As Written by Nemo and Knosis
The man slowly slumped down on the stool, hand running over his tired eyes. The night Esther had played her cruel joke, she had come in late. Most likely hoping he had given up and fallen asleep before she showed up in order to avoid scolding. She had been wrong of course, but Ruairi had not scolded the child. Not verbally, at any rate. It was the one benefit of having his father's eyes. But ever since, Esther had been a tad aloof, and Ruairi watched her like a hawk.
The night prior, after he ensured Esther was in for the evening, he found an uneasy rest himself. Nightmares plagued him, and although he had the mind enough to realize they were simply visions in his sleep, it still left him unsettled. Giving up on finding rest, he had ventured into the tavern once the sun was up and he heard the workers start up for the day.
He was handed a bit of bread and cheese with some honey, and a mug of ale to wash it down. He paid for it and chewed on the rough crust as he mused over what needed to be done for the day.
Adrian had thought long and hard on how he would approach Ruairi in his ride to Herba Montis, the manner in which he would initiate the extraction. The nature of this assignment was so different from anything he'd encountered before. There was no strict 'foe' here - no bounty he was pursuing, no misbegotten pack of outlaws in need of the King's justice. He was, in some bizzare corruption of the old cliche, a knight sent to rescue a princess ... a princess who, it would seem, had willingly allowed herself to be captured by none other than one of the most respected warriors in the land. Ruari was the dragon guarding the damsel. Arkos was hardly sure if a grown wyrm could be any more deadly than the king's bastard son...
He'd thought out a dozen plans. Disguises he could wear. Ruses and lies. He considered trying to sneak past Ruairi to get to the princess directly. If he could somehow incapacitate the warrior. Reason with him...
Each plan was dismissed long before he set foot in Herba Montis. Adrian was a Solarian: hand of the law, defender of the Celestial Court and the First Charter. Lies, facades, manipulation - these were the weapons of a rogue or a coward, not a knight. He would approach the conflict with honesty and courage and would triumph or fail by the strength of his will.
He walked into the tavern in his cuir bouilli, cloak wrapped around his shoulders, sword at his hip. His head was bare and the sandy blonde locks twirled above fierce blue eyes deadset on the mass of muscle eating at a nearby table. The height, age, beard, and the striking silver-grey eyes. There could be no mistaking who it was. The knight approached slow and careful, halting some ten feet from the warrior.
"Ruairi Martel," his voice was low, quiet enough to avoid eavesdropping but firm enough to carry the distance between them, "son of the High King Victor Martel. Veteran of the Battle of Tornost, Stavoren, Hockley and Lyria, Guardian of the Royal Family." His brows furrowed. "Your deeds are many. Few know your name."
As the door opened, the elder man had not paid the newcomer any mind. It was morning, and perhaps he was not the only one who had a sleepless night. But the slow and steady footfall that came directly towards him quickly changed that assumption. He merely continued eating as the man approached, studying the knight without looking at him.
He placed the bread down as his name was called, and his many titles to go with it. He hated being reminded of all the conquests he had been part of in the wars long gone. He wiped his lips, knocked a few bits of crumbs from his beard before turning slightly to gaze with cold steel hues at the knight in question.
He was from his father's court, that was evident enough. And he could guess the reasons why he was here, although his father had never sent a knight after the pair in the past. He grunted slightly, and leaned back in his chair. This knight was young. Younger than most in his father's court, and doubtful he had actually seen the wars he had mentioned, much less been born for it. Though, his father wouldn't have sent him if he wasn't capable.
After a long pause between Adrian's words, Ruairi finally spoke. "Aye. A very few. Less so who can put a face to the name." He said, looking relaxed. Inside, he was already plotting. Esther was still asleep in her room most likely. The elder man was still in between the knight and Esther, and if need be, he could make the dash to grab her and escape.
"You've come a long way from home. Must surely be important, so I'll spare you the frivolity of introduction." He waived his hand on the way to grab the ale. "What is it?"
"I've come to return the both of you home," the knight stated, "yourself and the princess are to accompany me back to Solstice and hold audience with your father."
Adrian kept careful watch on Ruairi's every motion - the positioning of his hands, any tension in his shoulders that would suggest movement. He wasn't about to underestimate the warrior, not with his reputation. A small voice in the back of his head reminded the knight that he had the king's explicit permission to subdue Ruairi by force, if need be ... or, at the end of all recourse ... kill him.
He buried the thought. This was the son of a king, an ally of the realm. Surely there would be no need for violence.
"I trust her highness is safe and well?" He looked up at the stairs leading up to the rooms. It was early yet. Probably still asleep in her room.
Ruairi had figured as much, but still raised a brow in mock shock. "We've both to return home? That's unusual. Has something happened to warrent our retrieval? And with word of a knight at that. Something must surely be serious."
