Cassius Montagu

[sirwilliamcaldwell]

Rubbing Elbows | Will & Cassius

[cassiusmontagu]

sirwilliamcaldwell

I do no require advice from you …

A wiser man would have left after such a comment from the last dragon rider, but Will was often a fool (and he was especially when he was sipping on the Queen’s strongest ales). He did not hear the tone nor saw the look, but instead only focused on what Cassius had said. And he wanted to laugh outright. It was, perhaps, a good thing that he did not.

Did not require his advice? Will thought, Does he not realize that when it came to wooing women, Cassius was even more hopeless than Lysander?

He wasn’t especially approachable, standing silently in the dark with a scowl. Will had seen brave women try to approach him, before. They’d hoped to decorate the arm of Aragoth’s most powerful man, but he’d never encouraged any of them and now his reputation had deferred even the most persistent ladies until he was generally left completely alone.

Didn’t he realize that all he had to do, was be a little more friendly and approachable and he’d have women throwing themselves at his feet?

If Will did not love the thrill of the case, he would have been envious.

But Will was also convinced that all Cassius needed was a little push. So he ignored his first comment altogether. He didn’t give up as easily as others (in fact, Will rarely turned back once he’d set his mind on something, even when everyone else told him it was folly. It would likely be his undoing someday). “Everyone dances.” He said, “You just need to wait for the right one. For you: something soft; something slow.”

Will chuckled when Cassius asked him what he would do … and what came next. “And then … nothing.” He said, although there was a mischievous look in his eye. “Everyone knows my flirtations are fleeting.” Although that was his main trouble: not everyone did know. “Well, in all cases but one. But she is not here tonight.” He thought immediately of Rose as he spoke. She was the one woman who had refused him … again and again and again and again. She was stubborn, but he was determined. One day, she’d say yes.

And one day, he’d once told Lysander, he would marry her.

Will sighed when he said that he did not wish to interrupt Guinevere, “If you spend all of your life waiting for the perfect moment, you’ll wait forever.”

Cassius couldn’t prevent the scowl that spread over his features as Will spoke of Cassius as someone inclined towards soft and slow.  He did not try to conceal it, either.  Of course, Will was right and Cassius knew it, but the marriage of these two notions in any kind of association with himself was not especially welcome.  Cassius preferred to be ferocious: it kept most people from approaching him and that was, in general, a desirable quality.

“Not everyone dances,” said Cassius, stubbornly, flicking sea-blue eyes towards his one-time squire and narrowly preventing a harrumph.  He could perfectly picture Guin turning him down for a dance - or, worse still, saying yes simply out of duty and suffering through it till at long last the painful moment was over.  He wouldn’t part her from her smiles for the world.

His look was sharp and, at last, he inclined his head.  “Good,” he said, turning again to scan the crowd.  “See that it stays that way.  Your attentions to the Beaumont girl, for instance...Never let me hear of it growing into anything more.  More to the point,” he added.  “Never let Lady Beaumont hear of it.”  Avelina was not known for her forgiving disposition, particularly when it came to her children.

Cassius’ sigh was heavy as Will noted there was one who did to strike his fancy casually, and sucked in on his teeth.  A part of him wished to extricate himself entirely from this situation, this knowledge, this moment...and another aspect whispered that he should warn him off.  After all, he feared Will might mean Cordelia Arrington.  That girl, if Cassius was not very much mistaken, was trouble.

Affront percolated in Cassius’ gut.  He wanted to cast out a caustic one-liner and march away, but what was worse...Will was right.  And, far worse than that, he sounded a mite too like his namesake in that moment.  Glancing down, Cassius peered into the liquid surface of his alcohol before turning back to Will.  “Yet, you do not take your own advice,” Cassius noted, sharply.  Perhaps, if he played his cards right, Will would leave and Cassius could return to his quiet (dark) corner in peace...

[cassiusmontagu]

Before the Purge...

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.

He raises his hand slowly, tentatively.  Something in his heart crunches sickly, squelching with bloody footfalls through his bloodstream.  It is a collapse and he is gutted by it.  “I can’t do this,” he bites out, but her hand on his arm gives a gentle squeeze.

He turns to look upon her, golden and bright, her limpid eyes fixed upon his.  “Cassius,” Rowena breathes, tears forming in her eyes.  “Please.  I need your help.”  The princess moves to stand before him, cupping his face in her hands.  His eyes close, feeling the warmth of her soft flesh seeping into his veins.  “Please.  I-I’m afraid.”

His eyes flash open, again, drinking in her gaze, the trail of a single silver tear down her cheek.  “There has to be another way.  These people are innocents.”

“If there were another way, I’d take it.  I’d take it again and again.  The lives of these few people - who are sick and like to die, anyway - will save millions by their sacrifice.  Besides,” she adds, softly.  “They’re not innocents, not really.  I’ve had all of them taken from the prisons.”

“Truly?”

Rowena nods.  “Every last one.”  She leans her brow against his.  He feels the swell of her breathing against his cheek and closes his eyes again, once more extending his hand.  He doesn’t see the victims cower, but he feels them die.  For a moment, he is each of them, locked inside their minds, their bodies.  Life seeps slowly from them, shrinking up, shriveling, shrieking.  Fading away.  Energy buzzes in his head as it slips from his victims, their faces and skin growing grey, their eyes pale and filming over as one by one them crumble lifeless to the ground.  Life after life he drains, his skin is too full, his heart too heavy, and for every tear that trails down his face, another life ends.

“More,” whispers Rowena, clinging to him.  “More, more.”

This.  Here.  This is true power.  It howls in his brain, ravages his heart.  He is alight, he is aflame, he is trembling with power.  He has never felt more ready; he has never felt more ill.  Abomination, he thinks.  I am the very thing I once swore to kill.  But he does not stop.  He kills them all.

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Before the otherness came

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The love, the dark, the light, the flame

[cassiusmontagu]

Flowers In Fire | Cassius & Helena

[cassiusmontagu]

helenagodiva

“Pacific yes,” She agreed, “And uneventful. Days and weeks and months and years blended together there.” There was hardly anything that would distinguish one time from the next. Her memories of her time there were nonlinear and fragmented. She spend most of it too weak to leave her bed and she’d stray in and out of consciousness – the only way to tell what was real and what was not was to apply logic to it. Her dreams sometimes felt more vivid than when she was awake and even those she had trouble piecing together. The only moments, the waking moments when she was strong enough to sit up in bed or even go for walks along the shoreline with Aurora were the most clear … the most eventful. A handful of times she had had noble visitors from Old Shore and of course, Cordelia had come every few years to see her, too. 

“I wasn’t unhappy,” She said, quickly, suddenly aware that perhaps she sounded bitter or ungrateful. Because she wasn’t. She’d prayed and hoped that she’d grow stronger again and she had. There was no use in lamenting over lost time. So many had not been so lucky. So many had perished before their time. And she had just gotten her’s back.

“Yes, I have a few memories.” She admitted, “But I was such a small child then.” She felt she couldn’t trust the judgements that she had made when she was young and naive. She didn’t realize just how young and naive she was still. “Once, when I was six or seven, I was supposed to be asleep, but I snuck out of bed. I’d climbed to the top of one of the towers and I stood there for a long time, watching the heavens and the dragons and their riders who I thought were protecting us. He found me, hours later, when the sun was starting to rise in the east. ‘You’re supposed to be asleep’ he’d said. I was afraid he was going to scold me and send me back to bed, but he didn’t. He just smiled down at me and then looked up to the sky and said ‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’ And then he told me the story of Alexandir Godiva V and his brother. And afterwards he did send me to bed.”

She smiled softly at the memory. Everything had been so much simpler then. Everyone had been so much happier. She knew it was pointless to wish that things were different: it could drive you mad – thinking about what could have been. She wished her parents were alive. She wondered what they would have said, now? Would they have believed her uncle capable of such a thing?

“All of my memories of him are like that. I don’t remember seeing him often but … when I did, he would tell me stories. Stories of knights and riders and dragons and kings. I know my father was very fond of him. I know he loved him very much. But love, I think, can blind us.” 

Even as she said this, she did not realize that she, too, was a victim of this. True that time and distance had separated her from her sister, but she still, even now, could see the sort of Queen she had become. She was blinded, also, by her scheming relatives. She’d only been thinking of the dragonriders themselves and how all of Aragoth had loved and honored them … only to be betrayed.

