brigit malconaire

Witch. We call such women so, because we have no other name.

[duckduckpato]

2nd merida moodboard!

[forgottenroderick]

Rebel Rebel | Roderick & Brigit

"Impressive shooting today," said Roderick when the Astairan peasant, Bran O'Connor, was brought before him.

Snapping to a servant, the liveried attendant hastened to offer Bran a cup of wine.

"Sit by me a moment," he began, impressively, gesturing towards a chair that was still shorter than his own with ring-adorned hands. "I would speak with you."

His smile turned tight as he turned towards the lad with heavy blue gaze. "I confess, I thought that mine own brother, His Grace the princely Duke of Farrington, had you there for a moment." He paused, allowing the farm-scum to recover from the gravity of such a lofty title. "Your talent is indeed magnificent."

He paused, gaze roving over the man before him, registering with some surprise that the lad was not even five and a half feet tall. Frowning as he leaned forward, he quirked a brow. "Tell me, how old are you, boy?"

Perhaps he'd been wrong to think that he must, indeed, be a rebel. He could not be much more than a child, surely? But, then, he was but a peasant, growing up amongst the muck and mire. Perhaps he really was full grown.

Sinking back into his throne with a grim expression, Roderick tilted his head, taking in the lad's clothing. "Where have you been hiding all this time? You know...my armies certainly have use of one of your...talents."

[forgottenbrigit]

For one fleeting, treacherous moment, Brigit wondered what would happen if she simply reached for the knife hidden beneath her cloak and drove it straight into Roderick Varmont’s heart.

She could see it clearly enough in her mind. The shock on his face. The guards surging forward. Her own death would follow swiftly -- she had no illusions about that -- but what then? Would Astaira be free? Or would it only plunge the country deeper into chaos? Civil war would surely follow his death. And who among the Varmonts would rise from the wreckage? Would the best of his children prevail… or the worst?

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the imperial dais where his wives and sons sat watching. The thought chilled her.

This serpent had more than one head.

Killing Roderick alone would not set things right: and worse still, her sisters might suffer for it. The Malconaires were already watched closely enough. One reckless act from her could doom them all.

So Brigit forced the thought away and bowed her head.

“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” she said quietly, accepting the wine only long enough to be polite.

She had spoken little to Roderick Varmont in her life, but she was confident enough that he would never imagine that a woman stood before him now. The idea alone would be laughable to a man like him. Still, she was not keen to risk exposure, and she kept her eyes lowered, careful not to linger too long beneath his gaze. The sooner this conversation ended, the better.

“I am seventeen, Your Majesty,” she said when he asked, lowering her voice slightly as she had practiced. The lie came easily. The age explained her smaller stature, the lightness of her voice. “I have spent most of my life working for an Astairan lord. Hunting for the table, mostly. That is where I learned to shoot.”

She paused carefully when he mentioned his army.

The offer unsettled her far more than she expected. Refusing outright might offend him, but accepting was impossible. Accepting, even for the moment, might make slipping off harder to do and she had no intention of that until the winnings were safely in her possession.

“I am honored by Your Majesty’s offer,” she said after a moment, choosing each word with care. “Truly.” She lifted her eyes just enough to appear sincere before lowering them again. “But I fear a great deal of luck was on my side today. Against warriors of such skill as His Grace…” she gestured faintly toward the field, “…I would not normally stand a chance...”

She gave a small, modest shrug, hoping humility would satisfy him. “I doubt very much I could repeat what I managed today.”

[forgottenarthur]

You There | Arthur & Brigit

"You there!" Arthur's voice called out over the lists. "Are you lost?"

While men-at-arms took down the information of every applicant, there was chaos in the yard. One applicant, in particular, Arthur noted seeming to scoot towards the palace, itself. He was clearly quite young by his height -- little more than a boy, Arthur would judge -- and likely somewhat lost.

"You cannot go there." He paused, taking in the bow and quiver adorning the lad's back. "Are you an archer?"

Arthur couldn't help but doubt his skill. A young boy accustomed to hunting squirrels in the woods was entirely different from a warrior, but Roderick, in a rare gesture of total equality, had insisted that every man be allowed entry -- and a chance at the irresistable prize.

Arthur hadn't fully considered, before his time in Astaira, just what such a sum of gold might mean to people of a different...lifestyle, but between Eithne and Aria, he'd begun to see peasants in a different life. He might have little hope in the boy's skill -- but he deserved a chance to bring the winnings back to his mama, same as the next.

"I'll show you where to go," he sighed, feeling that a porter really ought to be doing this and not an imperial prince, but there was no helping it. "Have you traveled far to be here today?"

[forgottenbrigit]

Brigit did not stop at first.

When Arthur’s voice carried across the yard, “You there!”, she continued walking as though the call had been meant for someone else entirely. There were dozens of men moving through the lists, and she kept her head lowered beneath her hood, hoping the crowd might swallow her before he looked too closely.

But when he called again, closer this time, her stomach dropped.

For one chilling moment she was certain she had been discovered. Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs as she imagined the worst of it: her mask being tossed aside and her identity revealed. And with the archery competition -- the one event she knew she had a real chance of winning -- being was less than an hour away. To be found out now, after everything she had risked, would be unbearable.

She stopped slowly, forcing herself to turn.

There was nowhere left to go.

Yet as Arthur approached, the dreadful certainty in her chest began to loosen. His expression held no recognition: only mild impatience and a sort of reluctant concern. He had not found her out at all. He thought she was merely some lost boy wandering toward the palace gates.

Brigit felt her pulse steady again, though she did not allow herself to relax.

She bowed quickly, careful to keep her face turned slightly away as she lowered her voice into the rougher tone she had been practicing all morning. “Your Imperial Highness,” she said respectfully. “Forgive me.” The title tasted strange in her mouth (she avoided it, whenever possible) but she forced the words out smoothly.

“I am an archer,” she added, keeping her sentences short and careful. “I work for Lord Ormond, and have come only as far as his lands to compete today.” The lie left her lips before she had time to think better of it.

Only after she spoke did the mistake strike her.

Of all the people to mention Lord Ormond to, Arthur Varmont might be among the worst. She knew well enough that Cassandra had taken a particular interest in that mysterious lord, and Arthur might easily begin asking questions she could not safely answer. The thought made her stomach tighten again.

But the words had already been said.

So Brigit simply bowed her head again, resolving firmly to speak as little as possible from here on out.

"I would be grateful, Your Highness, if you could point the way." She added, hoping to both change the subject and release him from any obligation he might have felt to escort her the entire way.

[forgottenvalentina]

Where Have You Been? | Valentina & Brigit

Valentina's hands were on her hips, her eyes burned like coals, and arching a supercilious brow at her stepdaughter, standing a full half foot taller, she stared down at Brigit.

"Wriggling back in? I suppose you hoped we wouldn't notice that you'd gone, hm?" Seizing one of Brigit's arms, she yanked her closer, leaning down to bring their faces closer. "Where have you been?"

Valentina had been more than generous, stooping so low as to pay her ungrateful stepchildren to be present at the events in support of their dear brother and yet it seemed that even that was not enough, even when it was for the good of those grimy peasants they claimed to care so much about! There really was no pleasing some people.

Each of her stepdaughters, save Aoife, had managed to make herself scarce at some point during the festivities, his own fiancée refusing to stand up when he was most in need of support! She would see that Cassimir heard about it, supporting her littlest sister rather than the man she'd chosen to wed! And it was true that Rosie had claimed to be ill much of this past week, and had further, been acting strange, but that was hardly enough to excuse such behavior!

Now, Brigit had disappeared not merely during part of the archery competition, but during its entirety! Did she really think Valentina would turn a blind eye to such blatant disrespect?

"I hope you know this will come out of the rewards I was giving you! The people will hear why their alms were so lowered -- Lady Brigit couldn't be bothered to support House Malconaire even to benefit them. Really, the egoism of you girls truly baffles me sometimes. Your dear father must be rolling in his grave! Well, I hope you're happy with whatever...protest you think you've accomplished. It may well earn you a thrashing tonight, unless you can produce a valid excuse, hm? Let's hear it."

[forgottenbrigit]

Brigit had almost made it to the back stairs.

The house had been quiet, the candles dimmed, and she had slipped in through the rear door with the silent ease of someone who had spent years navigating the house without drawing Valentina’s attention. All she needed was a few more moments: just long enough to reach the attic. She was wondering if she would be able to resist the urge to wake her sisters and tell them everything. The winnings were not yet in her hands, but they would be soon.

She had earned them. Not for herself: but for her sisters; for Malconaire.

So even as Valentina seized her arm and dragged her forward, Brigit could not quite manage to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She had won today and not even Valentina could change that.

“I assure you,” she said lightly, meeting her stepmother’s furious gaze with an irritating calm, “my absence was very much in support of House Malconaire.” Her voice carried a teasing edge she made no attempt to soften. “I knew perfectly well that Cassimir would not win today -- yet again -- and I thought it kinder not to sit in the stands and watch the humiliation unfold.”

She knew exactly what the remark would earn her. A lashing, most likely, and perhaps worse. But strangely, the thought did not frighten her tonight. After everything she had done today, it felt as though Valentina’s anger could hardly reach her.

