(123-07-06) Preparedness
Summary: Loryn attempts to unload approximately a hundred errands worth of wedding stress onto Viola. Give or take.
Date: 06/07/2016
Related: None

Grand Hall - Garden Isle Manse - Sphinx Street

The first floor's main hall is grand, open room dominated by a massive fireplace and high-arched windows facing the street, protected by heavy iron bars. The white walls and polished white marble floors make it seem airy and bright. The starkness of the walls is softened by three long tapestries, depicting fantastical hunting scenes, while the marble floor is cushioned by rich Myrish rugs.

Down the center of the hall is a long, wide dining table, able to seat thirty comfortably. At the head of the table is an enormous chair of elaborately carved rosewood, with a door behind flanked by two high windows, giving a view of the sunlight gardens. Near the fireplace are smaller chairs, cushioned benches, and small tables for more intimate conversations.

Alcoves and doors at either side of the great hall lead to servants quarters, kitchens, and smaller sitting rooms. At the northwest and southeast corners of the building are square towers holding the stairs up to the floor above, where the bedchambers and other sitting rooms are found.

As the wedding day approaches, the first visitors begin trickling into Oldtown. The first Tyrells have already arrived at Garden Isle and there is a lot of to and fro, getting rooms ready and catering to everyone's whims. Loryn has mostly tried to flee the drama, but now he stands in the great hall, trying to flag down one of the more important staff.

Viola would be pleased to be thought of as one of the more important staff, if indeed she is, and mortified to not notice Ser Loryn straight away — which is the case as she disperses a quiet order to a more youthful servant with his hands full of used-up trays left in an adjacent room by one of the recently arrived Tyrell guests. He scurries off quickly, for servants such as himself and empty plates are equals, in that they are not meant to be glimpsed for too long by noble eyes.

The elder servant turns with an immediate look of absolute determination on her lined face, already having her next housekeeping move scheduled out in her head like a well-laid battle plan but, naturally, she allows said plan to be interrupted and bows her head acquiescently the second she notices she's being flagged down. "'N' what can I do for you, m'lord?"

"I've had a raven.", Loryn explains and as he continues it becomes clear that he is not referring to his lunch, "The Tyrells from Highgarden are about to arrive before nightfall. Lord Lorant, Lady Hyacinth, my dearest mother…. and a whole bunch more." He actually looks nervous, "Make sure that the suites are readied for them in time and get some extra refreshments in because they will certainly be tired. Make sure that there is mango juice. Lady Hyacinth is very fond of it. And bring the best wine up for Lord Lorant."

"Mango juice," Viola repeats in the fashion of someone who doesn't know what in the Seven Hells a mango is or why someone would want to drink its juice. She nevertheless nods her head firmly with the same absolute determination she started out with. Every detail is stored away in the vault of her memory, no doubt about it; the woman's eyes are intelligent ones, for all she doesn't know her exotic fruit. "Of course, m'lord. We'll see to it that everything is in perfect order." A pause; her jaw goes slightly hard. "If you wouldn't mind," she ventures, polite but with confidence, "I should like to go into town to fill the orders meself and make right certain they're to the letter. I'll make just as certain everything here is runnin' smooth before I step out."

"Of course, yes, whatever you think is best.", Loryn replies, looking slightly antsy, "You do know Mrs Audra's bakehouse, don't you? She supplies the Whimsy with snacks for punters before the show and during breaks and she is also supplying food for the wedding. Ask if she was able to find that… that… uh, I don't remember. Some fish she wanted to bake into pies. If not, does she have alternatives? Oh and bring some pies for dinner as well. My mother is very fond of her mushroom pies. Says they make her feel mellow and by the Seven, that's exactly what we need in this madhouse here.", he sighs. He makes a move as if to head off, but stops again. "Oh, and did you ready the room for Lady Olenna? Did you make sure she can find everything without her eyes?"

Although Viola's features tend stern when she's focused, as she is now upon the rapidly piling tasks set before her, the prominent smile lines around her mouth begin to soften as she regards the antsy Tyrell. She nods here and there: yes, she knows the bakehouse; yes, she'll check on Audra and her fish and the mushroom pies, too, of course. "Lady Olenna's room is arranged, but I could check in with her or her handmaiden to see it's to her liking," she suggests. She smiles slightly at Loryn, her not-quite-blue gaze gentling as well in a nearly motherly fashion (without, as it happens, resembling the Lady Josanne whatsoever). "If I may ask, m'lord, is there anything me or the staff can do to make this busy time a wee bit easier? Besides the errands, that is. Easier on you." A touch of humour rises, careful not to overstep too far. "You needn't make yourself sick with stress before the wedding."

"Yes, make sure, Lady Olenna is catered for and even during such a trying time as this I want to be sure Tyrell hospitality is not find wanting.", he says quickly. The nearly motherly smile makes him calm a little bit for about two seconds, before she asks if she can do something for him. "You could shoot me. Or lock me in the wine cellar until it is all over.", he suggests wryly and smirks, but shakes it off to produce something resembling a proper smile. "I'm sorry, Viola, I'm… well, yes, I -am- stressed out. This wedding is huge. I should have listened to my first impulse and run off to the Summer Isles with Miranda. Oh, speaking of which, do you know if the delivery of those … I think they are some sort of nut? Anyway, we expect a cargo from the Summer Isles, can you find out if any ships from there have arrived or are due in the next days? Apparently these nuts are sliced in half and filled with drink and…" He makes a vague gesture to imply that mayhem will ensue.

Viola does not hide her grin at Loryn's dry humour, although she does not go so far as to laugh outright at the noble knight's problems. "To … be honest, m'lord, it is the head o' staff that deals with shipments, and the kitchen with the food, but you needn't worry a bit about any of the preparations. I'll take it on to be sure every servin' soul knows what they're doin' and where they're goin'." That glimmer of humour resurfaces as she nods her head, the utilitarian tight bun of brown hair not moving an inch. "Before you decide to run off to the Summer Isles for all the nuts you can… drink."

"I know, I'm sorry, I don't mean to trouble you.", Loryn says quickly, looking apologetic, "It's hard to get hold of anyone at the moment. Everyone is busy with this and that and there are all sorts of appointments for something or other. Oh!", he remembers, "Can you send a message to the seamstress Nalandra, she lives on Orchard Road, to please come in tomorrow to discuss some things with my mother? Not too early, as I think my mother will wish to recover from the journey and sleep in but she was most intent on seeing a seamstress, she even put it in the message. Poor raven." His train of thought begins to derail and he looks confused. "Where was I? Oh… Nuts. Yes. I have no idea how to drink nuts. Garvin suggested it. He always comes up with these truly outrageous ideas. Oh and while you inquire about the shipments, can you check what the situation of the ice delivery is?" He runs a hand through his hair that only serves to make it stand more on end than before and half-twirls. "I should be going…"

If, despite her vault of a memory, Viola wishes she was writing all of this down, she makes no show of it. She simply nods her head yet again, and again, certain as can be. While Loryn seems to spiral into confusion as much as his hair, the housekeeper is steady. She's on the verge of carrying onward, but doesn't budge until she's certain Loryn won't spin around again with ten more errands. "I'll see to it, m'lord. Should you like me to send a boy up with some wine or tea for you?"

"No, no, no need, thank you.", Loryn says hastily, "I'm going to the Whimsy. It's the only place where I can find enough peace to even hear myself think. Thank you for everything. I know the wedding is safe in your capable hands." No pressure then. He offers her a little smile and heads off.

Once he's fully in the process of leaving, Viola marches on, shaking her head — but smiling — and mumbling something under her breath about pay.

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