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@Rillewen
She opened her mouth to say something else, but seemed to reconsider. Instead, she pressed her lips together again and crossed her arms lightly. She took a moment to think about how he had bothered to clean up. Gladhron, bothering to clean up, not only after himself but also others? Gwestion might not even believe it even if she swore it was true! But it was undeniable that Gladhron had done exactly that. Even if he had stayed behind… he had made himself useful. While feeling like absolute crap. She guessed that meant he had changed more in the past few years than she’d realized. Maybe Gwestion had drilled his older brother into some new manners? “Well,” she finally said, before pausing again. It was just so… unexpected. “Thank you.” She uncrossed her arms again. “Very considerate.”

He smiled slightly when she finally decided on a simple thank you. “You’re welcome.” He answered quietly, wondering if it had all gone over her head… again. Well… whatever. He wasn’t giving up. For the moment, he flashed a little grin. “Just don’t tell Gwestion,” He added, joking. “He might start expecting me to do that for him.” Surely, that would get her thinking? That he would do the dishes for her, but not for his own brother, that said something, right?

She assessed his expression as she thought about his words. So it hadn’t been Gwestion who’d managed to instill a new habit? Because he basically just said he didn’t do this around his brother? But Gladhron’s tone had been jesting. The man did like to joke around - that was nothing new. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first thing Gladhron had hidden from Gwestion, either. She thought back to their conversation at headquarters. Where Gladhron had said something so very similar. About Gwestion not knowing he noticed more than he let on, either. Arnyn felt a little sad about that, but she figured she’d better not say anything. She found it difficult to joke about, too, so she didn’t. Because why wouldn’t Gladhron want his brother, whom he loved, to know such things about him? Simply so he could avoid expectations?

She almost laughed darkly, given that she was dreading all the expectations people had of her, beyond the walls of her house. Maybe, just maybe, Gladhron was onto something. Be all that as it may, he was asking her not to tell Gwestion - and it was an easy secret to keep. She had asked Gladhron to keep much bigger ones. “Alright,” she agreed quietly.

He smiled faintly in relief, quite glad she was willing keep this from Gwestion, even if he was mostly joking about that. Once she agreed, he glanced around to check if there was anything else needing to be done. “Well. Do I need to tidy up any further, or are we good to go get break/lunch?” He asked, unsure how he looked since he hadn’t taken a look in a mirror or anything.

She blinked. “I– I don’t know about that,” she mumbled, before clearing her throat. “Besides, I think I had better either stay here, or go to headquarters,” she added. “After last night, I’m expecting a summons.”

“Summons?” He blinked in surprise at that, puzzled at what she might mean by that. Who would be summoning her? What for? He frowned slightly as he tried to figure that out, but decided to just ask. “Summoned.. Where?” He paused. “If you don’t mind me asking… what exactly happened, last night?” He wondered. “I mean, whatever Gwestion and Tercen needed you for.” He explained. “I uh, sort of missed whatever they came to tell you.”

She averted her eyes. “Summoned to the Citadel. Ava and… Gwandhyra… got into a bit of an altercation at the theatre, after we left. They had words. Your friend pulled out a weapon. Tercen got the guards involved. They needed me to clear it up at their headquarters.”

Gladhron listened, his eyes widening a bit at the drama that occurred. “An altercation?” He frowned. “Wait, a weapon?” He was a little shocked. Dom, pulling a weapon? “Was anyone hurt?” He had to ask, trying to get a better picture of this, and feeling quite puzzled about it all.

Had anyone gotten hurt? She almost scoffed, or breathed out a hollow kind of laugh. “No one got hurt at the theatre,” she reassured him.

Gladhron nodded slowly, and was about to say ‘good’ when he caught the ‘at the theater’ and hesitated. “What about elsewhere?” He had to check, uncertain if she was being evasive. Because that was exactly the sort of thing Gwestion might pull to evade a question… and he was aware that they had several similarities between them.

“It was just words,” she told him, forcing herself to look at him instead of giving herself away by not meeting his gaze. “I made sure everyone got out of there.” That much, she had done, at least. Not that she was likely to get much gratitude for it from any of the parties involved.

@Lantaelen
She did like his laugh. By Estë... she liked much about this man. Too much. Was she risking him? By setting this all up, just for him? By inviting the possibility of the Hand finding out about him, with her? He would not allow it, that was certain. Was she really risking a man's life, simply for the way he made her feel when he was with her? Simply for her own selfish gains? But Torniel was buzzed on the excitement of his company, as well as the wine. Wasn't it curious how wine and Dauntless seemed to go hand in hand?

With a curious expression, she watched as Dauntless - Abrazimir - set down both their cups on the side table. When he pulled her down into his lap on the couch, Torniel was quite pleased. Her eyes twinkled, even though her face remained polished. Its only hint as to what she thought of his move, the fact that one corner of her mouth was tilted upward - just a tad.
Much more could be learned from her body language, of course. The way she did not fight him. The way she did not tense, not even in the slightest. The way she was letting him hold her, while she loosely put an arm around his neck and was unabashed to look him straight in the eyes.

"Don't overdo it with the flattery," she warned him, her tone genuinely sweet, nonetheless. "The few souls who would have succeeded, or perhaps did in fact succeed, at making such an evil think twice.. well. I could never contend with them. Nor do I feel a need to." Her hand brushed at his curls. "I know my limits. And my strengths. Let me take care of you some more, my Southern Knight." There was not much of a need to lean in anymore, for her lips to kiss his. To claim them, as hers, tonight.

@Arnyn

Just words. Gladhron thought about that for a few seconds, moving over to the table rather than standing by the sink. “And that couldn’t wait until morning.” He frowned, failing to see what was so urgent about it all. Not that he wanted Gwandhyra to stay locked up all night. And he figured Ava and Tercen would have been annoyed, but… having seen what Arnyn had looked like, and having experienced what it felt like to be poisoned… he couldn’t really see the need for the urgency Gwestion had spoken of. Honestly, one would think someone’s life was at stake or something, the way Gwestion had talked! He felt a bit annoyed at his brother, even as Arnyn began to explain.

“If anyone had mentioned Umbar..” Arnyn supplied. “And Gwandhyra was convinced Ava was an agent of the Blood Priest. And Ava thought the same of him. It was best to talk to them both, at once.” Or so she had thought, at the time.

Ah… yes. The secret Umbar matter. He frowned at the apparent misunderstanding between the two, then sighed and sat in one of the chairs. “Right.” He rubbed his forehead, thinking it all seemed like a big mess. And partly due to him, he realized a moment later. Or perhaps mostly due to him… and his mistake the other night. Oops...

“Gladhron,” she said, hesitantly.

He looked up at her, waiting to hear whatever she wanted to say.

Arnyn drew in a deep breath, pulling out another chair to sit down as well. But she didn’t know how to continue without… possibly making the mess even bigger than it already was. “The conversation Gwandhyra and I had—” Her eyes lowered to the table. How was she supposed to say anything about it, without… without making everything worse? “He pointed out some…” she did not want to say ‘things I missed’, because she knew he would probably instantly link that to some of the words she’d said the night before. And she did not want Gladhron getting upset at his friend. If he would. Maybe he wouldn’t, even if she said anything. But she did not want to risk it, and it felt like… like he might. If she did.

“Some… what?” He wondered with a little frown, curious where she was going with this.

“Some important matters,” she finally settled on. “Such as how introducing someone we are not even entirely sure about, to Seri, Brooke and Aislin, isn’t… ideal. And that more oversight for Ava would be prudent.” Arnyn was choosing her words carefully. But a big part of her suspected that she was doing it all wrong, regardless.

Gladhron listened and considered that as a small frown stole over his face. He nodded slowly, realizing what she meant. Belatedly, of course. “I hadn’t even thought of any of that.” He admitted softly, feeling bad about that. “When she showed up, it didn’t even occur to me...” He frowned deeper.

“He made some good points,” she reiterated, with a small nod. “Which he is also planning to share with Aragorn. King Elessar. Which is why I am expecting a summons.” That should tie it together enough, she supposed. To give him some context, and some kind of explanation.

He nodded slowly. “I see.” He sat back, thinking about all of that. “So, you can’t leave, because if they send a summons, you might miss it.” He guessed.

“Right,” she confirmed.

Gladhron sighed and nodded as the finality of that settled over him. “Alright. Well, I can go and get something to eat, and bring it back.” He offered, what seemed like the most logical alternative. “Then, we just have to hope you don’t get summoned before I get back.” He smiled as he hoped she wouldn’t protest this plan.

“The guard also needs you to go in and deliver your testimony to the night’s events,” she told him, more quietly.

At that, Gladhron paused, looking confused. “Testimony? To what? I didn’t see any of that. I didn’t even know any of it happened until just now.” He pointed out, wondering what they could possibly want him to tell.

“They still want it. The same goes for Seri and Brooke and Aislin.”

“But that’s..” Gladhron paused, frowning. “That seems a bit pointless…” It sounded like a waste of everyone’s time, he thought, but he didn't add that out loud.

“Not necessarily. It’s a known way to verify a story. See if everyone’s account matches up. They’re actually simply doing their jobs.”

Gladhron sighed, still not seeing how useful his ‘testimony’ would be. He shook his head slightly in mild frustration before inwardly accepting his ‘fate’. “Right. Well, I’m not going down there until I’ve eaten something.” He declared determinedly. He stood up. “Do you have any preference? I’ll try to hurry and get back before you might have to go.” He promised.

She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing, resulting in a long moment of silence as she looked at him. He was going to make the Guard wait, when she had just told him what they required of him? Knowing it was already past noon, and the Guard might not appreciate him keeping them waiting? Did Gladhron not wish to speak to his brother about any of this? Was food really all he could think about right now?

“No,” she finally got out. “No preference.” She stood, as well. “Are you sure? Gladhron - if the King still agrees with the plans made - you will be leaving in just a few days. There is much still to be done, before everything is ready. I’m not sure you have much time to waste?”

“Waste?” He repeated questioningly, surprised at her use of the word. “I’m not sure what you mean.” He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Actually, a part of him did guess at what she meant. And therefore, he debated whether to tell her that he wanted to spend every minute of that time with her.

“Waste your time,” she repeated, “when you need it for other things.”

“I don’t consider it wasted.” Gladhron informed her with a small frown that she would consider it to be a waste for him to spend his time with her. Seriously, how could she not realize… He held back a sigh and instead shook his head, letting his frown change into a smile. “But I should hurry up and go and get some food, or you’ll get your summons while I’m gone.”

“Quite likely regardless,” she said, blinking at his tenacity. “In case I do, I can leave a note at the door,” she added, stunned by how adamant he was being about this.

Not wanting to ‘waste’ any more time by delaying, Gladhron nodded and smiled at her. “Sounds good. I’ll be back as quick as I can.” He promised, then headed straight for the nearest door; the kitchen one. He hurried outside with a little wave back at her before hastening away toward the street. It wasn’t until he was outside that he remembered that his cloak was hanging up in the hallway… and he’d left his shoes in the living room. But it was too late to go back for them, now. At least that would help urge him into haste.

Fortunately, Gladhron had brought a few coins with him to the theater last night, since he’d expected to have to buy a ticket. Since he hadn’t had to after all, he still had them. And, when he’d changed into Tercen’s clothes, he had transferred the contents of his pockets into the pockets of the borrowed pants. So, at least he hadn’t left completely unprepared. He just hoped it would be enough.

@Rillewen
She just watched him as he rushed out of the back door. Arnyn shook her head and went to retrieve paper and a writing kit. Before she got started, she filled the pitcher again and had a glass of water, then put on some coffee. She recalculated a lower dose of belladonna. Started writing out orders for safe house rotations, started listing some thoughts for the inevitable meeting which she would soon be summoned to in the Citadel.

Since there was concern about her having to leave at any moment(and because he wasn’t much of a cook), Gladhron decided it would be quickest to get food that was already made, so he went to the first cookshop he found on the street, and hoped that the food they had would be good. And that Arnyn would like it.

It wasn’t much longer before he returned with a sack, which held some thin flatbreads containing cooked meat and veggies and things, each one wrapped in paper to contain any mess, thus making it a convenient food to eat while moving around. Since he wasn’t entirely sure whether it might be impolite to just burst into her house without warning - even though he had spent the night there - Gladhron knocked on the kitchen door, assuming she’d probably still be in there.

Arnyn was thinking about the endless ‘form’ that would be coming her way from the Guard, when there was a knock at the kitchen door. She slowly rose to open it. “No entry without payment,” she joked, though her tone missed the mark a little, as she was distracted by all the thoughts racing through her head.

Grinning, he held up the sack he carried. “Will this suffice for payment?” He asked, trying not to look like he’d gotten cold while he was out. At least he hadn’t had far to go, so the wraps were still hot enough. “There’s a couple of sandwich wrap things. One chicken, one beef. I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer, but I don’t mind either option. So you can pick whichever you like, and I’ll take the other.” Simple and easy, right?

“It will,” she agreed, stepping aside to let him in. “Weren’t you cold?” she wondered out loud, one eyebrow raised. “Or is this a northern thing?” She closed the door behind him. “Chicken for me, I think. There should be coffee, by now, too.”

“Cold?” He asked, as if this were a foreign word. Then he smiled as she mentioned the coffee. “Mmm, yes, it smells good.” He agreed, while taking a look at the two wraps. He identified the chicken one and placed that down in her spot, and the beef one in his own spot. “Oh, I didn’t have to go far,” He shrugged, disregarding the matter of him being cold. “Besides, it helped encourage me to hurry.” He grinned as he went to grab two coffee cups from the drying rack, and set those in their places at the table. “Milk, right? No sugar?” He paused as he looked around, trying to spot where she might keep milk, or if she had any at all.

“Right,” was all she said. The… ordinariness… if that is what she could call it, was startling. He showed no hesitation, there was no weight in his voice. Just casual friendliness, handed over like it cost him nothing. As though this were the most natural situation in the world? As if it were natural for him to take the lead in her own kitchen?

She sat, because not sitting felt foolish. To give herself something to do, and to clear more space, she gathered her writing tools and the papers, and moved them to a far corner of the kitchen table.

Her expression was thoughtful as she watched him, smiling slightly when he looked over at her. Meanwhile, the wheels of her mind were turning. He kept… showing up. He kept… staying. Without demanding anything in return. It wasn’t as if she didn’t notice that. She wasn’t blind. But Gladhron was kind by nature. He was loyal to his friends. He would have done the same for anyone, right? He’d said as much, during the night. He was only being the man he was. That was all this was.

He paused briefly, and finally asked. “Sorry, do you have any milk?” He asked, unsure she kept cold things. In his search for food earlier, he had only checked the pantry shelves. Once pointed in the right direction, he let out a little ‘aha!’ as he located the jar of milk. He set it on the table near her so she could use it first, then retraced his steps from earlier, going to where he remembered seeing some sugar so he could add some of that to his own coffee.

Once they both had their coffee fixed up as they liked, and the milk and sugar were put away, Gladhron took his seat. Now, without anything else to keep him busy, he glanced at her, noticing she looked… he wasn’t sure. Thoughtful? Puzzled? Whatever it was, she seemed a bit preoccupied, or something, but he wasn’t quite sure how to categorize it. Growing thoughtful, himself, as he tried to take a cautious sip of his coffee, Gladhron gave her a questioning look and lowered the mug without yet braving the hot liquid. “Are you alright?” He wondered “Are you nervous about this… summons thing?” He asked uncertainly. That almost had to be it, right? He wasn’t sure what else it could be, but then, he also didn’t know what else might be going on with her. Perhaps it had to do with the impending mission? He tried to make a guess, and hoped to offer a bit of encouragement. “I’m sure everything will work out alright,” He mentioned with a little smile, just in case it was a matter of her simply being nervous about the summons. “And anyway, you don’t even know for sure if you are going to be summoned.” He pointed out, shrugging slightly. To him, it seemed like she was only assuming, but she might be wrong.

Arnyn breathed out a small ‘ha’. “I am sure,” she told him, her tone saying ‘believe me’. “It’s just a matter of when. Not if.” And if, somehow, she did not get summoned, she would ask for a meeting herself. There was not a chance she would proceed on this any further without having spoken to Aragorn. And definitely not after last night’s conversation at guard headquarters.
Slowly, he nodded as he unwrapped the paper from his food, thoughtfully taking a bite as he considered her words. He was too hungry to keep putting it off, but he could think while he was eating, despite whatever Gwestion might say in teasing.

She wasn’t exactly hungry, but that wasn’t the reason Arnyn didn’t immediately unwrap the food he’d brought for her. She frowned slightly as she watched him sitting across from her at her kitchen table.

@Arnyn

After he’d finished chewing his first bite, Gladhron tested again to see if his coffee was cool enough to drink, and blew over the surface. “In that case,” He mentioned while holding his mug up, hovering near, but not quite to his mouth. He spoke somewhat tentatively, in case she didn’t like what he might say here, but he went for it anyway. “You might ought to try and eat while you can. You said you hadn’t had much in the past few days, right?” He pointed out. “I just… well, I’d hate for you to.. you know, pass out or something, from hunger. Especially in front of the king and all, you know?” He could just imagine how completely humiliating that would be, especially for someone like Arnyn.

She tilted her chin minutely. Might ought to try? Such a careful way of phrasing the fact she should take the chance to eat.

Gladhron finally ventured a sip of coffee to avoid her gaze, and to stop himself from pointing out that she had passed out once already, and that, by her own admission, she’d only had… what, one proper meal, since then? He wasn’t even sure how much of a meal it had been, either. But he was worried about her. He was so preoccupied with that thought that he took too big of a drink. Immediately, he jerked his head back with a little noise of alarm, spilling a few drops in the process. One hand hastily came up to cover his mouth to keep from spewing the hot liquid at her. Behind his hand, he let his mouth open in an effort to draw some of the cooler air in, panting as if that would cool the coffee somehow, but that didn’t really help. He finally managed to swallow it, but his mouth continued to feel a little scalded after that.

