Roderick Fray

“I told you honesty would be helpful and that was when you were explaining the situation.  Is this helpful?  Do you really think you’re helping right now?”  Roderick stared balefully at his companion.  “What ever happened to your unconquerable luck?”  He sighed, glancing back towards the horde chasing them across the frozen tundra of the north: a dozen or so bloodthirsty men who screamed and brandished weapons.  “No,” sighed Roderick, resignedly, as he reigned in his exhausted horse (upon which Danyl was mounted behind him) and both dismounted.  “You’re right.  We’re trapped.”

They were sandwiched between their howling enemies - and an icy precipice known colloquially as the Falls of Doom because it was a place men went to die.  They could not have possibly run in a worse direction.

“What might have been helpful,” countered Danyl.  “Would have been you trusting me to guide us in a useful direction for escape.  I’m the one used to living on the run!  Not you, living in your plush palace!”

“Plus palace?  Is that what you think my house is?”

“I’ve seen your house.  It’s a. plush. palace.  Mark my words.  You should have trusted me.”

Roderick grinned.  “Why would I trust you?  You’d been blatantly lying to me just five minutes before!”

Danyl shrugged.  “Granted.”

The two men turned to look towards their pursuers, again, watching them tear through the white snow, kicking it up all around them as they raced.

“I have a mad idea,” said Danyl.

“I used to like it when you said that.”

“Listen, we have to jump.  Old Man Jyles fell down this precipice last winter and he made it.  Granted, by the skin of his teeth and he’s the first person in thirty years to fall and live, but…we’re out to options.  We’ve got to jump!”

“Jump!  This cliff is literally called the Falls of Doom, Danyl!  The.  Falls.  Of.  Doom.  It’s not a complicated concept: if we fall, we are doomed.”

“I told you it was mad!”

Laughing, Roderick rolled his neck.  “What other choice have we got?”

Danyl’s lips quirked into a wide grin.  “Whatever happened to not trusting me?”

“Let’s be honest,” replied Roderick.  “This isn’t even the worst scrape we’ve been in this week.”  He gestured towards the cliff.  “After you.  You’re the lucky one.”

(…) At the French court, Henry Tudor had exchanged words with the diplomat and political theorist Philippe de Commynes, a man with a lifetime’s experience in power politics. Commynes, who had first encountered Henry on his arrival at the Breton court fourteen years before, was unsparing in his assessment. Henry, he wrote, was penniless and his claim to the English throne non-existent, ‘whatever one might say about it’. Henry was entirely self-fashioned, his reputation depending not on his lineage, but on his virtues, his ‘own person and honesty’. And, he recollected, Henry’s conversation was tinged with heaviness and resignation as he described how, since the age of five, his life had been an interminable sequence of suffering, evasion and prison. This was not, Commynes said, the talk of a king confidently expecting to recover his birthright, but of a man resigned to his fate. It was not hard to see why. A lifetime spent depending on the caprices and whims of others, the hopelessness and boredom of exile punctuated by false hopes, had culminated in an invasion whose meticulous planning had been thrown into confusion by the scrambled events of the last weeks. But as his small fleet set sail from the northern French port of Honfleur on 1 August 1485, Henry knew that he was, at last, taking his fate into his own hands. Even defeat and destruction were better than the alternative: the slow death of endless, fugitive begging around the courts of Europe.

“You’re too pretty to be a barmaid,” One of her customers said, as he took another sip of ale, “Where did you come from? You’re not from these parts. If you were, I’d know.” Amia stiffened noticeably at his words, for a moment afraid that he was there at her father’s request to take her home to the west. “Your hands are too soft,” He continue, brushing one of his hands against her own which had been resting on the counter. “And your eyes are too kind.”

She pulled her hand away from his abruptly.

He was handsome: it was the first thing she noticed about him, but there was something about him she did not like. He drank too much, flirted too openly, and had a hint of mischief in her eyes that made her uneasy.

He laughed softly, “I’m not going to hurt you. I only mean to please you.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

That toooootally makes sense and tbqh there’s like a 98% chance Alia will most def get hurt bc if/when any emotion comes into it, Roderick will probs run for the hills bc emotion?????? wut?????  Not to mention, in an au where Rowlin was like, “Sure, marry her,” then Roderick’s “secret” affairs would no doubt be notorious bc Roderick is like healthy relationships??????  emotions???????  chastity??????  like he’s literally never heard of any of that ok he’s a legit (heheheh) son of Karr I mean ;DDDDDD  And I think Roderick does care about Alia on some level and he wouldn’t mean to hurt her, he just is an idiot and doesn’t think about these things and WALKING DISASTER ZONE ALERT so Sysley’s pr dead on about this

Uggggh, poor Alia, though!  *huggles*  Yeah, tbh, Roderick wouldn’t want to hurt her at all and I mean, LOOK at her, he’s def v attracted to her, he just has emotional ADD and can’t stop and look at one when there are soooo many skirts out there to chase, and Alia’s great bc she’s kind, beautiful, and also comes w a hell of a lot of political perks, so Roderick’s like, “There’s literally no downside here.”  That being said, I think he’d make a TERRIBLE husband.  He literally has no idea about anything in marriage or like healthy relationships????  What even are those?????  Roderick doesn’t know.

Also, I feel like Isac is a little bit of a fail and it would be easy for Roderick to overhear something and then idk maybe he goes back to Renfry?

Alrighty, so given Isac slinking about and such, I’m sure Roderick has noticed this in the past, so he may have suspicions.  Tbh, he may not have cared tho for awhile.  However - and weirdly this may depend on Rowlin - the degree to which he reacts is a variable.

So, we had talked about how Rowlin might dangle Alia in front of Roderick, but then ultimately doesn’t want to be related to a bastard, yeah?  I can actually see this playing into things.  Ummm, depending how high Roderick’s hopes had gotten of that ~actually happening (like, what better way to prove to his father that he’s a worthwhile son, than by marrying Alia Stafford and becoming the heir to the Warden/this generation’s Moran bros, if not future Warden, himself?  So he’s actually hanging a lot on this idea).  But then, esp if it’s public humiliation style and at the last minute or whatever so he really got knocked down good and hard, I can see Roderick wanting to ~Archer voice~ rampage and I can see him basically following Isac till he hears something confirming and confronting him all “take me to your master” stylez (possibly in some degree of intoxication lbr) and like being all, “I’m in!  Let’s take this bitch down!”

Also, ngl, Roderick would looove knowing/feeling that he’s a valuable asset to the cause like “Heck yes!  See!  I matter!  Not bc of anything I contribute that someone else couldn’t granted...but we’re not gonna talk about that”  I mean, in an ideal world, Roderick would get to be Warden but tbh if he can be the runner up/someone more important than his dad and have the satisfaction of casting Rowlin down, he’s pr much in.

If it’s less of a blow, though, I think he might suspect, but Renfry might have to ~sweeten the deal a bit and sort of lure him into their cause, rather than Roderick stomping in and demanding a seat on the council bc “I can’t marry the sister he promised me?  I’ll pull him off his throne and sees how he likes me then” basically ??????