|Summary:||Igara offers strength and advice to Isolde.|
|Related Logs:||Games Men Play|
|Guest Suite - Tower Hall|
|Room desc goes here!|
|Mon August 1, 288|
And yet once they get beyond the door, and said door closed, Igara's demeanor changes once again, no less fond, but less panicky and girlish, more mature, holding both of her cousin's hands and looking into her eyes. "Tell me what's gone on, Isolde," she asks of her. "If there is trouble, you know I will do anything to help you."
As the whole of Igara becomes more confidant, Isolde looks grateful. A long sigh escapes her and she dips her head over their joined hands. "My dear cousin…since our ride to the graves yesterday, there is much that hangs in the balance of what I took from my half-brother on that hill. What news he had might very well do me in no matter whether it is true or not."
Igara leads her cousin along with a resolution of spirit, bringing her to a chair and herself pouring for her a goblet of wine. "That man ought to have been flogged for putting his hands on you so, be he brother or not," she murmurs. "Come and tell me, Isolde, what news he brought as dire as this."
Following after, she furrows her brows and slowly sits. The idleness during all of this makes her perch at te edge of her seat. Isolde rests her hands to her lap and shakes her head, "He is threatening my name, Igara. He has letters from my father that state I am not my father's daughter. He brought those to me on my wedding day, at my father's grave of all places. That is why he tried to stop me. I took those offending documents to have them found for truth. The Septon shall do that."
Igara widens her eyes at the news, then narrows them at the implications of them. "The blackguard," she mutters as poor language as she can muster, gaze cast aside in a moment of dark gloom. "To the Septon, you have given them? Ah, Isolde, do you not know that the Septon takes his hospitality at the Roost, and is close companion with that lot? Surely you don't think men of the cloth incorruptable, cousin. How they would stand to gain from such a blow to you."
Sharply green eyes settle on Igara for a long moment with her comment of Josse. "Cousin, I would hope you trust me in those I choose to put my faith in. Josse has been a confidant of mine for just as long and has taught me what I know of healing. I trust he will be discrete and he seemed just as distressed by the presentation of these matters. We need to confirm the validity of the letters and the Sept has trained eyes. They will keep this to themselves because of their vows." She lets out a breath and grips Igara's hand tightly. "I have them, the letters. I promised to return them…but I did so in a bid to see Gedeon calmed."
Igara looks unconvinced, but she doesn't press the point, letting it by with a wary glance. "And so if the letters are returned as verified— be they true documents or merely forgeries so artfully crafted as to pass keen inspection (sure, for nobody would dare endeavor to pass such things off if they had anything less than a perfect fake)— then how will your course be changed? Surely you don't mean to step down. And, by Seven, it is a promise well broken. He has no right to keep such things."
"That is a risk…if they pass either true or untrue." Isolde grows silent at the bid to learn of what she will do. A sigh leaves her. "I fought him, despite my first belief because these are my people. I will not give up what I hold dear. I will not lose Stonebridge or Tower Hall. I mean to stand to him, to defend my honor." Terrick would balk and ask for her loss of power. It would do them well if she was gone. They would have a chance again. "As my Lord Husband said…it is timed rather..oddly."
"It is not timed oddly," Igara dares to stand against the Lady's Husband, though she would, of course, not do so in person. "It is timed most exactly as House Terrick needs it. And if you mean to contest the letters no matter their veracity, ah, my cous, take and destroy them. Put them from your mind, deny all knowledge of ever having seen them, be it as though they had never existed. You are your Lord father's daughter, and you -are- Stonebridge."
"The damage is done, even if the letters are to be destroyed. Ser Jarod Terrick knows of them…Gedeon told him. It means in time he will be bound to share with Jaremy and he in turn, his father." She shakes her head, "Destroy them as we will..now with that knowledge in other's hands…we are to look guilty." She lets out a slow breath and looks to the hearth and dying embers. "My Lady cousin…what is most prudent? For if destroying them does not imply falsehood of these letters it will bring more attention than we long for."
Igara gives a snort that would befit an agitated knight on the battlefield, not a fifteen year old girl at her needlepoint. There's a warrior in her yet. "Let them talk, only destroy their proof. Or, better…" her witch-hael eyes glisten with the openings of a plan. "Give them to me. I have made long study of calligraphy, myself, and I will make a copy of them that you may return with impunity, for to even a slightly well-trained eye it will be a base forgery. Let them wave those about, and turn up your nose at them, and if the people ask for proof of their lies, they will have an embarrassment to show."
At that prospect offered, Isolde feels herself hearten but then also wonder at her deception. "I can see now why my mother enjoys you…despite your age you are as wilely as a maester, dear cousin." She compliments. "Where have you learned such ideas?" She whispers in curiousity as she studies the younger woman. "An embarrassment that will take his head. What if he does believe in what he has and he thought to save me from this union. I do hate to punish him, he has been punished all his life and I did love him dearly."
