World: Games of Intrigue
Scene: Tap room of the Merchant's Gate Inn, Tevera. February 11th, 1404. It is snowing.
Players: Maeri = Abby; Saeran = Saeran's typist; Edwin = Edwin's typist
The energy in the room is palpable. You can almost feel the deals being struck, the hearts being won, and the enemies being made. The Merchant's Gate knows no class boundaries, and its wide Tap Room gives shelter and comfort to nobleman, merchant, craftsman, farmer and peasant alike. Shelter and comfort perhaps...peace and quiet never! The voices rise and fall like the ocean itself. As crowded as this room can be, there are always many places you can find a seat. Long high-backed benches line the walls, and sturdy wooden tables cover the rest of the floor. A huge fireplace presides over the western end of the room, its smoke over the years having blackened the massive wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling. Behind a long wooden bar that partitions off the far eastern end of the room is an archway from which thick clouds of delicious smelling smoke occasionally roll. A fire roars in the fireplace, helping light the dark room. A blast of cold air sneaks in whenever the door open.
Maeri is small and slight, her dark curling hair braided back into a single plait, from which wisps keep stubbornly escaping. Soft brown eyes look gravely out of a grave, rounded face. Her hands are slender and strong, with long fingers much callused at the ends. She seems somewhat brusque, but not unfriendly. She is wearing a soft brown tunic, beautifully embroidered at the neck and cuffs with a design of trailing rose vines, belted over a long crimson skirt with a sash of braided cord.
[Saeran:] A woman on the short side, perhaps four feet six inches. Dark curly hair, a sturdy, generously curved figure. Dark shining eye peer laughing at the world, lively with interest and curiosity. Her early middle age a comfortable one, her life running at a smooth and practiced pace, she gives the impression of being at ease in the world and in her own skin. She is dressed in her working clothes, a worn dress of blue homespun, silted with streaks of smooth clay and dusted with colored glazing powder.
Edwin of Talaena is tall and thin, with a comfortable manner about him and an ease to his step and his smile. His hair is black like raven's feathers, and he wears a stylish Van Dyke style mustache and goatee common in Arina at this time. His eyes are sky blue. He is also wearing a sky blue tunic with decorative yellow embroidery around the collar and sleeves, black legging and polished black boots. The clothes look well suited for riding and are of the finest materials. An elegantly simple short sword hangs at the man's waist.
Henriette sends a couple of the lads off to the cellars for more wine.
Maeri slips in from the street quickly, shawl clutched about her, gasping a little from the cold.
Saeran is sitting at one of the tables before the fire, warming herself in the fire's heat and her hands and insides with a cup of hot cider. She glances up at the blast of cold air let in by the open door, and smiles widely, seeing who entered. She waves across the crowded room, and calls out. "Maeri!"
Maeri blows on her hands fiercely, then looks up. "Mother," she rejoins, quite cheerfully for Maeri, and crosses toward her.
Saeran stands up from her chair and gives her daughter a quick hug, looking at her smilingly. "That's a lovely tunic. Your work?"
Maeri hugs her back firmly, then quirks a brief grin and nods. "Thanks." She looks down at it, mildly self-conscious, then up again. "You well?"
Saeran nods, and settles back into her seat again with a warm smile. "Join me? I'm doing well enough...this cold weather is no good to my hands, though, especially with the wet clay."
Maeri nods her brief brusque nod, and tucks her skirts under her as she takes a seat. "I can imagine." A sharp look. "You'll take care?"
Saeran shrugs mildly. "I have been working less. What I really need is an apprentice, now that Jaesen's off in Arina with his own shop. Someone to keep the fire tended and ready the clay and such."
Maeri nods again, smoothing her skirts, her brow furrowed slightly.
A sturdy-looking lad drops a fresh ale keg into place with a grunt.
Saeran looks over at you and shakes her head a little, smiling. "Don't worry about me, you know I'll manage all right. Always do. Tell me, how are things going?"
One of the keg boys drives a tap into a fresh ale keg, grumbling something about 'drinkin' it like it was water...'