Cassius inclined his head.  He understood well enough the kaleidoscopic shifts of time: chaotic, rumbling, confused; moments fused with eternity and years washed almost entirely away.  Memory was a strange thing, like wisps of smoke bending heavenward, they ducked and rambled, drifting and swirling as indecision in their ascent.  “My childhood was not dissimilar,” he replied, softly, but he meant this only in the sense that his childhood had seemed to close in on itself, one day folding into the next, the next, the next...  

He’d loathed his childhood, frigid and desolate in the far north, high up amongst the magisterial mountains that ringed Blaminster.  Desperately poor, he’d hardly eaten, it seemed, and shivered in the icy air.  His nights he passed, not so much sleeping, as wondering whether starvation or freezing would kill him first - no if, but rather a wretched when scrawled upon the blurry slate of his future.  

Yet, for all the misery he’d endured there, they felt almost fond for all the promise they held: If I’d put crossed that threshold or taken that alternate path...for memory played the cruelest trick of all.  No matter the time that passed, the Purge loomed in his mind, an Armageddon of dragonflame that wreathed the world, searing and unending.  He’d felt every slash and every stab, but none had cut him down, Rowena cursed magic sealing each wound before death could steal his soul away to the Pit.  Yes, Blaminster seemed now a mere week, yet the Purge seemed to have lasted year upon year upon year, when the reality had been entirely different.

He nodded when she assured him that her time had been pleasant and he nodded sociably.  But his interest was more sharply kindled when she spoke of her memories.  He wondered, too, but did not quite wish to ask: if she remember Alexandir before he left, did she also remember anything of the Purge?  ‘Who I thought were protecting us...’  The words were a slap, a pang that seized his innards and clutched them painfully.  Still, he listened, intently.  He, too, had once been a child who, with the other children, had clambered to the nearest edge that he might peer off into the distance, watching the glorious scales glisten in the heat of the sun.

Cassius glanced down, thinking of Alexandir in those happy days, proudly recounting to his niece the memories of his ancestors passed down by long generations.  In those days, they had been friends, speaking and laughing together often.  If Cassius had only paid Alexandir more heed and Rowena less, the world might still be a brighter place.

“He always had a way with the turn of phrase,” said Cassius, intent to remain non-comital.  If anyone could convince Rowena to show mercy, it was Helena.  Cassius was not about to do anything to jeopardize that opportunity, no matter how slight.  More likely, still, in his own experience, Rowena would convince Helena even in that scenario.

‘Love, I think, can blind us.’

Despite himself, Cassius chuckled: a sarcastic sound from deep in his throat and arched his brows.  “Yes,” he replied, his voice sharper than he’d intended as he cast his cobalt gaze upon her.  “It can.”  Rowena, herself, seemed a mistress of that art.  She was fooling Helena just as expertly as, once, she’d done to him.  He pitied the princess, really: if she ever learned the truth, she would know that the only family she had left had slaughtered all the rest.  That was a cruel truth.  And, bitter irony that it was, Cassius had little doubt Helena would imagine Cassius was speaking of the dragonriders rather than of her own sister.  

Still, there was some advice he might offer her.  “I’ve learned, Your Grace, not to trust it.  Better to cut out your heart than to suffer its lying presence.”  It was good advice, he told himself, and advice he’d followed for years: yet advice he seemed no longer capable of heeding.  Guinevere had ripped all his defenses down without even trying.

[cassiusmontagu]

Name: Cassius Montagu  - (Richard Armitage) - from Robin Hood (BBC)

Age: (36)  

Relationships: (Intended Fiancée:) Lady Guinevere Fontaine

Description: Fifteen years ago, Cassius was young, inexperienced, and captivated by the beautiful new Queen and was easily corrupted by her soft words. When Rowena approached him as a damsel in distress, saying that only Dragon Riders had the ability to kill her, Cassius didn’t hesitate when she said she needed them all eliminated. Armed with her dark magic, which made Cassius and his dragon more powerful than any of the others, he was able to single handedly destroy the entire fleet of them for his Queen. Since then, Cassius has been the Queen’s right hand and most trusted advisor. While peace has been easily maintained since her rule, Cassius is constantly in search of the last dragon eggs before they fall into a Rider’s hands and hatch.

TAKEN BY KATE AA.

Full Name:  Cassius Montagu

Age/Birthday:  36

Class/Occupation:  Dragon Rider

Hometown:

Relationships:  Queen Rowena Godiva (liege/previous interest), Lady Guinevere Fontaine (interest), Rhaegar (dragon), William DeGrey (deceased best friend), Charles DeGrey (last surviving Dragon Rider/deceased best friend’s brother), Roran DeGrey (unknown fellow Dragon Rider/deceased best friend’s son), Arya (hatchling)

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Their family, if had?

Death?

Ten words/phrases you associate them with (don’t have to be adjectives):

If a book was written about their life, what would the title be?

Portrayal:  Richard Armitage

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Characters name:  Cassius Montagu

Age:  36

Occupation (if any):  Dragon Rider

History/Family Information:  Cassius never thought he’d come to much.  He was the only surviving child of his pathetic family and a part of him though he’d be the last – die alone, unremembered, unsung.  Cassius was nothing in his own estimation until the day he met Will DeGrey.  Cassius’ town had an annual festival wherein they would present children to the Dragon Riders, hoping against hope that perhaps one such child would hatch an egg and become, themselves, a Dragon Rider.  Most years, his sad village managed to produce none and Cassius never thought he’d be the one to change the trend.

The Dragon Riders appeared first, great horned shadows that descended from the sky, massive claws boring into the fresh earth as the dragons folded gargantuan wings around themselves and their Dragons dropped to the ground.  Cassius had seen this many times over, felt the heat rising from the creatures and the felt the battering of sizzling gusts which spasmed from every beat of leathern dragon wings.  Some nights, he would drift to sleep with images of the immense beasts blazoned upon the backs of eyelids, but still he never imagined that anything might change.

Cassius was fifteen when it finally did.  He stood towards the back, watching smaller boys crowding around the dragon whose golden scales glittered in the sunlight.  She was small, for a dragon, and young yet her eyes seemed ancient, head bending towards the press.  Behind her, carts bobbed and jostled, hastening to catch the dragon, even in her slow descent.  Visenya, she was called, and she had two new eggs in need of Riders to awaken them.  Cassius had seen dragon eggs before, huge, scaled things that required two hands to hold securely, graced with the colors that would someday show on the young dragon’s scales.  He pictured what Visenya’s own egg might once have looked like, all gilding and scarlet.

Visenya and her Rider looked suddenly towards one of the carts as a young man bounded out and turned back to the tented trolley to cradle something in his arms.  Every neck craned  to see what his precious cargo might be till the sound of dragon music filled the air, a hatchling’s shrill call that reverberated down every spine and set the hairs at the base of the neck on edge.  The young man, who had to be Cassius’ same age, was introduced as the newest Dragon Rider, William DeGrey, and he encouraged everyone to draw near, so test their luck and see if a dragon might not hatch for them, too.  As the press surged towards the eggs, Cassius hung back.  Catching his eye, William DeGrey waded towards him.

“Why not try your hand at it?” he suggested.

Cassius shook his head.  “I’ve seen plenty of these carts pass through, as a boy.  Nothing has ever happened.”

“Not the right dragon, then,” he’d responded with a slow smile.  His eyes were bright blue, his hair chocolate, and there was some adventure behind his eyes.  “You’ve never seen these eggs before – they didn’t exist. What could it possibly cost you to try?  It doesn’t pay to let chances slip between your fingers.”

“I’m not the stuff of Dragon Riders.”

William laughed at that.  “I didn’t think so, either,” he admitted.  “But we’re not the judges of that.  Dragons are.  Give them a chance to choose you.”  The hatchling’s head snaked out from between the Rider’s arms to gaze at Cassius, horns pressing forward towards him as slitted eyes narrowed in the light.  “Unless that isn’t what you want.”

Cassius gazed steadily at the tiny dragon, whose own head tilted allowing light to splash across hard scales.  Gurgling, the dragon turned then to look towards the cart, directing all their attention there.  Cassius’ blue eyes slid to the awning under which the dragon eggs lay unchanged.  The closest egg was cobalt, sunlight streaming down upon it, but it was the further one that caught Cassius’ attention.  From this distance, it might have been taken for a shadow: the egg was obsidian with only the faintest traces of gold augmenting the edges of scales.  It seemed almost to sing from where it was displayed in the corner.  The gawking crowd fawned over the bright indigo but they all seemed almost to die away as Cassius looked.  The air was a tense cord, plucked to fill the void with a the dull rumbling of dragon breath.

