Having arrived at the market square two bells before the trading floor opens, Rastellion has been lingering over breakfast - a bit of an indulgence he feels reflexively guilty for, because of his frugal upbringing. Still, he'd had but a sparse supper last night - Immalaine having promised to bring him something and then never appearing, so that, when he finished copying out the document, late that night, he'd just grabbed a bit of day-old bread and gone to sleep. He brushes away those thoughts – and concerns over Zandrianna's unusual behavior - along with the crumbs on his shirt. 'Immalaine's just upset about the signatures', he figures. 'All set to get her property back, only to have some bureaucrat snatch it away. Well, they'll be setting out tomorrow to fix that.' He rises, checks that he still has the documents he prepared last night, and leaves the bakery. He hunches his shoulders against the misting rain - now little more than a heavy fog - as he starts up the road toward the trading house, and peers ahead. Motion catches his eye, as a tall figure strides out from under an overhanging portico and heads away. The man seems vaguely familiar, but Rastellion's efforts to recall are interrupted as he sees a second figure step out from the shadowed recess as well, a woman. His mouth quirks. A lovers' quarrel? Or an early farewell after a late-night tryst? Or - He's taken a few steps closer and as the woman turns to look about the street, he suddenly recognizes -- "Immalaine?!!"
Turning her head at the sound of her name called, Immalaine stares down the road, realizing it was Rastellion. Glancing around to make sure the man was well and truly gone, she rubs her arms and stutters, "Hello Rastellion. I ... I was just looking fer ye, but the trading hall ..." she shrugs, biting her lip as he comes closer.
Frowning, he repeats, "Looking for me?" and glances up the street toward where the tall figure has vanished into the fog. He steps closer. "Who was that?" he asks, stretching out a hand to draw her into an embrace. "That fellow you were talking to?"
Still trembling from her encounter with the dark haired man, she flinches as Rastellion reaches for her, her hands shaking as she wraps her arms closer around herself. For a long moment, she is silent, the man's words still echoing in her head and she shakes it to get rid of the images from her past of what he could and would do if she didn't listen. "The fellow?" she asked looking behind her, "He ... he were jus' askin' directions. New t' town, he said."
Rastellion's outstretched hand hover for a moment, then falls away as she steps back. "Directions? Oh." He glances toward the portico from which they'd both emerged, several long strides away from the street, then back to Immalaine. "You're shaking.. and pale. Are you okay?" He takes a step towards her, then pauses as she seems to almost flinch away from him. "Immalaine?... Is something wrong?" Her rapid breathing draws his eyes to her chest, and he realizes that her bodice, which she's always so conscientious about lacing up to appear proper, is hanging loose. "Imma?"
Brushing her hand through her rain-damp hair, she looks at Rastellion, her mind still reeling from the encounter. "Me? I .. I'm 'lright," she says, unaware of where Rastellion's eyes lingered, oblivious to the condition of her dress. "Got caught in th' rain. Jus' cold I guess."
Still frowning slightly, Rastellion nods.. "Why don't you come on with me," he offers. "They've got a fire in the trading house most mornings these days. Get you warmed up before you go ... where were you headed? Zandrianna said you left early?"
She shakes her head at the suggestion, her heart still pounding as she looked past him towards the edge of town. Not trusting that the man wouldn't return, she steps away from Rastellion as she angles towards the stables. "No," she says, before looking back at him, though she couldn't look him in the eye. "I should get back, help Lady Zandrianna out. I didn't mean t' be gone so long, jus' stopped at th' Pony ..." her voice trails off and she sighs, rubbing her arms again.
Rastellion turns as she steps away, his frown deepening. "I... Well, here, at least take my cloak to put over your own," he offers, starting to undo the boar-shaped silver clasp at his neck. "I'll be indoors in a few minutes, after all." He takes a half step after her.
