Tyren descends one of the stairwells, winded and red-faced. He makes his way toward the well, skirting the edges of the general bustle in the ward until he absolutely /has/ to breach it.
Lanisen scurries from the kitchen to the well and back again, looking tired and flustered and harried. He dodges the majority of the aforementioned general bustle, but as he reaches the edge of the general bustle, he might be in a position to encounter somebody who is attempting to avoid the bustle.
Tyren is, indeed, in rather a position to be bumped into by someone of the in-a-hurry-to-appease-an-irate-stressed-cook-and-thusly-not-paying-much-attention-to-his-surroundings persuasion.
Lanisen bumps. Water flies. Chickens squawk. General mayhem.
Tyren lets out a grunt as he is bumped, finding himself somewhat wetter afterward. He does his best to remain dignified through it all, attempting to calm down the general mayhem with a lot of ‘move-along-nothing-to-see-here’s before turning to glance at Lanisen, with, of course, a raised brow.
Lanisen gasps, also drenched. He attempts belatedly to steady the bucket, already apologizing. When he looks to see who he plowed into, his mouth opens and his eyes shut briefly. He bows. “I’m– I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t– I’m so sorry–”
Tyren hehs. “Accidents happen, Lanisen. Considering the nature of my duties, I daresay water is one of the lesser worries my tunics have. It’s quite all right.”
Lanisen bows again, murmuring one more ‘sorry’ for good measure., then surveys his drenched self with dismay. He attempts to wring out his tunic, already shivering.
Tyren’s brow furrows slightly. “Still, it /is/ a bit cold.” He pauses a moment, then says, “Tell you what. I’ve been meaning to have a bit of a word with you anyway. I’ll inform the cook that I wish to borrow you for a bit, you can change into a dry tunic, and we’ll speak momentarily.”
Lanisen blinks and studies the knight with uncertain apprehension. He apparently decides to go with relief. “Thank you, sir,” he says, then confides in an undertone, “Pretty sure she’s just sendin’ me after water all the time to keep me out from underfoot.”
Tyren hehs. “Knowing the cook, I don’t think that’s entirely unreasonable. I’ll be by in a bit.”
Lanisen glances down at the half-empty water-pail and raises it a bit. “Should prob’ly take this in to her, anyway…”
Tyren takes the pail himself. “I’ll do that. Something tells me I’ll never get a word in edgewise if she gathers what happened, which she likely would if you walked in like that.”
Lanisen seems reluctant to release the handle. “I can… uh, if I let you take it in, I’ll just get it later…”
Tyren says, “Perhaps not so badly if I can run a little damage control first. It was, after all, a simple accident.”
Lanisen doesn’t look convinced. He glances to the kitchen doorway nervously and shifts his weight. “All right, sir,” he says doubtfully, and releases the bucket handle.
Tyren gives a nod, taking the bucket and heading into the kitchens.
Lanisen loiters in the corridor, having changed into a dry tunic in record time. He stands near his doorway, apart from the main traffic, not in the way.
Tyren descends the stairwell, clearly having just changed into a fresh one himself. He gives a nod to Lanisen as he moves over. “Chances are we’ll want some privacy for this.”
Lanisen bows toward him quickly, starting to ask a question as he sees him. His expression turns uneasy. “For…what?”
Tyren hehs. “What I have to speak with you about, of course.”
Lanisen’s ears turn a bit red in acknowledgement of his stupid question.
Tyren asks, “Perhaps we might use your quarters?”
Lanisen uhs. “Sure, sir… it’s…” he nods toward the door to his quarters, waiting for Tyren to precede him in.
Tyren nods and does so.
Tyren glances around the room a bit as he enters, choosing to take up a spot near the window and leaning against the wall.
Lanisen follows him in, discreetly trying to straighten it up a little. He kicks the discarded wet tunic under the bed and straightens the rug with the toe of his boot. He clears off the one chair and stands back a little, clearly offering it to Tyren.
Tyren hehs quietly. “Thank you, but I get the feeling you’ll want that more than I will…” His expression becomes slightly more serious as he says this.
Lanisen’s forehead furrows with anxious confusion. He waits silently for Tyren to explain, keeping his eyes down.
Tyren continues to lean against the wall, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He finally decides to settle on starting with, “I feel you deserve to know what I’ve been up to this past month or two.”
Lanisen shifts. “Thought you were in Carmichael, sir,” he ventures.
Tyren hehs. “Only for part of the time. My cousin and I had separate duties, they just took us the same direction for a time. Dar saw to settling Armel and Loc, and I… I continued on.”
Lanisen says nothing in response to this, but he goes still with comprehension.
Tyren gives a small nod, as if to confirm what he seems to believe Lanisen to be thinking. “Acting on what you and Loc told us, I headed north, seeking out… well, the last of your number.”
Lanisen asks after a short pause, his voice cracking, “And?”
Tyren says, “I was to make my way to Cair Paravel and ask for Narnia’s aid in finding Myrd, and having done that, bringing him to justice. That, I was successful in.”
Lanisen asks, “What happened to him?”