Cassius was woken from his trancelike state by the nudge of a dragon’s muzzle.  Stumbling forward, he turned, face-to-face with the golden dragon mother, Visenya.  Her slitted eye was the size of his head and it was fixed upon him.

“Go on, then,” said William, exchanging a glance with the larger dragon.  “See to her hatchlings.”

Wading through the press, Cassius pushed towards the ebony egg, grasping the edge of the cart to steady himself as he burst through, and leaving him leaning over the egg, one hand on its dry, black scales.  Abruptly, he heard a sharp sound as if something had split and air were rushing out.  A tiny, jagged crack ran down the side of the black egg, the push of the crowd drawing back and then hemming around, in shock.  It took only seconds for them all to realize the truth: Cassius Montagu was a Dragon Rider.

William DeGrey, whose own dragon, Aegon, was shy of a week older than Cassius’ dragon, Rhaegar, was with him every step of the way, learning each and every step together.  It didn’t take them long to develop a deep and abiding friendship.  Will balanced Cassius in every way, while also managing to bring out another, a lighter side of Cassius that he had half forgotten existed at all.  The Hall of the Dragon Riders, where Cassius and the egg were taken and where Rhaegar finally hatched, was an immense cavity, alive with the constant activity of the Dragon Riders.  There, Will, Aegon, Cassius, and Rhaegar received their training and, from there, they began their journeys as Dragon Riders.

Four years after Rhaegar’s hatching, his sister, Naerys, hatched for Will’s little brother, Charles “Char” DeGrey and Cassius tried his best to teach the lad and hatchling whatever he could to help them on their way.  Alone or in a group, Cassius and Rhaegar undertook a great many missions together, flying to the world’s edge and back to see justice done and goodness upheld.

It was on a more diplomatic mission that Cassius was dispatched to The Imperial City.  There, freshly turned twenty-one, Cassius (along with Rhaegar) was introduced to the royal family, but he couldn’t seem to take his off the beautiful Princess Rowena.  It didn’t take long for a kind of affair of the heart to develop between them.  Even as a Dragon Rider, which propelled him into higher circles, Cassius could not think to wed a princess, but that didn’t prevent him from seeking her company should any opportunity arise; it could not keep her out of his thoughts.  Whenever they could, they would sneak moments together.  Before he knew what was happening, Cassius was head over heels.

He had hardly known Rowena a year when she came to him in terrible trouble.  She had sent for him from a world away and he had still dropped everything and come to her with all haste.  As soon as he appeared, she rushed into his arms and told him of a horrific truth she’d learned.  For the months of their association, Rowena had pointed out to Cassius the supreme corruption in the highest parts of the Dragon Rider hierarchy and now she told him the most disturbing piece of news imaginable: they meant to murder her.  They had already killed her family and now they were coming for Rowena, herself, as her queenship was all that stood between them and complete control of Aragoth.  Cassius knew he could allow nothing to happen to her – he was certain that what he felt for her was true love and, she told him, that as queen, as soon as she was safe, they could finally be together.  Cassius knew what he had to do: he had to cast down the corrupt higher ups and see Rowena safe.

It would not be easy, Rowena assured him, but she had a plan.  She had some magic and so did Cassius – and she had a means of making their combined powers enough to overcome those of the other Dragon Riders: dark magic.  It would require innocent blood, and Cassius was sick at the thought, but as he looked into Rowena’s sweet face, he knew he could allow nothing to happen to her – whatever the cost.  He did everything she asked, performing the savage sacrifices and transforming his powers into something a shade or two blacker.  Next, Rowena needed to strengthen his dragon.  He hardly recognized Rhaegar, the first time Rowena presented him to Cassius after their accord was struck – a hulking mammoth beast, several times the size he should be, but powerful enough to lay waste to their foes.

Initially, his intention was to imprison and put on trial the corrupt heads but Rowena convinced him that could not be.  They’d have bought off everyone and, she pointed out, even Cassius’ trusted friend, Will DeGrey, believed in the Elders’ innocence.  Surely, if such a man as that could be fooled, everyone else would be.  No, their intentions had been murderous and, if they meant to survive, Cassius had to strike first – and strike hard.  He had to do away with them.  The plot, she informed him, went much deeper than he would have thought and those loyal to the Elders would turn instantly against him.  Cassius went away with the intent to kill.

Rhaegar carried him on huge leathern wings which snapped in the cool air, soaring towards the Hall of the Dragon Riders, where he confronted the Elders and, without a second thought, put them to the sword, the hugest of the dragons collapsing in that moment along with their Riders.  Without question, a host of other Dragon Riders closed around him, drawing swords and intent on killing but Cassius subdued them all, one by one.  Dragons and Riders swarmed against the smoking husk of the Hall to face the betrayers.  Pages scattered to send messages to the far corners of the world, drawing all Dragon Riders back to the Hall, and Cassius allowed them to do so, lying in wait.  Fire swallowed the Hall and, as the fighting burst into the sky, smoke chocked the air and clogged sight and breath but Cassius fought on as each new menace plummeted to earth.  There was no turning back, now.  Cassius knew he had to kill each and every Dragon Rider who refused to kneel to Rowena.

Amongst the last to arrive were the hardest.  Will DeGrey, Char DeGrey, Ameria Moysaunt, and Alaena, a young Dragon Rider, soared en masse from the South.  Cassius did away quickly with Ameria and Alaena, killing the Riders and, thus, the dragons, leaving him in a standoff against the DeGreys.  More and more Dragon Riders came and Cassius turned his attention to them, not wishing to harm the DeGreys but, at last, they were all that was left.

Kneel!” Cassius called to his friends.  “Swear fidelity to Queen Rowena and you shall live, you shall be rewarded, your family shall be safe.  Together, we will rebuild what was lost today.  We will scour it of the corruptions which debased it and we shall rebuild it as it always should have been.”  Neither DeGrey regarded him, as instead they brought their dragons crashing into Rhaegar, slashing at the leg straps on his saddle, which prevented every Dragon Rider from falling to their doom.  Realizing he had to act, Cassius vaulted on Naerys’ back as Char tried to veer away, plunging his sword hilt-deep into the dragon’s spine before leaping away for Rhaegar to swoop up under him and leaving Char to fall to his death, himself.

Will’s screaming for his brother reverberated in Cassius’ ears as Rhaegar cut him off from trying to catch the boy.  “We are all that is left, don’t you see?” cried Cassius.  “Abandon this futility!  We can still return triumphant to the Queen’s side, together!”

“You just murdered my brother, you murdered everyone!”

“Not everyone, Will.  Don’t make me target your wife and child.”

With a wild shout, Will set his sword against them, driving upwards as he willingly pulled off his own straps and leapt onto Rhaegar’s back, the black dragon clawing at his own back while Aegon’s wings heaved him higher to turn and send a burst of deadly fire and talons against the now-larger dragon.  Will’s blows were heedless and rapid.  It was said that he was one of the greatest Dragon Riders to ever live and Cassius felt the heat of that.  But Rowena’s dark arts combined with Cassius’ own sustained him.  Each blow closed itself up, while Willl and Aegon bore every injury done them.  For hours they battled, diving to be swooped up by one dragon or another; hurling flame and steel at one another; tooth and claw.  It wasn’t until Rhaegar caught hold of one of Aegon’s wings between his teeth and finally managed to rip it to pieces that the dragon finally went spiraling down, unable to maintain his flight.  Rhaegar dropped into an even dive after him, pestering and ripping at every turn.

Aegon collapsed clumsily to earth, deprived of his prime advantage: flight, while Rhaegar peppered him from the sky.  Will stood over him, sword in hand, but deep down, they both knew it was done.  Blood oozed from dozens of injuries on both of them and even Will couldn’t protect Aegon forever.  Cassius literally pulled Will away while Rhaegar plunged in to deliver the killing blow to the dragon.

“Surrender, at least,” pressed Cassius.  “It is finished.  Save yourself.  You have a wife and a son who need you.”

But Will shook his head.  “What they need is justice.”  As Aegon died, Will raised his sword, only to have Rhaegar’s gaping maw close around it as Cassius delivered the killing blow.  It was quick enough, but not quick enough – Will extracted a final promise from Cassius.  “My family has nothing to do with any of this,” he pressed.  “Swear to me you will do them no harm.  They can’t possibly hurt you, now.  Swear it to me, Cassius, if you were ever my friend…swear it.”

