(120-12-24) Flagons and Dragons
Flagons and Dragons
Summary: Maester Thane meets with Lady Maera and Eonn about a green dream. Isador's involvement with the Lady Mormont comes to light.
Date: 120-12-24
Related:
Players:
Eonn..Maera..Thane..Isador..

Quill and Tankard, Hightower And Citadel

The common room of the Quill and Tankard. Rivermen and seamen, smiths and singers, priests and princes, and the novices and acolytes of the Citadel - all come for a taste of the fearsomely strong apple cider that makes this inn so beloved by Oldtown's people There is a pleasant buzz of chatter, cups and tankards being filled and refilled, and general laughter.

A roaring fire in the hearth allows for a merry glow and a comfortable warmth from Oldtown's breezy, misty cobblestone streets. Benches and tables offer places to sit, and there is a deliciously toothsome smell in the air of food from the back.

Maera is alone, drinking from a Tankard of cider. Nothing of interest to note save for her blackened eye and a cut on her cheek below the scar she already has.

Thane bursts into the Quill and Tankard, his staff thunking heavily on the floorboards as he calls out to the nearest wench. "Wine. Just…bring a bloody flagon of it. Quickly, girl." His raven swoops in the door after him, flapping up to its usual perch on his shoulder. Spotting Maera, he makes directly for her table, inviting himself to sit down. He looks up at her with a haunted grimace, which quickly fades away at the sight of her. "M'lady…what happened to you?"

Maera offers the Maester a wry little quirk of her lips. She lifts the tankard to her lips and drinks heavily before sitting it down. "Got into a fight." By the bravado of her words and the flush of her cheeks, she may be a little drunk, "Don't worry. I won."

Eonn slips in. He's got a kitten tucked into his surcoat, its head and forelegs sticking out over the neckline. It is trying to bite the man's beard, and he is ignoring it utterly. Maera's appearance has captured his attention and he comes to her in a few long strides.

Thane's lips quirk into an amused smirk, and he nods. "Aye, I should not doubt it. You're a true Northwoman, m'lady." He sighs, slumping into his seat as the grimness returns to his eyes. Just then, a tall flagon of wine is set before him. The wench gets a slight nod as he takes it up, quaffing heavily.

Maera's head turns to offer Eonn a little grin which must be brought on by the booze because she is normally rather stoic. She tells him, "Remember that bastard that tried stealing my horse? I ran into him." By the looks of her face she did more than just run into the horse thief. She looks back to Thane, "You're dour." She observes bluntly, "Bad news?"

Eonn raises his eyebrows at Maera, blinks, and then smiles back. "Ah." He seems satisfied that all is well, and looks about. The kitten meeps.

Thane sets the flagon down heavily, grunting with a nod. "Bad dream," he clarifies. "Or…a disconcerting dream. I can't know yet if it's bad." He runs his hand down his face, calloused fingers audible against his coarse beard. "You were in it. Both of you." He nods to Maera and Eonn in turn.

Maera's face grows serious. "What happened?"

Eonn looks at Isador for a moment, before Thane tells him he was in a dream. He just raises his eyebrows at the Maester and extracts the kitten from his boiled leathers and sets it on the table in front of the other man.

The raven peers down at the kitten, puffing up its feathers defensively. Thane pays the bird no mind as he leans in toward the Bear woman. "It may not be best to speak openly of it here. But…tell me again, Lady Mormont…how old was your brother when it happened?"

The kitten notices the raven and hops back towards Eonn, frightened and hissing, arching its back and trying to look bigger. Not that this makes it look big.

"Seventeen." Maera tells Thane in a quiet, somber voice.

Eonn picks up the little cat again. He gestures for a tankard of cider.

Thane furrows his brow, shaking his head. "That's not right, then. M'lady, what is the relationship between House Mormont and House Glover?"

"I had two brothers." Maera tells Thane, "…And what do you know of House Glover?"

Eonn sits down when his cider comes, setting the kitten on his lap. It stands up on its hind legs to try to peer over the table-top at the raven.

"I know that they rule the Wolfswood, and their banner bears a silver gauntlet on scarlet. I saw it in my dream." Thane takes another deep drink of his wine, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his gray robe.