"I have learned much from my father and more from his court," Igara explains. "I have always known that she sees best who sits with downcast eye, and it is a wonder what men will say within your hearing if they think you preoccupied with your needlework," she leans toward her cousin, imparting these secrets of a life under the cover of virtue. "And blast his head if it means to do you such wrong. He has his interests, and has made them clear. It was fortunate enough that he was so fat-headed as to actually bring the letters to meet you. We cannot expect such fortune's favor twice. We must move swiftly."
"Oh Igara, I was so exctied to see him, I thought maybe I would be happier for it. But this news he brought.." She shakes her head and squeezes Igara's hands, "I think I have much to learn from my cousin, I pray that nothing comes of this that keeps me from that time we could spend together." She lets out a long breath, "Let the Septon bring his news..let him tell me what they find and from there we will decide what to do. Then we will move as swiftly as we can, but I must have the truth for myself.
Igara's brow furrows a little, but she nods her assent to letting the Septon go with the letters. "Very well. But bring me some examples of your father's hand as I might practice while the letters are away. It must be a passable forgery, after all, if one with flaws. Oh, my cous. We will have a good long time together, if I am allowed to do anything about it," she smiles. "Although now it is the month of my birthday. I shall be sixteeen, and not much longer unmarried, myself. But to whatever corner of the lands I may be wed, let us always be dear friends, cous."
"And it will be a marry celebration.." She tilts he head, looking over Igara. Isolde sighs and smiles. "I will get you what I can…but I will not deny that I feel ill in this." Committed, but ill. Yes she nods her head, leaning in to kiss Igara's cheek.
Igara returns the kiss, not quite on the cheek, but at the side of her cousin's mouth, not centered, but kissing half-cheek half-lip in a friendly fashion. And, hands clasped, she smiles brightly. "To the North! I hope my father would not be so far away with me. Though I do hear that in the North the winds run wonderous fair. You would sure be a welcome sight. And I will come to visit you, too! Do not feel ill. There are men who mean to do you wrong. We will turn the wrong upon them a hundred-fold and be glad of it."
"You certainly have the will of a man…hidden beneath that little mask you wear.." Isolde muses and then grins as Igara speaks of visits. "Yes of course, and you are always welcome here." She says and then tilts her head, "I am glad you are going to stay. To have someone to confide in will be a blessing of the Seven themselves. Sisters then." Isolde intones, keeping to her cousin.
"I have the will of a woman, gentle cous," Igara corrects, "Which is often the much more formidable," she adds with a playful narrowing of her eyes. "Sisters, yes," she breaks out into a beaming smile. "One would think the Lord my Father would have provided me with enough of them already. But you are so dear to me, cous."
"Ahhh well put. You speak truth…but I meant in strength. Men are bold in the face of public display….you show that ten fold. I am impressed by your fortitude to show yourself as you do." Isolde shakes her head, still a little taken by the younger Frey. "I wonder how I have become so dear. Such a small time for this decision to be made. But thank you. As you are for me." She keeps hold of Igara. "Be assured you will always have a place here in Tower Hall."
Igara gives a warm, lop-sided smile of ease and comfort to her cousin. "I have waited upon you at your wedding. What closer a bond may two women share than for one to see the other into the hands of the mother? Though I do fear, if the Lord your Husband has already taken to yelling and throwing things about, that you may end up unhappy with the match."
"He is inspired, dare I say…his temper.." It was the first time she had seen him in such a fluster. Isolde dips her head. "I know you think this union well because of the ties to Nayland, dear cousin. But I was hoping for another to share my life with. I know that is not what the Seven have asked of me, but it was wish none the same. A foolish wish that never was seen. So for now..I will try to find the union agreeable and make what I can of it. Seven know I will try."
Igara lowers her voice, "Has he stricken you, dear cousin? Be he Nayland or no, he would answer for that," Igara draws close to ask in hushed tones. "I hope beyond hope for your happiness. A marriage is always such a risk. You never really know what a man is, do you? I can only hope for good fortune in my match, or, if I am unfortunate, that my ability to stay quiet and do as is asked of me will soothe a wrathful or a drunken husband."
"No, he has not struck me though I am not sure there won't be a day he does…it may come some time. I am strong willed and sometimes at the wrong moments." She lets out a breath, "But for now, all I have is strong words to make my ears ring, that I can press through." Isolde pats Igaras hand. "He will never turn that voice to you, not while I can say something. But ifyou ever feel the need to leave, I would not fault you, dear Igara. Never."
"Leave you? Nonsense. Not except if my father summons me away or I must go away to serve my own husband," Igara leans close to her cousin to give her a tender hug, then parts from her, going to the lounge to pick up her embroidering project. Which is a real thing as well as a clever excuse. She lays it out on the table. "I do not like it that he yells at you, especially now, as you are rightfully scared, under attack. I gathered that he was trying to instill in you some nerve to fight. But you needn't yell at a person to do that. 'Tis better done with comfort and encouragement, isn't it?"