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Caitrin was describing their daughter - a little prematurely Griff felt - as a "daddy's girl" as though it were a bad thing. To him, it seemed perfectly natural. He was the better parent, therefore it was only to be expected. He resisted the urge to narrow his eyes at Caitrin because he was a father now, and some level of maturity was expected, instead he just looked back at his daughter, who was still staring and it was beginning to become quite unnerving. She had a rather expectant look on her face. Like mother, like daughter it seemed - she was going to be handful. "She's staring at me..." Was he expected to do something? What he supposed to know what she wanted? How exactly did one know what a baby wanted? Weren't there instincts or something that were supposed to kick in? Well where the hell were they? Oh Jesu, this was already a disaster. He'd knew he'd be no good at this, and yet Caitrin had been adamant he'd be fine. Well, he'd proven her wrong, hadn't he? He couldn't enjoy the victory however because the girl was still staring. He stared back. So much for displaying some level of maturity.

Griff was actually quite surprised when Caitrin approved the name. For some reason he'd been expecting her not to like it, but no, she did, he'd managed to name their daughter. This was an achievement. Esmae Aubert it was then. He rocked the child gently in his arms, "What do you think of Esmae, huh? Or would you prefer Griffina?" Obviously, she didn't reply so Griff looked at Caitrin with a grin, "I'm taking her silence as a yes." He was trying to sound serious, but as always, it didn't work. "Alright, Esmae it is."

"I think just Arthur Aubert will be sufficient." He replied, a smile tugging at his lips, although he didn't see why his son could be named after the king, but he couldn't be named after his father. But it was obvious Caitrin had already made up her mind, and Griff had no objections against the name, he supposed it suited the child. At least she hadn't wanted to name him after her uncle, then he would have some objections. "Arthur and Esmae, quite a nice ring to it." Griff shifted slightly as Caitrin leant further back, just so he was still facing her, but careful not to move too much and disturb Esmae. His wife did look tired, but then that was to be expected, and of course he wasn't going to say that. She'd probably already trained the children to hit him at her command. "You've been married to me how long and yet you're only this happy now?" He raised a questioning eyebrow, although he had to agree with her. They had their family now and that was all that mattered.

Griff would have bit his lip, or scratched his neck, but he found such movement quite beyond him at the moment. He hurt. Of course he’d been in the odd tavern fight before, usually ones he’d managed to start himself, but he was far more intoxicated and usually the other person – or people – was drunk too and so not able to inflict quite so much pain. His entire body just wanted to stop but unfortunately that wasn’t an option. He had to carry on and ignore everything because his priority wasn’t himself anymore – it hadn’t been himself for quite a long time – his priority was Caitrin. He nodded as she spoke, really not surprised by her answer. He didn’t particularly want to stay either, but this wasn’t a new feeling. Mercia was not a place Griff thought highly of – it was far too cold and northern. His mind was wandering again, it had a tendency to do that when he was trying to be serious and focus on something important. It was something he’d always done, because obviously serious problems were far too much for him. So he thought about unhelpful things like how cold and northern Mercia was when he should be making everything alright again. But he didn’t know how. “We’ll leave, tomorrow, we’ll go back home, alright?” It was an odd thought, thinking about Camelot as home, but he supposed it must be. Glouchedon would never be his home again, Camelot was the place he was happiest, so it was home.

Judging by Caitrin’s reaction, his face was a complete mess. That was reassuring. Then again, he was in too much pain and far too tired to care about what he looked like. He could care about that later, when his head stopped throbbing and he stopped wanting to throw up. “I’m fine.” It was an obvious lie, and a far too pathetic attempt at making Caitrin feel better, but he was going with it anyway. He really didn’t want her putting herself out; she was in a state herself. He’d had enough injuries to know that if she started cleaning his wounds it would sting. A lot. This was just getting better and better, it wasn’t enough that his brain felt like it no longer wanted to be in his skull anymore, he had to face severe stinging as well.

Where was he hurt? The quickest answer would be where wasn’t he hurt? But this was Griff and he was trying to make light of the situation – as he always tried to do and usually failed but he was going to do that anyway. It was the only thing he could do with quite some confidence. A grin tried to form on his lips, but it was forced and made ugly by his split lip and bloodied teeth and gums. “Well there is a certain pain...below my waist...” Doing as he was told, he made his way over to the bed – slowly and painfully and regretting moving at all, but he eventually sat down, safe in the knowledge that movement was something he didn’t have to think about for quite a bit now, and what a nice feeling that was.

