Concerning current affairs...

[Following are correspondences between Mereavus and Samuel, on her time away from the palace.]

Dear Eave,
It's not been long at all since I left you that day, to visit my family. It's not been long since my death, and my figurative return to life. It's not been long since the night we spoke on such things, and on subjects sorer yet. I only thought to take a moment to tell you that I miss you.

Perhaps I ought not to have left for my family's home during such rocky times. I know that things in the palace are practically upside down. I've yet to speak with Christoph on what's happening currently, but I've heard enough from the staff and pieced together enough of what's actually true to get the gist of what's happening. I wish I'd have looked a bit further into things before I left you there. It's not likely that I'll be forgiving myself for that in any timely fashion, despite how I lacked foresight on such things.

I hate this rift that's come between us since everything transpired that on that peculiar night. I'm just now beginning to come to terms with the fact that I was, in a very real sense, dead to Nharati. I cannot believe that even Violet would stoop to such levels, though I'm fully aware of how childish you always said she was. Still, I cannot fathom ever doing that to someone I claimed to care for...

I digress. I've not been very capable of cognizant thought since your departure, probably even before that. I do miss you, though, and I wish for nothing more than to bridge the gap that's come between us.

Stay safe, Eave, please. I love you.

Samuel

[Events one day -after- Emersyn's letter would have been delivered to Sam.]

Mereavus had been thinking for most of the day. Playing hostess, providing means of entertainment and generally assuring that the Queen was comfortable only took up so much time. She was usually the first up and last to bed. She had an abundance of time to think. She could be found with the same letter in her hand whenever she had a spare moment, looking contemplative.

For the life of her, she simply couldn’t think of a reply. What more was there to say by ink and courier? She sat down to her writing desk towards midnight, dipped her quill, and looked at the page for a long while. Surely there was something. Anything. She bit the back of her lower lip, and went off into drifting thought for a good half an hour.

She put the quill down, rose, and changed out of her night robe, and into one of the more simple items from her selection. Plucking her cloak off the back of the door, she slipped out of the warmth of her bedchamber with one last look at the pheasant feather dangling from gold thread from the bottom of the four poster beams.

She passed Arthur on her way out, settling the wolf fur over her shoulders and pausing to murmur, “Tell the ladies I’ll be back towards midday tomorrow. I have some business to attend to.” And naturally, he nodded, and opened the front door for her.

The blast of cold wasn’t particularly pleasing, and she was sure Luthien would hate her for it, but she had to go. She swept out into the courtyard, mounting with the cold-handed help of one of her stablehands, and sent him back to his small, nonetheless warm section of the outbuilding.

Hooves clattered across the stone courtyard as she left at pace; whatever business was, she wasn’t wasting any time. The country roads were black, moonless sky not giving her an inch of light to tell her where she was. But she’d come this way almost every day for at least fifteen years. She knew the way. Luthien knew the way.

In the early hours of the morning, the castle stable boy was startled awake by the swift arrival and halt of the Advisor’s familiar, heavy shod animal. He scuttled down to see to it, and found that the woman had already gone. Luthien stood alone, expectantly waiting to be put somewhere warm.

Velvet ghosted over grass. Heels unsuited to soil dug into solid earth, and she made her way past the brush and low branches that touched against her on her dark excursion.

Her hand found it. Solid wood, and further down, the icy touch of metal that froze her fingers. She was here. And she’d anticipated she’d feel a moment of doubt – a desire to turn back and leave the awkwardness to her imagination. But it didn’t come. She would do this. She was determined to do it.

Her fingertips pressed down on the door handle until it clicked, and she then pushed it forwards silently. Perhaps he’d wake up. Perhaps he wouldn’t. Either way, she closed the door behind herself so she didn’t let much heat out, and turned her eyes back to the room.

A vague figure in emberlight. Tall, and very distinctly her. She paused a moment, simply to look at whatever dark shape was most likely to be him, and lifted her hands to the Varana brooch that kept her cloak to her shoulders. She continued patient undressing until she was down to her undergarments, and reached for a nearby patch of white that she identified as one of his shirts. Settling it over herself, she made her way towards the bed, lifted the covers, and promptly slotted herself between them. She was sure that by this point he’d have woken up. Still, awake or not, she was cold, and bed was warm. She settled a very light kiss against his lower lip, slipped one arm underneath the pillow and the other over his side, and drew herself in against his chest with the slow closing of her eyes.

It was hardly a grand solution of locked doors and screaming, or idyllic walks in the forest. Neither was she sure it was a solution at all. But being close without speaking had posed too much of a temptation – she’d deal with whatever would be said in the morning.

