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hh_mirror2007-03-28 10:31 am
renata-leynier.livejournal.com) wrote in hh_mirror2007-03-28 10:31 am
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open RP: Renata finds Robin
She still could not say how she had come to Hogwarts. What she did know for certain was that whatever travel might have brought her here, it left her sorely fatigued, all the more so after the strangeness of the Sorting into which she had immediately been cast. When she returned home, she thought, she would have at least this story to tell, that she had passed a trial by embroidery!
This castle was not entirely without good help. In short order Renata had a chamber, more akin to the accommodations of a Tower novice than anything like her apartments in Castle Aldaran, and adequate clothing and linens, again more befitting a novice's work than a lady's station. It sufficed; she had no complaints. At the same time, she thought it not at all strange that the Hat should have cited her noble blood as the reason for her house placement. Comyn and Hali'imyn alike were set apart from the common run, Hali'imyn if anything a rarefied subset of the Comyn.
This was not to say she had no questions about Slytherin House. For one thing, Robin of Loxley had seemed reticent on the subject of that House, and uncomfortable concerning his own placement therein. Should there be a stigma upon her new residence, she wished to know it, and to know why. She would not have it be a hindrance to her work.
For she had work to do here, she knew. Already she had met a young woman burdened with entirely uncontrolled laran or something like it, and a man confronted with an unexplained double who desired deep monitoring for both himself and that double. Hogwarts was some sort of a school, and she had met other telepaths here who seemed in no need of training, yet no laranzu'in and no evidence of specific avenues for teaching or using these gifts presented themselves. The words of Lord Commander Snow stayed with her as she soaked in a hot bath and prepared for sleep. Renata had not come to Hogwarts purposely. The place might well be drawing people to itself, for a purpose of its own, or even unthinking, when the need arose. There was magic in these stones ...
Well, she had her matrix, and she would do her best, as befitted a comynara and leronis. Tramontana could continue its work in her absence, doubtless; she might be its most skilled monitor (false modesty not a luxury permitted in such intimate and grueling work), but she was not the only competent monitor at that Tower, and even if she were, Neskaya could spare one to hold her place. As for the Aldaran domain, well, the succession of Donal's son was in no question, whatever might befall Mikhail. The Storns or the Scathfell kindred might make some ill-conceived attempt at unrest, but none could stand against the might of the Hasturs, and the connection to Allart might well check such an attempt even before it could begin. No, Renata had no misgivings as to how her kin might fare without her near. If she had, she would not have been at Tramontana at all; she would have been at Castle Aldaran, or in Thendara. A sad state of affairs it was, she thought ruefully, that the work for which she was trained had now become in itself a luxury, something she could pursue only by Mikhail's grace and blessing, and when she was not needed elsewhere for reasons of state.
Now it seemed she was to take up that work in a new place, without benefit of a circle, without any tools other than her own matrix. So be it; Renata Leynier had never shied from a challenge. Clean and rested, she awoke and dressed herself in the robes of Hogwarts, and set out from her little Slytherin dormitory room to go about what business she might have.
She needed to find Gillian, and to find Sidney Reilly. She recalled being told that owls were used in this place, for the people to communicate one with another. It seemed to her wasteful, when a woman had her own two legs to walk upon. Yet she did not know where to find these people. Robin of Loxley had promised to act as guide to her; perhaps he could guide her at least to the place where the owls were kept, and she could send word to these others to let them know where she might be found, until such time as she got her own bearings.
By the grace of Evanda, it so happened Robin was the first person Renata saw upon her emergence from the dormitory. Her path took her through the Slytherin common room, where he sat before the hearth with a tray of sand at his feet and a branch of some wood Renata did not know in his hands. She recognised his work: he had fashioned the branch into a weapon, which he had carved, and was now sanding the carvings. Perhaps he had been at this for some time, and Renata was almost loath to disturb him. It was the habit of a telepath that made her speak to him regardless; had she been among her own, they would have sensed her presence at once, whether she spoke or no, and it would have been foolish to pass by as though she were not there.
"How goes the work?" she said, simply. No need to preface the words with formality.
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Heartened thus, she smiled at Robin. "No, I have little care for stories. Truth needs no adornment. And of course you cannot do what I do; you have not the gift nor the training. Just so, I have not your gift nor your training, and so I cannot do what you do. A communion with what is..." She repeated his words, tasting them, still smiling. "The sound of it is wholesome. I have seen laran bent to unnatural purpose all too often."
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the Forceit, to act without thinking. But what I did with the yew, that was different. I asked the tree to give up a limb, rather than simply taking it. I chose to be part of the forest, do you see?"no subject
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"My life is no exemplar to anyone - I gave because I was called, I loved because I could not do otherwise." He shrugged and went on, forgetting that Renata could not know his circumstances. "I died because all men die. There was another chosen after me, more skilled - or luckier - than I. He is the hero, not I."
