane have a plan to ensure this demonstration is never put to practice against live Frostmawian targets. She won't applaud, however, though she does watch intermittently when her attention isn't stolen by the handsome King. The catapults remind her of her ex husband, whom she hasn't thought about in a long time, and can finally think about without feeling remorse. Also, while watching rocks pummel rocks and half-inebriated soldiers clap each other on the back and chant "SWING LOW! SWING HIGH! STAB A GIANT IN THE EYE!", she realizes these sort of 'dates' with Macon have a very masculine, militant bent with no regard for what a lady may enjoy best. These thoughts lead her to ask, "Have you ever been married?"

It should be clear, by now at least, that Josleen is invited to events such as this as something for the king to look at (and forward to) when whatever being presented to him (catapults in this case) fails to hold his attention, and her parade of ‘thought provoking’ outfits has yet to disappoint in this regard. Larket is a kingdom preparing for a war that it is, in reality, already fighting, and so The King’s responsibilities take him to scenes such as these much more often than they do to anything better suited to The Thane’s or any other lady’s tastes. In that regard, it is the war with Frostmaw’s fault that the bard is asking Macon this question about his marital history. A servant from the fort is approaching the pair of hopeful peacemakers carrying a package when Josleen asks that question and The Fury Knight is quick to wave him away while repeating part of what she asked, “Married?” He shakes his head back and forth three times, before responding, “Never.” just that slightest bit of hesitation isn't enough to mark his answer as a lie, but maybe he has been engaged or something at one point? “Why d’you ask?” His grey stare fixes on her and in the same breath he quickly adds to his question, focusing it, “Have you?” They are just about ready down there in the field to fire another round...

Josleen immediately regrets the question, not because she doesn't want to know about Macon's marital history, but because the table will quickly turn on her. "Curious. It makes no difference," she replies to his first question as her gaze drifts towards the suddenly fascinating catapulting demonstration. She even forgets herself and applauds as rocks crash into more rocks! It's soooo interesting--and loud!--in fact, that Josleen must not have heard his follow up question. (And who could predict it? No one. Not Josleen.) The courier provides another out: "Oh if it's important, don't mind me."

Macon had the answer to his question the moment Josleen pretends to not hear it. Just the answer, not the details. The crashing of siege projectiles covers that low growl rising from the back of his throat. Slate eyes leave The Thane briefly to look out over the field and the new damage done. He doesn't remember enough of what the first volley did to assess exactly how much damage this latest round of fire managed to do. Maybe he would have pressed now that the noise has died down and reloading is beginning again, (‘how long is this demonstration supposed to go?’ One might wonder.) but the second out, the courier, accomplishes what the bard obviously hopes he would, and The King waves him over. “You were away from home (code for ‘my prisoner’) for Yule.” Macon says to gain her attention back from those interesting catapults. That parcel is presented to Josleen and held out so that she can open it while the servant still holds it. Inside is a violin, an old one, older than the person it is being gifted to easily, and possibly older than the one gifting it too. The King idly explains that the previous owner was quite famous. Surely if Josleen learned anything at that fancy school of hers, she is familiar with the greatest musician Larket has ever produced. This particular instrument had been on display at the concert hall until just a few days ago. It is no time-bending mandolin, which the Thane and Rage Knight are both convinced exists, but it is surely something unique that only The King of Larket has the privilege to give away.

