(121-04-26) Lady, Come Home
Lady, Come Home
Summary: Loryn Tyrell visits Sailmaker's Manse in an attempt to bring Lady Angharad back 'home.'
Date: Date of play (02/05/2014)
Related: All things Laurent/Harry

Loryn has come to the Manse, asking to be admitted to see Lady Angharad Tyrell.

It's a drowsy summer afternoon, after midday meal and too early for dinner, so the Sailmaker's Manse, home of the Mormonts (and family) in Oldtown, is quiet. A stony-eyed guard at the door ushers the young Tyrell lord through the house and into the garden — nothing so showy as Garden Isle, in any respect, the decor and plantings all of a very spartan, Northern sensibility. Loryn's not waiting long before there's the soft, brisk tap of slippers on the stones, and Angharad herself appears. She's wearing a dark blue gown, rather plain, nothing so fetching or fancy as what she'd taken to wearing at Garden Isle. Her hair is worn in a long, loose braid over one shoulder. Her smile, though it's warm as it's ever been for Loryn, is tired. "Hello, Loryn."

Loryn doesn't look like he's dressed up for the occasion - just plan black trousers tucked into boots of the same colour and an embroidered silk shirt of expensive cut that hangs lose over the trousers. He's sitting on a stone bench, taking in the somber surroundings with an equally somber expression - that doesn't change when Harry approaches. "Angharad.", he greets her, "Thank you for seeing me."

"Angharad?" echoes the lady. Well, that is her name. She frowns slightly, nodding. "Of course, you nit." As though she wouldn't.

Loryn just sits… and sits. Whatever he had worked out to say seems to be gone now that she's actually standing in front of him. And finally all he asks is: "So how long will you be here? When are you coming back?"

Harry shakes her head, settling to sit beside him. "I'm not coming back," she says, softly.

"But…" Loryn begins, frowning at her. "You are Laurent's wife, for better or worse. You can't just leave him? You're a Tyrell now…"

She lowers her eyes, smoothing her gown over her knees. "I can," she says. "I… ladies and lords so it all the time. Some have separate bedchambers… some have separate houses. I've opted for the latter."

"But… you haven't been married for long… surely you can work it out?", Loryn asks and sighs. "Besides, Laurent is moving into his own place. So you can return to Garden Isle, where you belong, not here as a guest of the Mormonts for… what? Forever? Come back, please…?"

"Maera is my cousin. I'm with family — it's different than being a guest," says Harry, a little defensively. "And no. I don't plan to be here forever. I… haven't figured the next part out, yet. I might buy a little house of my own." She touches the back of his hand, hesitantly. "You can come visit me there. It won't be so terrible."

"And with what money are you going to buy that house?", Loryn asks, then changes tack: "Do you really want to live like a spinster in your own house, shackled to a husband for years, if not decades, and still alone? If you come back to Garden Isle, you are still separate from Laurent for the time being, but you're among your own family, the family you married into… with a change to… fix things down the line. Please?", he asks.

"I'm owed a stipend as Laurent's wife," says Harry, flatly. "It's the very least he can do." She blinks at him. "Explain to me, please, how living in my own home without a husband is different than living at Garden Isle, without a husband? Garden Isle isn't mine. Garvin will return to it in due time and I'll be living on his largesse. And fix things?" She stands, increasingly angry and fraught with pain. "Explain to me how I do that, when he hates me for reasons I can't even fathom? And why is it mine to fix things? Why is it always the woman who must toil to make things right, while the man is off tupping anything that moves? Do you think I should crawl? It was hard enough to get him to take his loose ladies and whores out from underneath the same roof — I had to threaten him, Loryn. Just for the courtesy of not being shamed under my nose."

Oops, the floodgates open and leave Loryn all at sea. "It's… uh… well, it takes two to fix things, yea, of course. And I'll talk to Laurent too. Tell him what an idiot he is… in the meantime, you're not living on anyone's largesse at Garden Isle, it's your home as much as every Tyrell's… and besides…" He colors a little and fixes his eyes to a gnarly tree nearby, before he admits: "I miss you."

She closes her eyes and breathes deep, the angry set of her shoulders melting away. "I know," says Harry. "I miss you, too. But… I have to make my own life, now. As best I can." She sits again, taking his hand. "Sweetheart, don't. Don't bother with Laurent — not with this, anyhow. So many things would have to happen that are simply… beyond your power to effect. They're certainly beyond mine. He'd have to examine his feelings. Discover why he's come to hate me. He'd have to change his mind…" she laughs at that, softly. "And he'd have to win me back, which… I don't even know is possible. But for all that to happen?" She shakes her head. "He'd have to love me, Loryn. And he doesn't."

Loryn gnaws his lip and shrugs stubbornly. "He's an ass, but he's not a bad person altogether. He's always on about us having to meet Tyrell expectations… me, earning my spurs and getting knighted, Garvin stopping his outrageous public behaviour… if he expects everyone else to behave, he needs to start at his own doorstep. And I see absolutely not why I should not tell him so. Everyone's too scared of his vile temper to contradict him, but I am not.", he declares firmly (and bravely), giving her hand a little squeeze. "Sometimes love is an instant thing, Harry, but sometimes it takes time to grow… time neither of you is willing to invest."

Harry takes back her hand, her shoulders stiffening once more. "Loryn," she says, keeping her tone neutral, "I know you mean well, but… I'm sorry. You have no idea what Laurent and I were like, when we wed. And before. And… for some time after. It's all new to you, a relationship that didn't exist, in your eyes, before you came here. But… it did exist. There's history there. And truly, you know nothing of it. Nothing of what I've invested, and invested most willingly."

"Then tell me about it?", Loryn asks, "Just don't tell me that you're giving up, resigning yourself to a cold lonely spinster life… because I'm not going to let that happen!"

"GODS, Loryn!" cries Harry, shutting her eyes and sliding her hands into her hair, holding her head as though it aches. "What do you want to know? We met and we fell in love. He adored me. I adored him. We wed in wild haste without a feast or family — eloped to the Starry Sept — because we couldn't wait to be man and wife. I know your fucking brother isn't a bad man because I know him better than nearly anyone alive — and he is a bully and a boor and a beast — he has no mercy, no compassion, no virtues save love for his family… and once, for me. And I love him with all my heart. And I always shall. Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

Loryn's brows fly upwards - obviously this IS new to him. "If you speak true… and you love him with all your heart… then you shouldn't give up so easily. I may not know much, but I know that love's worth fighting for.", he says quietly and rises to his feet. "And please…", he says softly, reaching out to touch her arm a bit awkwardly, "Come back to Garden Isle where you belong. Let me look after you until you and him sort things out." He blushes a bit, then takes a big step back. "I must go now…"

"So easily," says Harry, bitterly. She laughs a soft, painful laugh when he says love is forth fighting for. "Oh, Loryn…" she sighs. "Shut up. And yes, please, do go before I give in to the urge to hit you." She turns away. "Thank you for coming to see me."

Hit him? If only she'd offer to kiss him. Without further replies, Loryn offers her a half-hearted bow in parting, then heads out.


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