Arnyn pressed her lips together, amused when he seemed to drink the hot coffee too brazenly. She kept her eyes on him, leaving no doubt she had seen every moment of what had just happened, but she didn’t make fun of him for it. Instead, she decided on an approach that might give her some more insight, and she leaned her forearms on the table. “You’re right,” she said, driven by a strange kind of curiosity for his reaction. “All I’ve had to eat - or keep down - since… the evening of the 27th…” she recollected, “were those crackers after the tavern. And what little you saw me having during the meetings at headquarters, yesterday.” Even though she wasn’t hungry, at least the smell of the food wasn’t threatening to turn her stomach over, anymore. She could probably have half, or something. See what that would do.

Gladhron was still recovering from his coffee incident, but he looked up as she leaned forward. He listened as she admitted to having had so little to eat. The 27th? He mentally tried to calculate what day this was. It was… now the 31st, right? He blinked, trying not to stare at her, but he was a bit astonished. As someone who enjoyed eating, he could hardly imagine going that long without doing so, at least not by choice. He remembered, of course, how bad his stomach had felt last night. How he’d tried to settle it with crackers, and promptly had to rush to the washroom to get rid of them. So, while his initial reaction was to be stunned and amazed, after he gave it a little more thought, he understood entirely. He gave a small nod as he acknowledged her words. “Well, hopefully, you’ll be able to keep that down.” He said softly, nodding toward her chicken wrap. He really didn’t want her to be suffering from hunger on top of everything else! And if she had to go before the king, which he assumed had to do with this Umbar mission, well… that really would be bad, to end up fainting from hunger. And it likely wouldn’t help her convince the king to go forward with this mission thing, either, if that’s what it was about.

He showed surprise. Then acknowledgement. But there was no chiding. No outrage. No criticism. He should realize, of course, why eating would have been a problem for her - after getting a taste of the poison himself. But Arnyn also knew how easy it was to reproach someone else. How easy it was for someone to forget the other person’s situation.

She smiled. “Hopefully,” she agreed, and she did unwrap the food then - unrushed, neatly - to take a bite. She was careful, not trying to hope for much. But she found she could chew it, without it tasting off. She could swallow without difficulties.

Arnyn leaned back against the chair and let out a close-mouthed sigh through her nose. Once her mouth was empty, she flashed a little grin. “Forgot food could be good.”

Gladhron grinned back, having held off from taking another bite for now, to let his mouth recover. He had tried not to watch her too openly, but it was a relief to see her take a bite, chew, swallow, and then smile and proclaim it to be good. “Well, I can’t exactly take credit for cooking it,” He laughed. “But I guess that means I chose well?” He smiled.

It mostly meant that her body was starting to deal with the poison better, she thought. But she chose not to point that out. Maybe he hadn’t done so either, for the same exact reason.
“You did,” she allowed instead. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have stepped out to get anything,” she admitted genuinely. She put down the wrap, the fingers of her hand curling around the coffee cup, before she reconsidered, remembering the way he’d just spilled his. So she picked up the sandwich again. As she took another bite, her brown eyes were still resting thoughtfully upon her friend. After the previous night, looking at him was hardly anything to be embarrassed about.
“Your hair’s a mess,” she told him.
Blinking, Gladhron turned his eyes to one side, then the other, as if he could look at his hair that way. “Is it?” He asked, wondering how many people in the streets had observed him like that. Oh well. It’s not like he generally cared too much about his appearance. Not with strangers, anyway… He grinned at Arnyn, though. “I guess I should probably try to find a comb or something,” He laughed a little. “Of course, all my stuff is up on the fifth.”

“Yes. And obviously I don’t have one.”

“Of course not.” He agreed jokingly, playing along. “Why would you have anything like that?”

Arnyn grinned. “It’s not that bad,” she told him. “One could call it rugged, maybe.”

Gladhron gave a little laugh at her saying it could be called ‘rugged’. “Sure, we’ll go with that.” He agreed, amused as he took another bite of his wrap.

Amused, she took a sip of water. “People probably noticed your feet more than your hair.” She shook her head. “Were you really that eager to get out of here?” she asked, trying to hold back another grin. “No time for shoes, or anything?”

At that, Gladhron blinked with feigned surprise, and then took a look at his feet, looking as if he was shocked to find that he had no shoes on. “Oh, so that’s why my feet were so cold!” he pretended to realize, before also realizing he still had food in his mouth. Oops. He tried to pretend like it didn’t happen… Shaking his head in amusement, he shrugged slightly with a little smile lingering on his face, as he finished chewing, and swallowed. “I wondered about that.” He shrugged. “What can I say? I was hungry.”

When he spoke with a mouth full of food, Arnyn leaned back into her chair instinctively, a somewhat uncomfortable expression on her face. Thankfully, Gladhron swallowed before speaking again. A hesitant grin formed at his words. “Going out on the streets of this city barefoot,” she said with a shake of her head. “Your ‘wilderness’ is showing.” He was certainly not a man of the city, going out without shoes. “I don’t think I have ever seen anyone walking these streets without some sort of shoe or slipper on. Not even in summer.” There was no way he could have not realized it, either, once he’d stepped out. Yet he had not returned to come claim them.

Gladhron took note of her reaction to him talking before he’d finished his bite of food, and mentally chided himself for getting too eager to say what he wanted to say; he had been trying so hard to ditch that habit, but sometimes it was easy to forget when in the moment. But, rather than calling attention to it by apologizing, he decided to just move on as if it hadn’t happened. In reply to her comment that his ‘wilderness was showing’, he laughed lightly. “Oops. I’ll have to try harder to hide that, or Gil might start trying to shove me into a bathtub or something.” He said, without showing any indication that he planned to actually do anything to hide his ‘wilderness’. He smiled faintly as he took another bite of his wrap.

With a smile, Arnyn raised her eyebrows. “Imagine that,” she said, her tone dry.

The moment was nice, with her smiling, as if they were back in the north, with none of this stuff about poison and Umbar and responsibilities to burden her and steal her joy. While he knew that she couldn’t simply neglect all those responsibilities, he couldn’t help hoping that this moment could last for a good, long while, because it seemed to him like she really needed more relaxed, carefree moments like this.

---

Leaving the Houses of Healing, Gwestion was stunned to see how late it was. He blinked as he glanced up at the sky to gauge the time, and wondered how it was that no one had mentioned to him that it was already past noon! He let out a sigh of frustration at the situation. He had wanted to check on his brother.. what, almost twelve hours ago? He couldn't believe that this much time had passed since he'd first began to feel concern about him.

Wincing at whatever Seri had put on his ankle, he set off toward the street with a slight limp in his step, frowning. He appreciated that she was willing to keep quiet about the fact he had faked an injury, but he wasn’t sure why it was necessary to put something on his leg that caused such discomfort. Did she think he wouldn’t be able to fake a limp well enough?

Sighing, he hastened down from the sixth level, stopping off at Isys’ house briefly, partly to get news, and partly so he could change. He was rather relieved to hear that Seri and the girls had already gone to the guard headquarters, and so there was no reason not to come in and change his clothes. He was quick about it, and he left Seri’s poultice on, according to her instructions. Fortunately, no one was home except the servants, and he was about to avoid Claery’s inquisitiveness because she was busy doing something, and Gil, apparently, had walked the ladies down to the lower levels. Gwestion was glad to know that they had not been unescorted, and so now he just had one more concern to trouble him. One which he hoped to put to rest as soon as possible. With that intention in mind, he slipped out of the house with minor interaction with those who worked there, and hastened on his way down to the next level down, where he sought the house belonging to Arnyn.

In the light of morning, now, he was a bit less certain which one it was, however. He was certain that he’d been given something to make him sleep, and he felt as if it had made his head a little fuzzy. Fortunately, the fresh, frigid air was helping to clear it now, but his memories of last night were a bit faded, and he found himself trying to remember what the number had been, and looking at each house he passed, hoping it might look familiar… but the daylight made everything look a bit different.

@Rillewen
Kaylin had spent the better part of the morning working with Trastion at the grounds. The kid had come a long way, she admitted to herself—though she wasn’t about to tell him. If she’d praised him too much, it might go to his head. Still, sparring with him had burned off some of her restless energy. Not all of it, though.

That was where the leather pouch pressing against her ribs came in. She brushed her fingers against it absently as she walked, the weight of its contents far heavier in meaning than in substance. Belladonna. Nightshade. Arnyn’s request. Kaylin had told her she’d manage, and she had. She’d made the right contacts, nudged the right elbows, and here it was - hidden away from prying eyes, just as promised.

Kaylin wasn’t entirely sure whether she was proud of herself or downright foolish for going through with it. Whatever Arnyn was doing with this, it wasn’t healing tea or a soldier’s poultice. No, it was darker than that, and Kaylin’s guesses hadn’t been far off. Arnyn hadn’t denied them, after all.

She turned into Arnyn’s street, boots crunching against grit and patches of slush left by the morning frost. The houses here had neat facades with shutters against the pale afternoon light. Not many folk were out at this hour. The Fourth Circle was quieter than the bustling lower levels, though not so lofty as the higher ones. Kaylin tugged her cloak tighter, scanning the doors until her eyes settled on the one she knew. Arnyn’s.

And there it was: the memory of this morning, Gladhron stepping outside... Kaylin slowed, lips quirking in wry amusement. What would she find now? Him again, perhaps, still playing nursemaid? Arnyn herself, pale but proud, perhaps bristling at Kaylin’s curiosity?

More Collaboration with @Arnyn
Gwestion’s ankle continued to bother him. While Seri had assured him it wouldn’t do any sort of damage to him, and the pain was not in the bone or muscle or tendons or any of that… there was an unpleasant burning sensation that continued to trouble him, which led to the slight limp that affected his gait. Gwestion’s breath puffed out in little white clouds, and he kept his cloak wrapped close around himself. It wasn’t as cold as he had known of the weather to be in the North, of course, but it was still chilly enough that he wouldn’t like to be without something to protect him from the chill wind that swept through the streets, especially in the upper levels.

Several houses ahead of where he currently was, Gwestion looked up when his peripheral vision caught sight of another person on the street. When he did, he could just catch a glimpse of red hair peeking out from her cloak. That hair color wasn’t the most common around here, so it wasn’t difficult to recognize the Hyandaner with whom he had trained, the other day. He raised a hand to wave and get her attention. Partly, to greet her and say hello, but also in the hope that she might be able to assist him. Surely, Kaylin would know which was Arnyn’s house, right?

Someone waving drew her attention. Who was that? Kaylin stopped, now in front of Arnyn’s, waiting for whoever it was to come up to her. As he approached, she recognized him. Gwestion?

Kaylin couldn’t help the broad smile that was soon plastered all over her face. This was perfect. “Fancy seeing you here,” she told him.

“Likewise,” Gwestion replied as he neared her. “I hope you’re doing well this afternoon?” He glanced at the house, trying to decide. Was that the right one? The colors had been absent during the darkness of night, so all the houses had looked mostly white with various shades of black and grey added in.

“Stellar,” she replied, still grinning. “What brings you to the Fourth?” She indicated his leg. “What’s with the limp?” Because that was new - or at least, since she’d last seen him.

Gwestion made a face as she asked about his limp. “I attempted to turn one way, and my foot caught on one of the cobblestones that was a bit higher than its fellows, and therefore, did not turn along with me.” He explained with an expression of mild annoyance. “I’ve just come from the houses of healing, where I spent the entire morning being treated for a sprained ankle, and forced to ‘rest’.” He rolled his eyes with a little sigh. “But it’s really only a mild injury, nothing to worry about. I’m told I should be fine in a few days, but I have to keep a poultice on it, for now, and I’m supposed to stay off of it as much as I can, or some such nonsense.” He frowned down at his foot before looking up again.

“As for what brings me to the Fourth,” He continued, “I am seeking Arnyn’s house,” He answered. “Is that the correct one?” He asked, nodding toward the house she had stopped in front of.

“Sorry, that sucks,” Kaylin empathised with his injury. “At least you know it won’t bother you for long, right?” At Gwestion’s own question, she nodded. “This is the one. I was going to pay the Lieutenant a visit myself. I have something for her.” Her eyes ran Gwestion up and down briefly, before she shifted the pouch at her side, adjusted her gloves, then marched straight up to the door. No dithering, no second-guessing. A firm rap of her knuckles against the wood rang out, echoing faintly in the afternoon hush.

Kaylin leaned back, folded her arms, and muttered under her breath:
“Alright, Lieutenant. Let’s see how sick you really are.”

Gwestion gave a little nod of agreement with her. Indeed… it would not bother him for long. Not once he’d removed that poultice. But he would still keep up the pretense of a limp until they set out for Umbar, which would not be long now. After that, he could drop the act. He did not say why he was here, and he was somewhat glad that she didn’t ask.

And then he watched as Kaylin, without any further ado, marched right up to the door and knocked. Well, alright then. He followed her a little more slowly, but he joined her on the porch, just in time to catch the end of what she had muttered under her breath. He raised an eyebrow slightly in curiosity, but made no comment. Having seen what she had been like last night, he was intrigued… what did Kaylin know about her being sick? Had Arnyn been exhibiting signs of being ill before last night? He debated asking her about it, but he hesitated, unsure quite how to go about it in a tactful manner. Besides… she’d already knocked on the door, and someone would surely be opening it any moment. So, there wasn’t really time, was there?

@Rillewen
For a moment, Gladhron made her forget about everything that was weighing her down. For a moment, this silly scene in her kitchen was all there was. Having lunch. Sipping coffee. Exchanging easy banter. But it was not to last. No sooner had they finished eating, than a knock came at her front door.

Arnyn stiffened before she slowly lowered her cup to the table, as her eyes flicked into the direction of the sound. Technically, it could be anyone. But… She rolled her shoulders back before standing, and pushing her chair under the table. Before heading to the door, she dropped the wrappings of her lunch into the trash. Amazingly, she had finished it entirely.

Arnyn glanced at Gladhron. “Might be a messenger. If so, I’ll have to leave. Shortly, if not immediately,” she warned him.

With a slightly sinking heart as the nice moment suddenly came to an abrupt end, Gladhron nodded as he got up and followed her example of tossing the paper into the trash. Then he pushed his chair in as an afterthought. “I um.. probably better get my shoes on, and get my things together.” He realized, holding back a sigh. He’d already forgotten that she had claimed his hair was a mess, and it wasn’t really a big deal. He didn’t care enough to bring it up again. While she went to answer the door, he wandered off up the stairs to the guest room to look for his shoes, realizing that he couldn’t even remember where he’d left them.

She only spared him a nod, before moving to the hallway and opening the door. First things first. She had to know the exact situation. Arnyn unlatched the door and swung it open—ready to see a Guard or some grim-faced messenger from the Citadel.

Instead, Kaylin stood there. Cloak pulled around her, eyes bright, arms folded as though she’d been waiting too long already. After taking in the redhead, Arnyn's attention shifted to Gwestion.

Gwestion waited beside Kaylin, off to the side of the door where he was not in immediate view, but would be seen once she had taken note of Kaylin. He remained silent for now, deciding to let Kaylin and Arnyn conduct their business before he would make his own inquiries, for this would give him a chance to make observations and try to judge for himself whether… well, if the fears Dom had expressed last night had any substance behind them.

For the briefest instant, Arnyn’s surprise showed. Then her expression shifted, guarded, professional, though not entirely unwelcoming. “Kaylin. Gwestion.”

“Lieutenant,” Kaylin drawled, her arms still folded while she addressed - and assessed - the ranking officer recently turned friend. Arnyn looked more or less the same as when Kaylin had seen her last. Less tired around the eyes, maybe. Kaylin’s brow arched, taking in Arnyn’s neat braid, the faint color in her cheeks, and the smell of food still drifting from the kitchen. “Disappointed?” she asked dryly. “You don’t look all that ill,” the redhead went on to note.

Arnyn’s eyebrows raised momentarily, before they came back down and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully upon her fellow Hyandaner.

“Celume.” Gwestion greeted her a little more quietly, his nose registering the smell of coffee, but that could have been left over from last night, perhaps. He paused briefly before adding something. “I apologize again for the… intrusion, last night.” He wore the faintest hint of a smile as he recalled the bit of teasing that had commenced while he and Tercen were there, as he deliberately chose to drop a comment that he guessed Kaylin would pounce on… mostly so that he could see Celume’s reaction. So he could try to determine whether she would react as… well, Celume.

Kaylin turned to Gwestion, eyebrows raised. “Intrusion? What intrusion?” She asked, curious and almost dismayed she knew nothing of whatever this was.

Once he got up into the guest room, Gladhron looked around and realized that none of his things were up here. Right, of course. He had brought everything downstairs, hadn’t he? He shook his head at himself and came back down the stairs, where he located his shoes in the living room, along with the bundle of his clothing from the theater. He sat down on the couch to put his shoes on, then paused as he looked down the hall and saw that she was speaking with someone, although he couldn’t tell who. He held back a sigh, assuming it was a messenger with that summons. Meaning that they would have to leave. After a moment of thinking, he went back to the kitchen because he remembered he still had some coffee in his cup.

Arnyn stepped back, opening the door further for them, so they could come in. “Come inside. It's cold,” she ordered, ignoring Kaylin's question for now, almost sure that Gwestion would do the same.

But the redhead, while she did step inside, did not let go so easily. “What intrusion?” she repeated, now looking at Arnyn, once she'd closed the door behind them.

