Page 277: Messages
Summary: Senna and Valda discuss messages and women's work.
Date: 22/04/2012
Related Logs: None
Senna Valda 
Parapet — Tordane Tower
The circular rooftop is set with crenellations and two guards watch over this area on shifts. Set in the center is the roockery, created with iron and wood, the cage is ventilated and has openings on either side to allow for Raven releases. The view of the town and surrounding area is large, with the breeze rushing in off the waters.
April 22, 289

It has been a day of great movement for both nobles and servants alike in Tordane Tower. Standing upon the parapet in a cream gown diagonally slashed with emerald green along the torso, the Castellan watches the sun set over the stone bridge for which the town is named. A newly raised standard of Nayland at Stonebridge has been set at the entrance to the structure. At first, it seems her gaze is focused upon the scenery, but a perceptive person would note the lone lady seems to be looking past it all at something only she can see.

In many ways, this has been a return to a near-forgotten normal for Senna. First noble parties, requiring a good deal of cooking, and cleaning, and filling in for visiting ladies. Then a birthing in the morning. No more days of laundry and campfires, of stitching up wounds and battles. Still, the war has stood her in good stead, as Stonebridge's maester now knows her for a useful and educated woman. It has the advantage of a few lighter jobs, not the least of which is running messages to be sent by raven. It's this that brings her to the roof, where she pauses upon seeing the Lady Valda. At first, she tries to move past her, not drawing any attention to herself.

"Back so soon?" Valda arches an eyebrow, asking the question without looking. After a moment, she glances over and blinks once, the greatest show of surprise anyone in the Tower can claim to have seen from her. "Ah, I was mistaken. Were you sent to find me, girl? NO more messages, I insist. I've had enough of those today."

Senna dips into a curtsey when Valda addresses her, keeping her eyes veiled by her lashes. "My apologies, my lady," she replies politely. "I was just bringing a few messages to the maester for the ravens. Was there something my lady required?" she asks, looking up just slightly.

Valda snorts softly, turning her gaze back out over the town in rapidly approaching twilight. "The ability to turn back time, child. I do not suppose you have a pitcher of that in your hands, hm?"

"I'm afraid not, my lady." Senna turns her gaze out toward the bridge, one brow arching slightly at what she sees there. "I've generally found it easier to change the minds of men than to wrestle with time itself."

"Changing men against their wills is a fool's errand. While it can be done, it is rarely worth the time and effort. It is far better to bring them to understand precisely why it is in their best interests to allow you to guide them. Then the possibilities are endless." Valda's tone has turned instructional.

Senna's lips quirk slightly, where the lady cannot see. "I find it easier to bring them to understand why it was their idea to begin with, my lady," she murmurs, taking a few more steps along the parapet to slip the messages into a locked box outside the rockery, there for the maester to retrieve them.

"That is what I mean, child. There is no other way with men." Valda's demeanor remains only partially in the present time and location, for a distinctly distant quality pervades her voice. Certainly, she would not converse so with a servant if she were in her right mind. "These messages you are sending… I can guess at least a few of the topics. Likely the senders and recipients as well. The Tower has not been this busy for so many different reasons in all my years here."

"I know not what they contain my lady," Senna demurs. It's half a truth, at least. She may not have read the messages, but she hears, she listens, and she can guess. Besides, it's not polite to admit you know what's in the letters. Once they've been delivered, she returns to a spot a few steps behind and to the side of the lady, hands clasped neatly before herself.

"Of course you do not," Valda replies wryly, her sidelong glance toward the servant making it plain how little she believes that. After a bit of silence, she asks, "Have you seen Lady Cherise and her babe? I would not disturb them so soon after the event, but I wish to know how they fare."

"I assisted, my lady," Senna dips her chin to Valda. "Mother and babe are both well. As I was not there for the entire process, I cannot speak to the thoughts of the father in the matter." Which is the interesting part, anyhoww.

"The father?" Valda blinks herself back into the present and turns to actually look at the girl. "Why would Ser Aleister have been there at all? Surely he would wait until all was said and done and a servant had gone to inform him of the event before entering."

"And I left before such a thing occurred, my lady," Senna agrees evenly. She keeps her hands clasped neatly in front of herself, watching the lady from beneath the veil of her lashes. "Shall I have your supper sent here, my lady?" she offers after a moment.

"I am certain Ser Aleister was quite thrilled to finally meet his trueborn son." Valda leaves no question as to the lineage of the child. "No, no supper. I find I lack hunger this eve. Although, if you should see…" The words die on her lips and she shakes her head. "No, nothing, child. Thank you."

Senna dips her chin, stepping back with a curtsey. "I'll just be back to work then, my lady. If there's anything else you might require, please know I am at your service." At least until one of the Naylands directs her otherwise.

Valda simply nods, then suddenly asks, "What's your name, child? I'll request you next time." Whatever that means.

Senna pauses near the stairs at the question. "Senna, my lady," she answers with a flex of her knees. "Senna Delacourt." Not a name of a servant who's native to Stonebridge, but instead one who arrived along with the Naylands. The surname may actually be better known. Some thirty years before, there was a young knight on the tournament circuit who was quite popular among the nobility. Popular enough to marry a scion of the Smallwoods before he disappeared from the public eye, at least.

It takes a few moments for Valda to connect the dots of that surname. "Ah, I see. And are you the personal retainer of any particular Nayland?" One can almost hear the wheels turning in her mind.

"Not in particular, my lady," Senna shakes her head, taking a step away from the stairs. "Though I've served both Lord Rygar and Lord Rutger, and traveled with the Nayland forces in the recent conflict as a healer." She watches the other woman as she thinks, perhaps more interested in her reactions than anything else.

Valda's brow lifts ever so slightly. "So noted. You are dismissed… for now."