Maeri laughs shortly, darting her an affectionate look. "Aye, you always manage, all right. --Fine. A little slow."
Saeran nods. "Hmm. I suppose there's not as much call for embroidery on winter clothes?"
Maeri shrugs. "Sometimes there is. Not this year. Don't know why." She leans forward, holding her hands to the fire.
Saeran smiles a little. "Then let me buy you a drink? I've had a good year, what with the commission from the new Countess of Enestal. I could probably stop working till spring...if I had anything else to do to take up the time."
Maeri grins. "Now how can I turn that down?" And then, with rough shy warmth, "Well, if anyone deserves a good year it's you."
Saeran smiles and waves across the room to Henrietta, her eyes on her daughter's face. "What will you have?"
Maeri shrugs, reaching up to push back her unruly hair. "Eh... cider, please."
Saeran calls over to Henrietta. "Another hot cider for me, and one for Mae here." She turns her eyes back and smiles, reaching a hand to tuck an unruly curl behind your ear. "It's good to see you, Maeri. How are you finding it, living alone?"
Maeri makes a peculiar face at the touch, like a small girl trying not to duck away. "All right. Quiet, but that's all right..."
Saeran grins a little, and lets her hand drop, turning as Henrietta comes over with the cider. "Ah, thanks luv." She pays, and sets her hands around her cup, breathing in the warm steam. "Mmm. Well, you always did like things quiet."
Maeri takes her own mug, reddening slightly. "Aye, well..."
Saeran looks at you over the rim of her cup and offers, with a hint of a wistful smile, "Well, if things ever get too quiet for you, you could come by for a visit...maybe spend the night sometime."
Maeri glances in much the same fashion over hers, and again with that awkward half-grin says, "Might do that."
Saeran smiles and sips her cider, biting off an impulse to ask you if you've met any nice boys lately. She glances up. "So how are things going with your embroidery? Have you learned any new techniques lately?" She grimaces faintly, looking down at the clayey dress she is wearing. "I keep thinking I should really get some new clothes..."
Maeri shakes her head meditatively. "Not really. Though," she adds, brightening, "I've been thinking of trying things with beads... aye, you should." She hesitates, but in the end leaves it at that.
Saeran chuckles. "Well, what should I, then? You know how hopeless I am with clothes. I have the money...might as well spend it on something nice, for once." She eyes you brightly.
Maeri sips her cider, contemplatively. "Depends what you've a fancy for." She slants a considering glance at her. "Red would be nice, maybe."
Saeran smiles, and looks at your skirt. "Like that?"
Maeri reddens again for no good reason. "Or not."
Saeran looks up at you curiously. "Maeri, love...is something wrong?"
Maeri shakes her head, occupying herself with her cider. When she's done she says rather curtly, "Nothing."
Saeran frowns, her eyes on your face, and starts to say something, then looks down instead unhappily. Her voice is quiet and a touch hurt. "Very well."
Maeri's shoulders hunch slightly, and she stares into her mug. "Sorry."
Saeran shrugs and says quietly, "You're a grown woman now, Maeri. You don't have to tell me your personal life." She sips her drink, looking into the fire to avoid her daughter's face.
Maeri clenches her teeth. "Mother. I'm not hiding anything. Just isn't anything to tell."
Saeran shrugs, and sips her drink, clearly not beliving it, but not wanting to fight, either. She tries to recapture her earlier good mood with a reasonably successful attempt at a smile. "So red, do you think?"
One of the serving girls tours the room, picking up the empty mugs and glasses.
Maeri takes an exasperated breath; then lets it out slowly. "Aye. It'd look nice on you. Or green."
Edwin walks into the inn, brushing a few snowflakes from his shoulders.
Saeran mms. "I like the idea of red better." She is sitting at the table before the fire, talking with Maeri.
Maeri grins a bit. "So do I."
Edwin leans against the bar and looks around, taking off his gloves slowly. He spies Saeran and his brows raise in acknowledgement.
Saeran looks at Maeri sidelong, almost shyly. "So...could I hire you, then? To make something for me...and embroider it?" She is too fixed on Maeri's face to notice anyone else at the moment.
