Ris ushered Wulf onward, and only after she were gone did she think that Wulf couldn’t possibly be her actual first name. What sort of a mother named her child wolf? But perhaps it was fitting... She was unaware of Cedany watching, and believed herself alone for a moment at least, alone where none would find her, alone on the stairs with no one to see the tears that welled up in her eyes. “Oh, Ris, you stupid girl.” She whispered, tipping her chin up towards the ceiling, gazing up at the beams for a moment. What was she doing? What was she thinking? She wanted both of them, she needed both of them, she needed the comfort and softness that was Lucas and she needed the fire that was Wulf. They made her feel alive, in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She could never be satisfied...

She scrubbed at her eyes, feeling her age--or lack thereof--in that moment. Seventeen, and terrified of loving too many people. She thought back upon her father’s words. Her affections were rarely fleeting. She loved, and she loved, and she loved. She was a black hole of a girl, white hair and a heart that would never be full. She was a fool... She was struck with the horrifying thought that she was too much like her father. He too had had many women... But had he loved all of them at once? Had he ever thought of keeping them all? Was she, somehow, even more selfish than he...

She choked on her next breath, and then the tears overflowed. She sobbed softly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Slowly, she sunk down onto the stairs. “You can’t have them both.” She whispered to herself, trying to see sense, finding some comfort in the sound of her own voice. It was the one thing that she knew for certain was hers. “You can’t, Ris.” She tipped her head back, and her head thunked gently against the wall. “For all the love in the damned world, what does anything mean if you can’t keep them?” She whispered to the wood. It held no answer for her, and she felt as if her heart was being rent in twain.

She would tell them. She would tell them both, and then if she lost them both... Well, her father could go fuck himself for all that she cared. She would go, if they could not all reconcile. Even she knew that she could not stay there if she were shamed in such a way. And she would have... her memories, at least. Lucas’ drawing. No one could take that from her. She took a deep breath, and squeezed her eyes shut. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” She whispered, at last, and it was the absolute truth, but hearing it aloud was once more a comfort. “Lady Loria, pure as the driven snow.” She whispered, her accent soft and her voice a little lost. “At least that’s still true.” She exhaled slowly, and then drew her hand over her eyes. Perhaps she was going insane, she thought ruefully. Maybe that was a better alternative to this mess.

She heard a slight shift in a door, and she sniffled softly, scrubbing at her eyes and trying to pull herself together before someone saw her crying and mourning over something that they could know nothing about. “Who’s there?” She called out, her voice gentle as she spoke to someone that was not herself at last. Had they heard any of her whispers? She knew that she could pass them off as her having been exhausted, the violence of the last two days affecting her. But she hoped it would be someone that she could talk to, that would understand.

Capheus briefly considered apologizing for startling him, but decided against it once he saw that grin spread across his brother’s face. He returned it, and ss he flopped down in a nearby chair, he scoffed playfully at his words. “Now, brother, just because I’m terrible at the balancing thing doesn’t mean I’m entirely incompetent.” He teased, giving him a playfully amused look and reaching over to tap his brother’s shoulder. He hummed at his next words, and raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Do go on.”

To be entirely honest, as much as he loved his big brother, there were exactly three things that could get him worried. State of the kingdom, state of his family, and the lovely redhead that had stolen his heart. Capheus had to admit that he approved entirely of Ellie, and he hoped that they had had a good time together, regardless of how brief the time had been. He could not bring himself to regret not being there the night before, though. His Asten’s arms were where he truly belonged. In any case, though, as his brother spoke of “not knowing what specifically had him down,” Capheus mentally set his wager on family, mostly because all of them were there and present and alive right then. And as it turned out, he was right.

He reached over to set a hand on his brother’s head when his expression turned despondent, ruffling those golden locks of his. He shifted a little to cross one knee over the other, methodically and very seriously starting to mess up his hair. “What is with us Auclairs and getting ourselves into romantic messes?” He murmured, though it was affectionate. Cy, stuck in a strange marriage. Cora, raising a child on her own. And he himself, in a relationship that was forbidden all around.

He listened intently to his brother’s next words, sympathy crossing his expression. “Eventually, big brother, you will have to choose.” He murmured at last, his voice gentle. “And you’ll have your whole family supporting whatever decision you make. In the end, you must choose what you makes you happy, and to hell with the rest.” A crooked smile came to his lips, and he tipped his head back against the seat. “Kingdoms rise and fall.” He murmured. “Life goes on. Besides, the only reason I didn’t see it was because I was busy laying in my own personal dust cloud.” He chuckled, and then rolled his eyes in a gesture that took most of his body with it. He shifted a little, and then stood to steal the seat that was now free as his brother sat up again.