Isador enters the room and eyes turn to her - sitting down almost uninvited she asks Maera, "Wasn't it more Sixteenish?" without knowing what she is asking or the conversation itself. She seems slightly dislocated. But rather happy. Coming unto herself she asks, "Where am I?" Then corrects, "Sorry my Lady - err Maester."

Maera's head turns to stare blankly at Isador for a moment before she makes introductions, "Maester Thane, this is Mistress Isador. She has some…ah, unique gifts." Maera rubs a hand across her face. She seems to be drawing a blank. Perhaps being hit so hard in the face is affecting her in some way. "We should retire to my Manse. We could have dinner and discuss this."

Eonn glances at Isador, asks her quietly, "Have you got a figure for me?" and then starts to quaff his cider. The kitten tries a hesitant growl at the raven. Maybe the bird will be afraid.

Thane gives Isador a steely stare, nodding with cool politeness. "Aye, I remember seeing you in here before." His eyes shift to the front of her neck, peering curiously.

Isador shakes her head, "Sorry my Lady - Maester - Master swordsman - I err… Have been able to scratch a few itches more effectively than I would have even remotely hoped recently." Coughing, "It has a strange effect on me such as I am. I have heard rumors that I would like to discuss however…" Belatedly she nods at Thane, "An honor Maester…"

Eonn gives Isador a skeptical look, then nods. He continues to rapidly down the cider, finishing it now.

Maera finishes off the cider in her tankard, and puts enough coin down to pay for the table's drinks. She gives Isador an intrigued look, her blakened eye closing more slowly than it ought as she stares at the other woman.

"One such as you," Thane echoes to Isador, his fingers tighten around his weirwood staff as he downs another gulp of wine. "What would that be?"

Isador looks to the Maester, "Being coy Maester? Why don't you answer the question - I am willing to bet you have formed your own opinions…"

Eonn sighs a bit, and looks to Maera. "I should find you something cold," he says, looking at her face.

"I'm fine." Maera says softly to Eonn, and offers him a faint smile to reassure him of her fineness. She interupts the witch and the maester, "Shall we go somewhere more private, then?"

"Don't be foolish, girl," Thane says sharply. "I am a maester. I would not ask if I didn't wish to know." He rises in response to Maera's request, leaning heavily on his staff. He takes up the flagon, finishing what he can of the wine before he must go. He'd hate to waste Lady Mormont's money, after all.

Isador who is slightly out of things notices Maera's injury for the first time, "My Lady!?! I will follow -if welcome- but let me take care of that?" To the Maester, "You are more cryptic thatn I am and my profession depends on being vague Maester. But I would speak some more at you."

"It's fine." Maera insists, but in a more guarded manner with Isador. She stands up from her chair, "Come along, then."

Eonn stands, picking up the kitten and tucking it under his surcoat again. It tries to threaten the raven from this safe position.

Thane's hard gaze only hardens more at Isador's response. "And I would have you answer the question, girl." His raven leans toward the kitten as it is bobbed around on Thane's shoulder, and gives an experimental squawk. "Raven, hush."

Sailmaker's Manse - Appletree Wynd, Upper Hightower Street

This modest stone manse is well appointed, with three levels, each about thirty feet square.

The lowest includes a main hall with a massive stone fireplace, and an exit into the stable. There are no windows facing the wynd, but an arched door and wide windows give a view of a walled garden in the back. The back garden wall is the wall of a house the next alley over, and its windows and those of the surrounding residences might offer a view of the garden, but no access.

The floors above house several chambers of varying sizes, a few with fireplaces joining the single big chimney.

The Bear Lady leads the Witch, the Maester, and the Sellsword to the Manse that originally belonged to a Sailmaker. She'll motion for her guests to sit at a big table while a young servant girl fetches wine for them. The manse smells like roasted meats; a delectable or repulsing smell depending on each individual's state. She sits down at the head of the table, and takes a swallow of her wine once they've assembled around it.

Eonn follows, of course. Once inside, he sits at the table, and takes the kitten out of his surcoat to release it.

Thane props his staff against the table as he sits. Meanwhile, the raven finds a perch on the back of his chair, preening ostentatiously. Half of his wine has quickly vanished.

Isador still seems kind of halfway out of things but she ignores most everyone when she says, "You had something to tell us my lady?"

"No. I wanted to be able to speak more freely than inside the tavern." Maera takes another swallow of her wine before saying to Thane, "The Glover's are our closest neighbors. Their second son, Cressen Glover, was friends with my older brother Randyll. He was killed during a raid a year before my father died."

