(122-12-17) A Northman's Vigil (Part 1)
A Northman's Vigil (Part 1)
Summary: Daevon and Malcolm prepare Desmond for his vigil.
Date: Date of play (17/12/2015)
Related: http://gobmush.wikidot.com/log:122-12-17-a-small-request
Players:
Desmond..Daevon..Malcolm..

Daevon has word sent to Malcolm to meet them at the Sept. He's looking at Desmond, a little worried, a lot excited. "Are you certain about this?"

Desmond turns to look at Daevon, his whole face beaming. "I've rarely been more certain," he answers. "Thank you. Thank you!"

Malcolm does stop to change into his best doublet, the one with the little cape. he has his Braavosi blade on one hip and the fancy dagger he had at the tourney on the other. His expression is serious. "I ought amiss?"

Daevon smiles at that response. "This is certainly happening a lot faster than I expected." He says to Malcolm. "His Majesty, King Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, has decided to knight Desmond Snow, as reward for his brave actions during and after the tourney."

Desmond considers for a moment, and has the grace to look abashed. "I saw the opportunity," he says after a beat, "and I had to take it. I could've asked about my father, but…" he shakes his head. "No. I'll take it from his hand, or not at all."

Malcolm gives Desmond a big sunny grin and a manly squeese of the shoulder, "You are a lucky man indeed. The bond between a man and the one who knighted him is a strong one, akin to that of a foster father or uncle."

"To be knighted by the King himself, it is a great honour," Daevon says. "Few can lay that claim."

Desmond clasps Malcolm's shoulder firmly in response. "And now I'll be tied forever to the Targaryens," he responds. His gaze strays toward Daevon, his smile widening. "It's an honor I best live up to, Your Grace."

"I have never assisted with the vigil," Daevon admits. "I was not Knighted in a sept. Malcolm's the wiser here to tell what must be done and how to guide you."

Malcolm says, "I sat vigil myself and assisted with the two I knighted. It is meant to be a time of reflection on the duties and vitrues of a good knight. many knigghts devote themselves to the warrior, but it's not required. Daevon and I follow our own aspects and for a Northern Knight, I think it is best to focus on the vows and duties."

Desmond just bounces his gaze between Malcolm and Daevon, nodding attentively. "Aye. I.. well, I don't even know which one I'm supposed to bow to." He nods toward the Sept a little sheepishly. "I could do with all the help I can get. And then I'll go and sit another vigil in the Godswood, after."

"The King told him to sit vigil," Daevon says. "I think too often Knights focus solely on the Warrior and forget the other seven." He gestures to the statue of the warrior. "The Warrior represents martial prowess. He is our skill in battle, our ability to fight. He is prayed to for courage, or to grant victory. He is the one most Knights focus upon." He gestures to another. "The Father we pray to for justice. As a knight it is important that we are just in all that we do. The Smith, he is prayed to for strength, he's hard working, to make things, to keep on going, enduring." That's the three male figures covered. He does frown as Desmond mentions the Godswood. "Ah. That may not be a good idea." He looks to Malcolm, uncertainly. "Not tonight at least."

"The Mother is love, she is compassion. We must be like she is, taking care of those weaker than ourselves, protecting them, as the mother looks after all her children." Daevon says. "And she is mercy, forgiveness. The Maiden is innocence, chastity, and she keeps all those with such virtues safe. She's the protector of young women. And the Crone, she is wisdom. She is cunning. She provides guidance to those who pray for it. They are all every bit as important as the Warrior is. To simply fight, we are nothing more than brutes. A sword without a cause. We serve all the Seven, not just the Warrior." Of course he's only mentioned six. The Seventh, the Stranger remaining unspoken of.

Malcolm gives him and understanding look, "Aye, that's likely best. The Old Gods are best not crossed. There's a Godswood up on Raven Island, or a small one in one of those Wynds inside the city proper, but hard to find. My Starks mostly going to the Raven Island one. Best to wait until after though. It looks better for the king to be not obvious about it." He looks relieved that daevon is not making a fuss about the religious aspect.