“If they offer me no harm, I shall spare them,” he swore and at these words, Will died.

Personality:

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Portrayal:  Richard Armitage

He hardly recognizes Rhaegar, the first time Rowena presents him to Cassius after their accord is struck – a hulking mammoth beast, several times the size he should be.  His gilt eyes glint with the fire behind them, the spines above his eyes and the barbs that hang about his cheeks focusing in on his Rider.  Bending low, Rhaegar’s jaw nearly hits the floor as he presses his head forward, gold eyes fixed on his target.  Cassius stretches out a hand to touch the beast, heat coming off of the dragon in familiar waves.  His scales are dry and hard, hot like tiles over a flame.

The Queen’s gown pools around her feet, hugging her form as if she has arisen from a pool of water.  Her fingers glitter with jewels, throbbing in the flickering torchlight.  “Cassius.”  Blue orbs fasten on his but her voice seems bizarrely distant.  She reaches towards him, yards of luxurious fabric falling in incandescent folds from her arms.  “You are my only hope.”

The dragon breathes beneath his touch.  Blistering air seethes from his nostrils, tendrils rising to cloud his vision, leaving Rowena a ripple of heat on the breeze.  Cassius fastens his sapphire orbs on the dragon.  “There is much to do.”

[cassiusmontagu]

Remember Me | Cassius & Guinevere

[cassiusmontagu]

guineverefontaine

She took in all that he said of the North, but did not mean to, necessarily, trust all of it. He told her not to trust the Beaumonts. She had never trusted any of them and did not feel likely that she should do so now. Celia was spoiled and self-centered, Evie was sheltered and naive, Lynessa was hard to make out and Avelina had made it clear (without being explicit) that she did not care for Guin. She was grateful that they had not cast them out completely, but she could not (and would not) trust them. She didn’t mean to trust the Dalmases either (they were, after all, relatives of Jon’s) but she would judge for herself once she met them, as Cassius’s choice of company did not always align with her own.

“I am glad of it,” She replied, when Cassius informed her that the Beaumonts should be attentive masters of her home. “It flourished under my father and I hope that it will flourish again.” Jon Valles had only been the master of it for a short time, but already she had seen the early signs of neglect. Had he still been alive, she was certain that, within a years time, she would not recognize her own home.

“I confess that is my intention,” She replied with a smile. “Or rather, at least, to make some attempts at it.” She was known here, in the East, for aiding the sick and the poor. But what she really meant to do in the North was to see if she couldn’t form more support for their cause … their cause against him and his Queen. She wondered, later, if he would be so eager to say what he had to say next if he even suspected her true motives.

She’d often thought that he might make her an offer of marriage, but those thoughts had not prepared her for it. For this. For all of the attention that he gave her, she knew that he had loved (and perhaps still loved) the Queen. Sometimes she wondered if she was only a distraction or someone he might frequently have on his arm to ignite jealousy (not that it had mattered much to Guin. The end result was the same: by being close to him, she was able to gather intelligence).

She had made up her mind to accept him, if ever he would ask, long ago. But now that he was kneeling before her, with her hand gently resting in his, she found herself reconsidering. She had never seen him speak to her so softly, so kindly, so genuinely. She was not a passing fancy, she realized. He truly, deeply cared for her and she had not known the extent of it until now.

Would she be able to betray someone who cared so much for her?

She pulled her hand from his. “I – ”

She suddenly was unsure of what to think. She thought of all the horrible things he had done … she thought of what he had done to Charles … what he had done to William DeGrey … what he had done to countless others in the name of the Queen. She had always considered him to be cruel and unfeeling. It would have been so much easier to agree to marry him if she could still think him so.

I want to be better, to do better, he’d said, together, we could do so much, I know it.

She’d never considered that he would want to change. She was glad of it, but she knew he could not know how how much good she was planning on doing with his help. She was afraid, too, that she might make some strides with him, only for him to find out that she had betrayed him … and what might he do, then? One day, one way or another, he would know her secret. Dezód had discovered it long ago and she doubted he would keep it for long.

In the end, she made her decisions as she always did, but asking herself: what is best for Aragoth? She took a exhaled, determined to answer him as honestly as she was able.

“I am honored by your proposal. And I do mean to accept it … only … I do not wish to grieve you, but you should know …. you should know I do not love you and I cannot make you any promises that I ever shall. I would hope that we may still be happy, but –” Her voice trailed … she did not think they could be. “– had my situation been different, I don’t know if I could have said yes. I’m afraid I may make you unhappy.” She paused, “But if you are certain, then so am I. Your offer to aid me and my family is overwhelming.” She could not overlook that he had included her sisters and cousin in this. She could save them all, she realized, from an unhappy marriage with Arthur Arrington (or someone equally disagreeable. If she married Cassius, they would all be free to marry for love, if they wished to marry at all). “And you are right, I do believe that together, we could do good. So much more than I could have hoped to do on my own.”

“Gryffintree is perhaps the most glorious personal residence in the entire Imperial City.  I have no doubt Lady Valles will be proud to call it her own and, having put her name upon it, will ensure its continued brilliance.”  He felt he could say this with some certainty, since, for a time, she’d had some design of the same with regard to himself.  Lynessa was a far wiser woman than her mother, but her Arrington pride just as palpable.  Perhaps she had a right to be.  Cassius couldn’t begin to say: he’d been born the lowest of the low; somehow his achievements had ranked him only further into the muck than he’d begun.  The only thing that had ever ennobled him was his role as a dragonrider and he had betrayed that, too.  “Though she chose him as her future partner, Lady Valles could hardly be more different from her late lord.”

Cassius smiled, half-chuckled.  “I have no doubts you shall succeed,” he replied.  He thought back, half-fondly, half-dispiritedly, to his wretched childhood, buried in the poorest slums of the north where the snows never melted all year round and the wretched died in the streets, even in his own boyhood.  The old king and his agents had done what they could, but Cassius’ village had been so remote that it could not be reached by those who wished it well save during the summer when the snows to some degree abated.  Of all his parents’ children, only Cassius had survived; of all his family, only Cassius now lived.  He could not help but think, with Rowena as Queen, it was likely everyone in the village had perished.  

“I think there is no place in Aragoth more needful of your efforts.  There is much good you can do there.”

She pulled away and his heart clenched.  Even at her most desperate, she did not think of him.  Gods knew he’d been a fool to ask.  Surely, some northern noble would make her a far finer match than Cassius could ever hope to - perhaps the silver lining in all this mess was that she need never speak to Cassius Montagu again.  The thought was bitter in his mouth, but it did not surprise him.  He should have known better than to presume otherwise.  After all, she was not Rowena.  She would not use him and then toss him aside.  She would not look to him, at all.

He watched the doubt in her eyes, dropped his own hands away.  “Forgive me, my lady,” he said, standing once again.  “I did not intend to trouble you.”  He moved to leave.

But she spoke again and he listened, intently.  His gut was a mangled mess, his heart a hammer.  His emotions swirled in confusion: hurt dancing with exultation; mirth and mortification whirling indistinguishable from pride.  His mouth was dry but his head was strangely clear, for all that, listening intently as she spoke with complete honesty to him.  Wasn’t that what he’d wanted, all along, even in the sewer: to be seen as equal to all the others?  Isn’t that what he’d once achieved, when he was his happiest, only to hurl it away again?  Yet, he was not her equal, no.  Not because of their disparate youths, but because of their opposite actions.

Slowly, he exhaled, meeting her gaze for gaze, paralyzed in the expression of her eyes, the inescapable realization that, amidst her candor, too, was the agreement, the agreement to be his.  He wished to say everything, but he could think of not a word.  Carefully, carefully, half expecting her to snatch away from him though he hardly knew, himself, what he intended, her raised a hand to her cheek.  Her eyes seemed to glow, fixed on his, and he knew that, whatever happened from here, this moment would haunt him, for better or for worse.  He would think of her as she was, now, looking up at him, a moment captured in eternity.

He was standing close to her, now, touching her face.  He wished to kiss her, bent as though he might, but her eyes were fathomless and her words unmistakable.  She did not love him; she probably never would.  He smiled, half laughing at himself, and stepped back; dropped his hand away.  “Thank you for your candor,” he replied, softly.  “As you are in mourning, I recognize that we cannot yet wed, but that may be done at your convenience.  I,” he paused, smiled - laughing, half-bitter, at himself again - “Had not planned to make an offer to you, today, so I’ve no rings or articles prepared for you.  I shall deliver them as soon as they are available, if you still wish it, by then.”  

