Silver Spoons and Bloodshed (5/6, Midday, Elanor/Ladies of Arbrecht, OPEN]

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

"Thank you all for coming."

Elanor smiled at the gathered women, aware how very out of place it was with her plain black gown and the brother silently awaiting his grave. But there wasn't any time to waste -- she was the Lord of Arbrecht, now, and she needed to jump in both feet first.

Not that it was going to be easy. This was a just a lunch hosted for the women of her province, and already it felt like her stomach was going to fall into her feet. It was practice for the meeting with the lords that would have to come over, and despite the pretty china it was just as much a battlefield. The young woman gave a nod to the servants to start pouring wine, then let her smile fade as she surveyed the table up and down. "I'm glad to get to know you."

Opening preamble finished. The rest of the conversation would depend entirely on what these women wanted to talk about.

[Iridia Harcourt]

Iridia had come on Ian's behest, that she attend to their fallen Province Lord's sister, now presumed Lady of Abrecht. It was customarily something her own mother Iona would attend, but Ian had specifically asked Iridia to go in her place -- and she readily accepted. They both knew the reasoning. It need not be spoken.

"House Harcourt extends it's deepest sympathies to you, in this hour of your mourning, Lady Fitzwulf. I could not imagine the pain I would feel... should I ever lose my own brother," Iridia spoke, her voice level and resolute, her mismatched iris' on Lady Elanor's pale face. She sat adjacent to Elanor, her olive skin dark in comparison to the Province Lady's light complexion. Her long raven hair was braided in a fashionable manner, and Iridia herself was wearing an all-black gown, cut tight to her figure, long bell sleeves and only the slightest hint of Harcourt blue on the hem. It was fitting. They were supposed to be a province in mourning.

Best to look the part.

[Aibhilin Vulferam]

Unfortunately, Aibhilin had to attend this farce. It would do no good for her to show any signs of discord to Elanor Fitzwulf, as everyone presumed she was the Lady of Arbecht now. Aibhilin also wore a black gown, with long black gloves, and walked in, giving one stray look to the woman she knew to be the true presumptive Lady of Arbrecht, Iridia Harcourt. Corbin's betrothed, now that her father had accomplished what he said he could.

"Lady Elanor, thank you for the invitation." Elanor looked small, a mere child, and Aibhilin hoped she would not have to die. Her willingness to accept the mantle of heir put a complication in that, however. It was typical of William Fitzwulf to offer such a farce of line of succession. Elanor would be lucky if her own uncles didn't kill her. "House Vulferam extends its deepest sympathies as well." She had lost siblings, in the plague, and hated that it had to end this way. But it had to end that way for her mother, because of what House Fitzwulf had done to Blanchard.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

Fitzwulf knew who meant their condolences and who did not. Her eyes did not change through the first two; she sat ramrod-straight and waited for the lies to end before fixing them all with a tranquil smile. She would not be angry. No matter how she wanted to be, no matter how the false words stung -- humans could match anger, but no person could overcome a lake or fathomless sea. Anyway, there were other ways to sting back. It simply meant that she needed to take control.

"Mmm. Thank you. I like your brother, Lady Iridia. He has nearly the same personality Jon did." The past tense hurt, too, but she couldn't flinch from it or someone else would use it as an opportunity to deliver more barbs. "And likely means as much to you as Jon meant to me. I hope it's never something you experience past your nightmares." Although it was her dearest wish that at least a few of the Harcourts did experience that pain in nightmares. Often.

She turned steely eyes to Aibhilin, appraising her slowly and long before finally answering. "My thanks to your house as well." She couldn't be so ungracious as to reject the women's "sympathy," but at the same time she had no desire to pander to liars. "But this is bleak talk for a new beginning. I'd rather discuss Arbrecht...what you like, what you don't." Lightly. "Fitzwulfs excluded. I will assume half of you don't like me, cordially return the favor, and with that out of the way hopefully we can move to the matter of the province. Consider yourselves a council. I'm listening."

[Iridia Harcourt]

Iridia said nothing to Elanor's comment about her twin, absently twisting the bracelet upon her wrist. A gift from Isaac. Seldom was Iridia far from the trinkets he bestowed upon her, hoarding them like a pirate of the seas might covet that which he obtained. She did not doubt this woman's grief for her brother -- but Iridia chose not to entertain those thoughts about her twin. Soon enough, the day would come that Isaac would find himself in danger. Iridia didn't wish to toy with those demons, today.

But Elanor's forthrightness was a surprise, and although Iridia's expression did not change, her eyes momentarily flicked to Aibhilin Vulferam, seated nearby. They did not know one another beyond cordial familial acquaintances, but Iridia knew this Vulferam daughter knew as much Iridia did when it came to the plans of their fathers and uncles.