“I’m not that young, sire.” Capheus teased gently, and tugged his brother into a hug. “I’m here for you to talk to.” He spoke softly and earnestly both, his voice gentle as he pressed his lips to the crown of his head. “Always, big brother. And things will work out. I promise.” He hugged him a little tighter, and then ruffled his hair affectionately. “On a slightly brighter topic, I hope, did you and Ellie have a good conversation?” He asked with a little smile.

Loras was beginning to think that he had a type--large, hairy, brutish, and warm. When he was younger, all blonde hair and big blue eyes, there had been a man who had come to his doorstep that fit every one of those categories. Of course, he’d followed him around like a duckling would its mother until he left. Perhaps he had not recognized it as such then, and it was not to say that women were not beautiful to him as well. It seemed to be merely a preference. However, he had never thought that this would be a recurring thing.

And yet, there he was, wishing that he could memorize the callouses on Ulfric Bjornson’s hand. The king of Ostwall, Loras, he thought ruefully. He sure knew how to pick them. And yet... There might still be hope. He was a little shaken by his speaking with his father. He always had known that he was the lesser liked child, the one seen as less crafty and more easily used. But he had never once begrudged Ris’ place. It seemed that they were both pulling away from their father’s desires, though, and mentally, for a moment, he prayed for luck to the both of them. He couldn’t get Christoph’s words from his mind, though. Men change their mind, and their affections are fleeting. He knew that was not true of himself--it was one of the things that he and his little sister shared. They loved with their whole being, consistent and true. But... could it be true of Ulfric?

No, he told himself. He would not let himself doubt this man, this man with beautiful eyes and a weathered face and a smile that made his heart feel as if it had been warmed for eternity. A soft strain of music filled the air, and he was taken from his thoughts as he leaned against a wall, glancing towards Ulfric’s daughter, who was playing on a lute. A soft little smile touched his lips. Ris had gone by then, and he mentally wished her safety and contentment. Then, Ulfric’s voice reached his ears, and he let his eyes shut for a moment as he merely... listened. If he could not have the man, he could memorize what he could about him. His intonation, the sound of his laugh...

Then, he heard a chair gently scrape against the stone floor, and he opened his eyes once more just in time to see Ulfric rise. His brow furrowed in slight confusion for a moment. Where was he going? Ulfric started out, and Loras had to force himself not to instantly follow. But then... Then, those jade eyes met his own, and he received that message loud and clear. He waited a little longer, before allowing himself to finally go after him. He went up the stone stairs, up to where the people of Ostwall were living in that moment. He hesitated for a moment, hoping that he was doing this right, that he hadn’t merely terrified the man by holding his hand. But he had wanted him to come, Loras encouraged himself. He was going to be alright. All of this would be alright.

“Ulfric?” He called gently, his voice pitched so as to not reverberate off the walls. He hoped that no one would come up and interrupt them. Please, let no one come up and interrupt them. He knocked on the door, once, twice, three times. Then, he returned his hands to his sides for a moment, soon knotting them together in front of him. He could be patient, he told himself. He was good at being patient.

Probably.

Perhaps that was the real question of the hour. What in the world was Ris doing, talking to herself in the stairwell? And why, out of all the times where she could have chosen to be this helpless and vulnerable, did it have to be right then? This was the worst possible time, surrounded by other kingdoms, engulfed and suffocated in tradition that had lasted a thousand years and would last a thousand more. What was one seventeen year old, in that scheme of things? But she knew she shouldn't be thinking like that. She knew that there was more to her life than moping about this sort of thing. But she also knew that she had to allow herself time to hurt, or else things would simply be worse in the future.

She would survive. She would be alright. She had to be. They would talk about this, she had a plan, and things would work out. They always did, eventually. And if all else failed, she knew that both Cora and Loras would support her. She had friends. She wasn’t alone, and that was a source of great comfort to her. To be alone would be an awfully great adventure... But it was also one that she hoped that she would not have to experience anytime in the near future. If she could just figure all of this out, reconcile all of these feelings... But she could. She had to be able to, and that gave her heart a little steel once more.