He turned to leave.  Her words about the good they might do rang in his ears and he paused where he was, but he did not know why.  He glanced down, putting on his gloves, turned back again.  “In that, my lady, you must guide me.  I thought, once, to do good to all Aragoth.”  He paused.  “You see the mess I have made of it all.”

[kevc]

[cassiusmontagu]

Truth & Consequence | Cassius & Dmitrei

[cassiusmontagu]

dmitreimassard

“Exactly.” Dmitrei agreed. “Every man has a price, it is only a matter of finding out what that is. Many are easily bought with silver and gold … but others … others would sell their souls for connection, for promises of safety … for the love of a woman.” Cassius Montagu, of all people, should know what it was like to  leave your morals behind in pursuit of something else … something that (at least in the moment) seemed more important than anything. “I consider it my job to find out what that is, when necessary.”

Dmitrei didn’t care about anyone. He didn’t care for money or wealth or titles. He only cared about the game. And that, above all else, was what made him so dangerous. He was a man who didn’t have a thing he wasn’t willing to lose.

“I would be … most grateful,” Dmitrei replied when Cassius promised to pass along how intrical Dmitrei had been to the success of this particular endeavor. “It is its own reward to know that I have secured our good Queen’s gratitude.” He added, inclining his head. He liked having the Queen believe she could trust him. He knew she didn’t fully, but he would never except that from her. Still, he valued the trust he had gained more than anything else she had given him. The information he was privy to would prove to be invaluable in his fight against her later.

It was clear enough that Cassius Montagu, on the other hand, did not trust him. That didn’t bother him much. If he was not to be trusted, then he liked to be underestimated. And he was certain that Montagu did not look at him and see a man who was positioning himself to make a go for the crown, itself.

“Another pirate,” Dmitrei replied, “It seems they have been giving us all some trouble, just now. But he, like the rest, has now been safely locked away awaiting the Queen’s justice. His name is James Garin but … I have a suspicion that it might not always have been so. He was highly trained … where, we may never know … but I would bet that he had not always been a pirate.”

Dmitrei stopped, too, as the question was posed to him. A question he was not about to answer honestly. “My want? I live to serve. And my only real desire to do what is best for the Crown and therefore Aragoth. Is your want not the same?”

Cassius’ gaze was hard, but he did not slow his pace.  Glancing forward once again, he smiled, a steely smile.  Dmitrei was not wrong, however: Cassius had betrayed all he’d once believed for the love of a woman...a woman, he’d very soon discovered, had never truly existed, at all, or if she had, she was now so deeply buried as to be dead, already.  Perhaps, when he’d killed his friends, he’d killed her, too.

His glance flicked back towards Dmitrei.  “Do you mean to bait me with that comment?” he asked.  I am not an enemy you should wish to have, he thought.  “Allow me to be clear.  I do not speak in riddles and I will waste no time with yours.  If you have something you mean to say to me, say it.  This is not a game.”  

Gods knew all the world had enough to accuse him of, and Cassius would not deny a single misdeed, but he would not abide veiled jabs from those who had not the spine to make accusations.  Particularly, he considered, when those jabs edged so close to treason.  If Dmitrei implied that Cassius’ act had been solely for a woman, he implied that it had not been in service of the greater good, as the Queen put about.  To do so was close to incriminating Rowena, herself, and that was a thing she could not abide.  Cassius could not allow a Council member to skirt so close to the truth.  Such things were said, often enough, but Cassius could not allow them to be said beneath Rowena’s own roof.  He did not know if it was loyalty or ire that inspired him in that.  He did not know; he wondered if he ever had.

Slowly, he exhaled.  “I am glad that your methods were, in this case, successful.  I hope you rewarded your informant well as was deserved.  The Queen is ever grateful for the loyalty of her subjects.  And she would be glad, too, of their continued loyalty.”  Cassius had no doubt that Dmitrei knew well how to keep his informants informing - no doubt Dmitrei was far better with such a skill than Cassius could ever hope to be, but he believed in being thorough - particularly as Rowena could rarely be bothered to attend the Council meetings, herself.  

As Dmitrei proclaimed the Queen’s favor as its own reward, Cassius grimaced.  That was precisely the attitude he expected from Dmitrei - and one he loathed.  As a dragonrider, Cassius had often ranged from one end of Aragoth to the other.  He’d known well Dmitrei Massard’s reputation as a bootlicker when Rowena had sent for him - and knew it well to be the very reason behind her summons.  He’d always had a dim view of such behavior.  He had an even dimmer view of it, now, when he knew well and good what Rowena truly was - and saw Dmitrei, himself, now, as a symbol of the kind of queen Rowena Godiva had proven to be.  Once, he’d believed she’d be more, so very much more...

“I have no doubt,” he growled in reply.

As Dmitrei described the pirate, Cassius felt a horrid sinking in his gut.  Gods in hell, he thought.  Char.  Cassius had, after all, driven Charles Degrey into desperate straits when he’d burned his farm to the ground.  Where else did Charles have left to hide?  Of course, Charles had left Cassius with no other choice than so to retaliate, but Cassius ought to have foreseen the consequences.  After all, didn’t this fit?  Driven out of his home and with no other choices, Char would be forced into a life of crime to eat.  Further, of course he would fall in with a gang of lawless miscreants - Char’s own hatred of the Queen was well documented.  Further, how could a man, pushed to such extremes, resist a chance to strike at the queen he so reviled when he came upon her own cousin?  It was just the sort of recklessly impulsive behavior that Cassius knew Char to be capable of.  And, yes, how could any of Celia’s guards have hoped to stand before the onslaught of a dragonrider?  Even one deprived of his dragon?  Who else could it be?

“This pirate,” said Cassius.  “Who do you believe him to be?  Describe him to me.”

[romaynevitalis]

By the Queen’s Command | Cassius & Romayne

Romayne’s movements had been restricted from the moment he had arrived in Aragoth and since then, he’d only seen the Queen exert more control with every passing day. The security she had placed around him now, was constant. It was for his own protection, he had been told. 

Convenient, Romayne thought. The more he tried to slip away, the stronger her grasp. And with cousins being murdered and kidnapped, to even suggest that it be otherwise would seem foolish. 

Romayne had always been a man of action. Lying idle with nothing to do for days did not suit him. Had he been allowed to procure himself some female entertainment, he would have been satisfied … but as the future husband of the Queen, he knew that that would certainly be denied him. 

He was half dressed when it was announced that Cassius Montagu was there to see him. He didn’t bother making himself presentable to see meet the dragon rider (even though the thought of making him wait was rather tempting). 

“Ah, Cassius,” He greeted, walking leisurely into the room, popping a grape into his mouth, “Am I being summoned?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, “Or are you simply a messenger today?”  

[cassiusmontagu]

Cassius particularly loathed this task and, he felt sure, it was that reason, and no other, which had seen it assigned him.  Marching his way across the castle, from the throne room and his own quarters, towards those more elaborate chambers which belonged to the Queen’s most honored guests - including the future King Consort of Aragoth - Cassius soon came to the door in question.  A rough knock brought Romayne’s page scurrying to meet him and, promptly, Cassius was announced.

He waited, leaning against the wall, for the man, himself, to appear.  Romayne did not keep him waiting long, soon appearing in the doorway, half-clothed.  Cassius strode further into the room to meet him.  He was scowling, both because it was his default expression and because he did not particularly like Romayne, nor the words that came tumbling from his mouth.

Cassius smirked - sneered, really.  “Both.  My message is short.  The Queen requires your presence in her private chambers.  She wishes to dine with you.  Put on something nice.  It would not due to keep her waiting, nor would it due to come to her seeming anything but formally clad for the event.  She brooks no disrespect.”  

It was the only advice Cassius could give him: a man some part of him envied and some part of him pitied.  He envied him because, once, Cassius had done so very much to have a taste of a thing Romayne did not want; he pitied him because, since that day, Cassius had learned better.

“I suggest comfortable shoes,” he added.  “It is not a short trip from here to there.”  But, no doubt, Cassius considered, it was a journey he would soon know very well.  This would not be the last time he walked it.  

Considering this truth - as Cassius had little doubt Rowena would often require Cassius to accompany him: another punishment for the things he’d once done in her name - Cassius realized he ought to make some effort at real conversation.  He did not much mind silence, but he doubted Romayne would allow one to lapse and Cassius preferred to introduce a topic of his own, rather than leaving the chance up to Romayne.  Besides, there was something more to say.