" ... I would say that is no way to start a tea, Lady Fitzwulf, but we are on your territory, after all," Iridia said after a moment, her voice soft and her words carefully chosen. No need to bate the wolf, who already seemed to be bristling. Iridia had assumed the afternoon would be spent extending condolences and talking of -- whatever ladies talked about. Balls, dresses. Babies. Intermixed with sadness, of course, as appropriate, but that Elanor Fitzwulf stylized herself as Queen of Arbrecht was in itself just as absurd, so why not let the conversation take a similar turn? Had Iridia's own brother put her in a similar position, she knew she would rise to the occasion, just as Elanor was attempting to -- but what a precarious situation, it was. And left her all alone on this tiny island full of volatile people. What would happen when they all returned to their rocky coasts, snowy drifts and age-old feuds? The Young Wolves were not so young anymore, most of them dead, the most stalwart remaining being Thomas Fitzwulf, and a certainly dangerous one at that, with his soft eyes and quiet nature. His son Ryan was certainly something to look at and took after the manner of his father, but -- well. Iridia supposed with slight remorse that he probably wasn't long for their world. Elanor had her work cut out for her, and Iridia wondered what angle she intended to play by speaking so candidly with the leading women of Arbrecht. They were the wives and sisters of important men, but women nonetheless. It was intriguing, to say the least.

"But, if you insist, Lady Fitzwulf. I certainly would think it remiss of us all if we were to -- how do they say it? 'Punish the child for the sins of the father.' You were barely a babe when your uncle flung plague ridden corpses over our walls. One cannot blame you for such atrocities." Iridia's dark eyes were leveled upon Elanor's face, careful to keep her tone neutral. Although she was a tempestuous girl herself, there was no need for Iridia to start an unwarranted fight in this parlor -- there was time for that later. After all, she was merely stating facts, as they were.

"I feel as though we should be celebrating the brief but important time your brother held office. I know he was -- attempting to make great strides, in the reuniting of the faith of his bannermen. I can only assume you intend to do the same. That is, after all, what Arbrecht so desperately needs -- unity. They -- the southerners, the forest children of the Mark -- still see us as savages." She paused, glancing from the Hallvador and Montrose women assembled, back to Elanor. "And perhaps rightly so."

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

"Perhaps it isn't a good way to begin a tea." Elanor answered calmly, unfazed by Iridia's speech. "Still, I was taught that if there is an elephant in the room, you introduce it and get it out of the way. It's very kind of you, Lady Iridia, to remember how small I was when the incident happened, but I know there are houses who have no reason to like my own. I can understand that. That said..."

She glanced around the table, a smile on her mouth. "We are daughters of Arbrecht. Lady Iridia is absolutely correct to say that we need unity. We have our differences, all people do; but the men and women of of our province are overwhelmingly intelligent and made of iron. It's not required that all of us become the best of friends but I do hope that we can respect each other enough to cooperate...Please, ladies, eat." Elanor served herself from the tray closest to her, then passed it to the right with another smile. She did not eat just yet, but surveyed the gathered women.

"I have a meeting with the lords later today," she explained. "Generally speaking I'm of the opinion that many minds are better than one. I know I hope for a more unified, stable province, but it's extremely likely that someone else has a better idea for implementing that than I. And "someone else" could very well include another woman -- if you think about it we've only been gleaning ideas from half our population before. Whether we are close friends or not, I don't think there's a single person at this table who doesn't use her mind."

Another smile. "I'm looking forward to hearing what everyone is wearing to the Ball, too, but work comes before play and I will really appreciate any contribution."

[Sepphora Vulferam]

Sepphora remained silent, merely watching the conversation unfold as the poor Fitzwulf attempted to prove herself worthy to be Queen of Arbrecht. She sat next to her eldest living daughter Aibhilin, her other daughters were here as well. The ones who were of proper age of course. Sepphora wouldn't subject her two youngest to a gathering such as this. She dressed the part well wearing a black gown interlaced with crimson red, in honor of her Blanchard blood. Sepphora understood the girl's pain quite well. She had lost both her brothers and her own children. The girl would never understand such a lost a child is to a mother. If the gods are kind to her in the future.

She didn't want to come to this tea but her dear son Conor changed her mind. It was an interesting opportunity to see the Lady Iridia Harcourt. Iridia had a remarkable head on her shoulders. Elanor however wasn't as convincing. This girl wasn't going to last long by her actions alone. Sepphora knew Iridia was right, this child shouldn't bare the sins of her father. It was clear to Sepphora that this girl wasn't going to unite Arbrecht. She lacked the maturity or perhaps lacked the proper training. The girl wasn't a natural leader and rather disappointing to watch. Sepphora expected something more from a daughter of William Fitzwulf, the man who nearly eradicate the House of Blanchard. She had assumed that hateful creature would have educated his daughter better, prepared her for life of a ruling house.

The food in front of her remained untouched. Sepphora lacked a healthy appetite on this occasion. There was too many bitter memories to ignore.

[Sunniva Vulferam]

Sunniva had accompanied her mother Sepphora to the gathering with Elanor. Of course she hadn’t been exactly looking forward to that event, but there was no way around it. She had taken care to dress appropriate for that event. No one should say that the house Vulferam didn’t pay proper deference to Lady Elanor. She had put on a long black silk dress and put a grey scarf around her shoulders. Due to their family’s history Sunniva wasn’t very fond of Lady Elanor, but insulting her would make things only worse. For the moment it was best to smile and pretend everything was fine.