Eonn looks at Thane, "That bad," he says, "And I was in it?" He smiles, though.

"Before we go on, m'lady," Thane says, lifting a hand. "Something remains unanswered." He looks to Isador. "I do not know this girl, and she evades my questions. I will not speak freely of these things to a stranger. Now, girl, answer my question. What are you?" There is a stern emphasis on the word "what".

"It's not obvious Maester - I am a wildling born - sold into slavery - to a Blood maegi - who adopted her as a daughter - witch. Schooled in as many languages as you care to master but other things that you care not to." Isador tells the truth. "On the down side I am a little bit over sexed. My master in Essos Gascoign - had a few other flaws to add to that list." Isador is a bit too high and honest for her good at the moment. "I bet you can't add over sexed to your flaws maester."

To Maera she adds disjunctively, "You did not respond to my request to help you with your eye my lady?"

"I'm fine." Maera says with no small measure of annoyance. The young servant girl walks out of the kitchen carrying bread and cheese along with salt. When she sits both down Maera will order the girl have her mother serve supper for guests, and bring her a wet cold cloth. "I do not think it is an appropriate topic for a maester, Mistress Isador."

"This woman is seldom appropriate," says Eonn. "And," he adds, to Isador, "You didn't answer my question."

"I'm not bothered, m'lady," Thane insists. "Not by her lewdness. Lady Mormont. I'm bothered by what she is. I'm not your house maester, m'lady, so I cannot formally advise you. But because I respect you, I offer you the opinion of a maester who wears a Valyrian steel link in his chain, and pray that you regard my words with the weight of the knowledge behind them. Cast her out. Do not invite a maegi into your house. Do not give her hospitality. Where blood magic goes, sorrow follows. She will tell you that can she perform wonders for you, but the price will be higher than you can imagine. I implore you, m'lady, do not open your door to such accursed things."

Isador slides over to the Maester and looks the old man dead in the eye but she is not confrontational, "You Maesters and your monopoly on what is right and what is not. Tell me once then? At what stage could I ever in your rational world prove you are not my enemy? The most basic of things." Turning to Maera, "As for our lady of Bear Island - I never said to her that I was some divine arbiter of the truth - I even wrestled with demons in front of her - have I said otherwise my Lady?" Isador did not lace and sugar her dark side. "I can offer only so much truth. You did not like the answer that your brother was murdered for love - worse yet for the love of another - not your brother. They always answer in riddles designed to incite you to darker action. And I told you the truth of my encounter with them." Isador turns, "Dusky old academic I am not rnning away - come now - what is truly evil about what "I offer?"

"The truth is I have already sought the witches' council." Maera admits softly as she takes the wet cloth from the servant girl and presses it to her eye. "And what she has told me has truth to it. But." She looks to Thane, "Your words are wise, maester. But I would be a liar to say I had not already taken what she has offered, and a hypocrite to use what she offers and then cast her out as if I were innocent in this." She glances to Eonn, "You are my advisor. What say you in regards to the witch?"

Eonn shrugs. "I do not think advice is what you need," he says, reaching to cut a slice off one of the cheeses. "I think you saw how it goes with this witch and her magic. You can decide what to do about it. I think you know that the Maester is correct in what he says, though not exactly complete." He shrugs. The kitten hops about at his feet.

Thane does not offer his eye to be stared into. He does not so much as look at Isador, but clutches his staff rigidly as she speaks. His eyes remain fixed on Maera, his conviction firm. "You know my tale, Lady Mormont. You know I'm no 'dusty old academic'. I tell you there is no dishonor in protecting your household by casting her out now. It matters not if she has spoken truth. That is the way of her kind. They will offer you something small to gain your trust, then comes the betrayal, in forms that would shred the courage of the bravest of warriors."

Isador stands back and folds her arms looking at all of them, "Is is me that is really being discuss or some caricature my Lady, my Maester, Swordmaster… Are you willing even to listen to my account of things or am I to be a thing to be examined rather than an actual person with an art?" Isador has the disadvantage of intelligence or so she has put it.

"Eat," Eonn suggests to Isador, slicing off a chunk of bread and putting the cheese atop it, with a sprinkle of the salt. He offers it to her.

