Famh gives her lady-in-waiting a look that is courteous enough, but absolutely firm.  "No thank you, lady Ailsa.  I do not require a bath at the moment.  I will be going out with my fiance to shop for something more suitable to wear at the Duke's table than my old earasaid; and there will be time to bathe and freshen up.  And I need to discuss something ... rather private with him.  If you'd like to attend me on the trip I don't mind; but please give us some privacy until I beckon you we're done."

---+++---+++---

Once they are safely out of Sewark Keep, Famh gives Cainneach a happy smile.  True, she has been doing a lot of that lately; but he thinks he might long cherish the memory of this one, because of the peace it is bringing to his Famh's face after their long season of terrors and alarums.  And her voice is much more at ease than it has been at least since the departure from Port Clyster as she takes his hand and begins to talk.  He was probably expecting that too. ;)  "Now I ken ye'd rather leave Salt be the only one who has to 'put on the dog' tonight, and I certainly adore that soft pair of breeks and tunic ye have on."

"But ... ummm ... I didn't want to embarrass ye in front of the retinue, but I noticed as you were helping me get the chest in place that one of Salt's claws has ... um .. torn your breeks behind.  Your plaid and tunic hide it now, but I think you'd best get a new pair.  It's in a place where it'll be far more noticeable as you go to sit down.  The rest ought to be fine though ... I don't suppose we'll have too prominent a role tonight, as the whole purpose is for this Duke Carnasse to talk with our Baron not with us.  If you'd like, I 'll help you look over your things before we leave quarters tonight to make sure there's no other tears or spots who are too obvious."

"I'll be wanting to get all new things, of course, but that's because the ladies will be inspecting me a lot more closely than they will you. At least they'd BETTER be!!!"

The sudden flash of her eyes and momentary snap in her voice reminds him that while she may be a much gentler Famh than she was, his half-changeling lass is still a Thulishwoman.  And the jealousy of a Thulishwoman is legendary, one of the Three Great Conflagrations which an ancient englyn cautions its hearer against kindling!  And as for a Thulishwoman scorned ... !!!!!!!!! ... ... ...  Fortunately there is no actual cause for her jealousy, since none of the ladies of the court she's been talking about is anywhere in sight, and she's always found Cainneach most satisfactorily attentive and faithful anyway.  And his fidelity has been proven under the refiner's fire, as it has had to withstand the constant presence of at least one other woman in the retinue itself and a number of others encountered along the way, both living and dead.  ;-D*  The speed with which the jealous flash in her eyes is replaced once more with happiness and love gives him hopes that even if the imagined ladies were to cast eyes upon him at the dinner, she would most likely not blame him for their attentions.

         He thinks.

After a moment, she finishes up as if nothing had happened, "Besides, we may never be this rich again. Let's enjoy some of it, dearest, even if we put by the rest. And it doesn't have to be just clothes. I could do with a mug of ale first if you could, and one we've earned by the sweat of our hands at that."  Her metaphors may be mixed, but her joy is clear as she begins to retrace the route she came by with the retinue, tugging Cainneach along and whistling to Salt as she quickens her pace, wanting to give the faithful hound another long-needed run to make up for at least one of the ones he had been deprived of aboard the Linden.  And so it is that while Cainneach is procuring his armor and the remaining garments necessary to complete his ensemble, Famh carefully selects a new earasaid with matching belt and shoulder pin inlaid with mother of pearl and silver..  After some internal debate she sighs and chooses a dress in her proper clan colors as one born in Laird Erek's domain of Brymstone.  To this she adds 

---+++---+++---

* She may even have had to contend with at least one other faerie rival; she wasn't sure she liked the look in that dryad's eyes across the river back in Hob's Dell. She was sure she'd caught the little green hussy casting her eyes over every single man in the group as she pretended to be warning them all about Tuannan Dur; and she knew for a fact she'd stared at Cainneach the longest. And even THAT hadn't tempted the dear sweet boy! ...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(I'm on vacation, so some thoughts may be a little scattershot ...)

Cainneach and Salt frown at each other at Almeric's mention of smelling like a wet dog.  "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, Salt!  It's not like you can help it.  If we can find someone willing to lend a tub, I'll get you and I cleaned up.  Although I feel like we got a few good baths in courtesy of the Mergeld Sea.  Still have to figure out about clothes, though ..."