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She took his hands again, that light fingertip-touch. "And I would not have you call me 'lady', Robin. When you do, I hear it in our language, vai domna they would say, and I half look about for Comyn Council. We are not in the Seven Domains and you are no vassal of mine." She spoke as one used to being heeded. "I am here to work, not to command; when I am at work, those who work with me call me freely by my name. I would have you do the same." On this she would not budge. It was simply too uncomfortable to be ascribed an honorific. "I would not be ... set apart," she said.
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When she took his hands again, warmth spread through him, for she sought the touch, and Robin began to think that it must be a sign of affection. He gave her a quizzical smile. "As you wish it, Renata, though I cannot quite see why. I mean it only as a sign of respect. In my world, to address a woman without that honorific is to label her as lacking honor, unless she be family." He shook his head. "I, too, am here to work, and I understand not wanting to be... different. You are not the first to ask me this, and as long as it is truly your wish I shall comply. Though you must forgive me if I slip occasionally," Robin added, with a slight laugh.
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Renata nodded her assent. "I would hear it, as much of it as you can recall. As with the things I say of my own training, some concepts may not translate well; so with your permission, I will -- ah, but there is no ready word for this, either -- I will relax control of empathic barriers. That will likely make little sense," she corrected herself, under her breath, and tried again. "Fear not, I could not read your thoughts if I tried. You are not a telepath. What I will do is allow myself to share your emotions as you speak. Thus even when what you say is unclear to me, I may understand some of what it means to you."
Of a certainty, she knew she would thus be opening herself to more than just the emotions relevant to the history he was about to give. This was her own solution to the question his earlier confession posed to her. If she could share what he felt for her, on that level, and face it without flinching, why then, there was no difficulty at all, and she would be forthright in saying so. If she could not, then she would determine how best to avoid stirring anything more in him, even if it meant taking up the discipline of a working Keeper.
For it was not for nothing she had chosen to take up her work again in Tramontana rather than among those she had known and loved in Hali. Tramontana was in the Aldaran domain, and its Keeper, Ian-Mikhail, had been the one to respond immediately to the tragedy at Aldaran's victory feast, when Dorilys had stricken Donal down. It was Ian-Mikhail who had guided Donal's confused spirit away from his body and through the Overworld. The circle at Tramontana had an intimate, nigh visceral, knowledge of the trauma Renata had experienced, and could work with her, making use of her talents without demanding more than she could give. She had known instinctively that returning to work would be more healing than any of the little indulgences her guilt-burdened husband could offer; letting her return to the Towers was the most significant indulgence of all. And the work had been restorative. But there were ways in which the workers at Tramontana were considerate of Renata; not setting her apart as their liege lady (which in fact she was), as they knew her better than that, had known her as Renata of Hali in the relays before she ever came to Aldaran; but respecting her grief. Working in the circles, such issues as desire must be faced forthrightly; were someone to develop such feelings for Renata, she must answer them, or they must find another way to address the tension. Such an impossible tension between Allart and Cassandra was what sent Allart to Aldaran leaving Cassandra behind. The Tramontana workers had been careful to spare Renata this kind of situation. They had all known Donal; he had worked there in his own early youth; and Renata was, in spirit if not in name, his widow.
So there were forms of response she did not know whether she was ready to give ... As a monitor, she could not leave the matter unaddressed.
"Customs differ," said Renata, when he agreed to her request. "Yet I think both our customs differ equally strongly from the customs of the place in which we find ourselves. Those who work together in a Tower are closer than family in some ways; it is no lack of respect, to address even a comynara as you would a kinswoman, when you share such work. Hogwarts seems to me like unto a Tower. Besides," she added, laughing, "would you have me so distant?"
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He answered her last question first. "Nay, Renata, I would not."
Robin gave a nod of understanding. She would feel what he felt. It was as when he 'spoke' to the forest spirits, and that was well within the realm of his experience.
For a moment he was shy, knowing she would be vitally aware of his attraction to her; but she would also see, he was sure, that he would neither approach her nor cause her discomfort in any way. He was committed to study here, not to romance. If he took deep pleasure in her company, if his thoughts strayed warmly to her at other times, why, surely that could hurt no one.
"My father was Ailric of Loxley," he began. "Herne gave him into his keeping the silver arrow, an item of great significance to our people and our beliefs, bearing us prosperity and safety from oppression. For a time all was well; but when I was five, the Norman knight Robert de Reinault was given assistantship to the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, and everything changed.
He knew of the arrow, I know not how, and he and his soldiers came to Loxley, razing it and murdering all in their path in a search for what was not theirs. My father got me away, and so I was saved; but he was not, and the silver arrow passed into the possession of de Reinault.
In time de Reinault became the Sheriff, and he taxed the people mercilessly with the gauntlet of his knight, Guy of Gisbourne. I was raised as foster-son to the miller Matthew and his wife, and my foster-brother was a boy of my own age named Much. They were my family, and I loved them as my own."