“Keep your eyes open around her.  You’ll soon learn her moods.”

[rowlinstafford]

Visitor from the East | Rowlin & Cassius

[cassiusmontagu]

rowlinstafford

“You may give our good Queen my thanks,” He replied, a smug smile upon his lips. He’d never received any such message from the Queen before (until now, he had surely escaped her notice) and there was a swell of pride upon hearing it (and from Cassius Montagu, the Last Dragon Rider, no less). He’d only been Warden in the North for a few months and already he often believed himself to be King in all but name of these parts. On days like today, he certainly felt it.

“Please - “ Rowlin said, holding up a hand to stop him, “No need to apologize. You are always welcome here and we shall always be prepared for your coming.” Rowlin had much and more to learn about where he should spend his coins, but it was true that there was always more than enough food prepared and the entire castle was always kept in perfect condition. He may not be prepared for anything, but he was certainly prepared for himself (and his guests, if he had any) to enjoy all of the comforts and pleasures of Soarhall.

He couldn’t help but scoff, “They were … tolerable. Although, in some cases, quite boring.” He sighed, “But, that is what I should have expected, I suppose, with my uncle in charge of them. It wasn’t so much a celebration for him. I’m sure he was sorry to see his time as Warden come to an end.”

He took another sip of wine, “Although, you know, I don’t think he would have been able to do much better, had he really tried. My uncle doesn’t know how to enjoy himself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile.” He managed a laugh at that: what a poor miserable old man.

He became serious again, when Cassius mentioned the fate of Jon Valles. “I have heard. The North will mourn his loss.” He knew Lord Valles but a little. They’d met once or twice before, but Rowlin was often ushered off to an early retirement by his uncle whenever guests were about. There was something about him that he’d admired, however, and he was sad to hear of his death. The company here in the North was, as a whole, rather tiresome. “And I trust that the Duke shall be dealt with properly, even though he is the Queen’s own uncle?”

Cassius inclined his head.  “I shall,” he assured the young Warden.  Indeed, he doubted Rowena would much care, but it had given him a pretext for coming and, he knew, she would be more or less glad to hear that young Rowlin had been honored by her congratulations.  Rowena Godiva liked little more than to be headed and admired.  

Once again Cassius inclined his head, this time in recognition of a favor done.  “Then, you have my thanks.  I hope, too, I may tell my friends that this honor extends to them, as well,” he began softly as servants scuttled about, placing heaping piles of food before them.  “A contingent of them shall be arriving...presently.”  Any day now, he supposed.  “As it happens, they are cousins of the late Lord Valles, which is the cause of their coming, and are most honored soon to meet Your Lordship.”

Tilting his head, Cassius listened intently as Rowlin spoke.  In truth, he was accustomed to listening so when people spoke of things that did not interest him.  After all, he had much practice in the area: he had a seat on the Queen’s Council.  “I am sorry to hear that they were not to your liking.  Perhaps your forthcoming nuptials will provide ample opportunity to rectify whatever may have been lacking in the ceremonies of your ascension.”  The Dragonrider arched his brows.  “I suppose that must be difficult.  Most men loose such a station when they loose their lives: few are obliged to step down.”  

In truth, Cassius had little love for Lucian Moran, and felt that there was little to recommend so severe a man for the position of Warden.  However, his replacement also seemed rather to lack the positive qualities that recommended leadership.  This was the case all across Aragoth: the West, which was technically led by a four year old child, seemed to have the most capable government.  In any case, he found himself biting back a grim smile.  He was confident such a sentiment had often been expressed regarding himself.

“I suppose he must have other qualities,” said Cassius, because it seemed the thing to say.  He glanced down at his plate, glanced with his most sociable expression (only a few beats away from his usual scowl) to the young Warden.  He was, after all, here mostly to make out the character of the young man.  “How do you best like to pass your time?”

He must be a fine actor, thought Cassius.  He seemed genuinely sullen considering the fate of Jon Valles - and, as Warden, this was required of him when receiving such news - but Cassius could not help but think it must be an act.  Who could regret the death of a monster?  Certainly, Cassius knew, no one would grieve his own passing.  “He shall, my lord.  Already he awaits his trial in the Queen’s deepest cells.  There is little doubt as to the truth of the matter,” (which was, of course, that Alexandir was innocent and yet destined to die), “And the Queen’s jury shall no doubt see this for themselves, soon enough.”  His trial would reach only one conclusion and then his head would be cleaved from his shoulders and the name of Godiva would be at an end.  “The Queen,” he began, rather ironically.  “Has never shied from justice such as this.”

[romaynevitalis]

Stranger in a Strange Land | Romayne & Cassius

[cassiusmontagu]

romaynevitalis

“You doubt it?” Romayne asked, raising an eyebrow, “Why should I not smile on such a happy occasion?” Grinning broadly, even now as he asked the question. Cassius was not wrong, however. Romayne was not looking forward to marrying the Queen. But being her husband would certainly have its advantages. For one, he would get to fuck her. And another, he would get to taunt Cassius about it.

He didn’t like Cassius Montagu from the moment he’d first heard stories about him. And now, having met him, he liked him even less. He could have perhaps given his past betrayals if he had, at the least, taken advantages of the power and position he had gained for himself. But he did not even do that. He tore down all those he had loved and now he lived a miserable existence.

So what had it all been for?

“I shall have the most beautiful and the most powerful woman in all of Aragoth as my wife. I could not think of a reason more deserving of a smile. Of course, the wedding itself interests me much less than the wedding night.”

He looked around him. The wine was strong, even by Romayne’s standards, and he suspected that it was the wine (and not much else) that made everyone around them look so pleased. The mood the night before had been tense after the altercation between Jon Valles and Alexandir Godiva. It had been clear then (and while less so now, it was there if you knew what to look for) that no one particularly cared for the groom.

The only two people who seemed happy was the couple, themselves.

“Of course,” He said, raising the goblet of wine to his lips, “What could be more inspiring of joy than this?” He took a sip, “I will admit, it will take some time to get used to your foreign customs. Do you think they will always love each other, as they do now?” He asked, “In the isles, we take as many husbands and wives as we please.” He paused, “But surely, if there was ever such a woman to inspire a lifelong devotion, it would be your Queen, and in this, I am fortunate.”

Cassius Montagu was no fool and he knew when he was being baited. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but grate at the implication, felt his expression harden.  He did not know why he had picked this fight when he would be always on the loosing side.  But the wine was strong and all he could think, at the time, had been of what Cassius had once desired and Romayne now would have...against, it would seem, his will.  Yet, no wedding night was worth the hell that would be their marriage.

“Smiles are rare, you will soon find, Lord Vitalis, in this part of the world,” responded Cassius, flicking his blue gaze towards the other man.  He felt disjointed and somehow separate from himself, a feeling that was relieving to him, in truth.  There was no pleasantness in being Cassius Montagu.

“Is it beauty and power you crave?” inquired Cassius.  Perhaps, if that was all he wanted, he would be happy after all.  Certainly, those were things Rowena had in spades: she simply had no heart or soul and Cassius had wanted both.  “The marriage,” commented Cassius.  “Ought to concern you far more than either.”  It was a treacherous thing, to be so close to Rowena Godiva, and Cassius doubted he would long survive their union.

Cassius, who was already being far more talkative than he most ever was, was also feeling far more honest and he barked out a laugh he did not feel.  “I would be astonished if it’s love either of them feel at all, just now.  Can one love a serpent?”  It was a fitting badge for Jon Valles: proof, perhaps, that the gods had a sense of humor, after all.  “Certainly, the serpent knows no love, but if there were ever a woman for the job...”  Lynessa Beaumont had a bewitching quality over all the city and little did she seem to know it.  Yet, even a blind man, Cassius thought, could see it.  The people screamed her name in loud acclaim.  They loved her as no one would ever love Rowena...No one, save Cassius, himself.  

Romayne spoke of lifelong devotion and Cassius looked down into the red of his glass and thought of blood spilt in her name.  So many had died and now here they stood.  What had been the point?  “She is not a woman you shall ever forget,” Cassius assured him.  There could be no forgetting.  “Perhaps the Queen shall lay claim to your practice and adopt other husbands,” he said.  “But I doubt as she shall ever share what once has been hers.  If you wed her, she is the only wife you shall ever have.”

[cassiusmontagu]

Break the Fall | Cassius & Alexandir

[cassiusmontagu]

alexandirgodiva

Avelina Beaumont had finally left him in peace.