Sunniva listened to her older Sister Aibhilin speaking to Elanor and smiled politely at her. She couldn’t have spoken better. Lady Elanor’s’ answer genuinely surprised her. She hadn’t expected her to be so open and straight forward. A Fitzwulf speaking of a new beginning Elanor couldn’t be so naïve to think that the other houses would forget the past so soon, could she? It almost seemed to Sunniva that Elanor really believed what she said. Sunniva remained wary and listened to Iridia Harcourt’s answer with great interest. She didn’t seem to buy the Lady of Arbrecht’s words completely, although she answered her politely, too politely it seemed to Sunniva. It would be interesting to see what would come out of this meeting, and maybe there would be a chance to exchange a few words with Iridia Harcourt.

Sunniva believed that the Arbrecht needed new faces and new ideas, and of course Iridia Harcourt was right, the province of Arbrecht needed unity, But unity under the rule of someone whose father had done such atrocities? Sunniva didn’t believe that that would work. Sunniva glanced at her mother Sepphira who certainly didn’t seem to have forgotten the past and Sunniva was sure others wouldn’t have either. The League of Arbrecht needed another solution.

[Elisabeth Alysworth]

Tea. Tea with women of the north. Elisabeth had not set forth in Arebrecht in years. Ever since she landed in the boat on the Caelish shore all those years ago, scared and fleeing for her life she had never once looked back on her homeland. She had refused to acknowledge it. And now she had spent half her life on Caelain, married and with her children. She would return there after the gathering at the capital was over. She would go back to the world she was used to, a city by the sea with her beautiful red-headed children in a home full of peace and laughter. Yet slowly as she got to know her niece, with the death of her nephew, her shield had been chipped. Now she was entering a world she had left at seventeen and going back into it brought back memories she didn't wish to have.

She had entered quietly, discreetly, perhaps so much so that it was hardly noticed she was there. When she finally did speak it was after she had taken a sip of her tea. “You have done well assembling us all here Elanor.” She smiled at her. “I am sure my sister will arrive soon. Isabella was never one to be tardy when we were children but I suppose she must have had something that kept her preoccupied.” She sat in a room with a Blanchard. That never proved good.

She was not a lady of Arbrecht anymore but she was the aunt of its new, well assumed province ruler. Taking one of the tarts from the the tray she took a bite. “How are things in the League Elanor? Surely your brother must have given you some indication of what happened in the last meetings so you would get a place to start convening with the banners. Just pride yourself in being honest and straightforward, deceit and connivery is not a way to get those to follow you.”

[Coralie Vulferam]

Coralie didn't enjoy wearing black. These past few years alone had require Coralie to wear one form of black or another. It felt like they were constantly mourning someone who pasted. The color black did dominate her dress this afternoon but there was Vulferam colors of yellow and gray mixed in. Of course this made her vibrate red hair stand out even more. Coralie didn't mind this affect but it grew irksome during this kind of social engagement. She wished to blend into the background but here Coralie was sitting center stage observing the strained conversation.

Elanor was very young true but not that much younger than her sister Sunniva. Coralie thought Elanor should have prepared herself better before hosting this tea. Obviously the girl didn't speak to her Aunts before facing all the important Ladies of Arbrecht. The girl had to have some advisors or guardians appointed by her brother to better prepare her for such a role. The late Jon Fitzwulf did appoint her heir, unless Coralie had her information wrong. Coralie's admired Iridia's control over the conversation. It was clear she was more comfortable than Elanor was at this tea. Of course Coralie didn't know what she thought about the Harcourts in general.

Her mother Sepphora always pointed out how her Blanchard family and the Harcourts were allies. Perhaps Coralie should make a point of getting to know Iridia a little better. She remained silent, only sipping the bland tea while Lady Alysworth spoke. Since her mother Sepphora has yet to utter a single word, Coralie decided to follow in her example.

[Sepphora Vulferam]

Sepphora found herself smiling slightly at Lady Alysworth's words. The last time Sepphora laid eyes on the woman at her wedding to Sepphora's older brother Adelard. That marriage was a short lived affair ending in Adelard untimely and unjustified death. This was not the proper place to bring that sort of thing up. Still the words Lady Elisabeth spoke was very amusing. Fitzwulfs breathe deceit and connivery, it's how they stole Arbrecht from Sepphora's forefathers.

Her eyes moved from Elisabeth to her niece Elanor. It was at this moment Sepphora decided to break her silence. "Arbrecht expects strong leadership. We have sharp eyes for weakness. I'm sure your brother was a good guardian as he was a good husband to my niece Alaine." This was the truth, for despite his Fitzwulf blood Jon had treated Alaine well. "I'm curious about his plans to keep Arbrecht united, we would call ourselves fools if we didn't acknowledge how fragile this peace truly is. The past is hard to ignore when some wounds are still fresh."

[Iridia Harcourt]

Iridia's face remained impassive as she listened to Elanor speak, the frigid pleasantness of her tone as the younger woman's blue eyes moved about the room, trying her best to drink in the assembled ladies, Vulferams in large numbers, Montrose, Hallvador. The Harcourt heir saw what the Lady of Arbrecht was attempting to do, and she commended her for it -- move the conversation outward. Try not to get trapped with this serpent. Iridia could tell that Elanor saw this for what it was -- her place as hostess, the podium upon which she would be delivered her trial by fire; the jurors, all women in black with hearts harboring darker secrets that the hues on their hems.