Still, Brigit knew better than to rely on defiance alone.

Her expression sobered slightly and she carefully tugged her arm free from Valentina’s grasp. “Though perhaps I have already been punished for my absence,” she said, more quietly now. She rolled back her sleeve just enough to reveal the angry gash along her forearm, the blood that had seeped through the fabric dark against her skin. “I took a fall from my horse this morning.”

She let Valentina see it clearly before lowering her sleeve again. “Surely you would have preferred I stay away rather than appear in public looking like this?” Brigit added calmly. “It would hardly have reflected well on House Malconaire.”

Despite the seriousness of the words, that small, infuriating smile still lingered on her lips.

[forgotteneithne]

The Missing Sister | Brigit & Eithne

"There you are!"

Eithne and Roisin had left the tournament after the first round of the Horseback Melee, Rosie feeling unwell and Eithne not particularly keen to remain after watching Cassimir be knocked out in the first round competing against, of all people, Arthur Varmont. Valentina had been incensed but Eithne had begun to realize that her step mother rarely wasn't incensed in her presence these days.

Eithne had been expecting to find Brigit back at the house, her sister having vanished not long before the family had set out for the Citadel. Eithne couldn't blame her-- spending time with Valentina was exhausting.

The house had been quiet when she and Roisin had arrived, Rosie taking to her room while Eithne changed into her boots and out of her finer dress to something more appropriate for traipsing about the woods. Aftering checking at the stables to find Brigit's horse gone, Eithne could only conclude her sister was out, undoubtedly having a much more pleasant day than the rest of them. With the days events over, everyone was finally home-- Valentina sniping at Eithne before going to her room, Cassimir storming off to his own to undoubtedly stew about his los that day. Aoife looked absolutely exhausted, having been the only of the four sisters to make it the entire day.

But it hadn't been until a few hours later that Brigit finally made an appearance, Eithne catching her creeping in through the back hall.

"I was starting to get a bit worried about you! Where on earth did you run off to all day?" Eithne inquired, wrapping an arm around Brigit's shoulder as her sister approached. "I was out in the woods all afternoon and was sure we might cross paths. Are you hungry?" she continued. "Cook's probably gone to bed but I'll be happy to make you something."

[forgottenbrigit]

Brigit gave a soft laugh as Eithne’s arm slipped around her shoulders, though the movement made her wince ever so slightly before she managed to hide it behind a tired smile. “You needn’t worry about me,” she said lightly. “I was out with Feidlimid,” she added after a moment, which at least had the virtue of being true. The horse had been her companion from the moment she had ridden out that morning until the moment she had crept back into the stable yard.

Her body certainly remembered it. The fall had knocked the breath clear out of her and left her bruised from shoulder to hip, and the dull ache now spreading through her limbs reminded her sharply just how reckless she had been. Unhorsing Tristan Calanion in the first round had filled her with a dangerous sort of pride. For one brilliant moment she had felt invincible. Feidlimid had known better and he had fought her hands in the second round, but Brigit had ignored him and paid the price when Alaric Varmont sent her sprawling into the dirt.

She forced herself to stand a little straighter now, keeping her left arm tucked close to her side so that Eithne would not notice the dark stain slowly spreading through her sleeve. The cut along her forearm had reopened during the ride home, and she had no intention whatsoever of letting her sister discover it. If Eithne so much as suspected what she had been doing these past few days, there would be no end to the worry. Brigit could bear the bruises easily enough; disappointing Eithne would be far worse.

She would tell her tomorrow, she promised herself. If she stood a chance of bringing home any winnings, she imagined it would be from the archery tournament. She only hoped she hadn't been so foolish today as to ruin her chances tomorrow.

“I am absolutely famished,” she admitted, Under normal circumstances she would already be rummaging through the cupboards beside her sister, but lifting anything heavier than a loaf of bread sounded like a terrible idea just now. “If you’re offering, I won’t refuse.”

She hesitated a moment, then added casually, “I did see Cassimir compete today.” The words slipped out with a touch too much cheerfulness to be entirely innocent. “A rather lively match, if I remember correctly.” Brigit leaned against the table, trying to look comfortable despite the aching in her ribs. “I suppose your husband-to-be is in a foul mood tonight?”

They both knew how he took defeat: particularly in front of a crowd and while Brigit suspected that his anger tonight could be dangerous, she couldn't quite let the thought of him falling miserably (and before her, too!) from her mind. Brigit gave a crooked little smile as she wondered how he should feel to know that Brigit had outlasted him (that was its own victory!) and she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I suppose if the house comes crashing down around us tonight, we shall know why." It would all be because of Cassimir Malconaire and his fragile little ego.

[forgottencillian]

Hart & Raven | Cillian & Brigit

"How does Rosie manage all this," muttered Cillian with an irritable sigh as, for about the fourth time, the antler fell away.

It was perhaps foolhardy to try to assemble a real antler to a white-washed wooden mask, but it was, notwithstanding, what he had done. He'd found two perfectly recognizable shed antlers lying on the forest floor, after all, and it was true that they were hefty, but it was easier than trying to...fashion false ones. Still, this exercise in fashion setting had left him with renewed respect for Rosie and her many such endeavors.

He'd also borrowed some green fabric from her, which he'd used to fashion fairly nondescript clothing, and all that was left was to complete this completely stubborn mask which, in truth, he didn't particularly wish to wed, anyway, but it was better than losing his alter ego. Lord Ormond was too valuable an asset, he told himself, to risk in so cavalier a fashion. No, this was all for the best, and so he bent once again to his task.

He'd been blessedly spared from making much clothing, one way or another, beyond the occasional repair. He had forgotten how greatly he disliked the activity. Cillian's thoughts and feelings on the matter of Ciara Varmont were more complex than he would like but, this morning, as he slipped ran his fingers over the fresh noble clothes she had given him, he was glad of it. The one Rosie had made for him, nearly two whole years ago, had gone very nearly threadbare in spots, given all the strange things he undertook while wearing them and the fact that they had come to him already a touch worn, a mixture of the half-tattered Ormond standard he'd claimed from the battlefield, and of Lord Malconaire's own clothing. While he thought, nonetheless, he'd probably keep those initial threads his whole life long as a reminder, he was sure that sooner or later court would start to note the increasingly shabby manner of his dress, and today he was to be on full display. But today, he was not dressing either as himself or as Lord Ormond. He was to play someone else entirely.

Donning the green raiment, including his antlered mask, he completed the look with a green bycocket to which he added a red feather. He exhaled slowly and, making off with a Malconaire horse (no one but Brigit was like to notice, and Brigit was unlike to begrudge him the use of the steed, as he was not to be riding the poor creature into any of the melees or jousts and thus would expose the beast to no harm), he rode to the spot, a familiar field outside of Stafford where, once, the queen had been accustomed to welcoming her people for dances and celebrations and the seasonal festivities of the year.

It was the dawn of the day of the archers, and he dismounted quickly, letting the horse into the paddock and handing off the reins quickly to Percy, there, lest someone recognize the creature from Malconaire. "Wish me luck," he said to his friend before making his way to the field where the archers were beginning to assemble.

Excitement for the hefty reward had indeed been piqued. Glancing at the long line, he could see that many were those who had come from far, indeed, including accents from other parts of the empire, itself.

How many have come here to make their fortune, only to watch so much of it slip away, already, to the greedy emperor and his lackwit son, already? They must feel desperate to get whatever's left...

Ahead of him, Cillian saw a huge, boorish man shove a much smaller person. "Outta the way!"

"Hey!" shouted Cillian, reaching out to steady the person. "Wait your turn like the rest of us!"

"What're you wearing, mate?" rumbled the boor, shocked out of his anger.

Cillian smirked. "A forest crown," he joshed, openly laughing at himself, managing to diffuse the moment. "Mind your own business."

The boor breathed a contemptuous laugh and looked away.

Cillian turned to the person he'd so rudely jostled with a smile. "Steady now?"

[forgottenbrigit]

If Brigit was truly going to do anything for Malconaire and her sister, it would be today.

She'd managed to advance into the second round yesterday, but it had been luck and Feidlimid's skills alone that had managed to get her even that far: without either of them, she never would have stood a chance.

In hindsight, she wondered if she should have risked entering that, at all? Her chance of winning had been so slight to begin with, it had likely not been worth the risk she'd made to enter. As soon as she had heard what was being offered to the winners, she'd abandoned all thoughts of reason. So desperately had she been praying for some help to come to Malconaire, it seemed as though this might be the very answer to it. It had not mattered that it was Roderick Varmont, himself, who was offering her aid.

But now, as she stood amongst the line of men competing in the archery portion of the tournament, did she wonder -- even if she did win, would the Emperor part with so much so willingly to someone like her? And what would happen to her if it was discovered that she had been a woman?

Those thoughts would have to wait: it was much too late to withdraw now and if she meant to win, she could not allow herself to be distracted. It had been announced that she would compete against Edmund Varmont in the first round. While she relished the idea of beating him, she realized that she did not know what she was up against. While she had heard that Edmund was often thought to be inferior to his brothers and uncles when it came to jousting and sword fighting, he had presented himself well enough in the previous days that Brigit wondered if he hadn't improved upon himself.

