| Awake or Not |
| Summary: | Lyanna pays Stonebridge an unexpected visit after hearing about her aunt's riding accident. |
| Date: | 03/01/2013 |
| Related Logs: | None directly |
| Players: |
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| Gardens, Tordane Tower |
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| The rose garden of House Tordane is about three hundred square feet and hemmed in by walls about eye level to keep out the attention of wildlife. Bees hum about the area and around the stone archway which has seen the flowers grow up over and nearly encase in solid vine. The scent is sweet, mixing with the air coming off the water to produce an atmosphere some might find extremely calming. Stone benches have been chiseled out and placed along the path for visitors to relax on. |
| January 3rd, 290 |
Perrin takes the offered drink and takes a sip as he listens to the talk between Aunt and niece. "Thank you Lady Anathema, it's very good." He can't help but smile a little as he does. He turns first to Anathema and then Jocelyn "About all I know of plants is that they grow while some are good other's get in the way. What do we have growing here?" Asking as he moves a bit closer to where the herbs are planted, careful not to step on any of them. As the talk turns to the roses Perrin cringes a bit "I have to admit that I shot one of the larger rose flowers. But it was in defense of a certain lady that the offending rose was not being particularly nice to." He gives one of those had to do it shrugs.
He grins as he listens to Jocelyn speak of the puppies "Well My Lady, perhaps you should show me these most adorable things." He says to Jocelyn as Anathema is passing out chilled lemonade. They stand next to a patch of herbs and with a towel down, a few gardening tools, a lady's dirty gloves and just the smidgen of dirt on Jocelyn's forehead it would appear that she is the one that has been tending to them.
The three nobles have gathered around a bed of soft, fertile ground that Lady Jocelyn has been tending to based on the throw of cloth on the ground and the slight dirt stains on the girl's gown. Anathema has just brought out a tray of lemonade and four glasses to be filled, despite the fact there are only three present.
"They will grow into fine hunting hounds," Anathema says confidently as she begins to fill her own glass. "Perhaps that is what we will do soon, now that the Summer has settled in. Kingsgrove hosted a hunt, surely we could do the same." The woods-witch looks toward her niece, offering a quirk of a humbled smile. "I am use to dealing with the cold, hard ground of the North where only the wildest, strongest of things grow. Though I am still encouraging Ser Tyroan to let me plant some of the Northern wild roses that grow in the dirt of the Mountains." She gently settles into the bench flanking the stone table, sipping at her lemonade as she settles. "I prefer useful plants, though there is a certain beauty to useless flowers."
Entering the gardens from the Stone Walk is a small group, led by the slender figure of a noblewoman clad in the distinctive grey and blue of House Frey - yet she is neither the Ambassador to Stonebridge nor the ward of said House, residing here at the moment. No, tis a 'foreign' Frey, Lyanna, who has just arrived from Highfield on a hurried horse ride, as her slightly disarranged dark brown hair, with an escaped strand here and there suggests. In the lady's company are two Frey guards, a septa and a maid.
Lyanna approaches the group in the gardens, her cheeks glowing from slight agitation. Her gaze jumps from one to the other until it finally comes to settle upon Anathema, the steward's wife sitting at the stone table, whom she remembers having seen at the last wedding at Heronhurst. "Lady… Anathema. I hope I do not disturb?" She stands there for a short moment, catching her breath, but her deep blue eyes while attempting a casual friendly impression are clouded with worry.
Unaware of the smudge of dirt on her forehead, Jocelyn carried on with the conversation as normal. "Some Pennyroyal, some tansy." glancing down at the herbs below her, she points them out to Perrin as she says the name. "Nothing very dangerous." she laughs softly, "I do not think that men are supposed to know all about plants. What would we women have to be good at?" her tone teases him, "Puppies?" her eyes alight with humor she turns them away from Perrin and toward her Aunt. "He will not allow you to plant them? How come? I should love to see what the wild roses of the North look like. I dont think I've ever seen them."
Then comes the arrival of the Frey and Jocelyn's attention again shifts. Lowering into a curtsey she offers a "Good Day, My Lady."
