Ida enters the grove, apparently in anticipation of the upcoming knighting and such, nodding politely to those she passes while moving to find a seat.

Ida has joined the benches.

The Grove has been left bare of osentatious adornment, the simple banners of House Redrain hung from each towering stone with a single torch in front to illuminate it. Dusk is approaching slowly, a hush over this place with the winter months. No birds call and no fireflies dance, but there is a calm here found nowhere else. Standing at the altar is Freja in her Shaman trappings with a torch in hand; the monstrous albino bear headdress hiding her curls and topping off the rest of her glacial blues. A basin sits on top of the altar stone, smelling rich of herbs and dried Northern flowers.

Tarik has joined the benches.

Tarik walks into the ward and quietly sits in one of the benches.

The loud, raspy croaking of the Northern Ward's resident raven can be heard outside the Grove, echoing off, but does well enough to announce Morrighan's arrival. Who needs a herald blowing horns when you have a loudmouthed bird? Brahm flutters in on the breeze, wings flapping, gliding away to perch on a limb near the altar, and the redhead follows after, dressed in her leathers. Her helm is held within the crook of her arm while her free hand grips the hilt of her blade as she approaches, nodding politely to those she passes, smiling to those she's familiar with. A little wave is offered to Ida when she's spotted, followed by a cheeky grin in greeting.

Watching the inky winged herald pass, Ida turns and can't help but offer the following Morrighan a warm and wide smile in reply to Mor's. The smith, knighted herself not all that long ago, can't help but continue to smile. Straightening up a little in her seat, she gives the younger woman a quick wiggle of her fingers, too, before glancing from her to Freja at the altar.

Soot, a gray foxhound puppy arrives, following Petal.

Fergus is hanging around, leaning his large frame up against one of the nearby trees. Likely drinking out of a flask. Yeah. Grumpy. Check. Drinking. Check. Leaning against something solid. Check and check. But not like he wouldn't show up to something like this, if only to show personal approval. Such as it is.

Freja turns a smile slowly to the sound of the raven's croak, eyes lifting to watch its flight. It is only once Brahm settles that the Princess turns her eyes towards Morrighan, beckoning her forward with a welcoming wave. "Come! This has already been far too long in the making." She turns her words now to address those that are attending. "Today we annoint Morrighan, elevating her from Mistress to Dame. For years she has served our family. Not only dutifully, but honorably. She has risked her life when others may not have, gone where others would not have dared to face our enemies, and here she stands all the more loyal and stronger for it. A formidable..." a beat, "...fiery woman, we are blessed to have her in our ranks. Morrighan - before we begin, I will ask you to renew your oaths to us in the form of your Knighthood of Farhaven. When you first joined us, it was under sadder circumstances. You are not now who you were then - you are far more."

Petal arrives at the knighting ceremony while adorned in her common cloth clothing and toting her sewing basket. Her hound is close at her slender legs. She arrived just in time to hear Freja's words. A smile is given to the princess and the new knight.

It's when Freja beckons her forward that Morrighan steps up towards the altar, grinning broadly at the shaman as she draws near enough and glances off towards the small crowd gathered. There's a modest quality with her demeanor, from her posture to the way her head is bowed down in respect for those of the Redrain family she's able to note. That beat is met with asidelong look to Freja, and the corners of the redhead's mouth curves up a bit higher. Inhaling a breath, the servant, now knight, goes down to a knee, hand adjusting her sword as necessary as she crouches. "I owe more than I can begin tae list tae th'Redfain family. You have taken me in, put me under your wing, an' regarded me as one of your own. I might have lost my tribe, years ago, but I found a new one with all o' you. I swear, with everythin' tha' I am, I will give all tae protect Redrain. I will give my last breath tae th'last bit o' blood tae keep you all safe. Your enemies are my enemies, an' they will be shown nae mercy. I will be your shield an' sword, whenever I am needed. This I pledge until th'day I die."

The smile on Ida's expression remains, the lightly armored smith looking rather proud where she sits along the benches. The Redrain Princess' words do nothing to dim that look on the Valardin's face, of course, but there may be a flicker of somberness as well; so much having happened in the world these last couple of years. Maybe even still happening. Looking once again between Freja and Morrighan, she espies Fergus and gives the man a friendly grin. It's Morrighan's solemn words that draw Ida's attention back soon after, however.

"Ain't that just fucking adorable." Fergus grunts from his spot, watching over the whole proceedings with a passive expression. Truly, leave it to him to boil it all down into a single sentence without having to be so overly wordy about the entire thing. Still, at least he looks impressed. Or rather, as impressed as he looks. Maybe he frowns less than usual. Or maybe it's the small salute with his flask. Either way, likely a 'good job' kind of display for his part.

Throughout the new oath Freja has one of her rare smiles, the towering woman looking down at the kneeling other with admiration. The Oath renewed, she nods and motions for Morrighan to rise. "House Redrain accepts these oaths and your binding to us as our Knight of Farhaven - an extension of our Northern home now, we are bound. All duties you have to us, and for our duties to you, let the Spirits bear witness and the Gods too." Freja extends the torch she holds to Morrighan and looks pointedly to the basin.

When beckoned, Morrighan rises to her full height, leathers creaking slightly, standing now as Knight and Dame. She dips her head down respectfully to Freja, easing it into small nod before glancing off towards the basin. Her focus returns to the extended torch, and she loosens her grip on the hilt of her blade to take it. Not missing that pointed look, the redhead meanders off, torch in hand. When she draws near, she spies the objects in the basin, and with a broad grin, she dips the torch down, setting it all on fire.