The pair were about to accompany Famh to town, although he had no idea what help he might be, other than keeping her focused and cheered.  However, these ladies-in-waiting swoop in upon request and usher her and Tana off to who knows where.

With Thatch's help, Cainneach finds his way with Salt to the stable, where he washes the wiry hound.  On the way through the town, Cainneach spots a fine suit of Studded Leather armour, which he procures using funds from the retinue purse.  He reluctantly sells off his patched together Leather armour, but there's no sense in being sentimental about it.  They return to the keep, with one of them cleaned up.  After consulting with Fergus and one of the staff of the Duke's household, Cainneach exchanges his Traveler's Clothes for a set of clean Common Clothes that he will wear while his heavier outdoor wear is laundered.  Cainneach bathes (in his room?), while Salt gnaws on a bone they scavenged from the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Quote from Bonivant1>>

Almeric will take a long bath and allow himself to relax for the first time since they left Gorham. He will also bask in the glory of his achievements thus far; Recovering the body of Harold the Tax Collector from Hob's Del, avoiding death at the hands of Tuannon Dur. Escaping and evading Beorn to warn Aldred of his treachury, avoiding death aswell. Destroying the Blue Moon Demon and neutraling the Temple, avoiding death and demonic possession.

After a shave, Almeric will dress in his banquette clothes, a silk brochade tunic in the Dayne Colours, matching hose over fresh and clean linens. A small silk embroidered path of Aldreds Arms was a new addition, over his left breast. Strapping on his sword and clean boots, Almeric left with hours to spare to stroll around the keep. Taking in his surroundings, nodding and smiling to everyone he meets, he checks upon the Baron, to confirm when Aldred will be ready for dinner.

Almeric will visit the Guard House and pay his respects to the Keep Commander, sharing a few war stories and assessing the tactical situation and defences of the castle. Almeric really wants to build friendships and contacts here. Almeric will ensure to collect Aldred in plenty of time to arrive promptly at the banquette with his master

Baron Aldred confirms he will be ready within the hour and nods with a slight smirk at Aldreds newest addition to his outfit, he also thanks Almeric for his efforts and the stoicism and professionalism of his retinue....the Baron has apparently been keeping a closer eye than it appeared and he especially notes that Almeric has made a fine choice in his 2IC....he also makes a sly comment regarding the burgeoning romance within the companions.  

On ALmerics travails around the Keep and town he notes many instances that would perhaps be unacceptable among the Barons household and certainly among the Orders and more southern courts.  The men and women here seem competent guards and have strong martial instincts but there is a certain relaxed and undisciplined way to them and their conduct.....which extends to most of the staff and servants as well.  Scullery maids and menials who would lower their heads and bow deeply on the continent or indeed in southern Ellesland still bow but they look him boldly in the eye as they do so and seem to have no problem with calling a spade a spade and correcting those above them in station if necessary......in a way it reminds him of his time in the field in Outremer where civility and structure gave way to practicality and needs must.

Quote from OisinmacCameron >>

Famh gives her lady-in-waiting a look that is courteous enough, but absolutely firm.  "No thank you, lady Ailsa.  I do not require a bath at the moment.  I will be going out with my fiance to shop for something more suitable to wear at the Duke's table than my old earasaid; and there will be time to bathe and freshen up.  And I need to discuss something ... rather private with him.  If you'd like to attend me on the trip I don't mind; but please give us some privacy until I beckon you we're done."

---+++---+++---

Once they are safely out of Sewark Keep, Famh gives Cainneach a happy smile.  True, she has been doing a lot of that lately; but he thinks he might long cherish the memory of this one, because of the peace it is bringing to his Famh's face after their long season of terrors and alarums.  And her voice is much more at ease than it has been at least since the departure from Port Clyster as she takes his hand and begins to talk.  He was probably expecting that too. ;)  "Now I ken ye'd rather leave Salt be the only one who has to 'put on the dog' tonight, and I certainly adore that soft pair of breeks and tunic ye have on."

"But ... ummm ... I didn't want to embarrass ye in front of the retinue, but I noticed as you were helping me get the chest in place that one of Salt's claws has ... um .. torn your breeks behind.  Your plaid and tunic hide it now, but I think you'd best get a new pair.  It's in a place where it'll be far more noticeable as you go to sit down.  The rest ought to be fine though ... I don't suppose we'll have too prominent a role tonight, as the whole purpose is for this Duke Carnasse to talk with our Baron not with us.  If you'd like, I 'll help you look over your things before we leave quarters tonight to make sure there's no other tears or spots who are too obvious."