"No, it is more than it would require me to head North to collect a seedling, and your Uncle would be lost without me." With a sweeping of her midnight blue skirts, the Steward's wife is on her feet to greet the Frey. She dips into a gentle curtsey that possesses all the grace of a proper woman — Witch or not. She clasps her hands lightly before her, and she offers a gentle, welcoming smile. "Lady Lyanna… a little bird had told me you were visiting the Stonebridge, but I assumed you were here to see Lady Firth or Lady Aralima." She gestures politely, though there is a slight pause as the ever-attentive Nayland wife notices the clouds of worry, the flush, the need for a calming breath. "Please, have a seat, My Lady. Let me pour you a glass of lemonade." Ha, thus putting to use that fourth glass!
Perrin sips his drink as he listens to Anathema. "A hunt," is his first words as he pauses, thinking a moment "yes, it's getting about time for another." Then he asks "You mentioned that you were from the North the other night as well. Where in the north, Lady Arathema, did you call home? I really haven't been much further than the Twins myself." He seems curious but not the least taken that he hasn't been further that.
Letting Jocelyn distract him for a moment he studies each plant as she points them out and names them. Then with a laugh "It's good then, that men are not supposed to know about plants for I know nothing, other than what berries are good to eat and what are not."
When another Lady arrives he turns, taking her in and can't help but noticing the agitation nor the worry that invades her eyes and features. He bows his head and says softly "My Lady," but says nothing more for the time as it seems that the direction of the conversation is perhaps directed mostly to Anathema and also Jocelyn.
"Indeed, I am here to visit my aunt Firth." Lyanna replies, still too distracted as to take deeper notice of the current conversation's topic - other than some plants and saplings are being discussed. "I have heard she has had an accident." And accepting Lady Anathema's invitation, she sits down on the bench for a moment, nodding gratefully as she is offered some refreshment.
Lyanna's deep blue eyes wander to the other people present then, and, remembering the demands of courtesy, she inclines her head to both of them. "Lord… Perrin Haigh, if I'm not mistaken?" she greets after a short moment of hesitation, then looking at Jocelyn for a longer moment she guesses: "Lady… Jocelyn Nayland?" A sudden respectful flicker appears in her gaze as she studies the lady for a moment. "I have met you at My aunt Bryliesa's wedding, I suppose? To think, that was already a month ago…" The Frey's voice trails off.
"Oh, I see. Well, I can certainly understand him not wanting you to go all the way, Aunt. And with the recent worries of the road conditions. I think I should be worried if you were to go as well." she smiles at Perrin, "you see, I have no idea about which berries are not good to eat. Perhaps you'll teach me that, My Lord?"
"You would be correct, My Lady Frey. It is good to see you again. I hope that you have faired well since the last we had the oppertunity to speak?" she glances back Perrin and then to the Frey, "Indeed, your memory is very well. This is Ser Perrin Haigh, he is currently a guest here at Stonebridge. We have been lucky enough to have some guests here at Stonebridge of recent, its a wonderful thing, I think. Lady Nedra is here as well. Are you at all familiar with the lady?"
The fourth glass of lemonade was poured, and Anathema gently sets it before the young Frey woman. "Everything is alright, my Lady. She has been moved to a far more comfortable guest suite, and there a Maester is attending to her. She took a frightful fall, and knocked her head. There was a small gash, but it was quickly cottled." She provides Lyanna a comforting, somewhat motherly smile. "She sleeps while her body heals, though I imagine she will be awake in a few hours." The Steward's wife tilts her head. "I will have another guest suite prepared so that you may rest here, and be there when she wakes." And she gestures for one of the guards standing in the garden.
"You are correct, My Lady," Perrin answers and then lets Jocelyn do the actual introductions. He looks between the ladies "A fall? I had not heard of such. Who was it that was hurt?" But to Jocelyn he nods "I would be very happy to show you. I at least know the berries around Broadmoor. The wild ones that is. I am guessing they are not so different than the one's here." As Anathema explains the details of the injury he listens but says nothing on the matter.
"I… am well, thank you." Lyanna replies to Jocelyn's inquiry, frowning slightly as she adds: "Lady Nedra? If I have met her, then only in passing…" The light hint of a glare in her eyes suggests she is aware that Lady Nedra is of House Mallister, although she does not voice it openly.
