forum The Soldier, The Poet, The King (closed)

Started October 06, 2023 by @ElderGod-yellowqueen

tune

Nicolas was not ready for the banquet. He was fully dressed, although to the dismay of his servants, he was wearing a forest green silk tunic, brown leather gloves, and basic leather pants rather than the ridiculous looking costume that was supposed to make him look like a 'king'. He wanted to show everyone that he did not see himself above his people, but rather that he was one of them. His advisors had tried to protest, claiming that he was supposed to look like he was above them because he was, but they couldn't go against the word of the king. The only thing showing his status as royalty was the beautiful, ancient sword tied around him; he didn't even want to have his crown on. Despite how simple his outfit was, his servants wouldn't leave his side for hours to try to make him as presentable and royal-like as possible. But the moment they left him alone he retreated to the royal gardens, desperate for some fresh air.

He knew that what he was doing was cowardly, hiding from everyone else, but he couldn't bring himself to face the other nobles of the land just yet. He really hoped the poet he had summoned would put them all in relaxed, agreeable moods. Nicolas had heard rumors of her talents from both beyond and within his castle walls, and what better way to begin a feast than with some fun entertainment to raise everyone's spirits?

He subconsciously rested a gloved hand against the hilt of the elegant sword tied around his waist, the cool metal seeping through the leather around his hand and providing a sense of comfort to course through him. One of his advisors had cautioned against bringing the sword to the banquet, worried that it would make the king seem hostile, or worse, like he was afraid of the nobles attacking him, but Nicolas stubbornly insisted on the sword remaining by his side. At this point in his life, he didn't necessarily give a damn about the lords' opinions, as long as they knew that he was an efficient ruler, and one not to be messed with.

Noticing that he had passed the same marble statue for the third time in a row, Nicolas decided to go back inside the castle, knowing that he should begin heading to the dining hall. As he walked through the corridors, he frowned as he passed by the paintings and artifacts that lined the walls. It felt wrong, having so many material objects when a lot of his people had nothing. He felt like a fraud, and for what seemed like the millionth time he wondered if this feast would even work. This was his last chance to unite the nobles and try to get their support. He hoped the choices he made, with how he looked, the entertainment, and everything in between, would make all of them more inclined to listen and follow him.

When he was just about to reach the dining hall, Nicolas took a deep breath, making a pleasant, warm smile appear on his face before turning the corner and approaching the doors.

Emmeline looked at the captain who approached her. She could spot it right away. She saw the insignia on his clothing. So this was the all terrifying captain. The king's right hand man, his sword. He didn't look like much. Then again, the same thing could likely be said about her. No one expected her to possess the amount of talent she had. Not with her cheap clothing and old lute strapped to her back. She had nothing to her name. Nothing. And yet here she was, invited to a party, the king's party of all places. She had amounted to more than anyone had ever thought she would. She only wished she could see the faces of all those who doubted her.

She smiled and inclined her head in respect to the captain. "Thank you, Captain Sandre. It's an honor to be here. I never imagined I would ever get a chance to sing at the palace. For the king, no less." It was an honor to sing for royalty. So few ever got the opportunity to perform for royalty. And now she would be one of those select few. She wondered what this would mean for her future, for her career. If one king were willing to invite her to the palace to perform, she wondered if others would as well. This might make her dreams of traveling the world come true. If this was the foot in the door she needed to get invited to other kingdoms and sing for all those who would listen to her.

She was getting ahead of herself now. She hadn't even performed yet. This could be a disaster and then no one would hire her after this. The king might hate her and think her music awful. And then her dreams would be squashed. Everything was riding on this night. She hoped she had picked the right songs to sing. She had tried to limit the vulgarity in them, but well, she was a bard, there was only so much she could censor.

"How is the crowd tonight?" She asked. She always liked to get a feel of her audience before she sang for them. That way she could make any last minute tweaks should it be needed.

(I am so sorry for taking so long, I hope this is an okay response)

(You're good. Everything looks great!)

(Sorry it’s so short. Figured I should give something rather than sit on it for forever.)

Alec smiles, “Not many people ever do.” He comments. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, the head of an eagle embossed on it. Small rocks and one or two tiny growls decorated it. It was a simple hilt, made for him by his sister. He could easily picture he king, thin fingers, carving the eagle into the metal after she heated it up enough. As well as sending out he son to go get some rocks from the river bank.

When she’d given him the beautiful blade her husband had forged the last time he’d been home, he had been elated. He’d practiced with the blade to get a feel for it. It was excellent quality and craftsmanship. The blade was light and flexible, it has a wonderful shine in the light and was easy to maintain.

“Right this way the king. . . He tilts his head slightly, a light frown gracing his features. He walks forward, past the woman, owing, “Your majesty. I thought you were in the dining hall already.”

(I took an unexpected hiatus for a bit, I'm sorry that it's not as long as it should be)

Nicolas blinked in surprise at seeing Alec right by the entrance, but he quickly relaxed. It was good to see a familiar, trustworthy face before walking into a room full of people who hated him.

"I was taking a quick stroll through the gardens," he replied a bit sheepishly to his captain. "I must have lost track of time…"

He trailed off when he looked past his right-hand man and his eyes landed on the woman behind him. His eyes brightened when he saw the top of what must've been a lute strapped to her back and he walked toward her.

"You must be tonight's entertainment!" he exclaimed warmly, holding out his hand to shake hers. "Your reputation precedes you, Miss. Yarrow. Thank you so much for coming."

Nothing could describe the odd combination of relief and tension Nicolas felt toward the bard. The outcome of the feast depended on how she could make an entire room of nobles at ease. He felt guilty for throwing this poor woman into a situation like this, but if the rumors that he had heard about her talents were true, then he had nothing to worry about. Right?