Post by Lady Rosalind Avalle on Dec 8, 2008 11:51:21 GMT -6
The gardens were lonely in this cold season, abandoned by the usual revelers as they went in search of warmer shelter. Yet it was precisely for this reason that Rosalind sought them out. She believed herself capable of bearing any burden, adept at disguising her inner fatigue, and if she was not successful in the first, she knew in the second she had neared perfection. Rosalind was not the kind of woman who revealed her emotions easily, yet she was as warm and approachable as any other lady. Yet today -- today, for the first time, she felt brittle. She bundled up in her warmest clothes and took her letters into the gardens, found a bench, and for what felt like the first time in years, gave herself a moment of self-pity.
Winter was not a season that Liliana was fond of. Her Father had always teased her that the love of warmth had been given to her by her Mother. Liliana had never been anywhere that was particularly warmer than usual, but had heard of such places. She had grown used to the cold and rain, common with most of the places she'd lived, though would never like the former. Though she adored rain! Though she should likely be inside, warm and coddled, Liliana was wandering the gardens with a shawl wrapped about her shoulders to keep some of the chill at bay. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and a contemplative look on her face as she walked slowly. This was how she came upon Rosalind. Chocolate eyes took in the stature of the woman, a woman who Liliana thought to be very strong, and worry shot through her. Liliana's own problems were pushed aside as she walked forward,"Rosalind...are you well?" Afraid to intrude upon her friends privacy, she stayed a few steps away, though watched her with concern.
She straightened at the sound of footsteps and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. She put quick order to her thoughts, but pretending she had not been crying, and attempting to hide the letters, would be insulting to Liliana's intelligence. She looked up at the woman and smiled, then gestured to the empty side of her bench. "Please, sit." Rosalind had taken to heart the lessons of a proper lady, and even her hair was bundled up out of sight, hidden beneath an off-white linen wimple. The thickness of her clothes provided enough warmth that she had little need for a cloak. She studied Liliana, her gaze lingering on the lady, whom Rosalind considered everything that she was not. Inwardly strong, Liliana had no need to put on a mask day after day. She wondered if there was any deception in the woman, any reason to deceive, even by lies of omission. It was wrong of her to judge, and the sudden thought made her cheeks flame. "Oh, I have been better. I cannot seem to remember when, but I am certain I was, at one point, well." A quick smile that sparked her warm hazel eyes, but cooled just as swiftly. "Might I trouble you for some advice?"
It was not hard to see that Rosalind was not herself. It did not take intelligence to figure it out really. Liliana had not known the woman long, but something of the way she'd been sitting had set off a bell. It did not seem like her. Though not a word was spoken. She would not point out the tears or anything else. Liliana was polite and saw that as rude. Taking a seat next to Rosalind, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, she listened to her friend. If Liliana had known Rosalind thought her inwardly strong, she'd have been stunned. Though she'd changed, grown even, Liliana saw herself as weak still. Smiling warmly, chocolate eyes connecting with Rosalind's own gaze, Liliana stated simply,"As we are friends, so I hope, you may ask me for advice. Or you may vent your feelings and ask for none. I am fine with either."
She laughed softly. "I am tempted to do both." With a sigh, she glanced down at the letters. Everything she did seemed to be done with purpose. To do something without weeks of forethought was unnatural to her, but -- she felt it in her heart -- it was a necessary step in attaining her freedom. Even that seemed selfish to her. She knew what jeopardy she could place her new friend in if she vented all the events of the past several months and even years. Though she had not been born one, she was nevertheless a Campbell. It made her pause. She held out her hand for Liliana's, and once it was in her own, squeezed it. "I am afraid that I have perhaps been brash in my opinions. I should have applied salve, and instead, I used salt. I fear I can never repair what I've broken. I have run out of patience to mend it, and worse, my rage is such that I would rather see it remain broken." She stared thoughtfully into Liliana's eyes. "I should be more caring, but I am spiteful and bitter. I should be more accommodating, but it seems all I can do is rage. How does one let it go, when one feels justified in it? Vindicated in it?" She shook her head slowly. "These letters, Lili -- these letters are proof of all that is ill in Scotland. Grief that binds us to a path we would rather not tread, anger that denies us easier solutions, pride that refuses anything but complete capitulation. But I am as guilty as any, I suppose. I am nothing more than a hypocrite. God's wounds," she exclaimed, her tone of bitterness turning to astonishment with the oath. "I'll talk your ears off."
