[center][h1]ILLRIC THE BRAWN[/h1][/center]
[center][img]http://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/jeors_raven.jpg[/img][/center]


[center][i]Castle Tarrow, Keep Tower, Maester's Quarters[/i][/center]

[hr]

[i]Darkness, chains, cold. Evil things, grasping at his neck, twisting, squeezing. A sword bloodied and impaled in his gut. Eyes stinging from piercing sparks of blades clashing, and a rising din of fracas blaring in his ears. A distant, mounting, building sound. It sounded vile, dire, ancient. It sounded... Like... A r-[/i] Illric blinked awake, his nightmare at an end. It was the middle of the night, and he was lying in his bed, shivering. Illric turned over, and got out of bed. No point in avoiding work once he'd been roused. Still, the sensations his dreams had brought attention to left him shaken. He needed to find a way to limber up, as he made his stiff way around the room, lighting candles and feeling his back ache.

Illric began performing his morning routine, albeit in the very early morning. He started developing a fine sheen of sweat on his bare chest and face, when the raven arrived. He finished performing a few more repetitions of the sword forms that Ser Jakob had taught him on the road. Of course as a maester he didn't strictly speaking own a weapon or take up arms, but having had the opportunity to observe the fighting prowess of his friend the hedge knight up close, Illric had taken to practicing Jakob's forms when he needed an intensive bout of exercise in the mornings. Forms completed, and sweat shed, Illric grabbed a towel and dried off. He donned his robes, and drew his chains back out of his collar to shine brilliantly against the rough-sewn cloth. Still warm, the metal gleamed with his reflection slightly distorted by mist. Illric had thought he'd be able to remove his chain, only he found he preferred to keep it on at all times. It was a symbol of who he had become, and even during the most difficult of exercises where he might have been benefitted by the chain's removal, he persevered.

Illric's breathing was still laboured as he removed the scroll from the bird's ankle. He recognized it as a Cade specimen. [i]News from the front, from Lord Leoric perhaps?[/i] Illric unrolled the scroll and read it quickly by candlelight. Sent days ago, to warn of his lordship's arrival in a few days? Illric frowned, wondering why the Cade levies had withdrawn from the front at the very moment when Illric surmised they would be needed most. He put it out of his mind, deciding he would know soon enough when Lord Leoric arrived, most likely only in a few hours. It was fortunate then, that Illric had woken earlier than usual, and the maester was definitely an early riser. He gathered his thoughts, marshalled his energy, loose and well-stretched though he was, attention turning to the preparation of Castle Tarrow for its lord's return. 

Illric would need to track down Ser Raymun, as Castellan it would be imperative for the knight to be informed of his brother's impending return so as to put affairs in order. It might also be good for the Lady Sarisa to learn of her betrothed earlier-than-expected return. Of both members of the Cade family, or in Sarisa's case, soon-to-be Cade family, Illric was by far and away more comfortable dealing with Sarisa. She seemed a lovely girl, and amiable enough. It certainly helped that they were both newcomers to House Cade, and there was less glacial barriers to break down for a rapport to be made. Sarisa was a friendly girl, if shy, which was understandable. In fact, the Lady Sarisa was everything that might be expected of a young Lady betrothed to her Lord. She must've been a quick learner, well-suited to her role, and well-schooled in it at that. Though their conversations had been brief, Illric had definitely picked up on a sort of hesitation? Underlying her entire persona, she seemed to be restless, as though she'd done this all before. As though she did not truly believe that this time it would come to pass, to fruition. 

Of course, Illric was often told he read too much into other people. He still remember Gyles's jibes about Illric overthinking things, followed by his own reply that, "A maester overthinking things, would be like a lord overgoverning, or a hedge knight overtraining." [i]I miss Gyles and Ser Jakob, though I don't suppose that they'd take especially well to Tarrow, come to think of it.[/i] The trio had travelled the wild roads of Westeros, enjoying the open air, and the free-ranging wilderness that abounded within it. Tarrow on the other hand, was gloomy at best, bleak at worst. Many areas of the castle were left unlit, uncleaned, and untended to, for lack of habitation. Illric still remembered the day of his arrival, when he had learned that the Rookery had cobwebs and a thick layer of dust coating the walls. The previous maester had found a way to send ravens from the courtyard, and had decided that rather than trouble his gouty legs to walk all the way up the steps to the tower, he would simply do all his business from the courtyard. It had taken, and would still take a long while before the birds all knew to fly up to the rookery once more, and not down to the courtyard, looking for a man whose gout had finally led him to death's door. It had also been a harrowing task, cleaning up several decades-worth of dust, grime, and clutter. Finally though, the Maester's Quarters were starting to come alive again.

It was his finely cleaned quarters that Illric left, carrying a torch down several flights of stairs to the main castle in search of Lady Sarisa, and when he came to her door finally, he paused in hesitation. He could not tell from sight nor sound whether she was still awake at this late or early hour, depending on how one viewed it. Would it be proper to wake her, to warn her of her betrothed's imminent arrival? Or should he go on to find Ser Raymun, and run the risk of waking him up before he was wont to? It took Illric not a second more to remember the black look the Bastard of Tarrow had given him when he'd asked after the whereabouts of spare candle wicks, and in that moment Illric's mind was made up. He would do his best to arrange things on his own, and wait as long as possible before alerting the grim castellan of his half-brother's return. Lady Sarisa on the other hand, would probably benefit greatly from the news that Illric could provide, and so he knocked on her door. Illric put all thoughts of nightmares, dead maesters, and grim bastards from his mind, hoping that his voice sounded suitably respectable.

"Lady Sarisa? I have received a raven from my Lord of Cade. You will want to know what he says, your humble servant believes."

Illric cursed himself silently, [i]I sound like a midnight beau, coming to serenade her! Am I mad? Damn, my fool's eyes.[/i] Despite the fact that she was betrothed to another man, his lord no less, Lady Sarisa had most certainly caught Illric's eye. Much though he might wish she were in different circumstances, as a maester sworn and chained, he owed it to her, his lord, and himself, to quit pining after her and simply do his duty. He waited, deciding the best course to be remaining silent until she answered the door, no doubt with some snide remark belittling his rightly mock-worthy address.