|Summary:||Having been barely seen since arriving at Highfield, Corrie is for once taking visiters and this time it's Einar.|
|Related Logs:||None specifically, touches on Tia/Saethwyr relationship, Corrie's pregnancy and other general topics|
|Guest Chambers, Highfield Keep|
|Fresh rushes cover the floor of this guest room. A large four post bed sits of centered in one corner. Heavy curtains are pulled back upon entrance to show a lush, light blue velvet coverlet over a feather down mattress. Golden wheat stalks are haphazardly embroidered on the fabric's soft surface. Small tables sit to each side of the bed, on the surfaces of which sit a candle stick and holder. Another table modest in size, is set to the center of the room with two small soft cushioned chairs seated at its left and right. A couple of shelves are set about the room to house the private book collection of whomever resides, a wardrobe sits in one corner for the guests belongings. A window who's heavy coverings are pulled back by day, let a warm sunny glow in. By night, they are loosed and cast the room in complete darkness.|
|Wed Sep 05, 289|
Where as in the beginning, when the midwife said Corrie should go off the herbs, they hoped she could fight through some of the madness, well, time has proven not so. Milder herbs to help her sleep are taken almost constantly, but even nightmares interrupt those most evenings. She's taking in just enough food to keep her and the babe alive, but it's hard to get her to cooperate with much less. Lucid days are rarer than non-lucid ones. Her hair is always kept in tight braids so she does not rip it out and she's more often just in chemises and older dresses, having ripped some of her finer ones. Today, though, seems a lucid day. She is awake, not raving, and sitting up in bed. Her hand maid murmured some happiness to spread among the few near by Flints that it would be wise to visit her now, if they wished. When Einar comes in, Corrie is sitting up in bed, one hand over her quite prominent stomach and the other holding open a book. Her hair has half been torn out of the braid, but she's stopped with whatever made it so. She looks gaunt in face and body otherwise, like some little girl playing at pregnancy. She speaks softly, though with the clear intentions of telling a story to her son or daughter, not of talking to the shadows.
Cordelya's condition still comes as a shock to Einar, even after all these months, but it's one he's grown to be able to hide. Knocking on the door, he waits a moment in case of protests and then lets himself in, pausing just inside the door to close it behind himself, not quite as easy a task as it might otherwise be givne he has a tea tray with him aswell. "Good afternoon," he starts, almost following it with a 'how are you feeling?' but in the end deciding to go with , "What are you reading?" As he steps closer he looks for a clear spot to set the tray down in before taking a closer look at the book, "something for the little one?"
Muddy green eyes abruptly flicker up as she hears him coming in the room, about ready to jump out of her skin, but then she sees who it is and she relaxes just a bit. Her pulse still beats like a trapped bird in her throat, but she trusts him. And she knows he's real. A pale smile dances acrossher thin lips as she carefully sets the book down and studies his young features. "…Old children's stories from a book out of King's Landing… about southern nobility and elegance. I figure if she is to be raised in this strange world, she should get a better understanding than I did." Clearly she is far more lucid than she's been in days today. And still shockingly pregnant. One might wonder how her tiny frame can stand up with that belly.
Setting the tray down to one side Einar then moves quickly to fetch one of the small bedside tables into a more useable position. When thats sorted he fetches the tray again and places it within Corrie's reach. Nodding at the explaination of the book he then raises an eyebrow and asks conversationally, "She? Do you happen to know something the rst of us don't." There's no accusation in there, or hostility, just good natured conversation. "I'm afraid I'm not sure exactly what it is," he indicates towards the pot, "I just intercepted Orlagh as she was bring it to you."
"Probably the one to put me to sleep, so I don't go raving again… the only bloody tea safe for a babe. Or perhaps they were tired of hearing my words…" Corrie now looks a bit off put by the thought of sipping the tea, just in case it would drive her to sleep. It's the first day she's felt sane in ages and she doesn't wish to put that aside so quickly. She does, however, reach out for the plate of biscuts and pull it onto the bed. She will eat ALL of those before the night is out. "And no… I do not know that it is a girl. I… I just feel something. And I know I shouldn't. All the men want boys, boys to be heirs… But she feels like a girl…"
Einar ponders for a moment, it's not quite a dither, but it does come close. Decision made he then moves the table and thus the tea set a little further away, so it's within reach should it be wanted, but far enough away that it can't be construed as an indication she should take it. Settling himself down in a nearby chair he'd have to confess to being on the list of those who want it to be a boy, even if just for Anders' sake. He's not going to be devistated if it's not though. "So long as she, or he, is born healthy and well then I'm sure everyone will be chuffed to bits," he offers with a smile, leaving unspoken the part out Corrier herself coming through the whole thing safe and well too. He struggles then, momentarilly, for conversation, unsure of just how much she has been kept in the loop regarding events outside of this room. "I take it you've heard that Tia is now betrothed to Ser Saethwyr?" he starts with, "and he's stayed behind while the other Charltons have gone to Stonebridge to pursue Lady Danae's claim." He may still not be sure what he thinks of the man, but he is at least pleased that Tia doesn't have to worry abut him dying, there has to be a limit to what she can take after all, and that'd be pushing it.