Maera nods her head once to Eonn, and when he offers Isador the bread and cheese she says, "My business with Mistress Isador is completed. I have no want or desire to use her crafts again. Those things are unclean. But, I would have her recount what she had seen to you, maester, so you can understand what was done."

Thane sighs, finishing the wine in his cup in a single gulp. "So be it, but I shall not speak my part for her ears. The knowledge I possess is not for those who practice dark arts.

"And then under what form of honest accounting shall I begin Maester?" says the witch. "This should at least merit some latitude from yourself and your order from my honest accounting?" As for Maera, "Actually our business may only be half done…"

Eonn grimaces a bit. "Eat," he tells Isador again.

Maera shakes her head softly. "It's done." She says to Isador. "And I will pay you for it. But, it is done."

"Just speak, girl," Thane grumbles, "And eat the bread, lest you give us cause to think you do not wish to be bound by the laws hospitality." He levels a warning glare at Isador.

"I get antsy when cornered and people insist I eat food - but rest assured I will not take kindly to a poisoning of the salt and bread," Isador says suspiciously - eating with one hand and sniffing all the while. "Alright…" she asks, "Is this a trick or do I get to speak my peace?"

Eonn shakes his head, "That would be a worse crime, to poison it," he says. He makes another little open sandwich of bread and a sprinkle of salt, and a slice of cheese. This he offers to Thane.

"It is the laws of hospitality." Maera says simply as she leans forward to tear off a hunk of the bread from the loaf and smash it into the bowl of salt. She flicks off the excess before putting it in her mouth and chewing. "We have broke bread. You are my guest, and the maester is our guest. If we harm each other while I serve as host and you as guest the Old Gods shall strike you down. Now, speak your peace."

Thane sits with his hands folded on the table before him, staring at his empty cup as if it were to blame for his foul mood. At the offer of bread, he takes it with a nod and immediately takes a large bite, offering a nibble to the raven perched behind him.

Eonn takes a slice of the bread, a little salt, a piece of cheese for himself and says, "Now then. Speak. In safety and peace."

"But am 'I" your friend lady?" Isador the beautiful red haired witch asks openly.

Maera frowns. "Your friend? Are we maids now? Shall we braid flowers into each other's hair and gossip?" With a faint smile, she picks up her goblet and takes a swallow. "I was under the impression that we were conducting business." She glances to Eonn, "Go upstairs and get my jewelry chest?"

Eonn nods to Maera. He gets to his feet and moves to climb the stairs, still eating bread and salt and cheese as he goes.

Thane gestures lazily toward Isador. "You see the forked-tongue evasiveness for yourself, m'lady. She wishes to lure you in further by denying you what you ask for, hoping to enhance her mystique. Charlatan tricks, but it is the way of such people."

Maera nods her head once to Thane. "Aye. I had suspected it, but now I see for certain." She looks to the stairs expectantly.

Thane simply nods to Maera, and waits patiently. He has lodged his concerns, and for the moment, silence seems the better option to further discussion.

Maera is no longer willing to wait for the Sellsword, it seems. She stands up from her chair, and heads towards the stairs. Several moments later she returns with a pouch which she sits down in front of Isador. "You are paid now. Our business is complete. Now ho."

Eonn comes back down the stairs with the chest. Just in time.

Maera stands up from her seat as Eonn comes downstairs, and takes the chest from him. She'll open it with a key on her girdle, and stand over it a moment before she takes a slim bar of silver from within, the sort used for smithing. She walks over to the table to sit it down in front of Isador. "You are paid. We are done. Now go."

"I was supposed to be paid an expensive bracelet that belonged to your mother. But because the claiming of that and it's value was greater than I would have asked for any service I Have a real price to ask. That will not be represented by the contents of the chest -nor the imprecations of your maester." Isador rises - but does not leave immediately.

Eonn raises his eyebrows at Isador. He does not seem pleased. He stares at her, as if waiting.

Thane simply begins to laugh. It is a disbelieving and slightly drunken chuckle that extends well past when it really should. He covers his mouth, lifting a hand of apology to Maera, managing to mutter, "I am sorry, m'lady."

"You declined it, and I shall not offer it again. If you had wanted something specific you ought have named it. Now the time for naming such wants is over." Maera shrugs simply. "You may decline the silver, but that is on you, not me."

