✓ | POOR JUDGMENT (A.FORRESTER)

Glenmores. Chapter Fourteen.

"Sorry to interrupt, my lord." Duncan spoke up, approaching the small huddle with following company. "Elaena?" Rodrik replied instantaneously, filling with concern for his betrothed. "She insisted on seeing you immediately," Duncan explained, with Lady Elaena stepping forward from behind him, followed by her brother, Arthur. "Lady Elaena," Talia addressed, approaching from Cynthia's side. "I hear we are to become sisters," Talia beamed, a smile etching onto her otherwise tired expression. "Talia." Elaena sighed, turning away from the young girl, saddened by her words. "Rodrik, can I speak with you? Privately." She then turned to her betrothed, voice displaying her imminent distress. Upon Lady Elaena's request, the residing members of the small council, that had gathered in the grove that afternoon, dissipated back to the trees, to give the remaining 4 the privacy they so required. Rodrik turned to the young girl at his side, who stood her ground persistently; though as it appeared the Glenmores had no qualms with her staying. Cynthia looked to the pair stood in front of her, her eyes drifting past Elaena to a second familiar face, one that merely smirked back at her, with a slight wink verging on his humoured demeanor. Arthur and Cynthia had always been rather close, especially since the engagement was announced. They were of the same age, and found they had many similar interests, thus spending time with one another came instinctively. The two old friends made faces at one another briefly, watching as the previous crowd finally scattered entirely, and left the grove in near silence.

"You remember my little brother?" Elaena continued, her voice low. It was only at these words that Rodrik truly acknowledged the company his betrothed had brought with her. "Quiver? Good gods you've grown." Rodrik exclaimed, clearly not having recognised the boy behind her. Cynthia, however, was more than capable of deciphering her old friends faces, even after several years of being separated, she knew Arthur when she saw him. "You could just call me Arthur now." He stated, his voice proving to be a lot deeper than Cynthia could have recollected. "But where's the fun in that?" Cynthia chimed, sending a small smirk in her old acquaintance's way. "I hope you don't mind us coming unannounced. But somethings happened. " Elaena proceeded, ending the banter where it stood. Rodrik immediately fell with concern, his eyes darkening to a familiar stern look as he watched the girl he loved become more anxious with every word she spoke. Cynthia too was worried, more for Rodrik's sake than her friend's. "I didn't know what else to do." Elaena spoke on, turning away from Rodrik's cool gaze. "You're always welcome here. We're to be married...you'll be calling Ironrath home soon." Rodrik replied, forcing a smile.

"Yes, well, um...that's why I came, actually." Elaena's uncertainty had Cynthia on age, as the way her voice trailed had the young girl believing she could be here to drop out of such an alliance. "Ludd Whitehill paid my father a visit at Rillwater Crossing...He told my father Gryff had 'subdued' you, and--" "And that my sister would make a fine reward." Arthur snapped, standing to his sister's side. This had pushed Rodrik, that was clear by the way his fingers slinked around his cane with such force the damned thing was soon to break. "As if I'm some token to be handed around!" Elaena's anger was evident in the way she spoke, and held herself. "You mean-" Rodrik began, but hardly had time to elaborate a sentence before Elaena pressed on. "He demanded I end our betrothal and marry his son Gryff instead." "What?" Rodrik's voice was dripping with such rage and fury that any sane man, unfamiliar to the Forrester temper, would have flinched. "Ludd threatened my family...told my father if he refused we'd all be slaughtered along with you." "Father acted the damn coward." Arthur exclaimed, clearly accompanying the theme of anger that ran through the small group. "He agreed, Rodrik. I am to marry Gryff Whitehill." Elaena's voice trembled as she spoke, watching her betrothed's face contort. "That arrogant, pig-eyed prick!" She exclaimed, outraged by the entire situation. "Elaena, we're in this together. I want let this happen." Rodrik replied with a calm tone, one that had Cynthia surprised at his lack of fury, something she had expected from her brother. "I knew you'd help." Elaena beamed, before turning away from the other 3.

"But my father won't listen, I'm not going to be the bone they throw that howling dog. I'm not going to be some prize for him to rip open. We have to get rid of him." Elaena's eyes narrowed, her voice stern, and resembling Cynthia's easily tempered trates, once picked up from a certain second Forrester son. "It's time someone brought Gryff down." Rodrik replied quickly, his tone replicating Elaena's. "We were hoping you'd say that," Elaena replied, sparing a nod in her brother's direction briefly.

A short burst of a whistle that came from the second Glenmore brought forth 20 or so men, dressed in matching Glenmore attire, armed with bows like Arthur's. "You brought your men?" Cynthia exclaimed, looking around at the familiarly dressed soldiers. "I command father's elite guard. These men are trained archers, swordsmen...experts in both ranged and close combat. They're yours, if you'll help us take down Gryff." Arthur announced proudly, admiring his men. "The whole guard?" Cynthia asked, shocked at the proposal, and proud of the alliance they would have with the Glenmores. "Twenty men. My father still thinks they're aboard a ship bound for the Reach. What do you have to lose, Rodrik?" Elaena spoke, stepping closer to her love, sounding so sure of the plan her and her brother had concocted.

"My men are yours to command." Arthur announced, upon hearing Rodrik's agreement, gripping Rodrik's hand in a firm shake. "Thank you, Qu--Arthur," Rodrik smiled, correcting his mistake with a small chuckle. "Could you give us a moment?" Elaena asked, staring between the two silent members of the group. Arthur and Cynthia both nodded, making for Ironrath and leaving the two love birds to their own deeds. "It's been a long time, Cyn." Arthur stated, walking alongside the short girl as they headed home. "Indeed it has. How have you been?" She asked politely, turning to look at the brown-haired boy at her side. Despite being of the same age, there was no a substantial height difference between the pair, displaying Cynthia's lack of any height at all. "I've been well, and yourself? Coping without your lover boy around?" Arthur remarked, taunting Cynthia with a smirk. Arthur had been the only other person Cynthia told of her...affection towards a certain exiled Forrester. And not once did the Glenmore son miss an opportunity to tease the young Glover of her attachment, bringing it up at the most inconvenient of times on some occasions, or teasing her of such a love at others. "I've been fine, thank you Quiver. Though I miss Asher, I have found a way to manage without his company." Cynthia joked, pretending to fawn over her lost love. The pair laughed, walking side by side along the familiar dirt track.

"I personally never saw the attraction you had to him," Arthur exclaimed, once their laughter had died to a mere smile present on both parties' faces. "You wouldn't though would you," She humoured, nudging his side gently. "He was so aggressive, though, rough and violent. What is there to like in someone like that?" Arthur questioned, frowning at the recollection. "Perhaps that was it. Maybe I liked him because of his roguish nature, and bad attitude and violence." Cynthia sighed, turning her gaze directly to her company. It had been obvious that the two boys had never gotten along, Asher being the protective brother-figure that he was, he never liked Cynthia's male company outside the Forresters, present company included. And Arthur, like everyone else that knew Asher, was yet to understand how he had fallen so easily for the enemy, disgusted by Asher's actions with the Whitehill harlot. "Maybe you just have poor taste," Arthur announced with a sly smirk, his eyes only daring to flicker towards the easily tempted girl. "You jealous, Quiver?" She quipped, punching his arm. "You wish, Glover." He replied, the smirk not daring to slip from his aged features. Even in his maturity with looks, this Glenmore was obviously yet to grow up.