Rubicon River - Library
A fair sized room in the interior portion of the hold has been set aside for records and the like, no windows present to unnecessarily
age the scrolls and volumes contained within. Tall shelves line the wall, full of carefully labeled books and packets, leather bindings still neatly polished. A large hearth dominates one wall, while smaller lamps ring the room to provide light to those who retreat to this quiet sanctuary.
A large table takes up a portion of floor space, stiff wooden chairs surrounding it, with a surface large enough to spread any number of maps and notes upon, with built in spots to hold ink and writing instruments. The rest of the room is dedicated to a half dozen larger chairs, well padded though well worn, settled around a low round table.
The news has officially spread that Lady Ryeira, widow of Rubicon River, and Lord Gaerwyn of Central Hold have wed, and as of yet, the fall out from the other Conclave members has been minimal. Certainly, there has been a certain few disgruntled Holders, many of the older men claiming it merely an act on Ryeira's part to reclaim power at the Hold. However, so far the dissenting voices are yet outnumbered, and the newlywed couple has been left to manage the Hold in Lord Lyerdes's name as they see fit. Today, Gaerwyn is settled in the library, the walls of shelves containing records of every sort, neatly organized and tagged, though none of these have been removed it seems, as the Warden just sits, seemingly pondering his surroundings.
Things have been settling into a routine around the hold again now that the nuptials are over. The residents mostly taking it in stride, giving rise to more truth to the fact that more may have been aware of their feelings for each other than had let on. So goes discretion. Ryeira is continuing to hide her condition, though she still wakes up in the night to purge, or to excuse her self ever so politely during the day. Though now she hides it not out of need but fear of the past repeating itself. Another missive has caused her to seek Gaerwyn out. Servants finally do guide her to his location and she smiles to see him scroll in hand. "Black rock supports." She says of their nearest neighbor. That Rubicon did help find the runaway child from a few days hence probably aided that decision.
Gaerwyn glances up at the sound of the door opening, quickly moving to his feet as Ryeira enters, offering the Lady a deep bow, moving to take her hand and guide her hurriedly to the chair he so recently vacated. "My lady.." He offers with a kiss to the back of her hand, and a smirk, as the words now have a far different connotation than they once did. Gently, he moves to take the scroll from her, a smile crossing his face at the mention of Black Rock, nodding. "It is in Toban and Johanna's best interest to do so."
There is something impressive about an organized march, even if you can only hear it. The sense that a group of people that are moving in unison is unavoidable, and at the same time, very ominous. They can be felt for miles away, if enough people move in tandem, a basso heartbeat in the ground. On this day, however, it is only a slight tremble and the echo of multiple feet on perfectly set tile floors. The shivering comes to a stop outside of the library doors, and then, very quietly, an aide slips into the room, eyes downcast. She ghosts over to the side of the Lady Holder and waits patiently.
She takes the formal greeting in stride, it is her nature to such formality in public as well. At the quickly offered seat she arches a brown but takes it all the same. She will take as much care as she can. "I had been concerned after the last conclave, but it does us both good to have strong and reliant neighbors." She glances about the room for a moment, "Might I ask what held you in here without a book or scroll in your own hands." She looks up as the aid enters the room, rising to her own feet to acknowledge her lady, "Yes?"
"Reports from Western.. There's an odd.. disturbance in the islands, if you could call it that. I'd been searching our records, for something similar." He flicks his fingers as if to indicate that the search was as of yet in vain, "I was contemplating whether the dolphineers records may be better suited." As the aide enters, Gaerwyn offers a nod of his head to her, before taking a step back, letting Ryeira handle the issue of her aide.
In return, the aide bobs her head and murmurs, "My Lady, you asked to be informed when the relief from the Healers Hall and Xanadu Weyr arrived. An announced flight from their transport wing arrived a little under an hour ago. Several of the apprentices and journeymen have been dispatched to post already, but they also sent a Master of the craft to act as a representative. She requested an audience with you."
As Gaerwyn steps back, Ryeira steps back beside him her hand touching upon his. Whether the conclave will or not makes no matter to her, it is clear she views her new husband, Lord Warden Gaerwyn as her equal now. "Then we are honoured to receive them, please usher them forth and bring us some provisioning to suit the numbers." The usual tea and crackers, a modest meal to ease the end of a journey. She cants her head to her husband and smiles a touch before schooling her features to meet with the representative.
Gaerwyn nods his head at the aide's words, offering a smile to the aid, even as he leaves Ryeira to do the talking - equals or no. As refreshments are ordered, a gentle squeeze is given to the lady's hand before he moves to a small sitting area, a group of a half dozen chairs arranged around a low table, though still he stands. "Please, pass our welcome to the others, as well."
The aide's retreat is punctuated with a bow before she move to the door with a whispering stride. When he opens, she speaks briefly with the attendant on the outside and then stands back a little when a rusty old voice grates, "I'm a healer, child, not a queen. There's no need."
The first to enter is a tallish man, though most of his features are hidden beneath a long hide coat and a low, fully yoked hood. He slinks into the room like a hunting cat, slow and alert, seeing and not seeing. Then he merely flows away, towards one of the back walls.
