Thedor 8, 228: Nightmares

Nightmares
Summary: Roslin awakes in teh wee hours after a vision from the Gods.
OOC Date: 8 January 2014
Related: Of Priests and Promises
Players:
Roslin Elisabeth 
Roslin's Rooms
A high four-poster bed with a canopy and curtains that fall to keep the warmth in.
Thedor 8, 228

As Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Roslin Kilgour, Elisabeth Haravean spends the night in her bed more often than not. For warmth, to chapperone the royal’s night activities, and in case anything is needed. It is a a common practice. Tonight is no different, and as the evening begins to fade, dawn will soon be here. The embers in the fire at the foot of the great bed are low - teh room is cold. A maid will be in shortly to restart them before either lady gets out of bed. Roslin, for her part, is facing the window, asleep, her red hair drawn into a braid. She wears a simple dress of undyed linen to sleep in.

But her sleep is not pleasant. For the second time in a week, Roslin is suddenly awake, gasping in surprise, looking around the room.

Given the chill of winter, the role as bedwarmer is a mutually beneficial one. Elisabeth has been sleeping well through most of the night. The arrival of the maid would spark the time when she would need arise and dress and get clothes and such ready for the princess. Given the proximity of the princess when she stirs suddenly in her sleep, Elisabeth blinks her eyes open quickly and looks to the princess. Seeing her panicked look she sits up and places an arm gently on the young woman’s arm. “It is alright, you are safe.” She murmurs in a soothing voice. “Another nightmare?”

Roslin turns at the arm on her shoulder, looking at Elisabeth. “Oh,” she breaths softly, her free hand moving to cover her heart. It’s pounding, rapidly - Elisabeth can likely tell at such close proximity. “No…” she says slowly. Her head begins to sha”I wke. She swallows, hard. “This was no nightmare,” she says, staring into the embers of the flames. Embers … like eyes …

“Sess,” she says the name barely above a whisper, turning her bewildered eyes to Elisabeth. She is no Princess here, not now. Just a lady, a young one at that, frightened by something that is in this room but cannot be seen. Or perhaps it was here, but now it is gone. “Sess has visited me this night, Elisabeth. And he is most unhappy.”

Elisabeth looks to the face of the princess, reaching a hand to stroke back any tendrils that might have gotten loose in her panic. At the mention of the form of her nightmare Elisabeth frowns and looks about the room before looking back to the princess. “Surely it was but a dark dream your highness, there is nothing and noone here but us.” She assures the princess then gazes about the room with a wary expression, drawing the sheets up for modesty. As if such could protect her should a God wish to see her.

“I wish it were,” Roslin says, bringing her hands up to cover her face - to cover her eyes. “He wore a cloak of brown. His skin was marked with red patterns, and his eyes were furious flames.” She lowers her hands from her eyes a moment, and indeed, those hands are trembling. “He swung his hammer at me. There was a woman there I did not know, but he saw me and he frowned and he swung a hammer at me.”

She turns to the maid beside her. “I think he may mean me harm. What could I have done to anger him so? Why would he harm me?” As if Elisabeth has those answers.

As Roslin speaks the description of Sess, Elisabeth looks about the room once more before hands go to sooth the princess. There is a thoughtful expression upon her face as the princess recounts her vision and she shakes her head. “Maybe his anger is not to you. Did you feel the blow in your vision? Perhaps he was merely pointing it at you, charging you to some task.” Elisabeth says though her voice is as uncertain as ever. “You have done nothing, your brother perhaps, but you have done nothing. I would protect you if I could from terrors in the night.”

“My brother,” Roslin says, as if echoing Elisabeth’s words. Thinking of her brother, that is enough to spurn her from the bed. She throws back the covers and reaches for the wine and pitcher on the table, both now cold. Her bare feet touch the area rug, and carry her over to pour herself a cup.

“My brother,” she says again, thoughtfully. The fear is partially gone, spurned away by the possibility of action. Action means control. Control means safety. “The scrolls. It must be those damned scrolls.” She flits her eyes back up to Elisabeth. “Tyrel can’t simply give them back. He has put too much of his own pride into this. Blessed Luna will have seen to that, and she will not let him forget his folly if he admits it. But what is to be done, then? What can appease him before he strikes?”

As Roslin jolts out of bed, Elisabeth is not far behind. She rings the bellpull to summon her maid early before grabbing her robe and heading to the hearth fire and attempting to stir the coals to bring some touch of warmth to the room. “It is a quandary your highness. He is in a position that if he re—s them at the demands of the temple he might seem weak, but if he withholds them and angers the Gods all the more…” Elisabeth shakes her head, “There is a fine line between stubborn pride and rightful pride if you would excuse me for being so bold. The nobles as well as the commonfolk might forgive one but less inclined to the other.”

“Perhaps you might treat with those at the temple? If they might make a concession, it might save face for your brother and all manners can be righted once more.”

Roslin shakes her head to that idea almost immediately. “No. Tyrel is in the right of this - I will not undermine his position.” She takes a deep breath, arms crossing in front of her for warmth as she stars off into the distance. In this small room the distance isn’t so terribly far, but her mind draws her away from the here and now.

“If it is true that this relates to the scrolls that are taken, then there is naught I can do but pray. These decisions are for Tyrel to make, and him alone.” She rubs her arms, chasing off the chill and the fear that comes with knowing a God has you in his sights. “When the girl comes, inform her that I intend to spend the day, from sunrise to sunset, in prayer here in my rooms. I would remain longer, but … Tyrel has asked to meet with me and the Laniveeri guests. I cannot turn that down.” She looks over at Elisabeth, searching her face for the woman’s opinion.

Elisabeth nods to the Princess as she speaks of her brother. “Of course, your highness. I would not want you to undermine your brother. I thought perhaps you only might talk with those in the temple. Maybe there is another option?” She shakes her head a bit. “This is all so much to consider and more than I have had to think on.”

Elisabeth moves over to Roslin and brings over a heavier robe for the Princess. “I will your highness. Do you wish to be alone or shall I join you in prayer. We pray to the god of Light in Greenshire, it seems that illumination is what we need here.” She offers so that the princess is not alone this day.

Roslin lowes her arms and leans back with them to allow Elisabeth to slide the robe onto her without turning around. She continues to stare off into the distance in thought.

“You need not stay with me,” Roslin says, finally turning around. “It may be good for you to have some time to yourself, to do the things you need or desire to do. But if you wish to stay, I will not disallow it. But if you do, stay for your own reasons. Not because you believe you should for me. In prayer I think I am safe enough alone.” She pulls the robe tightly around her and goes back to looking off into the distance.

“I will have to tell Tyrel. It will make his decisions so much harder. I wish I could keep it from him, but I do not think that is my right - nor, I think, would my courage allow it. I’m much too concerned about what I saw to do nothing about it.”

At the Princess’s words, Elisabeth does nod. “My brother is going back to sea, I would wish to spend some time with him. I will let my maid know where we decide to go should you have need of me. I will at least break the fast with you and at least do morning prayers.” She looks sympathetically to the Princess and nods to her last words. “Maybe it might sway him to find a solution that shall end this stalemate. The vision has sorely shaken you your highness.” She says before turning to see what is keeping the maid.

“It has,” Roslin admits, although she doesn’t like to do so. “Go ahead and get ready. I will be alright for a few minutes until the maid gets here. I won’t dress for a little while yet - the sun is still far away.” She turns and nods to Elisabeth, giving the girl an encouraging smile. “I’m sorry to have woken you, My Lady.”

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