(121-04-21) The Knighting of Ser Kevyn Cockshaw
The Knighting of Ser Kevyn Cockshaw
Summary: Kevyn Cockshaw is knighted before the Seven.
Date: 21 April, 2014
Related: ??

The Starry Sept is the seat of the Faith of the Seven. The High Septon resides here, as do any number of clergy who study here or attend him and the faithful. Seven domes and seven towers make up the structure, all of them richly decorated with seven-pointed stars, carved or inlaid or painted, or in mosaics of tiles.

The largest dome, the worship area, is a heptagon like all the others, but much wider. The seven-pointed star is inlaid into the white marble floor in massive slices of highly polished semi-precious stones: amethyst and rosy quartz, jade and lapis, onyx, cat-eye and garnet. The soaring domed roof is painted a deep blue with glittering sparkles of mica mixed in, and hundreds of seven-pointed stars picked out in gold and silver leaf.

Each of the seven walls holds a statue, larger than life, of one of the gods. The Father, The Mother, The Warrior, The Maiden, The Smith, The Crone, The Stranger. They are painted wood, beautifully and realistically carved by artists of great skill. Their gowns and robes are leafed in gold and set with jewels, and their eyes are alabaster and jet, with irises of sapphire or emerald or deep brown citrine. The exception is The Stranger. His or her statue is plain, almost stylized, the face hooded and the robes painted glossy black with minute flecks of black dragonglass that make it glitter very faintly, like the most distant of stars.

There is an ornately carved and inlaid altar before each statue, for the faithful to pray, and light their candles.

The morning dawns bright and clear, the first warm rosy ways whisking away the dew and chill of the prior night. It cuts through the openings for light in the Starry Sept, which truely earns its name this day. The floors gleam with brilliance as the stones almost seem to glown under its touch, amethyst, quartz, jade, lapiz, and more reflecting a pool of light upon those who stand on them. It fills nearly every corner of the hexagonal room, illuminating its occupants. It is a good day to be knighted.

The word has gone out amid Oldtown, that Kevyn Cockshaw is to earn his spurs this day. Any who wish to come are welcomed to observe the proceedings, but for now they await the soon to be former squire's arrival. Ser Viggo Cockshaw stands in the shadow of the warrior, next to its alter with a knee bent and perhaps a prayer on his lips. Few could say they have seen him so fine as this day, armor gleaming and his moustache curled precisely. The three feathers of the Cockshaw house blazoned brightly at his breast.

Kevyn spent the night in vigil in the Sept. He's a devout lad and isn't doing this part of things, at least, half way. He emerges from one of the antechambers as the light of morning fully dawns, dressed in a plain white tunic and hose and looking rather grave and unsure of himself. Neither are particularly unusual looks for him, but this morning more than usual

"I should have known this would happen," says Keyte as she steps into the jewelled light of the sept, her skin illuminated where it is bared by the daringly fashionable Reach-style gown she dons. She's in red and gold today, perhaps a nod to the soon-to-be knight's house, or perhaps just the prettiest gown she could find — it actually belongs to her twin, but nobody knows that. (Except her sisters.) Someone's spent a long time taming her dark curls into a pretty set of braids, all twined around a golden circlet of roses with Valyrian steel accents on the occasional petal and thorn. If she looks a little pale, maybe it's just compared to the splendour in her attire, or from that bright reflected light inside the building.

Kesha gives her twin a sideways look as she steps into the sept beside her. I told you so it says. And just in case that isn't enough, because Keyte said something and she has to respond, she says, "I told you this would happen." She did! She's pretty sure, anyway. There was a lot of wine drunk that evening (shh). Her dress is not nearly so nicer as her dress that Keyte is wearing, but it's a lush green embroidered in a gold floral pattern that begins heaviest on the shoulder straps and down the V of the bodice under is begins to fade into a darker green down the skirt. It looks every inch a Tyrell garment. A few braids dress up her hair and tame it, but most fall in dark, luscious curls around her shoulders.

A small procession emerges from the Tower of the Warrior, crossing the floor of the Starry Sept single-file. Seven acolytes, each carrying a fine silver porringer filled with perfumed oil, precede a septa dressed in the robes of the Most Devout, demonstrating her station and the esteem with which the servants of the Seven regard knighthood. When the acolytes reach the Altar of the Warrior, they spread themselves out in an arc, Leire taking a prominent place before them. She lets her eye fall pointedly on Kevyn as he makes his pilgrimage through the sept.

Not everyone is decked out in finery on this auspicious occasion. At least one Maester is present, decked out in the typical drab robes of his station. Trailing some of the Tyrell spectators, he makes his way into the Sept heralded by a lively mix of chains jingling and his cane tapping, his long features stern.

