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-------Vortigern stared at the man as he bowed. Well, that is a good start. At least he knew how to greet royalty. A scarce quality in people these days. But his words were hardly reassuring. Detained? As if that was a suitable reason. Vortigern was Prince of Sorelia! He had come all this way as a guest for the events. The least the prince, soon to be king, could do was come out to greet him. Not very hospitable at all. Instead, he sent a replacement. This, Iwan person. Vortigern's eyes looked over him with evident disdain. He highly doubted the man would make sure that Vortigern had everything he needed. Apart from being disrespectful, people were also incompetent. And would be deemed so until proven otherwise. Besides, Vortigern had very high standards. Ones that even his own servants could hardly ever meet.

-------"I require being greeted with the proper respect from the man who invited me." There. Blunt. To the point. The man had asked a question and Vortigern had given an all to straight forward answer. What did it matter if it was rude. Arthur was rude for not coming out to greet him. "What makes you so able to take his place?" Now he was questioning what qualified him for such a job. "Are your qualities as a knight that insufficient, that the soon to be king sends you out to do such things?" Better than a servant. Then again, Vortigern still was offended. Be it servant, or noble, he expected nothing less than a royal to be here as he rode through the castle gates.

-------Though the preparations were under way, Vortigern's duties were not necessarily at a halt. It was his sister's who were mostly taking care of organizing the event... which made sense. It was a woman's job to deal with the more menial tasks. However with this celebration, the king's birthday, they had called for entertainment and the castle was busier than normal with all the nobles from estates throughout Sorelia. All here to celebrate another year of King Gildas' life. Who knows how many of these he had left. Vortigern had just recently returned to the courtyard with a few men. About four were his knights who had accompanied him. And two were recent prisoners. They were young boys, neither older than twelve. Their wrists bound with rope tied to the saddle of one of the knight's horse and they were being dragged along, forced to keep up with the pace of the running horse.

-------What had they done wrong? Nothing. But the misdeeds of their father tainted the children's innocence. He dismounted from his horse, seeing the crowd gather at what Vortigern's most recent act of punishment was. The real and true punishment... was that the children's parents did not know the fate of their children. He had purposely left it ambiguous, so that the fear of the unknown would be worse than hearing the news of their child's death. Also, because Vortigern hadn't quite decided what to do with them yet. "Let this serve as yet another lesson, that paying taxes is compulsory. If you do not pay, then you will be punished." The crowd watched, though there was no shock at the audacity of Vortigern's actions. But more so the fear of the fate of the children. "Take them to the stocks," he demanded to the guards, and the boys were dragged away.

-------No food. No water. And that was how they would remain until on the brink of death. For now anyway. Vortigern seemed to be done addressing the people and the crowd then took the hint and slowly dispersed, that tense silent air being filled with the casual noise of chatter once again. When the group of people cleared, Vortigern noticed a smaller group of people just stand there. As if they were waiting for something. Were they perhaps the entertainment? Or were they just lost? Either way, Vortigern inwardly groaned at the thought of having to find out their purpose for being here. He approached them, seeing one woman in particular who had clearly been watching what was going on. "What is your business here?" He demanded in a strongly authoritative voice.

-------This was an utter waste of time. Vortigern could not believe his father was making him do this. What purpose would it serve? Going to Carmelide for the sole reason to offer his condolence to an inferior family? All they had was good relations with the king. Now, they were nothing. A woman had inherited the man's estate, as if them being mere nobles wasn't degrading enough for Vortigern. But no. His father had gotten word of their hospitality years ago when Vortigern had initially visited Carmelide. Hospitality. Pfft. Vortigern scoffed at the word. Little did Gildas know how completely rude and inappropriate they had been. The daughter making a scene and leaving in the middle of dinner. So undisciplined. And now he would have to suffer her company all over again. Only... there were no men to talk to. Just a naive little girl who wouldn't know what to do with all of daddy's wealth. The thought was nauseating.

