GM Mass RP | Fortis In Arduis.

The preparations hadn't taken long, for his grandsire had long beaten him to the punch. Yarrow had little to do beyond organizing the old stag's affairs. Yarrow's sire, however...Adalbert had left the young Lord a mess to deal with. The dark lord had no idea their house and glade was in so much disarray until Yarrow had taken over. So while the dark stag organized a memorial service for both lords, Yarrow re-established the Glade that had become his unexpectedly. Yarrow considered himself lucky that his grandsire, Gerald, had been so organized. Otherwise he was certain he would have lost his mind trying to get things put in order.

The invitations had been sent to all the royals in Glenmore, though whether or not any of them would attend was an entirely different story. Yarrow knew that they all had interacted with at least Lord Gerald in one way or another - after all, the old stag was often giving the King referrals for betrothals based on the familial lineages that he oversaw in relation to his role as Lord of Families. For being a glorified servant of the King, Gerald had been an important stag. Even if they did not know him, Yarrow expected at least some to show out of respect for the old stag. Yarrow doubted many would attend for his sire's sake. Adalbert had not garnered the affection Gerald had from most of Glenmore.

Despite knowing everything was in place, the dark lord paced in his glade. Only divine intervention could ruin the memorial service, but still Yarrow worried. It had to be perfect - anything less than such would be a disappointment. Yarrow believed his grandsire deserved the best of the best, and it would be a great shame if it was anything less than such. His butler, Samuel, nervously skittered up to the gloomy lord. "Please, my lord, you mustn't fret too much," the smaller stag murmured as he flounced around Yarrow, correcting the dark stag's appearance. The butler knew his lord must look impeccable, like always.

Yarrow stopped his pacing enough to let the butler fix what was out of place, before shooing Samuel away. "Come, Sam. It's time." His words were low and gruff, but they didn't hold the usual bite Yarrow had when he was unhappy. Regardless, the butler merely nodded and led the way for his lord. The others, should any guests have arrived, would be waiting for him.

The earth was still soft and chewed up where Yarrow had had Gerald and Adalbert buried. Yarrow knew there was no better place for his grandsire other than beside his beloved, Yana. Yarrow had his sire buried next to Gerald on the stag's other side. The plot was not far from their family grove, under a large willow tree. Yarrow had dug the holes himself in a macabre sense of mourning and closure, but he wouldn't admit such things as it was unbecoming of a lord. It had taken some time, but the work had helped ease the pain by the stags' sudden passing. Yarrow ducked underneath the tree's weeping branches, gently pushing the branches aside to avoid damaging the tree. He paused once under the dappled shade, closing his eyes as he just stood for a moment in silence. He could sense the trees around him, including the willow he stood under, which brought about a calm to ease the lord's frazzled nerves. Yarrow liked to think it was the soul of Gerald blessing him, but he knew better.

Yarrow turned to those who had gathered, standing tall and stoically before them. With a deep breath, the dark lord spoke. "Thank you all for coming. I know my grandsire, Lord Gerald, would have been happy to see all of you here - it would have meant a great deal to him to see so many faces. I'm sure you all know that Lord Gerald knew no stranger," he spoke, a slight chuckle rumbled from him. Gerald had been a pleasant stag to all, perhaps more so than Yarrow was. "I will not bore you with stories about him, as I am sure you all have been touched by his presence in one way or another. I hope I can be just as honorable as he was; I hope to serve you all as the new Lord of Families to the best of my abilities."

The dark stag paused from his short speech, his gaze sweeping across the faces that had gathered for the memorial, before falling upon the overturned dirt. His heart ached for this losses, but he knew he had to move on. "Please feel free to say a few words or say your goodbyes, should you desire." The stag moved aside as he spoke, out of the way for others who may have wanted some privacy to say their goodbyes to the deceased.