Harlan Coltsfoot Goldmere | M | Bound | Goldmere | Eldest Heir | Mentions: Gathered Heirs in the dining hall [indir.] Hyzenthlay, Eden, Ivory Goldmere [Dir.]

He was late. He was always late. It didn’t matter how important the event, who was in attendance or how far from the place he was, Harlan Goldmere was always late. This time, he had no excuse, he had simply been busy the night before and had forgotten he was supposed to meet his siblings before the gathering. Instead, the head of the Goldmere family had spent his night drinking with strangers in a tavern and causing a ruckus in the streets. Luckily his quick feet let him spring away from the scene when the guards had shown up to address the noise complaints. Though it wasn’t the noise complaints Harlan was concerned with them calling into question lately.

Harlan had collapsed in his rented room, tangled in the thread bare sheets and awoke when the sunlight had just started to peek over the horizon. It was only then, as he stared at the wooden beams on the ceiling that he remembered where he was supposed to be. He sat up too quickly and the throbbing intensified and he winced, his lip curling in pain.

Despite his raging headache, he had thrown his clothing back on, the same thing he had worn the night before. It was a little crumpled and marred with small stains from the night before, but the cream linen dress shirt fit him like a glove. Paired with deep brown pants and black leather boots, he scurried off into the dawn light, praying that Hyzenthlay had fetched his belongings to be carted off to the Conclave Inn in advance. On second thought, she absolutely did, she was like that.

–

Once he had arrived, Harlan shouldered his way through the double doors, earning a few concerned looks from the help before they quickly returned to what they were doing upon realising who he was. He graced them with a crooked grin, one that made his eyes squint with the size of it. Slowing his hurried pace down to a swagger, moving to adjust the open front of his shirt and dust off any dirt that had found its way onto the fabric.

He could hear the chatter down the hall, accompanied with the fresh scent of food, it made his stomach groan in realisation that he had not eaten since this time the day prior. A meal he perhaps should have skipped too, but it had smelt incredibly good when that young lady had served it to him, how could he have said no?

The promise of breakfast was enough to make him all but fall through the doors to the dining hall, he didn’t slip, but it did look rather clumsy as he righted his spine and looked out across the room. His grin was back in place, carefree and completely uncaring about the way he looked before the other houses. On the other hand, he could see his sister from across the room and her eyes were like thunder. Her hard stare was boring into his chest as he prowled further into the room.

“I do apologise for my lack of punctuality, but fear not!” He flicked a wrist out towards his family. “The full and complete Goldmere litter is here now.” It earned him an exasperated sigh and a shake of Hyzenthlay’s head as she turned back to her meal.

Pleased with himself, he made his way towards his family, his smile still bright but it carried a softness to it now as he approached. His hair was as volumous as usual but it stuck up at odd angles due to the lack of proper grooming he had done this morning, the long tails of his hair were slightly tangled as they flowed down over his shoulders.

“Eden! Ivory! My loves, how good it is to see you.” Harlan proclaimed as he slid between the two younger Goldmere siblings and draped an arm over each of them, pulling them into a squeeze of a hug before leaning back up and slipping into a seat of his own.

“I hope that you all slept well last night, those rooms can be rather drafty sometimes. I remember when Haze and I were youngsters and shivered the whole first night up there!” Harlan shook his head with a gentle laugh, glancing towards his twin who was refusing to look at him, not acknowledging his arrival at all.

“Aw, come on Haze.” He cooed, leaning back into his chair languidly, his arms resting on the back of the chair. He crossed one leg over the other, ankle on his knee, his head tipped down so that a portion of his hair swinging in front of his eyes that he blew out of the way. “You knew I’d come eventually-” A sharp clang interrupted him, earning a moment of surprise from Harlan as he jolted ever so slightly more upright. Looking minutely guilty as Hyzenthlay turned her head towards him in a quick jerking movement. She had all but slammed her cutlery down on the table. The noise was abrupt and cut through the low murmuring chatter and sounds of the dining hall, slicing through loudly.

“You should have been here last night.” Was all she said, her lovely face contorted with frustration as she looked at her brother. It made his heart twinge, made his eyes wince and he looked away like a dog being scolded. His legs slowly slid down from their crossed position and he flattened his lips into a thin line, nodding his head.

“I should have been, yes.” Harlan offered, but no apology came. Haze looked at him a moment longer before returning to her meal, ignoring any looks and moment of silence that had come about from her minor outburst.

Harlan dared to look towards his two younger siblings, for a second he thought about apologising, but instead he offered an impish sheepish smile and a slight shrug of his shoulders. Then a rather brave servant approached to take his order and he almost slipped and requested something that would’ve drawn eyes, catching himself he corrected quickly.

“A portion of b-, oatmeal would be perfect, my dear.”