Her eye was so intent upon him, that she didn't realize that she stood in the way of a man who was barreling through the crowds and was nearly knocked to the ground. It was only by the quick reaction of another that she kept from loosing her balance altogether.

Brigit might not have recognized him from afar, but there was no mistaking his voice. The man in the antlered mask was Cillian and while she had not known it before this moment, there was so surprise at this realization. If she had been impulsive enough to enter the tournament, she should have known that Cillian would, too.

Brigit's own disguise was simple. She had worn some clothes Rosie had made her for working in the stables and had paired them with an old leathered vest that had once been her father's. It was ill-fitting, even though it had been one he had worn as a boy, but beneath her dark green cape, it made her chest and shoulders appear broader than they were. Her hair had been pinned up and tucked beneath her hood and she wore a simple black mask around her eyes.

Brigit wondered for a moment if she had managed to fool even Cillian, but through his mask she caught his look of surprise when he looked into her own.

"Don't be so surprised."

Her voice was lower than normal and this sorry attempt at a man's voice wasn't likely to fool everyone (certainly not Cillian, if she hadn't been discovered already), and so she had kept as silent as she could until this point, but she couldn't help but speak to him, now. And since it would be hypocritical to be furious with him, and so she could only delight in the fact that she would not be here to face this alone. "You can't be the only one to be in on the fun," She winked.

[forgottencillian]

"Don't be so surprised." She winked. "You can't be the only one to be in on the fun."

Shock diffused into delight, and, all at once, he asked himself why he had been surprised at all in the first place. Of course she would be here, of course she would find a way to fight for her family, even when strictly barred from doing so. Cillian, of all people, was the last to gainsay her in this -- in truth, he admired her all the more for it. Cillian looked away, laughing softly despite himself, fierce pride bubbling up within him. That's my girl, he thought. Even now -- or, perhaps, especially now -- he couldn't help but love her. She was too bold, too bright not to adore.

Had he been either of his siblings, he knew, he would have tried talking her out of this, and perhaps he should, but he wanted too much for her to succeed. He knew what it would mean to her, and what it would mean to Malconaire, too. She deserved the chance to fight for what she believed as much as any of the rest of them, perhaps more so -- she was a Lady of Malconaire, and the rest of them only servants. This was her guardians-given role.

"Right you are," said Cillian, smirking. "I'm sure your teacher would be proud," he added, returning her wink with one of his own. "All the very best of luck to you," he added, heartily.

He didn't need to ask what she would do with her winnings, either, should she make a success of the thing. He knew her faithful spirit too well to doubt it. Much as it would serve Astaira if he could make a good showing of it, himself, he couldn't help but hope she would win.

He realized, then, that he didn't know what she was calling herself or who she claimed to be. "Remind me, lad," he began, softly. "You're...from Malconaire? Or, do I seem to recall that you work for Lord Ormond?"

Knowing as she did who Lord Ormond really was, these days, he wished to remind her in this way that, if being from Malconaire was too suspicious, he would certainly vouch for her as Lord Ormond, if it came to that, though he very much hoped that it did not.

"What's the name, again? You must forgive me. In all the excitement, I seem to have forgotten it. Not to worry, though," he added. "I won't make that mistake, again."

[forgottenbrigit]

Brigit laughed quietly beneath her hood, the sound low and bright with mischief as she folded her arms across her chest. “My teacher may rue the day he ever instructed me,” she said, tilting her head slightly toward him. “For I know very well that he has entered the lists today, and I mean to beat him swiftly.”

She shifted her stance slightly, lowering her voice again in her attempted imitation of a man’s tone. “Bran O’Connor,” she said, giving the name with a faint, deliberate smile. She knew he would understand the choice immediately. It had felt right to carry her father's name with her today.

She had planned to say that Bran had come down from the North -- removing him as far as possible from Malconaire -- but when Cillian suggested Lord Ormond instead, her eyes gleamed behind the mask and she gave a small nod. “Aye. That’s the one,” she said. “I work for Lord Ormond.” What better lord to claim than one who did not truly exist? It was a safer lie to tell. Brigit leaned slightly closer and added with mock seriousness, “Though I’ll tell you plainly, he’s a dreadful lord to work for.”

She paused just long enough to let the words sit before continuing dryly, “Charming? Certainly. Handsome? No doubt. But unreliable, reckless, and inclined toward very poor decision-making. In a year, I'm afraid Ormond will cease to exist, if he carries on as he does.” Then, when she was fairly certain no one nearby was paying them any mind, she gave him a quick, conspiratorial wink.

For all the danger of the moment, there was a strange comfort in realizing that they were both here, both disguised, both determined to make something of this mad venture. Brigit felt an unexpected surge of relief knowing she was not entirely alone in the madness of it. If either of them was discovered, it would be a disaster, but if they were careful, perhaps they could even help one another. She only hoped Cillian did not decide to do anything particularly foolish before the day was through.

Straightening again, she tipped her head toward him. “And what about you?” she asked, voice still low beneath the mask. “What is your name, sir?” Her lips curled faintly. “I promise I won’t be offended that you forgot mine, as it seems I cannot recall your's either."

[forgottentristan]

OOC | Tristan & Brigit

hihi! so obv tristan ~does have a favorite malconaire ;D but i def think he's fond of all of them!!! but he does worry abt brigit esp, i feel like, bc tristan is also well aware of roderick's ~beliefs abt women's role in society and obv brigit doesn't fit into those things and yeah!! he wants her to be happy in her life, but he also fears that won't happen so long as roderick's in charge and, frankly, he doesn't believe that roderick's shackles will ever be loosed from astaira atp! he's seen him lay low enough countries to fear that just isn't possible...

[forgottenbrigit]

tristan is a better person than brigit is, b/c she doesn't really care what happens to him ;D

okay no but like while he isn't ~exactly~ a varmont, he does have ties to them ... not to mention his literal job is to protect roderick (ew), so brigit does have a problem w/ that. she also isn't quite sure about the calanions??? like she's not a fan of any of them just because of their ties to the varmonts -- but honestly both godfrey and amira had the potential to be able to change brigit's mind on them down the road -- depending on what happens (and tbh so does tristan if she gets to know him!)

that being said, for now -- I don't think she's a fan? Honestly, I think she feels about him how she feels about Sebastian where like -- yeah they totally seem like a great, genuine, upstanding guy but there is nO WAY that they actually are!!! and so Brigit remains suspicious.

Also, Idk that he's that obvious about it, but if she EVER suspects that he has feelings for Eithne!??!? Then Brigit def won't like him. He's not worthy to even think about her sister, ty!!!

[forgottentristan]

brigit said *michael bluth voice* 'her?' when she saw tristan and i frankly love that for her <3333333333 no but honestly that makes perfect sense!! these ppl ruined her life!!! and i do think tristan gets that too frankly! i feel like he tries to respect those boundaries and those feelings and largely tries not to encroach on her space and honestly!!! brigit's feelings re tristan kinda echo ~tristan's feelings re tristan too lakjsdfkjsdjkf but that's another subject entirely alksdjfjkdsf

no but honestly finding protecting roderick repellent and not trusting the calainons in general (godfrey and amira, anyway!) is a good move no lie lakjsdfdsf it'll also be interesting to see how things progress w godfrey and amira too! i would say that edmund and tristan are def the calainons she's likely to have seen the ~most of bc the other two are largely fixtures at court whereas these two come regularly to malconaire

tristan is defffff actively tryna hide that he's in love w eithne but honestly he ~is desperately in love w her!!!! tbh i think he's mostly kind of a bg/shadow presence at malconaire, just sorta basking in the pleasure of being near her/her friend and he def doesn't expect anything to happen there or really...on some level even ~want it to bc he firmly believes she deserves wayyyyyyyy better than him!!!! that being said, i do think he can't always ~entirely hide what he's feeling esp when he thinks no one's looking and/or arthur or cassimir were/are esp hot and heavy etc so like!!! just out here having a time ig but yeah if brigit observed some of those moments over time (bc i do think he ~does generally have a pr good poker face from growing up at court etc) then she might have a pr good picture of how he's really feeling but yeah its been two years and i do think he comes to malconaire a good bit, so yeah she'd def have had some time to make her observations, etc, so yeah!! honestly i leave it entirely up to you whether or not you think she knows!

also, tristan ~did participate in the pyre walk (he literally had no choice and tried to help the victims at cost to himself, etc, but he ~did still do that thing) so like idk if brigit might know that or not (he's not tryna hide it/does at least ~think ppl know that but it was ~deeply trauamtic and like...he does not talk abt that time yknow) but obv its def a big, red, glaring strike against him if she does! lakdjsfkljsdf

so yeah!!! he would not blame brigit at all!!! and would probs just tryna give her her space...and probs feels like he probs shouldn't go to her home...but he also can't resist seeing eithne honestly plus now he kinda wants to check in on her bc its bcome obv to him now that she is ~not doing ok and she's actively gone to him abt that so he is here for her no matter what!!! so yeah!! lakjdsflkjdsf

[forgottenbrigit]

okay, so since it has been two years and I do feel like brigit is super used to watching strange men have things for her sisters (and especially eithne lmao) that I feel like she might suspect it of him??? especially since he does come to malconaire so often and like, I'm sure it seems like it is under the pretense of being there as security or whatever for the varmonts, that doesn't phase brigit!! (honestly I do think that brigit does also tend to error on the side of caution with this one and finds it better to assume that a guy is into her sister than to assume that he isn't!!)

also brigit:

every other guy who ever comes to malconaire: *stands there looking in the general direction of one of Brigit's sisters*

brigit: *sharpens knives* EXCUSE ME!! are you lOOKING at my sister???

guy: no, I would never. she's not my type at all??

brigit: WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S NOT YOUR TYPE?!?!? do you have literally no taste or ???

it's just fair to assume that you can't win with brigit tbh ;DDDD

I can see where she would have started wondering just wHICH sister it was tbh and then, upon closer observation, has narrowed it down to likely eithne but yeah! anyway she may accuse him of it, especially if she's feeling particularly upset, but tbh he wouldn't have been the first guy that she probably wrongly accused of such feelings, but brigit would rather be safe than sorry ??? although now she might have to ask herself the really tough question: in the case of an arranged marriage would Tristan actually be the better option over Cassimir!??!