He watched her hands as she started ringing out the cloth, noticed how they were shaking. He put his own over them for a moment, gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile before moving his hand so she could continue. He knew very well how it might sting, he thought dryly, but he didn’t say that – Caitrin was only trying to help. He winced as soon as the cloth made contact with his skin, she wasn’t wrong about the stinging. “Ow.”

Griff wasn’t actually sure what he’d been saying. Whatever it wasn’t can’t have been that important, then again, there weren’t many things which were more important than their position right now. Apart from maybe Caitrin’s ha-and...right then...she was, she was just going to leave it there, then? Brilliant... Well, if she was expecting him to remember what he was saying – or have any sort of coherent thought, she should really stop moving her hands. Not that Griff was particularly complaining, but then he wasn’t usually one for coherent thought anyway.

His eyes had followed her hand, but now that it didn’t appear to be going anywhere else, he looked back up at her, a slightly confused expression on his face. “What, exactly, was I saying?” He still wasn’t entirely convinced his words had been that important – witty and, well, probably rather excellent, but important? Not nearly as much as Caitrin’s hand, or her leg, which had been the cause of his distraction in the first place- he’d forgotten what wasn’t important again. She was definitely doing this on purpose.

A smirk made its way onto his lips as he felt Caitrin shudder. Good, now they were even, well, sort of even, but rather uncharacteristically, he found himself quite happy to let her win this one. Even so, his fingers continued exploring her skin, tracing small circles against her collarbone as he thought over her words. Three reasons? That should be easy enough. “Firstly, that would involve moving. Moving. Secondly, you don’t want to leave and thirdly I don’t want you to live, and, with me being a man, you should do as I say.” He teased. There was no way he’d say that to her seriously, even so, he should probably prepare himself for her reaction.

So sorry about the delay!

It was not an unfamiliar feeling, not having any idea what to do. But it was frustrating and with each passing minute he was getting worse. He just needed to find her, to see her, to know that she was alright. That's all he wanted, it wasn't too much to ask, was it? He'd finally found someone he cared about more than himself, someone who he couldn't imagine being without, but as quickly as he'd found her, she'd been taken away, never, perhaps to be seen again. This was why, this was exactly why, he never let him care about anyone. That need to be with someone, to know that wherever they were, they were safe and happy, it was too much, because one way or another it would all go wrong. It was enivtable.

Griff had tried to protect himself from such an event, and look where it had got him. And, what's worse, instead of trying to find Caitrin, he was stood here, leaning against a wall and telling himself he'd been stupid to allow himself to care about her, because he'd only given himself more to lose. He really was a selfish thing, but then it was far easier to think about himself than the reality. As always, if he just focused on his own thoughts and feelings he could ignore everything else, he could ignore the fact that he still hadn't found her, and then he could ignore everything that came with that burden.

"Are you looking for someone?"

The young man jumped. He'd been to emerged in his thoughts to notice anyone approach him. He just looked at the man in front of him, quite certain that he should know his identity... "Oh, sire." He said quickly, dropping into a bow and embarrassed that it had taken him so long to recognise the prince. When he was stood straight again, the panic had returned to his features. "Yes, I- I'm looking for Lady Caitrin. I know she was in Camelot, she wouldn't have left and her un-" he stopped, he was rambling and that wasn't going to make the situation any better. "I don't know what's happened to her."

No, of course it wasn't ideal, any idiot could see that, but what else was he supposed to do? As everyone in the whole world knew, Griff didn't have an inheritance. He was living off a man who he wasn't even related to, waiting until the day when Lucan came into both of his damned inheritances to Griff could at least live off the chairty of someone of the same blood. It wasn't an ideal situation at all, but it was the one they were in and, well, damn it, he loved Caitrin and he wanted to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her, no matter where they happened to be living. Naturally, he didn't voice such an opinion to the man in front of him. Hardly any opinions were voiced in front of Rouland; he'd quickly learnt the stupidity of such actions. Griff just swallowed and tried to think of a satisfactory answer. He was, however, of the opinion that nothing would be a satisfactory answer. Oh why had he come here? Everything would have been far simpler if he and Caitrin had just eloped or something. "It's...it's not ideal, no, but, well..." he trailed off, there was no point reminding Rouland just how hopeless a suitor he was proving to be.

