Room for One More?

[Aoife de Archer]

Aoife de Archer already didn’t care much for Camelot. It wasn’t as scenic as her native Mercia was, and she held her head up as she rode through the forest, taking in everything that she could manage. There was only a small party of people to escort her to her Aunt and Uncle’s home in Camelot, and it had already been made clear that she would not be their ward for long. Her father had made it out like she was going to just be an extended guest at their house, and that was it. She had of course wanted to stay in Mercia, but her father hadn’t remarried yet, and she couldn’t look after the house by herself just yet. Maybe her father would let her try again in a year or so, she pouted slightly, but then remembered there was no one here who would pay her any attention.

She pressed her lips together and nudged her horse on, as someone shouted they were nearing their destination. Even Aoife couldn’t deny she was curious to see the place. It seemed strange there was a little hub of Mercian’s living in Camelot. Well, her Uncle wasn’t Mercian, she wasn’t sure what he was, but he wasn’t Mercian and that was all that mattered to her. Nudging her horse onwards, she saw a large manor come into view. Well, it was larger than her home in Mercia had been, that was a start. Her lips didn’t change into a smile at all, but they were soon at the estate, and one of the men helped Aoife off her horse. “Welcome to Camelot my Lady.” The man had a thick Mercian accent, which didn’t really work with what he was saying. Aoife just nodded at him. What she wouldn’t give to be back home, and not having to bother about making a good impression.

Aoife remembered Richard telling her about this Aunt of hers ages ago now. She’s just been toying with him, and teasing him, but she’d never expected to meet the woman in question. Aoife still couldn’t understand why her other Aunts and Uncle’s wouldn’t take her in, it was all incredibly insulting. It wasn’t like she was a handful or anything, all she needed was a nice gown here and there, her mare and that was it. She just looked about her, Camelot just seemed very plain, and that was it. She wasn’t that impressed. “Shall I show you inside my Lady?” Aoife looked around, put off there was no one here to greet her. What could be so important that her Aunt and Uncle couldn’t spare a few moments to come and see her in? It was just rude, didn’t they know that? True, she was a day or so early, but they still should have been expecting her. This was so unorganised.

“Yes, thank you.” Aoife said to the man who began to lead her into the manor. It was quite splendid, and Aoife could imagine living here. It would never be her home of course, and she already just wanted them all to take her back to Merica. What was she going to do in Camelot? She’d never wanted to come here anyway.

“My Lord and Lady Aubert are in the solar, shall I show you through my Lady?” A fresh faced maid had appeared in front of her. Aoife didn’t really like her accent, but she nodded and the man by her side released her, telling her they would start unpacking her things before they went back to Mercia. She wanted to go back with them, was that so much to ask? The maid rushed off and Aoife was stood there rather awkwardly with her head held high, waiting to be introduce to her Uncle and Aunt.

Tags: Griff Aubert, Caitrin de Archer
Timeline: A few months after the series 4 finale
Time of Day: Afternoon

[Griff Aubert]

Griff wasn't entirely sure why Caitrin's niece was coming to live with them - or stay with them, whatever she was doing. When it came to the affairs of the de Archers Griff just nodded. He saved himself many a headache that way. Having said that, the addition of another de Archer probably meant a lot more headaches were coming his way. He was sure Caitrin had told him something about Aoife, but all he could remember was that she was a teenager and she'd lived in Mercia all her life. Griff could already imagine all the fun they would have together. It was dangerous enough living with one hormonal Mercian woman. What if they joined forces? Already he was convinced this wasn't going to end well. The girl hadn't even arrived yet.

"What do you think?" Griff muttered to Arthur. The pair of them were sat on the floor, Griff with his legs stretched out and Arthur in between them. Of course it hadn't occurred to Griff that Arthur didn't actually know what he was supposed to be giving an opinion on, but the child bit his lip which Griff assumed was an answer of agreement. "I thought so too."

Arthur was just staring at him. Well that was just rude - the fact that he was yet to understand English was entirely besides the point. He looked up at his wife, unlike their son she would actually pay attention to him. Actually, that wasn't true, but he could get annoyed at her whereas he couldn't get annoyed at his son. "I was just saying to Arthur how worried he should be," Griff began, having to twist his neck slightly to see Caitrin. By "telling Arthur" he meant thinking it, but he was fairly certain he and Arthur already shared a psychic bond and the child understood everything he thought completely. Well, not everything, he was far, far too young to understand everything. "Another Mercian in the house, and not just any Mercian, a female one." Griff grinned. He and Arthur were going to be outnumbered - alright, there was Rouland who could be called upon to make up numbers if they got desperate, but he wasn't an Aubert or sociable so he didn't count. If all else failed, they could always make Esmae an honourary boy - she was an Aubert after all.