So I can't remember the particulars of what happened with Brigit at the pyre walk (I do remember that Valentina was able to stop her being taken??). Basically, I can't remember how far that went, like was Brigit briefly arrested and then set free or did Valentina interfere before it got that far??? Because if she did get taken/or was almost taken/perhaps it was Tristan who came for her?? (If not, I can see where she would at least know -- or suspect -- that he was certainly part of it!! Also, any rumors she's heard about him trying to save people she doesn't believe, unless she knows someone, personally, who was saved by him because that would definitely alter her perception of him haha, but maybe that is something she can learn down the road? for now, I feel like she is very distrustful of him and wants him no where near her family!!!)

[adorationx]

Centurion (2010)

[forgottenbrigit]

Meetings in the Dark | Brigit & Aria

The tables had been piled high with food. There had been delicacies from all over the world -- most of the dishes Brigit had never seen before. And, almost if by magic, they never seemed to to dwindle - even as the guests refilled their plates two and three times over. She had never seen so much food in one place in her entire life, and it surprised her all the more to find that a selection of fruit and bread and cheeses had been left in their rooms that evening: as though any of them could have eaten another bite.

Brigit could not remember the last time she had laid down upon a soft feather bed, while having a full belly and a roaring fire to keep her warm. She had been sure that she would fall asleep straightaway, but although her body was tired and comfortable, her mind was restless.

The palace was crawling with Varmont soldiers and she feared for the guardians who were meant to protect this place. She had not seen them since her arrival and it left her wondering: Were there any of them left here at all? Was there even anyone brave enough to leave them an offering upon the hearth? And could they access it, even if they had wanted to?

When the room had grown quiet -- the only sounds were of her sister's soft breathes and the crackling of the fire, Brigit got up from her bed. She took as much of the food as she could easily carry and bundled it up in a cloth. Draping a blanket round her own shoulders, she lit a candle and decided to brave the dark halls of the palace.

Brigit planned to say she had gotten lost, if any guards spotted her wandering about (surely they would easily believe that -- she was, after all, nothing but a silly girl!), but she was determined to make it to the great hall. It had been the one place she had ever seen the guardians who lived here: even though that was years ago now.

Her memory served her well, even in the dark, and she managed to find her way with only one wrong turn.

The great hall was cold and dark: the great fires and torches that had illuminated and warmed it during the festivities had long been extinguished. For a moment, everything was still and then she saw a shadow move in the darkness.

Someone else was here.

Brigit had come too far now, to loose her nerve, and holding the candle higher she moved forward until the shadows fell away and she recognized the familiar face.

"Your Highness." They may have been alone in the middle of the night, but Brigit was determined to still show the Staffords the respect they deserved. Whatever Roderick Varmont had declared that evening, was nothing to her.

Brigit's eyes fell upon the hearth where Aria had already left an offering of her own. "You haven't forgotten them," Brigit managed. Whether Aria was here because she was deeply religious -- or deeply defiant given the Varmont determination to wipe their religion and traditions from existence -- Brigit could not tell, but she was overwhelmed to see her there.

It gave her hope.

[forgottenarias]

Aria had awoken with a start that night, her head spinning so wildly when she bolted straight up in bed that she thought she might be sick. The night had been a blur, everything that had happened after she'd stormed away from the great hall.

Aria realized in that moment she was freezing, looking down to realize she'd fallen asleep in her dress from that night, not having bothered to change.

"The wine," she suddenly thought to herself, remembering Eilia walking her back to her room a few hours earlier. Much of that had been a blur.

"The Hearth cake," Aria suddenly stood, though her entire head started spinning and she grabbed the post of her bed to steady herself. She and Eilia had been laying the plans for a hearth cake offering that night. It hadn't just been with Roderick--there had been others who she and Eilia had told of the tradition. Perhaps someone had left it. Perhaps she might see a Guardian there.

When Aria's head and stopped spinning, she began walking towards the door. There had been guards from time to time outside the door but, as she pushed the door open, she saw that night there were none-- Aria assumed they too had consumed too much wine during the festivities. Glancing around, Aria noticed a plate of bread and some dried meats sitting by the door, clearly meant for Aria when she finally awoke from her wine induced slumber.

Aria snatched up the plate and made her way into the hall, realizing immediately as she stepped onto the stone floor she'd lost her shoes at some point during the night. If anyone came across her, it was clear she was a princess no longer.

The castle was silent but seemed more alive that Aria had remembered it in years. Was it the Guardians, trying to break through whatever invisible veil hid them from her now? Had the plan worked?

Despite having to stop once thinking she might be sick, Aria finally made her way into the Great Hall unnoticed by anyone else. The fire was gone and the only light came from the moon shining in through the grand stained glass windows, casting strange colored shadows Aria cut through as she approached the fireplace... and stopped.

Nothing. Nothing was there except a few dim embers that would go out at any moment.

Aria stared at the empty hearth, void of any offering. She felt wracked with shame. She and Eilia had be so hopeful that they might be able to do something that could be an offering to the Guardians, but they'd failed. She'd failed-- she'd let her emotions take control and selfishly let her sorrow consume her. Her father would be ashamed.

The sound of someone else in the room startled Aria and she realized that she was being an utter fool in this moment. Ready to make some rambling explanation of how she was trying to toast the bread on the remaining embers of the great fire, she turned around only to realize it was Brigit who was approaching her, not a guard or anyone who might be a Varmont spy.

"Brigit?" Aria's voice cracked, her throat dry as she spoke. She coughed, trying to clear her throat. Why was Brigit still here? Her mind was clearing, slowly... the weather. The weather had trapped the guests here.

Aria looked down to the plate in her hands and then to the plate Brigit was holding. The plan she and Eilia had contrived together had failed. It had failed before it had even begun-- Roderick had always meant to make his announcement, to further degrade the Stafford name for all of his court and Astaira to witness. They never could have saved the Guardians that night.

"It doesn't matter," Aria whispered to Brigit. "They're gone. I haven't seen them since he came here. I haven't heard them in months. We failed them, just like we failed all of Astaira."

Aria was only half way aware of what she was really saying in that moment. Her head was spinning; she felt as if she might be sick. All she wished to do was lay her head down on the cold stone of the hearth, but resigned only to sink down, sitting on the edge of the hearth, dropping the plate next to her with a a clatter.

[forgottenbrigit]

Brigit was at Aria’s side before the clatter had finished echoing, the candle’s flame trembling in her hand. She set her own bundle down without thinking: bread, fruit, the little comforts she’d stolen from abundance, and dropped to her knees beside the hearth. “Aria,” she said, soft but urgent, and reached for her hand, curling her fingers around it to anchor her. “Look at me. Are you alright?” Even in the thin moonlight she could see how pale Aria was, how the color had drained from her face as if the night had leeched it away.

“Do you need water?” Brigit asked, glancing toward the shadowed hall as if she might conjure a cup out of stone. “Do you want me to get you back to your quarters?” Her voice gentled, but her grip stayed firm.

When Aria whispered that they were gone, Brigit’s throat tightened. She followed Aria’s gaze to the bare hearth. "No,” she murmured, fierce in her gentleness. “Not all hope is lost.”

She leaned in closer, until their heads were almost together, her words pitched for Aria alone. “They’re still here,” Brigit breathed. “At Malconaire. At Lorcan.” The confession slipped out before she could stop it, before she could weigh the danger of it, before she could remember that palaces had ears and their stones repeated secrets. “They are not strong,” she added, voice shaking just slightly now with the risk of it. “But they are there. Aria, I’ve seen them.”

The moment the words left her, Brigit’s heart lurched. She glanced up at the vast hall, the stained-glass shadows, the empty darkness between columns and she half expecting a guards to step forth from the shadows. This was a dangerous place to admit that one had seen the guardians. Roderick himself may step from the doorway at any moment and declare her a witch.