Though she doesn't actually know many of the people here, nor does she know the young man about to get knighted, Elionys is just nosey enough to drive her into attending the knighting. It's with a pair of guards that she enters and quickly finds a place off to the side to stand and observe.

Dropping down onto the shoulder of the warrior, standing tall in all it's glory, surprisingly having managed to find its way inside is a large, golden eagle. Not too concerned with being spotted, it allows its deathly gaze to creep along the sept, looking around at those residing, as if waiting. It stretches its wings idly for a moment, tilting its head over to the left slightly as it studies those of which whom would enter the sept to attend the knighting.

At the sound of Kevyn's approach, Viggo rises to regard his squire with a look that struggles to not be a smile. Then he looks at Leire and can't help but smile. It is only then, he turns back to watch the young Cockshaw approach.

Keyte tosses a mirror-image look sideways to Kesha, The Always Right. "Mhmm," she murmurs, not at all in need of being reminded, thankyouverymuch. She finds some appropriate place to stand and spectate, conspicuously close to the front of those gathering. She has her twin with her to duck behind if needs be.

Kevyn meets the Septa's eyes, for just a moment, though he quickly drops his gaze as he strides toward the altar of the Warrior. He tries not to spend too much time gawking at the others who've gathered, though of course he spots the Tyrell girls. And both beams and turns rather red. He then clears his throat and focuses on the floor. He stops in front of the altar of the Warrior, inclining his head respectfully to the Leire and the acolytes, before kneeling. He tries not to look up once he's done that, though he can't help but raise his eyes at the eagle. Maybe it's a sign, though of what he couldn't begin to say.

Keyte clearly does need to be reminded, at every turn, lest she forget what this means and how she got here in the first place. So sayeth Kesha. The slightly less glamorous Tyrell twin merely rolls her eyes as Keyte gets as close to the front as she can. At least she doesn't heckle. Her gift to you, Kevyn.

Only once Kevyn reaches the altar does Leire's attention shift from him to the congregants gathered before the Warrior's altar, proclaiming ceremoniously, "The Seven recognize the vigil sat this night under the Warrior's watchful eye. Who would confer the honor of knighthood upon this man?" The acolytes fanned out behind her are doing their best to reflect her propriety, but one of the boys near the end of the row is similarly taken with the Tyrell twins, blushing and nearly spilling his little dish of oil as they move closer to the front of the group.

Jacsen watches the whole proceeding go down with a fair amount of stony reverence. It's supposed to be a solemn, serious ceremony after all.

Dipping in a respectful bow as Leire proclaims the opening of the ceremony, Viggo draws his blade and answers, "I would, Septa. Here and now under the eyes of Seven, I stand to bestow knighthood upon this man." His voice rings out, low and loud in the sept.

Did that Septa just call Kevyn a man? Keyte looks mildly surprised for a very quick moment, blinking rapidly before she ducking her head to hide the rest of that expression. She still seems to be having trouble with how grown-up this all is, and she reaches to tug on her twin's arm for support.

A man? That is unexpected. Kesha pats her twin's arm in sympathy. Or something. There, there.

The eagle looks down, gazing back down at the soon to be knight with a glint of.. Reassurance in its eyes? Well, that's all it could really be described as. Fluttering its wings slightly once again, it looks away at its surroundings once more.

When Viggo answers her query, Leire looks to him, spreading her hands in a gesture of invitation. "Then in the eyes of the Seven and your peers, I bid you administer the oath of knighthood upon Kevyn of House Cockshaw." She takes a step back, clasping her hands in front of herself and watching with attentive interest.

Kevyn meets Viggo's eyes, very briefly, before fixing his eyes back on the altar of the Warrior. He stays kneeling there, trying to tune out the eyes of the holy personages upon him, not to mention the crowd. Unclear how good a job he's doing of it.

Unbidden, Jacsen suddenly looks up from his vantage point while leaning on his cane. He stares up at the eagle and shoots a rather sharp grin off in its direction.

The grin is…Slightly creepy.

Between creepy old maesters, random eagles, and acolytes and their almost-spillages, Keyte's starting to look very pale indeed. She clings to her twin, taking deep breaths, not at all comforted by that there-there pat. But it's the thought that matters. After a brief look about the place, she decides it's probably best just to watch Kevyn, and maybe Viggo and Leire a bit.