Desmond nods his head quietly. "Of course," he says. "I'll go another night. My gods'll wait for their due, and I'll not insult any other man's Gods. I'd never offend -your- gods," he says to Daevon. He listens attentively at the descriptions of the three key male figures, bobbing his head a couple of times. He listens to the women with even greater attention, frowning tensely, looking up at the figures and back. Rubbing at the side of his neck, the huge man nods. "Your religion makes a bit of sense," he acknowledges. He looks over at Malcolm with a smile, nodding at the advice about the different Godswoods.

"So I go in and I sit all night and talk to your Gods, aye? I'll do that." He straightens further, squaring his shoulders, and looks to Daevon earnestly. "I mean to do this right," he assures the Targaryen. "I mean to be a proper knight."

Daevon nods. "Yes. And also think about Knighthood itself. Do you have questions, anything you'd like to ask? If I didn't think you would be a proper knight, I wouldn't be helping now."

Malcolm says, "A good knight needs all of these qualities. I think many men underestimate cunning in their focus on strength and Justice in their focus on courage and the like. So many forget our first duty is to protect the weak in their persuit of glory." He winks, "I think we all are fond of glory." He stalks forward to stand before the seventh figure, the Stranger. This veiled and androgynous looking cloaked figure has few candles and offerings in front of it. "Many of us like to forget the stranger, but the Stranger never forgets us. All swordsmen knight or not dance and flirt with him every time we lift our swords against another, but many look away, pretending that's not what they are doing." He gazes at the statue much as a lover might the Beloved. "All great swordsmen are in love with him a little, wether they admit it or not, and dance as fast as we can, eventually he catches us and leads us into the unknown." Then he turn, flashing them a crokked, sunny grin, his tone light, "Not today though." He thumps Desmonds shoulder, "Talk or meditate. Think seriously about what being a knight means to you." He flashes a grin at daevon, "It's true. You should have seen how he quizzed me about Loryn Tyrell when I made him a Ser.""

Desmond considers for a few moments, gazing at his hands. He raises them up, turning them over. Palm and then knuckle, knuckle and palm. "I've killed a lot of men," he says softly. "Sometimes I made them hurt." He looks directly at Daevon as he says this. "It was justice. I never enjoyed hurting a man. But it was /right/, sometimes. The only thing that could balance a scale." He spreads his hands, then closes them into fists. "How do we know what is right, Sers? How do we know that by protecting /this innocent/, today, we don't kill a dozen? How do we know that killing /this/ man, now, quickly, is the best thing to do?" He trails off. "That's my only question.

Daevon nods as the words of the stranger are spoken. But he adds nothing of his own, just looking at the statue. "There are those with far worse reasons to become a Knight than Loryn Tyrell. He is a good man. It isn't his all though." He looks at Desmond. "That is why we pray. And we trust in the seven to guide us. Ad we trust in ourselves to make the right decision."

Malcolm studies Desmond as the Northerner speaks, dark eyes intelligent, and expression non-judgemental. His Stormcoast lilt does not hide his seriousness, "It can be hard to tell sometimes. I think you have to weigh things as best you can in the moment. It is not fair to condemn your younger self for unforseen things that occured later. You make the best choice you can with what you know. That's all anyone can do really. Try to be a good man and do what is right and what is necessary even when though things are hard and when those things conflict…." He closes his eyes a momment, "Then we live with what we have done and try to do better."

Desmond looks between the two knights, then down at his hands. "A lot of blood," he says softly. "A lot of blood on these already. And there'll be a lot more before we're all through with swords." The thought doesn't seem to trouble him. He's stating a simple fact. Reaching out with his huge hands, he grasps at Daevon and Malcolm by the shoulders. His eyes are somber. "I'd given up becoming a knight before I met you," he tells Daevon. "You remember? You. It was you, told me I should be a knight. That I could do good again."He looks over at Malcolm. "And you've always treated me with respect. Like a knight ought to. You've never once been rude to me, or anything but kind." He looks between the two younger men. "Thank you. Both of you. I best be getting inside."

"I didn't expect it to happen so quickly," Daevon smiles at Desmond. "You really can accomplish anything when you set your mind to it."

Malcolm says firmly, and with utter certainty, "You CAN do good and you are a good and honest man."

Desmond smiles a little slyly at Daevon before turning into the Sept. "Mercenary. I know how to get paid, when the moment comes." He gazes up at the stone building, then squares his shoulders and walks inside.

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