He’d settled into an uneasy sleep, only to be roused from it by Cassius Montagu. He’d half expected to see Avelina: he wasn’t sure if she would brave such a place as this, but he’d known as soon as he saw her that he had been silly to hope that she would not come. Any chance to gloat her successes over him would not be deterred, even by such a place as this.

But he had not expected to see anyone else. Certainly not Cassius Montagu. At least until it was time for his his execution. But that was not why he was there. He, too, had something he wished to say.

“You know I’d never been down here, before this.” Alexandir confessed, “I’d heard vivid enough descriptions of how the occupants begged for death long before it was granted to them. I knew about the dark, about the lack of food, living in your own piss and shit with only the screams of your fellow prisoners for company. No one ever speaks about the worst thing about this place, however, and I was not prepared for it. Tell me, is every prisoner visited by those they hate most in the world and forced to listen to them? Or is that a special privilege reserved only for the Queen’s own family?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “I suppose Rowena herself, shall be next.”

He did not know what Cassius had come to say, but had not expected him to be so frank about Alexandir’s obvious innocence – even here, where no one whose word carried any weight would overhear. “If I told you, would it matter? The Queen has wanted me dead for years and now she finally can take my head and say that justice demanded it of her.” He exhaled, “I wish I knew who it was - but let that man (or woman) go free. No doubt they had a good enough reason for it. One has only to spend a few moments in a room with Valles to have a motive and only only a few more to have rightful cause.” He rested his head against the cell wall. He liked to think that he was dying so a better man might live. Perhaps it was better that he did not know the truth of it.

“Justice has a strange taste here, you are told?” Alexandir repeated, raising an eyebrow, “Do you deny that you’ve certainly had a hand in dealing out just strange justices at Her Majesty’s command?”

A strange wave of emotions swept over Alexandir at hearing this. He had known all along of the part Cassius had played in Rowena’s plot, but he had never expected such a candid account of it all, even now. They all had pretended for so long to have believed that his family’s death was the fault of the fallen Riders, that it was refreshing to hear the truth aloud.

“You did not know what was to befall my family … “ He repeated, slowly, “Am I to believe that, if you had, you would not have gone through with it? You, who so quickly agreed to slaughter those who were your own family in all but name for Rowena, would it really have been so hard to accept the death of her’s, too, as part of it all?”

He had not thought of that night for a long time. He should have died then, too. He wished he had died. He thought about his brother … his sister … and what they had done to them ….

“Why have you come here, Montagu?” He growled, “If it is to make a confession to me, I will not hear it. Rowena could have never have accomplished any of this without you. You tell yourself that your motives were pure: that what you did; you did for love. But you will never rest easy. Not while you continue to serve her. If you had truly wished to atone for what you’ve done, you would have driven your sword into her heart years ago.”

The ghost of a smile twitched at the corner of Cassius’ mouth and he nodded softly.  “It’s our most closely guarded torment of all,” he drawled.  He had always liked Alexandir Godiva.  Fifteen years before, he had always found amusement in the truths he brought to bear and, he found, even now there was truth in his cynical humor.  “I gather Lady Beaumont has already been here?"

He said this, not because it was somehow lost on him that he, himself, was clearly one of the most hated people in Alexandir’s life (this neither surprised nor particularly wounded him because he had already known it to be true) but because she was the only person, besides Rowena whom he had already mentioned, whose company could be in the same echelon of unpleasantness, now that Jon Valles was dead.  She was, also, for all her delusions of grandeur, the only person who cared enough to deign muddy her skirts with one final visit in these dreadful pits.

“Sadly, I doubt you shall ever see your loving niece, again,” he replied.  “Save, perhaps, at your execution.”  He imagined Rowena would not miss that long-desired event for anything in this world.  Cassius pictured her enthroned as she watched the axe fall.  She would wear black touched with purple and sit high above him, the snarl of triumph concealed only by a veil...and then Alexandir would be far beyond them all.  Cassius felt a wave of nauseous envy for that sparse gift.  “Our gracious queen does not make a habit of visiting prisoners.”  Cassius, however, was here often.  She kept the last dragonrider around specifically for those unpleasant tasks with which she chose not to waste her own time.  “Though she does usually display much more tolerance for murderers than she has in your case.”

Cassius nodded slowly, raised his eyes to the damp green algae which ran slick over many the walls.  What a miserable place to live out his last days, Cassius thought.  He might have expected at least respectable house arrest, given his rank, under any other regime, but who could be surprised that Rowena had waived that courtesy.  “If it were any decent person,” he mused.  “They would come forward and own their crime rather than allowing an innocent to die for them.  But then, perhaps they have no heard.”  

Indeed, Cassius somewhat suspected that it had not been a man, at all, but some poor woman with whom Valles had once meddled and had somehow survived his attentions.  It would have been easy for such a one to have come under the employ for such an event - and to have been roused to anguish again by the event, as well - as an extraordinary number of servants had been necessary to carry off the lavish festivities.  It also would have been just as easy for her to issue out in the grand exodus afterwards.  She may not even know that Alexandir was dying in her place, as word traveled somewhat slowly out to the smaller villages.

“I do not deny it,” he replied.  “Indeed, that is just what I meant.  You see, I stand on this side of your cage with you in there.  I have yet to taste justice for my crimes.  But I shall,” he swallowed and contemplated the most horrific circles of the demon god’s hell.  “I shall.”

Cassius gazed at Alexandir in quiet as his thoughts roved.  Always, he had clung to it: That, at least, I did not do...Those were not my crimes, and never stopped to contemplate what might have happened in slightly different circumstances.  “You’re right,” he said, at last.  “If she had asked it of me, I would have slaughtered them, as well,” he admitted, finally.  “I would have slaughtered them all.”  His breath came in a cloud of cold vapor as he glanced down.  

He had always considered his a more noble murder (oh, yes, he had made that mental disparity) because the deaths he had wrought had been upon armed warriors.  He had harmed no children, killed no prisoners, hunted no unarmed women.  Yet Rowena’s crimes matches his in this: both had murdered their families; both had murdered opponents who could not possibly hope to best them.  Hers were lesser in this: she had murdered only half a dozen, where he had slaughtered hundreds.  

He returned his gaze to Alexandir.  “But I did not do it.  I wish I could tell you what became of your niece, now, but I cannot.  Neither I nor Rowena know what became of Aalis Vymont.  She may still be alive out there, somewhere.  Perhaps,” he added, drolly.  “It was she who ended Jon Valles.  We shall most like never know as Rowena will no further investigate the case.  She does not wish anyone ever to know that it was not you who killed him.”

Cassius’ jaw clenched shut as he heard Alexandir words.  They wriggled through his veins like parasites to sap whatever hope was left from him and he stood, as though winded, before a Alexandir like a man beaten.  His eyes were hooded in the scant light of this wretched hole and he felt at once at home in the muck and mire.  It was true: he’d hoped for a confession, a catharsis, an absolution: he had hoped that if Alexandir had said ‘yes, at least you did not do that,’ that it might feel like forgiveness, for Alexandir was the last living victim.  “You are right,” he acknowledged.  “It is the fate she and I both deserve...But I am too much a coward, even, to do that.  I do not think it shall ever be I that will kill her, but I think that one day, she will kill me.”

He looked away and back again.  “I came,” he said, softly.  “For that, I confess it.  But I came, too, because if you are to die, I owe it to you to look you in the eye and hear whatever it is you would say to me.”  He paused.  “And I came because, once, we were friends.”

[sysleydufey]

Miserable Souls | Cassius & Sysley

She’d done something no mother should ever do: she had to bury her children. And he had made her do it. 

The memories of her lost sons was never far from her mind, but they were impossible to escape whenever she was in the presence of Cassius Montagu. He’d murdered them all. And for what? She wondered. What had he gained from it? Surely not happiness. He was a miserable soul: his smiles (rare as they were) never reached his cold eyes. She took some small pleasures in that. She hoped he never felt warmth or happiness again. And if he did, she wanted it taken from him.

But she knew she must tread carefully when she was around him. Her age and station would only protect her so much. Had she not had a beloved niece to look after, she might have said and done more. She’d once even considered killing him herself. All it would take would be a drop of a potion in his tea. 

Kill the rider; kill the dragon. 

She’d been so very close once, but she could not leave Alia to live amongst the monsters on her own. She knew she would eventually be found out and sentenced to die, horribly, by the Queen. So, until Alia was settled and happy, Sysley would not considering harming a hair on his miserable head. 

