Wards and Warrens
Twenty Fourth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC
As you had expected Lord Ashford invites you all to the keep that evening, curious about the knight who had won the joust and melee both and you suspect a bit more than curious about Rina after her show of magic. Though that is not so say everyone approves of his fascination. As the sun begins to dip in the sky you catch sight of a lady wrapped in a dark grey cloak, a worried expression on her face drawing the lord away from mirth and merriment to a hushed conversation. To your hearing her words are clear even over melody of your own lute.
Lady Adara Ashford does not approve of her son mingling with the fey as much as he does and she
particularly does not appreciate the crown of flowers still on Rina's brow. You gather the reason is half piety and half politics. In her own words Owen aught not risk 'a half-dozen horned bastards', but there is a bit of interesting news there also. The fey had apparently offered to help protect Ashford from otherworldly foes, and not only by pledging knights and hosts in times of need.
"Isn't it enough that I have to live half in
their world, now you have to invite them
and the vagrants that trail after them to a feast in their honor like they are..."
"Nobles mother?" Lord Ashford's tone, which had been faintly weary but tolerant before, cools sharply. "Or are you about to deny they are even people? The fey are here to stay, you know, and more to the point the Court of Stars is actually being helpful as well as courteous in our hour of need, unlike other awakening powers for which men, highborn and low alike, are at best amusements, at worst food."
"Just don't marry the damn chit," the lady grumbles, but you are already paying less attention to the conversation and more to the keep itself. You already knew there are brownies serving House Ashford, but it is a long way from playing host to hearth spirits and being drawn into the realm of the faerie.
"My lord, If I might have a moment of your time in private..." Time for Buttercup the bard to take a step back. This is a dance you have played many a time before.
***
"I must admit, Your Grace, you are... not what I was expecting," Lord Ashford confesses once you had said your part, glamours unraveled under the candlelight. "Lord Tarly painted a rather more grim picture of you and your realm, great of course, but hardly filled with good cheer."
"Would you have tried to persuade Lord Randyll Tarly with good cheer, my lord?" Dany asks with an impish smile.
The young lord laughs granting the point with a nod. "Nay, even the brightest of the Orange or the most dazzling of Violet would fail to shine light upon his dour countenance."
"Speaking of the light of fey eyes, my lord, I would hear more of their deeds and plans for the Reach, though without questions or answers known to those of the Gold as soon as they are spoken," you interject. "You know that there are enchantments that can ward one's mind from those who would peer within it and one's fate from a scrying mirror's eye?"
"Yes," Lord Ashford replies, more gravely. You do not think he suspects the fey, but he can obviously understand why you who have no pacts with them do not wish to conduct negotiations in their sight.
Rina takes out a ring as you had planned. "This was taken from an enemy, forged in a dark place and likely with a price none of us here would pay, but its enchantment is secure from all but the cursed emperor far to the east whom no fey of the Court of Stars would lightly converse with."
"Given the cost of such protections I understand the thrift," the lord nods after a moment, taking it up. It is good that you had warned him for a talisman under his tunic suddenly flares with the green ward-light of the guardian court. Once he had donned the circle of flowing shadow he continues "I can well guess what you would ask of me, Your Grace, for it is what which I have already spoke to Lord Tarly of and though I might have hesitated having only his account and travelers' tales to guide myself by, I do not do so now. Any man who would hold the unwavering fealty of such as knight as Ser Lonmouth is a worthy king to swear my banner to."
You nod solemnly and even Ser Richard seems moved at least a little despite himself, though it is clear as day that colder calculation had also gone into the decision.
"There is an air of fey power here like a song at the edge of hearing, my lord," Rina speaks into the silence that follows. "If you can tell us how this was done and what price was paid...." She trails off worried, though trying not to show it.
"As I am Lord of Ashford, acknowledged by high and low, so might by fey magic this truth be turned to wards against any who would subvert me or taint the land, ramparts of sorcery to match those of stone," he explains. "It is more difficult for dark things to make themselves at home in my land, fiends, monsters and Deep Ones from their stagnant halls."
"More difficult how?" you ask intrigued. Fey magic is not lightly imitated with mortal enchantment, but that does not mean it is impossible as Lya's ward-crafting proved.
"They stand out more, make mistakes they otherwise would not, the good sense of the smallfolk and the courage of armsmen driving them out with steel and blood. I have seen it work just as the fey promised time and again and I am well content," the young lord replies with conviction.
"And the price?" Dany questions a moment before you can do the same.
"The fey are more at home here, not just in the keep but all Ashford lands, their magic brighter and their craft more enduring. More of my people have taken on house spirits and the sprite-kin drink from bowls of milk left by the porch." Pausing a moment he adds. "I had been worried about what the Faith would say of the arrangement in the fullness of time, but the Conclave laid my fears to rest."
What do you reply?
[] Ask what other lords made this pact
[] Delicately point out that the fey might not have the best way forward in mind for their ways and customs are not those of mortal men
[] Write in
OOC: Edits done