LordDraupaudWeepsIndex | HomePage | GameLogs | ClearwaterGameLogs | Lord Draupaud Weeps As Derron headed off with Lord Draupaud, he stopped and muttered to Niko, "Threaten to withhold her training. Give her something to think about." With that he headed after the Lord with all haste. When they reached the castle, Lord Draupaud said to Derron, "Where is she?" Derron replied, "Still in her rooms. The Septon is with her." He paused, then said, "What would you have me do for now, Milord?" For a moment Lord Draupaud was silent, and then he turned his head a little jerkily and looked at Derron. "Will you ... come with me?" For the first time since Derron had known him, the stiff formalirty was set aside, and Derron had a glimpse of someone who might hyave been their Lord - a man not afraid to display his feelings as well as his strength. "Of course, Milord." He gestured for the man to take the lead. He might be acting with feeling, but Derron would not presume to walk beside the man unless directed. Lord Draupaud, however, gestured him to walk beside him. He seemed to want to talk - although it took a little time for the words to start. "I could have loved her," he said at last. "It was a political marriage. A reward for my service to the King - as Clearwater was. But ... I could have loved her. I believed we could have grown to love each other. Here, in this peaceful place." He sighed. "I was young, and foolish. And she had been broken too badly." Derron had never been good at comforting words, but tried his best. "There are worse faults than young and foolish, Milord. And I think that despite the harm that had been done to her, deep down she recognized your kindness. As far as I know, she never sought to harm anyone, other than herself. Not you, not your son, nor anyone else she could have blamed. I can not fathom what could have been done to drive her to such hatred of self." "She was at King's Landing when the Lannisters came," said Lord Draupaud softly. "With Princess Elia, whose Lady in Waiting she was." Derron hesitated, then kept walking. He had been a soldier in the field during the fight for the throne. There had been many tales whispered about what had happened during the Sack of King's Landing though he tried not to put much stock in the more outlandish ones. But if even half of what he heard was true, then the victors seemed to him just as brutal as the family the vanquished. He had heard what Gregor Clegane was supposed to have done to Princess Elia, as well as her son. To witness that, or worse, to suffer the same fate, would explain the Lady's temperament. She probably blamed herself for not saving the life of the Princess or her son. He finally spoke, just as softly as Lord Draupaud. "Milord, she suffered enough to fill several lifetimes. I promise you we will learn who was behind this so justice may be done." He meant it, even if His Lordship was to behind it, seeing it as a form of mercy. He still kept an eye on the man's reactions. Lord Draupaud nodded slowly. "It was a murder planned and executed with some ... cunning. But ... " He broke off. "As long as she did not suffer more. As long as ... " They were in the Castle by now and Lord Draupaud's pace was quickening. When they reached the stairs, he took them two at a time. Derron was not the most agile person, but being tall had its advantages. He was able to keep pace with the man, two steps at a time. He stayed right behind him. The man might be losing control, and it could be up to Derron to stop him from reacting violently. But the Lord Slowed when he came to the guard on the door - clearly Ser Tomas felt it was appropriate, even though the lady within was now a corpse. A word with him, and then they could enter. The Silent Sisters had not tyet been, but the Septa had straightened her mistress and laid her on the bed, her hands folded at her breast. Her face was waxen pale but very peaceful and tranquility. The beauty she should have had in life was apparent, no longer disguised by her nervous, twisted changes of expression that had so reflected her poor tormented mind. Lord Draupaud dropped to one knee and bowed his head. After a moment, Derron saw his shoulders shake, and realised the Lord of Clearwater was weeping. Derron leaned against the wall, refusing to intrude upon the Lord's grief. He once more reviewed what he had learned, and still could not puzzle it out. He decided that if he could not figure out the identity of the killer from the direct evidence, maybe if he looked at it from a different angle. If he assumed that whomever had killed lady Draupaud had done it from some twisted form of compassion, a desire to release her from her pain, that would narrow his list. Who cared for her that much, but also had the knowledge of the things one could put in a tankard of ale to divert the guard? For some reason, his eyes alighted on the Septa. He did not know enough of her to gauge if she knew herb lore and such. He smiled grimly to himself and shook his head. He was not clever enough for this sort of thing. He found himself regretting taking the position of Steward. A smith's life was much simpler. The Septa's face was swollen with grief. But as Lord Draupaud continued to kneel beside the bed, gazing down at his dead wife, the Septa moved towards Derron. "I know it is a blessing in some ways," she said. "But my poor, poor lady!" Derron said softly, "Maybe a blessing for her, but a curse for those about her. Her husband and her son will have a hard time getting past their grief. As will you, I suspect. Tell me, how long had you been with her?" She wiped her eyes with a corner of her apron. "Since she was a small girl, Steward. Not when she went away, of course. But after ... it was to my arms that they brought her back. And I've never left her since." She glanced towards the door. "Perhaps we should be speaking outside," she suggested quietly. Derron nodded and stepped into the corridor. Derron decided to bet forthright. "Septa, I think this was done to her. Probably by someone who cared for her, and has knowledge of herbs and such. Tell me, do you have such knowledge? And if not, can you think of who might?" The Septa looked at him aghast. "But who ... my sweet Lady! Who could do such a thing?" Then her eyes seemed to slide away from his. "I have some knowledge of herbs. Not so much as the Maester's ... but he's away." Derron nodded and said, "Exactly. You see why I have to ask. Everything I