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The elder Rowntree son who was born into the relative privilege of a ruling settlement family. His position may have made him lazy in defending it, as Edmund maintains a blithe non-concern for politicking, but otherwise maintains control through a certain amount of casual brutality to help keep the settlement strong. He is more soldier than politician, but arguably also, more farmer than soldier, seeing as his primary occupational vocation is keeping up the Shire herd of once-feral horses and growing it over the last two decades and change. These beasts are an excellent resource for long distance travel, hard labour, and occasionally, food, in famine-like situations. They are also good for trade across settlements and with merchants, enough that Edmund maintains wealth and status independent of the Rowntrees.
Info
Full Name: Edmund Rowntree
Age: 40
Hair: Reddish brown
Eyes: Blue
Status: Alive
Occupation: Horse trainer
Origin: Dornie, Scotland
Allegiance: Clan Rowntree
First Seen:
Last Seen:
Description: Lean and 6', Edmund maintains his health as he encroaches on forty, age showing mainly in deeper lines set into his face, rougher hands, and the wiry silver beginning to show in his hair, rather than in strength and agility. He does not smile much, which is probably good, as when he does, it resembles the canine creatures that spook his horses at night, and his teeth have suffered from a tobacco habit. Hair dark and brown but sometimes grows in redder, and his eyes are blue for the most part, greener when the light allows it.
Family:
- Aislinn Rowntree - wife
- Ariel Rowntree - son
- Marcus Rowntree -father
- Helen Rowntree - mother
- Goneril Ross - sister
- Duncan Rowntree - half-brother
- Celia Rowntree - niece
- Peter Rowntree - nephew
- Constance Rowntree - niece
- Cordelia Ross - niece
Portrayed by: Michael Fassbender
History
There are no kings, in this world. No princes and no princesses. Royalty has no currency. Nobles are peasants, and peasants earn their power. And power is something that the Rowntree clan had even before Helen produced her first son within the stone walls of the settlement castle, forty years ago. Wealth in the form of a munitions factory, defensible protection against the wildness of the world, and the influence that comes with the reliance of hundreds of people, was something that Edmund was expected to help defend and maintain throughout his life.
He was a moody child, quiet, and one who may have been content with learning his letters and reading had his father not taken him by the hand and showed him more practical skills to develop. He was put to work on farms, in workstores, in the kitchen of the inn, even in the munitions factory when he was old enough to see over the top of the conveyor belts. But most importantly, Edmund got to work in the stables of a sheep farmer, who had only three horses to his name, but three horses enough for Edmund to find his place in the world. From the calm, docile creatures, bowed with age and hard work, he found the solace he might have found in scholarly works.
Into adolescence, he grew into a young man much different to the boy he had been. The same quietness, the same mood, but mood had sharpened into something that could spark and burn into dangerous temper, made manifest in family bickering and a fair amount of viciousness when he sparred with the other boys. The only times he ever felt calm and in control of his temper was when he was forced to stifle it when caring for the horses at the sheep farm, as they seemed to sense when his mind and heart was elsewhere.
By the time he came of age, he had scraped together his teenage earnings and, with further financial help from his father, acquired himself a small herd of Shire horses from a smaller settlement farther north, who could no longer afford to keep them — especially not when offered iron and munitions. The dangerous journey saw one frail mare lost, but most made it back healthy, and Edmund settled his herd on the lands of the castle, occupying himself with raising them, and growing the herd through breeding as well as arranging hunting parties to capture the wilder horses found in the mountains whose ancestors had long ago escaped their keepers.
Twenty years would see a successful herd of horses, giving Edmund wealth independent of his heritage.
But in the background to his individual pursuits, there was political maneuvering and powerplays between clans, which Edmund, at best, kept track of. He was never a part of any of the thinking, finding such roles uncomfortable beyond perhaps standing tall and glowering at his father's side when required, and instead maintained a simplistic, unwavering loyalty to his own family. This isn't to say that he did and still doesn't know what's going on — perhaps it's precisely because he does, is why he remains aloof to it.
A few years ago, he acquired a wife.
His younger brother had teased him, here and there, about his half-baked, broken-down relationships with women of all kinds, and that the best he could raise for the Rowntree clan would be a few prostitutes and their bastards. When Duncan brought Aislinn to Eilean Donan, it wasn't quite along the same lines — and to this day, Edmund isn't entirely sure what he was supposed to have made of the gesture. Gloating, or genuine respect. A misguided present, perhaps, because giving someone a person is a bit like giving someone a pet they didn't intend to have, especially seeing as this one had spawn of its own — a crippled son.
But she had long hair and long limbs, with an inner warmth that seemed like such a mellow, sedate thing in comparison to his own fire-temper. And she liked his horses, and they liked her.
Edmund has had his adventures. Defending his herd from wayward dragons and going out to slay the ones that come back on repeat, through to raids against his own kind when the settlement demanded it, because it needed to make a statement or collect the resources, through to adolescent experimental hunting exercises on the lochs that earned him a kelpie pelt to wear during the wet weathers. None of them quite like fatherhood, which is what happened, and this time, Edmund knew about it — Aislinn got with child, and when she had it, it took a lot longer than a mare, and Edmund wasn't welcomed into the room. At all.
Considering Ariel's upbringing forces him to reflect on his own, wondering how he went from bookish loner to farmer-soldier. Honed into a thing best suited for the settlement, raw metal beaten into bullets, machine parts, a sword. He suspects it's the nature of the world, and it is his task to shape it before it shapes his son.
Personality
Loyal to his family and loyal to the integrity of the settlement, Edmund is not a very self-serving man despite the fact his moral compass is a skewed one. He appreciates the benefits of his position in life with an assumption of deserving it, because he does put in long days of work, and doesn't have much in the way of pity for those less fortunate than he is, unconsciously attributing it to laziness and ill-fortune. He is good at going after and conquering the things he desires, with enough of a genuine work ethic to back it if no one else will.
That said, he lacks some of the leadership initiative and ambition of others in his family, and probably would have done better as a second son rather than heir. A better general than commander, capable of taking orders and hesitant to deal them. His weakness lies in having no desire to be responsible over the lives and decisions of anyone outside his horses.
One thing that shakes his confidence in this is awareness that he has a temper, one that is easily triggered and shunts aside rational, peaceful action in favour of kneejerk instinct that is, occasionally, violent. It is a bit like drinking too much — there is a certain point when control is no longer yours. But it acts as a strength as well. It can convert a quiet hard worker into a ruthless soldier when required, and was once used as an excuse to hone combative skills as a means of venting and release (it didn't really work). The things that do diffuse him include tending to his animals and his wife.
Age has leveled this out, mediated it so that it can be called upon when appropriate instead of flashing to the forefront at anything that opposes him, but not completely, and it is still a trait of which he is known for. He is beginning to think a little more on the future and his position in Dornie, perhaps becoming more aware and active in local politics and broader decisions, and may start affecting the actions he takes.