"I'll be wanting to get all new things, of course, but that's because the ladies will be inspecting me a lot more closely than they will you. At least they'd BETTER be!!!"

The sudden flash of her eyes and momentary snap in her voice reminds him that while she may be a much gentler Famh than she was, his half-changeling lass is still a Thulishwoman.  And the jealousy of a Thulishwoman is legendary, one of the Three Great Conflagrations which an ancient englyn cautions its hearer against kindling!  And as for a Thulishwoman scorned ... !!!!!!!!! ... ... ...  Fortunately there is no actual cause for her jealousy, since none of the ladies of the court she's been talking about is anywhere in sight, and she's always found Cainneach most satisfactorily attentive and faithful anyway.  And his fidelity has been proven under the refiner's fire, as it has had to withstand the constant presence of at least one other woman in the retinue itself and a number of others encountered along the way, both living and dead.  ;-D*  The speed with which the jealous flash in her eyes is replaced once more with happiness and love gives him hopes that even if the imagined ladies were to cast eyes upon him at the dinner, she would most likely not blame him for their attentions.

         He thinks.

After a moment, she finishes up as if nothing had happened, "Besides, we may never be this rich again. Let's enjoy some of it, dearest, even if we put by the rest. And it doesn't have to be just clothes. I could do with a mug of ale first if you could, and one we've earned by the sweat of our hands at that."  Her metaphors may be mixed, but her joy is clear as she begins to retrace the route she came by with the retinue, tugging Cainneach along and whistling to Salt as she quickens her pace, wanting to give the faithful hound another long-needed run to make up for at least one of the ones he had been deprived of aboard the Linden.  And so it is that while Cainneach is procuring his armor and the remaining garments necessary to complete his ensemble, Famh carefully selects a new earasaid with matching belt and shoulder pin inlaid with mother of pearl and silver..  After some internal debate she sighs and chooses a dress in her proper clan colors as one born in Laird Erek's domain of Brymstone.  To this she adds 

---+++---+++---

* She may even have had to contend with at least one other faerie rival; she wasn't sure she liked the look in that dryad's eyes across the river back in Hob's Dell. She was sure she'd caught the little green hussy casting her eyes over every single man in the group as she pretended to be warning them all about Tuannan Dur; and she knew for a fact she'd stared at Cainneach the longest. And even THAT hadn't tempted the dear sweet boy! ...

Alisa does indeed accompany them, ' to help carry your purchases', though she stays well from the two and tries her best to keep a neutral expression the entire time despite the, not as subtle as they may think, display going on before her. She does look very approving of both Famh and Cainneachs purchases, holding Famhs for her but allowing Cainneach to carry his own rather more weighty purchase. She smiles down at Salt as they take a breather and shares with him a little of her cheese and bread which seems to win his approval of her at least.....she makes careful effort not to look for said sundered breeches as she has already learned that a certain cat-fiadhaich is not unwilling to use her claws.....

(Travelling back today, just trying to piece together what I wrote with what Famh and DM wrote ...)

Cainneach has a bit of whiplash as Famh pulls a here, there, and here again and he finds himself pulled along through town with Salt and the good sport, Lady Ailsa, in tow.  Cainneach smiles apologetically at the Lady, having a sense that Famh may have overstepped in her refusal.  Ailsa's reluctance to carry his new armour notwithstanding, he would be sure not to burden the Lady anymore than Famh was with her new purchases.

Salt seemed happy enough, especially after his bath, which Ailsa seemed to appreciate as well.  As for the accusation that the hound had caused any tears in his garments, well Salt would have shrugged those away if that were a thing dogs do.  Apparently Famh hadn't seen the usual state of Cainneach's garments.  These fine new threads were quite a change, and as Fergus noted, looked quite sharp.  He is quite pleased with the armour as well, but will keep it stashed in his room, as it's not yet broken in properly to be comfortable, and a bit warm as noted.

Regarding his clan tartan, Cainneach had only managed to keep a scrap as a memento, the remainder having been lost to the wear and tear of life in the wilds.  Fortunately, in the market Cainneach tracked down a vendor with a pattern that wasn't quite his clan's, but was the "district" tartan.  He was a little surprised to see this and suspected that this tailor hailed from the region of his home.  He gave a little extra tip when paying and made a note of the location of this stall, hoping to have time to return and inquire.