-------He had stalled his time with the king for as long as he could, before he decided to just rip the stitches and be done with it. The sooner he went to the estate, the sooner this would be over and done with. So with that, he rode off, arriving in the early evening. Good. He would only have to suffer through one meal, and then call it an early night. Though his father had told him to stay for at least a couple of days. Word had been sent to them of his arrival, so they better prepare adequately. After all, Vortigern was a prince. A royal. They were lucky he was gracing them with his presence. He made a face as he neared the estate and then straightened himself up, giving that oh so typical expressionless look that Vortigern often projected. He slowed his horse to a halt and dismounted, removing his riding gloves, as one of the servants took his horse to the stables. This was going to be the longest, and most mundane trip ever.

Tag: Romily de Braose

-------Entrust him to convey his niece to her chambers. Vortigern was tempted to lead down the stairs and throw her in the dungeons instead. To teach her a lesson that was long overdue. But he 'politely' gave a single drawn out nod of his head, complying with his father's request. And Lord Rouland's confirmation. What did his father see in this man that was so beneath royalty? He supposed that during the duration of their stay here, he would find out. Though even if the man had justifiable qualities, Caitrin certainly did not. And that was who's company he was cursed with now. He watched the men leave, his father looking a bit too eager to 'catch up with his old friend' as he said. But really, he knew it was his futile attempt to arrange a wedding between him and Caitrin. Never. Ever!

When the elder men left the room, Vortigern did not even look at Caitrin as he turned to walk through the doors, expecting her to follow him. He did however have to wait at the door for her to join him, before they began to walk down the hall. Unfortunately, side by side. Damn it. The woman was here only for a few moments and he was already sick of being forced to treat her as an... equal. He wanted to gag at the mere implication. With the halls empty for the moment and no servants around them, he decided to ask a question that he had been a bit curious about. "Did you give birth to a bastard?" The question was harshly blunt and direct. Purposely leaving out any emphasis on his ties to that child. He desperately hoped she had not. His blood was too precious to run in a child who's blood was mixed with Caitrin's. But asking it now was the only way to find out. For he made no plans to visit her in Camelot.

(I slightly god modded Caitrin! Do let me know if you would like me to edit!)

-------When Vortigern had been inquiring about the political situation of Ailantha, he had been expecting more details. Then again, he had after all asked a woman. What could he expect her to know about politics. She was clearly incapable of understanding such complexities. Yet she was worth something, which was why he kept her here. Which was why he knew that his plan would be successful. So long as the good king Gildas did not find out. He loved his father and he was truly loyal to him...but someone would have to rule when he was dead and gone. And that someone, would be Vortigern. He needed to establish Sorelia now, and the kingdom was begging for a war. Or well, he was begging for a war. But he was the kingdom, so it made sense. "Behold!" He began to say in an exaggerated tone. "The heir to the throne, in front of me."

-------Battered and bruised, and it was a pathetic sight that brought a sinister smile of condescension and mockery. "Should I be honored? Should I bow before you?" He would do neither because he was superior. Instead, he took a few steps close to her, his towering figure looking down at her. She was beneath him, lower than him: both in the physical and symbolic way. As if he had not degraded her enough, he decided to do something else that would answer his own question. He spit on the ground next to her, for that was how he felt about her. Glaring at her for another moment, he then continued to speak. "Some heir to the throne. You are so proud of your title that you run away like a coward and abandon your people. Tell me, how is the peasant life suiting you, queen of Ailantha?" His last words were spoken with anything but respect. Her title was more said in a tone of ridicule, rather than acknowledgment and respect.

-------All thoughts of amusement had forgone Vortigern's mind. He could not believe this. The witch had some how made herself come here. To what? Tell him that she had been with child from him? He did not see a babe in her arms, so he took that as a good sign. Unless she was more crafty than he initially thought. She had after all drugged him to seduce him to bed. He was not quick to forget that. His father and her uncle embraced and Vortigern tried not to let the bitterness of this reunion show. It did not help matters though, that his father had told him to consider this proposal. Hell would freeze over before Vortigern ever considered a woman such as this Caitrin creature. On the surface she appeared to be an innocent little thing. But on the inside, he knew far better. His father however did not. So when she was introduced to him, King Gildas went to her and took her hand, kissing the top of it.