Torn between running and stopping, Immalaine slows down briefly as she turns her head to look at Rastellion. "I ..." she says, looking at the cloak as he fumbled with the clasp. "'lright, if ye insist" she says, reaching for the finely woven garment as he hands it to her. Haphazardly throwing it over her shoulders, she mumbles a quick thanks before turning and heading up the road her eyes darting around the roadways cautiously as she quickly made her way to the stables.
Puzzlement and hurt war across his face as he watches her go, hastening away from him, looking about fearfully. He stands there, mind awhirl, even after the girl has disappeared around the corner and into the misting rain. Only the tower bells, striking the hour, pull him from his confused thoughts - that and a trundling lumber cart which splashes muddy slush across his boots. With a low, heart-felt curse he turns and hastens back up toward the trading hall, trying to pull his thoughts away from Immalaine's strange behavior and back to the meetings he's arranged for the day. But the image of her stepping away from his outstretched hand still lingers in the back of his mind.
Making her way back home, Immalaine looks around cautiously, before stepping into the house and closing the door. Hearing her come in, Zandrianna heads out of the bedroom with Althessia, who she'd just been feeding and begins to greet her. “Immalaine, you just missed Rastellion. He was looking ...” Taking a look at Immalaine's pale face and disheveled clothing, Zandrianna stops in mid-sentence. Moving towards the younger woman, Zandrianna reaches down to adjust her bodice with one hand. “What happened Immalaine?” she said, worried.
Looking down at what Zandrianna was doing, Immalaine's eyes widened as she realized the state of her dress. Reaching up, she clutched it closed, shaking her head. “No … nothing, Lady Zandrianna, the tie must have broken while I were walkin' back from town, is all,” she replied. Reaching up, she brushed her damp hair out of her eyes, examining the damage.
Hearing the hesitation in Immalaine's voice, Zandrianna shook her head, vowing to find out the truth later. 'For now though,' she thought to herself, before saying aloud, “You're wet besides, and shaking. Go into my closet and get a clean dress, get dried off and changed. We'll fix this one later.” She leans in to kiss Immalaine's cheek, before heading to the bedroom with the baby to change her.
Watching Zandrianna walk away, Immalaine blows out a breath of relief and rushes into the bedroom, unclasping Rastellion's cloak as she moves, to do as she was told before starting her chores for the day.
Later that night -
It's well past dusk, nearly full night, when Rastellion finally returns to their neighborhood in the north-west outskirts of Breetown. A long day, he thinks, but successful; he can leave Bree for the two or three days it will take to get the third signature. Just as well, since they have only three days left before the property goes up to auction. He trudge up the walkway to Zandrianna's house, his mind drifting back to Immalaine's puzzling behavior that morning. Her behavior... and the man he thought he'd seen talking - if it was talking - to her. He shakes his head, a quick jerk, as if trying to toss a buzzing thought away. She'd been sheltering from the rain, nothing more. And she'd be fine now, for sure - eager for their outing an the reclaiming of her property. His smile has returned as he knocks on the door. Zandrianna should have picked up the supplies that afternoon; they'll be ready to set out first thing in the morning.
Racing out of the second room, her hands clutching an extra pillow for Zandrianna, Merry lets out a surprised little yelp as she hears the door. Looking over at Immalaine, who appears distracted by the tea she was making for Zandrianna, Merry answers the door herself, looking up at the man on the other side. "Hello mister," she says, her usually grin absent.
Rastellion blinks at the young woman who answers the door, not recognizing her for a moment, then, "Merry, isn't it? Zandrianna's student? Oh, am I interrupting a music lesson?" He smiles apologetically. "I'm just stopping by to check on Immalaine, and see if we’re all set to leave tomorrow." He glances past her to where Immalaine is squatting by the hearth, pouring water into a mug, seeming almost oblivious to Rastellion's arrival.
Merry shakes her head, her expression serious as she replies, waving him in. "Mister Rastellion, right? And no, no music I'm afraid. Miss Zandrianna is sick! Immalaine says she found her passed out by her desk!"