For a moment or two, Griff was just confused as to why he was being told about Rouland's son. Was this relevant? Was this the best time to start going on about yet another son with an inheritance? As far as Griff was concerned, it was hardly in good taste, which, probably explained why he was being brought up. It did not take long, however, for Griff to realise that perhaps that wasn't actually Rouland's intention. The young man just stared at Rouland for a few moments, trying to completely get his head around the situation. Caitrin would have the estate, that was fine and dandy, except, where Rouland was presumably going with this, Griff would be living there after they were married. Well that was another way to puncture his pride. So if Rouland had his way, Griff wouldn't be moving on from the charity of his brother's uncle to his brother, he would be moving on to his new wife's uncle - what was it with him and uncles?

The man was waiting for a reply, but Griff was still trying to decide which situation would be worse. Living with Rouland really wasn't an appealing idea, but he supposed Caitrin would probably prefer this arrangement and that was more important. He could put up with Rouland if it meant Caitrin was happi- hang on...was Griff actually putting someone else's wants and needs before his own? Gosh, maybe he was ready to be married after all. This was quite the revelation. Well, this was good, this was progress. Right then. Caitrin's happiness it was then. "Well, that is erm, I mean, I'm sure Caitrin would prefer this arrangement. If you're sure..."

Yes, alright, Lucan was the better Aubert. He'd been well aware of this fact the majority of his life, he really, really didn't need to be told right now and especially not by Rouland. Did they really need to discuss every single one of Griff's assets, because apart from being accepted by Caitrin, he couldn't think of many. He wasn't so naive as to think Caitrin's agreement would be enough but even so. This meeting was quickly turning into Rouland just listing all the ways in which Griff was completely inadequate. "No, that would be...well, I'm sure you know what that would be." Griff was quite certain the man had already formed quite a few opinions on the matter, none of which would paint him in a particularly positive light. "Luc will inherit my father's estate and the title of duke so he will live in Glouchedon."

Griff and Lucan had already discussed this, shortly after Griff had told him about his and Caitrin's engagement. Apparantly Lucan had already, or was going to, discuss this with Allard and everything seemed to be going according to plan. It seemed like quite a good idea, until he had to explain it to the man in front of him and suddenly it sounded like a ridiculous idea, but it was the only one he had. "So...essentially...Caitrin and I will live at the d'Ireby estate with Allard and Lucan until...well...until my father and Allard die." Now there was a cheery thing to be discussing. These nobles with money and lands...they were all so morbid. First born sons just seemed to spend their lives waiting for their fathers to die in order that they could claim their inheritance. Second sons, however, they had to find their own way in the world...or just marry someone with money. But that was beside the point. Griff wasn't exactly sure what his point was, but his thoughts were distracting him from the matter at hand, so they were more than welcome. Unfortunately, it seemed Rouland was determined to stop any distraction and so the young man was pulled back into the conversation.

Griff just looked at him, a rather confused and uncomfortable expression on his face. Wasn't it a little premature to be discussing what he was going to be doing with his daughters? He and Caitrin weren't even married yet! And anyway, he was going to have sons so it wasn't an issue. His parenting days would simply involve going to taverns and teaching his mini Griffs to charm their way towards free alcohol. He just coughed awkwardly, as if that was an acceptable answer because he really didn't know what to say, or whether anything was supposed to be said. He could never tell when Rouland was being rhetorical. It seemed his response was satisfactory, as Rouland quickly moved on to an even more fun topic.

Rouland's son might have been mentioned before, Griff wasn't actually sure. It was the sort of thing that might have been brought up into conversation and he'd either forgotten or not been listening in the first place. Either way, he was quite ignorant when it came to Dristan. He wasn't going to tell this to Rouland though - the man thought he was an idiot already so he was going to pretend that he knew this information at least. "I think Cait mentioned him." he replied vaguely while trying to work out where exactly Rouland was going with this.

Griff was beyond feeling threatened by Payton - somehow he'd managed to prove that he could actually hold his own against the man. Were his words meant to be a threat? Personally, Griff was seeing this as a positive outcome. The man might be Caitrin's father but she was better of without him, far better. They had managed perfectly well without his influence, and if this encounter had taught him anything - apart from his not being a complete failure when it came to holding his own in a fight - it was that they could continue managing without him. It seemed neither of their families was ever going to be a positive influence on their relationship, but quite frankly Griff didn't care. He had nothing but anger towards the man and didn't bother saying anything more to him. As far as he was concerned, Payton wasn't worth it. All he wanted now was for the man to be gone so he could make sure Caitrin was alright, or rather, because she clearly wasn't alright, try to change that.