Maeri expostulates mildly, cheeks reddening yet again. "Mother. I'd be happy to do it..."
Edwin turns and leans over to Henriette. "Some of your honey wine, Henriette, please. I know you have some hidden away." He grins, "I'm good for it."
Saeran smiles, and laughs a little. "You will? good." She catches sight of Edwin then, at the bar, and her eyes widen in recognition.
Edwin retrieves his requested wine from Henriette. He winks and reaches into his purse and pays of the the scowling woman, whose scowl slowly turns to a smile. He turns back around and takes a sip, looking over ta the two women again. Mother? Mother and daughter, perhaps...
Maeri blinks at Saeran's expression, and follows her gaze quizzically.
Saeran nods to Edwin, seeming almost resigned. she leans across the table. She mutters to Maeri, "... lord,... though a charming... Watch yourself..."
"That is a young lord, and a right scoundrel, though a charming one. Watch yourself with him, Maeri."
Edwin notices the look and inclines his head with a warm smile. "My dear Mistress Potter. It is a pleasure to see you again. A warmth to my soul this cold night." His eyes glitter in the light from the fire.
Maeri raises a brow. She mutters to Saeran. She returns her attention to her cider, a trifle cautiously. "I see..."
One of the serving girls tours the room, picking up the empty mugs and glasses.
Saeran looks up at Edwin and smiles. "Hello m'Lord. How are you keeping these days?"
Edwin's eyes linger on Maeri. He knows mother will have warned her about "men like him." Perhaps even "him" himself. He smiles again as he returns his eyes to Saeran. "I am keeping myself as warm as possible and in the good graces of Father and Daughter." He grins.
Maeri sits very straight and very quiet, listening.
Saeran chuckles. "I'm glad to hear it, m'Lord." She nods to the other at the table. "M'lord, this is my daughter, Maeri. Maeri, this is Lord Edwin of Talaena."
Edwin takes a drink of his wine and takes a few steps closer to the table to get a better look at Maeri. He bows deeply, "My pleasure, dear lady. Your charming mother speaks highly of you."
Maeri glances back, and inclines her head politely, if awkwardly. "M'lord." She looks faintly bemused.
Edwin says "Your hair is so similar. It is clear you are mother and daughter." He looks at Maeri. "Am I wrong or did you say you had more than one daughter, Mistress Potter?"
Saeran nods, smiling. "Maeri is my younger daughter."
Edwin drowns an amused smile in his cup of wine. Looking up, he says, "I see. She is a lovely girl. You must be proud." His eyes give Saeran a teasing look.
Maeri's cheeks blaze and her jaw tightens. She sips her cider studiously.
Saeran gives Edwin an amused look, knowing he is making no good impression by talking about her daugher as if she were not there. "I am. Very proud."
One of the keg boys drives a tap into a fresh ale keg, grumbling something about 'drinkin' it like it was water...'
Edwin grins, and turns to look at the red-faced young girl. Indeed, what impression did he stand a chance of making in front of the mother anyway. He nods to the girl. "I seem to have not lost my incredibly bad habit of turning the cheeks of young women quite red." He bows and and his smile leaves his face, though not his eyes. "As much as I enjoy the effect, I must apologize for my rudeness, Maeri. Sometimes I cannot help myself. May I buy you a pastry in pennance?"
Maeri pushes an errant curl out of her face, setting down her mug. "No need, m'lord."
Edwin says "Mistress Potter? I was awakened this morning by the scent of Henriette's baking. Mince meat tarts, she said...""
Saeran raises an eyebrow at Edwin. "Fortune smiles on you, then, m'Lord." There is almost a hint of a question in the statement as she studies the man. "That sounds grand. Thank you."
Edwin chuckles as he walks over to the bar to retrieve three large tarts from Henriette. "As I said, "I am in favor with Father and Daughter these days. Indeed, I think Logha rides upon my shoulder these days." He pays Henriette for the tarts and returns to you both.
Saeran chuckles. "I'm very glad to hear it, m'Lord. It is a fine thing when the Lady rides your shoulder."