It takes a moment for him to register these words, his attention drawn back from Immalaine. "Sick? Passed out?" He takes a step into the house. "How long? Is she doing better?" Though several paces away, he reaches a hand toward Immalaine as she hurries past with the tea, heading toward Zandrianna's room.
Hearing Merry talking, Immalaine turns quickly and sees Rastellion, nodding briefly at him as she heads into the bedroom, stirring the tea, a small sleep drought to help Zandrianna rest. Having avoided Zandrianna's questions earlier, she felt tired and stressed, her head throbbing from the panic of finding her friend laying on the floor. Rastellion stares after her for a moment. ''Immalaine .... must be quite upset,'' he says, a bit lamely, to Merry. ''Is there anything I can do to help?''
"Nothing I can think of,” Merry replies, shaking her head. “Immalaine's been taking care of everything since Lady Rhianonn came by and gave her some sort of tea to get her to sleep. And she took the baby with her too." Merry looks back at the room, herself worried, and not just for Zandrianna. Immalaine seemed to be working hard ... too hard, Merry thought to herself.
Rastellion starts toward Zandrianna's door, then shakes his head. "What did Rhiannon say? Does she need anything beside rest? Do you know - did she pick up the supplies for the trip tomorrow? Mine and Immalaine's?" Merry nods. "Lady Rhianonn took care of everything, from what Immalaine said. And, I guess Miss Zandrianna does need some sleep. She's been looking very tired lately."
"I keep telling her, she can't do everything,” Rastellion replies, purses his lips. “Even if some people expect her to. She has to delegate." He frowns. "I was going to update her on today's meetings, but there's nothing pressing. Can you tell her, if she asks, that they went fine, and there's nothing that needs doing about them until I come back?"
"Well, I could but maybe if she's still awake? I'll ..." She's interrupted by the sound of Immalaine's voice, clearly tired and filled with frustration, "Merry! Can ye bring me that pillow fer Zandrianna?" Merry turns and nods. "I'll be right back mister!" she says, darting to the room.
Entering the room and watching Immalaine, Merry frowns. "Why don't ye let me do that and go talk to your fellow out there? I can manage to get Miss Zandrianna settled."
Immalaine turns, holding the cup steady as she motions to the pillow, darting a worried glance at the door to the other room where she knew Rastellion was waiting. "No, jus' put that under her head, and I'll take care o' the rest." she replies, before turning back. Merry shakes her head, moving over to the head of the bed and setting the pillow under the woman gently. "Really, I can ..."
"No!" Immalaine replies, more sharply than she intended, "I need t' take care o' this. I ..." looking down at the cup, she notices it's empty and straightens up to bring it back to the kitchen, glancing only briefly at Rastellion in passing, her mind filled with everything that had occurred that day, biting her lip. Rastellion looks up from the table as Immalaine passes by, scarcely meeting his gaze. He follows after her to the kitchen. "Immalaine?" he asks, "Are you okay?"
Immalaine turns and glances over at him, not looking him in the eye, her face lined with worry and tiredness. "I'm .... 'lright." she nods curtly, "But Zandrianna!" Immalaine turns, brushing past Rastellion as she looks for a clean cloth to put over Zandrianna's eyes. "I was scared when I found her." Rastellion steps back, out of her way. "She was like this - collapsed mean - when you got home this morning?"
“No, it were later, after she'd gone t' town t' get the package fer me,” Immalaine replied, shaking her head. “I was takin' care o' Althessia an' I heard her come in, then I heard this awful sound. When I came t' look, she were all in a pile by her husband's desk!" Immalaine brushes her eyes, moving past Rastellion to take the cloth to the other room.
Rastellion trails after. ''Rhiannon can keep an eye on Zandrianna after we leave.'' He glances about the room. ''Did she get those supplies for us? I could take them home now and we could meet at there tomorrow morning. The guards are coming to my place first, anyway. No need to bring them here and disturb her...''