Macon's gift takes Josleen completely by surprise. Charmed and disarmed, she smiles at him and places a hand over his armored forearm briefly as if to say 'Oh you shouldn't have.' When she opens the gift, her jaw goes slack and eyes widen a little. The custom hand-painting and the unusual width of the bow (iconic of the Larketian bard's) reveal the violin's secrets to any bard worth their salt. "Oh my good Sven..." she gasps as she gingerly takes the violin out from the box. "Is this the original?" Of course it is. She meets Macon's gray gaze incredulously. The actress drops her usual act and is naked in her wonder and humility at holding such a precious artifact. "Oh it's too much..." She says as she nestles it against her shoulder and arm to see how it feels, fully intending to keep 'too much'. She slides the bow across the strings to produce a low note then shivers with delight, positively beaming. Somewhere in Larket a museum curator weeps like a babe, and later will travel to the library to check out a book on the virtues of democracy. (Maybe burn those, Macon.) Josleen sets the violin back in its case and rests the whole gift on a chair and turns her attention to Macon. There's a heat on her cheeks, in her gaze, and in her loins. "Let's get out of here..." she whispers suggestively. She bites her own lip to keep herself from kissing him, but she stands closer to him than she ever has before in public. When the servants aren't looking, she slides a hand along the back of Macon's neck, nails gently raking through his hair. "I hate armor," she laughs. It's become a popular refrain of hers whenever he's in armor.

The King’s gift appears to have the intended effect, even more so than expected when about three days ago he said to some Fort gopher or another ‘What about that violin in the concert hall? Go get that.’ except in his accent. Macon’s head slowly and pointlessly nods in the affirmative as to whether or not it is the original. She would probably know better than him after all. When Josleen encroaches on him the Fury Knight is distracted by a loud combination of noises when something snaps on one of the trebuchets and the massive counterweight comes crashing down, laying waste to the structure and narrowly missing crushing one of the operators. The King of Larket does not fail to hear her demand to leave and her complaint against armor however, his back straightening when her fingers find his neck. After the near disaster in the field, Macon informs whoever will listen, perhaps the courier, “Tha’ will be enough,” cutting the demonstration a bit short. Likely the King and Thane, of Larket and Frostmaw respectively, usher each other back inside the fort with less regard for the crowd than they had when they emerged. Once inside and away from prying ears, well on their way to the King’s chambers he reminds the bard that she hadn't gotten him a gift, and describes in detail how she can make up for such a slight.

Josleen is much more reckless in the hall than she has been in the past, and all Macon had to do was give her a priceless instrument that was once the jewel of an entire wing of a concert hall. Kissing him under risk of discovery is part of the fun too, as is his semi-public racy talk which Josleen returns in kind, and perhaps even escalates (who knew a violin could do so much). Needless to say this behavior will be reenacted for comedic affect in the staff mess halls. After Josleen has made good on her promises, they lie spent in his bed in each other's arms. It's a part of their routine which she's come to enjoy, even if they always part to sleep in separate beds sometime after. She startles suddenly and quietly with nothing more than a gasp, as she's done many times before whenever her mind wanders to Kelovath, but this time it isn't the golden paladin that worries her. She doesn't pull away from Macon, and instead of staring at nothing in the far distance, she turns her chocolate eyes to him. Worry creases her brow and her lips part as if to say something, but she thinks better of it. Instead she peppers his shoulder with a string of staccato kisses like a blessing, like praying on beads. 'Gods help him. Gods protect him.'

Macon makes a note privately to himself at some point in all of this to find more priceless violins. The King of Larket’s mind has not yet wandered to war, as it often does when given enough free time, when Josleen stirs, and so maybe he catches that twinge of worry and the apprehension to speak. It certainly seems like he does, because when she starts blessing him he is quick to ask, “Wha’ is it?” with a small hint of genuine curiosity.

Josleen shakes her head at her worries as if denying them prevents them from coming true. "I thought of Queen Hildegarde. I hope I am able to convince her of the truth before she... I worry about what she may do to you... She's very protective of me, and... I'm being silly. Nothing will happen... but." She recalls how Hildegarde invaded a heavily guarded fort and killed Trajek without asking any questions first, Trajek who in the end saved Josleen from execution. Though she never regretted Trajek's death (he was no innocent or hero), the memory of Hildegarde's ferocity and how that may be applied against Macon sends a shiver down Josleen's spine. She settles down against him and hugs him close. Macon is also no innocent, but she's growing fond of him and his growl.