In the doorway now is an ancient woman, remarkably upright, but still gnarled with age. She paces into the room with calm, using a staff to assist her, and it echoes hollowly around the walls until she stops an acceptable distance away. "Greetings, Lord and Lady Holder. I bring tidings of friendship from Xanadu Weyr and the Hall of Healers." Her head lowers briefly in respect. "I am called Fraille."
The arrival of the hooded man, causes Ryeira to glance to Gaerwyn before looking back to the doorway as the older master does enter the room. She in turn inclines her own head. "Such friendship is well received and We in turn will give protection to those that serve under this roof as if they were one of our own people." She motions to the sitting area, "Please take your rest, refreshment have been ordered up for you. A short flight a dragon does make it, but chilling none the less."
Gaerwyn's eyes remain on that hooded figure as it slinks through the doorway and across the room, blue eyes tracking him to the back wall. There his gaze lingers until a squeeze of his hand by Ryeira brings his attention back to the room at large, a greating offered to the elderly Healer in his own turn. "We welcome you and yours to Rubicon River, Master." He offers her a bow in turn before, putting Ryeira's actions to words, he offers her an arm to escort her to a seat.
Master Fraille offers a small, dry chuckle when Gaerwyn approaches, shifting her staff to her other hand and taking his arm in turn. "The rumors of Rubicon's hospitality are well earned." She spares a brief glance to the hooded man in the rear of the room before moving with the Lord to an offered chair. "The Hall would have send more help, but with the Numbweed harvest so close at hand, much of our resources are occupied."
"I do understand, it is harvest time in our own fields and the seas are kind this season, so we too have few to spare. Those that we can we will or at least tithe as we are able to Xanadu and in turn to those crafters that support us." Ryeira responds as she takes a seat across from the Master Healer. "Please do introduce your aid if you would, before I my own guard grows wary with the lack of knowledge." She asks as she nods to the hooded figure, even at this time the tea and crackers are served.
Gaerwyn ensures that Master Fraille is settled before taking his leave, his path taking him past Ryeira to check once more on his lady - an action which is totally unneccesary but seems to at least momentarily alleviate his worry. His own chair is chosen such that the figure upon the back wall remains in easy sight, even as his eyes flick momentarily to the Healer to respond. "Nothing it without hardwork, and the more hands in the fields, the quicker the task will be accomplished."
Master Fraille smiles a bit knowingly when Ryeira's question is asked, and with a nod in response to the Lord's statement, she raises a hand. Immediately, the figure by the back wall ghosts over until he stands at her right shoulder. "This is Tenebrous," she says. "A skilled healer, and one of the finest practicioners of botanical lore on the south continent. Despite the needs of the harvest, he elected to come here, to render his unique services." A pause. "He speaks with my voice and my knowledge, when he chooses." Behind her, the hooded man bows low before removing his hood with a practiced gesture. It's an ordinary face beneath, save for his eyes, which are strangely unfocused.
"Then you are both welcome." Ryeira responds with an inclination to Tenebrous as he is revealed. She glances to Gaerwyn then back to the healer, "I am not often quite so forward, but I must ask if there is any in your retinue that is familiar with the bearing of a child, notably from one who had such difficulty to do so in the past." Ryeira's fingers once again reach for Gaerwyn, as her free hand touches almost subconsciously to her stomach, still flat at this stage, but the indication well clear.
Gaerwyn nods a greeting to Tenebrous as the man steps forward, the Lord Holder indicating that the Journeyman should join them with a wave of his hand. "It is a sacrifice we are most grateful for, Master Fraille, Journeyman Tenebrous." The Warden and Lord says to each in turn. His hand is found, and he spares Lady Ryeira a long look, nodding as his eyes wander back to Fraille, falling quiet.
The telling creak of hide is the only indication that Tenebrous has shifted positions, but Fraille's eyes flicker up to him, non-the-less. "I doubt very much that the Fetch could sit still now, after you've said such a thing, my lady. He is…eager to please." She turns and fixes her student with intent eyes. "Go. Take no one with you and do not be seen at your work. The Lady Holder's privacy must be guaranteed, her treatment secure." Tenebrous quivers with unspent energy as Fraille speaks before nodding his head curtly. "It will be as you say," he murmurs. It's a thick voice, rough and not accustomed to use. A man of few words. He nods to both Lord and Lady before turning for the door, pulling his hood up in the process.
The response does surprise Ryeira, and still it does delight her, her fingers squeezing that of her Lord Husband. Privacy to be assured, treatment and remedy promised. It seems to good to be true. Though for more happiness of the moment, Ryeira is not to have as the smell of the tea seems to be the thing to set her off this time. Her skin pales a touch and she rises from her seat, "If you will both excuse me, I must attend to personal matters." With that the lady does scurry from the room, no doubt to a waiting lady with a basin for her sickness.
Gaerwyn returns the squeeze of Ryeira's hand, nodding to Tenebrous as the man excuses himself, before his wife's sudden departure has him grimacing slightly. At a more sedate pace, he rises from his seat, offering Fraille a bow. "Master, the Hold is at your disposal. If you would excuse me.." He straightens and turns to go, leaving the aid who showed the Master in to tend to her needs.