Turning to Anathema, the Frey lady nods. "I would be most grateful. And I would like to see my aunt, as soon as possible. A fall from a horse - with an injury to the head as consequence… I am very worried indeed." Lyanna's hands hold each other in a firm grasp, as she lets out a sigh. As she glances about her gaze barely lingers on the Haigh, although his tactful silence is indeed noted.
Anathema glances to Perrin, and she offers him a bit of a smile. "I'm sorry about that, my Lord… but I was born at the Flint's Finger, but spent much of my life before my marriage to Ser Tyroan in the Mountains with the First Flints. My mother is one of their kin, and she saw to it that I was raised with them." A point of contention, perhaps. She returns her attention toward Lyanna, and she bows her head gently. "Of course, My Lady. If you wish to see her now, I can have a guard escort you to her room, though I'm not sure if the Lady has awoken yet."
Nodding "Oh, I see. I hadn't realized that Lady Anathema," Perrin says in response to where she was born and lived."Well it seems you Ladies have much to discuss," Perrin says as he sets the lemonade down on the tray from which it came. "I shall step out and see to my horse and let you all talk in private." He bows his head to Anathema and then to Lyanna "I hope all is well with the one injured." With that Perrin makes his way from the gardens and out to the stone walkway.
The mention of Flints makes Lyanna's gaze cloud even more. Biting her lip, she looks at Anathema again, as the lady explains her origins to Perrin. The Frey Ambassador's gaze returns to the hands before her in concerned silence - alas, she has neither the time nor the strength at the moment to address the subject of that encampment of Anathema's kinsmen to the north of Highfield, that is currently troubled with a horrible plague. Emptying the glass of lemonade she rises, smoothening her skirts with nervously shaking hands. To the departing Haigh she offers a nod and a curtsey before she turns to the Nayland lady again. "If you do not mind, I would be most grateful. Awake or not, I need to see her, Lady Anathema."
"I will have a guard show you, and food and wine sent up to Lady Firth's rooms," Anathema says without hesitation. She stands slowly from her seat, gesturing with a flourish of her hand for another guard. "Please see Lady Lyanna Frey to Lady Firth's room, please… and tell the kitchen to prepare two plates of dinner and have them brought up with a pitcher of wine and two glasses." Once the guard nods in understanding, Ana looks back toward Lyanna. "I will come and see in on you both tomorrow." She offers a smooth smile that lightly touches her dark eyes. "You are welcome to stay as our guest for as long as you like, my Lady."
Lyanna makes a deep curtsey with as much of a grateful smile she can muster for the Nayland. "I am most thankful for your kindness and your hospitality, Lady Anathema. And I am looking forward to speak with you on the morrow." And with these words she turns and follows the Nayland guard that leads the way, her small retinue in tow.
| Guest Suite 2, Tordane Tower |
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| A modest room but with a large high bed that is set with four posts in rich mahogany. A blue rectangular rug is angled in the center of the room. A chest for storing the visitor's goods is at the foot of the bed and a grey blue cover settles over the bed. A hearth to the right of the windows which rests between it and the bed is done over with a iron screen meant to be removed when in use. A pair of chairs rest near the window and about a small circular table set with a candle. On the same wall as the door rests a low chest of drawers, a basin for water and a few wooden mugs rest there for use. |
| January 3rd, 290 |
The hours have passed and the room is dark and quiet. There is a single candle burning away from the large four post bed that contains Firth. The windows have been opened and fresh air has been allowed into the room. Firth's face is relaxed and she appears younger. Her long auburn hair has been washed and braided into a night braid. Sitting by the candle is an older woman who appears to be with the Nayland household and she looks bored. Her greying hair has been pinned up underneath what can only be described as a wimple. She is looking out the window at the moment watching the sun setting.
Footsteps in the hallway announce the arrival of a larger group of people - Although when the door is opened, only a Frey guard and a young noblewoman enter, with the rest of the retinue retiring to whatever chamber is being prepared for their stay. Lyanna steps into the room, a bit hesitantly perhaps, as she is not sure what sight awaits her here. The young Frey lady's attire might seem a bit ruffled, although her dress and blue cloak seem tidy enough - some loose strands of hair that have escaped her dark brown braid and some drops of sweat on her forehead tell a tale of a hard ride to Stonebridge. Nodding to the old woman, Lyanna sits down on a chair beside her, the deep blue eyes wandering over to the bed as they try to glimpse any details of Firth's face and overall state. "Is she still asleep?" she inquires in a low voice, careful not to wake her aunt, should it be the case.