It was good that Daria had instilled a little caution in Mara. Aurelian didn't have the heart to do it himself, and with how high tensions seemed to have risen in recent years, a little wariness could go a long way. But he also feared that if her anxieties were too obvious to the other heirs, they might pounce on that weakness even faster than they would otherwise. At the very least he could direct her towards some of the more trustworthy heirs present, and he was sure that between Daria and himself, the youngest Whitethorn heir would never be fully alone or unsupervised.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the doors were flung open and none other than Harlan Goldmere came strutting in. Late. As always. Aurelian had almost managed to find it within himself to hope that Harlan had simply forgotten about the Gathering entirely, sparing them all his conversation. But the world is a cruel place, and he was sure to face many... riveting conversations over the next few days.

Turning his head slowly towards Mara, he adopted a low but dramatic tone. "Speaking of socialising, don't talk to Harlan. He's not dangerous or anything like that, but if you talk to him, he'll come find me to tell me about it." He gave an exaggerated shudder of horror; he was sure that Daria, at least, was already well aware of his... personal disagreements with the eldest Goldmere heir. He'd always managed to remain polite and calm in the face of Harlan's pestering, but that didn't mean he wanted extra chances to test out the limits of his patience when tensions were already running so high.

Though, by the sound of clattering silverware behind him, it sounded like the eldest Goldmere had found the end of someone else's patience already. Aurelian twisted his head round to give Hyzenthlay a sympathetic and long-suffering look, before quickly turning back around to make sure he didn't accidentally make eye contact with her twin. He truly had no idea how she was still sane, experiencing that on a regular basis.

He found his fingers once again tracing the blunted tips of the mantle's antlers as he assessed the situation that was this Gathering. The families were staying far more insular than usual, even for this early in the event, and especially for a Gathering with multiple new faces. He could only hope that between all the heirs attempting their Bindings for the first time, and all those returning, the monotony of ritual after ritual would wear down some of those walls. And perhaps the younger heirs, and their lack of the ingrained suspicion that came with being present at too many events, could do some work to facilitate that. A Gathering this tense was hardly an ideal first time, and he found himself wanting to reassure Mara that it wasn't always like this. But perhaps drawing more attention to the abnormal atmosphere here would only bring more anxiety. He realised his brows had started to inch towards a frown as he thought, and quickly readjusted them to a more pleasant expression, moving his hands away from the skin.

Brynhildr | 26 | Skin-bound | Cheiftess Bramblefen | Mention: Erie, Reverie (ind) Mara, Daria, Aurelian (Dir)

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻·𖥸·༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Bryn had been awoken well within adequate time for the morning breakfast, but as usual had been sidelined by various duties needing attendance by the Cheiftess of the Bramblefen Clan. She had already told herself that for the next few days - til she and Erie returned home - she'd remain focused on diplomatics, focusing in on the other families and their heirs... But she couldn't help being distracted by matters much closer to home: her people still needed her in her absence, no matter who was left in charge. And then there was watching over her sister, her highest priority.

She had wanted to stay close to Erie as much as she could over the next few days, and particularly towords the Gathering given her sister's resentment over it all. Bryn was honestly surprised she came, in the end, but would've openly admitted it to anyone that she would be pleased to have her closest ally and friend by her side. Though it would go unspoken, she was especially thankful Erie would be around while she dealt with the others sharing the Conclave's inn. There was always a slight discomfort in bumping into other heirs in the corridors and the shared spaces, and Bryn found even glancing in her sister's direction suppressed her unease. Not to mention the thought of having eachother to watch their respective backs. Having someone else to look out for and worry after prevented her entirely from fussing about her own flaws or missteps. Fortunately for Bryn, or unfortunately from some perspectives, Erie could certainly pose enough trouble to keep her happily occupied.

Her sister had always been a tad hot-headed and Bryn didn't mind that at all, but prior to her grief it had always seemed tinged with good nature. Nowadays she understandably seemed unwilling to tolerate many besides Bryn herself, especially not in the small talk they should be attempting to engage in. Bryn had been trying for years now to soften the other heirs with her friendly words, and while some had begun to respond, others seemed as cold and as distant as ever. Erie, wrapped as ever in her grieving, could unintentionally cause some friction between the heirs making Bryn's attempts largely futile. The warrior was already feeling ill at ease at the thought of leaving her unattended, so rushed to finish her work before hurrying down to join the rest of them at the breakfast table. Unfortunately quite late.

Erie's dark figure of course caught her eye first. She couldn't see her face, but there seemed to be a tension to her form, not least because of a young women talking to her. Bryn recognised the youngest Nightcoil heir as she slipped into the seat besides her and, narrowing her eyes slightly, took a step towards them before pausing. She exhailed, turning away. While she would never stop fussing over her little sister, she had made a point to herself to stop hovering over her like a hornet. The Nightcoil girl was posing no threat, and it was probably good to converse with those outside of their circle, especially around events like these. If she recalled correctly, the girl - Reverie? - had been one Bryn had been acquaintances with prior to everything. She shifted to the side so as in be in the corner of Erie's eyeline, easily recognised in her usual garments, then settled in an empty seat to dig into her meal. Erie had the autonomy to call on her if she needed.

She finished her plate in seconds and wiped her face clean before scanning the rest of the room. Besides those two, everyone seemed fairly content in their little family bubbles. Socialising was being kept to a minimum even more so than usual, with the Goldmeres in a less-than-neat set, all squished around one edge of the table; the Whitethorns sat opposite, looking a little tense themselves. Particularly Aurelian, the oldest Whitethorn sibling, she noticed.

