Outer Ward
Castle Anvard

Abrielle nods and smiles sheepishly. “Of course. I am overwhelming you with questions.”

Freya frowns, still thinking. “T’was on ‘o those A-names. Not yer fault. I ought t’ know.”

Abrielle smiles. “Well…do not worry yourself over it.”

Lanisen slips out of the stable, mud on his boots. He’s got a small handful of white and red clover blossoms, bundled by their stems, which he is carrying casually.

Freya at last makes a noise of frustration. “Iffen that Lad Lanisen be about, he’d know.”

Abrielle looks over Freya’s head and smiles, pointing. “You might just be in luck!”

Lanisen pauses to let a cart pass, then begins to cross the ward toward the kennels.

Freya looks where Abrielle is pointing and waves in his direction. “Oy! Lad! O’er here!” To Abrielle she says, ” ‘E comes from t’ same place I do.”

Lanisen pauses, searching for the source of the shout. He finds them, hesitates, and then approaches a little warily.

Abrielle smiles. “Does he? I believe he may have mentioned that one time.”

Freya smiles, “Aye. He’s from Carmichael too. I think he’ll be stayin’ here longer, though.”

Lanisen slows and stops a little ways away, his eyes darting alertly from Freya to Abrielle and back. “Evenin’,” he offers, and ducks his head to them.

Abrielle bobs her head quickly. “Hello Lanisen.”

Freya nods as well. “Good eve, Lad! I was just discussin’ my teachin’ and learnin’ at t’ castle and I plum fergit t’ name o’ the head healer here. A-something.”

Lanisen says, “A– oh, you, it’s Adrian, ma’am.”

Abrielle bobs her head quickly. “Hello Lanisen.”
Abrielle nods. “I couldn’t think of who else it would be.”

Freya snaps her fingers. “Adrian! That’s t’ name! Thank you, Lad. I won’t keep ye further iffen ye be in a hurry.” She gestures to the clovers in his hand. “Ye ken blame me iffen I’m keepin’ yer Miss waitin’.”

Lanisen looks down at the flowers as if he’d forgotten them, then blushes. “It’s not– I don’t, I don’t have a miss.”

Abrielle’s eyes flicker from Lanisen then to Freya and back.

Freya raises an eyebrow. “Or maybe I’m getting it wrong. Sometimes ye o’ long legs call things a bit differently. I dunno. Best o’ luck to ye, though.”

Lanisen pushes his mouth to the side and gives the clovers a rather helpless look.

Abrielle glances at the clovers and then looks at Freya with a small smile. “It was nice to meet you…but I really should be going. If you need anything else please feel free to seek me out.”

Freya ohs! “Don’t let me keep ye here with me yammering, Miss Abrielle! I’ll treat ye t’ something nice t’ eat in thanks iffen ye have more time next time I see ye.”

Abrielle smiles at Freya. bobs her head once again to Lanisen and turns on her heel to go.

Lanisen nods to Abrielle as she goes. He glances back at Freya, rubbing his elbow self-consciously.

Freya waves goodbye to Abrielle in farewell and then turns back to Lanisen. Her voice drops a little. “Ye be in pain?”

Lanisen asks, “I– what–? No, no, I’m, I’m fine, thank you.”

Freya nods up at him, “Alright, then, lad. Just know I dinnae e’er bit anyone an’ I don’t intend t’ start. Ye needn’t be afeard o’ me.”

Lanisen says, “No, ma’am.”

Megren comes out of the stables. She is not merely dusty, but has smears of dirt across one arm. Seeing Lanisen in the ward, she veers off that way.

Freya nods again. “Well, I ought t’ find a place t’ eat now that I’ve found t’ castle again. Thank ‘e fer yer help.”

Lanisen says, “There’s, there’s always somethin’ in the kitchen for folks who work here. Otherwise, er…” He pauses, turning in place to check which stalls are still open, and in the process catching sight of Megren. He gives her a quick, slightly distracted grin of greeting and turns back to Freya, gesturing at a cart with a yellow tarp. “That fellow sells handpies with venison and potatoes in ’em, fill you right up.”

Megren pokes Lanisen in the side as she passes, “Hey, are you busy? I need help with something.”

Lanisen jumps and turns slightly to fix her with an exasperated stink-eye. He turns back to Freya, dips his head, and says, “‘Scuse me, mistress.”

Freya grins, “Aye, pies sound right perfect. Thank ‘e again and a good eve t’ ye.” She waves to Megren and then heads for the cart with the yellow tarp.

Megren exclaims, “Oh,” she nods, to the dwarf. “Hello!” and then tugs Lanisen toward the kennel.”

Lanisen follows after Megren, jogging a couple of steps to keep up.


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