In general, Cainneach remains basically oblivious to Famh's jealousy and will continue to be polite and open to discussions with any friendly people they meet, women included.  He has never thought of himself as being particularly handsome (10 CHA, maybe more due to social isolation?), so it doesn't occur to him that any other women would be interested in him, despite what Famh might imply.

When Sir Almeric names Ori his deputy, Thatch gives the man a friendly elbow that catches him right above the waist. “Looks like you caught the good ser’s eye, do us a favor and keep us out of trouble, big guy.”   Thatch is quickly caught into a flurry of activity as the ship arrives at the harbor and the retinue makes their way to the castle.  He helps move what supplies and equipment is needed in some cases, and avoids being caught underfoot in others.  He manages to find the stables relatively quickly and is happy to help Cainneach give Salt a bath.  He is also sure to check in with the keep’s Constable and stable master to inquire as to what stock is available, just in case the Baron has a need to travel in the nearby area, and also takes the time to share stories with the grooms and stableboys, trying to learn what he can of recent happenings and rumors about the castle and city.  

Heeding Ser Almeric’s instructions, Thatch draws a small amount of funds from Fergus and makes a quick trip to the market to upgrade his common and well-worn clothes with a new set of boots, wool breeches, a clean shirt and a jacket.  Returning to rooms he likely shares with Ori and Cainneach, he is freshly scrubbed for the first time in what feels like weeks.  He dresses for dinner, trying to look presentable but inconspicuous and secures his weapons in the chest in the room.  He lingers over his gladius, reluctant to part with it, but finally puts it with his other weapons to avoid questions over its appearance and history.  Instead, he displays a simple dagger on his belt and keeps another one well-hidden on his body.  Finally ready, the enormity of what he is about to do hits him at last. A bloody dinner party with the Baron and a Duke, and a foreign one at that!  If the old farrier could see him now.  He swallows the lump in his throat and asks the other companions nearby “Anyone dine with a Duke before?”

At the appointed time, Almeric makes a visitation of all the Retinue in their rooms to check all are ready. Ensuring all are attired and armed suitable, as befits their ranks and status, as well as armour and artefacts. Almeric informs the Retinue that the Baron is ready to join the banquette shortly. All should meet outside the Barons quarters momentarily, to process together to the banquette. Almeric reminds all NOT to get drunk as vigilance is still required, even in an allies keep, and that use of artefacts and magic are ONLY to be used in the event of a direct attack on the Baron or the Duke.

Visiting Famh, Almeric is sincerely glad to see that Lady Ailsa appears amused and relaxed by an afternoon with Fahm et al, and not annoyed or frustrated as he feared. He will express profound gratitude for the good lady's grace and favour, promising a dance with Ailsa later.

Visiting Ori, Almeric reminds him that he may wear his arming jack with a sword, but not his hauberk and great club, as befits his rank of Sergeant-at-Arms. Almeric updates Ori on his security assessment of the Keep, highlighting the 'weak' areas as Almeric see them. 

Visiting Fergus, Almeric checks that the scribe still has the jewelled chalice with the glowing gem. This was certainly the most valuable piece of their treasure which was not cursed. Almeric was mindful that he needed to acquire the cost of a full plate harness and this would definitely help.

The Retinue assembled at the Baron's quarters, they presented themselves for inspection before escorting their lord to the banquette.

( Pause to let Ori and Tana weigh in.)

(apologies all.  Ran out of internet before Famh ran out of shopping; and she certainly means what she said to Lady Ailsa about seeing if there's time for a bath when they get back.  In consideration, recognition, and appreciation for your patience with many a rambling Famh, I will omit more than a continuity quote)

...  And so it is that while Cainneach is procuring his armor and the remaining garments necessary to complete his ensemble, Famh carefully selects a new earasaid with matching belt and shoulder pin inlaid with mother of pearl and silver..  After some internal debate she sighs and chooses a dress in her proper clan colors as one born in Laird Erek's domain of Brymstone.  To this she adds ...