Arnyn tilted her head. “Gwestion and Tercen dropped by. Dragged Gladhron and me out of bed.”

Collaboration with @Arnyn
So far, she seemed far more like herself than she had last night, Gwestion thought. He nodded, also hiding his amusement as he waited for Kaylin to enter first before he also stepped inside. He decided not to add anything to what Arnyn had said. It was more fun that way, anyway.

Kaylin opened her mouth to say something, then turned to look at Gwestion a moment, before focusing a suspicious gaze back on Arnyn. “Bed, or beds, plural?”

“If Gladhron is still here, I would like to speak to him, please?” Gwestion requested, immediately after Kaylin. As if all of this was perfectly normal. But he was still watching for anything that might be… off.

“That is what everyone seems so keen on knowing,” Arnyn agreed, before chancing a look up the stairs. “Oh, Gladhron!” The Lieutenant called up, as if it were to be expected he was there. “Your brother's here to see you.”

Although her call was directed up the stairs, Gladhron heard her from the kitchen and sighed. He had just finished his coffee. After thinking about how appreciative she had been about him washing the dishes, he had decided to wash both their cups. While he still did not enjoy doing it, he did enjoy her reaction. He wanted to try and show her his feelings, without having to tell her. And he knew she wouldn't want to leave dirty dishes lying around, and she might be about to have to rush off, so…yeah. He was washing them, and so he did not come into the living room to see what Gwestion wanted.

Meanwhile, Arnyn's dark eyes flicked to Kaylin. There was, to her knowledge, only one person who had been told she was sick. “You spoke to Trastion,” she noted.

“Maybe I did. Bed or beds, Lieutenant?”

A deep sigh. “Why is everyone so interested in my sleeping arrangements?” Arnyn leaned her upper back against the wall, crossing her arms casually.

“Once I got back after your… intrusion…” she said slowly, with a glance at Gwestion, “I suppose we never made it beyond the couch.” It took everything she had not to laugh. But her face remained perfectly in control. It seemed like such an easy thing, after everything else.

Kaylin narrowed her eyes at Arnyn. A moment of silence fell, causing all three of them to hear muted sounds coming from the kitchen. “Either your guest is in the kitchen, or you have more company,” Kaylin said, trying to get a reaction out of Arnyn.

The latter simply gave her a non-committal - and hopefully confusing - smile before heading toward the kitchen.

When Arnyn entered, she began: “It was not the summons, but—” Seeing Gladhron washing their cups, made her halt mid-sentence. He was cleaning up, again?

Kaylin was on her heels, and she peered over Arnyn's shoulder.

Gwestion followed after Kaylin, while taking a cautious look around the as he went. Of course, if there was some sort of evidence of witchcraft or a spell having been put on the lieutenant, or her house, he supposed it wouldn’t be lying around in plain sight, but he looked anyway.

Entering the kitchen, he stopped short and blinked at the sight that met his eyes. He had been intending to look for anything that might hint at odd or unusual behavior, but he certainly hadn’t expected… this. Gladhron… doing dishes? He stared in astonishment at his brother, rendered speechless for a moment while Kaylin greeted him.

“Hiya, Gladders!” Kaylin said cheerfully. “Seems like you took great care of my friend here. If she was sick enough to skip her training with Tras this morning, while now she's strutting around and teasing me like she never lost a beat... Do the healers know you work miracles yet?”

Gladhron glanced over when he heard Kaylin’s voice, then saw that Gwestion stood right behind her, staring as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Inwardly, he groaned. But, while he hadn’t intended for Gwestion to see him washing dishes, he tried to pretend like he didn’t care as he turned to set the cups on the drying rack. It hadn’t taken long to wash them, since he had only turned on the tap and washed them under running water, rather than filling up the sink basin and all that bother.

For the moment, he ignored Gwestion and smiled at the redhead Hyandaner, instead. “Hi Kaylin,” He answered her, ignoring the use of 'Gladders', although he gave her a slightly puzzled look when she asked a rather strange question that he didn’t understand. “Huh?” Miracle worker? What was that supposed to mean?

“Who are you?” Gwestion asked then, interrupting. “And what have you done with my brother?”

Gladhron turned his gaze to him and gave him a blank look. “Do I know you?” He asked, then gave a feigned look of recognition. “Ahh right, the brother… Sorry. He’s not available right now, so I’m taking his place.” He explained, then glanced at Arnyn, scratching his chin with an expression as if trying to remember something. ”What did we do with him, anyway?”

“Left him in bed, I’d suppose,” Arnyn mused.

Kaylin prodded Arnyn with her elbow as she pushed past her and stepped into the kitchen. “Right, well. I have something for you. What we talked about?” Pointedly raising her eyebrows, she waved at the others. “Could we have a moment, gentlemen?”

Arnyn held back a sigh, but nodded as she came further into the kitchen herself. “Would you mind?” she directed at Gladhron and Gwestion.

“Not at all,” Gwestion answered Arnyn, before Gladhron had a chance to say anything further. “In fact, I also needed to speak to Gladhron. Or… whoever this imposter might be,” Gwestion mentioned with a pointed look at his brother. “Besides, I believe he is wanted by the guards.” He added casually, deliberately wording it as if Gladhron were wanted for a crime or something. He motioned toward the living room with a little tilt of his head.

Raising his eyebrow at him, Gladhron wondered about the guard thing, before realizing that Gwestion was probably referring to the report thing. “What… oh, for the imposter thing?” He smiled innocently, feigning ignorance of the reports. “Now that you know my deep dark secret, I guess I’ll have to kill you.” He joked. Whatever. He turned to the ladies with a hand held up to the side of his mouth as if that would shield his words from being overheard by his brother. “Don’t worry, they’ve got nothing on me.” He confided in a teasing whisper, then grinned and went to follow his brother into the other room to talk.

@Rillewen
Kaylin was about to speak, when Arnyn lifted a hand and stopped her. The two of them stood silently, giving the men time to move far enough away so they would not be able to overhear.

Kaylin raised her eyebrows and stepped closer, speaking very quietly. “Paranoid much, Lieutenant?”

Arnyn let out a huff of breath, half amusement, half warning. “Not everyone needs to know what you are handing over. You got it surprisingly fast, I must say.”

“Careful,” Kaylin murmured, feigning wounded pride as she unbuckled her belt. “Before I get offended.” She slid the pouch free from her belt and pressed it into Arnyn’s open hand. “Here. You can give me the pouch back later.”

Her eyes lingered on Arnyn’s face as she refastened the belt. “Were you sick because of…” She nodded at the pouch, still in Arnyn’s hand.

“That, and not enough sleep. And not enough food,” Arnyn replied, calmly.

Kaylin tipped her head, sharp eyes narrowing. “But you slept. Now. Today,” Kaylin half-stated, half-demanded.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve eaten something?”

Arnyn’s mouth curved. Her tone was as dry as winter air. “Yes, mother.”

Kaylin sighed, falling back a step, arms folding as she studied Arnyn. A soldier appraising a comrade she had grown fond of despite the risks. “I’m not sure about this, Lieutenant. I’ve come to like you. Be careful with yourself, alright? I don’t want some whole other officer, whom I have to start figuring out from square one.”

Arnyn smiled. “Do you have me figured out, then?”

Kaylin laughed outright. “Not even close. But at least you’re not boring.” She looked over her shoulder, toward the living room, then back at Arnyn. She decided bluntness would serve her better than subtlety. “What’s going on between you and Gladhron?”

Arnyn almost let habit take over. The quick, quippy deflection, the misdirection that left the asker chasing shadows. The reflex to push the question aside with a half-smile and no substance. It was an easy thing to do. Distance was safe. Let them wonder. Let them joke. Anything but vulnerability.

Instead, she held it back. Kaylin was a fellow ranger, a subordinate, but she had also become a friend, sharp-eyed and stubborn, and Arnyn found herself less willing to play the same old games.

The silence stretched, and Kaylin’s eyebrows lifted. Surprise flickered across her face. Was Arnyn actually going to answer her? Was Arnyn actually going to share? But then she saw the way her friend had lowered her eyes, the way she seemed to stand on the edge of saying something personal… while some other part of her was still holding her back. Or at least, that is what it seemed like to Kaylin.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Kaylin said quietly. “You can tell me to shut up, if you like.”

A little smile appeared on Arnyn’s face as she raised her gaze to look Kaylin in the eyes. She let the mask slip just enough to offer an honest reply. “Gladhron was just looking after a friend,” she told Kaylin. “I do have friends beyond the rangers, you know…”

Kaylin grinned. “Of course, you do.” Then she tilted her head. “Are you sure that’s all it was, though?” she couldn’t resist asking. “I mean… not every friend would just… spend the night here.” She made a face. “To look after you.”

Arnyn sighed, a half laugh escaping her, but her mind leapt to the obvious answer she’d ended up arriving at earlier: of course Gladhron had not meant anything more by it! He was the sort of man who would patch up a stranger in the middle of nowhere - at least, he would if he knew how - or carry a wounded comrade half a league through the snow. He was optimistic, fun-loving. Too optimistic and fun-loving to ever waste such feelings on someone like her. Someone who poisoned herself by choice. Someone who buried herself in work and responsibilities until it hollowed her out. Someone like Gladhron sought brightness, ease, laughter. No - the care he was showing her now was born from friendship. Gratitude, perhaps. A way to pay her back for that cartload of supplies. She had been helpful to him and his brother, years ago in the North. He was returning the favour. Politely. Kindly. No matter what it might sometimes look like. Besides - he had said as much.

She breathed out - steady, decided. “That’s what he said,” she replied, moving to the cabinet where she kept her stash. “That he was worried. As he would be for any friend.” She let Kaylin watch her as she placed the pouch into the jar, aligning it with precision. Oldest to newest. Order in at least one corner of the chaos. The jar sealed shut with a dull click. A tidy, finished sound.

Rubbing a hand over her mouth and chin, Kaylin let out a little grunt. As if men always said what they were thinking… Let alone what they were feeling! And not just men, either - wasn’t Arnyn a prime example of that, herself? Of people not always saying what they were thinking and feeling? Surely, that wasn’t something Kaylin needed to spell out for her?
It was so obvious to Kaylin that Gladhron had a thing for Arnyn. Even though he’d never admitted it to her face or anything... But was it her place to tell Arnyn what she thought about that?

“Okaaay.” A pause. “You told me they’re leaving, right?”

Arnyn frowned a little, wondering where Kaylin was going with this. “They might be.”

“Well then. If they are, maybe pay a little closer attention?” Kaylin suggested. “When you’re all saying goodbye?” That would be a good time for Arnyn to notice if Gladhron really had feelings for her.

Arnyn’s frown deepened. “I always pay attention,” she muttered.

“A different kind of attention, Lieutenant,” Kaylin chided, but her tone was light. “I’m just saying, it may be worth some thought? How do you feel abou– ?”

Arnyn shook her head and pushed Kaylin’s shoulder, forcing levity back into the moment. “Anyway,” she said, declaring that subject closed. “Thanks for the… herbs.”

Kaylin rolled her eyes before a smug smile tugged at her lips. “I’m glad you are suitably impressed with my efficiency, Lieutenant!”

“Certainly. Maybe I could delegate some more things to you.”

Kaylin’s lips pursed unhappily. “That wasn’t what I was going for.”

@Arnyn
A warm bubble of heat and comfort settled around, like a shield against the demands and rigour of life and society all outside these four walls and domicle. Their faces were so close, Abrazimir able to admire the texture and contures of Torniel’s gorgeous face and features, his eyes darting and flickering from her eyes, her lips, even her nose and the roundness of her cheeks. What colour was spread across it, the Knight enjoying how a formidable woman could still appear so feminine and touched by such intimacy. The same might be said about him, so mighty of arm and prowess, speaking and committing such tender acts of affection.

He laughed without shame at her sweet rebuke, to not press his luck with overly kind words. He shrugged rather unapologetically, a motion that shifted his arms and thus her body caught in their embrace, from just a simple gesture. Her hands toyed with his hair and he craned his neck and face up, giving her more room to play with. ”I am-“ he started to commit himself deeper to her care, but her lips upon his silenced the answer. Actions always spoke better than words, as they said. And his actions that followed were most sincere and attentive.

Hands caressed, lips mingled, and many flags were planted to press claim and possession. It began on her couch, with two cups of wine to start. It ended in the deepest chamber of her lair, with her entire stock of wine depleted, and it must have been deep into the night, closer to dawn than to midnight, when exhaustion and expenditure laid them to rest upon the softness of her bed.

Abrazimir had never known such a deep sleep and slumber before. Moreso, given the sea training, and the time away from home, and the long labours of the past several weeks truly being put to chapter’s end as mutually decided by his body and mind, he slept so restfully and deeply that night. So much so that it might take a drumbeat, or the toiling of a bell, right next to his ear, to rouse him. So much so, that when trouble came into the house of Torniel, it might be some time until he was aware...

@Arnyn
Gladhron frowned as he followed Gwestion, and noticed the limp. On his right leg. "What happened to you?" He half-asked, half-demanded.

Gwestion glanced at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Are you telling me you don't remember?" He inquired, turning to face him. Perhaps that would be a good way to test whether Gladhron was... Gladhron. He folded his arms and waited.

Gladhron was puzzled. He stared at his brother, thinking. The only thing he could think of to explain the limp, was something he should have been healed of years ago... but if something new had happened, he sure didn't remember hearing about it. "Have you been to see Seri?" he asked, deciding on a different approach.

A faint twitch at the corner of Gwestion's mouth hinted at amusement, but he didn't smile. "Of course. But you haven't answered my question." He reminded him.

Gladhron sighed, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. "Well, let's see. You were not limping last time I saw you, and now you are... so, no? How am I supposed to remember something that obviously happened when I was not around?"

"Are you sure?" Gwestion peered more closely at him. "How much do you actually remember about.. last night?" He wondered.

"Last night?" Gladhron gave him a questioning glance, thinking back. The awful dizziness, the headache, the sickness in his stomach, the feeling that something was wrong but not knowing what... all that flashed through his mind. As well as the talk with Celume about her self-poisoning, and how he thought she should lower the dose, and all that.

He mentioned none of that to his brother, and shrugged slightly. "Some." He tilted his head. "Why? I kind of remember you and Tercen being here." He mentioned.

"Ahh, you do remember that, do you?" Gwestion nodded in some satisfaction. "And was that you, the imposter, or my real brother?" He wondered, as if going along with Gladhron's joke.

He gave a little scoff of amusement. "Oh right, that was him. That's why the memory's a big fuzzy for me. I took it from him, but not before I'd knocked him on the head, you know. Knocked him right out." He joked.

Gwestion stared at him with a little frown. He was... troubled by the thought that he had no idea if Gladhron was carrying a joke a bit too far, or if this could really be an imposter who really had done those things. After the seed of worry that Dom had planted in his mind last night, either option seemed entirely plausible. He took a slow breath, trying to think of how he could test this without coming right out with it, which might alert an actual imposter to the fact that someone was onto him. Or, it might just make Gladhron think he was nuts. The problem was, he had just claimed to have memories from Gladhron. Of coures, if this really was an imposter, he was being rather brazen about it.. and Gwestion found that he couldn't think of any way to make certain. But maybe one thing would help? Without warning, he switched to their 'secret language', which was a blend of the three languages they knew, spoken so intermingled that it could only really be understood by someone who knew all three languages very well, and even then, they might have difficulty making sense of it. "I know you think you're having fun, but I'd like to talk to my brother. The real one, if I may?"

Gladhron paused, surprised to hear him slip into the mingled languages they had used as a 'secret language', as children. But he responded without thinking, "Sorry, that's out of the question," He rolled his eyes. "He's out cold, but don't worry. I'm just as good a brother as he ever was.."

"Gladhron, will you please not joke about this?" Gwestion couldn't help but retort, at last. "It isn't funny!" He exclaimed in a hushed tone, not wanting to let his voice carry into the kitchen.

Gladhron blinked and stared at him in bafflement. "Alriiight," He answered, wondering what was up with Gwestion. "I mean, you know I'm just teasing you, right?

"That's just..." Gwestion stopped himself, then took a slow breath. It had to be Gladhron, right? An imposter wouldn't be able to pick up languages like that.. would they? "You are always teasing," He acknowledged, although it may have sounded more like a complaint. "But that particular joke is not... well, I don't find it amusing." He turned to look out of the window, frowning slightly.

"Right.. sorry..?" Gladhron watched his brother, puzzled. Then again, Gwestion often didn't find his teasing very amusing, but still... this seemed a bit odd, even for him. "What's with the secret language, anyway?" He wondered next.

Gwestion sighed, shaking his head slightly. He wasn't really sure how to proceed from here. "There is something we should talk about, but I don't think this is the best place for it." He tried to explain, glancing around.

"Wait," Gladhron frowned as he noticed the way his brother glanced around Arnyn's house. He stepped closer. "You seriously aren't trying to say that we shouldn't trust Celume?" He asked, stunned by the possibility Gwestion might say such a thing. After all the time they'd spent together in the North... surely, he'd gotten over that instinctual mistrust by now! "Gwestion, she's our friend!" He reminded him in a whisper.

"Yes... but is she really?" Gwestion asked, then swiftly added, "I mean, are you certain that she is Celume?" He whispered.

Gladhron stared at him in astonishment. "What..? Of course she is! Why would you even ask that?" He asked, wondering if Gwestion had absolutely lost his mind. "What's gotten into you, Gwestion?"

Gwestion cringed slightly and motioned for him to lower his voice. "Not here." He reminded him.