Elisabeth Alysworth spoke and Iridia had to swallow her feelings of derision towards the woman. A Fitzwulf, a sympathizer, she nonetheless was no longer a woman of the North in Iridia's eyes. Sepphora Vulferam, on the other hand, wore her grievances about her like a thick cloak, that much was certain, even with her bevy of beautiful daughters and nieces somewhat shielding her with their relative ambiguity to the situation. All of this, Iridia soaked in, and kept tucked away in the corners of her mind. Elanor might feel as though she were the only one on display for their scrutiny, but Iridia knew well enough that a day was soon approaching that her own name would be taken up in whispers among their people, and these women, when trying to wager the cost, would think back on this day. This was a day for Iridia to prove her worth, as well -- if not among swords and lances, then on a much more dangerous field -- of clinking tea cups and a formidable battle of wills.

The silver tray of small delicacies had made their way to Iridia, but she dismissed them lightly with a wave of her hand, her focus still upon Sepphora as she spoke. "Some wounds do not heal, Lady Vulferam, of that which you speak is true. But then, to save the body, we must cut ourselves free of gangrenous flesh. Much can be said the same towards our situation in the League." Iridia's dark eyes flicked to Lady Elanor, her expression still cool, in an attempt to back off from their previous provocation of one another. Not now. Not... now.

"Your Lord brother was an ambitious man, Lady Elanor, and it is clear he held you with high regard, considering the privilege he bestowed upon you by rights of inheritance. Surely, he kept you in his confidences. Now I know a leader does not divulge his secrets, and a lady plays her cards even closer to her chest than a man might -- but I assume, given this fragile transition, it must be time to play out some of his greater plans."

Iridia's gaze then shifted to the women assembled, sweeping about them lightly. The terrible truth was that most of the ladies she saw before her were not worth their dowry weight. Insipid, spoiled, privileged women of the elite who could not see past their own monetary sum. But a few... a few, were true iron-blood maidens of the League, women who led in secrecy behind the guise of a husband and others who toiled with their own hands to make their estates and names the ones they were. These were the ones Iridia needed. Let them seek her out. But first, she would entice them.

[Lorelei Linnet]

Lorelei was late. She had received the invitation and hesitated at first to attend the tea. She was no longer a woman of Arbrecht, and her opinion on the matters of the province would not be respected. Or, at least, from what she remembered of Arbrecht, they wouldn’t. But she was a born Fitzwulf, and Elanor was family, and in the end she set her doubt and grief aside and decided to attend.

She stepped into the room, taking stock of those around the table already. She recognized Iridia Harcourt, and the girl, Sunniva, who had been there for her the day before, when the mace had killed Jon and she’d fled from the melee. She nodded slightly towards the woman as she strode in to take her place. Gone was the worry she’d held earlier. Elanor needed her, and Lorelei had always been level headed (unless loud shouting broke out of course).

“Lady Iridia is right,” Lorelei spoke up a she moved to take one of the seats. “Jon brought the province together. It is up to us to ensure it stays that way. You know how the men might look to this as an opportunity,” she glanced at Iridia. Harcourts and Fitzwulfs were not friends. They all knew that. “But perhaps it is time to put the old wounds behind us all.” She reached for her tea up and the honey and spooned the golden syrup into her cup. “What might you propose, Lady Fitzwulf?”

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

Gangrenous flesh? Really? Elanor had let Iridia's earlier snide comment about Arbrechtian civility pass without pointing out that Forsilvra's poor opinion was hardly bolstered by noble ladies who kissed like stable wenches in a hay bale, but she couldn't let this one go. It sounded too much like a threat. Gods above, but she and the Vulferam crow were in it thick together. "Aunt Elizabeth, welcome." Fitzwulf flashed her aunt a brief smile, then turned her gaze back to Sepphora and Iridia, slowly moving her spoon in her teacup. "Unfortunately, Lady Iridia, a nation is not as simple to treat as a body. You can rid yourself of a limb with very little trouble, but people won't accept being cast aside. The "gangrenous flesh," as you so delicately put it, fights back."

She put her spoon down, eyes hard. "I think we can see how well this method works based on the old wounds Lady Vulferam mentioned." It was doubtful she needed to explain this -- in all practical senses her father had considered the Blanchards "gangrenous flesh", and his response to that problem was now a burden of stone on his daughter's shoulders. "I had hoped for a more total cure. I'm glad, my Lady, that you think Jon was a good husband to Alaine, because the truth is that he loved her. That was a start...and now there's still a child."

Only not, but these women didn't need to know that yet. Nobody needed to know. "In all honesty, though, I think Arbrecht could heal without that union if it wanted to do so." And that was the crux of the problem. Arbrecht was narrow-minded and spiteful and held grudges, and that was keeping them from the brink of civilization. It was tiresome. "I wish we couldn't say that it's an ambitious project to keep Arbrecht together, but unfortunately it seems to be the case."