But her eyes returned to Aria’s, searching. “You… you can see them too, can’t you?” Brigit whispered, and for the first time she felt some relief that she may not be the only one. “Tell me I’m not alone in it.”

[forgottenaoife]

Lovely Lunch || Brigit + Aoife

"Bridie?" Aoife called into the stables, a basket hanging off her arm. She rarely called her older sister by her childhood nickname but having seen Cillian scowling in the kitchen garden (most likely due to the arrival of Edmund and Arthur Varmont), Aoife could only assume her sister was down at the stables alone.

"Oh good," she grinned when Brigit appeared from of the horse stalls. "I've brought lunch," she announced, holding up the basket. "I thought you might rather eat out by the pasture with me..." she paused. "The princes are back."

Some of the princes were back. Sebastian had not come with Edmund and Arthur that day, which is why Aoife was sure Eithne had proposed she take lunch down to Brigit that afternoon.

"Come on," Aoife looped her arm around Brigit's and walked them away from the stables. "Eithne gave us the last two lemon cakes! Did you happen to see who left that basket of fruit on our doorstep?" Aoife inquired of her sister. "I thought perhaps Eithne had asked for it to be delivered from the market but she was just as confused as the rest of us. Cillian was going on about us being blessed by some higher power. Either way... I suppose we should be thankful for one last round of lemon cakes before the cold season returns!"

[forgottenbrigit]

"Again? Gods above, haven't they anything better to do?"

Their horses were not in the stables, which led Brigit to believe that they had crossed over on foot while visiting the stronghold on the riverbend lands. It was especially irritating when they traveled there so informally. Brigit would have appreciated the warning.

She sighed, part of her wanted to interrupt whatever private conversations they'd hope to have with her sisters. "Does Valentina or Cassimir know that they are here?" Brigit asked. She didn't especially want to see the Varmonts today and while her step-family didn't have much to offer her, she could always count on Valentina throwing her own children in the way of the princes so at least Eithne and Rosie would be spared their attentions.

"Ah, Eithne is a goddess!" Brigit proclaimed, happily, "These lemon cakes aren't her way of bribing me to stay away from the house are they?" She asked, raising her eyebrows suspiciously. "If they are, I think she's underestimated how fast I can eat them." Brigit tried to sneak a glance into Aoife's basket, "What else have you brought us?"

The case of the mysterious presents had been one that had been nagging at Brigit for sometime now. She had once been suspicious of them, but when the gift baskets started to occasionally contain thoughtful presents for each of them -- it became clear that whoever was sending them was someone who knew them, and knew them well.

She never would have guessed it was a Varmont prince who had been presenting them with these silent offerings. While she would have never put it past them to try to shower all four of them with food and presents to gain their affections, she was certain that it would be in a very public manner that would have left no doubt as to their benefactor.

"I've never seen anyone actually leave them, have you?" Brigit asked, "Not even from a distance ... I wonder if maybe it is someone from the village?" It seemed a bit far fetched, since she knew the villagers had enough problems and although she was knew that they were grateful for whatever help the girls had been able to give them, she also knew that they did not have any extra food to spare -- let alone enough coins leftover to purchase things like books and music boxes.

It had to be someone with money, but who on earth did they know with those sort of funds who would do such a thing?

"Or maybe it's Cillian," She began -- only half teasing. "I wouldn't put it past him to gift us with things he's stolen from the Varmonts whenever he goes to see Percy."

[forgottenaoife]

"I think they're more of apology lemon cakes rather than bribes," Aoife offered with a grin, though she knew that was the intent behind Eithne sticking them in with the rest of their luncheon. While the other three sisters had grown used to and even welcomed the Varmont princes, they all knew that their arrival made Brigit go on the defensive.

"Let's see..." Aoife lifted the floral embroidered linen napkin off the stop of the basked to allow Brigit to see inside. "Appears as though she's included some sandwiches... some of the lovely cheese Cillian brought from the village... an orange?" Aoife raised her eyebrows, looking at her sister. "Aren't we the lucky ones?"

The mystery of the parcels left at their back step had been confusing the sisters for weeks. No one had dared to let their step mother find out about the gifts-- especially not after the most recent one that contained rather elaborate gifts that seemed tailored to each of the four Malconaire sisters. "I haven't seen anyone leaving them either. I had thought perhaps it was someone from the village as well but..." Aoife paused. "The things left last week wer so specific to each of us, were they not? The music box plays 'Maiden of the Valley...' Do you think the a coincidence or might someone know that song is one of my favorites?"

Her face fell at Brigit's mention of Cillian. He would know exactly what sort of gifts would brighten the day of all of her sisters!

"Oh no... do you think it might be Cillian?" Aoife's face fell at the thought. Cillian seemed to grow more reckless with each passing day, especially when it came to the Varmonts. "What if they are things he's stolen from the Varmonts and one of the princes were to recognize something when they are here? Oh Brigit, I'll confess I'm worried about what trouble he is going to get himself into!

[forgottenbrigit]

"And an orange?" Brigit laughed, "You cannot convince me that Eithne is not trying to bribe me -- even if only a little," She teased. Either way, Brigit had decided that she would let the Varmont princes be for today. She had Aoife's company all to herself, which meant that Sebastian Varmont could not have it and while she detested Arthur Varmont, even Brigit had to agree that he was a lesser of two evils and better company than Cassimir.

"Did either of the princesses join their brothers today?" She asked. Brigit would still worry about Rosie, but if the youngest princess had come to see her friend, her fears would be less pronounced. Cassandra Varmont might be one of the silliest girls Brigit had ever met, but her company did not make Brigit quite as anxious as her brothers.

"I don't think it can be anyone else, Aoife. Unless ... " She paused, making sure that they were far enough away that no one would hear her, "... it could be Ronan."

Perhaps more so. Whatever had happened to Ronan -- wherever he was -- Brigit suspected that he wasn't living inside the law. Anytime she heard that someone had mysteriously come upon the money to pay their taxes or had seen a hooded man keep Varmont soldiers off of their lands, she liked to think it was him.

"Either way, I would bet anything that a Frost is behind it. It might be a coincidence that your music box plays "The Maiden of the Valley', but there's been too many others besides. It is someone who knows us all well. I don't think anyone else knows that about you, aside from Percy? Do they?"

And the Staffords, of course. But Brigit knew that there was no likelihood in that theory, just now.

"I'll ask Cillian about it," Brigit said, having picked out a spot by the lake for their picnic. "I can always tell when he's hiding something."

After placing a blanket on the ground, Brigit laid on her back enjoying the warmth of the sun. Winter had melted away and today felt like the first real day of spring. In this moment, there was no where else she'd rather be.

When Aoife voiced her concerns about Cillian, Brigit raised her head and propped herself up on her elbows to look her sister in the eye, "Don't worry about Cillian, Aoife. If anyone can talk himself out of a scrape --it's him. And yes, I know -- sometimes he can be completely moronic," And frustrating, "But he's smart. And he he has Percy to help him -- both getting in and out of the palace and to stop him from going too far. Besides, he knows he has to be cautious. If he's not, then what's the point?" If Valentina ever tried to sell another servant away, Cillian had to be ready.

[forgottenaoife]

"Perhaps she is trying to bribe you a little," Aoife finally relented with a small smile. "I did not see the princesses today... it appears to be Prince Edmund and Prince Arthur." Aoife paused. "Eithne seemed a bit uneasy at their arrival. Do you think the Princes have heard about... Cassimir?" she asked Brigit, not able to bring herself to actually speak the words that Eithne and their stepbrother were engaged

Aoife was glad they were the only ones who had come. After everything that had happened the night of the Ice Ball, she couldn't bring herself to see Sebastian now, not after what Cillian had told her.

"It does seem like something a Frost might do... you are correct. I do wish they would not waste what little they have on us," Aoife didn't mean to seem ungrateful, but she couldn't imagine what the music box might have cost someone. Aoife would never say such a thing aloud but a part of her had hoped it might be Percy, despite the fact she knew it would only be done in friendship.

"And if it is Ronan, I wish he might know that we'd much rather see him than little trinkets..." Aoife replied with a sigh. Things had been difficult, of course, following the war. It was chaotic, people going this way and than, trying to figure out who was in charge both in Malconaire and of Astaira. Aoife didn't like to think of that time if she could, think about trying to deal with their father's death and the terrifying day they almost lost Brigit to the emperor's Pyre Walk. Aoife knew she'd seen Ronan in those days following the battle but she couldn't remember anything about what was said and then, days later, the reports of his attack on the Varmont soldiers and she hadn't seen him since that day.

"Does Cillian tell you if he's alright? Ronan? I know he knows where his brother is hiding out..." Aoife picked at the orange's peel a bit. "And I know he knows we'd never tell anyone where Ronan is..." Aoife's finger pushed through a weak point in the skin of the orange and she began peeling it slowly. "You're right, of course. You always manage to get things out of Cillian the rest of us cannot."

[forgottenbrigit]

"I hope not," Brigit replied, "I thought the one blessing from that dreaded union would be that at least we could count upon Arthur Varmont to cease his visits. In fact, if I see him here again, after this, I shall be very happy to remind him that Eithne is engaged and that he can no longer pursue her."