"Seriously, where did you get a crazy idea like that?" Gladhron demanded, though he did lower his voice a bit. "That is absolutely the most absurd-"

"Are you certain?" Gwestion insisted, cutting him off. "You've spent the most time with her lately," he pointed out with a raised eyebrow. He kept his voice lower. "She has been a bit... unlike herself, hasn't she?" He mentioned softly. "Last night, anyway... she was..." He trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe.

Gladhron blinked as it dawned on him what Gwestion was referring to. Oh. OH. He glanced away, feeling in a bit of an awkward place, suddenly. He could tell Gwestion what was really going on, and alleviate his concerns about that... but he had a strong feeling that Celume would really prefer he didn't tell anyone about her poison experiment. Which meant that he shouldn't tell Gwestion what she had confided to him. Yes... that was what she'd done, wasn't it? She had confided. He couldn't break that confidence, especially not with her. He let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face for a moment. "She is herself, Gwestion. I'm certain, and I can promise you that she's fine now, and there's no reason to suspect her of being anyone but herself. Trust me on that, please?"

Gwestion frowned as he noticed Gladhron's pause, just after something seemed to click in his mind. So... there was something he knew, and he just wasn't going to tell? That was... rather unlike Gladhron. He hesitated as his brother asked him to trust him. He gave a slow nod. "Alright." He agreed quietly. "I will trust you... and not ask any more about it." He agreed, guessing by his words and actions that he did not want to discuss the matter any further. "But what did she do to you, to make you wash dishes?" He had to know, finding that very baffling.

Gladhron rolled his eyes. "She threatened me with torture and death." He said jokingly.

Gwestion paused, frowning as he did not quite find that very funny, either. He sighed, then added, "Well... just so you know, I wasn't joking about the guards wanting you," He mentioned.

"I know, I know. They want my testimony," Gladhron rolled his eyes. “That’ll be real “interesting”… ‘I was asleep.’ Done.” He scoffed, shaking his head. "Ridiculous." He looked curiously at Gwestion. "What exactly happened, anyway? Celume mentioned some sort of altercation..."

Gwestion looked at him for a moment, and shook his head. "The guards have made it abundantly clear that they do not want me to tell you anything about it, which might alter your testimony." He explained. "It's best that you go as soon as you can. Because I can't talk to you about it until you do."

Gladhron sighed. "You know, Gwestion, it won't kill you to bend the rules a little, once in a while." He pointed out.

Gwestion looked downward, hiding a faint smile, and was glad that his back was currently facing away from Gladhron. "Perhaps not," He answered. "But do you really want to risk it?" He offered a faint smile then. "You'd better go take care of that report, you know. The sooner you go, the sooner we get it all behind us." He sighed. "And there are things we will need to discuss." He added.

"Right." Gladhron wasn't sure what to make of that. But he nodded. "I will, but give me a chance to talk to Celume, please?" he asked.

Gwestion refrained from sighing. "Alright. Meet me after you're done at the guards, please?" He asked, thinking for a moment before deciding on a meeting place. "Let's go for a ride. The horses haven't gotten to get out of their stalls all day." That would be an efficient use of their time, right?

"Alright, sounds good." Gladhron nodded, smiling slightly. "And then you can tell me what happened to your leg, while we're discussing these important things." He added with a raised eyebrow. As if Gwestion thought he could get by without telling him about that? Ha! If he'd done something dumb and hurt his old injury, Gladhron was going to be rather upset... not that he wasn't guilty of doing similar or worse things, but whatever. Then again, if he'd gotten hurt from, say, that altercation Celume had mentioned... he was going to be upset at whoever had hurt him. Big brother mode was activated in all the ways it could go, whether teasing relentlessly was required, or defense of a younger sibling.

"Maybe," Gwestion answered noncommittally. "We'll see. I'll be waiting near the main gates, around.. three-thirty." He suggested. That should give him plenty of time to get the report done, right? He hoped so. With a little wave, he set off for the door. Well... he now felt that it was very unlikely that Gladhron had been substituted for a fake... but next, he had to figure out whether any sort of weird spell had been put on him. Which he felt he could not do as well while they were standing there in Arnyn's house, near her. If she was the source of such a spell, he first needed to get Gladhron away from her and her house, right? Then, he just had to figure out how to confirm it one way or another... "Tell the ladies I said goodbye." He added, waving before leaving the house.

"Sure." Gladhron watched him go, then looked toward the kitchen, wondering if they were done talking yet. In case they weren't, he didn't want to interrupt. So he sat down on the couch and waited.

@Rillewen
When they stepped out of the kitchen, the lack of voices was telling enough. Gladhron was sitting down, but Arnyn did not see Gwestion nearby. Kaylin's head turned this way and that, making it obvious she was looking for him. Arnyn was subtle to the extent of not seeming to search for him at all.

"Where's your brother?" Kaylin asked Gladhron, a little incredulous. He'd just gotten here!

Arnyn, wondering about that herself, silently raised an eyebrow. It soon descended, however, as she realized the most plausible reason Gwestion had already left. He would have spoken to Domanol, and clearly that conversation had had its effects. Her heart sank as she was firmly reminded of the entirely different aftereffects she would suffer. Effects that had nothing to do with belladonna. She withdrew into herself, once again raising the steel she was so used to.

This was to be expected. But then why was Gladhron still here?

"I assume Gwestion wants to speak with you elsewhere," Arnyn answered in Gladhron's stead. Her voice was cool, detached.

Kaylin frowned a little, missing why, as her eyes slowly flicked between the two others.

The window’s only offer was of a vast grey sky, above ancient stone walls, with nary even a bird to be seen against the bleak horizon. Isys found that her eyes were thus drawn ever to the painting, one of many oceanic scenes which she had festooned about the house. Her Uncle having been a painter before he had ever tried to be a Lord, there were endless sources of his work to be exhibited. The sample in the study was but a small frame of colour, contrasting starkly with the dark mahogany wall panels. It recalled though, ever, home. For there was not a window at Castle Azrubêl as did not gaze out upon the great blue.

The massive desk served as no real tempting alternative, it’s entire surface hid by haphazard piles of paperwork which had tended to tumble into one another. The lady lifted one piece of parchment in one hand, even as she perused the contents of a separate scroll, each matter stealing her attention until (hopefully) there would be none remaining to manage. This morning had begun with such promise. No summons or immediate business to be found on the Ranger Noticeboard at HQ, she had then ridden Estera down to and about the Training grounds to rouse them both, before returning and tending to the mare back at the stables. A brief diversion to the barracks dining hall had served reminder to Unalmis where and when to meet her later. But she had not loitered to eat there. Taking her turn at scheduled kitchen duties had inspired the lady to beg her housekeeper for culinary instruction, in private. But eating at that public canteen ? Lotte would never have forgiven the slight, now that she had her girl back home.


Ever since the fire which had ravaged the barracks, Isys had done her best to ease the crowding in the cramped, surviving quarters by moving back into her city house. She had made the offer to the Captain, at that time, that her home was open to any other female rangers who had found their lodgings devastated and did not have their own alternative rooms. None had ever taken up the invitation, although the house had received it’s fair share of guests from out of town, in the last month alone. With the breaking of her night’s fast already a swift fading memory, the Ehtyar feasted upon all that required notice before she went out of town herself. The days were drawing ever closer to that deadline, and there was so much to attend to that she wondered how it had ever all been accomplished when she had lodged at the Barracks.

There was news from home to review, although it transpired no update from Warder on the malingering court case out in Dol Amroth, which was hanging over several of the household’s inhabitants. The neat lettering of her mother’s proficient reports fought for accuracy with the paper-thin and flowery scrawl of Sirdis; each venturing their opinion and ‘expertise’ on the subject of plans to purchase a ship for Emeredir’s next birthday. The many accounts and invoices that made up household (particularly Kitchen) supplies, tailors, carriage hire, a small set of employment and other payment records, all took their turn; not to mention scribbled notes from the lady’s most recent meetings with each of her small staff. Suggestions, requests and concerns, all to be considered and if necessary implemented. Training progress accounts and ideas spidered over late-night contemplations which were scarcely legible come dawn. Sponsorship specifics for a certain musical tribute were still undergoing research and work behind the scenes was only breeding further reams. Progress on her business here in the marketplace was still confusing more of the locals than it was assisting with it’s unusual trade. Preparations for the pending trip with Unalmis into Harlond, calling for revised details for their latest expected houseguest who would return with them after. Invitations to local events, and seasonal parties, all clamouring for a reply. For the most part then, quite mundane matters, but when presented in such a volume .. a task to be reckoned with !


Isys had been cloistered away for several hours, that an arrival sounding at her door downstairs never even caught her notice. It was not as though she had been schooled to answer her own door, after all. Though it was by that time nearly the first bell after noon, and so when Claery ducked her head into the study, the prospect of company awaiting meant she ought really to offer proper refreshments. Word was sent for Lotte to see what they had in way of luncheon, and for the maid to return with drinks to the parlour. There, one floor down from her labours, the lady of the house found Domanol offering his aid to Gildolen about lighting the hearth.

@Arnyn
He didn't have to wait long. As they both emerged from the kitchen, Gladhron smiled at them. Kaylin wasted no time in asking where Gwestion was. Before he could answer, Arnyn guessed that he wanted to speak with him elsewhere. Gladhron blinked, wondering why she would've jumped to that conclusion. "Well, he mentioned something about talking to me later," he shrugged. "But I don't think it's anything important." He refrained from asking Arnyn why she would assume that.

Instead, he focused on answering Kaylin's question. "He had something to do, for the moment. He really only dropped by to let me know I was supposed to go tell the guards something." He explained, rolling his eyes. "But then he said he isn't actually supposed to talk to me before I talk to them, so he had to leave before they got all in a huff or something, and I guess he figures the same applies to Arnyn," He paused, tilting his head as he tried to work out whether she was also supposed to do a report, or if she'd already done it... and if so, was Gwestion allowed to talk to her? Or... no, this was too confusing.

He shook his head slightly as if to dispel the confusing thoughts. "Whatever.. anyway, I should go do that soon, I guess, but I thought it might be rude to leave without saying anything," He added with a little nod toward Arnyn. "Sorry for Gwestion. You know how he is... he's not very good with people." He shrugged. "And he seems to be in a weird mood today, on top of that." he frowned as he thought of the other thing. "By the way, did he mention anything to you about how he hurt himself?" He added, looking at Kaylin for that. She seemed like the sort of person who might have asked, and he didn't know how long they'd been talking together before knocking on Arnyn's door.

@Rillewen
Arnyn gave a sharp nod when Gladhron confirmed Gwestion wanted to talk to Gladhron later. So Gwestion had not yet mentioned anything that would want to send Gladhron running, then. That explained it. Her eyes wandered when Gladhron added it hadn't sounded important. He'd be able to decide that for himself, later.

She didn't refocus her gaze when he mentioned the Guard - she merely nodded again, briefly, silently. That did sound like Gwestion - but Gwestion would assume she had already spoken to the Guard, since she had already been there, so Gladhron's idea that the same applied to her, sounded very unlikely to Arnyn. No - Gwestion would have a very different reason not to want to say more to her than he absolutely had to. Even if he had not seemed upset with her at the door... She frowned. That did not entirely add up.

Kaylin was still slowly looking between the two of them. Something was going on, all of a sudden. With Arnyn, if Kaylin was reading it right. The Lieutenant had fallen completely silent. It was too sharp a contrast with their entrance and the brief conversation in the kitchen for Kaylin not to notice. When Arnyn didn't immediately reply to Gladhron's apology in his brother's name, Kaylin was almost glad the guy asked her something. At least that saved the moment from becoming entirely awkward.

"Yes," she therefore said eagerly. "His foot get caught behind one of the cobblestones," she recalled. "He tripped and fell wrong, or something. He already went to the Houses of Healing to get it looked at and should be fine in a few days or so." She tilted her head, wondering why either Gladhron had not asked, or why Gwestion had not wanted to reply. But... she supposed she did not really know them well enough to poke at them for that.

After another brief moment of silence, Kaylin decided she did not feel like staying at Arnyn's - not with the mood Arnyn had seemingly fallen into. She'd best get out of here. She'd delivered on her promise, and she'd come upon an interesting scene. Both good things. "Well," she therefore declared, her merry tone breaking the silence. "I'll see you later," she told Arnyn. "Unless there is anything else...?"

Arnyn shook her head. "No, thank you, Kaylin."

"Great." Kaylin raised a hand in Gladhron's direction. "Bye, then." Already on her way to the door, she noticed Arnyn following her.

Arnyn moved to the door Kaylin had stepped through, bidding her a brief goodbye before closing the door behind her. She lingered a moment, then slowly returned to where she'd left Gladhron.

@Arnyn
Gladhron also noticed how quiet Arnyn had become, and he was puzzled by it. He wondered whether it might have anything to do with whatever she and Kaylin had talked about. But, since he hadn't been allowed in the room to hear it, he had no idea what that could have been.

He was glad, however, to get an answer from Kaylin about the injury. He blinked. "Wait. So... he tripped?" He asked, unsure whether to be amused or concerned. He ended up allowing himself a mixture of both. "And he couldn't just tell me that?" He shook his head and gave a little laugh. "He gave me some vague, runabout answer." He explained, rolling his eyes.

Soon, Kaylin deemed it time for her to leave. Gladhron waved, smiling. "Bye Kaylin. See you around." He waited while Arnyn walked her to the door, and grew thoughtful once he was alone in the living room for a moment. What was going on with Arnyn? She had seemed alright before Kaylin arrived. She had seemed alright when she asked to talk to Kaylin in private. She had not seemed alright when they both emerged. So, what happened?

While he knew he should be going soon, he didn't want to leave without trying to ensure that she was feeling better again. She had just been starting to seem happier again, and now this!

When she returned, Gladhron looked up and offered a little smile at her. "So, did that go well? Whatever you and Kaylin had to talk about?" He wasn't. going to ask what it was about, of course. But he could at least find out if it might be the cause for her seeming to be upset.

@Rillewen
Upon her return to her living room, her gaze moved slowly, and Arnyn only looked at her friend when the sound of the second of his questions had died away completely. Had it gone well? Arnyn had no idea what to say in reply to that question. Kaylin had handed her poison - would Gladhron define that as a good thing? And they had spoken about him, more than they had spoken about the nightshade. Which felt... bizarre. Since when was she discussing men with a friend?

"Well enough," she acknowledged, in the end. "Kaylin came through on a request of mine. She found your overnight presence interesting." The words had left her lips before she well and good knew it. But Arnyn had never been skilled at lies. At omission, perhaps - but even that was proving difficult when facing a close friend.

Seeking to redirect the conversation a little, she offered Gladhron one of her faint smiles. "Did you know you're a really great houseguest?" She hadn't really had the opportunity to thank him for washing their cups, earlier. Kaylin had taken over the scene almost immediately.

@Lantaelen
Torniel had awoken a whil ago, enjoying the way she'd settled into the crook between his body and his arm. The knight had allowed her to sleep thus, her head resting upon him. If it was uncomfortable for him, he surely did not show it. He was as fast asleep as she would expct from a man who'd been drugged.

Perhaps he had been, part of her mind mused, with some satisfaction. Perhaps she might consider herself the drug.

Once more, concern nipped at her. If the Hand found out about this man - about what the two of them had been doing - he would not be kind. Not at all. Not to Abrazimir. Not to her. But it would be the charming and gallant man whose breaths she could now hear, who would suffer the most. It would be better for him, safer - if she disappeared. If she sent him walking. If she never met with him again.

But Torniel was obviously nowhere near a perfect woman. Besides Urion, this was the only time she had known genuine care and affection, unwarped by hidden agenda's, grabs for power or simple lust for what her body could offer. As a finger played with one of the knight's curls, she knew she was too... deprived of such things. To let him go. She was too... selfish. To deny this to herself.

The tiny bell, so close to her pillow, chimed softly. Her heart skipped a beat, to thump thrice as fast as it had been before. Like a snake, silent and slithering, she slipped away from Abrazimir. To recover the two duelling knives strapped just underneath her the side of the bed. There was no time to change into anything else than the flimsy nightdress she was wearing, which did not serve to warm her, but rather anyone who set eyes upon her. Torniel moved to the window, took up position, and hardly had to wait before the window was opened, with such deft hands that the room breathed in the silence which had settled over it ever since the soft chiming of her warning system.

She couldn't believe this. Of all the nights...

One of her blades was upon his throat the moment he set a foot down on the floorboards of the bedroom. Torniel moved behind him, her other blade pricking into his back. "What's this?" she hissed into his ear.

Lorcan froze, and it took him a moment to realize who it was who was standing beside him. But he could see the hand holding the knife at his throat, he could smell her scent. "Jade?" he breathed.

He was clearly surprised. He'd had no idea this place was hers. "Why are you here?" she asked him, keeping her voice quiet enough not to disturb the man in her bed from his sleep. "You need to leave."

The assassin frowned. "Let go of me," he whispered back, annoyed. "I'm here for him. He's in the books."

Torniel blinked. "He's mine," she countered.

"In what way?" Lorcan asked slyly. "If you wanted him dead, your bed would have been filled with blood by now. Instead... he sleeps." It was spoken with no small amount of disdain. "Unless it's true that you actually enjoy playing around like this."

"Go to hell, Lorcan," she snapped at him. She knew she would not let him kill Dauntless. And she also knew she could not let him leave this apartment.

But the fraction of time it took for her to decide to draw the knife clean across his throat, was all the time the assassin needed to make his own move against her. Torniel was trained, but so was Lorcan - and he spent much more time every day honing the skillset that brought him most his money and his standing with the Hand. Both their movements were fast, blades flashed in the light of the moon spilling in through the now open window, and the flame of the single candle left burning on the bedstand on Abrazimir's side. Steel hit steel.