[Caitrin de Archer]

Caitrin wasn’t really sure about this at all. The letter from her brother, Bryce, had come from nothing essentially. She hadn’t spoken to him in years, and yet he sent her a heartfelt plea to take in his eldest child, a daughter, in with her. Caitrin had agreed, in a moment of madness she sometimes reflected. After all, she had two young children of her own to worry about. Let alone she had the house to worry about, and her Uncle, and Griff. Jesu, what had she been thinking? On top of all that she had started with a sickness again. She hadn’t told Griff about that yet, but if it persisted then they would all know about it soon enough. She was sat in the solar at the moment, her niece wasn’t expected until tomorrow so there was no rush. The chambers had been made up for Aoife, along with some materials for a new dress. Caitrin had made some provisions, but she had no idea really what to do with a teenager. She felt bad in a way, she’d imposed this upon Griff somewhat, but she supposed she felt bad for the girl as well. After all, her Uncle had taken her in on a whim and look at where it had led her.

Caitrin was lying on the floor on top of a blanket with Esmae on top of her, the child was just sort of lying there, propping herself up against her mother’s chest every now and again with a grin. Caitrin smiled at her daughter, her red hair was truly starting to show now, and her fingers ran through the soft hair at her head. Esmae gurgled and started to laugh and Caitrin propped Esmae up against her raised knees, so she could now sit up. It took her a few moments to get used to this new set up, but as soon as she did she looked quite happy, though her attentions were quickly taken by her father. Typical. Caitrin moved her head to the side so she could see her husband, and pulled a face at him. “There is nothing wrong with Mercian women.” The amount of times she’d said that during their marriage... honestly. Esmae was now crawling off her mother and making her way slowly over to her father. Caitrin rolled her eyes and lay back on the floor.

Sitting up, Caitrin watched Esmae as she reached her father, and was obviously put out by the amount of attention her brother was receiving and began to try to cling to his leg. Arthur just looked round at his sister, confused as to how she’d got there in the first place. Caitrin just watched them all and let a small laugh run out of her lips, “It’s a good thing we didn’t have triplets, you’d run out of arms.” She grinned but her attention was quickly diverted as one of the maids rushed in. The woman always looked as if she was going to break some bad news, no matter what she had to say,

“Forgive the disturbance, but your niece, the Lady Aoife de Archer has just arrived, shall I show her in?” Caitrin nodded and jumped up off the floor and smoothed down her dress, she was about to tell Griff to follow suit but he was rather preoccupied as their children were clambering all over him. Oh well, if Aoife was going to live with them, she was going to have to take them as she found them, they weren’t going to put on a pretence for her.

[Aoife de Archer]

Aoife smoothed out her dress before being shown into the solar where her Aunt and Uncle were. She felt like she was on show somewhat, but this just felt strange. She’d never met this side of the family, she’d only heard about them, and if Richard was anything to go off then her Aunt was going to be strange. She hadn’t heard anything about her Uncle, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. After all, her father spoke about all the most important people over their dinner table. Aoife always listened of course, but her Uncle and Aunt had never been mentioned in those sorts of conversations. The house was quite nice though, so she supposed it wasn’t all bad. Maybe they’d let her go riding, she’d like that.

It seemed to take forever for the maid to come back to her, though it was probably only a matter of seconds. Patience wasn’t a trait any of the de Archers could really say that they owned. Her father had told her that once, so it wasn’t her fault she was impatient, it was in her blood. Anyway, it had been a long ride and she really just wanted to sit down and not be bothered by anything or anyone. The maid showed her into the room and then promptly left. Wait, wasn’t she going to introduce her?! Aoife stood rather awkwardly for a moment, before remembering to sweep into a low curtsey before raising her eyes to her Aunt and her Uncle, only her Aunt, or who she assumed to be her Aunt was stood there though. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, my name is Lady Aoife de Archer.” She quickly blurted out, and inwardly cringed, why was she apologising for being late? She was a day early, Jesu this was already going badly. Her Aunt was stepping towards her, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed a man with two babies around him and she inwardly groaned. Her father had told her that her Aunt had children, but she had been hoping for someone a bit older, not babies. What fun were they?

“It’s nice to meet you Aoife.” The woman inclined her head towards her, “My name is Lady Caitrin Aubert, this is my husband Griff Aubert, and our children, Esmae and Arthur Aubert.” Once the formalities were done with she managed a small smile at her Aunt. She still spoke like a Mercian, and she hadn’t been expecting that. “Would you like to sit down?” Caitrin asked her and Aoife nodded and took up a seat not too far away from her Uncle and cousins. She looked down at the babies. She couldn’t understand why everyone said babies were so cute, they just looked the same to her,

“How old are they?” She asked, thinking of something,anything to say. The question was said more to her Uncle though as her Aunt had gone off fetching drinks. Aoife let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding and brushed her skirt again, well, so far so good.