Brigit might not mind how her sister treated Cassimir as his fiancé, but she did mind very much about her sister's reputation and would not see it tarnished by anyone -- let alone an entitled Varmont prince. "And if he refuses to leave, I will draw him off myself. I don't care if he is a prince."

Perhaps it might not end well for her, but she was certainly convinced in this moment that it would be worth it, if only she could drag him off Malconaire lands, herself.

It was not lost on her that Sebastian Varmont had not come with his brothers and while he tended to visit the least of the three, she felt that her sister was not disappointed in this and, she hoped that perhaps this would mark the end of their friendship, too. "Prince Sebastian is not with them?" She asked, "I can't say I am sorry for it. I know he has gained your friendship -- but that I am still convinced that is because you are all kindness and understanding," She touched her sister's hand, affectionately.

While Brigit feared that one day Aoife might suffer for it, her empathetic nature was something she loved most of all about her and hoped that she should never lose it (And certainly NOT because she made the mistake to trust a Varmont. The Varmonts had taken so much from them, Brigit would not let them take Aoife, too).

"But Aoife, I -- you will promise to be on your guard?" This was not the first time Brigit had warned her sister against Sebastian Varmont, but she felt it was something that always warranted a reminder. If anyone could be convinced of Sebastian's sincerity, when there was none, it would be Aoife.

"I will admit it is a bit extravagant," That didn't exactly fit the profile of the Frosts -- especially given their current situation. She considered that perhaps the music box had been stolen, but she did not think that they would ever steal from anyone other than the Varmonts, themselves, and the music box was Astairan made. Even if it had made its way to a Varmont family, somehow, and Ronan had taken it, she didn't think Ronan would risk their safety by giving a stolen item like that to them.

She suspected that there were not many music boxes like that that had been made.

"But I also can't believe it could be anyone else. Can you?" She paused, "Perhaps Ronan has amassed a great fortune off of the Varmonts and is living like a king, somewhere, at their expense." It was only a joke, but part of her hoped it was true.

"Cillian doesn't talk about Ronan, much." Which Brigit understood. It was dangerous that even Cillian knew where to find him and she knew that both Cillian and Ronan only meant to protect them by keeping Ronan as removed as possible only ... only she did secretly wish that Cillian would have at least told her.

But then, things hadn't really been the same between them since ---

"But I gather he is alright. I think he would have said if he wasn't. I wish we knew more about what he was up to, but -- every time I hear that something has befallen Roderick's men, I do like to imagine that Ronan was behind it," She winked.

[forgottenaoife]

"Oh Brigit," Aoife sighed at her mention of chasing Prince Arthur from Malconaire. "You mustn't do such a thing! I know you think them terrible but... I do think he will have enough sense to know Eithne's honor is at stake. And if he is not... Eithne will never entertain him as she once did."

Aoife had already seen a change in Eithne's demeanor-- she seemed to be more distant from everyone now that her engagement had been announced. Now that Cassimir had brought in new servants-- first for the kitchen, of course, to elevate Eithne's workload-- her sister seemed unsure of how to fill her day. Often she was away running errands to the village (understandably-- their step mother was prone to bursting into tears at times when she caught site of Eithne!) and would go to her room once dinner was concluded.

"I don't think you should worry about him showing up, unannounced, after today," Aoife concluded, pulling apart the slices of orange, handing half to her sister.

Aoife bit into a slice of orange, herself, to give herself a chance to think about how to speak of Sebastian. He had not been back to Malconaire since she'd seen him after the Imperial Princess's ball. The conversation had been tense.

"Prince Sebastian has not come with them, no," Aoife replied after a few moment. She looked down at her hands and then back up to her sister. "I promise you I won't let me guard down, Brigit. I know I wasn't out in the village like the rest of you but I remember what happened at the battle. I won't forget it."

"It is extravagant," Aoife confessed in response to her sister's assessment of the gift that had been left for her. She had hidden the music box under her floorboards so that Valentina might not find it. Aoife had, just the night before, been turning it over and over in her hands late in the evening, trying to find any clue as to its provenance, hoping she might discern something from the carved designs. She'd finally let its melody lull her to sleep, no closer to figuring out the answer.

Aoife smiled at the thought of Ronan hidden in a cave somewhere in Malconaire guarding a pile of gold like the dragon and its hoard in one of the old Astairan fairytales.

"You know as well as I do that Ronan would never keep a fortune all to himself. He'd have rebuilt the village entirely by now if he could, I would think," Aoife knew her sister was well aware of this of course.

"Bridie, have you... has Cillian..." she stopped, looking down at her hands, then back up to her sister." Cillian told me something the night of the Imperial Princess's ball, Bridie, and I've been keeping it secret from you all these past weeks and... and..." she stopped.

"Will you promise me you shall do nothing rash if I tell you? I don't... I couldn't stand if anything happened to you because of what I said.. You must promise me... please."

[forgottenbrigit]

"If he is as good as you make him out to be, then I shall not have to." Brigit said, giving her sister a wink as though she meant this entirely in jest -- if only to soothe her fears. As it was, she couldn't have been more serious. It was a chore already to keep Cassimir away from Eithne, especially now that he felt her truly held a claim upon her -- she did not need for Arthur to continue his pursuit on top of everything else.

"If Arthur does stay away ... " She began, eyeing her sister, "... we may see less of his brothers, too."

Brigit could not say that she wasn't hopeful that this would be the case, but she also did not like the idea that Sebastian would have gained her sister's friendship, only to throw it away. She suddenly realized how conflicted she would be to discover if this had been the case. On one hand, she knew Aoife was better off without him in her life. On the other, she was outraged by the thought that anyone (even someone as horrible as a Varmont) should treat her sister's friendship so casually.

In the end, Sebastian Varmont could do no right in her eyes, although she was not so sympathetic to his situation to consider this.

She was going to ask Aoife if she would be alright if she lost Sebastian's friendship, when her sister hesitantly brought up a conversation she had with Cillian.

Brigit sat up straight. She did not like the look of concern upon her sister's face and it did nothing to convince her to promise that she would not do anything hasty. Already she disliked that her sister had been put in this situation where she felt she ought to keep something from her.

"What is it?" She asked, as calmly as she could, "Aoife, what did he say?" A beat, "I promise I will not do anything rash, but I cannot say I will do nothing at all until you've told me what it is."

[forgottenaoife]

Aoife nodded in response of Brigit's assessment regarding Arthur and his brothers time at Malconaire now that Eithne was engaged. "I think you might be right. I do think Sebastian often came to act as a chaperone, of sorts, for his brothers... so perhaps without Arthur's visits..."

Aoife realized she might be a bit sad if Sebastian's visits were to cease, even after their last tense conversation. He had a calming presence and Aoife found she could converse with him, or not, and it did not feel forced or uncomfortable. The pair had walked through the woods of Malconaire, mostly in silence, many times and it did not feel an odd thing to do with him.

Brigit's reaction to Aoife's statement about Cillian already caused the younger of the two sisters to worry. Brigit had always said the Varmonts were trouble, that the Malconaire sisters should not be so warm and welcoming to them. She'd been right.

"I won't tell you not to be upset, but please..." Aoife reached out and took her sister's hand in her own. She already hated that she'd brought this up to Brigit. The knowledge would only hurt her. "... please just... nothing rash, Bridie, please."

Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then, opening them, finally spoke.

"The night of the ball at the Citadel, Cillian saw all the Imperial Prince's flags hanging in the hall. Cillian... he cannot remember which, but he knows it was one of them who lead the battle... here.... the Battle where Cillian fought with Father and..." Aoife stopped. She couldn't say it, but she knew that Brigit would understand.

She was gripping Brigit's hand tightly, as if that would somehow calm her, keep her from being too upset by this news.

"Bridie, you didn't see anything that day, did you? Any... any banners in the distance? I mean... it suppose it doesn't really matter which of them it was, but..." she stopped again, looking at Brigit.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, there is nothing to be done... and now I've ruined our lunch."

[forgottenbrigit]

Brigit went very still. For a heartbeat she only stared at Aoife, as though her sister’s words had not quite resonated. “One of them,” she repeated. She then pushed to her feet, the blanket rustling, her hands fisting and unfisting as if she could wring the thought out of the air.

She began to pace, short and furious, as her boots ground into the grass. “No,” she said, more to herself than to Aoife, as if denial could undo the last two years. “No, I do not believe even they could be so duplicitous.” And yet the bitter edge crept in anyway. Because she could imagine it: could imagine three charming princes smiling over their cups, letting Malconaire feed them, letting her sisters speak of their father and the village and the home that had been, and never once flinching. Never once shrinking with shame. Brigit’s mouth tightened. “How do you look someone in the eye after that?” she demanded, voice sharp. “How could they sit at our tables, pretend to be your friends, and act as though all is so simply forgiven?"

Then she stopped, abruptly, as if she heard Aoife’s plea beneath the words. She could feel her body straining toward action, toward the easy satisfaction of storming up to the house this instant and demanding to know the truth (it was unlikely that Sebastian wasn't there, too, but she figured she could find out what she needed to know from his brothers).