The man shrugged slightly. "Oh, aye. She's safe. Though, unless there is a need to leave immediately, I wouldn't wake her. She's a bit of a grouch in the morning." He kept his hand on his mug of ale, looking the knight up and down. "Relax, you look as though you're about to be attacked by an angry warger." He gestured to the seat beside him. "We'd only been gone for a short while, at least explain whats happening."
"Your father, the High King, requests your return," Adrian replied cooly, "I am not sure that he needs a reason, sir."
The knight eyed the chair. He remembered King Martel's words with his wife. Cunning as a fox. If this was a ploy, he didn't want to play into Ruairi's hand, but if it was a genuine gesture, he want to appear too confrontational...
"Thank you, but I would prefer to stand," he kept his hand on his belt beneath his cloak, but did his best to relax his stiffened posture. "Perhaps it would be best if we both wait here until the princess comes down." Adrian would prefer to leave as soon as possible, but there wasn't so much urgency that Esther couldn't get a full night's sleep.
Ruairi grunted slightly. "He has his reasons, I suppose." Ruairi muttered, taking a swallow from the worn mug. Ruairi was beginning to suspect that the orders were more towards bringing Esther home at least. Even if the knight had tried to relax his posture, it was evident he had little trust for the old warrior. His father had warned him of his son at least.
It only confirmed a bit more when the young knight declined his offer. "Hm. Very well. I suppose its a long ride home." He quietly continued to eat his breakfast in front of Adrian. "Still, I would suspect that you'll draw more attention to our situation than you already have, standing as you are. Esther may take some time to wake on her own. Just my own thoughts.." He said between mouthfuls of bread. "Not like you're not a bloody beacon of someone of import is here anyway.." He grumbled a bit quieter.
He paused and watched Ruairi eat. The knight glanced over his shoulder at the inkeeper behind the bar who was already giving him a suspicious look.
Adrian bit the inside of his lip. He took the chair opposite Ruairi - not the one next to him, as was offered - spacing himself a bit from the woodtop.
'Long ride home'. Ruairi was putting up a pretense of cooperation at the very least. The knight sat still and silent across the warrior, still waiting, still watching for any sudden movement or surprises. He considered how the man might fling the table up at his face, and kept one boot on the furniture's support, just in case...
"Better." The old man admitted. "We'll at least pass as friends." He smiled a warm smile at the knight before waving down the barmaid. "My friend here would like to have some food as well." He said as she came into earshot. He passed her the coin and she scuttled off swiftly before the knight could protest.
She returned a short bit later with a similar food setup as Ruairi. The old man thanked the woman and she went back to her tasks. "Esther wanted some time away from the castle, said the weather was right and the halls were a bit too dusty for her. So I figured it would be no harm to take her out for a while. She's occasionally left the castle under my supervision for as long as she's let go of her mother's dress." He chuckled softly. "Those books she stuffs her nose in has her head filled with adventures.."
Adrian looked down at the food on the table. He didn't even acknowledge the ale, but picked up a long slender knife and lathered a slice of bread with some honey.
"Your royal father will be relieved to hear it," the knight replied, "I believe the queen suspected that Esther may have been trying to escape an undesirable arrangement." He lifted the bread to his mouth. "That this is just a... vacation... of sorts will doubtless ease their worries."
He took a bite, still watching Ruari. The knife twirled deftly between his fingers, giving an illusion of calm. If the warrior was watching closely, he would see the blade pass between his thumb and index finger with each pass - ready to be thrown at a moment's notice.
Ruairi was watching, as he always did, but instead went back to focusing on his breakfast. He didn't need to keep constant eye contact with the wet-behind-the-ears pup to know that he still didn't trust him. He had to let him get into that sense of ease himself.
The older man scoffed at the accusation. "Although it isn't my duty to keep in the know about the activities of the royal family, I would think the king would have issued orders to prevent such a happening with his daughter in a critical time. Knowing the Princess's habit of wandering off, I would have not have taken her request for her outing if I had known she had duties to uphold."
Ruairi bit into the cheese he had sliced off and chewed it thoughtfully. "My duty is to my King and his family. My loyalty has always been to my father."
Adrian nodded. He seemed truthful enough, and his track record certainly left no room to doubt where Ruairi's loyalties lay. He was a war hero: a seasoned soldier and veteran of countless campaigns. He'd spilled blood for his country. His family.
"I do not question your loyalty, sir," Adrian replied. But your father does. Questions something about you, at least. The knight sincerely hoped that his king had the wrong idea about Ruairi. Every indication suggested that Ruari was a patriot. Friendly. Trustworthy.
"I'm confident this is an accident. A mishap of circumstance and poor timing." He thumbed another piece of bread into his mouth. He watched Ruairi's eyes.
The king does not trust him, he reminded himself, and I serve the king.