Viggo's dark eyes are solemn, but proud as the meet his squires and his head is inclined in a briefly approving nod. Blade drawn, Viggo swings it over Kevyn's kneeling heaad like a pendulum, briefly addressing the crowd. "Today you bear witness to this man's vows. Today the Seven bear to the vows of a knight." Lifting the blade in the flats of his palsm, he extends it towards the statue of the warrior, bending his head reverently. After a silent moment has passed, he takes his place in front of his squire.

The blade swings downward in a sudden gleaming arc, only to touch Kevyn's right shoulder gently. "In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave, do what must be done with an unflinching heart." Then the motion is repeated with the left. "In the name of the Father I charge you to be just, do not turn a blind eye to the world for wanting." And back it cuts to the right, "In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent, raising your blade to defend those who cannot do so for themselves."

Viggo's eyes lift a moment from his squire to glance towards the Tyrell sisters before he continues, again laying the blade on Kevyn's shoulder. "In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women….The fair, the noble, the common, and the old are in your charge." Next he touches his squire's hand, voice booming. "In the name of Smith I charge you to be strong, face life and death and hold your blade high." Most delicately, he lifts the blade to press the flat against Kevyn's temple with the razor's edge shining in the brilliant light. "In the name of the Crone I charge you to have wisdom, choose your deeds and actions and know when to council and when to kill." And finally, Viggo lifts the blade to very carefully touch the chest, just above the heart. His eyes are dark and solemn as he bids, "In the name of the Stranger I charge you to accept righteous death and avenge when it is not." The words echo soundly in the sept, the silence following them abrupt as he awaits Kevyn's replay. "Do you swear it?"

As Viggo cuts slashing arcs through the air with his blade, delivering the vows of knighthood with his impassioned speech, Leire bears witness on behalf of the Seven, touching the seven-pointed star worn at the hollow of her throat reverently. When each of the Seven have been invoked, she looks from Viggo to Kevyn with an expectant smile.

Shifting its gaze, the eagle stares down towards Kevyn, focusing on him in a almost cold manner. Its gaze now is less reassuring, more of a expecting gaze, waiting for an answer and possibly even debating how it will react to said answer.

Kevyn does look up as Viggo begins to recite the vows, focus more on the elder Cockshaw than the Seven now. "By the Seven and by my life, I swear," he says, managing to keep his voice from shaking. The words full of solemnity.

Kevyn might not flinch at the flashing arc of his knight's sword, but Keyte sure does. What in the name of all that is holy?! She lets go of an audible sigh of relief as it touches down softly upon the man, relaxing her hold a little on her twin.

"Oh, honestly," Kesha rebukes of her twin in a very quiet whisper. What did you think was really going to happen here? No on is slicing Kevyn at his own knighting. Viggo probably isn't even drunk. Yet. "You aren't getting out of things that easily."

"If he's not drunk, he's not doing it right." Jacsen's voice comes in a sour, whispered scoff. The Tyrells' Maester's grin widens.

Kevyn's solemnity is accepted with a short nod of Viggo's head, dark eyes holding the younger Cockshaw's gaze. "Then, By my hand, with a warm heart and with the blessings of your house, here beneath the eyes of the Seven, I dub thee Ser Kevyn Cockshaw. Dolphinsbane." The last is said with a little bit of a wink, but the broad span of his Ser could not be more proud.

"Oh, stop that," Keyte whispers back a little less quietly than her twin, likely drawing attention to them. She glances worriedly at the maester for his contribution, before switching her attention back to the proceedings with a most apologetic expression bestowed upon — the Septa, it seems, is safest? It can't last long, for as the squire is pronounced knight, she emits another sound louder than she really means to be: a bright, brief laugh. DOLPHINSBANE.

Leire steps forward when Kevyn is at last declared a knight by his sponsor, moving to stand at Viggo's side. She addresses those gathered with a smile. "I bid you join me in a prayer on behalf of Ser Kevyn Cockshaw." Turning her gaze upon Kevyn, she intones, "We ask the Father to guide him in balancing the scales of justice. We ask the Mother to impel him to protect the vulnerable and defend the helpless. We ask the Warrior to bolster his fortitude when it is tested. We ask the Maiden to bestow her favor upon him. We ask the Smith to armor him in his noble mettle. We ask the Crone to shine her light upon the righteous path." Finally, she concludes, "And we ask the Stranger to ever remind him of the value of a life." With a devout skyward glance to seal the prayer and a moment of silence for pious effect, she gestures for the first of the acolytes to approach.