But she had promised Aoife so, instead, Brigit sank back down onto the blanket with a rough exhale, turning fully to Aoife and taking both her hands, “You have not ruined our lunch,” she said firmly, as though the very idea offended her. “You have told me something I had a right to know.” Her gaze flicked, distant for a moment, toward the manor. “And, Aoife, there is another truth we cannot ignore: it may not have been one of the princes at all. It could have been their father or one of their uncles." Though Brigit privately feared this was not the case, she had no desire to cause her sister pain or anguish over the subject until it could not be avoided.

“But I am going to find out,” she said, quieter now, “We deserve the truth. And because if one of them has been playing at kindness while having committed such atrocities against us … "

Brigit’s eyes drifted, unfocused, as she tried to drag memory up from the two years ago. “I can’t remember the banners,” she admitted at last, and there was frustration in it and an anger at herself as much as anyone. “I remember the sounds ... the screaming and the sound of steel and the crack of timbers in the fires. I remember the sky turning wrong. I remember Father --- ” She stopped, breath catching, and forced herself onward. “But the colors? The sigils? I can't remember.” She blinked hard and looked back at Aoife. “If I saw them again, maybe I would know. Maybe. Did Cillian describe them to you? Anything at all? Because I know Roderick’s well enough and I'm not sure it was him, but the rest of them…” Brigit’s mouth tightened. “I never cared to learn their symbols."

[oracle-fae]

Cawdor Castle Gardens, Scotland

[forgottencillian]

"I have to get home!" Brigit x Cillian

It was all going according to plan, this ruse within a ruse of the resistance's own devising; all of it -- until Bran O'Connor was also seized. Cillian had been prepared for the inevitable arrest of his brother, even in his crafty disguise as Battleman Run, (if Roderick had ever bothered to learn even a few words of Old Astairan, well, the rebels would have been foiled much more easily!) and that of their cohorts, but Bran was...a wrinkle. It was true that they'd anticipated the arrest of all native Astairans to win, but Bran was a folly for the simple fact that the archer's true identity was Brigit Malconaire -- and Brigit Malconaire most certainly knew the Frosts.

"She'll want to join," Ronan had hissed to Cillian and Saoirse (whose own response had been an eye roll) during a quick, stolen tete-a-tete to deliver the news when Cillian had discovered it.

"Then she'll join," said Saoirse.

"She can't!" said Ronan.

"Why not?" said Saoirse.

This question had stumped their brother.

"It won't come to it, anyway," Saoirse pointed out, at last. "She won't win. Cillian was her teacher!"

But she had won. And now she was imprisoned in the dungeons Roderick had had installed in the one-time cellars of the Citadel. They were decidedly good dungeons, really, had it not been for the Staffords' incisive knowledge of the Citadel, and its many, many secret tunnels. Or for Saoirse's abilities to knock out the guards with a little witch's brew-tinged wine. Or for Cillian's ability to climb in from above and swipe their keys, undetected, even before she'd got to that.

Dropping down outside the cell in question when he saw that the gaolers were finally and wholly out, Cillian leaned against the bars, grinning as he glanced at his beleaguered cohorts caged within. His eyes were laughing. "We have got to stop meeting this way."

No one, save Brigit -- or, as she was currently dressed, Bran -- was particularly surprised to see him. Kale laughed and Ronan, for his part, rolled his eyes.

Brigit's reaction, however, was one of astonishment. "Cillian!"

Chuckling, he reached for the ring of keys at his belt. "Good evening, Master O'Connor." He arched his brows. "Congratulations on your victory at the lists. Your instructor, whomever that mysterious, and doubtlessly roguishly handsome, genius may be, must be extremely proud of your accomplishment, I have no doubt."

"Yes," commented Brigit, dryly, crossing her arms (yet Cillian thought he detected a smile cloaked beneath her deadpan reaction). "Whomever that may be." She paused, pushing herself off the bench at the end of the cell where she and her fellow prisoners were sitting, and coming up to him at the door where Cillian tried key after key on the well-stocked iron ring clenched in his hand. Her voice was hushed, yet urgent. "Cillian, how long have you been involved in all this?"

Pausing as he extracted another useless key from the lockm and thumbed for the next, he flashed her a misschievous smile. "Well, that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

"This is what you've been up to in the woods!"

He shrugged. "What, exactly, did you think I was doing?"

"I don't know...brooding?"

"Brooding? What am I, a chicken?"

"You know what I mean! Since Papa and then I--"

Cillian shoved the new key in the lock a touch more roughly than he'd meant. His voice was a touch rougher than he meant, as well. "I know."

He cleared his throat. Gave her an apologetic glance, tried turning the key to no avail. Started again on the next one.

"You're keeping track of which ones you've already tried, right?"

He chuckled. "I hate to tell you this, love, but...this is not, in fact, my first jailbreak."

"Cillian, why didn't you tell us? You know we would have helped!"

He stopped, falling still for a moment. He heaved a deep breath. "Brig--" he stopped himself, looked sightlessly down at the lock a moment before turning his gaze back to her. "M'lord gave me one final command. Can't you think what it might have been?"

It was Brigit's turn for her eyes to drop, going sightlessly to his hands. She swallowed hard. "To take care of us." It wasn't a question.

"I can't break my word, Brigit. Not to him. Not...now. But not ever, really. I--The less you know, and certainly the less you're involved, the better."

"Well," she said, that old something fierce and stubborn, that he loved so well, flashing in her bright eyes. "I'm both, now."

Cillian's heart gave a little traitorous leap at that look, and his smile softened, eyes growing warm. His voice, when it came out, was low. "That you are." A beat. "Now," he added, clearing his throat and returning his attentions to the keys. "Let's get you out of this."

"Yes," Brigit placed both hands on the bars between them. "I have to get home. That celebration Valentina planned at Malconaire: they'll be missing me soon enough..."

"Right," muttered Cillian, reaching urgently for the next key. "Brigit, your sisters--You can't tell them."

He found her eyes. She looked steadily back. She said nothing.

Shaking his head, Cillian put the key to the lock. "Brigit, they--"

"No," said Brigit, quietly, reaching through the bars to stay his hand. Her skin was cool against his. She lifted her hand from his. She picked a new key. "This one."

Brow furrowing, Cillian looked at it a moment, before turning to her. Her face was sure.

He nodded. "All right." Dropping his key and taking hers, he turned it in the lock. The door swung open.

Brigit turned back towards the others. "Come on, boys. The door's open. Let's go." With that, she walked past Cillian.

Ronan patted his brother's shoulder as he passed. "I'll talk to her."

"Well," muttered Cillian. "That's comforting."

Laughing, Kale slug an arm around Cillian's shoulder as he walked out. "Isn't it, just? Soon enough, I expect," he said with a wink. "All of Malconaire will know what we're about."

"We were hoping to begin fresh recruitment," laughed Cillian, shaking his head as they strolled along. "Why not a whole county all at once?"

"That's the spirit, Frost! We're well past subtlty now, eh? What's the good in denying what we really want?"

Instinctively, Cillian's eyes went to Brigit's retreating back, the slight angle of her face as she turned to look at Ronan who'd come up beside her, the way the light of her eye seemed to warm her whole face in a single look. Only a moment. She looked forward, again, her face lost to him. A light seemed to go out in the darkness of the cells around them.

Cillian's laugh, when it came, sounded hollow even in his own ears. "I can't imagine."

[forgotteneabha]

OOC | Eabha & Brigit

BRIGIT!!!!!!! eabha lovessssss youuuuuu!!!!! honestly brigiti's feisty nature is an inspiration and probs helped keep eabha's head on right through all of this ngl!!!!!! i do think she's someone whose somewhere between eithne and brigit in temperament and so i think its really fun that she's bffs w them both even tho they're so different like <33333 i just picture so many cute moments w the three of them growing up!!!!!! w eabha being kinda the fulcrum between the two hahahah

i also think that, w malconaire ~kinda occupied and lorcan and hanthom def and v much occupied, eabha gets a bit of a respite visiting brigit in the stables and for a moment she can help her brush down the horses and chat and sort of ~not feel watched~ for at least two minutes put together which is great!!!! and lowkey pretend that all that didn't ~happen which is INCREDIBLE (and they're just tending the horses for some reason dont think abt it too much eabha!!!!!!! hahaha) plus, even in these circumstances, brigit somehow still manages to be the freest person she knows!!!! eabha's a big fan honestly lkdsjfkjsdf

[forgottenbrigit]

Yes!!!!! I agree (which is why I thought they'd all make great friends <33)

God, Brigit feels terrible for all of the Callearys (except for maybe Cormac who loves Cassimir so he gets zero sympathy from her lmao) and honestly as terrible as having Cassimir and Valentina hanging around your home is, having Rian might actually be worse???? At least Cassimir and Valentina aren't spies (yet) plus I feel like Rian comes with his own men, too, and I feel like the Malconaires have a lot more options to ~escape~ from them than the Callearys/Lorcans.

