Rorick grinned as his stepmother assured him that she had plenty of dance in her both himself and his brother. Of course, he had been speaking in jest, but for all of Moira's many children and grandchildren, she was still willing to make time for him.
"Good to know!", he piped up as the older woman squeezed his shoulder. He looked up to her, both figuratively and literally, as the only mother he had ever known. He had been just a few years old when he passed, though he was told that she had been casteless, and had exceptionally red hair. He often wondered why both he and Garryn had such dark hair, when it seemed neither of his parents possessed such traits.
The conversation then changed to his elder brother, and it seemed that Moira was under the same impression that he was. That he was muddling through, but at least being very dignified about it. That was more than what he could probably accomplish, hence why, despite the assumption that he wished to somehow usurp his brother for the crown, he really didn't want his job. Neither had Garryn, but he seemed to be handling it with more grace than he could muster.
"Ha, give him time!", he then snickered at the remark about him not drinking too much. "So long as he doesn't do or say something stupid that gets us kicked out of Ferelden, we'll be fine. If he does, then so long as he let have some fun too.", he then added with a mischievous smirk.
"Seriously, once he's finished with King Byron and the looker in antivan robes, I'll talk to him.", he then spoke a little more seriously. Well, somewhat. Definitely lacking in the grace department.
[b]"As for me, I'm doing okay. Still feeling a little out of place, and like I need more to drink, but I kind of promised best behaviour, so...how's the rest of the family?" he trailed off, wondering just how his myriad of adoptive siblings were. Had he even met all of them? He couldn't remember, but perhaps that was simply a case of he'd had enough to drink already. Oh well.
"Good to know!", he piped up as the older woman squeezed his shoulder. He looked up to her, both figuratively and literally, as the only mother he had ever known. He had been just a few years old when he passed, though he was told that she had been casteless, and had exceptionally red hair. He often wondered why both he and Garryn had such dark hair, when it seemed neither of his parents possessed such traits.
The conversation then changed to his elder brother, and it seemed that Moira was under the same impression that he was. That he was muddling through, but at least being very dignified about it. That was more than what he could probably accomplish, hence why, despite the assumption that he wished to somehow usurp his brother for the crown, he really didn't want his job. Neither had Garryn, but he seemed to be handling it with more grace than he could muster.
"Ha, give him time!", he then snickered at the remark about him not drinking too much. "So long as he doesn't do or say something stupid that gets us kicked out of Ferelden, we'll be fine. If he does, then so long as he let have some fun too.", he then added with a mischievous smirk.
"Seriously, once he's finished with King Byron and the looker in antivan robes, I'll talk to him.", he then spoke a little more seriously. Well, somewhat. Definitely lacking in the grace department.
[b]"As for me, I'm doing okay. Still feeling a little out of place, and like I need more to drink, but I kind of promised best behaviour, so...how's the rest of the family?" he trailed off, wondering just how his myriad of adoptive siblings were. Had he even met all of them? He couldn't remember, but perhaps that was simply a case of he'd had enough to drink already. Oh well.
07-18-2022, 10:12 AM