Kesha just lets Keyte draw attention all be herself, like she's totally innocent in all of this and didn't provoke her at all. Well, the laughter at least is entirely not her fault. Not that she doesn't snicker at the given moniker, just that she does is from behind her hand, like it's a secret. Or at least like she's trying not to openly mock. Because what follows is the Septa's words and joint prayers, you see, and it would not do to be giggling during that. She school's her expression to something that is serious and hopefully devout looking.

The eagle blinks, gazing to Viggo and then back to Kevyn before opening up its left wing a reaching in with its break and grabbing hold of one of its feathers. With a quiet flap, it pulls one of its golden feathers out, holding it between its beak before leaning its head down and releasing it, allowing it to fall and flutter down towards the newly knighted Kevyn. With a blink it opens its wings before it hops up and begins flapping as it takes flight indoors, headed towards the doors. While most would expect the bird to just slam into the door, the doors find themselves pushed gently open by a large, muscular man, with scars all along his arms and even a whiplash on the back of his head. It wouldn't be hard for most to note that this is the one that was on the pillory, and it'd be even easier to recall his name, Gromm. But alas, rather than making his way inside, he simply raises his left arm and allows the eagle to perch itself on it before turning on his heels and setting off. Seems like interesting timing, no?

Dolphinsbane? Kevyn crooks his brows up at Viggo. Really? The laughing from the gallery just reinforces his skepticism. He flushes. The Cockshaws will speak of this. Later. The eagle distracts him, anyhow. His eyes go up, following its flight about the Sept as the Septa intones her prayers. Eyes wide, as if slightly awed by the bird's behavior. And trying to ponder what to make of it. He can't seem to come to any conclusions, though. So he just closes his eyes, and tries to add his own prayers up to the gods.

The acolytes approach Leire one at a time, taking turns at holding out their silver porringers that she might dip her fingertips in each of the seven perfumed oils. She anoints Kevyn with each one in turn, first on the brow, in the name of the Crone, then each of the palms in the names of the Smith and the Warrior, the eyes for the Father and the Mother, over the heart for the Stranger, and upon the lips for the Maiden. She is so focused on her task as to miss the the eagle's flight, mistaking Kevyn's rapt upturned gaze for piety and rewarding him with a smile. "I bid you rise, Ser Kevyn Cockshaw."

Viggo smiles ruefully at his squire, dark eyes twinkling with good natured mirth. They can sepak of it later all that his former squire wishes. He too follows the flight of the eagle, lifting his brows. The feather must certainly be a blessing of some kind. Sheathing his sword, he bows his head and adds his prayers.

"Woe to the Dolphins. Woe." Jacsen mouths. It's a quiet thing, and the jingling of his chains make more noise than his whisper does.

Keyte clears her throat, bowing her head to a) pretend piety throughout Leire's prayers and b) hide her face after her inappropriate laughter. (Sorry.) No doubt she would set to laughing again if she heard Maester Jacsen's latest quip, so its probably best that she didn't.

(Sorry not sorry).

Despite what snickering a byname of Dolphin's bane may bring another knight in attendance is currently keeping back where he can watch both squire and Ser Cockshaw, the black of his clothing helping in the shadow light. There's a brief glance to the door, before his head bows in the quiet words of the prayer. Quillian keeps his look down, until the young squire is bid rise. And only then will he get a shout of mild praise and clapping. It's not so solemn-but well.

Fuck it.

Kevyn blinks and turns his eyes back to the Septa once the eagle has returned to his master. He holds still for the annointing. He's a polite young knight like that. When she's done, he inclines his head, brushing his fingers down to pick up the fallen feather. With it between his fingertips, he stands. To rise a knight. The shout of praise makes him flush again, but he cant'e help but look a little proud. "Thank you, Septa. I pray I won't disappoint the Seven too much."

(Um, belated excuse me, was totes sorry.)

Viggo gestures at a servant who steps forward from the shadows carrying a try with objects of silver and leather settled upon it. "I think you will carry your promiess well, Ser Kevyn," he says to his cousin with a smile. "To celebrate your rise, first a belt to hold your blade." Taking the tooled leather, decorated with a pattern of feathers for their house, he offers the sword belt to Kevyn.

Leire seems as pleased by the shouts of praise and support as Kevyn does when he rises. Her part done, she joins the acolytes standing at the base of the Warrior's altar, watching as Viggo bestows the young knight with his new sword belt.

Keyte does not clap. Or cheer. She does smile. Is that appropriate? Surely moreso than laughing was. She flushes faintly at all the fuss Quillian puts up for the newly-anointed knight.

The Maester in attendance however, cheers, loudly. "/Hail/ Ser Kevyn Cockshaw, Bane of Dolphins!" There's a tiny, quiet aside as he whispers now, 'and roaches.' Jacsen's chains jingle as he applauds.