She allowed herself a smile, directing it to Lorelei before letting the older woman speak and taking a breath to answer. "To begin with, I think my brother was absolutely correct in creating his Watch. The system needs some tweaking, but our province has a higher crime rate than any other in the nation. It wastes time and resources and constantly lowers morale, all elements precious to economic growth. If this criminal activity can be stemmed Arbrechtians will have more freedom to pursue other interests...hopefully ones that will increase trade. We have some of the best smithing in Forsilvra and hardly any market for it, but if more people are given opportunities to learn skilled trade and our streets are safer we might find more traffic from other provinces. Which brings me to another idea."

She swung her head to Iridia again. "Lord Isaac Harcourt has a brilliant mind for economics, and he suggested to me that Arbrecht is suffering from a lack of culture. He's hosting a competition this summer, inviting singers and dancers and poets and painters from all over the nation to Arbrecht. The winners will receive generous prizes, and his hope is that it will encourage artistic development among our own people. We have the talent."

[Elisabeth Alysworth]

“Alaine is still with child yes? Then there will be another Fitzwulf then and regardless Alaine will have to be protected until the child is born.” Elisabeth found it strange to note that Jon had loved Alaine. Then again, she had fallen in love with Lydon before she had been promised to a Blanchard. “It is well to see a Fitzwulf and Blanchard union that has gone well. The child will be a first- one of both Blanchard and Fitzwulf blood. A symbol of mending the hurts of the past.” She cast her eyes over to Sepphora. “A new start that I believe is welcomed by all.” She turned her eyes to her niece once more. She had hoped her sister would show but Isabella must have otherwise remained occupied.

She took a sip of her tea, cooling it a little before she swallowed it. Yet it was good to see her other niece, Lorelei, although the girl had wed her southern husband and had spent her life now in Ahestere. It seemed they were both similar- yet Elisabeth had gone to the shores of Caelain. “That Elanor would be an excellent idea. Have you discussed matters with the King? At least if you hold a fair perhaps some of the work of the those in Arbrecht can be show cased. It would do much for the north for people to know they are not as hard around the edges as others think.” She remembered when she had first came to Porthaeron how others had thought of her as fierce- having children quickly had probably enforced that rumor. “What of the other families? They all have their talents as well and I am sure have much to offer.” She'd ignore that comment about gangrenous flesh. There was a Blanchard not far from her that she often thought of like that....but Elisabeth would not make a comment. This was Elanor's moment and she was not going to ruin it with childish fighting.

[Lorelei Linnet]

Lorelei nodded her agreement. Elanor had her head on her shoulders and the suggestions were good ones. “I agree with the fair. And don’t forget, that while far away, Ahestere has gone out of her way to forge connections with the north. My own marriage is one, and House Halvador and Linnet have ties as well. We can continue to strengthen those bonds, and all of Forsilvra lies in between us. But you are right about the crime in the North.

“All the lords need to bond together though and agree on the solution. I respect Jon, and his memory, but if the watch is not supported by the whole, then the other lords will look at them as enemies rather than friends, as something created to keep Fitzwulf control over their lands. The Fitzwulfs are still seen as brutal, no matter how Jon was. What my uncle did, well, is burned into the memories of many, and a watch created by the Fitzwulf would only be viewed in that manor. Why not suggest a joint force, with knightly volunteers from all the houses, to work together to reduce the crime in Arbrecht? Something all the lords and people can feel is a positive thing?”

Lorelei lifted her tea and smiled at Elisabeth. It seemed to her, at least, that the women of House Fitzwulf had far more open eyes than the men. Perhaps it was time that Elanor, with Alaine’s help, decide the fate of the province that had been so dominated by men for so long.

[Arianne Montrose]

Arianne had entered during an especially tense moment. This was not the scenario she had been expecting. Not at all. But, of course she should have expected the wax and wane of a power struggle in the wake of a funeral when the Northern lands were concerned.

Such ideas! It was good to hear that civility and culture were of concern but even Arianne knew that poetry and music would not be the stitching between these lands.

Her opinion was held firm on her tongue as she slid over and sat down. A quick glance was thrown over her shoulder to see whoever else was in attendance, noting that her daughter had not seen it as an obligation to attend.

She chose wine over tea. They all knew she’d had her fair share of silver spoons.

Someone gave her a disapproving glance. Arianne let them. She was here as a Montrose. She’d been one now for twenty five years. She had every right to be here… She turned back toward the Fitzwulf, her nose up proudly as she took her place as the Countess of the Green.

She even spoke. Her voice prefaced with a slight clearing of her throat, ,”If I might speak?” and of course this was only intended as an inference of manners. This pleasantry was coated with a sip before she progressed with her own opinion, “But why is crime so abundant? The roots of this problem go deeper than watching and waiting…Guarding. Brotherhood starts from within. Pride has a way of branching. The fair should be but why not highlight the strengths of the north!”