A blade cut through the skin of an arm. His blade. Her arm. Torniel bit back a groan, renewing her efforts, pushing herself harder. But she felt like he was playing with her. Seeing how fast she could be, how far her skills truly reached.

"Impressive," he breathed, letting out a low laugh. "But not enough," he determined, before he violently slammed his fist into her jaw, knocking her away from him and into the wall. One of her knives slipped from her hand. Her head swam, her vision alternating between white and black.

@Arnyn
Gladhron watched her as she responded to him, noticing the slight pause as she seemed to be considering how to answer. And the way her gaze moved so slowly. Was that some after-effect of the poison? Or something else? He wondered, since he had so little experience with such things, and he couldn't be sure. But she answered his question, eventually. He nodded, not prying into whatever this ‘request’ may have been, although he inwardly flinched to hear it.

Before addressing that, however, he smiled slightly in surprise at her compliment about him being a great houseguest. “Really? Well, I’m glad to hear you say it. Most people would disagree, though.” He laughed. “Gwestion would certainly think I’d been replaced if he’d heard you say that.” He added with another little laugh.

“Well, I can only speak for your behaviour here,” she acknowledged with a slow nod, while thinking about what he’d just said about most people disagreeing with her on that. While debating whether or not to ask about why that was. Was he acting so differently, here? And if so, why? She’d thought doing the dishes was a new thing he may have picked up the past few years, but based on what he was saying now… And after what Kaylin had just asked her… She wanted to ask if he wouldn’t do the dishes at a different friend’s house. She wanted to ask why he would do dishes here, now - when she was used to him avoiding them at all costs, back then.

Gladhron nodded slightly. After a brief pause, he added, “So... um, I’m sorry if my staying overnight causes any troubles for you,” He told her, feeling slightly awkward to think about how it must look to others, like Kaylin. “I certainly didn’t intend to have your friends and neighbors whispering and spreading rumors about you having a guy stay at your house overnight… I hope your reputation doesn't suffer on account of it.” In fact, it was bad enough that both of their brothers had learned that he’d stayed the night here. He really hoped that this wouldn’t end up looking badly on her for any reason. He cleared his throat softly. “And... that’s probably also my cue to leave, I guess.” He realized. “I do still have to give that silly testimony to the guards.” He acknowledged, rolling his eyes.

Instead, however, she figured that she had better react to what he said about people whispering about the situation. “My friends might try and tease me about it,” Arnyn allowed, “but people would be more likely to comment something along the lines of ‘finally’, I imagine. When it comes to men, my reputation is a dull book to read,” she explained briefly. “So I am not worried.”

Hearing this, Gladhron couldn’t help feeling… somewhat relieved that there was not any competition. And at the same time, a little baffled that she didn’t have a ton of men after her. He started to open his mouth to say something, but then she continued, so he kept quiet, instead.

“What I should probably mention, though…” Arnyn gave Gladhron a slightly apologetic look. “Both Tercen and Gwestion were also rather interested in your presence, when they arrived upon my doorstep in the middle of the night, and you opened the door. It went mostly over your head last night, because you were asleep at first and obviously the nightshade wouldn’t have helped once you woke up. But Tercen immediately started fishing when I came downstairs. It… mildly amused me to keep him guessing. When Tercen tried again, after they told me about what had happened between Gwandhyra and Ava, I was still giving him nothing - but then you…” Arnyn shook her head. “You woke up, and you were so sleepy, or dazed - that you said something about wanting to go back to sleep, but somehow it sounded like we’d been in bed together. I felt like teasing my brother right back, by leaning into it, rather than setting the record straight. So, you might want to take that into account when you meet with your brother. I have no clue what he might be thinking, after that.” She crossed her arms, the officer seeping into her stance. “As far as I am concerned, they can all think as they like. It is none of their business.”

Gladhron blinked, processing all that she’d just said, with a little warmth rising to his face, which he hoped she didn’t notice. Tercen… and Gwestion, thinking… that? He really was not sure what to think about it. Actually, he realized it was more surprising that she didn’t care what they thought, since most of his concern had been about not embarrassing her, or causing rumors to spread about her. “Well,” He said at last, with a small laugh. A very slightly awkward one. “I.. do not remember any of that,” He admitted, running a hand over his face. As if that might prevent any redness from showing. “I… sort of remember them being there, but I think my head was a bit muddled. At the time, I thought I was just still half-asleep, but…” He trailed off. She knew what it really had been. There was no need for him to bring it up.

“So, they both probably think that we…” He trailed off, wondering if Tercen would think he had reason to be upset at Gladhron. Because if they had been together, that might seem a bit too fast, since it was only a few days ago he was asking advice on how to get her to be interested in him…

Then there was his own brother, who also knew how he felt about Arnyn. He wondered what Gwestion would think about that, but then he figured, what did it really matter what Gwestion thought? He shook his head with a little smile, deciding that her joke on their brothers was nothing to worry about, if she was not worried. Even though she apparently did not know.. how he felt toward her. Somehow.

He cleared his throat slightly as he decided that it was probably alright. “Alright, yes. Thank you… I will take that into account when I talk to Gwestion, and Tercen.” He nodded, wondering how much of that had to do with Gwestion’s inquiries, today. He took a moment then, thinking about that before deciding to mention it to her. Because, while Gwestion probably wouldn’t want her to know, Gladhron thought perhaps she ought to know. Plus, that would make it easier for him to find out what she wanted him to do about it. “Speaking of Gwestion, you’ll never believe what he asked me.” He told her with a little grin of amusement. “I didn’t want to mention it while Kaylin was here, but, now that she’s gone…”

@Rillewen
Did he look and sound a little awkward? “That’s alright,” she said quietly, when Gladhron admitted he didn’t remember much of what had been said during the night. She understood. Obviously. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “It was mostly Tercen who seemed like he wanted to know. It triggered my inner rebel, I suppose. But I did not mean to embarrass you by not denying anything. You can set the record straight, of course, when you speak with either of them.”

“Embarrassed?” He repeated, then paused, trying to decide if that was how he felt. No, that wasn’t quite it. “No, I.. wouldn’t say that.” He shook his head, not sure how to explain. It was difficult, and he thought his awkwardness was mainly because she did not seem to realize his feelings toward her. “I’m.. just not sure how your brother will.. um, feel toward me, I guess. I wouldn’t want to lose a friend over a misunderstanding, you know?” He explained, trying to cover the real reason for his awkwardness.

Arnyn let out a huff of air. “He could hardly fault you, even if it were true - he has bedded women after knowing them for a much shorter time span, believe me.” She shrugged. “Besides. It is not true. Nor did I claim that it was true. Not literally.”

He scratched his head slightly, trying to figure out a way away from this topic, because it made him uncomfortable and he didn’t know how to discuss something like this.

She tilted her head, then. “What did you mean, earlier. What did Gwestion ask?”

Gladhron breathed a little easier when she returned to the other topic, sparing him from further awkwardness. “Oh, right.” He gave a little laugh, and hoped she would find this as silly and absurd as he had. “He actually asked me if I was sure that you… are you.” He rolled his eyes at how ridiculous it sounded.

She blinked. “What?” Then frowned. “Well, I mean… there is only one reason I can think of that he would ask that,” Arnyn said thoughtfully, “because of what happened this summer.” She gestured toward the side of her neck where the wolf scars were. “But it still seems like a strange question to come now, after we’ve already seen each other several times.” A little frown settled on her face. “Why would he ask that only now?” Had her behaviour been so bizarre? Her frown deepened, as she thought about falling asleep at the theatre. And probably not looking her best in the night. But why on earth would that be reason enough to ask a question like that? It didn’t make much sense to her, Gwestion being, well - Gwestion. Even after speaking to someone like Domanol, who came across as more of a paranoid individual, it seemed out of character for Gladhron’s brother to be so easily influenced by another. If that was even what had happened.

“Well, yes, we all heard about that…” He shrugged, recalling them talking about the giant wolf thing when she’d joined them for dinner at the inn that night. “In fact, you told us about it.” He reminded her. “But, you also assured us that it was all in the past, and that you’d dealt with the shapeshifter.” He shrugged as he considered why his brother might have been asking such a thing. “I don’t know, I can only assume it has something to do with the way you were, last night?” He guessed. Which brought him to the reason why he’d brought it up. “So… I told him that it was absurd, and I assured him you are yourself. But.. I am wondering, what should I tell him if he asks about that again? I mean…” He hesitated. “I assume you didn’t want him to know about the poison thing..?” He glanced at her questioningly. “But then, at the same time… if he’s asking questions like that...”

Her crossed arms tightened. “Yes, I dealt with her,” she half-mumbled. Her eyes were wary as she looked at Gladhron. “Well. I was not exactly at my best, was I?” she asked ironically. “But how would that be reason enough to suddenly question my identity? And especially - someone like Gwestion? I know he is careful by nature, but…” Arnyn looked away. Supposing that she was not entitled to a bad moment. “Expectations indeed,” she commented drily, her tone more quiet, but still audible.

Gladhron shrugged. “I have no idea,” He answered. “He can be kind of weird, though, so.. who knows?” He sighed as he thought of how to make sense of how his brother thought at times.

“I don’t see why I should agree to tell him something I do not want to, simply because he is drawing mad conclusions,” she finally answered Gladhron, a hint of defiance to her voice. Especially since odds were both brothers would - at the very least - be displeased with her after they’d spoken to Domanol. She didn’t feel like they would take some sort of revenge by reporting on her, but she didn’t need so much as the slightest chance of anything like that.

That confirmed his suspicion, at least; that she did not want him telling Gwestion about it. He nodded slowly. “Right. Well… I had a feeling you wouldn’t want me telling anyone.” He answered, although he was halfway wondering if it wouldn’t be best if Gwestion did know, at least, by the time she joined them in Umbar. But he would respect her wishes in this, regardless. “Anyway, that seems to be the only thing he wanted to ask me about.” He added, confused. “I’m not-”

“He wanted to talk to you about whether I was myself?” she asked, incredulous. It made sense Gwestion wanted to talk to Gladhron about her - since he would have spoken to Domanol. But about whether she was really her?

Gladhron paused, then nodded. “He even switched into our.. well, ‘coded’ language,” He said, puzzled. “He wants me to join him for a ride later, and I figure he’ll probably… hopefully..? explain something more about this then. But, I figured you should know…” He paused to think how to finish that sentence. “Well, that he’s apparently gotten some wild notion like this.” He was quite confused, and had no idea where something like that might have come from.

Arnyn didn’t bother hiding her displeasure at this. She saw no reason to, with Gladhron. “Great,” she mumbled sarcastically. This was just what she needed: someone who might be going on a mission for the rangers, to start doubting who the Lieutenant was. And then she wasn’t even considering the fact Gwestion was her friend. Because that last part would be on shaky grounds anyway, she figured. “That he wants to talk to you about me is not surprising after last night,” she told Gladhron. “But doubting whether I’m truly me? That seems extreme.” Holding back a sigh, Arnyn then examined Gladhron’s expression. “That does not put you in a particularly easy position, however.”

Gladhron gave a slow nod. “Right… why is that not surprising?” He wondered, before adding what he hoped would console her; “At least, when I assured him you are definitely yourself, he seemed to accept it.” He shrugged. It was still very strange. After reflecting on it all for a moment, he frowned. “Come to think of it…” He paused to think back a little more carefully about his conversation with Gwestion before he spoke again. “I’m not sure. Maybe I’m just crazy, but… there for a moment, he almost seemed like he was trying to check if I was myself…” He frowned in puzzlement at this.

Even through her displeasure, one corner of her mouth lifted minutely. “Well. He did see you doing dishes.”

Gladhron laughed. “True. And I did joke..” He stopped as realization hit him. “Oh... I joked about having been replaced.” He frowned as he wondered what could have possibly made Gwestion think something like that. He sighed. “He did not find that joke very funny, and he told me so with much annoyance.”

That Gwestion would think his brother had been replaced, all of a sudden, was even more bizarre. And at the same time that Arnyn supposedly was, too? That would require two shape shifters!

Be that as it may, however… “From what you are telling me, he sounds genuinely concerned. For whatever bizarre reason he may have. Perhaps do not joke about it, when you meet him later,” she suggested. “And if he wants to know what is going on with me, you can tell him that he should ask me in person. Or accept not knowing anything at all. He probably will have to accept that anyway, even if he does ask me directly.”

Arnyn assessed Gladhron. “I would hope that–” she halted the sentence, reconsidering how to phrase it. “Maybe someone spoke to Gwestion and cast doubts in his mind. He spoke with you, but not with me. Which makes me think there is much more going on in that mind of his, than he was willing to let on just now. Last night, he was not avoiding me. And now, he is. Someone must have spoken to him about me. Odds are he will tell you what that was about, when you meet with him later.”

She paused. “If someone wanted to cast a friend of mine in a bad light, I would go speak with that friend directly. Instead of avoiding them. I would hope my own friends give me the same courtesy.”

@Arnyn
“Avoiding you?” He asked, surprised. “Did he? I didn't think he was avoiding you…” he frowned as he tried to think back to his brother’s behavior. “That doesn't sound like him. But I can definitely see him trying to decide for himself, by observing you or something, trying to be all.. secretive about it instead of directly confronting you." He rolled his eyes. "But as for where he even got the idea that we weren’t ourselves…” Gladhron paused, before adding jokingly, “I dunno, maybe he's the one who's not himself?”

At that, she uncrossed her arms. She saw no point in debating the matter. Or in entertaining Gladhron’s little joke. “I’m sure the Guard will appreciate you not waiting much longer before you go in. As brief as your testimony is bound to be,” she went on relentlessly, not wanting to linger on the possibility that neither brother would want to maintain a friendship with her anymore. It was probably best to steer Gladhron out the door sooner rather than later.

“Right... the report.” He sighed at the whole absurdity of having to go to the guard’s headquarters, just to tell them that he didn’t know anything. But he also recognized that she was nudging him to go.

“We will also need to meet, later,” she reminded him. “Ava, Tercen, your brother, you, me, possibly the Captain. To discuss what comes next. One way or another.”

Guessing that would have something to do with what happened last night, and whatever she would be discussing with the king later, Gladhron nodded. “Well, you know where to find me and Gwestion, so.. whenever you want to meet, you can send a message to Lady Azrubel’s house.” He answered. “And I'll talk to Gwestion, and see if I can figure out what's going on with him.”

Arnyn nodded. She hoped Gladhron would remember her words. Not that she had much of a defense, really, against the blame Domanol was likely to lay at her feet. Then again, she could not really know whether the older man was the sort of fellow to talk of such things, but Gwestion and Gladhron were his friends. Friends who had gotten to know Seri, Brooke and Aislin well.

Would Gladhron ever just be like… this… around her, again? Would Gwestion? Arnyn had no clue. Even though they had grown close during their time spent together in the North, it had not been long enough of a time to be able to predict their response to a situation like this.

“Alright,” she agreed, her eyes roaming the wall off to the side behind Gladhron. She wasn’t sure if she could look at him while contemplating what might be the end of their friendship.

He paused then, stepping nearer to her. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, concerned again by how she seemed… off. Or distracted. Or, something he couldn’t put his finger on…

“Are you just nervous about meeting with the king?” He guessed, hoping that was all it was. Since she had seemed very sure that she was going to be summoned, and also said she intended to talk to him regardless.

@Rillewen
Arnyn had been about to say she only felt tired at this point - but no longer exhausted or drained, or suffering from the more annoying nightshade symptoms, but he immediately followed up by asking her if she was just nervous. About her meeting with the king. She was nervous, she realized. However, not only about what Aragorn would think of her.

She hesitated for a heartbeat or two. The genuine answer would be ‘no’, because there was more at play here than the King’s trust in her. “Nervous, yes,” she replied, not wanting to straight-out lie to him, giving an affirmation that he might interpret as a full confirmation of her question, although all she had really stated was that she was nervous, and not why.

Gladhron nodded in understanding as he reached out to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure there’s nothing to be nervous about,” He told her confidently, smiling slightly, although he didn’t even know half of the issues that would be brought up, and none of what was going on inside her head. “You’re probably the most prepared and detail-oriented person I know, even more than Gwestion. And from all that you’ve told us about this mission, you’ve put a lot of planning into this thing.” He was pretty sure that if he’d had to put together a mission like this, he’d be at a complete loss for where to even begin with planning. But then, planning was not his strong suit, as he would be the first to admit. “Anyway, I’m sure the meeting will go well.” He assured her, recalling how much work she’d put into it all, and how well she knew the details about the mission she’d been planning. “You’ve got this, Celume.” He concluded with a smile. Regardless of what a strong and confident person she was, he also recalled some of what she’d said last night, in the room of drawings, which had suggested a lack of confidence or something. He hoped to fix that.

Her eyes briefly flicked to his hand on her shoulder, before uncomfortably settling on his face. None of his words hit home. Her chest tightened. Prepared? Detail-oriented? Those were skills she’d thought she’d possessed, yes. But after what had been pointed out to her, how could she still believe such things about herself? No, she thought, I don’t have this. Not this time. Not anymore. Gladhron didn’t know, of course. He couldn’t know. What little she had let escape during the night, had probably mostly been forgotten. All he was going on was what little she had said about it this morning. He could not know that her every step into the Citadel would feel like a test. The truth clawed against her mental walls, looking for an escape. She wanted to tell him she was walking into a room where her king, who had previously trusted her, might now turn his ear away. Might turn her away. She wanted to tell him that he and his brother might be doing the very same thing, soon enough.

But that would make it all too real, much too soon. She’d take every moment she could, before that happened. Every small delay. Every minute before she would have to hear the words.