Looking back at Rastellion, her eyes fill with frustration. "Can we talk 'bout this in th' morning? I've got t' take care 'o Zandrianna right now. She needs me." She wanders into the bedroom, brushing past Merry, who shakes her head and backs off to head back out to the main room.
Rastellion frowns after her, his expression sobering. "I'd have thought she'd still be excited about our trip," he mutters. Merry looks at Rastellion, shaking her head in sympathy. "I don't know what's gotten into her lately. She's been like this for the past couple of days. Like she doesn't even hear anything I say." Merry says, a small pout forming on her lips.
"The past couple of days?..." Ratellion begins, frowning.
Merry looks up to reply to his question, but hears the door open and looks past. "Oh! Mrs. Rossiath," she says, watching the woman brush her dress off as she enters, before heading towards them, turning to nod to Rastellion, before she returns her gaze to the younger woman.
"Came as soon as I got your note. What' all this fuss about?" she said, "Something about Zandrianna taking ill?" Merry nods. "Immalaine was here when she collapsed. Someone's been by, said Miss Zandrianna needs sleep more than anything, gave her some herbs to help her ..." Merry pauses, watching as Rossiath purses her lips and heads into the bedroom, swearing under her breath.
Rastellion walks after the older woman, whose brisk steps beat out a sharp tattoo on the floor, and pauses just outside the bedroom door. "Is she dressed?" he asks Merry in a low voice. "Would it be okay for me to look in on her?"
Looking down at the bed, Rossiath notes that the woman laying there seems to be soundly asleep, from the small snoring sounds. Turning to Immalaine, she reaches over and stills her hands, as the younger woman was fussing with the blanket. "Child you need to quit fussing so much. And this woman needs quiet right now." She turns as she hears Rastellion's voice and shaking her head, she returns to the doorway. "Woman needs rest, and she's asleep right now. And you, young man, shouldn't be coming into a married woman's bedchambers, friend or not!" She gives him a pointed look as she turns back. "Immalaine, come out of there, you'll not do her any good standing around like one of the king's statues!"
Rastellion takes a step back from the doorway, color rising to his cheeks.
Sighing, Immalaine pushes her hair back and follows Rossiath from the room. "Someone should sleep in there with her tonight ... what if she needs …" Rossiath tugs Immalaine's arm, pulling her from the doorway before gently closing the door. "She needs to sleep, and I imagine she can do that right well without anyone in there child. Now, all of you, unless you're planning the woman's wake already, I think you all need to go find your beds and leave her in peace for the night."
"I'm pretty tired myself," Merry stretches and yawns, looking around. "You taking the bed tonight Immalaine?" She turns to look at Immalaine, who seemed intent on staring at the doorway, and equally intent on not looking over at Rastellion. Shaking her head Merry sighs, and goes to grab the bedroll to fix a place in front of the fire. "Good night Mrs. Rossiath, good night mister Rastellion," she calls back to them as she ducks into the second bedroom, humming to herself.
Rastellion retreats a few more paces from the older woman's hawk-like glare at him. "I'll just," he says, "just be heading on home now." He looks at Immalaine, trying to catch her eye. "I'll be by in the morning," he says, starting toward her, ready to give her an embrace, until he hears Rossiath's slight, disapproving cough. He pauses awkwardly, then resorts to just saying, "She'll be fine. You'll see." Still unable to catch her eye, he glances at Rossiath, who purses her lips and makes a shooing motion at him. Rastellion turns and heads to the door, shooting one last look over his shoulder before he departs.
Glancing between the young couple, Rossiath shakes her head, her lips a thin line as she senses something not right. Watching Rastellion leave at her urgings, she turns to Immalaine "To bed with you child! That's an order!" she says, watching Immalaine jerk her head up to look in her direction before muttering under her breath and heading for her room.
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
