Post #2494205 in The City of Chains, a roleplay on RPG

It was with the certainty of a man decided that he tread up the steps of the Viscount’s Keep. The path was a rather long one—he wondered if it had originally been made so from a desire to provide a little time for the ascender to think, to plan, to reconsider. More likely, the idea had been to leave a grand impression, and throw the less-health-conscious nobles for a bit of a loop when they at last arrived a bit out of breath. Perhaps he was thinking too much like an Orlesian again. There was a chance it had no real purpose at all other than getting a visitor from the bottom to the top, but nevertheless, he used it to collect his thoughts. It was not every day one was invited to see the Viscount about one’s charter.

It was also not every day that one came with a request in mind quite like his, but he was choosing not to think overmuch about that right now. Some things could make even Lucien nervous, and when they did, they made him acutely nervous at that.

He waited patiently in line until such time as the Seneschal informed him that the Viscount was able to see him, at which point he filed politely into the office, crossing an arm diagonally over his chest and bowing in the court fashion before straightening back to his full height and smiling slightly. “Your Excellency,” he greeted. Though perhaps he was allowed a little less formality than that, he was here on business, after all. “How are you keeping?”

The two men did not often meet, and their last major meeting had been one that had resulted in a somewhat embarrassing situation for the Viscount at a very public event. Even still, Marlowe Dumar seemed happy to see the man, and he set his quill aside in an inkpot, smiling slightly. "Fairly well, all things considered," he answered. "It has actually been a rather quiet week. No Lowtown explosions, no large scale Coterie incursions, just the good old complaints from noble houses left and right, and the ever bickering Meredith and Orsino." The lack of the Coterie operation was undoubtedly due to the recent disruption in their ranks. "It gives a man some time to rest, and collect his thoughts."

Despite his words, his desk was littered with missives and requests, incoming letters and as yet unfinished outgoing ones. The Viscount wore heavy bags under his eyes, his features steadily being overtaken by age and stress. He looked older than his nearly sixty years. Still, he looked to be in relatively good spirits regardless. "I'm happy to see that your recent predicament has been sorted out. Quite unsurprised to learn of your innocence, I might add." He was of course no stranger to the types of games nobility might try to play on one another to discredit a name or further a political goal.

He waved a hand dismissively, certain Lucien would not want to linger on the subject. "To business, then. Your fledgling company has been progressing well, as I understand."

The half-smile Lucien had worn at the Viscount’s dry humor faded slightly as the conversation turned to business matters, and he inclined his head slightly in reply. The signs of strain were there to see—perhaps his news would be a very small aid to dealing with it. Though admittedly what he did now was more suited to the explosions and the large-scale incursions than the politics of it. In another time, perhaps, but not now. “It does,” he said, something caught between relief and resolve in his tone. “The barracks and outbuildings are finished, the first round of hires made, and most everything ready for training to begin.” He’d chosen people with talent, of course, but more than anything, he’d been looking for the ones with the right moral fiber, and so there was naturally some catching up he needed to do with them so that they’d be ready to take on the kind of assignments they were likely to garner in this particular city.

“I am, in fact, presently only in need of a charter before we can begin in earnest—I’ve brought the application and supporting documentation with me.” He produced a folded sheaf of parchments, mostly standard forms filled in with elegant, if spare, handwriting, as well as a few letters from members of the citizenry supporting the application, a few written, and a few dictated, in the event that the recommenders were unable to write. Such things were not precisely required, but the Seneschal had informed him that they certainly couldn’t hurt, and so he’d imposed upon a few acquaintances and friends for the missives.

“Of course, I’d understand if it needs to wait a while longer yet for your consideration. I just thought it best to present it in person.” Also something not required, but recommended. Though he didn’t necessarily think his seriousness would be doubted here, considering the work he’d put into it, he very much wanted everything about this to be as aboveboard as it could possibly be—and he wouldn’t deny that he hoped that some of his work would come out of the Keep itself, and it couldn’t hurt to make that known this way.

"At this point," the Viscount said, looking over the forms, "waiting is not my idea of time well spent. If you believe you are ready to begin, then by all means, you have my permission to begin. This city has sore need of someone with the skill and experience of a Chevalier, as you have already proven many times over." They would be a step up from the other mercenary companies in the city as well, that was for sure. A group of able bodied individuals willing to serve the common good would go a long way to relieving some of the stress piled onto the city guard's shoulders.

He pulled the quill from the inkpot once more, signing where necessary to give Lucien official permission to begin his work. "Should you require anything from the Keep to get started, you need only ask. Kirkwall needs more like you and those you'll hire, and I'd have it seen that men and women of that caliber are rewarded, not left to flounder."