A touch more worry mottles itself across her pale, gaunt features as she hears the news confirmed from his lips. "I…I had heard, but I was not certain if it was true or I had dreamt it. That's what that damned tea does to me…" She almost snaps at the tray of tea, scooping up another biscut instead. She takes a few good bites of it and sighs, "How… how are you holding up with this news? How do you feel about him? Her? I…I know it was not happy for you before." She looks upon him, genuinely concerned as she asks that question. And then something in her features shifts, changing, an abrupt smile jerking across her mouth a heartbeat later. "Here!" She reaches out, grabbing his hand whether he likes it or not, and drawing it to the near side of her stomach. There, he can no doubt feel that pressured stirring beneath. The shape and push of a little heel.
Einar blinks once, wondering briefly how he didn't see that one coming. "She's happy," is all he answers with, there might have been more but if there was then it's cut off as she draws him closer. He stands quiet and still for a moment before a grin cracks over his features, "with a kick like that he'll.. she'll.. get on just fine with Anders' horse." A joke at his own expense maybe, but it amuses him. Taking his seat again he asks, as the thought occurs to him, "does that not get in the way of.. " he trails off there with a guilty glance towards the tea betraying the fact that his next word would have been 'sleep'. Turning back to Corrie he finishes apologetically, "no, I guess it wouldn't. Sorry."
She looks a bit relieved as he doesn't freak out at the feeling on the side of her belly, but smiles and cracks a joke instead. That makes Corrie smile in turn, rather proudly really. She chuckles a little to his question and shakes her head. "Sometimes, yes… it depends how much tea I have had and how tired I am, this is all very exhausting too, so I sleep. I just wake up… a lot. Many visits to the chamber pot, it's hard to lay down and be comfortable… But it's fine. You can ask. You can always ask or tell me anything, Einar, you know that? You are as close as a brother as I have in these lands." She doesn't quite let go of his hand yet, but gives it a gentle squeeze even as he stands straighter.
Einar could have lived without some of that information, the chamber pot for example, it's one thing noting it as a likely consequnce of things but quite another to have to stated so blatantly by the Young Lady of your House, while you in her bed chamber. There's a faintly awkward moment as he tries not to think about it befor ehe nods in both acknowledgement and answer to her question. "I know," he states simply, drawing back once more to a proper distance. "Not much longer now though I suppose," he adds, struggling a little to right the conversation after that wobble.
If Corrie realizes just how awkward that whole thing was, she's giving him a gently graceful exit by not acknowledging it. She just keeps that weak smile upon her lips and sinks back against the pillows once more, free hand around one last biscut that she pops past her lips. Once she's done eating that, she looks back to her prominent stomach and nods, "A few weeks, maybe earlier, given my size…So… I guess not much time at all. It'll be fine… " She says, almost out of no where. Trying to convince herself as much as him. She's said it a lot lately.
"Of course it will," Einar reiterates gently. Noticing the sudden lack of biscuits and remembering one of Orlagh's previous comments about getting Corrie to eat, a plan occurs to him. "I'll go get some more of them," he states, reaching for the now empty plate, "it was a fresh batch in the kitchen so there should still be plenty." He then notions towards the tea and asks, "Do you want me to take that away?"
Cordelya considers that a few moments before nodding. "Yes, please… no tea, but more biscuts, and meat if there is any. I might as well eat while the appetite is there." Corrie is still a healer at heart, she knows the practicalities of how badly she needs food on her body and stomach. So she will take advantage of this night to eat as much as she can and perhaps sleep without tea or madness. "Thank you, Einar… do not be a stranger, please. I know I am… a fright to be near, these days, but do not leave me lonely…"
Something clicks in the depths of Einar's mind, that bit that always comes up with the bad things. Stranger. A stranger. The Stranger. God of death and secrets, but largely death. The image combined with Corrie's gaunt form combine to form something he'd really rather not think of and he just fails to surpress a slightly shudder. Tea in hand he turns back to his good-cousin and nods once, "I'll be right back, I promise. Biscuits and meat." Composed again he turns and strides for the door, intent on his new quest to the kitchens.