[Iridia Harcourt]

Iridia said nothing at first, sipping lightly at the tea held delicately between her fingers. The liquid was still scalding hot, and it burned her lips, but she found she rather liked it -- much like the burning look Elanor Fitzwulf was sending her from across the room. One thin eyebrow raised on Iridia's face incredulously at the mention of Jon and Alaine's 'loving' marriage, but she said nothing. She was sure it was a match of compassion. As much as a woman taken prisoner with her slaughtered brothers left behind could be... a veritable love story.

It was the remark about her brother that nearly rocked Iridia from the delicate perch she was maintaining. Isaac?

She knew her twin had exchanged words with the Fitzwulf spawn. And she had made it markedly clear exactly how she felt about it. He had tried to persuade her, but Iridia had it obvious where his loyalties should lie -- and he had listened. But this? This highlighted a part of a conversation of greater depth than he had intimated. She would have to choose her next words carefully.

"I would say that my twin has a greater affinity for chasing skirts than for the particular intricacies of the Arbrechtian economy, but I suppose that is the sister in me speaking," Iridia began lightly with a little laugh, making sure to flash a bright smile to set them at ease -- merely a jest, her words could be taken as that of a loving, doting sibling. "But he has mentioned this particular idea to me as well, and I have to say I support such an endeavor. Such a gathering can only draw positive attention from our neighboring provinces and espouse the general sense of comradery we all acknowledge we are sincerely lacking in."

Iridia paused, letting her mismatched eyes make their way back to Elanor's face. "But this can all be developed in a relatively quick fashion. And although it is important to propel such visions forward, it seems to me the immediate stability of our faltering nation lays upon the safety of its citizens. In that sense, I think the creation of a Watch is an excellent idea, Lady Elanor. Comprised of our best men from our best households, such a force would be symbolic of Arbrecht's unification. Your remaining uncle would be perfect to spearhead such a training endeavor." Iridia paused, taking another calculated sip of her tea. Let them plot. Little good it would do.

"Still, you are quite right, Lady Arianne," she continued, her eyes then moving to the delicate wisp of a Montrose. "We must find the roots of these problems, rather that attempt to hold them at bay. What creates such elevated crime in our fair province? That is a question I wonder if any of us can truly answer... but it is certainly worth looking in to rather than smoothing over. Clip the weeds, and they grow back. Tear out the tuber itself, and your problem is solved."

Iridia liked that idea. Rip out the roots, however few may be left...

[Aibhilin Vulferam]

Aibhilin sat back, mostly listening. It wasn't as if she didn't have ideas for the future of the province, oh, that she did, but she knew where to share them. With the future of the province. Elanor seemed to know who her friends and enemies were, but it was no matter - Aibhilin knew the same for her House. She spent much of her time watching Iridia Harcourt, appraising the woman - she'd have to get used to the idea, after all.

The Fitzwulfs married off were an interesting case. Elisabeth, now some Lady of a banner in Caelain, and if one believed the stories, Aibhilin's Uncle's killer. Aibhilin wasn't sure she believed the stories, as by all counts William Fitzwulf was no more happy with the end result than the Blanchards were. And Lady Linnet, Province Lady - all of these people could prove important in the coming months. Certainly, Aibhilin had no interest in this event on its face, but it could prove very useful indeed.

[Elisabeth Alysworth]

It was good to see her niece here. Elisabeth smiled at Lorelei. They were nearly ten years apart but the girl had done well for herself, marrying the Lord of Arbrecht. She wondered how she could stand the heat. Elisabeth figured the transition from Caelain to Arbrecht was not at all a hard one but to go from Arbrecht from Ahestere was a major change. “How are your daughters Lorelei? They are all truly beautiful. I saw them with your husband the other day. He is a wonderful father.” She commented at her niece, smiling. Her brother Odo may have not been as horrible as William was- but still she was here to support her niece. She was still trying to look past the fact that the girl was William's child.

However at the mention of crime Elisabeth merely gave a laugh. Arianne Montrose may have made a good suggestion but why should it have been Elanor's responsibility? “Well certainly if crime is so abundant in your cities, to me that seems to me a problem of the quality of the leadership itself. My husband has hardly any problems with crime in Porthaeron and when he does, it is dealt with accordingly. Instead of wasting money on a guard, why not address the problem in your families on city first and then if it is not fixed, then bring up the idea of a guard. Arbrecht is not made of money my good ladies.” She stated, plain and simple. “A banner lord's duty is to rule over his own city is it not? Perhaps it would be wise for the lords of all your respect cities to address the problems of crime themselves first. A council perhaps could convene together to implement standards that can be set for all the cities of Arbrecht. Not this unnecessary creation of a watch that costs more money which I presume most come from my niece which I assuming you are expecting the Fitzwulfs to foot the cost of such an endeavor. If a watch is to be made, then money must come from all the families that are going to have people in it.” Of course she didn't have much money problems herself- the Alysworths were perhaps the richest family on Caelain but she didn't sprout that fact off yourself.

“Elanor have you looked into other provinces as well for ideas? Lacharn, Ahestere, or even Caelain? You could meet with the lords there to see how tasks and skills there are handled. I am sure it is not something that can be universally prescribed to Arbrecht but learning of other lands will extend the provinces diplomatic relations and culture.”