Lucien half-smiled, entirely unable to argue with logic like that. In truth, he’d rather be started as soon as possible as well. He’d been working to set this up for what seemed a very long time now, almost a year from the initial idea, perhaps. To see it begin to bear fruit would be quite something, he thought. “I’ve already taken care of basic armament, but I may have to send a few up to the Keep to have their armor properly adjusted for fit. There’s a pair of farmer’s boys with their uncle’s old gear—I’d like them to be able to keep it if it means something to them, but it really does need some work.”

He took the paperwork back, then, and tucked it beneath his elbow, only to pause as if in slight hesitation. The nervousness came back to him full-force just then, and he found his mouth unusually dry, and swallowing somewhat difficult. Still, he was no coward, and went ahead as far as he was able. “Your Excellency, if you have a moment more, there is… an unrelated request I would make.”

The look on the Viscount's face was just slightly amused, as though he already had a good idea of what Lucien was about to ask. "And that is?"

Lucien sighed, resigning himself to the fact that there was just no way he was going to be able to maintain all of his dignity and make the request at the same time. If so, he was willing to give up his dignity for the moment. He wouldn’t be surprised if his intentions were easy to guess; he was not a particularly mysterious man, really, nor all that complicated, when it came right down to it. “I was, ah…” he cleared his throat a bit, conscious of the fact that he was coloring ever-so-slightly. Most people got this sort of thing over with rather early in their youths, but Lucien had never felt the need to make the request of a father before, and so this marked his first attempt at it. “I was rather hoping I might have your permission to court Sophia, should she prove amenable to the suggestion herself.”

If he were being honest with himself, and he did try to be, the necessary feelings had been present for some time, though when exactly that had developed was not a question he could answer with any precision. The problem had been and would probably always be his own difficulty in seeing himself as good enough to act upon them. Lucien was a decent-enough sort of person, and he was aware of that. But he rather felt she deserved a great one, and he was not that. Perhaps she would have him anyway.

Indeed, Viscount Dumar did not seem surprised by the request. Instead, he sighed lightly, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. "There are perhaps a dozen noble houses in the city with sons that would have made excellent matches for Sophia, had she been amenable to them. She never has been, though, for whatever reason, and either because she is too strong a daughter, or I am too weak a father, or perhaps both, I have not been able to convince her to reconsider. She follows her heart with an iron will. I thank the Maker every day that she was blessed with a kind one." It was quite obvious that Dumar thought quite highly of Lucien as a person. It was also quite obvious that who he was as a person was not the only matter to take into consideration.

"I wish I could grant a man my blessing based on his character alone, but you know as well as I that a ruler must take other factors into account when considering his family's future. How fares your standing in Orlais? You left on rather unfortunate terms, as I understand it. Has the matter been resolved?" The last thing the Viscount wanted, of course, was to give permission for his daughter to be paired with someone who was seen as a potential threat to another Orlesian who would rule.

The question didn’t surprise him, and though his answer was not rehearsed, it was a fair amount smoother than the request proper. “If my father is to be believed, and on such matters he usually is, my standing improves. I’ve been at the very least acquitted of the charge of treason, which is the one that prompted my exile. On the matter of the assault… only time will tell for certain, but I suspect the retrial in my absence will see me absolved of that guilt also.” He paused for a moment, the continued in a more muted fashion. “My friends tell me that I’d stand a better chance of that if I were there to defend myself, but this hardly seems the appropriate time to leave Kirkwall. Perhaps, in time, I will return for a while, but… certainly not now.”

He sighed slightly, shaking his head. “I will always have enemies, Your Excellency. That is an unfortunate part of occupying the position I do. Some of these enemies will have power. But… I think that perhaps you understand that even better than I do. I cannot promise her constant safety. But anyone in a world like this who did would be lying through his teeth.” At the very least, he could promise not to do that.

Viscount Dumar was quite plainly glad to hear it. "It will be enough, then. And if anyone can ward off dangers that might arise, it would certainly be you two." He took a deep breath, then nodded. "You have my blessing, then. Some part of me has always wanted Sophia to choose her husband, not me, and I do believe she settled on you long before I ever did. She never looked at the prospect of courtship with much anticipation, even as a younger girl, not until you came along. Ever since I saw you with her at her birthday I knew. She's never been like that, you know, so absorbed by someone." He smiled, mostly to himself, remembering.

Then he stood, coming around the side of the desk to come within arm's reach of Lucien. "She has the highest of standards, I think, but I'm quite confident she believes you exceed them. I happen to wholly agree." He extended his hand to the chevalier, smiling warmly.

Lucien took it, seeming to relax considerably. “I thank you for that. It is no small reassurance to be held in the esteem of good people.”

Snippet #2494205

located in Kirkwall, a part of The City of Chains, one of the many universes on RPG.

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