Tyren says, “He is to remain in Narnia under the careful eye of her court. Should he set foot in Archenland again, his freedom is forfeit.”
Lanisen is silent for a moment. “That… the same for Jana?”
Tyren gives a small nod. “Similar, yes.”
Lanisen nods once. He stares at the floor, absorbing all this, very pale, and gives no other reaction.
Tyren is silent a moment before he speaks again, in a quieter, perhaps gentler tone than dbefore. “I know it’s likely not the judgment you were hoping for. You deserve the truth, however.”
Lanisen swallows. “Thank you, sir,” he says, his tone subdued.
Tyren gives a small nod. “If it aids any, he seemed to be more irked with Loc than you. He has no confirmation from me of how we obtained knowledge of his false death and likely direction of escape, either.”
Lanisen stirs, shifting his weight again, and shakes his head. “He wouldn’… he wouldn’t need any confirmation, sir,” he says in an almost contemplative murmur. “I… Loc didn’t know about Myrd survivin’ until… and Myrd sent the message to me. I knew they went to Narnia, just me. He knows.” He raises a hand to rub at his temple, and the hand is shaking.
Tyren moves over to place a firm, though not uncomfortably so, hand on Lanisen’s shoulder. “You did the right thing, whatever you may feel, Lanisen. And there is a certain calm to be had from that knowledge, if you seek it. Anvard will be kept informed of his movements, and we will do our best to see to your safety. You are, after all, in the castle’s employ now.”
Lanisen goes very still. He swallows again, his head still lowered, and takes a careful breath before he asks, “You said he’s… is… what about Loc?”
Tyren says, “I told Loc as well of the situation as it stands, as well as Lord Ast and Lady Priya. The pass will be watched. Loc himself does not seem to be letting his fear get the better of him.”
Lanisen doesn’t look at Tyren. He tenses slightly.
Tyren adds, “I assure you I will do what I can to see that Myrd does nothing to you. Either one of you.”
Lanisen nods without looking up.
Tyren nods a bit himself, removing his hand from Lanisen’s shoulder and moving a small distance away again. “That is, in short, what I wished to let you know. If there is anything else you wish further details on, however, you have but to ask and I will answer as I see proper.”
Lanisen takes a deep breath and takes a few steps backward until he finds the corner of his bed. He sits down, resting his knees on his elbows and his forehead on the heels of his hands for a moment, and nods mutely. “Myrd… he’s just got to… stay in Narnia, then?”
Tyren nods. “I discovered while I was there that he has… done some work in Narnia that has assisted the Narnian courts. As all his transgressions, then, were against Archenland, His Majesty King Edmund saw fit to restrict Myrd to Narnia, acting upon the court’s orders, and that he would be subject to the consequences of his actions here should he ever return.”
Lanisen asks, “What about Jana?”
Tyren says, “It is the same for her. Besides, I… do not think they will be quite so inclined to work independently anymore.”
Lanisen glances up at him blankly, then understands. “That’s… what he meant about the ring, then.”
Tyren says, “They are married now… as he described it, rather, an ‘arrangement.'”
Lanisen watches a beetle meander across the floor. “Doesn’t surprise me all that much,” he comments absently.
Tyren hehs. “Surprised me. But I suppose you saw more of them together than I did.”
Lanisen raises both eyebrows briefly. “S’pose so.” He is silent for a moment longer, his eyes unfocused. “They’re free, then? As long as they don’t try comin’ back south?”
Tyren says, “That depends how you wish to look upon it. As I have said, their movements will be restricted and watched, and they are both to continue their service to the Narnian court. They are free, then, in a similar manner that you and Loc are.”
Lanisen nods absently. “Thanks,” he says again, quietly.
Tyren simply nods again. “As I said, you deserved the truth. You did, after all, assist in bringing it about.”
Lanisen doesn’t look at him.
Tyren hehs. “Which is probably what’s making you fearful at such information, and understandable so. Yet, fear is what makes courage possible.”
Lanisen lets out a short breath, pauses, and says wryly, “Not feelin’ very courageous, sir, sorry.”
Tyren lifts a finger. “I said it made courage possible, not automatic. It does take work to find it.” He lowers the finger, clasping his hands behind his back. “The fear is understandable. However, if you let it overtake you, then you continue to allow yourself to be under Myrd’s command. If you wish to be truly /free/, then… you will need to find some way to obtain that courage. Even if it is difficult.”
Lanisen listens without much reaction, watching a beetle cross the floor. “Yes, sir,” he answers, rather wearily.
Tyren nods a bit, seeming to realize he’s not getting far with this line of thought at the moment. “We both have a few more duties to see to. If there is nothing else you would ask of me, I shall let us both get back to said duties.”
Lanisen nods, standing up to bow.
Tyren gives another nod. “And if there is anything else I can tell you, do come and find me. A good eve to you, Lanisen.” He quirks a small smile before he departs.
Lanisen answers simply, “You too, sir. Thanks.”
Tyren says, “You are quite welcome.”
Lanisen sits down again as he departs. He pulls up his knees and wraps his arms around them, staring at the floor.