[Griff Aubert]

Griff wasn't going to argue with Caitrin's words, well, not vocally at any rate. Normally he would voice his opinion and just let her be annoyed, but he'd learnt that it was best to just let her carry on thinking that, in her own words, there was "nothing wrong with Mercian women". Well, there was a reason she was the only Mercian he'd ever been intimate with, that was all he had to say on the matter, or think on the matter, whatever. Arthur appeared to be agreeing with him, this wasn't surprising, even if he was technically half Mercian, but the boy was also half Glouchedonian and that was clearly the better half. He turned his head to say something to his wife when he noticed Esmae making her way over to him. She'd clearly abandoned her mother in order to voice her agreement with him too. See - the children knew. "What do you think Es?" He asked, grinning down at her before looking rather triumphantly as Caitrin. "They're both on my side."

Esmae started pulling on his leg, obviously trying to get his attention while Arthur was clearly not happy about his sister joining them. It had been a long time since Griff had been in such high demand. He managed to prize his daughter's hands from his trousers, picked her up and set her down next to Arthur. There, now they both had the same amount of attention and he wasn't being pulled around. Well, not yet anyway. "Oh you're just jealous." He replied just as Esmae decided she had actually been quite enjoying his leg and Arthur started following suit. This was not going to end well.

Griff had been rather preoccupied and so hadn't been paying attention to what was going on around him - other than his children and their sudden interest in his limbs - until he saw Caitrin standing up from the corner of his eye. Esmae and Arthur would not appreciate his moving, so he'd just have to stay where he was. He managed to shuffle round though, so at least he would be facing the right way when Caitrin's niece arrived. Well...didn't she look happy? Then again, she was Mercian, he should have been expecting as such. And they were going with formalities, Griff hated formalities, they were awkward and he just became uncomfortable and filled silences with inappropriate comments that just appeared to blurt out of his mouth without his permission. With this in mind, he just decided to keep his mouth shut and smile when Caitrin introduced him to the girl.

Hmm, a question, this would involve and answer and therefore talking. Aoife already looked unimpressed...why was this unnerving? Damn Mercians. His plan was to just sit in the corner with the twins and leave Caitrin and Aoife to it. Apparantly that wasn't the plan. How old were they...good question, and one that would result in his death if he didn't answer correctly. Jesu, how old were they? Days, weeks, even months seemed to all be merging together at the moment. He could tell Aoife the exact time they were born, down to the minute, but he couldn't tell her how much time had passed since. Oh Caitrin would not be happy. He was just going to pick a number and hope for the best, and also hope Caitrin wouldn't attack him until Esmae and Arthur were well out of harm's way, which meant he just had to hang onto them to save his skin. "Four months..." he looked at Arthur for reassurance. The child just stared at him. Helpful. "Yes, four months."

[Aoife de Archer]

Aoife felt quite out of place here already. She didn’t want o be here, why couldn’t she just go back to Mercia, and live out there. She knew her father couldn’t welcome her home until he remarried, so she hoped that that happened sooner rather than later. She wondered if her Aunt and Uncle lived in some sort of poverty. Their clothes weren’t extravagant, and the manor was a lot smaller than her fathers. She looked at the children, why on earth were they down here with the parents? Both Aoife’s siblings had been looked after by a wet-nurse until they were well past infancy. It was just how they did things, why on earth were her aunt and uncle already acting so unconventionally?! She kept quite a straight face though, not really giving away much. After all, she had to live with them.

Looking back at her Uncle, her question was finally answered, though he seemed quite a bit unsure of his own words. Her Aunt beside her was resisting the urge to bury her head in her hands and ask why her husband had no idea how old their children were. Ignoring her aunt, Aoife just looked at the babies, who seemed more interested in crawling all over her Uncle than doing anything else. This is why they should have been with a wet-nurse. “They seem quite... happy.” She concluded, not really knowing what to say. She wasn’t that interested in babies, she’d had enough of them what with her brother and sister. In her experience all they did was cry, and demand attention. How could anyone think that was cute? Her Aunt had shifted forwards in her seat a little, and she smiled at Aoife,

“I’m sure you’re tired after your journey, I’ll just make sure that all your bags have been taken up to your room, so you may retire when you wish.” Aoife gave a soft smile and gave her thanks. She did want a lie down, she’d been riding for most of the day, and she was quite tired. The journey here had been quite rushed over the border, after all though there was a peace treaty in place, the relations between Camelot and Mercia were still quite shaky. With that, her Aunt got up, gave her husband a quick grin and left the room. If Aoife had been a less noble woman, she would have groaned at this arrangement, but instead she just looked back to her Uncle watching her cousins carefully.

