His eyes immediately turned towards the newcomer. Rouen knew who it was from hearing the youthful yet familiar tone of his voice. The red-gold armor that he wore identified him as one of the Kingsguard.
"And not just any member," Rouen thought
"Ser Jaime Elayne," he said to one of the oldest members of the Kingsguard and one of the few men he respected enough to give more than the passing greeting.
"Your entrances are as dramatic as ever. Did you learn something on theatrics from the acting troupe last week?" he chuckled.
Jaime's youthful face bore a distinction to his gaunt and aged face, though both would be an extreme contrast to a human of their equivalent age. Rouen almost considered them kindred in nature. Halflings born into a time of human history that discarded and depicted their kind as equivalent to demons. They had lived decades beyond the normal human lifespan, and lived through the rule of three different kings.
That however, was when the similarities ended.
He was familiar with the rumors of Jaime's roots. Born out of the forced union between woman and beast. A union of hatred entangled with lust. Found by King Lucian and raised well enough in arts to become the finest knight in the Kingdom, both in skill on the battlefield and manner in the court. Defender of duty and title and honor and integrity. A stylish and charming ladiesman in court. Culminating in the fact that he had reached that peak of youthful maturity yet never giving away to the decay of old age.
Rouen himself on the other hand was born into a long dynasty of nobility ruling over the islands known as the Stormlands. A dynasty that embraced its human and inhuman roots with equal pride. He remembered having a happy childhood surrounded in aristocratic splendor and a loving yet stern family. He had always been bookish and quiet, showing disregard for the troubles of the outside world. At least until he was forced from home, out of noble tradition, upon the day of his maturity.
And so after a short voyage and a series of unfortunate events he became a Kingsguard. And what a Kingsguard he was. His reserved nature made him prefer more discreet methods of solving issues and threats over the flashy shows of power and strength preferred by Jaime and the others. He gained a knack for undercover work, depending more on investigation and wit versus might and force. Subtlety and subterfuge became his weapon of choice. A choice that allowed him to tame the capital's criminal underworld in a year. And in the year following he founded the society of Veiled Men. His entourage of personal informants, spies, and covert operatives throughout the Kingdom.
Such actions hardly made him a good impression on court. He gained a shadowy and seemingly dark reputation that grew out of how things seemed to play out in threats that he was tasked with dealing. Missing people, strange suicides, a sudden uncovering of vicious secrets that ruined the reputation of a Duke who was threatening the Kingdom. The cloud of secrecy and fear drew away courtiers and aristocrats like repellent did to insects. Eventually they outright ignored him. He became part of the courtly background like an unpleasant decoration that one simply accepted as being.
"I prefer it that way," Rouen had thought, with a hint of spite. Courtly life only got in the way of work after all. Let Jaime and others play the game of appearances and earn the favor of noble ladies and men alike.
And now after years had passed, that same spite gave way to humor. How ironic Rouen thought, that Jaime, a half-demon born out of a common woman, had become the paragon of the greatest knights of the realm while he, a halfling, yet of a noble dynasty and powerful family, was largely shunned by the same aristocracy and had an unpleasantly sour relationship with the current King.
He drank from his flask, taking a larger gulp than usual. A flush of numbness ran through him.
"I am guessing the battle went well," Rouen stated matter of factly with a smile looking at the streaks of dried blood on Jaime's gold-red armor.
"And I take this as my cue to leave. I shall see you in the morrow Ser Clayne. I am sure the King will be most interested to hear of how the skirmish went. He will want all of us present in celebration of the Kingdom's great victory. Much-needed in my humble opinion. It has been too long since we have all been together at once, I shall relish seeing the old faces," he said with drops of sarcasm on the words "king" and "victory".
"Have a good night your grace," he said bowing towards the prince.
"Remember my words, one should always heed the advice of his counselors. It marks the difference between one who merely hears and one who listens, and we are in dangerous need of men who can listen."Rouen turned towards the doorway and walked toward the long hallway. At the end awaited he knew that his room awaited him, with a stack of parcels on his desk. Filled with words of events that had gone. Words that would have to be read and left to linger on in preparation for future plans and plots.