Kevyn eyes the feathers on the belt, then the one between his fingers. This will all only make him think harder on the business with the eagle, no doubt. But for now, the feather is just slipped into the pocket of his tunic, and he takes the belt. Looping it carefully on. "It will well and goodly made, Ser. I thank you."

"Wear it proudly, Ser," Viggo bids with a smile so wird it cracks a the corners of his eyes. "And these… it is not tradition, but you have both earned them and they will suit you." This time, he plucks a pair of silvered spurs from the tray to offer the new knight. On each spur prong is a small dolphin, crafted elegantly and unobtrusive unless one knows to look for them. "Hail Ser Kevyn Cockshaw!"

Quillian grins from where he stands, now moving further into the light and towards Kevyn. "Aye, Hail Ser Kevyn Cockshaw!" sentiment echoed. Sadly though he brings no gifts, unless a Dornish Princess in one's manse counts as a fine gift to give. Still- Quillian turns his attention briefly to Viggo. "He earned it, Ser. And I cannot say that there are more deserving men in Oldtown. If I were to-it would be a falsehood."

Kevyn looks down at the spurs. Grinning broad at first, flattered for the gift…of dolphins. That makes his smile quirk, and he gives Viggo another loft of his brows. But it's good-humored. "Thank you, cousin," he says simply. The spurs are taken and held in his off hand, while the other is extended to Viggo to clasp.

Whilst others are bestowing upon the new knight their regards, Keyte uncurls her arm from her twin's, murmuring softly, "I think I need some fresh air." She intends to slip outside and get some, quietly making her way past the assembled toward the door.

Dark eyes dancing with kind mirth, Viggo continues to grin at his former squire. The lift of his brows matches the young Cockshaws amiably. "You are welcome, cousin," he offers, giving the lad's hand a strong clap.

"Take deep breaths, sister," Kesha advises her twin after Keyte untangles their arms. "Don't get cornered out there," she adds over her shoulder. YOU KNOW WHAT SHE MEANS.


These events sometimes have ceremonial wine. And that's where Jacsen goes. On a valiant, cane-hobbling quest.

Kevyn claps Viggo's shoulder arm once more after they've shaked on it. "I'll try not to make too poor a showing of myself, so you don't get a poor reputation. Moreso," the former squire says with a grin. He scans the crowd. Eyes brushing, and lingering for a moment, over the Cockshaw girls. Though it's another face he seeks out. "I should find my father. I'm told we have much to talk on, now that I have my spurs." He doesn't sound exactly like he's looking forward to it.

"None that I haven't earned myself," Viggo replies with a laugh, clapping the lad on the shoulder in turn. It is hard enough to shake him a little. "Moreso, you mind your own." It's half a warning, if mostly joking. "Aye. You should, and others. Go change and see to your deeds, Ser Kevyn Cockshaw."

Leire approaches the Cockshaw men, offering her congratulations to Kevyn just before he departs. To Viggo, she remarks, "I can think of a handful of my brothers and sisters of faith who would do well to adopt a measure of your showmanship into their own services. You, too, have done an honor to the Warrior this morning. I shall light a candle in your name." As the congregants begin to disperse, the acolytes do too, peeling off from the altar and marching single file back to their dormitories where their other duties await.

Mouth crooking in a toothy smile, Viggo bows his head at Leire's praise. "Put them on a horse at a tourney and I am certain they would learn, Septa," he offers good nauredly. "I have just granted another hand to his passage of deeds. House Cockshaw and I thank you for your beautiful words, truely the Seven were brought to this place today." Reaching out, he moves to take her hand and bow over it as is proper and respectful. Then, he too takes his leave.

A glance is given Kevyn briefly, before he is clearing his throat. "congratulations, Ser." to Kevyn, as he gets the chance, before the man passes by. And there he turns and looks towards where Viggo stands. There a motion is given to the man, before he is coming within range. "A moment of your time, Ser-when you have the chance?" Hopefully he will snag the Cockshaw as he leaves.

Viggo says, "Aye, I've a moment now," says Viggo, gesturing at Ser Quillian with a smile. He moves towards the door still, suggesting he man ought move wih him as he leaves. Come."

"Aye, I've a moment now," says Viggo, gesturing at Ser Quillian with a smile. He moves towards the door still, suggesting he man ought move wih him as he leaves. Come.

"Good." Quillian says, as he maneuvers to come alongside and walk closely with Ser Viggo. One hand out and a pat given to the man's shoulders. "I've some things to discuss with you." added as both slide out of the sept.
Viggo has disconnected.

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