... a sturdy leathern backpack to contain her gear properly; a satchel containing a set of tailor's tools to go with her 'needle'; several lengths of heavy felt, wool, and cotton; and a small steel mirror.  When Cainneach asks her what need she envisions this last item meeting on the road, she only smiles coyly at him and pats his hand.  Being back in Thuland, and reluctantly remembering its always wet and cold here, she parts with the comparatively few more silver shillings it costs to replace her outer plaid also.  She adds the old one to her bundle of cloth after picking a few threads out where one edge was beginning to fray.

On her return to the Keep, Famh heads straight for the baths. The objection she raised with Lady Ailsa was purely one of timing, not any reluctance on her part concerning the bath itself. She never had the chance before she became part of the retinue to enjoy a proper bath at all.  And the baths at Aldred Castle, while nice, had not the supreme advantage of a natural hot spring to supply the water.  The consequence was that by the time the household servants had filled the tub bucket by bucket from the boiler the water often wasn't much warmer than a shallow stream pool in summer.   She is crossing her fingers AND toes now, hoping it wasn't just a wild travelers' rumour she'd heard that Sewark's baths do have such a spring as their foundation.

She and Ailsa have just turned into the corridor leading to the baths when they run into Sir Almeric on his way out, as impeccably groomed and barbered as she would have expected of him for this occasion.  She smiles broadly as she greets the Capellar.  "Thank you so much, Sir Almeric, for arranging for Lady Ailsa to help me tonight.   I'm afraid I may have been a bit curt with her at first, as I was worried about ... something.  But she's been wonderful the whole trip, and gave nothing but the highest satisfaction.  And she was most patient as I kept seeing more and more things I needed."  As she speaks, she half-turns to include Ailsa in her smile.  Unless either responds, she goes on to bathe and then dress for dinner in her new things.  She carefully arranges her dearg and sgeain dhu in their traditional positions and even more carefully peacebonds them with green wool, and leaves all her other arms behind with the rest of her traveling

==================

(and as Ailsa means 'elf-victory'  in Thulish Gaelic [and that adopted from Mercanian roots, mind] its quite natural that Famh's beginning to like her.]

Quote from LAXGunner >>

When Sir Almeric names Ori his deputy, Thatch gives the man a friendly elbow that catches him right above the waist. “Looks like you caught the good ser’s eye, do us a favor and keep us out of trouble, big guy.”   Thatch is quickly caught into a flurry of activity as the ship arrives at the harbor and the retinue makes their way to the castle.  He helps move what supplies and equipment is needed in some cases, and avoids being caught underfoot in others.  He manages to find the stables relatively quickly and is happy to help Cainneach give Salt a bath.  He is also sure to check in with the keep’s Constable and stable master to inquire as to what stock is available, just in case the Baron has a need to travel in the nearby area, and also takes the time to share stories with the grooms and stableboys, trying to learn what he can of recent happenings and rumors about the castle and city.  

Heeding Ser Almeric’s instructions, Thatch draws a small amount of funds from Fergus and makes a quick trip to the market to upgrade his common and well-worn clothes with a new set of boots, wool breeches, a clean shirt and a jacket.  Returning to rooms he likely shares with Ori and Cainneach, he is freshly scrubbed for the first time in what feels like weeks.  He dresses for dinner, trying to look presentable but inconspicuous and secures his weapons in the chest in the room.  He lingers over his gladius, reluctant to part with it, but finally puts it with his other weapons to avoid questions over its appearance and history.  Instead, he displays a simple dagger on his belt and keeps another one well-hidden on his body.  Finally ready, the enormity of what he is about to do hits him at last. A bloody dinner party with the Baron and a Duke, and a foreign one at that!  If the old farrier could see him now.  He swallows the lump in his throat and asks the other companions nearby “Anyone dine with a Duke before?”

Cainneach settles in with his roommates, Ori and Thatch.  Looking at the three of them, it's hard to believe that just days ago they were drenched, filthy, locked in combat with moon demons, and liberating seal-lyons from sunken temples.  Now, they were quite the dapper crew, looking quite presentable in the colours of the Baron's household.  "Ori, now you look fit to lead us ... to dinner, that is!  If you try to relax a bit and look comfortable in these fancy threads, I'll do the same.  And Thatch, thanks again for your help with getting Salt cleaned up.  Too bad the hound doesn't get a fancy outfit, but he'd probably be even more out of sorts in it than I am."  Cainneach shifts around in his new garb yet again, then glances at the mirror, hoping that everything is settled properly.  He grimaces a little and shakes his head, realizing he doesn't even know how this outfit is supposed to look.  Salt looks up at the three companions and gives a little bark of encouragement.

