(121-04-19) Repent at Leisure
Repent at Leisure
Summary: Wed in haste, Lady Harry shares some things she repents — and not all of them are Laurent's fault.
Date: 19/04/2014
Related: None.

It's nearly noon, and there's been no sign of Harry around about the Garden Isle Manse. The servants talk, and they do love to talk, so it's not at all difficult to ascertain or overhear that the lady returned late — in the wee, small hours of morning — and tried to subtly sneak (stumble) up to bed. She's still there, as far as anyone knows.

Loryn had partied hard after his successful stage debut, though his joy was rather dampened by finally having -that- conversation with his brother Laurent later. He's slept in, as only teenagers can, and the late morning brings him out of his room wearing nothing but a knee-length white billowing shirt. He got served from hot drink and fresh bread. Inquired for the whereabouts of his family. Most seemed to be out. The Lady Angharad was still in, apparently. One servant admits to be slightly worried but not daring to disturb her. So Loryn, being a considerate goodbrother, takes it upon himself to walk up to the suite. He knocks at the door and when there is no response, he steps in. "Harry?"

There's no response, but the lady can be found abed, if one ventures in far enough. Harry, it seems, partied late last night, as well. Still in her playhouse finery, hair a mess and legs akimbo, she's well-and-truly passed out, sprawled on her belly above the covers, one hand tucked under her cheek. There are rather lovely flowers in a vase at the bedside, but no sign of Laurent. His side of the bed doesn't look slept in.

Loryn stands for a moment, just giving her a good look. Finally he takes heart and steps close to the bed, leaning down to brush his lips over her cheek with hardly an actual contact until he can whisper close to her ear: "Wake up, sleeping beauty, good tidings have arrived."

Harry stirs, blinking her eyes and squinting — ow — at the dim light of the shuttered room. She lifts her head a little, smiles a sleep-muddled smile, and slides a hand over Loryn's cheek and through his hair, fondly. "Hello," she whispers, voice husky. "Congratulations on last night, sweeting… What tidings?"

"The sun has risen once again and despite having spoken to my brother, I am still alive. I think that's good tidings enough, mhm?", Loryn smiles, blushing a little at the familiar gesture from someone he, ultimately, hardly knows. "I'm glad you enjoyed the show. I don't need to ask if you enjoyed the party.", he winks and straightens again to walk over to the window and throw the shutters open for some daylight and fresh air. "The servants were starting to worry about you."

"Oh, Gods, you little — " Harry sits up and throws a arm across her eyes to fend off the sunlight. "Actually, it was awful. There was a murdered girl. But — I still had a lovely time, so I'm sort of conflicted about that." She pushes a hand back through the tangle of her own hair. "I'm glad Lauren't didn't kill you? I didn't think he would. Even he only has so much anger, I think, and of late it's all for me."

"Fair's fair, you did the same for me yesterday.", Loryn reminds her with a smirk, "Except that I didn't bring you tea. I wouldn't know what tea. But lunch will be ready soon. I think some hot soup will do wonders for you…" He walks back from the now open window, past her dressing table, where he picks up a comb and returns to the bed and her side. "Let me do your hair.", he suggests softly, "And tell me what the problem is? And don't say 'Laurent', we'll file that one under unsolvable problems."

"I don't know that Laurent is the problem," says Angharad softly, sounding — for a moment — on the verge of tears. None fall, but her voice quavers. She clears her throat and takes a breath, giving Loryn her back so he can do as he will with her hair. "I'm so foolish. Your brother has — so many good qualities. Truly he does. And maybe — maybe they're all the more dear because the glitter in the shadow of his bad ones. And I was so in love with the good. I thought — to call it a thought is too…" she makes a helpless gesture. "I don't know my brain ever entered into it. I just — I wanted him. So much. And I thought… the rest would surely work itself out."

Loryn may be more used to grooming horses than ladies, but he does sit behind Harry with the comb in hand and begins untangling her long hair, first using his fingers, then the comb, using calm measured strokes while he listens. "So what exactly IS the problem?", he finally asks, "You realized that marriage isn't all sunshine and daisies? Or that you couldn't get Laurent to get a grip on his vile temper?"

"I didn't expect sunshine and daisies," says Angharad. Then, more honestly. "Maybe a few. Maybe sometimes. But… far more the latter. And it's not just his temper. It's… a disdain, a complete lack of feeling, for anyone and anything not Tyrell. He's — not just rude. He lacks respect. Insight. Humility. Any grace. All graces. He's… a bully. And a brute." She puts her hands over his face. "I'm sorry. He's your brother. I shouldn't speak so of him to you, but — please know that I love him? Despite all that — and sometimes because of it — I love him. I only thought…" She swallows. "I thought love might make him a better man. I thought… he might love me."