She straightened from her seat, taking a shaky breath in and rubbing at her cheeks in hopes of erasing any remaining tear tracks that would betray her, though she knew that there would likely be more forthcoming. She took great solace in the fact that she was not usually a great crier. “Cedany,” She greeted when the other girl stepped out, and she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. Perhaps... perhaps this was the exact person she needed to speak to. Had the Gods blessed her in such a way? She knew the girl’s penchant for secrets...

A soft chuckle bubbled up at the princess’ words, and she nodded a little. “It’s almost more stifling inside than it is outside.” She murmured, and shook her head. She missed Falor terribly, in that moment. “I heard a little of your lute playing. It was beautiful.” That is, before she was swept off into the conversations that had just turned her life entirely upside-down. She hesitated, and bit her bottom lip, knotting her hands together. How was she supposed to ask this? She spoke her name once more, soft and a little careful, not wanting to wipe that smile off of the other girl’s face. She didn’t want to make her life harder, she knew it was likely already difficult with a new mother and being away from home.

“Cedany,” She began, after allowing herself one more moment of trying to figure out what exactly she should do. “I...” She exhaled, a little frustrated with herself and her own inability to actually get words out. “Secrets are your forte, right?” She asked softly, at last. “I need someone to speak to, who I can trust, and I don’t believe I can trust many people around this place.” But the two of them were nearer in age than most others, and perhaps they could understand each other. She desperately hoped that this wouldn’t backfire onto them both.

Ris smiled a little at her words, and dipped her head down a little in acknowledgement. “I’m sure they were around.” She murmured. “Siblings are hard to avoid.” She teased gently. “Loras, my older brother... Goodness, I followed him around as if I were caught in his orbit when we were younger.” She would be ever grateful for her older brother, he was one of the most caring people in the world. He deserved the world, goodness. Seeing him so fraught the night before had been almost harrowing, and she was simply grateful to have been able to be there for him.

“Besides, people are silly.” She went on after a moment, reaching up to brush a lock of white-blonde hair from her eyes. “They don’t know good music when they hear it.” She added airily, almost playfully. For a moment, she could almost pretend that all was alright, that she was alright, that her heart was alright... But goodness, it wasn’t, and it was almost enough to tear her in two. In that moment, a story came unbidden to her mind, of one of the great kings that had the gift of wisdom. Two women had come before him, saying that a child was theirs, and he had decided that to cut the baby in two and give half to each of the women would be the best choice. Of course, the real mother had begged to save the child’s life, but... Goodness, she hoped that no one would cut her in two anytime soon.

She hesitated visibly at Cedany’s own pause. Her hands knotted together, her knuckles turning white as she did so. What was she going to say? Was she going to have to carry this weight on her own? She waited with almost baited breath, trying to allow herself to take in oxygen. It felt as if her hope was a sea inside of her chest, crashing against her heart, drowning her lungs and turning her eyes almost watery. She blinked, and attempted to draw any sort of tears back into her eyes. Not now, not then, she told herself. She’d done enough crying for that moment.

At last, Cedany spoke. She had heard of such people, those who traded in secrets. She was almost proud of this girl, for having picked up such things at such an age. Perhaps they were a little similar, at least. Ris often felt as if she were aged beyond her years. When had she had the chance to be a child? She wondered if Cedany felt the same, and wished to get to know her better. However, she was struck with a sudden conundrum as soon as she finished speaking. What did she have to offer? Money, money... But everyone had money those days, and what use did women such as they have for chunks of metal that society attributed worth to?

“I am soon to be Queen of Falor.” She spoke softly, after a moment. Perhaps this would work, for she was not to be some maid who sat by and looked nice. A tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. “And if this is a terrible deal, stop me before I finish.” She teased gently. “But politically, I can offer an alliance with Ostwall. I know that there are many tribes who have not yet rallied to your father, and perhaps an outside influence would show that he truly does have power.” She bit her bottom lip, then. “For you, individually, I would offer an unnamed favor. So long as it doesn’t involve death, or permanently abandoning my loved ones or my kingdom, of course, but that’s surely a given.” She seemed more like a queen in that moment, her hair catching the dim light that shone into the hall and her chin raised the tiniest bit. “Perhaps I am a little desperate for a confidant.” She murmured, half to herself, and she looked towards one of the candles on the wall. However, this was a secret that would need to be kept, even after she spoke to both Lucas and Wulf. “But would those terms meet your needs?” Then, that smile returned, and amusement flickered in her eyes as she returned her gaze to Cedany.

“And please. Call me Ris.”