She drew in a steadying breath and gave him the smallest of smiles - one that tilted her lips up but never reached her eyes. “Right,” she agreed, as if she were humouring him. As though it were nothing more than the ‘typical’ nerves one might expect of anyone who was to have an audience with King Elessar of the Reunited Kingdom. “I’ve got this.” But the words felt empty.

Arnyn did not feel strong or confident. At all. Not even with Gladhron looking at her like he believed every word he’d just said. Like she was someone worth believing in. In fact, that made her feel worse. He still believed it - the illusion. What would he say, once he saw through it? What would his expression, his eyes, say then? Would they mirror the anger, the disappointment, the disgust, all that she had seen in an altogether different set of eyes last night?

She did not shrug off his hand, but she didn’t reach for it, either. She simply stood there for a moment, before stepping back. Her voice was calm when she added: “You’d better get going. Or the Guard will come hunting for you, at this rate.”

@Arnyn
Gladhron nodded, unsure if his words had had the desired effect with her. She didn’t act like he’d made her feel any better, but he tried not to read too much into it. Still, something about her felt, or seemed, off. But maybe it was really just that she was nervous.

When she stepped back, he let his hand drop, then sighed as she reminded him about the guard. He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, Valar-forbid they miss out on that vital testimony.” He joked, shaking his head as he turned and grabbed up his bundle of stuff. “Well. See you later. And, thanks for letting me stay, by the way.” Even if it hadn’t turned out quite like he’d expected, he was grateful that she had allowed him to stay, and to take care of her when she was ill, and that she had listened to his concerns… and all of it. Even though he hadn’t enjoyed being accidentally poisoned, at least he felt better, knowing what was going on with her. And it set his mind at ease, knowing that she was going to lower her dosage, too.

She couldn’t bring herself to say anything like ‘you’re welcome’. As if getting poisoned were a good thing for him? So she simply nodded, with a polite half-smile, adding a quiet: “See you later.”

For a moment, he was half-tempted to pull her into a hug, as if some sense told him she needed a hug. But then again, she might also be uncomfortable with it. And besides, she had verbally nudged him to leave a couple of times now, and he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. So he refrained, and instead he smiled at her, waving as he turned to go. “Later,” he said in confirmation before going out the door.

The guard headquarters was only two levels down, so it wouldn’t take him very long to get there, and then he’d go to meet Gwestion and try to figure out what was going on with him. He figured it would only take a minute or two at the guard’s office to give his report, because he was, as yet, blissfully ignorant of the forms that were required with everything the guards did. He was already halfway to the next gate before he realized that he’d left his cloak on a peg in Arnyn’s hallway, but he was already too far gone to turn back and get it. Ah, well. He’d just have to go without it for a while, but that was alright. He could handle these temperatures; it wasn’t anywhere near as cold as where they were used to, after all.

@Rillewen
She caught the small moment he took, either in hesitation or thought, before he gave her a smile and a wave. And left.

Half a minute later, Arnyn was still staring at the door, now with a slight crease between her brows. Slowly, too dark eyes shifted to the pegs on the wall, above her shoe rack. There was one too many cloaks there. His cloak. The frown cleared, replaced by two lifted brows. Then the Lieutenant sighed and turned sharply. Toward the papers she had gathered on one corner of her kitchen table.

Finding there was nothing left to clean up before she could leave, Arnyn simply gathered her work, went upstairs to pull on another layer against the cold outside, and then slung her own cloak over her shoulders, taking a pack with the papers along with her.

There was more to be done. But she may as well do it at headquarters.

@Arnyn
The Knight was in such a deep and restful slumber of a kind he hadn’t known in over a decade and more. The bubble of warmth formed between their embraced bodies brought on a kind of solace and comfort that was indescribable, a sort of peace that was restorative to the scarred psyche of his mind and soul. To actually be free, from the memories and dark experiences of war and sorrow and trepidation for a future that concluded with the complete destruction of his people, his family and home, it was invaluable in more ways than one.

But one was never truly free from danger. And those who lived by the sword were always bound to attract resolutions and issues brought about the sword.

He knew not that Torniel was awake and alert in the middle of the night. He felt not her stirring or heard the warning bell. Not even the whisper of drawn blades from their hiding places. There was no changing in his breathing and even in the dark, his face still held that little smile of safety and happiness after such a wondrous evening. Secure in thinking no doubt that nothing could ever burst this little bubble. Harsh inquiries, blade upon flesh, secretive names, the slumbering Knight was blissfully ignorant of the conversations regarding him and his single and sole life in this Middle-Earth.

Then the ruckus began and Abrazimir’s consciousness was alert. Trained to react instantly against night time assaults by orcs and wicked men, the moment the trouble started his body was tense. But though his mind was awake, he remained…still a moment, eyes shut, completely in the dark, literally and figuratively. Dulled perhaps by drink, food, and company, Abrazimir was at first unsure if this was really happening. Here, now? In these days of peace, where the King had come again and the terrible foe vanquished forever? There was fighting, and harsh movement, and sounds of struggle, just paces away.

He should have reacted instantly. Where was Torniel? Engaged in this wicked knife fight in the dark? Why hadn’t she awoken him? Called for help? Instead, precious heartbeats of time were wasted as he pondered this confusion, before deciding…the best answer to riddles of violence was to attack first. Steel clashed with steel, both male and female groans and grunts and breathing resounding in the dark. That was the invite that finally pulled Abrazimir into the fight. He threw the remainder of the blanket off his body, shooting into an upright position, one naked foot on the ground, the other leg bent with the sole of his foot on the edge of the mattress, ready to spring. He had but a second to try and determine reality in the shadows and dark.

Two figures, one of which was Torniel’s, judging by the slender silhouette. Impressive the male said, but not enough. The other moved, swinging his arm, and struck his lover upon her face. Abrazimir could not see though that it was only a fist. He assumed the worst. A blade.

Abrazimir sprang, his hand just clutching the edge of the covers, he swung it out before him in prelude of his vault. Lorcan pivoted and stabbed at the shape, his blade cutting through the middle of the blanket, but the distraction was enough for Abrazimir to slam his shoulder into the attacker’s bulk, sending him back to crash into the far wall. Lorcan didn’t lose his posture for a moment, hitting the wall, immediately pushing through the pain and off the wall to come at his target in the dark. He had a knife. Abrazimir only had his trousers and a loose shirt, bare foot, no weapon.

But it was not his first vicious knife fight in the pitch dark. Years of fighting orcs in such environs had him ready and prepared. He moved forward to meet Lorcan’s drive, cutting into the man’s momentum. Lorcan stabbed, but Abrazimir swung as well, striking the inside of Lorcan’s wrist to shove the knife blow away from himself. Lorcan recovered and tried again, with Abrazimir, swiftly with his other hand, clutching Lorcan’s forearm this time. Lorcan countered by pulling his arm up and away, discomforting Abrazimir’s intrusive grip. Abrazimir reacted by using his other hand to grab Lorcan’s other arm, anticipating a change of knife hands or the direction of the assault.

Both men, grasping each other’s hands and forearms, began to yank, pull, and break free the grips the other hand, a harsh dance of air being rushed and displaced as they grappled in the dark. It was Lorcan though who threw both his hands up, pulling Abrazimir’s own upwards, exposing his torso, allowing the assassin to swiftly raise a knee and kick the knight harsh in the gut, driving him back and freeing his hands.

Lorcan, now freed, and Abrazimir reeled back, charged again for the finishing blow. Abrazimir though dropped himself to the floor entirely, landing on his back, hooking his arm around one of Lorcan’s legs, and tripped the man to slam face down into the floor. Abrazimir scrambled up and over towards Lorcan, who rolled over, getting his knife up to meet Abrazimir’s covering attempt. The knife found shirt and flesh, driving an inch deep between Abrazimir’s ribs, just a second too late for the knight to grab the knife hand and still it’s advance.

Lorcan, sensing his triumphant, used both his hands to push the knife handle up and into Abrazimir’s gut, who groaned in pain and yet growled in anger. But Abrazimir didn’t focus on the knife. He instead shifted, while the knife was sinking deeper and deeper, bringing his knee right upon Lorcan’s throat. Who would give first? Would the knife reach Abrazimir’s heart or would his knee break the assassin’s windpipe? Both men, frustrated and desperate, hissed and gasped and fought for supremacy. The pain was unbearable. Abrazimir shut his eyes, the knife piercing into his flesh, fighting through the sensation as he held his knee down furiously on Lorcan’s throat.

Then…something creaked and sickening broke. Lorcan’s grip laxed, then weakened and went limp, allowing Abrazimir to push the knife out of his gut. He held his knee ferociously on Lorcan’s throat just a moment longer, before he let up and rose. The assassin didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe, a contrast change from the hissing, rasping sounds they were making in the depths of the mortal struggle.

One hand shot to his abdomen, feeling the hot press of blood. Not a lot. It was just a small incision, yet a little bit more it would have been fatal. Abrazimir staggered to the wall, a hand finding it for anchorage, breathing hard a moment. ”Torniel…?” He asked, only thinking about how her injury from that earlier blow must be so much more egregious and terrible. Please, by the Valar, let her be alive…!

@Pele Alarion
The chamber doors closed with a muted finality.

Arnyn’s step did not falter, her posture straight as a drawn blade. Through the vaulted corridors of the Citadel she walked without haste, without visible weight. Each movement was marked by discipline. To the clerks and guards she looked no different, for she portrayed the usual cool precision of the Ranger Lieutenant leaving an audience with her King, the Captain by her side.

But inside, her thoughts pressed and tangled.

The King’s words clung to her: that everyone in command makes mistakes, sooner or later. That she had proven herself more times than he could count, and one or two missteps did not undo anything. That she was allowed the space to err. That the mission stood.

It had been meant as reassurance. She knew it. She knew his intent was to steady her. She knew he trusted her - she'd seen it in his eyes.

Yet to Arnyn, right now, it rang hollow. Dangerous, even. How could she countenance allowing mistakes, when Umbar left no margin for error? When a single misstep might mean lives lost, perhaps more than she could bear? How did she still deserve Pele's trust? Aragorn's? Any of the rangers'? When she couldn't even trust herself right now?

And thus. Rather than Aragorn's words feeling like reassurance, they felt like a blade twisted under her ribs. Allowed the space to err. As though anything excused what she had overlooked, what she had let slip? As though there were room for failure when lives could be lost in Umbar?

Arnyn had bowed her head, answered crisply, given every assurance in turn which had been required of her. Her words had been right. Her tone had been right. Even her hands, resting flat against the table’s edge, had been still, controlled. Only her pulse, drumming high in her throat, had made it impossible to fool herself that she felt any of it.

Now, the Lieutenant took each turn of the corridors with precision, her face a mask of composure. But her palms were damp inside her gloves. And she had no words to offer the friend by her side.

As the two women stepped into the bite of the winter air, Arnyn tugged her gloves tighter, hiding the smallest tremor of her fingers. The cold bit deep, clearing her lungs, but not her thoughts. She lifted her chin against the wind, against the weight of her own unrest.

Nelladel Alarion with Addhor Raxelilta
Saturday Evening
Rooms above "Wood Works" Shop, Marketplace, 2nd Circle
@Ercassie

His surprise to the number of brothers she had didn't go unnoticed. Five was a lot, even for her at times but she loved them all. "I don't see them often. They often accompany trade wagons or some royalty that might need abit of extra guard now and then so it keeps them moving and yes, I am the youngest." She answered back with a smile before taking her next bite.

She nodded lightly in understanding about cooking only for ones self. Of course she baked daily but she never counted that as cooking for anyone else even though she technically did. She found the meal and the company enjoyable beyond measure. When he suggested they should try the dish again unless she had some other enjoyable way to spend her evening she chuckled a bit. "I can't think of a better evening then this, I mean, we should try it again for comparison." She smiled. There was an ease to their conversation and she found she enjoyed this time alone with him very much. So much so she didn't realize how soon the meal went and she found herself taking a sip of the wine to finish it off.

Now with her plate empty as well as her glass she took her napkin and daubed at the corners of her mouth before setting it back on her lap. "Oh my, that was delicious. My compliments to the cook." She smiled at him. "I would have made short work of a second helping but I decided to save room for dessert." She hesitated a moment. " But before we go any further I have something to tell you." Maybe it was the atmosphere or the wine but she felt now was the time to speak out.

She reached into her pocket and as she pulled out a letter that had been opened and closed so many times it shone wear on it's edges and it's creases were well defined she spoke the words within, not having to read them as she'd memorized the words.

"How can I tell you that I love you
When I can't think the right words to say."

She set the letter on the table.

"I long to tell you
That I'm always thinking of you
But my words just blow away."

"Always ends up to one thing, my dear
'Words' aren't all I want to say"

Of course there was more to the letter but she found she had to look at him in this moment. "Addhor, I love you." She held her breath without knowing it.

@Lantaelen
One knife hit the floorboards. Her other hand clung onto the other duelling knife, as if it were a lifeline, even as she groaned quietly from how her ribs and her head had hit the wall. Stars. So many stars. Blindingly white.

"I'm here for him. He's in the books."

Panic gripped her heart. Lorcan was a menace - a viper - he could get to Dauntless if the knight did not wake quickly enough. And even if he did - would he rouse fast enough from sleep, would he be fast enough, to deal with someone who had been trained as Lorcan had been? Torniel did not know much about the training of knights due south. Her mental image was one of armour and big weapons - a force to be reckoned with, for sure, but was it a force that could handle the fast, slippery attacks of the Hand's rogues? She could hear sounds of a fight nearby - giving her the only comfort it could: that at least Lorcan had not found an easy target in Dauntless. She heard someone slammed into the floor, and feared it was Dauntless. Her hand reached in the dark, reached for her knife, as she tried to get to her knees, but the white stars turned to black, and her head was swimming as she lost her balance somehow, even when half slumped against the wall and the floor. Even as the pained sound of Dauntless' groan reached her, blackness took her.

But not for long.

She woke again almost instantly, perhaps thanks to some primal instinct for survival. While she'd missed the grotesque sound of Lorcan's demise, she heard someone moving, and her first reaction was to forget about the lost knife and instead swipe the one she still had in front of her as she desperately tried to get to her feet. As her eyes adjusted to the very low lighting of the room, she heard the sound of the name Dauntless had chosen for her... coming from his lips.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Dauntless," she breathed, as relief washed over her and she sagged back down to the floor. Grateful. So grateful. That he had lived. And then panic clawed at her again. If Dauntless was in the books... By the Valar. His days were numbered. Water lined her eyes as her gaze fixed upon him. She dropped her other knife to the floor as she saw him clutching his stomach. "You're hurt,' she breathed, shooting upright to hurry to his side. She did not doubt that Lorcan was dead, so she felt no need to ask. That entirely fell within her expectations, and it did not shock her or drive her away from the man she now sought to fuss over. "Come, sit," she coaxed him, fully intending to guide him to sit down on the bed.

There was a first aid kit underneath the bed. Close to where the sheaths of the duelling knives were, actually. She fully intended to light an extra candle or two and immediately take a look at whatever Lorcan had done to him, before Dauntless had done.. whatever he had done... to the assassin, in turn.

@Arnyn

Captain Pele Alarion
With Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Leaving the Citadel after meeting with King Elessar, December 31st

Pele had gone into the meeting without any major expectations except to learn how the King would see the whole situation and determined to adjust any plans and act accordingly. She had no doubts whatsoever that he would be fair and would be able to see it all with wisdom. But in the process of the meeting she did share a sliver of her own doubts regarding the mission, though she wondered how much the King saw beyond the few words shared.

If she had to be honest, Pele had to admit that she still wondered if it was worth putting the lives of her Rangers at risk for what seemed rather futile - even if they took out some of the evil slavers and the blood priest, who was to say if others like them would not come in their stead? The true change in Umbar had to come from within, after all. But then again, if there were more people like Ava there... That is, if she was really true in what she had told and shown them... Then again, if nothing was done about the whole slavery issue, slavers would get an idea that they can kidnap Gondorians without consequences, and people would keep suffering. Also - if the fact that whoever was joining the mission did it of their own will was meant to make things easier, it did nothing to lighten the burden of responsibility for these lives. And this responsibility is what she recognised in Arnyn.

When they eventually left, Pele didn't say anything either for a good long while, considering the words said, wondering about things beyond words. Once in a while she cast a brief look at her friend as they walked away from the Citadel - outwardly Arnyn looked as usual, but Pele wondered how much was going on beyond that calm and collected exterior.

Once they had returned to the sixth level and were out of the gate guards' hearing, Pele reached out to place her hand on Arnyn's arm to signal a stop, and then turned to face her.

"Arnyn..." she began, her blue eyes studying her friend's brown ones, her voice quiet so as not to carry to any ears that did not need to hear it. "I'm not going to suggest more tea or anything though I figure those would be beneficial, but I want to say a few things."

She paused to consider the words and then continued: "You are not supposed to carry all the heavy burdens all by yourself, you know. A team of horses can carry greater burdens for greater distances than a single horse ever could... Not that you are a horse, but you know... how things work with physical heavy loads - the principle stands for invisible heavy loads. Do not isolate yourself when the going gets tough. Yes? Once you told me this, and now I'm telling you - you are not alone."

Pele wasn't sure if the words said would make a major impact, but she felt the need to let Arnyn know that she would support her any way she knew how. At the same time she felt that too much of insistence would not be the right way to go at the moment, so she removed her hand from Arnyn's arm to create some space and breathing room, so her friend would feel free to leave at once if she willed. "Just so you know," she added gently as an after-thought, a faint smile touching her lips and adding a glint of warmth to her eyes.