For now, she was content to steal the Huntsman’s bodily warmth, and half of the bed, and probably a good portion of his comfort.

Temporary calm.

[Delivered to Samuel a day before the previous post]

To Samuel Alexston:

Perhaps I am presuming too much on a single meeting to be writing such a letter, and my apologies if I am, however, I have found myself much in the company of your betrothed lady in the past weeks and she has become quite dear to me.

I have come to realize, in conversations with her, that she has failed to present you with the extent of events during your absence. While she has her reasons for this, I am certain, it makes it far more difficult for you to understand the state in which you find Eave. As she has said to me, she finds clarity and emotions difficult when twinned together...or perhaps by explaining, she feels that she is asking you to excuse certain things on her part. I cannot speak for her, however, I can tell you what has happened and it is this I mean to do in my letter.

Shortly after your departure, while I spent a quiet evening with the Queen and Eave, we were disrupted by a blonde woman claiming to know Eave. One Violet Grosvenor. I may not have known Eave long, but I know she is not a woman given to fainting spells or other such womanly antics, but in that moment, I thought her knees might fail her such was the shock at seeing this Violet. Of course, being the fine woman she is, Eave welcomed her graciously but it was without pleasure, and she allowed the woman use of her own apartments so she could perhaps find what exactly the woman meant by returning to her.

While I know little of what transpired privately between the two, I do know it was always Eave's intention to be rid of her with a clear message that she should never return, as the first one seemed to fail somewhere in its delivery. It was about that time that things took a turn for the strange. You had been gone some time without word, the ash flew through the castle stealing two lives, and there were rumours of all sorts flying about. One of such rumours was, in fact, that a body had been found in the forest, and it was quickly paired by wagging tongues with your absence.

These rumours came to my attention, and at once, I sought to find the truth of them. The steward assured me it was loose talk, though there was some worry since we'd had no word and strange things were transpiring. It was just this that I had intended to relay to Eave at the precise moment that wretched woman burst into the library with us, tears slipping down her cheeks. Rather than silence her tongue as the Queen commanded, she relayed said rumours as though they were likely true and passed off a forged letter presumably written by your brother asking when you would arrive.

Your fine Eave took it as truth. After all, with the death of Lord Varana some years hence, I think it would be hard to do anything but. Samuel, the sound...I shall never forget it, and I shall never forgive Violet for her treachery. Eave wailed as though her soul was being rent from her and fell to her knees. Try as we might, the Queen and I could not comfort her, though we attempted to persuade her that you might live yet. Eventually, she pulled herself into that cold distant state and demanded to know what the woman had done, too many things not quite right .. though I would guess at that point, Eave believed that Violet had conspired to have you murdered. Even then, there was little of the woman I knew left, as if the news of your death had mortally wounded her as well.

It was Eave herself that commanded Violet arrested, vowing that she would have the truth of what had happened and leaving unspoken what she would do to the woman if you were, in fact, dead. Eave vowed to ruin her for what she had done, and rather than realize she had lost utterly, that vile creature screamed at Eave, telling her that she ruined everything she touched .. that Violet herself was already ruined and that Eave had ruined you, among others. Can you imagine hearing such bile spewed at yourself in such state? Not only were you dead, but it was her fault that you were dead .. that it somehow was linked to her loving you.

After that she left us, wishing to be alone. There was no comfort friends could offer at that point, and to be quite blunt, I wondered as she left if I would ever see her living again. There is a look one wears when all will to live has departed, and it was that I saw in her eyes.

And here I approach the even more delicate topic, but it can be no more ignored should you and Eave wish to find peace. Yes, I know what transpired with a certain individual in your absence, but you must consider the state she was in with such events. Why do you think she was on the roof, Samuel? Merely admiring the scenery while grief infused her every moment, each breath aching for you and believing you were gone forever? Give thanks that someone was able to bring her down from the roof, Samuel, or your reception home might have been far worse than the one you received.

I cannot say to know your Lady's mind at that moment, though I'm certain what she did served the same purpose as drink. To feel something other than either numbness or pain for an instant, to take the vicious sharp edge from her throat. It was comfort she needed, though certainly not the comfort she wanted, Samuel, but she had little choice at that moment and great need.

It is not my place to tell you what to do with these things, and so I shall not. It is between you and Eave. All I wish is for you to know the full truth which she may have difficulty explaining. Should I be able to shed more light on the topic, please do ask or perhaps speak with me.

I wish you and Eave all the best.