"He is not easy to love.", Loryn admits with a slight smile, "I have always admired him and looked up to him… but love him? I find that very hard. I respect what he told me last night, but I would have wished, too, that he'd at least try to understand me. But still…" He pauses a little to focus on untangling a knot in her hair without pulling on it too much and to recollect his thoughts. "You haven't been married long, though, give it time to learn to love you…. if he doesn't realize how easy you are to love and how lucky he is to have you, he's a bigger idiot that I thought."

"He's too proud," Harry replies, rather without hope. "He's not sorry. He won't examine the way he behaves. He just — anyone who doesn't accept him, unreservedly, at all times, is the enemy." She takes a slow breath. "That enemy is me, now. All the more, I think, because — because I think, for a little while, he believed in us. But I can't — I can't just smile and pretend everything is all right when he's wrong. And he can't be wrong — so to him, it's like I'm breaking a promise, abandoning him — I'm not! I love him, and I miss him already. I…" She bends forward, hugging her arms to herself, until her forehead touches the bed. "Oh, Loryn… I just… I hurt…"

Loryn looks a bit lost now, all of this going way over his young head. Resting the hand that holds the comb, he reaches out with his free hand to place his hand on her shoulder. "Aw, come on, Harry…", he says helplessly, "It's not that bad, surely? Give him time… soon there'll be a babe too… many a great raging bear has already been transformed once he held his infant in his arms… You haven't been married that long, you can't expect Laurent to change this quickly."

"There's no babe," whispers Harry, after a long and wretched silence. "I'm not — I never was — with child."

"Oh, I see.", Loryn gulps, "And… does Laurent know this? Or why was Garvin going on about it in the first place? I assume you and Laurent have…" He makes a vague (non-lewd) gesture to indicate what he means.

Harry gasps out a bleak laugh, sitting back up and wiping her eyes. There are tears in earnest now, though they're silent. "Gods. Of course we have. It's certainly not for lack of trying." She looks down at her hands. "I lied. Your brother was going to run off and challenge Maelys Targaryen — that monster of a man, you didn't see… it took both Laurent and Ser Abram everything they had to take him down together…" She looks up at the ceiling, swallowing tears. "He was going to die. Surely as you and I sit here, he was going to die trying to avenge your father. And he wouldn't… he didn't love me enough to live… I thought — I thought he might a son." She doesn't look at him. Perhaps she can't. "I didn't seem like such a terrible lie, at the time. I mean… surely, eventually we'd…" She shake sher head. "But no."

"Ah, he didn't tell me that part.", Loryn admits with a little smirk, then shrugs. "But Harry, you know him well enough by now that when he is possessed by one of his hot white rages, he doesn't -think- about anything. Not about you, but also not about Mother who needs him more than ever now… But I am sure he loves you very much. And sometimes it takes a while.", he adds, trying to cheer her up, "Just… keep trying? At least it's something that's always fun doing?"

"I don't think I can," admits Harry, swallowing a lump in her throat. "I don't think I can bear… for him to touch me. Not now. The other night, when this all fell apart, he went straight out the door and back to his whores. I'm sure of it." She glances at Laurent's side of the bed. "You didn't — couldn't — see or hear us in the gallery, at the play. He was so disgusted by me, he spat. Spat — IN our box — as though the very idea of me tasted like turned meat." She takes another breath and smooths her hair. "I will tell him. I promise. I won't make this burden yours. I'd just… been waiting for a good time. I was hoping it would happen soon, and it would be a moot point, but now… I have to tell him."

Loryn sighs deeply, reaching out again to somewhat helplessly and clumsily stroke her shoulder and arm, an awkward puppy sensing that master is sad and tries to offer comfort. "I may be young, Harry, but I know that it does happen… that women think they carry a child and then it goes wrong. So don't beat yourself up about it, mhmm? You did what you thought was best. And I'm sure you'll work it out." He smiles a little. "Laurent shouted at me last night that Tyrells aren't quitters. He should take a leaf from his own book then and make his marriage work. You deserve it."

Harry turns and presses her cheek to his, her face hot and wet with tears. Her kiss is probably meant for his cheek, but falls somewhere in that awkward no-man's land between cheek and mouth. "It's you who deserve — better. Than either one of us." She sniffles and kisses his forehead fiercely, then climbs out of bed. "I'm going to have a bath… and some wine, I think. Hair of the dog, isn't that what they say…?"

The kiss is enough to make Loryn blush - as if he isn't warm enough under that shirt already. "It's alright.", he assures her, "You're family…" And then she kisses him again. Boy's gonna spontaneously combust soon. He looks somewhat relieved when she announces her intent to take a bath. "You do that, Harry… I'll see you downstairs for lunch later." He inhales deeply, thanking the Seven for the BILLOWING shirt that covers him very conveniently right now and waits a little while until it is safe to get up and head out of the room.


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