Without a hint of hesitation, Bryn strode over to the eldest heir, grinning. "Aurelian! Greetings. How are things? I see you have a new sibling with you this year." Perhaps her introduction was a little too brash, even for her, with her interrupting their conversation. But the women felt inclined to break the ice forming somehow, lest the next few days cause too much of a frost between all of the families.

Clarissa Marayena Ardor Whitethorn | 19 | Not bound | Youngest Whitethorn heiress | Mentions: Reverie & Eirdis (ind), Daria (dir), Auri (dir), Harlan & Goldmeres (dir), Bryn (dir), open!

Mara's spirits had taken a dip at Daria's words and did not rise much after Auri's, though she appreciated his trying. Yes, it was quite clear that no one around here liked each other very much; families did not intermingle, save for two women, one of whom looked annoyed by the other's attention.

But she was distracted from her worries when the double doors of the dining room opened with a bang; a man tumbled in, barely avoiding falling, with small stains marring his otherwise-quality cream shirt. Mara's nose wrinkled delicately at this—she was quite certain the heirs were meant to make a good impression. His eyes locked on a table, the occupants of which looked in turn embarrassed and frustrated, and he began toward them.

Mara turned back to her siblings—what did they make of this spectacle? Daria's face was impassive as always, but Auri leaned in, warning her not to talk to the man—Harlan, Auri called him. A Goldmere, then, so the other three people he was sitting with must be his siblings.

Mara raised her eyebrows at Auri's shudder. Clearly, her brother and Harlan were not on the best of terms. Beside her, Daria laughed, clearly no stranger to Auri's Harlan-related grievances. "Is-" Is he always like this, she was about to say, but a clattering cut her off. Mara peeked around Auri's frame—one of the Goldmere siblings had dropped her cutlery ferociously on the table.

Now full, the tension in the room was palpable. It made Mara uneasy. Clearly, even siblings did not get along with each other—that left no hope for anyone else, truly. Mara understood why Daria had warned her off, and felt a rush of empathy for her long-suffering sister's having to put up with, and, indeed, mediate these sorts of spats for years on end. She attempted to move the conversation into more cheerful territory. "So," she said, resting her elbows on the table. "The Binding, huh? Should I be worried?"

Daria turned, as if snapping out of a trance, and smiled. "Not at all. We-" she gestured to the three of them "-don't generally have a difficult time with Bindings. You know I was Bound on my first try, and Auri on his second."

Mara nodded, about to follow up with another question, when a voice cut through their conversation. She looked up. Oh, this woman, she knew: Chieftess Brynhildr of the Bramblefen Clan. Mara had met her a few times over the years, mostly in her youth, since the Whitethorn and Bramblefen families were somewhat closer than most. Mara had always looked up to Brynhildr; the woman had been bold, even in childhood, but always kind to her.

Brynhildr greeted Auri cheerfully. Mara tamped down the urge to start a conversation—the woman had spoken to Auri first, so they probably had some acquaintanceship greater than Mara and Brynhildr's. And, with Daria's words, she was reluctant to speak to any of the heirs without a debrief from her siblings (although she had received a small one last night while they were travelling, her siblings had not gone into detail on any specific heir). Instead, she shifted her gaze to Auri, watching to see how he would respond.

Ambrose Phivyre | 23 | M | Nightcoil Servant | Mentions: Harlan, Hyzenthlay, Ivory, Eden [Indir.] Reverie, Eirdis [Dir.]

His quiet observation of the dining hall was rudely interrupted by the jarring noise of one particular prancing heir coming tumbling through the doors. His teeth bared for the world to see as he proclaimed his arrival as though it held more importance than those already gathered. It did make his eye twitch from the audacity being displayed, but Ambrose remained planted to his post. Continuing to watch as Harlan Goldmere sauntered across the hall towards his family, who looked far from pleased with his arrival, particularly his twin.

Determined to not appear as though he were a nosey servant, Ambrose turned his head away from the family dramatics, but kept his ear trained on them. He didn’t know how his family dealt with his antics.

It was the usual coming from the head of the Goldmere line, which normally was tolerated, but for some reason that normality was altered when Hyzenthlay struck her cutlery down onto the wooden table. It turned heads in the hall and earned a heartbeat of silence. Even Ambrose found himself craning his neck in their direction. He was in the middle of his gawking when he heard a familiar voice call out. It didn’t speak his name, but he knew that Reverie had meant to summon him.

Ambrose stepped forwards, his gloved hands clasped neatly behind his back, hinging at the hips to be closer to the seated woman’s height. He offered a soft smile at her request, letting his eyes close momentarily.

“Of course, Lady Reverie. As you wish.” He hummed, opening his eyes to offer a short glance towards the woman his master was seated with, one Ms Eirdis Bramblefen. She looked rather sullen, but not that it was unexpected considering her recent circumstances.

“May I offer your company a beverage as well?” Ambrose was still bent down in respect as he proposed his question, he was asking Reverie but looking solely at the Bramblefen woman.