"That she is." The woman says in a normal voice. She rises from where she was seated and she offers the woman a curtsy. "I do not think the guard marching through here or Lord Nayland shouting would wake her. Can I get you some tea or perhaps some hot water so you can wash up?" The woman ask her. "The Maester has attended her."
Lyanna shakes her head, turning to the woman with a smile. "There's no need. Lady Anathema has already ordered two plates and some wine to be brought up to us…." The guard assumes a position by the wall. And soon the Frey lady's attention returns to her aunt, as she carefully listens to her regular breathing.
"The Maesters say time will tell. She hit the side of her head on rock when she fell. From the look of her she went through a battle before. Scared up, I now know why she walks with that cane." The woman gossips a bit. "When it arrives I will make sure you have it. I have some tea, if you would interested in it while you wait." The woman just seems hungry for life in this room and Lyanna brings it with her into this room along with her guard. "Her poor guard is beside himself. Sent him out of here to go and rest up and I have a feeling he will be drinking himself into a stupor."
Listening to the woman's words in silence, the Frey lady seems to ponder on her offer for a bit before she finally nods. "A little tea would be nice, thank you." Then, as her gaze returns to Firth who lies unconscious in her bed, Lyanna inquires with a worried frown: "Has she been like this, since she has arrived? And that guard you speak of… Has he spoken of the circumstances of this… mishap?"
"Her guard said she was jumping when the horse spooked. He said she hit the ground and that was it. He said she had the finest seat he had seen for a cripple." The woman continues to chatter since the Lady in inquiring. "He was beside himself kept saying that if someone named Maldred found out that he would be a dead man. Something about being hired for her by him, personally I do not understand why the Lady has him. She only has one guard, and I have been assigned as her maid. But, she is usually half dressed when I arrive."
Taking a sip from the offered cup, Lyanna stares pensively at her aunt as she listens to the handmaiden's account, her eyes lightening up at the mention of her bastard uncle. "So… The guard was picked by Ser Maldred to look after my aunt's safety?" she mutters, perhaps more to herself than to the woman. Yet her demeanour seems earnest and a little distraught, as she turns her gaze towards her. "Have there been any signs of… threats to my aunt? Some occurences that indicate she was in danger? Perhaps because of her station as Ambassador to Stonebridge, even?" Lyanna arches an eyebrow, looking a bit startled at her own chain of suspicions.
The woman laughs a little. "I do not think any would threaten your aunt. She is the gentlest lady I have had to look after. Quiet easy to work with, I do not think any would touch her. But, I would not be the one to ask. Perhaps that Maldred fellow, it really just sounds like it was a riding accident. Hopefully she will wake and if she does not, and I mean no offense Lady but I pray she goes peacefully and in her sleep with no pain. Poor dear deserves that much."
"I probably will ask him, should I meet him anytime soon." Lyanna replies to the remark about her bastard relative. She does look a bit tired and burdened by more worries than just the one presently so apparent. The woman's last remark though, about her prayers for Firth going peacefully and all, makes her almost jump in her seat. "By the Seven! I hope it will not come to that!" she exclaims, suddenly as white as the sheets that cover her unconscious aunt. "Where's the Maester…? I should speak to him… He should be able to tell me anything about how serious this head wound is…" Her words get a bit slurry, as finally her fatigue starts to claim her. Yet she resists sleep with a surprising stubborness.
"Lady go and rest, she will not be moving anywhere. If there is a change I will get you first." The woman promises. "The maester can answer your questions later." She adds. "You have a maid yes?" She adds.
"Aye. Florance is already helping preparing the chamber for me…" Lyanna replies, as her eyes slowly find it hard to stay open. And then the slender figure on the chair relaxes, sliding in a cozy sleeping position, and the Frey is silent - apart from the slow and regular breaths of sleep. When her maid enters the chamber a few moments later, she has to carry the lady with the help of Septa Mariah over to the guest chamber, where Lyanna sleeps till the late hours of the morning - enjoying the deep and thorough rest she so desperately needs - and a short break from her worries about relatives and current political developments.