How many times had Liliana heard it said that the best way to heal was to talk? After her Father and Beth had been killed, Liliana had not spoken on it. She had bottled it inside. Left it to ferment. Until it grew into an ugly mold that made life unbearable. The same had been done with the story of her captivity, something she was not fully over, but it had helped to tell someone. Liliana did not know what to say as Rosalind confessed to feelings that would shock most. It sounded as if she described another woman. Liliana did not see any of this upon looking at her friend, but it was clear a mask was worn. "Guilty of what, Rosalind?" She did not comment on anything else and only grinned a bit more upon her last words. "Then they are yours to talk off. What bothers you so that it creates another you?"
She shook her head slowly. "I am not sure how much you know of Clan Lamont's affairs, nor how much you should know. It is a sad tale. And my part of it, it is perhaps best forgotten. That is what I hide." She inhaled deeply and released her breath slowly, recalling a similar, more heated conversation with the one directly responsible for what had happened. She was not a violent person, but she could have been. She could have easily inflicted physical harm upon him, and relished in his pain. She bit her lip to still the icy shiver threatening to run its way down her body. After a while, she eased back on the bench. The words she spoke next were for Liliana's ears alone. Rosalind gently returned the squeeze to the lady's hand, but despite the strength Lili's unconditional support lent her, her next words were spoken only with great difficulty. She forced them out in a single breath, each syllable delivered in a harsh sotto voce.
"Fearghus Lamont wishes to restore Inveryne. God forgive him, but he will take it. I know not how he will defend it, or with what money he manages this feat, but it will happen." She was not very clear, and she knew this. There were so many details she had left out, but surely Liliana would see what danger this posed to her as a Campbell.
"Will there be ... war?" Skye had matters with Maubrey, ones that could get ugly, and Kendrew would fight for that. Yet, he was a Campbell...and that likely meant he'd have to go to aid them if so. Where did Rosalind stand in it all though? Her worry for her friend came forth to merge with worry for her husband. It all seemed much. Yet, she did not ask another question. Rosalind would speak as she would and Liliana would not pry anything out of her.
Rosalind was not so cold-hearted as to miss the implications her news would have upon Liliana. She held the lady's hand firmly. "Look at me, Lili," she whispered. "I have followers yet. Lamont will reclaim Inveryne. But I remember the Campbell hospitality. My life was saved not once but twice by your husband's clan. If he does not know, you must tell him -- his clan is spread thin by the Bruce, divided by politics, and it will make easy fodder for vengeful Lamonts." The breath seemed to die within her at those words, but they were spoken, and could not be unsaid. "I have never betrayed Lamont. Never. I lost everything to protect what was mine, and I have spent too long searching for vengeance." She blinked slowly. "That is why I am a hypocrite. And I am breaking this cycle even if it is at my expense. Please, I need secrecy just a few weeks longer, through the Yule. Tell your husband that Lamont still lives. He will find out soon enough when news of Inveryne's fall reaches Skye. But of what else I have spoken...."
Liliana's chocolate gaze met Rosalind's, strength that even she did not know of shining from them, as she listened to her friend. "I will tell my husband. I cannot keep such information from him." Squeezing Rosalind's hand, she shook her head,"As for that, it is not my secret to tell. Even if you gave me permission. You are my friend and that is safe, always. Nothing will change it." Liliana wanted Rosalind to know, to be positive, that even if there was bad blood between the Lamonts and Campbells, there would never be between them. She would have to, of course, tell Kendrew that Lamont still lives. Just as Rosalind stated it. If he asked how she knew? Well, Liliana was not sure what to say on that.