After Thatch's very pertinent question, Cainneach responds, "I know I'm forgetting the Daynes, but you're the most noble fella I know, Thatch.  Just be yourself, that should be plenty.  Besides, this Duke doesn't seem to care too much for manners and ceremony.  Seems more like our kind of guy, although probably best to stay on his good side."

Ori found himself in another one of his moods, the sea apparently brings it out of him. Normally the jovial big man needs a catalyst to trigger his temper, so he usually skips over the sour mood and goes straight to break skulls mode. But the sea decided it was time to wipe the snarky grin that is Ori's resting face, for this lumbering henchmen look. Ori didn't even hide the fact that he could see through the Duke's men's disguises, if that's even what they were trying to do, they stuck out like sore thumbs to Ori, there is more to blending in then clothes. Ori hangs back from Almeric as much as he dares, he wasn't good with proper decorum and he wasn't in the state of mind to hide it either. He nodded when his name was mentioned and didn't do much for bowing, hopefully his distance as they made introductions was enough to not offend anyone.

On the walk through town, Ori spent most of his time watching those they traveled with, the others could learn the town. As they walked, his stomach flips seemed to start to be wrapping their performance and Ori started to gain a bit of energy back. He hadn't realized he had been closer to dragging the club more then carrying it. Flipping it up to rest onto his shoulder he started to realize the sort of appearance he was showing, in company of the Duke no less. Best make it look more like he's just carrying for lack of a better way to walk around with it, which was the truth, more then looking like he ready to use it. 

When in his room and Almeric's mini tutorial of what is expected of him now with this new rank, he realized his thread bared padded shirt probably wouldn't pass as presentable. Not thrilled to leave both his breastplate and his club behind, he debated showing up threadless as that's hiw he would feel walking out there. He decided to request of Cainneach to buy him something new and befitting of his new title while out with Fahm at the shops. When asked what constitute being fit, Ori simply shrugs. "Oi, one more thing, I guess I need a side sword good for picking your neighbors teeth, grab me one of those too." He looks at the size of his hands, "Better make it a bigger one, aye."

Ori spent most of his time resting in his room trying to best the seas efforts to make him utterly useless. Laying in bed, he starts contemplating this new title. It's going to be hard to blend into a crowd now. We'll he was good at hiding in plain sight , this was just going to make that slightly more difficult. Possibly tomorrow he woukd make some rounds on the spots around that Almeric showed concern with. 

After Ori tries on all his newly obtained attire that he was "allowd" to wear "I feel like a sausage with a cloth thrown over it. Are you sure this was biggest one they had at the shop?" Undoing most of the strapping around his chest, being a bit more showy then he intended, he could atleast beath without fear of ripping it. "Well lads, if we are going to go this far might as go comfortably!" Ori  rips the sleeves off the garment, "There's some more material the let the chest out of this casing. Anybody got a needle so we can find some who knows how to clean up this new seam?"

Quote from Engineered_Beard >>

When in his room and Almeric's mini tutorial of what is expected of him now with this new rank, he realized his thread bared padded shirt probably wouldn't pass as presentable. Not thrilled to leave both his breastplate and his club behind, he debated showing up threadless as that's hiw he would feel walking out there. He decided to request of Cainneach to buy him something new and befitting of his new title while out with Fahm at the shops. When asked what constitute being fit, Ori simply shrugs. "Oi, one more thing, I guess I need a side sword good for picking your neighbors teeth, grab me one of those too." He looks at the size of his hands, "Better make it a bigger one, aye."

. . . . .

After Ori tries on all his newly obtained attire that he was "allowd" to wear "I feel like a sausage with a cloth thrown over it. Are you sure this was biggest one they had at the shop?" Undoing most of the strapping around his chest, being a bit more showy then he intended, he could atleast beath without fear of ripping it. "Well lads, if we are going to go this far might as go comfortably!" Ori  rips the sleeves off the garment, "There's some more material the let the chest out of this casing. Anybody got a needle so we can find some who knows how to clean up this new seam?"