“My nephew told me you had arrived,” She said, by way of greeting “It is always a pleasure to be in your company.” She added, “The Last Dragon Rider.” She announced, a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice. “And how long are you to grace us with your presence?” 

[cassiusmontagu]

Cassius had no illusions as to Sysley’s true feelings regarding himself and, frankly, he found it refreshing.  If nothing else, they were at least likeminded in this: they detested Cassius Montagu above all living things saving, perhaps, Her Grace the Queen.  Cassius was an easy man to hate.  Even when he’d been at his best, his friends were few, and perhaps that was part of why he had been so amazed and beguiled by Rowena’s professions of love: he’d not thought anyone would ever look at him that way.

They’d been right not to.

He walked slowly, watching his steps carefully amidst the snow.  Like Rowena, it was beautiful.  Beautiful and treacherous and cold.  He enjoyed the soft crunch beneath his feet as he tread over it.

The sound of Sysley’s voice disturbed his reverie and Cassius stopped to regard her, gravely.  “Hmm,” he hummed, almost a laugh.  Will, he thought, sorrowfully.  Will DeGrey might have said something like that.

“Not long,” he assured her.  “I’m here only to convey the congratulations of Her Grace the Queen upon the majority of your nephew.”  In fact, that was not his motive, it was his excuse.  He was there to ensure the easy transition of the Fontaines.  Specifically, Guinevere Fontaine.  Given that they were now to live where once Jon Valles had dwelt, Cassius could not imagine it was a place fit for anything other than torture, rape, and death and he meant to ensure that she had at least the basic necessities of life.

“How does the North take to the shift in governance?” he inquired, narrowing his eyes.  He’d met the lad enough to know that his were...not the most capable hands into which the fate of the North could fall.  But then, he’d also known Jon Valles.  They were not the worst, either.  Lucian Moran, himself, had hardly been a kind and virtuous leader, but at least he’d been a capable one.  No one yet knew what Rowlin might prove to be.

[quillington]

That’s disgusting and wrong. I don’t even get-why would-I-I’ve never had sex, with anyone, anywhere. It’s none of your-you have, the nerve, the audacity-Guinevere is my lady, technically, and she is terrible face-wise and how-how do I know, frankly, that you’re not sleeping with her? Maybe you are. Maybe you’re trying to throw me off. Hmm? Check and mate. This is an outrage. Who do I call?!

Cassius Montagu (to Will Caldwell)

[cassiusmontagu]

OOC | Cassius & Ana

[cassiusmontagu]

anamoysaunt

yeah okay so I feel like actually witnessed cassius kill her mom b/c that’s a fun memory to have ~thumbs up emoji~. I feel like they may have met before that tho since he was a dragon rider and so was her mom??? possibly???? like i DO have this headcannon that ana went with her mom once when she was little up to the east for some dragon rider thing or another at the hall of the dragon riders but idk if she would have remembered him from that or not?????

but yES. I do think that kids of dragonriders are more likely than others to be riders, themselves, and I can see where rowena may want cassius to keep tabs on all of them but idk if he was able to do so with ana and avina since they ran away and I feel like most people thought they were dead?

but maybe he’s heard about them since they’ve kind of ~resurfaced? idk if he’d seek them out now?????

Ana has...sucH a great life lkajsdflkjsdlkjfjd <3  Also...gdi Cassius he wouLD kljasdklfjkdsl  Yassss!  I agree!!!  I deF think they’d met before!!!!!  I just meant I doubt they were tight or anything hahha although I mean she could’ve been that one kid he bonded w dlksjfakds *awkward turtle*  ANA AT THE HALL OF THE DRAGON RIDERS IM EMOTIONAL SDFJAKLJSDKFJ  

Oh, yeah, no I def agree that he doesn’t know where they are rn/probs thinks they’re dead!!!  I just meant I feel like it’d be part of his job to bring them to Rowena/whatever if he ever found them hahaha kinda like if he just ~happens to stumble upon dragon eggs.

As far as seeking them out, I def think he’d let them fly under the radar as long as possible bc ~that awkward moment when he murdered their mom in front of them~ buT if Rowena/her council found out, he’d be super on top of that, if that makes sense?  Lizzy, he’s so weird...idek like he kind of lets things slide unless Rowena and/or member(s) of her council know(s) then he’s like ‘ok it’s timE i let you hide long enough’ lsdjkflkjsdjk  

So yeah it’d directly correspond w who else may or may not know/Cassius knows/suspects who knows, that sort of thing?????  Like, obv Dezod knows but Dezod isn’t in the sharing mood re: that info & Cassius bc he’s got a better (more delicious ;D) meal idea cooked up rn so Cassius has no earthly clue that Dezod’s in on it.  But if, for example, Dmitrei or Romayne or someone were like ‘what’re these rumors i hear about moysaunts alive in the south’ then he’d like ‘this is totally the first im hearing about this no way shut up shut the front door this is totally new information whAT i never knew this before im on it bYE’ and fly south hahaha

[arthurarrington]

Waiting | Arthur & Cassius

Alexandir Godiva had been condemned for Arthur’s crimes against Jon Valles, but Arthur still felt uneasy. Until Alexandir was buried in the ground, he would worry that the truth would be revealed, somehow. The guilt, however, would follow him for the rest of his life. But that, he knew, he could live with. He had made it this far. And while Alexandir was innocent of this crime, he’d never trusted the dwarf. He was a Godiva, after all. He did not think him capable of all that Avelina did, but he felt that he likely had the tendency to be sneaky and underhanded. 

And there was something in the way that he looked and spoke to him that made Arthur question if Alexandir did not suspect what he had done in order to keep his own head. 

And so Arthur quietly counted the days that Alexandir Godiva had left to live. 

Since the wedding, Arthur had not visited Gryffintree Hall once. He had been too distracted by the other events to give the Fontaines or their cousin a second thought. But last night, when Avelina mentioned how Gryffintree now belonged to her daughter, he was made aware of their new situation. To the North they would go … unless he meant to offer his hand to one of them. 

Even now, when the situation may become quite bleak for them if he did not intervene, he could not make his choice. But he’d promised himself that he would, eventually, choose amongst them. But not until the trouble with Alexandir had passed and he knew he was safe. 

Today he meant to see them to offer his condolences (even if he was certain that they were more pleased than saddened with the death of their cousin) and privately hoped that it would prove to be a distraction for himself. 

Upon arrival, he noted Rhaegar flying overhead … which meant Cassius was here or nearby. As though to answer his thoughts, he saw him step through the front door on his way out.

“Cassius!” He greeted, “Are the ladies at home?”  

[cassiusmontagu]

Cassius felt a great deal of turmoil.  He knew that there was much to do in cleaning up what few possessions still actually belonged to them and in saying their farewells to the east, but still it perturbed him that Cassius had been now twice to Gryffintree this week and still had not encountered them.  The suspicious part of himself whispered that they were simply eager not to see him, and truly he could not blame them.  Still, however, Cassius could not rest until he’d said...until...He must speak.

As he stepped outside into the bright summer sun - its rays even now greeting a fresh autumn breeze - he squinted towards an approaching figure.  Arthur Arrington rode up and hailed him with a smile, something Cassius attempted to greet with anything other than a scowl.  He managed a bald stare in its place.

“They are not,” he replied.  “Perhaps,” he said sardonically.  “They have gone to Fain, hoping to hear some good news, as you seemed unlike to come to them.”  Cassius found it quite scandalous that Arthur should spend all his spare time courting the lot of them, only to turn his back now that his attentions might do them some good.  “It is good that you have come to see them, today.  No doubt they have missed the sight of you.”  Cassius was only slightly relieved to see Arthur here today, at last.  He viewed his abandonment of them as proof of his true character: faithless.  But then, who was Cassius Montagu to talk of loyalty?

“How fairs your cousin?” inquired Cassius of Lynessa.  Though he had been disinterested in the business of wedding her, himself, and felt nothing but hatred for her late husband, he felt for her loss as did all of Aragoth.  “She was most piteously distressed, when last I saw her.”  The last he had seen of her had, in fact, been her piercing shrieks and wails as she was led away from the corpse of the man she had wed not one hour before.

Cassius wondered about the true identity of the murderer, but it was an exercise in idle curiosity more than anything.  He knew it suited everyone that Alexandir should die and had no intention of publicly picking at that wound.  Still, it might prove a useful thing to do as Cassius, like everyone else who accused Alexandir, believed in his innocence.