And yeah, so Brigit is v much up for Eabha to come and escape at Malconaire for lots of reasons (the least of these is certainly not that she absolutely adores her company!!) I feel like Brigit looks up to Eabha kind of like a second older sister tbh -- she has a lot in common with Eithne in terms of her position and I think that Brigit knows the work/dedication/love that these gals have put in to take over from their dads only to have it taken away from them from a bunch of weirdos who are also trying to marry their sisters??? (one is trying to marry his own sister and the other is trying to marry a married woman?????)

So this is an open invitation for Eabha to come over whenever she likes to hang out with Brigit and her horses <3 Brigit also adores those moments in her life that feel like how things were when she was younger and her dad was alive and there was no Valentina/Cassimir or Varmont problems and these times alone with Eabha is probs a nice escape for both of them!

[forgotteneabha]

BAHAHAHAHA cue cormac crying probs smdh alkjdsflkdsjf oh yeah i def think lorcan, esp now! w the escaped convicts running around! is under pr tight lockdown, just like stafford, w ppl having to sign in and out and only allowed even that at like ~certain hours~ and yeahhh i feel like its only gotten worse!! CASSIMIR AND VALENTINA AREN'T SPIES YET BAHAHAHAHA (but also...yeah alkdsjflksjdfkjsf) eabha: 'at least rian isn't planning to accuse me and my siblings of witchcraft!' aklsjflksdjfkdsf no but yessss basically i do agree w ~all of that!!!! and yeah i def think rian has his own men who're probs pr diehard bc i have to imagine their core is made up of former stafford-ians who followed his dad in exile and alkdsjflksjdfkjdsf

"one is trying to marry his own sister and the other is trying to marry a married woman?????" heLP IM SCREAM al;ksdjflkjefkljas kflja big yikes! alksjdfkljsdf and that's not even touching on roderick and his whole marriage deal lalksjfksjdf all the women of astaira: 'can the men who were raised in other countries and then come into this one to claim a piece of it and marry an astairan woman just...NOT pls & thnx' lkajdskfljsdjf

omg them both like remember the good ol' days before roderick killed our dads and we lived in peace?????? SOB

also also how does/did brigit feel abt the various beach escapades? i def feel like eabha was always tryna show her cool shells and fossils that'd washed up...and avoid washed up horseshoe crabs ;DDDDD but idk how interested brigit was in any of that??? either way tho brigit was ~also getting pressured into various boat rides and such too bc eabha is also a great lover of sailing and basically all things to do w the sea!!!! even now, obv there are PLENTY of things to miss in her life!!!!!! but she also can't help but long for the ocean and she feels like she's missing some part of herself that can only exist at the seaside and just!!!!!! but anyway alksjfljsdf all that being said, if brigit didn't esp like the sea or whatever, eabha was always happy to come to her and do things on the dry land too!!! <333333

also, obv she def got some training in riding bc like...that's def a necessary skill for a ruling lady, really, id think hahaha but i hc she got whatever love/real skill she has re: that from brigit!!!! <333333

[forgottenbrigit]

brigit wants to drive out all such men because they are a (literal) plague!!!

okay brigit loved the beach escapades!!! The forest is her #1 always, but I do think she also loves the ocean? (honestly my girl just loves be outside, in general, but the ocean if pretty cool!) And probably learned to swim and even sail with the Calleary clan and while I don't think she's a ~nerd~ ;DD like Eabha, I do think she loves to encourage her and probably gives her anything interesting she does find, even if she has no idea if Eabha will think it is cool or not!!! (lbr she probably teases her and rolls her eyes sometimes if Eabha gets too nerdy but ~affectionately~)

I feel like Brigit was also a little TOO fearless about the ocean as a kid and just wanted to keep up with them and like .... definitely got caught in a riptide or two when she was little and probably had to have Eabha rescue her, so now she's a little more cautious about how far out she goes and when, but I do think that she still loves it and loves to go out sailing, too, and I think she loves just the free feeling she gets when she's out on the ocean?? I don't think she knows enough to like go sailing on her own, but there's definitely a big part of her that wishes she did know, so she could just sail her sisters out of here!!

but omg she'd love to go riding with eabha (on the sand!!! by the wateR!!! and also, ofc, in the forests of malconaire, too!!) and yeah I can see them exchanging riding/climbing/sailing/swimming tips to each other as kids while dragging each other off on adventures in both the woods/by the ocean

[forgottenbrigit]

This is Where I Haunt You | Brigit & Cormac

Brigit did not remember deciding to come to Lorcan: she only remembered being on the road, the rain needling her face like thrown gravel and the wind tearing at her cloak as if it meant to strip it from her shoulders. Cassimir’s words rang in her ears: ... Cormac’s idea ... a sensible match ... Finn Calleary ...

She had made her peace, however thinly, with Eithne’s fate. She had swallowed that bitterness because Eithne had chosen it, because she had weighed the cost and said yes with open eyes. But Aoife? Aoife, whose fate was to be decided by her step-brother and another lord who had no claim upon her?

Brigit would never allow it.

She wanted nothing more than to throw all of her anger towards Cassimir, but even she knew better than that. Cassimir was reveling in his victory and would not give in so easily, but Cormac Calleary, she was certain, would. And as it seemed he was the one who had the audacity to even suggest the idea, it seemed only fitting that he would be the one to face her fury.

She would deal with Cassimir later.

Brigit rode straight through the gates of Lorcan without waiting to be announced, mud splattered up her skirts, hair half-fallen from its pins and plastered dark against her cheeks. A servant called after her; another reached as if to stop her, but Brigit did not slow. By the time she found Cormac, she was soaked through, boots leaving dark prints on polished stone, and her eyes bright with a temper that would have made even stronger men hesitate.

“What right do you think you have,” she demanded, voice cutting through the chamber before anyone could find their manners, “to decide the future of my sister?” Brigit did not bow. She did not wait for leave to speak. She stood before him like a storm, rainwater dripping from her sleeves to the floor. “You did not speak to Eithne. You did not speak to Aoife. You did not even think to ask whether she would consent. And yet you plan her life as if it meant nothing."

She laughed then, sharp and humorless, a sound that startled even her. “Finn Calleary,” she said, “Your brother may be charming, Lord Calleary, but charm does not make a cage any kinder. And Aoife is not yours to offer. I have just endured watching my eldest sister barter her own happiness for survival,” Brigit went on, “And I will not allow you to set the same trap for Aoife.” Her gaze locked onto his, unblinking. “You will dissolve this arrangement. Today. You will tell Finn it was a mistake, and you will tell Cassimir the same.”

For a moment she said nothing more. She realized, dimly, that she must look half-mad with her loose hair and torn cloak. Good, she thought, Let him be afraid.

“If Aoife is to marry,” Brigit finished, “it will be because she chose it, with full knowledge and a willing heart. Not because you decided it suited you.” She took a step closer, “This is not a request, Cormac Calleary. It is the last courtesy I will extend.”

[forgottenroisin]

THE HOUSE OF MALCONAIRE AS THE QUEENS OF TAROT

eithne malconaire as QUEEN OF PENTACLES (nurting, big-hearted, down to earth, resourceful, trustworthy/indfference, disappointment, loss)

brigit malconaire as QUEEN OF SWORDS (honest, astute, forthright, witty, experienced/cynical, distant, sharp-tongued)

aoife malconaire as QUEEN OF CUPS (loving, tender-hearted, intuitive, psychic, spiritual/mysticism, darkness, insecurity)

roisin malconaire as QUEEN OF WANDS (attractive, wholehearted, energetic, cheerful, self-assured/aggressive, selfish, insecure)

[forgottenalistair]

OOC | Alistair & Brigit

so! as i mentioned in my note to cassimir, i do think alistair shipped cassimir/guin at one time...till he got to know cassimir better and i was thinking...maybe brigit was the one who helped open his eyes to that? i mean, i think cassimir does ultimately speak for himself so no worries if you don't think she'd be spilling the beans to him to a member of roderick's own council lakjsdfkldsjf but yeah!! it occurred!! but yeah even if not i def think he came to malconaire a couple times thinking if it could be a home for guin etc so yeah!! also i do think he's going to valentina's disaster gala so there's that too lkajsdfkljsdf

[forgottenbrigit]

jlsdjfldjsf god I feel like Brigit would have ALSO shipped guin/cassimir at one point because "they probably deserve each other!" and would have wanted to be like "he's such an awesome guy ... please take him (and his mom!) away!1!"

but there would have been a big problem with this because a) Brigit wouldn't have been able to think up a sINGLE good quality to go on when trying to "talk him up" and b) ultimately she would NEVER want cassimir to be in a position to rule one day??? (or at the least be married to a ruler) so she would reluctantly have to talk anyone who would listen out of that arrangement (Brigit is now clearly the ONLY reason why cassimir x guin didn't happen ;DD)

I don't think Brigit would really like Alistair/give him a chance to prove that he's actually a good guy/to her his associations with the varmont fam really do speak for themselves!! However, she would definitely give him her honest opinion/unfiltered opinion of cassimir (and bring receipts!)

[malefixium]

the trees you grew up with have not forgotten you. their branches still whisper your name in the breeze and their roots remember the paths your feet once traced through their shade.