Cainneach is happy to oblige, although it is difficult for him to both accurately estimate Ori's size and to relate it to the vendors in their parlance.  He buys the largest things on hand, but gets the feeling that a man of Ori's stature would require custom tailoring, maybe with a sail from the Linden, to accommodate his impressive stature.  As for a sword, under normal circumstances, he'd be happy to lend him one of his own, but the ursine shortsword would be too small and carried too much personal significance to Cainneach, and he doubted that he could gift Vallandar's longsword to Ori even if he tried.  Instead, he tracks down a fine-looking, but functional greatsword that should serve the big man well.  "At least I've got one of the things he's asked for properly fit, I think ..."

After Ori partially destroys his new garments, Cainneach grimaces, but does offer up, "I'm sorry, Ori, that was truly the largest I could find ... but you might be in luck.  Famh is pretty handy with a needle and thread, and just acquired some more kit for that sort of thing.  I'll ask her, hopefully she can help you out!"

The forester wanders off to where he thinks Famh's room is and finds Lady Ailsa stepping out of the door.  "Oh, milady, thanks again for your assistance in the market today, you have no idea how useful that was!  Is Famh available?  One of our retinue is in need of some quick tailoring and she has some skill in that."

Alisa looked Cainneach up and down, " The bear then?  I didnae think he's fit into most of anything.  Though I can help him with his garment if you and Famh would rather spend a little quiet time together.....I'll probably be an while....", there was something about the way she said the last and her face was perfectly composed but Cainneach couldn't excape the idea that he was perhaps the butt of a mild joke of some sort.

Quote from Damian_May >>

Alisa looked Cainneach up and down, " The bear then?  I didnae think he's fit into most of anything.  Though I can help him with his garment if you and Famh would rather spend a little quiet time together.....I'll probably be an while....", there was something about the way she said the last and her face was perfectly composed but Cainneach couldn't excape the idea that he was perhaps the butt of a mild joke of some sort.

Cainneach's eyes narrow slightly and his brow furrows while he thinks to himself, "Time alone with Famh would be nice, but I'm not sure if that would be untoward in a place like this.  I feel like perhaps the Lady hath laid a trap for me ..."

Insight 23

The forester's uncertainty regarding Lady Ailsa's comments create a very unpleasant anxiety and he stammers back to her, "I, I wouldn't want to, uh, interrupt Famh while she is relaxing and preparing for dinner this evening.  Probably best if I accompany you back to our room.  Wouldn't want you to get lost on the way..."  He trails off, blushing, realizing how stupid that last remark was.

Lady Alisa is brought back to the room and immediately tells Ori to take the item of clothing off so she can fix it, looking it over she goes to work splitting the sides and using one of the tunics Baron Aldred had provided inserts the thinner material to allow more movement around the midsection and shoulders, she cocks an eyebrow at the torn off sleeves taking the rear of the Aldred tunic and splitting it in two to create two wide loose sleeves with fitted wrists and double stitches the shoulders. Spying the mask her eyes narrow and she fetches some other material swatches from her bag to open and rework the neckline.  Apparently satisfied with her work she tells Ori to don it and turn about...

.......................................................

Thatch watches with interest, mostly at Oris facial expressions as he is prodded and manhandled for measurements and the like.  His conversations with the stable and livery staff had been somewhat illuminating and the talk of the house supported his impression of Duke Carnasse as a practical man with little use for the finer things in life....though perhaps a little too much love of uisge beatha.  

Tana is provided with a simple plaid smock dress held with a brass pin which suits her well enough. And complements Famhs slightly more fitted look as the two ladies join their compatriots and Sir Almeric does his ' inspection'.

Baron Aldred emerges from his room with his attendants and gives a nod to Sir Almeric and Ori, then begins to walk downstairs towards the Hall.

""Oh, thank you for showing me this, Lady Ailsa!  I didn't know the earasaid could be draped so elegantly.  But then, I grew up in Laird Erek's demesne and didn't manage to pick up all the refinements as I might have in a Duke's court."   Famh turns about once to look herself over in the polished bronze mirror hanging on the wall.  "The whole outfit is perfect, and I can't wait see how Cainneach likes these lovely ringlets and plaits you've done my hair up in.  I don't think I'll need anything more before dinner, if there are any preparations of your own you still need to finish."

Famh's brave face has lasted long enough  to get back to the ladies' quarters that have been assigned to her and Tana, and she maintains it a little longer to allow time for the lady-in-waiting to have gotten out of earshot.  She thinks she hears Cainneach's voice as the door closes, asking about something or other, and is torn between the urge to run to him for comfort and her sense that he is nearly as overwhelmed as she and needs time to himself.  The moment passes while she is debating, and his voice recedes.  Then she collapses into a small huddled figure sitting on the edge of the bed.