Isador moves frenetically as though having remembered she might otherwise not have, "I need not coin my lady - but I have my own foes. And Maester - we will speak later…" And then she is down the stairs

Maera lets out a weary sigh, and takes a healthy swallow of her wine.

Eonn sets the chest on the table and sits down again to serve himself more bread and cheese.

Thane watches the red-haired woman go, casting a skeptical gaze after her. "Not bloody likely," he murmurs, turning back to Maera and Eonn with a heavy sigh. "I apologize if I caused unrest, m'lady. I hope you understand that I have only your best interests at heart. Whether she speaks true or not, I firmly believe it isn't worth the risks."

"I feel a fool now for having trusted her even a little bit." Maera admits in an annoyed tone, "I was just so hopeful to find what I was looking for…"

"Did she lead you wrongly?" asks Eonn, between bites of bread and cheese.

"I'm sure she talked a fair game," Thane muses.

"Only about the price of it." Maera has another swallow of the wine. "And she offered me more of her magic, but I turned it down. Tried convincing me that she could make me beautiful or young or some sort."

"Really?" asks Eonn, furrowing his brows. The kitten under the table starts climbing his leg.

Thane scowls, pointing a finger in the direction Isador left. "You see? That is exactly what I warned of. It begins with something small. Something simple. Then come the offers of something truly extraordinary. Something you thought impossible, that they think you'll be unable to resist." He snaps his lips shut before he really gets going on another drunken rant.

Maera nods her head once. "Really. Luckily I am not overly vain. I told her I looked forward to having wrinkles, and she changed her tune. Said she wasn't capable of making me younger, yet." She sips wine, "It must be a line that works with many women."

Eonn frowns, looking angry now. He nods.

"Aye, no doubt," Thane growls. "Not that you need any such nonsense. You're ten times the woman any of these southern waifs are — strong and beautiful." The maester nods with firm conviction, though perhaps the excess of wine has contributed to the looseness of his tongue.

Maera presses the cloth to her swollen eye. She asks in a tired, weary voice, "Tell me of your vision, Maester?"

Eonn casts a glance at Thane. It's an approving look.

Thane grunts, clearing his throat. "Aye, the Green Dream. It was rather involved. I was here, in this very room, in fact. You and I were speaking, Eonn standing behind you." He rises from his seat, bumping the chair and giving his raven a start. He gestures, open-handed, to the table. "Upon the table was a child. Dead. I would he was eleven or twelve years old, at the most. He had on a tattered surcoat bearing the sigil of House Glover. But you seemed to be unaware of him. I suspect that is significant." He pauses for emphasis.

Maera's uninjured eye widens slightly. "Would you call the boy a squire?"

Eonn listens, quiet. He eats more bread and cheese, and refills Thane's wine-glass.

"Possibly," Thane says to Maera, "Or a son of the house, or both." He points to Eonn, "This is where you play a part. Ah, thank you." He lifts his glass for another swig of wine. "Once, when I looked back at Eonn, he was…you were no longer you. No longer Eonn, but another boy, not much older than the dead boy. Scrawny, light olive skin, curly black hair. But you still wore the same clothing, man-sized. Then, when next I looked upon you, you were a man again…only with the head of a black lion."

Eonn tilts his head to one side, looking at Thane with somber curiousity. "It seems unlikely that either of those things should come to pass. Did you know this boy?" He refills his own glass.

"I recognized neither boy," Thane says, shaking his head. "Forgive my intrusive questioning, Eonn, but have you ever sired a son? Might you have a bastard from some encounter a dozen or so years ago?"

"If I have one," says the sellsword, "I do not know it. But it's not impossible."

Maera sips her wine with no comment.

"The lion is my deeper concern for the moment," Thane explains. "It reminded me of the Lion of Night, a god worshiped in Yi Ti. But…more notable is that this god is regarded as one of the faces of the God of Death revered by the Faceless Men. Perhaps a coincidence. But if our earlier conjecture about the nature of your brother's killer was true, this could be another sign." He regards Eonn for a moment. "That it appeared in place of your head is most disconcerting."

Eonn raises his eyebrows. "Is everything in these dreams significant?" he asks, holding his bread and cheese for the moment.

"We've spoken of the Faceless Men before, have we not maester?" The words are spoken to Thane, but her eyes on on Eonn. She stares at him as if seeing him for the first time. "The Pale Moon Goddess, she is death? Do these Faceless men revere her as well as the Stranger?"