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

((I apologize in advance if any of this is out of order, nonsensical, or I missed someone. I had a lot to reply to and wrote this out without having the thread right in front of me, but I promise I did my best. Thank you all for your involvement in Silver Spoons!))

By the tempests, Iridia was clever. It made her dangerous, but fortunately for Elanor the other woman was not opaque. Lady Fitzwulf clearly had enemies, but her blessing was that she recognized them. It was possible she would survive this...although in some aspects it was truly a shame. There was some measure of honor involved with having formidable enemies, but the potential consequences and the loss of what could have been formidable friends was only saddening. "Truly, Lady Iridia? Your brother was very articulate about economic policy; I was impressed. Still, I suppose siblings aren't complete without some good-natured ribbing."

Elanor turned to Arianne, respect in her eyes. The woman might not have been born in the north, but a person couldn't survive it that long without earning the right to be counted. "I do think you're right, Lady Montrose. And I think Arbrecht has a lot to show, however, we don't encourage it. People who are not obviously warriors are often denigrated as weak, when in truth a man's courage and his propensity for violence do not always go hand in hand. I'd like to encourage the former and not the latter, which is the main purpose for this fair. I want what artists we do have to feel celebrated instead of shunned; bringing the foreign talent makes it plain that Arbrecht approves of such craft. I'm not limiting the competitions to painting and poetry, either. I'd like to see more of both in our province, of course, but we do already have wonderful artists. Our goldsmiths, for starters, and armorers and shipwrights -- what they make is practical and the best in the nation, but they are also beautiful. I'm considering a contest division just for these Arbrechtian craftsmen, in categories: gold, armor, swords, wood, ships. The best in each category can fairly be called the best in the province and even the world, for I doubt other provinces have such things as finely made. As for crime..."

She paused, face unchanging despite Iridia's second threatening phrase. "I believe there are a few factors. Arbrecht is a hard land and earning a living from it can be challenging. The plague didn't help, and although it is ended we still have unforgiving winters and thin soil. Most of our citizens are poor, and poverty can lead to desperation. Secondly..."

This one was a little dangerous, and Elanor hesitated before she pressed her palm down on the table and ended frankly. "I think part of the problem is the cult of the Hero. I understand it is a large part of our culture, and I don't want to end it, but it encourages violence among its initiates and that mindset has spread to a larger society. It's so ingrained that people rarely think twice about hurting others. There will always be bloodthirsty men, but the glory we give to battle has corrupted some who would otherwise be average people. It's time to focus our energy on creation and not destruction. So."

She turned her gaze around the table, looking every woman in the eyes. "Mindsets only change slowly. But I have a place to begin." Elanor's voice became brisk. "I plan to lower Westerland's taxes. In my case I think thirty percent will ease my people's burdens while still providing enough for the region, at least for a few years. Other lords are welcome to do as they like, but I ask them to consider lowering their own just a little. This will let our economy recover a bit; even if it unwise to continue the practice very long it seems only fair to offer people a chance to find their feet again. I plan to also introduce wardens for our game and forests and land, perhaps provide goats and reindeer so every village at least has access to milk and meat. We're not in danger now, but what resources we have are not as abundant as some other places and it is in our best interest to start tending to them now. With some prevention we'll never need a cure. Finally, we come to the Watch."

Elanor smiled at Lorelei, her pretty cousin and now the province Lady of Ahestere. "Lady Linnet has the right of it. Jon's idea will be a blessing to Arbrecht, but it doesn't belong to Fitzwulfs alone. Everyone will benefit from lowered crime, every kingdom and every lord and every village. So while Lady Iridia is very kind to suggest the project be led by my Uncle Thomas, I had someone else in mind. Namely Alexander Harcourt, possibly with the assistance of Thomas Fitzwulf and Bruce Montrose. They are all intelligent and honorable men, and I believe that for such a cause they would give great service. Is this not so?"

She looked brightly at Iridia, the very picture of innocence.

[Lorelei Linnet]

There were some who would protest the idea of getting rid of the cult. Some of the diehard followers. It would make for a religious war on top of whatever else her cousin had to fight. But Elanor was right. Her own father was a devote follower of the cult, and she and her mother had born the brunt of that believe. It did encourage violence, and in this time they needed to find a way to work for peace. All of them.

“I agree with Elanor. The cult is dangerous and violent. It will not be easy to eradicate them. The named men will fight hard. But it must be done. Arbrecht must be seen as a loyal group of houses who follow the king’s laws and wish to strive to better their people. There can be no other way.”

Alexander Harcourt? Was it a good idea for Elanor to trust someone not of House Fitzwulf? Lorelei wasn’t so sure of that, but it did send a message to House Harcourt that she wanted to work with them. Lorelei couldn’t refute that, and certainly not in front of everyone. “I’m sure House Vulferam with all those men will be able to provide as well.” Was all she said.

[Madelaine Blanchard]

Madelaine was dressed in black, as much as she hated it. She wanted to dress in Blanchard red, not mourn the death of some Fitzwulf. Her father would have hated to see the whole province mourn, no matter how much nearly every banner House had hated William Fitzwulf. But he was gone, and Madelaine a ward, and she couldn't have talk.