“Where is their wet-nurse?” Aoife finally asked, the question was almost bursting out of her. She could only be patient and wait for what she wanted to know, but patience wasn’t one of Aoife’s virtues, so instead she had half blurted her question out, “Both my brother and sister had one from birth, you see.” She explained, after all, a woman of noble birth couldn’t be expected to feed her baby from her own breast. It was just unheard of. Unless her Aunt did that as well. Jesu, what other ridiculous notions had her Aunt and Uncle incorporated into their lives as well as this? Why did she have a habit of running into ridiculous people? This had all started with Richard, but at least he had been amusing. Running out of things to talk about, amazingly, Aoife bit her lip, trying to think what else to say, “Have you ever been to Mercia my Lord?”

[Griff Aubert]

Wait...why was Caitrin leaving? Where was she going? Why did she think leaving was an appropriate thing to do at this juncture? He was fully aware that he had married a mad woman, but this...she was leaving him on his own, not only with the twins which was bad enough, but with her niece. He could just about cope on his own without injuring himself or dying, but now he was responisible for three people. If any of them died, it was her fault for trusting him.

Aoife's first question was a rather odd one. They didn't have a wet-nurse. It just hadn't been something either of them considered - they were both adamant that their children would actually have happy, loving childhoods, a wet-nurse would get in the way of that. Besides, why would either of them want to give up moments like this? Or rather moments like this minus random Mercian teenagers. "We don't have one." He replied simply while pulling Esmae away from his foot, trying to keep some kind of level of control. "Never have."

Had he ever been to Mercia? Well there was a nice and awkward conversation. Yes, he had, and he certainly wouldn't forget the visit. He hadn't particularly wanted to go in the first place - the north was depressing and cold, but Caitrin had forced him. It would be fun, she had said, they would be with Oliver and Yassia and he'd enjoy himself. He hadn't, well, he mostly hadn't. He'd been right about it being a depressing and cold place...and then he'd met Caitrin's father. He still couldn't think about that night without the anger returning, which is why he tried not to think about it all. But that was all in the past now and that was the main thing.

Aoife was still expecting an answer, he had a feeling she would always be expecting something. She had that look about her. "Yes, before the twins were born we went there together." That was probably enough information for now, especially as he didn't have many positive things to say about the place. "What about you? Is this your first time in the south?"

[Aoife de Archer]

Aoife had always had an idea of how she would run her own household when she was eventually married. So far her aunt and Uncle were completely going against everything that she had in mind. For one, why on earth were they concerning themselves over their new born children? Every noblewoman knew that children were looked after by wetnurses until they were of a half decent age. Even then they were supposed to be looked after by tutors. It cemented Aoife’s view that her relatives must be living in some sort of poverty. And why on earth was her Aunt checking on her bags? Did they not have servants to do that as well? She made a small ‘mmm’ noise when her Uncle Griff told her that the children had never had wetnurses. Oh Jesu, did that mean that her Aunt nursed the children herself? Aoife felt slightly ill at the thought. “Why not?” She asked with a puzzled look on her face, as she watched her Uncle struggle with the babies.

As she continued to speak to her Uncle, she remembered a conversation she had had long ago, with a princess from another land. The woman had spoken highly of her Aunt and Uncle, and about how happy they were in their marriage, or at least that was what Aoife could remember. Pressing her lips together, she wondered if that was truly the case. Well, at least her Uncle had been to Mercia. She wondered why he had chosen to stay here after visiting her kingdom. After all, Mercia was rich country, and her whole family lived there. She could not understand her Aunt’s desire to stay here. “What did you think of the kingdom, Uncle?” She asked him politely, curious to hear his view. His accent was not one Aoife had ever heard before, and if it was a Camelotian accent then this was going to be a painful visit.

She nodded at his question; Aoife hadn’t been this far south for a reason. Up until now she had no reason to go anywhere outside Mercia, and she had never expected to. “I have never been outside Mercia before now.” She said gently. Aoife wasn’t enjoying the sensation of not being in her homeland anymore; she was already longing for home. Perhaps she would get used to this in time, but for now she was resigned to dislike it. Aoife brushed her hands on her skirt and pressed her lips together, “Is that a Camelotian accent my Lord?” She asked him, trying to change the topic of conversation rather swiftly.