|Summary:||Gwyllam arrives too late, and Anais tries to see to the administrative details of Evangeline's death.|
|Related Logs:||Logs of Evangeline's death|
|Spare Room — Terrick's Roost|
|A room with furniture and stuff.|
|February 15, 289|
Not so long ago, riders came in search of the maester, their horses lathered and their words urgent. Trouble with the Lady of the Roost and the child she carried. There was an extra horse for him, but by the time they could return, Anais' young handmaiden, small, dark, quiet Nina, was there to meet them, shaking her head. Too late. She did, however, direct the Maester to a room near the Lord and Lady's chamber, where Anais is quietly trying to organize a coherent response.
Gwyllam fairly bursts into the chamber, his face flushed and a trickle of sweat running down the line of his jaw. His hair is plastered to his forehead and his breath comes in deep, gulping breaths. "Lady!" The sigh of her draws him up short, suddenly at a loss for words after such a desperate attempt to find her quickly. "I'm so sorry, m'lady," he finally manages. "Construction on a new barn went wrong and I was called out…" He trails off, knowing excuses likely won't matter now.
"I know, Maester Gwyllam," Anais says gently as he rushes in, setting down empty pieces of parchment with a faint, reassuring smile. "It's…What's done is done, and I don't think anyone would have wanted you to do otherwise. Though I might avoid Lucienne for a few days if I were you," she sighs softly. "I don't know if anything would have helped. She…seemed like she was ready for it. I don't know." She falls silent for a moment, pressing the heel of one hand to her brow. "Jacsen and I are going to need your help now, more than ever."
"I am here for the Tower," Gwyllam manages after a steadying breath, Anais' words only gradually slowing his heart-rate. "If there is anything you need, you have but to ask." He pauses for a moment, then shakes his head. "Too soon for the babe," he murmurs, mostly to himself. "Would you like me to send Ravens with the news," he asks, his attention suddenly back on the present, in this room.
"Lord Jerold will need to hear it," Anais says slowly, "But it may be that Jacsen will want to write that letter himself. Or carry the word personally." That thought brings a wince. "Though I hope not the latter. Jarod will probably be willing to bring the word in person, but I don't know if it should come from him. I…I'll need help pulling together all of the records," she adds. "I don't know for certain what all Lady Evangeline was seeing to, and someone will need to take care of it. Gods." She drops down into a chair, rubbing a hand at her brow. "How did I marry into a family where /nothing/ goes right?"
"This family," Gwyllam says after a moment, "with you as a member, survived a seige that destroyed many others." He lets that linger there, then seems to get back to business. "I will ask her attendants to make a list of what they know, as well as to bring anything from her chambers that would be of import." He swallows. "Does she have other family that will need to be informed?"
"I…don't know," Anais admits, shaking her head slowly. "She did- She wanted to make sure Lucienne got Middlemarch, though. If you could draw up a document to that effect, I can witness it. I think that might…make things easier. A little bit. For Luci, at least. It's going to be difficult enough for her in the next few weeks."
Gwyllam nods succinctly, making a mental note, though Anais' words leave another mark on his face…one of uncertainty. "Is there something else happening with the lady of which I should be aware," he asks, cocking his head much like a raven might.
"Well, her mother just died, for one," Anais points out wearily. "And she was…upset. I don't imagine that's going to change. And this war has upset all sorts of prospects. Honestly, the way Lord Anton was pursuing her, I'd have thought he'd have pressed for a wedding before he ran off to war, but he didn't. And I imagine that's weighing on her as well. It would me."
His flood of relief suffused Gwyllam's features and he nods several times in silence. "I see, I see. Yes. Well…then we should redouble our efforts at rebuilding," he finally manages, weakly, spots of color appearing on his cheeks. After that, he falls silent, standing with his hands clasped before him, watching Anais.
Anais quirks a brow at that relief, and the nervous way the maester stands. She's quiet for a long moment, then simply shakes her head. "I am not going to ask tonight," she finally says. "But you really ought to practice your composure." She moves to stand then, levering herself out of the chair in a smooth motion. "Please be ready to hear from Jacsen. I don't know if we've gotten a septon back since the siege, and without one, we'll need someone to see to the body. I don't- I don't know anything about how those things are handled here yet."
Whatever color was present on Gwyllam's face drains. "When I chose books to bring with me to Four Eagles, I didn't pick…I mean, at the time, there was a Sept here. So naturally, I asssumed…" He trails off. "I'll see what I can learn. Please, tell Lord Jacsen that I am at his service. If I am not in the Rockery, I will leave word on my desk as to my whereabouts."
Anais is sympathetic to that response. "I think we all assumed any number of things, Maester Gwyllam," she says ruefully. "And then the gods laughed, and turned everything on its head. If you run into any trouble with Lady Lucienne, you'll talk to me, won't you?" she asks, moving back toward the desk and the papers.
"Certainly, lady." Gwyllam half-moves to the door when Anais turns her back, then seems to think better and pauses. "Will there be anything else, m'lady?"
"No, maester," Anais says quietly, smile faint. "Thank you." And with that, she turns her attention back to the papers…and what she'll need to set to them.