Macon dips his head slightly to look at Josleen somewhat questioningly. Normally this is where he suspects her mind is struggling with betraying the Paladin, but her answer here is sincere and the change is noted thoughtfully. It is not lost on him that this is the first time, other than reflexively saving his face from a flying bust of Daedria, that she has shown any concerns for his well being. It was only a few weeks ago that she ran, leaving him to contend with multiple mad Kingsguard (thank you, Maureen). Even more recently she was threatening him with the very same dragon she now fears the wrath of. His arm curls around her back and pulls her closer if such a thing is possible while he reassures the bard, “She will listen t’you,” his tone low and gritty as he again emphasizes her influence in this conflict of two kingdoms, “Nothing will happen.” He repeats Josleen’s words, perhaps in an attempt to convince himself that they are true.

When Macon pulls her in close and whispers reassurances, he sends a thrill coursing through her body and crowning her head. That brief lapse of bliss is usurped by anxiety that Josleen does not recognize, nor does she understand its source. But deep in her subconscious there is an understanding about this anxiety's genesis, and to find it one need only follow back in time a long, unbroken chain of disappointments: Kelovath, and Ansel before him, and Ezekiel before him, and Eliason before him, and Victor before him, and Cinn before him, and, before them all, the younger Gibson boy behind the schoolyard shed. It's no chain of steel or iron, but a paper maché chain made from the pages of romance novels, strengthened by all the messages little princesses absorb as they bloom. Those messages also whispered to her after each disappointment to smile, don't crack, keep going, there's a frog who's a prince, just be good enough. Now she's a thane, war veteran, griever of dead friends and family, keeper of secrets, plotter of wars, spiller of blood, and to top it all off, spectacular fool suckered in by the last would-be-prince. It isn't Macon's fault that Josleen sits up suddenly, body tense, and quick to lie to explain away her anxiety. "I told Dr. Julius I'd help him with something. I'm late!" She did tell the doctor she'd teach him something new, but they never set a time. She leans over to leave the king with a peck devoid of feeling. Her faucet runs dry as her heart hardens and chokes her ability to love.

The current King of Larket can spot a lie, at least one as obvious as this ‘meeting with the doctor.’ His path to the crown is built on falsehood after falsehood, each he has justified with ‘for the good of Larket.’ The only one he could not internally reconcile, the murder of his closest colleague (friend?), he has confessed to, and so none of these lies particularly weigh on his conscience, just as this little white one Josleen tells now likely does not weigh on her. They are a means to an end, and The Thane’s end, The Rage Knight believes, is to run. He has seen her do it several times before at least figuratively, clamming up in this same scenario when her mind wanders to the Arkhen Paladin who betrayed her, or that she is betraying. Now though, she is literally running. Either it is that fact or perhaps the complete 180 she takes from showing concern for him that frustrates the king enough to not want to allow her to run from her anxiety this time. Whatever the reason, when she leans in for that weak kiss The Master of The Mad Fermin takes hold of the bards wrist and pulls her back when she makes her attempt to flee, giving the singular command, “Stay.”

Macon for the second time in as many minutes sends a thrill through Josleen. His command and attention excites her. But this time her thrill is nervous. She stays and doesn't resist his grip. Her gaze searches his expression for meaning, to discover the sentiment behind his command. 'What do you want from me?' her expression asks of him. Though she seems to have an idea and acts on it, stroking his hair and caressing his cheek as she gazes at him tenderly. She leans in again to kiss him, this time sweeter and tentative like an experiment. 'Is this what you want?' Her heart is thrumming like a bird's.

Josleen receives answers in the affirmative to her silent questions when Macon draws her in, having successfully stopped her escape and postponed Julius’s lesson, which is real, but unscheduled, sure. Time has been fuzzy throughout this day and through the siege weaponry demonstration, but with the light of the golden hour fading from the room while the king and thane become re-entangled it becomes clear that the pair will be late for one of those dinners they have scheduled. A shame too, as a guest is set to join them for this particular one. The head of The Mage Academy will just have to wait...