“Oh Holly, love, oh Holly, the rout has now begun
And we must go a-marching to the beating of the drum
Come, dress yourself all in your best! And come along with me,
I’ll take you to the cruel wars in yonder Barony…”The merry strumming of a lute accompanied a marching tune emanating from a caravan on the road, a string of heavy carriages and soaking up the Adrestian sun as they lumbered slowly up the road toward the Oghma Mountains.
“Oh Harry, dearest Harry, mind well what I do say:
My feet, they are so tender! Oh, I cannot march away.
Besides, my dearest Harry, I am with child by thee—
Not fitted for the cruel wars in yonder Barony…”The music seemed to go unappreciated by the glittering mounted knights accompanying the caravan, but the source was utterly oblivious to their weary looks. It was a tan, smiling blond man riding alongside one of the carriages, having foregone his saddle in favour of lounging along the back of his horse like a couch, idly fingering a lute on his chest.
“I’ll buy you a horse my love, and on it you shall ride!
And all of my delight shall be walking at your side;
We’ll stop at every alehouse and drink when we are dry,
Stay true to one another, get married by and by.”The song should have continued, but instead he let his voice peter out into melancholy, fingers playing gently on the lute until the sound almost faded into the clopping of hooves. Heaving a long, contented sigh, he finally opened his wine-coloured eyes, looking wistfully into the window of the carriage next to him.
“Clarissa, will you marry me?” Jorah asked casually, still picking quietly at the lute strings.
The woman in question paused her reading, the question blindsiding her. A whirlwind of emotions ran through her in that brief second before she closed her book and shifted so that she could face Jorah properly. She rolled her eyes at his lackadaisical riding habits, but couldn't help smiling fondly at her friend.
“If you were a different man and I a different woman, perhaps. But I certainly would not do you the disservice of denying your heart its horizons and I certainly would not permit myself accept a proposal so languidly delivered.” Clarissa chuckled at the question, putting her book aside on the cushion in favor of Jorah's strangeness. It was starting to grate on her anyways and Jorah, as frustrating as he could be, was always a welcome source of entertainment.
“Why are you suddenly entertaining the idea of marriage, let alone with me?” Jorah made a little hurt noise, clutching his heart and letting his lute dangle off the side of his horse as if he’d been shot in the chest. The horse, fortunately, was a patient beast accustomed to his antics, so it paid him no mind and plodded dutifully along.
“You wound me,” he complained, sitting up at last. Of course, he was sitting backwards, but it was a start.
“I thought it was perfect. A long journey, music… and the chance to solve both of our problems!”He leaned over into the carriage window, propping himself up on the windowsill with his free arm. He looked much more like a snake oil salesman than a lovesick fool proposing to his beloved.
“Just think! We get married, I make you Archduchess, you get to lead the Roundtable and the duchy of Riegan to glorious prosperity, and I never have to hear my father complain about the future of the family ever again!” He beamed at her, proud of himself.
“It’s the perfect plan. Marry me.”Clarissa covered her mouth as she laughed, shoulders shaking.
“Firstly, your father will be with the Goddess and he'll still find a way to complain about the future of your family. You're not giving the man enough credit; I'd not be surprised to get a letter from you after he appeared to you in a nightmare. Secondly, you know full well any suitor I entertain will need to come to Edmund, rather than expecting me to attend him. I doubt that would bode well for relations between our people should that happen.” Clarissa settled back, pulling her red hair back away from her face.
“Thirdly, I'm not one of those blushing maidens you sneak out to entertain when you're bored. I won't let you get away with whatever you wish just because you play a pretty song and smile in my direction.” She flicked his nose to emphasize her point.
“Though, I suppose you'd make a good distraction for escaping some of the less engaging conversations I find myself in at state functions. If I could get you to willingly attend, that is. But the answer is still no, lover boy. You'll have to find some other poor damsel to keep on your arm, though you're always welcome to come hide at my home If you need a break from everything.”“So you admit my songs are pretty,” Jorah replied, smiling wide as he pulled himself out the window and righted himself on his horse. He gave Clarissa an easy shrug.
“I’ll take that as a maybe, then. Door’s always open if you change your mind!”Taking the reins at last, Jorah strapped his lute to his back, gazing out at the Oghma mountain range steadily rising before them. It was an unfortunate reminder of the purpose of their trip, but he wouldn’t let it get him down. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment, drinking in the crisp springtime air, the Adrestian sun on his face, and the uplifting drumbeat of hooves - all hallmarks of adventure. It was kind of a shitty adventure, under close watch by his retinue as they marched him off to a new prison for the next year, but after years stuck in Derdriu,
anything beat staring at the same old city walls.
“We’ll probably get there in a day or so,” he commented after a long pause, opening his eyes. He glanced over to Clarissa, holding his chin in pantomime thought.
“How long do you think it’ll take for me to get out of there..?”“We'll, let's see. Comparing your decade of escape artistry to Garreg Mach's centuries of experience and taking into account your pigheaded determination… A year, give or take. I couldn't imagine my childhood friend abandoning me to the cold, frigid mountains or have you found another to be taken with so quickly.” Clariss teased. She couldn't help the delighted bubbly feeling in her chest at the thought they’d be at
Garreg Mach in a day. It was a dream of hers - studying in the shadow of the holiest place in the world, standing amongst the headquarters of the Central Church and basking in the divinity she imagined radiated from every statue, every stone.
“Though, perhaps you'll find yourself enjoying your time at the Academy. If not for the studies, at least for the people. You have the perfect chance to meet a melting pot of Fódlan's finest, brightest, and, in some cases, wealthiest.” Clarissa offered excitedly, a bright smile pointed his way as she took his place leaning on the windowsill.