They were getting along quite well now.  But from the look that had crossed Lady Ailsa's face when they'd first spoken, Famh fears that she had initially found her ... petulant.  Perhaps even indulgent, or arrogant.   But she hadn't meant that at all!   She sits on the edge of her bed with the tears catching in her throat, none ever quite spilling over and giving her relief. She'd never felt so lost, or so stupid, or so far from what little home she'd ever known.

Until Cainneach, Famh has never been able to sense predictably how anyone else felt about her, or the effect her words and actions were having on them.  This held true across all levels of society, most if not all of the time.  But most especially -- ...She had no idea how to talk to a highborn lady!  She'd only been trying to get some privacy to tell Cainneach something rather delicate, and she hadn't even known she would be getting a lady-in-waiting at all until they were just about to go out.  But slow though she may be to pick subtleties of emotion, certain looks she has drawn most of her life and are all too painfully familiar; and these do eventually sink in.  And Famh is far from stupid ... just constitutionally different through no fault of her own.

. "I only tried to talk to her as formally as I thought she'd expect to be addressed.," a little forlorn voice she barely recognizes as her own whispers. "I never meant to offend her ... or to have her laugh at me!!!" She buries her head in her hands. "That amused look I caught in her eyes as she was leaving ... oh, Gatanades, who the hell am I fooling? I'm just a lowborn half-fey brat playing dressup and dollies in a world that's far too high for me to even begin to understand ... " The image comes back, at exactly the wrong moment, of the mother she lost so many years ago; and finally, Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich starts to cry.

By the time Sir Almeric knocks on their door to collect the ladies for dinner, Famh has regained most of her composure.  The corners of her eyes are still a little red, perhaps; but she at least managed not to dishevel the elaborate coiffure Lady Ailsa had spent so much time on.  After all, she reflects, the lady-in-waiting had only thrown amused glances, not stones.  Famh has known a lot worse in her life; and she also gives Ailsa full credit for all her hard work.  And her subtlety ... she could well have done her understated non-verbal mockery far more openly, and Famh knows she would have been in no position to resent it.

In fact, as Ailsa and Tana's lady-in-waiting take up their appointed positions in the procession beginning to head towards the Great Hall, Famh thinks she can get along with the Beltaynish lady quite nicely   She will simply have to maintain a certain degree of reserve, instead of either shutting her out completely or baring her soul immediately ... the only two responses she has known till now.

(I'm imagining a "marching order" of Almeric, Ori+Fergus, Tana+Famh, Ladies-in-Waiting, Thatch+Cainneach+Salt? ...)

Lady Ailsa leaves their room after completing her rehabilitation of Ori's clothes.  Cainneach is stunned by the work and finds himself staring at Ori, trying to mentally connect the mangled outfit and what the big man was now wearing.  "Wow, Ori.  I don't think the Lady used any magic, but I wouldn't have guessed such a thing would be possible without it!  Now we all look fit for our little parade and dinner, I think."

They're interrupted by Almeric's summons for line-up and inspection.  Cainneach has been so occupied with his own preparations, helping Ori, and his nerves, that Famh had momentarily been absent from his mind.  But as he stepped out of the door and caught his first sight of her walking down the hall toward them, his jaw dropped and his legs stopped working.  Thanks to Cainneach's abrupt halt, Thatch bumps into him, which mercifully jostles the forester from his stupor.  Cainneach starts moving again into his place in line, slowly, trying to take in every detail of her perfectly composed dress, her gorgeous hair, her lips and rosy cheeks.  His mouth forms the words, "Nighean bhreagha!"  But as he finally meets her gaze, he's not sure what he sees ...

Insight 23

Overtaken by her beauty, Cainneach is unsure what to make of the look on the face of his beloved.  By this point, she's turned away from him, taking her place in their procession, with the Lady Ailsa between Famh and him.  His instinct is to shove past the useful Lady and take the highland girl in his arms, making sure she's okay, but Cainneach imagines that would cause more problems than it would solve.  A comforting embrace would have to wait.  Instead, he instinctively reaches down to pet Salt, making sure the hound knows things will be all right.

(He probably doesn't notice Lady Ailsa smirking ever so slightly as he gawks at Famh, smugly satisfied in her makeover of the "lowborn girl"  ;-)