-------Damn this whole situation. "Lady Caitrin. What a true image of beauty." Vortigern felt nauseous. "You grace us with your presence here." And now he felt like he had just thrown up a little in his mouth. "May I present my son, Prince Vortigern." Damn. That was his cue. Vortigern took a step forward to stand by his father's side. Friend or no friend of the Royal family of Sorelia, he was not going to bow down to two people who were beneath his station. So he only gave a short nod. At least appearing someone respectful. Though stern. He was not exactly the warm and open kind of person. "Lord Rouland." He let his eyes remain on the elder man before they slowly trailed over to his niece. "Lady Caitrin." It surprised him that he did not speak through clenched teeth. His words came out rather fluently. Even though his mind was filled with only hateful thoughts of her. The only reason he was not lashing out quite yet was because of the fact that he was in the presence of his father.

-------He may not agree with the old man's policies, and overly welcoming nature to menial and trivial families. But he was his father. His king. And he respected him. To avoid any sort of tense silence, Gildas spoke once again. "You both must be famished from your travels. Come. Join me in my study Rouland and we shall talk over drink while food is prepared." Vortigern knew what was coming. His father was already trying to play matchmaker and they had only 'met' for a few moments. "Vortigern, why not take Lady Caitrin to her guest chambers." There was nothing that Vortigern wanted less. Did Rouland know of this arrangement? If he did, Vortigern would not be surprised if he did not object to it. For what man would not want their niece to wed a prince? The De Archer family were the only ones who would benefit from this. And the Royal family of Sorelia would suffer. Why could his father not see that?!

-------And there it was! Her beg; her plea. It was what he had meant to force out with his threatening actions. Whether it was a sincere one or not, Vortigern had gotten what he wanted. He had asserted control. He had made it known to her that he held so much in the palm of his hand, her sight being only one of those things. Best she guard her words now, though in the back of Vortigern's mind he knew that was not in the nature of Yassia. Even with the blade so close to her pupil, she had still refused. Still claimed not to cry. Stick opposed the intimidation he was trying to display. Never the less, this was still a victory for him. An expected one, but a victory none the less. To scare her just for a few more moments, he slowly lowered the blade to the tip of her eye, knowing that if it would go any closer than it would puncture it.

-------He stayed like this for a couple of moments, right before he drew the blade back and simultaneously threw her to the ground. With all the pressure that he had been grasping her with, he forcefully released it. He stood on his feet once more, looking down at her, as he always would. "Good girl," he said with taunting menace. He spoke to his dogs with more praise. He had no respect for her. Her outspokenness and determination were not qualities that he admired. They were ones that made him angrier. Ones that made him deem her as an enemy rather than a woman worthy of his respect and admiration. And if things eventually played out according to his ultimate plan, such traits would be the death of her. By his hand. "Now, once you are done with your whimpering... "

-------Yes; whimpering. Because he felt she was whimpering. It was annoying really, even though he had wanted to draw the tears out of her. "Tell me the political situation of Ailantha." It was not a request, it was a command. He wanted to know the details of what was going on there. Why she had left, what state it was in, what their defenses were like... everything. He of course could not expect her to know much, for she was just a woman after all. And women were never well versed in politics [according to Vortigern's chauvinistic mind]. So she would most probably dumb it down, and he would have to be forced to make do with what he had. A naive little princess who did not know how to follow orders. But threatening to blind her was only the beginning. He could interrogate her well throughout the night, and use more cruel means of persuasion if necessary.

-------Vortigern had just returned to the castle after an early morning filled with... implementing the laws in his own creative ways. Yes. That was how he would phrase it. It involved a few limbs, a few screams, and a couple of heads but he felt he got the word across. A full days work in fact. For it had been days since he'd made an appearance on that side of the kingdom. Entering the castle, he was told to that his father required his presence. Vortigern went to his chambers first, needing to change out of his armor. With the help of his servants, he undressed from his armor and clad himself in his extravagant attire. Not that any of his clothing was less than expensive and held the appearance of anything less than a prince. Vortigern had his vanity after all. Once he was dressed, he made his way to his father's chambers, not having realized that were to expect company. Not until he walked into his father's room. A flicker of curiosity crossed Vortigern's eyes as he saw his father standing, and dressed in his royal attire.