She smiled in relief. "If it causes difficulty for you, I am sorry. Believe me, it was not of my doing." Humor lit her eyes, and for the first time since Liliana discovered her, she seemed a little more like her lively self. Rosalind thought about the competitive natures of both her fallen husband and the late Lord Dunstaffnage, of hunting games gone awry and the eventual spirit of bonhomie that had defined the new generation of Lamont and Campbell men. It was gone, replaced by a bitter blood feud that fueled Fearghus Lamont's homicidal dream of wiping Clan Campbell from the map of Scotland. Were it not for Campbell, who was to say what her life would be like today? But for a clan that had shown remarkable cruelty to her people, they had also shown considerable compassion. Was it treason to warn of the inevitable chaos that would sweep all clans, even those with long-standing agreements for mutually-assured annihilation? She moved the thoughts through her mind only after moving the chess piece. She could not reverse words already spoken. As she listened to Lili's concerned line of questions, and responded with absolute truth, Rosalind also carefully evaluated the effects of this conversation and steeled herself for whatever would follow, from the author of the letters in her hand to those she had come to honor and respect since her arrival in Skye.
"Rosalind, if you ever find need for aid you need only send a letter. Feud be damned, I will never turn you away." She knew it would likely cause problems, but did not care at present. Liliana was not as weak as some thought and as days passed any reason to make one think so slowly vanished. She was becoming more like the women of Skye. Kendrew had even got a taste of her stubbornness.
She grinned. That statement only confirmed how strong Rosalind believed Lili was. "Nor I you. Whatever our fortunes, I value my friendships more than politics. Come, let us go inside where it is warmer -- I've been sitting still for too long." Rosalind thought it would be crass to thank her friend for listening to her vent. It did not seem to need mentioning, which was a bit strange, she admitted. She had so few true friends, though. "Are you hungry?" she asked, trying for her sanity to shove some of her troubles back into the box by settling on a neutral topic. Everyone loved food, and now that she thought about it, she was famished.
There were other matters to discuss, happy news to exchange that had nothing to do with the affairs of Scotland. Though Campbell and Lamont they might have been, there were bonds more powerful than lines on maps, loyalties more important than the mortal struggles of men. The chill in the gardens chased them indoors toward food and warmth, and walking arm-in-arm, Liliana's unquenchably happy spirits chased Rosalind's rage into the shadows, and there remained neglected. Unburdened with the heavy events of late, even Rosalind's uneven steps felt lightened.
Winter was not a season that Liliana was fond of. Her Father had always teased her that the love of warmth had been given to her by her Mother. Liliana had never been anywhere that was particularly warmer than usual, but had heard of such places. She had grown used to the cold and rain, common with most of the places she'd lived, though would never like the former. Though she adored rain! Though she should likely be inside, warm and coddled, Liliana was wandering the gardens with a shawl wrapped about her shoulders to keep some of the chill at bay. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and a contemplative look on her face as she walked slowly. This was how she came upon Rosalind. Chocolate eyes took in the stature of the woman, a woman who Liliana thought to be very strong, and worry shot through her. Liliana's own problems were pushed aside as she walked forward,"Rosalind...are you well?" Afraid to intrude upon her friends privacy, she stayed a few steps away, though watched her with concern.
She straightened at the sound of footsteps and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. She put quick order to her thoughts, but pretending she had not been crying, and attempting to hide the letters, would be insulting to Liliana's intelligence. She looked up at the woman and smiled, then gestured to the empty side of her bench. "Please, sit." Rosalind had taken to heart the lessons of a proper lady, and even her hair was bundled up out of sight, hidden beneath an off-white linen wimple. The thickness of her clothes provided enough warmth that she had little need for a cloak. She studied Liliana, her gaze lingering on the lady, whom Rosalind considered everything that she was not. Inwardly strong, Liliana had no need to put on a mask day after day. She wondered if there was any deception in the woman, any reason to deceive, even by lies of omission. It was wrong of her to judge, and the sudden thought made her cheeks flame. "Oh, I have been better. I cannot seem to remember when, but I am certain I was, at one point, well." A quick smile that sparked her warm hazel eyes, but cooled just as swiftly. "Might I trouble you for some advice?"