Robin's gaze was distant, looking deep into the past. "I was tutored by the hermit of Sherwood Forest, an eccentric who went by the name of Herne the Hunter, also the name of a forest spirit worshiped by the people. He was a wizard of some repute, and many feared him, but I did not, though I did not know for many long years why he taught me so carefully. Had I known, perhaps I would have feared him more.
One day Much stole my bow and shot a deer. We were often hungry in those days, and he sought only to feed us, but all deer were claimed as property of royalty and the penalty for killing one was stiff - the loss of a hand, an arm, perhaps of one's life." Robin shook his head. "The law was enforced by Gisbourne and his Sheriff with grievous care, and I could not let Much suffer such a fate. He was not... he was a simple soul, loving and stalwart, but he sometimes did not understand.
When I found him, there was the deer, the arrow in its throat, and the bow in Much's hand. And so we ran, trying to escape the wrath of the soldiers; but Gisbourne was on horseback and soon had us surrounded. We were imprisoned, and there we should rot until the Sheriff's pleasure."
Robin's eyes narrowed, his lips curving in a fierce smile. "But we would not have it so. There were others in the oubliette: Dickon, and Tom the Fletcher, and Will Scarlet, and we none of us were patient men. So we made a plan to escape, and hide in Sherwood Forest as Wolf's Heads - outlaws. It seemed little enough to risk - we would likely die in any case, and so why not?" His shoulders lifted in a shrug.
"We fought our way out, but I did not get to the portcullis in time, and was trapped. I found my way back into the castle to hide, and there met Marian of Leaford, who did not betray me to my would-be captors." His expression softened in memory - he had loved her deeply and immediately. But that was over now, a story for another time. "With her help I escaped and made my way back to the forest.
Though we did not know it then, Satan's own wizard Simon de Belleme had made an offer to de Reinault for Marian, but she preferred Kirklees Abbey and the taking of the veil, for she hated de Belleme." Robin frowned blackly. "Gisbourne used the trip to Kirklees to try to find Much and me and the others, tracking Much to our father's house and the mill. He murdered Matthew and burned the mill. And so we attacked.
Marian I kept safe; Gisbourne we did not kill, but sent him back to Nottingham in disgrace, as a message to the Sheriff that we would not be taken easily. I took Marian to Kirklees Abbey, and there the matter rested, or so we thought."
((Part 1))
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Robin was lost in thought for a moment, awash with the memories of that time. He had selfishly tried to convince Marian to stay with him, but she had known what sort of life he offered, and he understood her refusal. And then everything had changed. Again.
Robin bent his head. "It was on my return from Kirklees that I felt Herne call me. At first I did not know who it was, so different he seemed. He told me then of the prophecy of the Hooded Man - that Ailric had said it upon his death and thta it was I to whom the prophecy referred. 'They are all waiting,' Herne said. 'The blinded, the maimed, the men locked in the stinking dark, all wait for you. Children with swollen bellies hiding in ditches wait. The poor, the dispossessed, they all wait. You are their hope. You cannot escape. So must it be. Robin i' the Hood!'
He raised his eyes to Renata. "And so I became what he made me."
Robin paused again, allowing her time to digest it all, picking up the story after a little. "Herne asked me, upon that meeting, a question: what binds the hunter to the hunted? And he told me to act without thinking.
So when the Sheriff announced a contest wherein the best archer would win the silver arrow, I knew I had to compete. It was the arrow, do you see? That which binds the hunter to the hunted - that which incriminated Much, which was stolen from my father. An arrow. I had to get it back." He raised his hands and dropped them, huffing out a frustrated breath. "It was a trap - of course it was. But by then we had the help of de Belleme's assassin John Little, who had been ensorcelled and joined us when the spell broke, and so we knew what to anticipate. We took great care and were not captured.
And so de Reinault made a deal with the Devil, promising Marian to de Belleme in exchange for her lands, as a way to entrap me. They knew I would come for her as well as I did myself.
Her confessor, Brother Tuck, came for me when she was taken, and I went after her. de Belleme's power was fearsome, but Herne's power was greater and I killed the sorcerer with the silver arrow." Robin dismissed the fight with de Bellem, the wounds he had suffered, the fearsome might of the Moorish assassin Nasir, the attack of the Sheriff's men with a shrug. "We lost Tom the Fletcher and Dickon that day, and others, and on our return to Sherwood we vowed to continue the fight, to preserve the hope of the people. Tuck joined us, and though he was excommunicated he and Herne handfasted Marian and me." Two years of happiness, and then he would leave her; and then she would leave him.
He looked at Renata for a long moment. "That was how it began. As to how it ended: we were surrounded, Much, Marian and I, the two people I loved best. I could only get them away, for I knew if I surrended the soldiers would let them escape in their eagerness to take me. And so it fell out. I have waited in the Great Forest since for Herne to call me again, and now he has sent me here to learn of magic what I may."
((Done!))
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