“Meeting new people and experiencing a new place is exactly what you like, even if you do have to suffer through school work. There are still be plenty of practical lessons for you to work your energy out on.”Clarissa’s excitement was infectious, bubbling out of her and into Jorah like an overflowing spring. Jorah felt her giddiness as his own, his chest starting to flutter even though the prospect of a year of supervision and
school excited him none.
“You know, you really make it hard for me to maintain my resentment when you get like that,” he teased, unable to help the giddy grin that broke over his face.
She had some good points, though. Despite all the bitterness that accompanied his trip, he was so elated to get out of Derdriu at long last that he never really convinced himself to be angry about it. Realistically, he and his father both knew how this would end: he'd be a miserable failure at Garreg Mach, his father would disown him
at last, Delia would take over the family (as she should have all along), and Jorah could sail off into the sunset without having to worry about his father’s disapproval ever again. How Duke Riegan thought this was a good idea was beyond him; he dangled disownment over his son’s head like a threat, but the prospect of a broke and nameless life of wandering intrigued Jorah much more than it frightened him.
“But I suppose you're right,” he admitted, shrugging. From the corner of his eye, he gave Clarissa a sly look.
“I hear some of the prettiest girls in Fòdlan live around Garreg Mach. Granted, a lot of them are in the convent, but I’m sure we can work something out.”Her eye twitched.
“Jorah von Riegan, you will absolutely not work something out. You will leave those poor women alone and maybe, just maybe, consider settling in before permitting your provocative intent demand center stage.” Clarissa snapped, meeting his look with an unimpressed glare.
“I doubt you’ll have much freedom to explore any such dalliances anyways; Garreg Mach is known to put their students through their paces thoroughly so even you may find yourself too worn… No, what am I saying? You delight in the chaos you sow and you’ll find that as relaxing as I find a quiet evening with a book. I pray they know what they signed up for.” Clarissa sighed, a shake of her head as she conjured up images of the trouble Jorah was bound to get in.
“And if they don’t, I’m sure they’ll find out soon enough. You’ll be the reason some of those professors will leave with more gray than they started.” She huffed a little laugh despite the annoyances her future held.
“At least I won’t be bored. Not that standing in the holiest of holies and learning in the shadow of the Central Church would be boring by any means, but our future classmates and rivals leave plenty to be imagined. I haven’t quite had the time to dig into who all is attending, even from the Alliance, so it’s still all an exciting surprise!”Studying at Garreg Mach had been a dream of hers for the past five years, one she finally seized the opportunity to realize. And now, staring up at the looming mountains they marched inexorably towards, she felt a twinge of nervousness. The Alliance was familiar ground. She knew the paths to tread, her footing sure and steady, and she knew where to go and… She didn’t keep her Crest quiet, but she certainly didn’t declare it in every passing conversation. She’d found meaning and purpose in the burden in her blood and every step she took was a testament to her dedication to the Goddess’s calling. Yet now she carried this curse to the heaven’s themselves. Was this a mockery of the Goddess’s will? Her eagerness too forward? Perhaps she should be penitent or fearful.
“I’m glad you're attending with me, Jorah.” Clarissa spoke it softly, eyes on the mountains ahead.
“I’m going to miss going to our waterfall though. We’ll need to find a new hideaway.” Jorah couldn’t suppress the startled laugh that bubbled out of him as Clarissa’s mood suddenly shifted, giggling at the rush of indignance that filled his chest and subsided just as quickly. Honestly, after so many years, he was surprised he could still get such a rise out of her! But he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
But he wasn’t blind to the hint of anxiety that crept in as she spoke, either. That was another unfortunate habit of hers: anytime she thought too long about something, she found something to worry about. That was why Jorah, as he’d often recommended to her, simply chose not to think about things much at all. Life was so much breezier that way!
“A place as old as Garreg Mach is bound to have some secrets,” he mused, stroking the short stubble of his traveling beard. Clarissa had a point; he knew every stone in the walls of Derdriu, but nothing about Garreg Mach. The prospect of probing such an old and storied place for nooks and crannies got his mind racing even now, his eyes searching the distant peaks for hidden valleys even at this distance.
“Surely mountains have waterfalls, right? And they’ll have good strong horses to… borrow. I’m sure we’ll find someplace suitable.”“But honestly, I’ll be surprised if you even remember my name once we get there,” he teased, taking on a dramatic tone.
“You’ll surely see the storied halls of Garreg Mach, delve into their bottomless stores of ancient knowledge, and swiftly forget the charming, handsome boy from the dalliances of your youth. Sad, but inevitable. Such is the way of star-crossed romances.”“Jorah, I would never! Even if I wanted to, you wouldn't let me forget you. I have no doubt that if we didn't meet in a day here, I'd find you picking the lock to my door or playing as ridiculously as you could in the middle of the night just to irritate me into seeing you.” Clarissa laughed at his dramatics.
“We will need to find time to explore the monastery because I agree it must have some ancient history tucked away, and I want to know it. Thankfully, I have a charming, handsome boy from my youth who so happens to enjoy more than his fair share of mischief as my friend. Garreg Mach won’t keep its secrets from us!”Jorah chuckled, the smile on his face growing much more sincere.
“No ma’am!” he declared, throwing his arm forward like an officer declaring a charge.
“Garreg Mach won’t know what hit it!”Beaming in the afternoon sun, Jorah suddenly remembered that he hadn’t finished his song. It being bad luck to leave a marching song incomplete, he whipped his lute back into his lap, strumming the same tune with a vigor to it that the prior lilting melody lacked.
“Oh, cursed be the cruel wars, that ever they should rise!
And out of every county press many a man likewise;
They took her Harry from her, likewise her brothers three,
And sent them to the cruel wars
In yonder Barony…” 
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