It was not hard to see that Rosalind was not herself. It did not take intelligence to figure it out really. Liliana had not known the woman long, but something of the way she'd been sitting had set off a bell. It did not seem like her. Though not a word was spoken. She would not point out the tears or anything else. Liliana was polite and saw that as rude. Taking a seat next to Rosalind, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, she listened to her friend. If Liliana had known Rosalind thought her inwardly strong, she'd have been stunned. Though she'd changed, grown even, Liliana saw herself as weak still. Smiling warmly, chocolate eyes connecting with Rosalind's own gaze, Liliana stated simply,"As we are friends, so I hope, you may ask me for advice. Or you may vent your feelings and ask for none. I am fine with either."
She laughed softly. "I am tempted to do both." With a sigh, she glanced down at the letters. Everything she did seemed to be done with purpose. To do something without weeks of forethought was unnatural to her, but -- she felt it in her heart -- it was a necessary step in attaining her freedom. Even that seemed selfish to her. She knew what jeopardy she could place her new friend in if she vented all the events of the past several months and even years. Though she had not been born one, she was nevertheless a Campbell. It made her pause. She held out her hand for Liliana's, and once it was in her own, squeezed it. "I am afraid that I have perhaps been brash in my opinions. I should have applied salve, and instead, I used salt. I fear I can never repair what I've broken. I have run out of patience to mend it, and worse, my rage is such that I would rather see it remain broken." She stared thoughtfully into Liliana's eyes. "I should be more caring, but I am spiteful and bitter. I should be more accommodating, but it seems all I can do is rage. How does one let it go, when one feels justified in it? Vindicated in it?" She shook her head slowly. "These letters, Lili -- these letters are proof of all that is ill in Scotland. Grief that binds us to a path we would rather not tread, anger that denies us easier solutions, pride that refuses anything but complete capitulation. But I am as guilty as any, I suppose. I am nothing more than a hypocrite. God's wounds," she exclaimed, her tone of bitterness turning to astonishment with the oath. "I'll talk your ears off."
How many times had Liliana heard it said that the best way to heal was to talk? After her Father and Beth had been killed, Liliana had not spoken on it. She had bottled it inside. Left it to ferment. Until it grew into an ugly mold that made life unbearable. The same had been done with the story of her captivity, something she was not fully over, but it had helped to tell someone. Liliana did not know what to say as Rosalind confessed to feelings that would shock most. It sounded as if she described another woman. Liliana did not see any of this upon looking at her friend, but it was clear a mask was worn. "Guilty of what, Rosalind?" She did not comment on anything else and only grinned a bit more upon her last words. "Then they are yours to talk off. What bothers you so that it creates another you?"
She shook her head slowly. "I am not sure how much you know of Clan Lamont's affairs, nor how much you should know. It is a sad tale. And my part of it, it is perhaps best forgotten. That is what I hide." She inhaled deeply and released her breath slowly, recalling a similar, more heated conversation with the one directly responsible for what had happened. She was not a violent person, but she could have been. She could have easily inflicted physical harm upon him, and relished in his pain. She bit her lip to still the icy shiver threatening to run its way down her body. After a while, she eased back on the bench. The words she spoke next were for Liliana's ears alone. Rosalind gently returned the squeeze to the lady's hand, but despite the strength Lili's unconditional support lent her, her next words were spoken only with great difficulty. She forced them out in a single breath, each syllable delivered in a harsh sotto voce.
"Fearghus Lamont wishes to restore Inveryne. God forgive him, but he will take it. I know not how he will defend it, or with what money he manages this feat, but it will happen." She was not very clear, and she knew this. There were so many details she had left out, but surely Liliana would see what danger this posed to her as a Campbell.
"Will there be ... war?" Skye had matters with Maubrey, ones that could get ugly, and Kendrew would fight for that. Yet, he was a Campbell...and that likely meant he'd have to go to aid them if so. Where did Rosalind stand in it all though? Her worry for her friend came forth to merge with worry for her husband. It all seemed much. Yet, she did not ask another question. Rosalind would speak as she would and Liliana would not pry anything out of her.