Maeri watches this production with brows lifted, hands folded in her lap with incongruous demureness.
Production. Good description, for everything he does tonight is with such flair and precision, it is as if Edwin were in a theatre production. He passes out the tarts. One even to Maeri, though she had refused him previously. As he delivers Saeran's he gives her a serious, questioning look and mutters.
Edwin mutters to Saeran, "... she..."
Saeran looks at Edwin, too startled to hide the brief, incredulous look of refusal that crosses her face. The reply is one short, sharp shake of the head and the word, 'no!" mouthed rather than spoken. The she turns to the meatpie, flushing slightly herself.
Maeri murmurs a reasonably courteous thanks, though her face remains shuttered. At the exchange she darts Edwin a rather sharp look, and then one of concern at Saeran.
Edwin gives a smile and nods, "You are indeed a gracious soul." He then reaches for Sarean's hand as if to give it a kiss. "But I really should be on my way again. I am expected elsewhere."
Saeran lets the lord take her hand, recovering her composure rapidly. She gives him a raised eyebrow. "Taking your meatpie out gaming with you?" The merry sparkle is back in her eye again.
Edwin nods, kissing her hand, "I must have nourishment." He grins and releases her hand, turning to Maeri, moving as if to take her hand as well. "And tis more business than pleasure tonight, I am afraid."
Maeri surrenders her hand as she might a tooth she was having pulled, in expressionless silence.
Edwin smiles with amusement as he gently kisses Maeri's hand. "A shy woman." He then straightens. "Well...it was a pleasure meeting you, Maeri. And you Saeran, you do me honor, but I should be going." He wraps his tart in a handkerchief and slips it into his pocket.
Saeran smiles at Edwin, her eyes warm. "May Logha stay with you tonight, m'Lord."
Maeri murmurs with distant courtesy, "Evening, m'lord."
Edwin pulls on his gloves and pulls his cloak tightly around him as he heads out the door. "Thank you." He grins.
Edwin has left.
One of the keg boys drives a tap into a fresh ale keg, grumbling something about 'drinkin' it like it was water...'
Saeran watches the man go and shakes her head, grinning faintly. Then recalls herself tothe present and takes a sip of her cider, and a bite of her meat pie. Her eyes widen appreciatively. "Mmm. This is good."
Maeri glances ceilingward as Edwin departs, and turns back to the table. She grins briefly. "Is it?" She pokes at her own.
Saeran takes another bite and glances at you while she chews, then washes it down with cider and nods definitively. "Yes. you should try it. Just because the man is a gambler and a scoundrel is no reason to waste Ettie's good food." She grins.
Maeri lets out a short mirthful laugh. "True." Whereupon she does just that. Her eyebrows go up in appreciation.
Saeran takes another bite of her meatpie and mms appreciatively. "She's got a lovely hand with pastry."
Maeri nods definitely in agreement.
Saeran finishes her cider and the last bite of her meat pie, and sets the cup aside with a sigh and a smile. "So shall I come to your shop to be measured sometime soon?"
Maeri pushes that obstinate curl awkwardly out of her face. "If you want to. I could come over home some evening, maybe, if you'd rather..."
Saeran smiles, looking at her daughter with a rush of tendernass, then glances away to hide it before Maeri can see and get embarassed. She says softly, "I'd like that."
Maeri fiddles with the fringe of her shawl. "All right then."
Saeran nods, then blinks. "I should be off, Mae. It's late, and I'm getting tired."
Maeri straightens and nods. "All right," she says again. "Night, Mother. Take care."
Saeran rises and goes around the table for a farewell embrace.
Maeri hugs her tightly, leaning her cheek against Saeran's shoulder. "Take care now," she repeats.
Saeran hugs tight. "Night, sweetie. You take care too."
Maeri nods. "I will."
Saeran lets go and starts to reach and tuck the curl away, but stops herself in time, smiling instead before she turns away to gather her cloak.
Maeri tucks back the wisp herself, watching her mutely.
Saeran wraps her cloak around her and gives a final glance and smile ofver her shoulder before she disappears into the night.
Saeran moves toward Gate Street.
Saeran has left.