-------Well this was certainly interesting. His crown was even sitting on the side, to be placed on his head. Upon seeing Vortigern, Gildas dismissed all but one of the servants and the prince waited until the doors were shut behind him before inquiring about this uncommon sight. His father however spoke first. "We are expecting company shortly my son." Vortigern had this talk with his father enough times to know where it was going. Really. The man's desperation to have a daughter in law was just getting tiresome. That would be the death of him. Not his illness, but rather, this obsessive fixation on finding Vortigern a wife. "Father... " But as always, Gildas cut him off when his son held that tone. "It is a good friend of mine. Lord Rouland." Rouland. Why did that name sound familiar to Vortigern? He felt as if he had heard it before, but could not quite place it.

-------His thoughts were distracted by his father's next words. "And his niece accompanies him." Ah-ha! There it was! No wonder his father had not told him about this sooner. For if he had, then Vortigern would not have returned to the castle for days. "What of this Rouland and his niece?" Vortigern asked. It was not even his daughter, but his niece? That did not sound promising at all. "There is no time to explain. They will be arriving any moment now." Gildas motioned for the one servant left to aid him with his crown. "He is a good friend of mine Vortigern. I expect you to greet them respectfully and graciously." Vortigern braced himself. Waited for it... and waited... and... "And I expect you to strongly consider this proposal." And there it was again. King Gildas and Prince Vortigern stood in the grand hall. Word had reached them that the carriage had arrived and now they were just waiting for the visitors to come.

-------Vortigern was not looking forward to this. He never did when his father tried to play matchmaker, and failed every single time. But Vortigern hid all signs of displeasure. It was different when his father sent him somewhere with a proposal or when he was forced to greet the visitors upon arrival. This time, Gildas was with him. Watching him. And this limited Vortigern a great deal. Only making him look forward to this even less. Finally, the doors opened and Vortigern raised his head a bit. He was not eager to find out who this woman was. He doubted she was even a royal for if she had been, surely his father would have used such a fact to entice Vortigern into considering this proposal. He knew Gildas well enough to know that he had left it out on purpose; because she was probably no higher than a noble. Vortigern could make all of these assumptions, but nothing prepared him for the name that was called and the person he saw.

-------Lady Caitrin de Archer. He remembered that name, and remembered her face. Damn all that was holy in this world! He just looked at her, the shock so strong on the inside, but only a semblance of it revealed itself in the way his eye brows lowered in slight confusion. Confusion, and so much more displeasure than before. What was she doing her? Surely she... oh dear god. No. Bloody hell! Damn her! This was all her doing again! Vortigern felt the anger surge through him, for last they had parted ways, he never expected to see her again. And if it was at all possible, he loathed her this time more than before. "Ah, Lord Rouland!" His father's voice broke him out of this angered trance as the king took a few steps to embrace his friend. While Vortigern remained in position. Suppressing a glare at her. But the question of what the hell are you doing here screaming in his mind.

-------Vortigern wanted to scoff at her suggestion to educate him. Really. A woman, offering to teach him something? That was laughable. "There is nothing you can teach me, that I do not already know." Whether it was about her or not. He doubted she was charming. He found nothing charming about her. Perhaps it was because this encounter had been shrewdly organized by his family. Traitors. And due to that, he was entering with a bias against her. Because he refused to even consider someone lower than him. Most people were lower, but she definitely was. He decided not to say anything to flatter her. Since she clearly held enough confidence to take it in a way that Vortigern did not want her to. He was a prince! She would have to do more to earn his compliments rather than just showing up.

-------"I would rather not," he stated bluntly. "For so far, I have seen nothing to suggest you possess the slightest charm." All that he has seen, is reason for Naevia to see a physician for a mental affliction that has cause her to befriend such people. Ah well look at that. It seemed she was finally trying to be respectful... for once. "It is not your place at all." Again, her attempt at flattery, or perhaps mocking, was unappreciated. The more he spoke to her, the more infuriated he was by her. But of course, with them in the castle now, Vortigern could not lash out too much. For Gildas would hear about it. And that was yet another lecture the young prince of Sorelia would wish to avoid.

-------"Only time will tell if you have learned your lesson in respect." Vortigern would not suggest what would happen if she did not. "I warn you though, do not test my patience." It was not a friendly suggestion. It was more of a threat. "For I will be far less gracious if you carried on your current behavior when in the presence of the king." Vortigern knew he had not been gracious to begin with. And that using his father as an excuse, would only make his behavior against her more legitimate. Part of him hoped she would push him so that he could deny this proposal with a valid claim. The other part of him wondered if she would ever dare to.