Rosalind was not so cold-hearted as to miss the implications her news would have upon Liliana. She held the lady's hand firmly. "Look at me, Lili," she whispered. "I have followers yet. Lamont will reclaim Inveryne. But I remember the Campbell hospitality. My life was saved not once but twice by your husband's clan. If he does not know, you must tell him -- his clan is spread thin by the Bruce, divided by politics, and it will make easy fodder for vengeful Lamonts." The breath seemed to die within her at those words, but they were spoken, and could not be unsaid. "I have never betrayed Lamont. Never. I lost everything to protect what was mine, and I have spent too long searching for vengeance." She blinked slowly. "That is why I am a hypocrite. And I am breaking this cycle even if it is at my expense. Please, I need secrecy just a few weeks longer, through the Yule. Tell your husband that Lamont still lives. He will find out soon enough when news of Inveryne's fall reaches Skye. But of what else I have spoken...."
Liliana's chocolate gaze met Rosalind's, strength that even she did not know of shining from them, as she listened to her friend. "I will tell my husband. I cannot keep such information from him." Squeezing Rosalind's hand, she shook her head,"As for that, it is not my secret to tell. Even if you gave me permission. You are my friend and that is safe, always. Nothing will change it." Liliana wanted Rosalind to know, to be positive, that even if there was bad blood between the Lamonts and Campbells, there would never be between them. She would have to, of course, tell Kendrew that Lamont still lives. Just as Rosalind stated it. If he asked how she knew? Well, Liliana was not sure what to say on that.
She smiled in relief. "If it causes difficulty for you, I am sorry. Believe me, it was not of my doing." Humor lit her eyes, and for the first time since Liliana discovered her, she seemed a little more like her lively self. Rosalind thought about the competitive natures of both her fallen husband and the late Lord Dunstaffnage, of hunting games gone awry and the eventual spirit of bonhomie that had defined the new generation of Lamont and Campbell men. It was gone, replaced by a bitter blood feud that fueled Fearghus Lamont's homicidal dream of wiping Clan Campbell from the map of Scotland. Were it not for Campbell, who was to say what her life would be like today? But for a clan that had shown remarkable cruelty to her people, they had also shown considerable compassion. Was it treason to warn of the inevitable chaos that would sweep all clans, even those with long-standing agreements for mutually-assured annihilation? She moved the thoughts through her mind only after moving the chess piece. She could not reverse words already spoken. As she listened to Lili's concerned line of questions, and responded with absolute truth, Rosalind also carefully evaluated the effects of this conversation and steeled herself for whatever would follow, from the author of the letters in her hand to those she had come to honor and respect since her arrival in Skye.
"Rosalind, if you ever find need for aid you need only send a letter. Feud be damned, I will never turn you away." She knew it would likely cause problems, but did not care at present. Liliana was not as weak as some thought and as days passed any reason to make one think so slowly vanished. She was becoming more like the women of Skye. Kendrew had even got a taste of her stubbornness.
She grinned. That statement only confirmed how strong Rosalind believed Lili was. "Nor I you. Whatever our fortunes, I value my friendships more than politics. Come, let us go inside where it is warmer -- I've been sitting still for too long." Rosalind thought it would be crass to thank her friend for listening to her vent. It did not seem to need mentioning, which was a bit strange, she admitted. She had so few true friends, though. "Are you hungry?" she asked, trying for her sanity to shove some of her troubles back into the box by settling on a neutral topic. Everyone loved food, and now that she thought about it, she was famished.
There were other matters to discuss, happy news to exchange that had nothing to do with the affairs of Scotland. Though Campbell and Lamont they might have been, there were bonds more powerful than lines on maps, loyalties more important than the mortal struggles of men. The chill in the gardens chased them indoors toward food and warmth, and walking arm-in-arm, Liliana's unquenchably happy spirits chased Rosalind's rage into the shadows, and there remained neglected. Unburdened with the heavy events of late, even Rosalind's uneven steps felt lightened.