Petal listens to the ceremony, having a gentle smile. She seems a bit shy and doesn't draw too much attention to herself.

Were Ida not already familiar with the Redrain Prince, married to Marian previously of House Valardin, the blunt remark might have drawn a look. But she is familiar and the smile of pride might alter a touch into something of a flicker of amusement. Yet again, the ceremony pulls her focus back to Freja and Morrighan, especially as the younger of the two takes the torch and moves to light the basin. The smith's eyes widen briefly when the it all turns to flame.

The flames are near instant, jumping several feet in the air for a flash before dying down into a steady roar contained to the basin on the altar. Freja closes her eyes then, her voice lowered and lips moving in incoherent syllables no others may recognize nor place. The rest of the crowd is forgotten to her as she sinks to her knees and gathers a small mound of snow, cupped between her hands. The fire is snuffed out as she adds it to the basin, the smoke billowing in a single cloud upwards and onwards into the stars starting to wink into existence for the evening.
     "What is hidden in snow, is revealed at thaw." Freja states her own personal mantra, heard so oft' in her Shamanistic rituals as she beckons Morrighan forward once more and draws the woads of House Redrain on her face, a rune of her own design on the Knight's forehead. With gaze distant, unfocused and eyes half-lidded, Freja says, "Morrighan, we annoint you a Knight of Farhaven. Spirits guide you and keep you ever in their favor."

Freja checked mana + occult at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

Fergus watches on with the same impassive gesture he's hand on his face all day. "Been a long fucking time since I saw someone knighted here." he utters, mostly to himself. But they do that whole fire thing, and he drinks to that. Once that's all said and done and it looks like the ceremony is thus concluded, he nods again. "Good job, Morri. Don't fuck it up." Which is what he usually says when someone gets a promotion. That's what he was always told, anyhow.

Standing before that large eruption of flame, Morrighan lifts her gaze skyward, following as it jumps several feet into the air, marveling at the magnificence of it. She dips her head down, peering back into the basin while the fire steadily roars, consuming the contents within for fuel, and the dame takes a couple steps backward, though remains close. Her eyes shift aside to look questioningly at Freja, watching the shamanic process, then to the small mound of snow that the princess gathers. Then, the flame is diminished, though she watches the smoke trail up into the sky for a moment, then redirects her attention to the ceremony at hand. She steps forward to receive the woads, drawn on her face - and Morrighan simply beams with pride. "Thank you, Freja. I will, as always, strive to make the House proud." However, there is a flit of her eyes to the side, squinting off at Fergus. As if she'd fuck it up.

Ida raises her hands to clap once the reverence of the ceremony appears to conclude, but as she seems to be the only one at this point, she doesn't actually bring her hands together. Instead, she repeats what Freja has said, her head dipping respectfully as she does so. "Spirits guide you and keep you ever in their favor, dear friend." Looking back up, her glance again shifts between Princess and newly Knighted, brows arching is something that may appear to be expectation.

Petal watches the ceremony and cheers for the new knight. "Ya, Dame Morrighan." She says in her heavy accent.

Petal is overheard praising Morrighan for: Yay, Dame Morrighan, well deserved.

"My brother is an ass. You'll do fine." Freja laughs brightly and steps back from the altar then, the ceremony itself having reached its conclusion.

Freja is overheard praising Morrighan for: Our newest Knight of Farhaven, may the Spirits keep you.

Fergus is overheard praising Morrighan for: Can't think of anyone else who deserves it more.

Ida is overheard praising Morrighan for: Hooray Dame Morrighan!

Tarik stands up and applauds Morrighan. "Congratulations, Dame Morrighan."

"Hey, I said she did a good fucking job." Fergus snorts. "What do you want me to do? Dance a fucking jig for her?" He might be back on his feet, but he's still healing over the recent tournament. Hence leaning against a tree. And he's a horrible dancer. Everyone knows that. "Though I start calling her dame, she's gonna think I'm calling her old."

Fergus is overheard praising Freja for: For being all shamna-y and presentable. Always liked her ceremonies.

Freja's words signalling the end of the Ceremony for certain leave Ida looking a little perplexed. "Wait...you aren't going to punch her, your highness," the Valardin knight and smith wonder. "His Grace, Prince Edain, punched me square in the jaw at the conclusion of the ceremony. Maybe...that's just a Valardin thing." That mused, she offers praise to both Morrighan and Freja, standing and clapping. "What a moving Ceremony. I'm so glad to have been able to witness it!"

"We're Northern - we're supposed to be odd." Freja remarks with a bright peal of laughter.

"Oh, aye, there ain't any denyin' tha'," Morrighan replies with an impish grin to Freja before making a cheeky face off at the noblewoman's grumpy sibling. She turns to those that have gathered and lowers her head into an appreciative nod. "Thank you all for comin' along this way an' bein' present. Means a lot," she says, smiling bright, though she cuts her gaze aside at Fergus. Pausing. "Tha' ain't a bad idea. Dance a jig, Ferg. I ain't mind if'n you call me Dame, if tha' makes me sound old than yer fuckin' ancient." There's a wary eyeballing given to Freja then, looking between her and Ida at the mentioning of jaw punching. "Ida, it's verra nice tae see you - been a long time, thank you for makin' it."