@Pele Alarion
Arnyn let Pele’s hand fall from her arm, her own gloved fingers curling slightly, as if reluctant to release the small warmth. The Lieutenant nodded once in quiet acknowledgment. Her eyes stayed fixed on the worn stones beneath her boots, but her thoughts churned. She heard the words, understood them — felt them, even.

A team. We carry together. Simple, reasonable. Logical.

And yet.

The logic was clear. The principle, sound. Arnyn could almost see it as a straightforward truth, a simple equation: no one carries more than they can bear when others help shoulder the load. Yet even as her mind acknowledged the concept, another, sharper awareness edged in. It was not for herself that she worried, but for them.
Sadness threaded through her eyes. Sadness that Pele saw her like this, sadness that she could not unburden herself, sadness at how much she wanted to lean on someone while at the same time fearing for pushing at them too roughly with the weight she carried.

Pele had her own burdens. Arnyn had seen the quiet shadows in the Captain’s eyes, glimpsed the cracks left by years of duty and danger. And now, with Umbar looming, those fissures would widen again. Pele had already walked through fire of her own. Those hurts must already be resurfacing, after the recent meetings. To some degree, at least. But how much of the Captain's past shadows were now stirring? How much could Arnyn lean on her without tipping Pele back into her own darkness?

Her chest tightened at the thought. Every life they were to protect, every plan that might falter, pressed on her like cold iron. The King’s words about allowance for mistakes — about space to err — nearly sickened her now, much more than the poison. The sought-after reassurance cutting instead of comforting. How could Arnyn, who had seen and heard only a glimpse of the actual suffering of the others, risk so much as one slip, when they depended on her?

And yet, she was not just an officer. She was a woman who felt the sting of each life lost, each scar inflicted. Her mind flitted from Karis to Unalmis, from Abrazimir and Isys to Duinion. Each name a heartbeat in her chest, each of them carrying scars she could not erase. Could not fix. Could not heal. Each one already carrying histories of darkness and terror that she had only glimpsed. How can I ask any of them to bear more? the thought whispered, a knife twisting in her ribs. And still, the coming mission would demand more.

She lifted her gaze to Pele at last, seeing the faint glint of warmth in the Captain’s eyes. The thoughts, the questions, pressed against Arnyn's chest, formed in the quiet of her mind, not meant to be answered aloud: How much of your own burden is resurfacing, Pele, as we near this place? How much of you am I allowed to lean on without fracturing you? How many of us can carry this together before there is nothing left?

Arnyn would not allow it. Not now. Not ever, if she could prevent it.

I will carry this. I will carry it all. I will carry it so they do not have to.

The words were not spoken, but they shaped every step she took. Every breath she drew. Every beat of her heart was a quiet oath: she would protect them. She would endure. She would bear the weight of every life entrusted to her hands, even if it left her broken, even if it left her trembling behind the mask.

Her gaze flicked to Pele for a fraction of a second, enough to let a hint of warmth, of gratitude, shine through the cold Lieutenant. Thank you, it said. For seeing me as I am. The silence between the two officers, the sudden flicker of emotion in Arnyn's dark, dark eyes... Pele felt it. Arnyn was certain of it. But her friend could not see everything. Could not feel everything that was going on beneath the steady facade.

Arnyn’s lips pressed into a thin line even as she swallowed hard. She wanted to speak — to unburden the fear twisting in her chest — but she held it back. Her stomach knotted. Her hands itched to clench the gloves tighter, to press the warmth from them into herself. She imagined pressing her face to Pele’s shoulder, letting herself fall for a moment — letting someone else feel it — but she did not. She could not. She could ask nothing aloud, for Arnyn did not want to add another burden upon Pele's shoulders. Arnyn could not risk turning the concern she felt, the responsibility, the vigilance, the care... into an abyss that would breathe more space between them. The whole point of her silence was to shield Pele. For Arnyn knew Pele too well - for they were the same. Arnyn knew her friend would take Arnyn's protection as a whole other sort of burden, that Pele would feel responsible for Arnyn choosing to shoulder what she did.

The winter air brushed against her cheeks, cold but alive. Her heart hammered against the disciplined control she forced outwardly. Arnyn’s eyes brushed Pele’s briefly again, a faint glimmer of appreciation, a flicker of warmth, the ghost of a smile that did not reach her lips. But beneath that mask, her mind flicked through the faces, the voices, the lives she had sworn to protect. Every error, every moment of indecision, felt magnified a thousandfold in the looming shadow of Umbar. Her throat constricted, and she swallowed, tasting bile and fear.

The woman beneath the officer shouldered the realization that even her best would fall short. Shouldered the ache of the relentless, unsparing love she harboured for those she served. And which would likely break her before the arrival of summer.

@Arnyn

Captain Pele Alarion
With Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Leaving the Citadel after meeting with King Elessar, December 31st

They stood in silence, but Pele did not feel uncomfortable in it. She made use of it to still her thoughts, to find a place of calm within her, she simply let herself be generally aware of the surroundings even as she observed Arnyn. She could not spot any major cues in her friend's body language, but there were nuances that the Captain managed to pick up, barely so. A faint glint in those dark eyes, a minute change in the expression of her face. After a short internal debate she decided it was best not to place any additional pressure on Arnyn by demanding more openness; not all moments in time were suitable for public show of vulnerability.

However... Pele tilted her head ever so slightly, the smile lingering. "You know what," she spoke again and placed her hands on Arnyn's shoulders with an ever so light squeeze. "I might not be able to get you to relinquish your burdens immediately and throw them over the wall, but... even the most tempered steel can benefit from a gentle touch. So... excuse me." With that she stepped closer to pull Arnyn into a hug, just a few heartbeats of a warmth escaping from her eyes into an expression of friendship and support acted out by her whole being.

"I'm heading downwards for a bit, so if you want a brief walk together till we part ways, even if in silence, I'm game," she offered even as she released her friend from the onslaught of embrace.

@Pele Alarion
Arnyn did not resist the embrace. For a heartbeat she stood still — as if uncertain how to respond — and then she let her breath slip out in a slow, quiet exhale against Pele’s shoulder. The warmth of her friend's arms, the simple human contact; it cut through the layers of control more sharply than any reprimand or counsel could have.

Her gloved hands hovered for a moment before one of them returned the gesture — light, almost uncertain, as though she feared too much pressure might break something fragile in the both of them.

When Pele stepped back, Arnyn looked at her friend for a long moment, gratitude and apology flickering through her gaze before she nodded once.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet, almost hoarse. “A walk would be good.”

She adjusted the fall of her cloak and fell into step beside Pele once more.

They did not need words after that. Arnyn let herself match Pele’s pace, not leading, not following — simply walking.

@Arnyn
Gwestion had a lot to think about after his ride, and talk, with Gladhron. He still felt a little mixed up with the things Dom had said, and the things Gladhron had said, and the things that Arnyn had said, days ago at the dinner the group had shared together. But whatever the case, there was a certain matter that he needed to resolve before anything else. And, he hoped, perhaps the other matters could be resolved as. well, at the same time.

So, after putting Mael back in her stall, and Gwestion started up the streets at a slower pace than his brother. Gladhron was eager to get back 'home' and find out if supper was ready, for he had been kept for much longer at the guard's headquarters than he had expected, and then he and Gwestion had ridden further and longer than he had expected. So, he hastened up to the fifth level without waiting for his brother, who assured him he would be along shortly.

Gwestion, however, turned off another street once he had reached the fourth level. He headed for Arnyn's house, but after knocking a few times, he determined that she was not home. He sighed, turning to continue on his way, when he observed her walking along the street, toward him, from the other direction. Ah, it seemed luck was with him today, after all. He waited until she had drawn closer.

"Celume," He greeted her, pleased by the timing. "I was just coming to see you. Do you have a moment?"

@Rillewen
The sight of Gwestion standing in front of her doorstep, made Arnyn's brows lift. While she had not expected anyone by her door, she had certainly not expected Gwestion. Luckily, she had the time of her approach to surmount her surprise at this, and to prepare for whatever conversation was apparently coming at her next. After All which had already happened today. Gladhron. Kaylin and Gwestion showing up. Detailing everything to Pele. Meeting with the King. And then Pele, again, seeing more than Arnyn might wish, while at the same time seeing less than Arnyn might need. And now... what would thisbe about?

It could go so many ways.

And there was still... so much... to do, today.

By the time they were within speaking distance, Arnyn's steps had slowed. At his words, she slowly drew to a halt. "Gwestion," she acknowledged, albeit more quietly than he may have expected. She was just about to say Gladhron was not at her house, if that is who Gwestion was looking for, but then he said he had come to see her. A pause, as she regarded him. "I do," is what she settled on, as to whether she had a moment. She gestured toward her door. "Do you want to come in?" Or would he refuse, if he thought it too dangerous to be alone with her, away from the public eye, if he still thought she was not herself?

@Arnyn
He observed the way her steps slowed. Was that because she was surprised to see him? Or because she did not want to talk to him? Was Gladhron right, in his belief that Gwestion had offended her earlier? Or was it something else entirely? He tried not to overanalyze it, but he was also couldn't help but wonder.

When she asked if he would like to come in, he gave a small nod. It was rather chilly out here, with the afternoon bringing darkness so early. "That would be nice, thank you." He answered aloud, rather than relying on the nod for his answer.

@Rillewen
Wordlessly, Arnyn nodded and moved to open her door. She stepped in and held it open for him, and closed it again behind Gwestion once he was indoors. "I was just about to send a message to Isys', so we could discuss mission parameters. But this is better. Now I need to commit nothing to paper." Her words were not cool, but they were very... professional.

"But I am assuming you did not come here to discuss any of that. So," she said, turning toward him as she was still standing in her hallway, crossing her arms - as if that would help shield her from anything Gwestion might choose to throw at her. But, contrary to what her 'so' implied, no further words were forthcoming. Instead, she waited. Had he come here after devising some sort of test, to see whether she was still herself? Had he come here to ask her smart questions, so he might make up his mind about her? Or had Gladhron changed Gwestion's mind about all that, and had Gwestion come to spak with her for an altogether different reason?

@Arnyn
Quietly, Gwestion stepped inside the house with her, while Celume spoke of how she had been about to send a message to them. "I can pass on the message to Gladhron," He assured her, though he wondered how long that meeting would be, after how long the other was. But that was for later. He would worry about that later.

"I did not," He confirmed, in response to her assuming that he hadn't come to discuss that. "Actually, the reason I came is to apologize." He explained, getting right to it. He was a little unsure how to actually go about it, but he tried to be simple enough with it. "It's come to my attention that you may have felt slighted that I left earlier without saying goodbye. And I wanted to assure you that it wasn't because I didn't want to speak to you, but that I had things to do, and I didn't know how long your talk with Kaylin would last." He explained. "I didn't want to interrupt an important, and private, discussion."

@Rillewen
He had come to apologize? Surprise flickered through Arnyn's expression, the only other tell she allowed besides a long moment of silence, which she was unable to avoid given the very unexpected nature of his words.

"You need not apologize, Gwestion," she finally said, quietly. "I take it that the person who brought this to your attention was your brother. If that is the impression he gave, he took some creative license. I did, however, mention that it seemed as if you were avoiding to speak to me," she said, thinking back on what had been said between Gladhron and her, "and I believe I also expressed that I would do a friend the courtesy of speaking to them directly if a third party were to cast them in a bad light."

"But the latter did not mean that I assumed that is what you were refusing to do. While I did assume you left so quickly because you and Gwandhyra had already spoken, those words were more of an appeal to both your brother and yourself, in case..." Arnyn did not quite have the heart to finish. So she did not.

"If you have already spoken," she continued, "as I would assume you must have, I hope your friend did not lay any blame where it does not belong. By which I mean, it does not lie, not in the slightest, at your feet," Arnyn insisted firmly. She knew all too well how similar she and Gwestion were when it came to self-chastising. Therefore, she hoped Domanol had chosen her and her alone as the one to blame. And since she was the officer involved in the whole thing, such a reasoning would be more than sound.
In any case, Arnyn was determined to impress upon Gwestion that he should not be held responsible. If the thought had occurred to him - either through any words Domqnol might have said, or through any thoughts that were all his own. Either was an option, she reckoned. But Gwestion already blamed himself for too many things he should not blame himself for.

@Arnyn
He frowned as he tried to follow along with her words, to fit together her reasoning. He felt as if he were missing something. "Perhaps my wording was off, then. Let me just say then; I was not avoiding you." He insisted. "And if you recall, I did speak to you. But then Kaylin wanted to speak to you in private, while I wanted to speak to Gladhron. Then, I had things to do, and you seemed busy, as well. So, to wait for you to be finished with your talk which could have lasted a long while, simply so I could tell you goodbye, seemed an inefficient use of time." He frowned. "I.. am unaccustomed to visiting people's homes. Please, forgive me if it was rude."

That being said, he tried to decipher her other words for a moment. "I have spoken to Gwandhyra, of course. After leaving from the guard headquarters, we were not permitted to enter the fifth circle, so I could not return to Lady Isys' house to sleep. He.. imposed upon his brother to let us sleep in the rooms above his shop, instead." He explained. "But why would you think that he would have said anything to make me think badly of you? And blame.. for what, exactly?" He wondered, for that seemed to be what it boiled down to, if he was interpreting it correctly. That, and trying to tell him not to blame himself for... whatever it was.

@Rillewen
Arnyn's brows went up a little at Gwestion's words. "An inefficient use of time," she repeated, not sure whether to shake her head or nearly laugh at the irony. She ended up breathing out a half laugh. "Well. Thank you for coming to tell me that. I was under the wrong impression then."

She assessed Gwestion's little frown. If it was so important to him that she forgave him... "You are not upset with me?" Arnyn sought to learn, surprise flickering through yet again. How could Gwestion not be? Arnyn's oversight had possibly endangered Seri, Brooke and Aislin. A possibility that truly existed, that she could not exactly... solve anymore. Seri, Brooke and Aislin, who had, in the years between the brothers and Arnyn's meeting in the north and the present, apparently started to feel like family.

@Arnyn
Gwestion tilted his head thoughtfully, noting the fact that she had not actually answered either of his questions. While with most people, he could understand that they might simply overlook the fact that he had actually been expecting answers, he did not think that was true of Celume. She was avoiding giving the answers, he felt. But why? He felt even more puzzled when she asked if he was not upset with her. He had to take a moment to think back over all that had been said last night, while Dom was still so upset. And then he began to realize what she must be referring to.

He gave a small sigh, his gaze dropping downward. "Dom is upset. With all three of us, I believe." He informed her quietly, including Gladhron as well. "But I can think of no reason why I should be upset with you." He frowned and hesitated. "I also feel that I am missing something, which seems to be adding fuel to his anger. But you needn't feel responsible for my own failure, Celume." He added quietly.

After a little pause, he added tentatively, "You also did not answer my questions, a moment ago."

@Rillewen
She did not immediately know what to do with... this. That Domanol was upset with Gwestion and Gladhron, was not what she would have hoped. And she'd had no idea what to expect. Holding back a sigh of her own, Arnyn was annoyingly aware of her hands all of a sudden. So useless, simply hanging there at either side of her body. The Lieutenant in her wanted to stiffen. The woman wanted to reach for her friend's hand. She ended up doing neither.

"Would you like to sit?" she offered instead, venturing a few steps toward the living room. "If you've decided, meanwhile, that I am still myself?" she added, and somehow the slightly upturned corner of her mouth, which should have hinted at a smile, looked sad instead.

"I had hoped he would only be upset with me - and blame me," was the explanation she offered Gwestion first of all. "After all - neither you nor Gladhron were in charge of handling any of this. I was. The oversights are my responsibility. Not yours. I cannot see where you have failed, since you were operating under my guidance and instructions."

"Which ties in to your question. When your friend and I spoke at guard headquarters-" she held back even the downplayed words she had been about to use; how it 'had not been a pleasant conversation'. "When we spoke," she tried again, "he opened my eyes to those errors. Which is also why I can think of several reasons why you might think less of me, or might be upset with me, after speaking with him yourself," she continued, approaching the seating area and holding an arm out in invitation for Gwestion to sit.

"And I could blame neither you or your friend if that is the case," she added, more quietly, before tilted her chin upward a fraction. As if preparing for something. "For he was right to point them out to me."

"For one, I did not think to limit Ava's movements around the city. Which means I did not only potentially endanger anyone she's encountered, if she is proven false in the end - but that I also rather specifically endangered Seri, Aislin and Brooke." Arnyn swallowed.

"For if Ava should prove false, and if she wanted to strike at Gondor, for whatever reason - who better to strike at than - first of all - people who could move against Umbar, like the Captain or myself, but also - secondly - people whom she knows will cause those who would move against Umbar the most pain and suffering?"

She avoided Gwestion's gaze, lingering behind one of the arm chairs, her hands resting upon the backrest. Deceptively calm, as her mind sorted through what she could say, and what should remain unsaid - to honour the privacy of everyone involved. She was not about to reference to Domanol's plans against Umbar, after all - those were classified. Neither was she about to tell Gwestion about Domanol's personal painful past - just in case Gwestion was unaware.

"It would be a tactical move to target people whom she knows are closely tied to those who would move against her city. If Ava has decided I am a danger to her operations in Umbar, if she does mean us harm in order to safeguard her assets there, then it would make tactical sense to target my family. Tercen." Arnyn need not say that Ava had maneuvered herself into the perfect spot for that, already. If she proves false, a little voice repeated, trying to keep her sane. If. "To target my friends." Her dark eyes lifted, then. To meet Gwestion's. "And I introduced Ava to you, and Gladhron. But at least the two of you are rangers, with your own agency, your own decisions. But... I also introducted her to Seri, Brooke and Aislin, Gwestion. As if Ava had already proven harmless." Which Ava had not been, of course. That had been the chord which Domanol had struck the hardest. While Arnyn still believed that no one should be considered guilty until there was proof - he had opened Arnyn's eyes to the fact that she had been too careless when it came to Ava. It was beyond denying.