Thane nods. "Anything that stands out to me usually has meaning. Not that I can claim that I can always interpret the meaning. These visions are usually symbolic. Very rarely are they literal." He nods to Maera, "The Moon-Pale Maiden? She is also one of the faces of Death, yes. As is the Stranger, the Lion of Night, the Weeping Woman, the Merling King, and many more. All are represented in the House of Black and White, which is where the Faceless Men are reputed to be quartered."

Eonn returns Maera's look. His expression is blank, almost puzzled.

Maera returns Eonn's blank look, and she smiles slowly. "They must be masters of disguise, these Faceless Men? Do they use the same tools as Mummers to change their appearance?"

"No, m'lady," says Thane grimly. "Well, they might. But you must understand why it is that I know what I do about them. I study the ways of magic. Their power to disguise themselves is beyond normal methods. But, the dream did not end there. I had thought it did, my first awakening was simply another part of the dream. So it may be that the rest of this is not relevant to you, but I cannot be sure." He takes a breath, leaning on his staff as he continues. "When I 'awoke', I saw him," he gestures to his raven, "He landed on my sill and said, 'Fire'. Just then, an enormous shadow passed overhead. I went to the window, finding myself in a tower. On the streets below, there was a third boy, this one of white-blonde hair, running with a candle of dragonglass in his hands. He was chasing the shadow — a massive, winged shape… a dragon. Somehow, he overtakes the shadow, and then it is following him. Only then did I properly awaken."

Eonn stares at Maera's face for a while as Thane speaks. Then he goes back to eating bread and cheese.

Maera tears her gaze from Eonn to tell Thane, "The witch told me that the woman who ordered the death of my brother possesses an obsidian candle. Later, a shade told me her name was Erena. Lady Glover is called Erena. So is one of the Glover daughter's."

Thane strokes his chin, his scruffy ginger beard crackling. "It seems unlikely to me that the Glovers would possess a glass candle. These are not common artifacts. But I suppose it isn't impossible. Do you think the witch's words can be trusted?"

Eonn stays quiet. He eats. It seems he's hungry; he's packing it away.

"Well, they weren't exactly her words. Rather, they were the words of the shadows she summoned forward and allowed to speak through her. Hundreds of voices all at once." Maera frowns, "Later, she summoned forth one shade, and I was able to make him tell me what I wanted without paying the price they demanded."

Thane grumbles wordlessly about the blood magic. "Tread carefully, m'lady. Such otherworldly beings do not take kindly to being cheated. In any case, I would take the information with a grain of salt. Remember it, but do not assume it is true until we have proof."

"They demanded the blood of an innocent, and I told them I would not give it to them." Maera speaks the words softly. Somberly. "They said I would kill an innocent accidentally."

Thane's eyes close slowly, silently cursing the sobering words. "I warned you. By the blighted snows, I warned you. This isn't over. I will consult my books at the Citadel. There may be some way to protect you from the shades' influence. But believe me, they will try to extract their price."

"Could I end it if I killed the witch?" Maera asks softly.

"Maybe," Thane says darkly. "But it may be beyond her influence now. She is merely the link. She is the liaison to these evil spirits. What's done is very likely done."

Eonn nods very slightly, and is silent.

Maera says nothing. Instead, she drinks heavily from her cup.

Thane runs his hand down his face, frowning. "I should return to the Citadel. I'll try to find a way to shield you, and see what more I can learn about the Lion of Night. Meanwhile, I suggest you look more deeply into House Glover."

"Why did you ask if I have a bastard?" asks Eonn, pausing in his repast to question.

"Thank you, maester." Maera rises from her chair to show the man out.

Thane pauses to look to Eonn before leaving. "The boy that you became in my dream. He had a somewhat foreign look about him. The fact that you turned into him, and he wore your clothing, suggested to me that there is a connection between you and he."

Eonn nods at that, slowly, then shrugs. "I see."

Maera looks to Eonn briefly before she continues to walk towards the door with Thane, "Where is this House of Black and White, maester?"

"The Free City of Braavos," Thane replies as he walks with Maera. "A bit of a jaunt, I'm afraid."

Maera smiles tightly. "Just so." The door to the Manse is opened, "Good night, Maester."

Thane stops and bows. "Good night, Lady Mormont." Drawing his hood up over his head, he steps out into the dark.

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