Madelaine listened carefully, not saying much, not really having any desire to treat with Elanor Fitzwulf, fancying herself leader of all of them. She looked around at all of them, wondering how they could even stand this.

She nearly rolled her eyes at her talk of lowering taxes to get the smallfolk on her side, but she couldn't show any sign. She fidgeted a bit, eating a bit of food, but mostly this was just uncomfortable. It was not any less uncomfortable when Elanor suggested rooting out the Hero. Oh, sure, that would go over well.

[Elanor Fitzwulf]

"Wait a moment," Elanor cautioned. "I didn't intend to eradicate the Hero; he is an important part of Arbrecht and one I would be loath to destroy. I was simply thinking of encouraging other branches and methods of worship, ones that are more accessible to the general population. Let time do the rest. I'm eager for a more peaceful province, and I doubt banning a celebrated faith is the way to reach that goal."

[Kenna Merrick]

She was late. Very late. And she didn’t care that she was very late.

She stepped in the door in time to listen to Elanor’s speech and Lorelei’s agreement and then moved to cross to the table.

“Elanor is right. Eradicating will start another war that Arbrecht doesn’t need. But if the ruling houses choose to support another religion, even Quintism, the Hero Cult will shrink and die and it’s own.”

Kenna liked Quintism. Growing up in the capital, she’d been surrounded by it all her life. The gods made more sense than looking to a mortal hero for protection.

[Elisabeth Alysworth]

Lowering taxes? Well that certainly was a start. Of course Elisabeth had never had much money problems. Porthaeron was a bustling port and the richest of the cities in Caelain. Money had never really been an issue for her. Sitting in her seat, she didn't make a move towards any of the food or even towards her tea. “The Hero is not the cause of problems in Arbrecht. Its lords are, more importantly what you teach your children. Do you think Caelain has these types of problems? Fitzwulfs were raised to hate Blanchards just as I am sure a Harcourt is taught from birth to hate a Fitzwulf too since they were so closely allied with the Blanchards. But Arbrecht is heading for a new age. It is time to set your judgments aside. Would all us here wish to teach our children as your parents taught you?” She asked kindly. “If you want change in Arbrecht start with your families, your people.”

[Iridia Harcourt]

Ah, clever. Lowering taxes. So there was a bit of a politician growing within little Elanor. But just as Iridia thought she might have to momentarily concede this particular victory to Lady Fitzwulf, she continued on with her reassessment of the Cult of the Hero, and Iridia couldn't help but smile to herself behind the safety of her teacup. Iridia, of course, was not indoctrinated in that sheep-worship of the Hero; she had always privately observed the Gods of the Mark, older spirits that were ingrained in the land, something Iridia saw as at least, less, far-fetched than the Hero. But that was no matter. Altering taxes and creating a summons for a Watch was one thing; but toying with the feverish cult of the Hero, grounds upon which Arbrecht stood? Foolish.

But for now, Iridia would leave the religion question alone. Lady Linnet's heated response and Kenna Merrick's interjection said enough to those skeptical about altering such a time-honored cultural monument; already Iridia could feel the room dividing.

"I believe my Uncle would be greatly honored with such a position, Lady Fitzwulf; and it would certainly do well to acknowledge the military prowess the Harcourt family has maintained within Fyrsbruck," Iridia said lightly, her lips slightly curved. Of course both women knew she was bluffing -- Alexander Harcourt would never take such an offer, not without Ian's support, of which Iridia knew her father would never give.

"Lady Alysworth, I believe you to be completely right -- the Cult is not the origin of our problems. But I find it rather questionable to say we were all -- how did you phrase it? Raised to hate our fellow lords. Most of us present were still in swaddling clothes, or just out of it, when our fathers and grandparents were involved in the War of Arbrecht, but that doesn't mean it isn't still fresh in our minds. You speak the truth when it is time to create change, with our families, and our generation -- but look at what was wrought when our own parents attempted to do the same? Things took a decidedly foul turn."

"Each step from here must be... calculated. We wouldn't want a repeat of what put us in this position in the first place..."

[Lorelei Linnet]

Iridia Harcourt was as well spoken woman. Lorelei would give her that. The younger woman’s words were carefully selected and Lorelei could not tell for sure exactly what she meant by what she said, but she gathered that Iridia Harcourt did few the Fitzwulfs much the same as the generations before her, and she wondered if the woman would truly teach her children differently. Well, she could hope that Iridia wed off the province and took those ideas into a family that didn’t care one way or the other about Fitzwulf or Blanchard or Harcourt.

Her eyes swept to Madalaine. The girl’s face was a mask but Lorelei had to wonder what she thought of all of this, considering she had been so very young when Fitzwulf destroyed her house. Did she hate Elanor and Lorelei simply because of their name? Lorelei couldn’t blame her. Perhaps she’d see if the girl needed a friend in the very near future.

“Lower taxes would be a good start. Lessening the influence of the cult as well. But teaching our children that we are all one province, one kingdom, and that we all work together to keep peace for King Adrien is a wonderful idea. Perhaps we should have our children spend more time in each other’s company, so that they might grow up friends instead of enemies.”