The last punch came as a somewhat shock - he really had been expecting the man to just leave, and he was caught off balance a little. By the time he was steady on his feet again the man had gone. Immediately he was on the floor by Caitrin, trying to work out what to do. She looked hurt. How could anyone hurt their own daughter like this? He could feel the anger rising again but he tried to ignore it. Payton wasn't here anymore, his sole focus was now Caitrin. His arm was around her, lightly though as he wasn't sure just how she'd been hurt and didn't want to cause her anymore damage. As for himself, he was just about managing to focus and every inch of him seemed to be burning, his mouth still tasted like blood and there was a sharp pain in his gum where the teeth had been knocked out. He had no idea what he looked like, but he doubted it was good. But right now that didn't matter. He'd soldier on.

"It's not your fault, Cait, none of this." He said firmly, before having to cough. His gums must still be bleeding because small splatters of blood appeared on his fist where he'd been covering his mouth. He wiped the first across his mouth, probably managed to smear the blood on his face in the process, not that anyone would notice. Once again he was at a complete loss of what to say. Nothing he could think of would stop Caitrin's pain or convince her to think differently. Payton still had that hold over her. "If you want to leave, that's what we'll do. Just...just don't blame yourself, please Cait? It's not your fault."

Griff took the bow and and quiver from the servants, giving Oliver a questioning look in the process. Our ladies? Was there something going on with him and Yassia? He was sure Caitrin would have mentioned something if there was, unless there was something going on and she didn't know either, that was would be more strange. Alternatively, she could have mentioned a great deal and he'd either forgotten or hadn't been listening in the first place - not that he didn't listen to her a lot. He did have some sense of self-preservation, well, a lot actually, he had oodles of self-preservation. Anyway. His thoughts were going off topic. There was something far more interesting for him to be thinking about: whether or not he should be asking Oliver about his comment. Of course, it wasn't any of his business whether there was something between the young prince and Yassia, but it was interesting and there might be some small chance Griff could offer some words of advice. Alright, it was a tiny chance, but even so.

"Our ladies...?" He raised an eyebrow at Oliver, "And which of these ladies will be yours?" He kept the smirk from his face for the moment - for all he knew this could be a sensitive subject so he didn't want to be seen to be making a joke of it. That was hardly going to endear him to the man.

For some reason he still felt awkward even with Oliver telling him to use his name. Royalty were simply not addressed by their first name and it was going to be a rather difficult habit to break. Well, he supposed he was going to have to endeavour, despite what his automatic responses would be. But, before he could get too hung up on Oliver's request he was having a water bag thrown at him. He held his hands up to catch it, forgetting he was holding the bow and quiver so they ended up falling to the ground. He pulled the cork out and took a sniff. This was definitely not water. "I'm not sure Cait would approve of this so early," he shrugged before taking a swig, "But she's not here."

Griff had already decided he didn't much care for swords but he cared even less for his lessons. This was definitely the lesser of two evils, so with this in mind he stood there and tried to be interested in what Lucan was saying. Swords were stupid. When was he ever going to have to use one? Never. Therefore this whole excercise was pointless. He looked over to where Thomas and his father were still sat, and still watching him. How was he supposed to concentrate now? This wasn't what Griff had had in mind at all. The cupboard was becoming a much more favourable prospect, but, alas, he was stuck here for the foreseeable future. Rather unethusiastically he took the sword from Lucan - this time prepared for its weight. Well how was he supposed to be aim for the head when he couldn't reach the head? Or lift the sword up high enough for that matter? Lucan hadn't thought this through. And yes, this was entirely Lucan's fault. If his brother hadn't been practicing in the first place their father wouldn't have suggested Griff have a go and he could have just spent his time trying to get out of learning anything.

At Lucan's next suggestion, Griff looked up at him with a suspicious look. What did he know about hiding places? He was always far too sensible for that. Lucan, he had been told far too many times, had always been well-behaved when he was Griff's age. That's what his father told him - it didn't matter what age Griff was at the time, Lucan had always been better behaved. His brother didn't understand about things like running from lessons and hiding in cupboards. "How would you know?" he asked rather petulantly. Lucan was too boring for that sort of thing. No, he clearly didn't know what he was talking about, which was a shame really because Griff really could do with another, more effective, hiding place.

Try again? He didn't want to try again! He wanted to just be good at it. Wasn't that how these things were supposed to work? Practice was just boring. Griff had never been the most patient of people, but this was just silly. He was never going to be any good with a sword so this whole excercise was just pointless. Rather grumpily he stepped towards the dummy, glancing back to give Lucan a definite look before trying to hit it again. This time he managed to attack one of dummy's legs. It was too high for him - that was the problem, not his lack of skill of strength, but the height of the thing.