"Secondly, I fell asleep at the theatre, as if I could afford not to watch the potential risk sitting a few seats over. Which I cannot afford." By the Valar. Her chest constricted painfully at her own failures. "But I did, anyway."

"Not only that - but then I chose to leave the theatre. And not only did I do that, I also did not even insist that Gladhron should stay with your party. So you might still have, at least, two sets of eyes close by Ava. One set to stay with her - and another to watch Seri and her nieces. Which, I am sure, put you in a very difficult position at some point in the evening. Where you would have had to choose between staying close to Ava and staying with your friends." Her nearly black eyes were genuinely regretful as she regarded him. "If Ava had wished to strike then... the rangers watching from a distance would not have been able to intervene in a timely fashion. And you could only be in one place at a time. Instead of three people right there - suddenly there was only you." Her voice lowered to a whisper, but her eyes still held his. "You are not the one who owes me an apology here. I'm sorry, Gwestion. I should never have put you in such a position."

"When I mentioned to Gladhron it seemed like you were avoiding me... I did not claim you would be wrong to do so."

@Isolde Alarion

For the first time in a long time, the evening was not measured by the passing of the city bells. He could not even have said what hour it was any more. Moments merged, all part of the laughter and the leaning into relaxation, as the couple shared more than a meal. More easily than he had ever dared to hope, they had shared more than they had before about where they each came from, about what they cared about. What they wanted .. That this might be not a one-off effort but an already pleasant memory .. to be repeated. Replicated. Improved upon even .. if such a thing were possible. As far as Addhor was concerned, Nell’s company had made the evening better than any other he could easily recall.

“Your contribution made all the difference in the world,” he assured her, when she complimented the food. And the sentiment referred to far more than the bread rolls she had generously provided to the fare. But when mention was made of dessert, he readied to rise and serve up the sweeter course. And was halted when Nell said she had something to tell him first.


Panic set in for only a moment, because this was .. clearly .. going well .. Too well ? Would this be where it unravelled ? And as the woman reached into her pocket, the man eyed the emptied plates, as though order could safeguard him. If there was going to come some hard truth now, some disappointing reality … he could empty the table of their used crockery. He could begin putting away all the hopes and dreams he had allowed himself to get caried away with .. Just .. keep busy .. he could …

He could not believe his ears when she began to speak the words of the letter he’d sent her. When she produced what he assumed was that same mad whim which had taken hold of him some time ago. He’d hardly believed that he had dared to write it, even less that he had dared to send it, save that this was what she brought out in him. A very serious want to do the silliest of things. And now, as she laid it out between them where there was no escaping the truth. The feelings he had struggled to express .. she was letting him know that she had heard him. That she knew.

That she .. too ..


In the same moment that Nell held her breath, Addhor released his. Relief did not even come close, although as brown eyes met green, the rest of him froze. All the time and effort he had gone to, to make up the meal, serve the plates and pour the wine and now .. now there were just simply far too many things all cluttering the space between them. A flash of yearning imagined a single hand to sweep the table aside, so that he could be closer to her than he currently sat. For it seemed that they were closer .. than he had maybe dared to believe. He blinked, returned to the reality which still seemed as a wonder. And then rose.

“Nell.” The soft syllable was only the beginning of her name, was as far as he could vocalise. He had not known that he could pass from where he’d left his seat, to find hers. To find her, in such a short space of time. “I ..”


Glancing down, he found his hand was already teetering about the edge of touching hers. Glancing back, silence spoke in the slight escape of breath. They both knew what more words were written in the letter. The conclusion, that there were simply not words enough in any spoken language to say how much he already loved her. So he offered her his hand, proper now, inviting her to meet him, drawing her up slowly even as he leaned down, and let lips speak words without use of any letters.

Dessert had been proclaimed as a secret. But the kiss, what had encouraged it, and the fact that they might share the likes of that .. was perhaps the sweetest surprise which should not have shocked either one of them. A slight tilt of his head looked to gauge if she was well. To ascertain that he had not just grossly misunderstood. So that if she did not pull away, if she loitered where her face now was aside his, she could not miss it.

“I .. love you,” he closed his eyes and laid out the admission like a whisper at her ear. “I love you.”

@Arnyn
Gwestion felt as if there was something bothering her, though he could not guess at what it might be.
He was surprised by her asking if he'd like to sit, and was about to answer that he hadn't planned to take up a lot of her time, when she added the bit about 'if you've decided I am still myself'. He inwardly cringed. He hadn't expected Gladhron to tell her about that, and he felt a flicker of annoyance toward his brother for it. Especially since he hadn't told Gwestion that he had done so. He held back a sigh as he noted that her smile didn't look amused, but rather, possibly, hurt. Or at the very least, sad. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with that, and followed after her without a word, instead. Listening, as she moved on to answer what he had said about Dom.

He listened to all that she said, with only a small sigh as he took a seat in the armchair, absently reaching down to rub his ankle. It was still bothering him, and it still made him want to favor it although it was more of a discomfort than a pain. He still had the poultice on, since Seri had instructed him to leave it on until he went to bed.

He waited, quietly, while Celume spoke of all the reasons why she felt that he had a right to be upset with her, and how she had failed, and so on. He wore a slight frown as he listened, both paying attention to her, while his own mind was trying to sort through everything that she was saying, plus all that he and Dom had spoken of, last night. After she had finished speaking, Gwestion took a moment to think of what to respond to, first.

"Perhaps we were not in charge of it," He agreed. "We got involved, however. As for why he would have reason to be upset with us..." Gwestion sat back, forcing himself to leave the poultice alone. "If not for Gladhron's big mouth, none of this would have ever been an issue." He pointed out. "And Dom is.. understandably.. upset about that." His gaze wandered down toward the floor. "As for me.." He sighed as he tried to think of how to explain it, without her discrediting his own blame. "I missed things. I failed to be the guardian I should have been." He swallowed. "She said she was going to the lady's room to clean her dress," He explained quietly. "And, moments later, the girls also decided to go to the lady's room, to get the dog cleaned up." He let a brief pause hang in the air before slowly raising his gaze to meet hers. "And.. while I know I couldn't follow either group there, I should have realized the potential danger to the girls. And I didn't." He looked down again. "I should have woken you, to have you go with them," Of ccourse, that option hadn't seemed necessary then. But inhindsight...

Gwestion shook his head. "You may have fallen asleep, Celume, which I can only assume was because you were completely exhausted... in which case, I can't see how anyone can really blame you for dozing off. But I failed to wake you when I was placed into that position you spoke of. I should have wakened you and asked you to follow.. either Ava, or the girls, since I could not." He looked away and focused on the fabric of the armchair.

"Also, I was under the impression, and therefore assumed, that you had rangers posted nearby, to keep watch on her without being obvious about it. When I was placed in that predicament, I told myself that there were rangers somewhere, watching her, and therefore it would be better to let them do their job, with more subtlety, and let her believe that we trusted her enough to go off alone." He paused. "And the other rangers watching her may have been true, but I should not have relied on that. I should have just assumed that there were not, and then I would have been there to avoid the entire mess they got into, behind that curtain." He frowned a little deeper. "I also could have left a note of some sort to let you know... something. But I assumed that neither you, nor Gladhron, would wake and that we would all return to our seats before you ever knew we'd left. If I had, then perhaps you would not have left the theater."

He glanced at her at last. "So, you see, you are not the only one who can claim any of the blame for this, Celume." He informed her with a slightly sad smile, which didn't really look much like a smile. "I seem to have a habit of messing up, and making the wrong choices, when it matters the most. I am not sure whether you ought to even trust me with this mission, in fact."

@Rillewen
She noted the way he rubbed his ankle, but did not call attention to it. Listening to his words, she gave him the same courtesy as he had given her - listening without interruptions, offering little more than small changed in her expression to show she was still paying close attention. Because - of course she was.

"My failure began before Gladhron ever said anything that evening," Arnyn put forth, albeit gently. "While it did create... a lot of problems... it also forced my hand to deal with a situation that I should have dealt with sooner. And the same thing happened the night of the theatre. I have been remiss. What happened with Gladhron, and then at the theatre and guard headquarters... could have all been avoided, if I had acted more cautiously." Domanol knew that all too well - and hopefully that would soon help fade his anger - or whatever the feeling might now be - toward the brothers. Arnyn hoped so, anyway. She would rather be the target of such negativity, than to know it was also being aimed at Gladhron and Gwestion.

Letting go of some of her control, Arnyn sighed as she moved around the armchair and claimed it as a seat. Finally. "Sometimes, Gwestion," she said thoughtfully as she looked at him, "I wonder at how similar you and I can be. Hearing you speak, just now - it was as if listening to a different version of myself. And now I find myself in a bit of a bind," Arnyn added with a wry little smile.
"For I want to ease your mind and lift your worries. And I also realize that in doing so, I may as well be talking to myself. And I do not want to ease my own mind and lift my own worries. Because a great many lives are riding on me getting things right."

She slanted her head. "And - because we are so alike, in this respect - I highly doubt that any of my efforts to make you feel better, would have any effect, anyway." Gladhron's reassurances had not lifted her self-doubt, after all. Neither had Pele's efforts. "In such matters... I fear you and I are on the same side of the coin."

Her wry smile faded. "But, at the very least... we can reassure each other we are not alone in feeling as we do."

As for the mission... Arnyn frowned slightly. Her voice was very quiet as she replied to that statement. "I have already told the both of you that, personally, I do not want you to go at all. But that has nothing to do with my trust in your capabilities. And everything with my wish to keep you away from such danger. As I told my Captain, and the King, as well, by now - I cannot claim to have any professional reservations. Anyone who is sent in, could make a wrong choice. Odds are, anyone would, at some point. The main difference between most people, and you and I, Gwestion - is that we take our self-chastising to a whole other level."

"I have no doubts concerning your capability in this mission, Gwestion," she stated, knowing he needed to hear it. "None. I trust you have what it takes. Even if you might not trust it, yourself."

@Arnyn
Gwestion grew thoughtful as she declared that her failure preceded any of theirs. It almost struck him as amusing, to think of the two of them comparing their failures, as if it were some sort of contest. But the gravity of the situation wiped away any thought of humor, and so he didn't even venture a hint of a smile. It was only a passing thought of how it could have been funny, under other circumstances.

"It is.. not a good feeling," He acknowledged softly, in response to the bit about how similar they were, in wanting to say something to ease the other's worries, yet knowing it would do no good. Because he did know that feeling, since he was feeling it right now. He'd like to be able to say something that would assure her that all was fine, but how could he expect her to actually believe something when he knew that he wouldn't? He shook his head slightly at the thought, then looked over at her. "Gladhron would try to say something to 'cheer us up'," and try to assure us we aren't to blame or something," He mentioned, with his own wry little smile. "And then he wonders why I get annoyed at him. Because he just doesn't get it." He sighed softly. Gladhron was a totally different type of person, and that made it difficult for either of them to understand the other's point of view in most things. Gwestion couldn't simply shake off feelings of guilt over things that might be his fault, while his brother tended to forget his own faults a bit too easily.

Gwestion was drawn back from his thoughts about he and his brother when Arnyn replied to what he'd said about the mission. And her not wanting them to go had nothing to do with her trust in their abilities. He understood that. And he appreciated the words, but she also didn't know... plenty. He let her finish, while looking off at the opposite wall, and the floor near it. And whatever furniture might be in that area. He managed a faint smile at her saying that they both took the self-chastising to a new level. "Brooke does the same thing," He mentioned quietly, having noticed that while spending so much time with the three Bree ladies. "We could form a club."

As she emphasized that she did not doubt his capabilities for the mission, a tiny part of his mind suggested that he ought to fill her in on exactly why he did have some doubts, so she would understand. So she'd know why he wasn't sure if she should trust that he wouldn't fail at something, important, while there. He mentally went through all of the things that so often haunted his memory, of the various ways he had been responsible for something bad. One by one, each incident flashed through his mind, but the larger, stubborn part of his mind refused. After a moment of silence, in which the two parts of his mind briefly wrestled, Gwestion cleared his throat. "Thank you." He said quietly, with slight difficulty. While he didn't really know how well her trust was placed, he did appreciate that trust. He only hoped that he wouldn't let her down, and that she would end up regretting that.

He felt that it was probably time for him to leave, by now. "I.. did not intend to take up this much of your time. I should be going, I suppose. They will be expecting me for supper." He prepared to stand so he could go. He didn't want to miss supper, after all, and he also didn't want them to send a search party looking for him. Or for Claery to start coming up with her own rumors about where he was or what he was doing.

@Rillewen
"Yes, he would," she agreed with Gwestion about how his brother would try and cheer them. But where Gwestion made it clear he found that trait annoying, a faint smile appeared on Arnyn's face. "He wants us to be happier," Arnyn said quietly, barely audible - but Gwestion would have caught it regardless. "Even if he does not understand it. At least he tries." The only way he knew how. Tercen was similar in trying to cheer her up, or just be there for her. And even if it did not usually make her feel better about whatever it was, on some level it did make her feel better to know her brother cared. Didn't Gwestion feel that way, when Gladhron showed that? She wondered about that, but felt like this was not the time to ask.

Arnyn snorted at his little joke about forming a club. "I'd hate to have to think of a good name for that one," she said drily. But she saw how difficult it was for Gwestion to say anything in response to her trust, and she figured Gwestion felt uncomfortable when the next words to leave his mouth were about leaving. Arnyn drew in a breath, then nodded. She remembered him being this way in the North, as well. Not really sharing too much. Going for evasion once things got too close. That he had shared as much with her as he had, was already sign enough of the trust he was choosing to extend to her in return. And, with Gwestion, Arnyn knew better than to pry.

"I suppose you are right." She rose from her chair. Stepping to the hallway, her gaze brushed over Gladhron's cloak. "You know..." Her cadence was slow, her tone thoughtful, as she turned to Gwestion. "People like you and I - we don't really ever let go of our mistakes. But that also means we never forget what we learn from them." Arnyn held out her arm to him. "At least we have that going for us."

In what seemed like an afterthought, she added: "Your brother left his cloak."

@Arnyn
He had to admit, she was right about Gladhron wanting them to be happier. But of course, that was part of the problem. At least with Gwestion. And, he suspected, also with Celume. He didn't feel that he deserved to be happy, and so why should he let someone convince him that he did? He couldn't speak for her, but he knew that was how he felt about it. Of course, it was nice that his brother cared enough to try, but he also didn't seem to know when to stop, and leave him alone.

A small nod met her words about them learning from their mistakes. Indeed, how true that was. He thought of how he had changed since his youth, and he had to agree with her about that. Seeing her holding out a hand to him, he reached out and clasped her hand. "There is that, yes." He agreed quietly, with a hint of sadness somewhere in his voice.

The next moment, she mentioned that his brother had left his cloak. "Oh, I know." He answered with a faint smile. "I heard all about how cold he was, the entire time we were riding earlier." He rolled his eyes. "In fact, I was debating whether to get it for him, or make him get it himself..." He shrugged slightly. "But, for the sake of you being able to get some rest, I'll bring it to him." He took it from the hook and draped it over his arm.

Before leaving, he paused as he thought of something that he could say, which might make her feel a little better. Or not. It might depend on how he worded it, and so he hesitated about even speaking up. After debated briefly, he decided to venture it and hope that he didn't misspeak. "Celume?" He turned to her at the door. "I.. I don't know what Gladhron said.. earlier," He waved a hand briefly and hoped she knew what he meant. But then, he recalled how easily he could be misunderstood, so he figured he should make it clear what he was referring to. "About my concerns.. that you might not be fully yourself," He cleared his throat quietly. "That was not because of your mistakes, nor because you seemed ill last night, or anything like that." He wanted her to know.

@Rillewen
A smile mirrored Gwestion's upon Arnyn's own face, when he clasped the hand she'd offered. Somehow, it always felt like a confirmation of his friendship whenever she offered her hand and Gwestion took it. And even though Arnyn was convinced the two of them could use more than a simple hand clasp, she did not venture out to embrace her friend. Gwestion was not much of a hugger, or at least that was the impression she had gotten. And they had, just now, approached one another with words. Perhaps that was enough, for now.

For all their similarities, the two of them were still - also - wildly different. It was possibly why she had often felt like some sort of link between Gladhron and Gwestion, all those years ago back in the north. As if she were able to move on some sort of scale between their personalities, back and forth depending on the topic and the moment.

Arnyn raised her eyebrows when Gwestion mentioned Gladhron had been complaining about being cold during their whole ride. "At least he wore his shoes, this time." Could you imagine? She flashed a faint grin. "He forgot those when he stepped out to retrieve some food, earlier," she explained, shaking her head. Watching as Gwestion took the cloak from her wall and put it over his arm, she pondered his words. "I would have brought it to our meeting, otherwise," she reassured him. "Speaking of which - since it is already about suppertime - I suggest we meet to coordinate tomorrow, rather than today, as I had first yet hoped to do. That will give you and Gladhron an evening without..." She gestured vaguely. "All of this." They would be able to use it, she figured, before leaving in only two days...

"As for rest - I will still need to pay a visit to Ava and my brother. I suspect that will up the remainder of my own evening..." And then, upon her return home... tea... "Before I turn in," she finalized.

Gwestion turning back toward her at the door, made Arnyn slant her head. His words made her frown a little. "If not because I was making mistakes or because I seeemed ill," she repeated slowly, "then why?"