have learned tells me it was someone who the Lady was familiar with, and not afraid of. This person had knowledge of herbs and poisons and, I think, believes they were giving Her Ladyship release." He paused then addeed, "And as you say, Maester Merivel is away." He waited for her reply. She folded her lips - there was something she was clearly not going to say. "Indeed, Steward," was all she managed. Then she looked up - Nico, Aerin and Ranulf were approaching. Ranulf nodded, then drew a deep breath and walked forward. "Where is my father?" he asked. The Septa turned away, lifting her apron to her eyes once more. Derron decided he would have to discuss this more with the Septa at a later time. He said very formally to Ranulf, "He is inside with your mother." He did not know if Ranuld knew everything so he added, "Brace yourself. It is bad news." "Lord Ranulf knows," Aerin said, her look somber as she answered for Ranulf. She nodded to Ranulf. "Do you want us to come with you?" she asked the lad. Ranulf looked up at them. "Please," he said. He marched forward and opened the door. Lord Draupaud was still on his knees by the bed of his late wife. He remained still for a moment, appearently intent on her still, pale face. "Father," said Ranulf clearly. Lord Draupaud turned. His face was terrible - his eyes raw red with tears, a mask of grief. "Get him out of here," he said. "Get him out ... and keep him out of my sight!" Derron masked the disappointment he felt. But he was not too surprised. He felt Lord Draupaud was not only being unfair to the boy, but possibly harming himself in the process. The part of him schooled in obedience to his employer told him to take the boy out. But he decided that he had to try, just this once, to do what he felt was right. After all, that was his job. It could cost him the rappor he had established with the man, but he felt it was worth the risk. He took two steps forward and halted, then spoke softly but firmly. "Milord, you have lost a wife, it's true. But the lad has lost his mother. His only one. And he is your heir. He needs your support, as you need his. A true leader knows when to fall back on those who will help him." He took another step forward and this time whispered, "If he is ever to become the man you hope him to be, now is the time for him to start the journey. Allow him his grief, and to be your son. He is the best remembrance you will ever have of her. She never asked anything of you, but you know she would ask you this. Don't deny her." Derron almost held his breath, waiting to be dismissed on the spot. Lord Draupaud was still, terribly still, staring at Ranulf, who did not flinch or move away, but gazed back at his father, his young body rigid. "My heir," said Lord Draupaud. And then he gave a strange, choking laugh. "My heir! And my best rememberance of my wife ... and of my marriage." Ranulf still stood, but they could see him quiver with the effort. Lord Draupaud stepped aside. "Go to your mother, then. Make your peace with her." Now Ranulf shot a scared look up at Aerin and Niko, not moving forward. Derron had turned back to look at the boy. Fortunately this had the advantage of masking his face from Lord Draupaud. He would have seen Derron look into Aerin's eyes and give the slightest indication with an eyebrow that she should help the boy. Unbidden, not returning Ranulf's look, Niko started forward, nudging Ranulf to walk with him, nodding to Aerin to do the same. Aerin stepped forward silently and took Ranulf's hand in her own. This was no more Ranulf's fault than her mother was Tomlin's fault. Not looking at Lord Draupaud she slowly led Ranulf into his mother's chamber and to the side of the bed so Ranulf could see her. The effect was less than [Niko] probably intended, but the makeshift honor guard made their way to the bedside, giving the young Lord at least the succor of their presence as he approached his mother. Ranulf gave a little gasp, halfway between shock and fear. Niko detachedly observed that the smell was not as bad as it could have been, and Lady Draupaud looked merely asleep- the silent sisters had done a good job preserving her, so hopefully that would help. His eyes narrowed slightly at the thought, even as his body precisely executed a turn to stand at the end of the bed, giving Ranulf his room for his grief. Nothing would help this situation but to bring the murderer to justice- they might have thought they were doing Clearwater a service, but what they had done was fracture this already damaged family- perhaps beyond repair. He looked down at Ranulf, so frail- he had viewed the boy's recent attachment as a lark, nothing more. But in the way that he handled this, Niko perhaps thought he had been wrong... Ranulf was looking down at his mother, shaking a little. Then suddenly he drew a deep breath and stiffened, as though determining to face all this without flinching. Lord Draupaud was watching him closely, but suddenly he turned. "I'm going down to my office," he said to Derron. "Please attend me there when ... when my son is finished." "Yes, Milord," Derron replied. He walked from the room. Ranulf watched him go - and then looked back at his mother. His stiffness seemed to relax a little. "Do you... do you know if she felt any pain?" he asked. Derron answered truthfully. "When I first saw her, her face was calm. So I do not believe so. I am hopeful that Maester Merivel will confirm that." "Thank you," said Ranulf, with a oddly adult dignity. "I ... wouldn't have liked to this she suffered, you know." He looked around at all of them gathered, watching him. "I ... have to be a man now," he said, even though his lower lip was quivering. "Will you ... all of you ... help me? Teach me?" Derron inhaled and exhaled through his nose, then said, "For as long as your father employs me. If I may be excused, he wishes to see me." He waited for the boy to dismiss him. Ranulf looked a little startled, and then gave a rapid nod. "Yes. Yes, of course, Steward Thorne. Please ... go to him at once." Derron bowed his head to the boy and left the room. He thought he had overstepped himself with Lord Draupaud. Now he would find how far. He made no stops, simply following the man's steps to his office. [Derron continues in Lord Draupaud Wept ] He looked at at Niko and Aerin, as though looking to them to confirm that he had done right. "Must we stay here?" he asked. [The others continue in The Young Lord Learns ] |
