05.11.3013: Making Amends
Summary: Lyrienne meets with High Lady Eryn to make amends for old broken promises.
Date: 11 May 2013
Related: None
Eryn Lyrienne 

High Lady Eryn's Office
Arboren officey
May 11 3013

There is a lot of activity in Arboren at the moment, given recent events, but Lyrienne is still familiar enough with the ebb and flow of activity here to have chosen her time carefully for when little else would demand the High Lady's attention. Though she's moved through the halls in her hover chair, she's also brought a cane and had the sense to leave the chair outside when she meets with the Lady. She leans on the cane a bit, but still holds herself straight despite her wounds as she knocks gently against the door. "High Lady?" she calls softly.

"Come," the High Lady calls, and the wooden door softly slides open with the voice command. Eryn's study has not changed over the years, which perhaps is a comfort to some. It is airy and welcoming, while also supporting a golden warmth thanks to the pale caramel color of the wood. It sits high in the Elder Seat, allowing for lots of natural light and height above the tree-city. The floors are smooth and softly oiled, reflecting the kalediscope of light streaming in from the multicolored glass inset in the ceiling. The Arboren sits behind her desk, penning with an old fashion quill and ink on wood pulp parchment — the art of calligraphy has always been one of her favored pastimes, and it also signifies she is drafting an entry in her journal. She looks up toward Lyrienne as she enters, and she offers a bit of a smile that seems only a touch strained. "Lyrienne, you should be resting."

"I should," Lyrienne agrees with a small smile of her own as she enters slowly, closing the door behind herself. "But I took a dose a few hours ago, and slept off the drowsiness, so now I'm good for a couple more hours until it's time for the next dose. And…" She pauses, quiet as she makes her way toward the chair in front of the desk. "And I've stayed away for seven years, High Lady," she says softly. "That's too long to let this sort of rift linger. Not with the people who were - who still are - family to me."

Eryn gently caps her calligraphy pen as Lyrienne enters fully, taking the seat before her desk. She taps the butt of the pen softly against the woodpulp parchment as Lyrienne speaks, and she sighs as she slumps back into her seat. "You were to be married to my son, Lyrienne… you put me in the terrible position of having to decide which I liked best… my heir or his could-have-been wife." Those liquid-smoke eyes settle on the woman now, steady as a predator's stare, though there is some maternal familiarity there as well.

Lyrienne pauses, a flicker of pain crossing her features not at her injuries, but at the words. "I never meant for you to have to choose," she says quietly. "I- That's why I left. There's no choice between me and Declan. He's your son. He's your heir. I was just…" She trails off, picking at the wood on the arm of the chair. It's a familiar gesture, an old habit she used to do when she was pulled in for lectures on her latest mischief, or to sit in on a meeting. "High Lady, you've been more of a mother to me than my own mother. At least for as much of my life as I can remember. I never wanted to hurt you. Or anyone here." A pause. "Maybe Declan a little, but that's because I was stupid."

"Youth breeds stupidity," Eryn says plainly, arching a slender dark brow as she crosses her arms at her chest. Her fingers drum idly against her upper arms as she regards the young woman with a kind of methodical sternness. "So, have you come to my study in hopes of bridging this… rift. It will certainly take more than just you, little dove. The Arboren and Orelles have stood toe-to-toe long before you were born." She sighs a bit, turning her seat so that she may glance out the expansive windows out at the leafy view.

"It's not Cedric's fault, High Lady," Lyrienne sighs, leaning back a bit in the chair and picking at the arm again. "He's the least political person…possibly ever. He doesn't even think about it. That's why he's so terrible at dealing with people, and why he's never going to be anything more than the captain of his ship. He's just bad with people. If it was anyone-" She pauses, catching the inside of her cheek between her teeth before she shakes her head. "Going to Oculus was Janelle's idea, but getting drunk was all me, and going home with Cedric was a stupid girl's decision. And what happened as a result was chance. Chance I- I love my son, High Lady. I won't apologize for the fact that he exists."

The High Lady watches the girl as she fusses and fiddles, and she releases a bit of a sigh. "Of course it was Janelle's idea," she murmurs to herself. "That woman's solution to everything is to run from it instead of face it head-on." She then shakes her head. "I would not refute that love, Lyrienne… but what done is done, and it cannot really be changed." She turns in her seat again, this time to look fully at the woman with her elbows propped on the edge of her desk. "Tell this not to my son, but… you should have returned to Arborenin… far earlier. And not in a time of crisis."

"I know," Lyrienne murmurs, looking up to meet the High Lady's gaze. "A long time ago. But I was young, and I was afraid, and I didn't know how to face everyone here. My family. Who I left." She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, letting out a slow breath. "I don't want to see this conflict come without resolving things here. I realized when I heard about your cousin and his wife that- That people I knew and loved, people I'd grown up with, were going to start dying. It's inevitable. Many of us are going to die. And I realized that I didn't want that to happen with all of this unresolved. Without you all knowing what you mean to me."

"Oh… my girl…" Eryn starts to soften a bit, and she releases a small sigh. She reaches out her hand across the table, offering it toward her to take so that they may share a moment of familiarity. "I know what I mean to you… you know what you mean to me. You and yours may survive this… we may all survive this. Do not think that those you love will all perish."

Lyrienne reaches forward to take that hand, her grip tight. "I'm sorry I hurt you," she says quietly. "And I'm sorry it took me so long to come back. I just…I just hope you won't hold it against Cedric's family. I know you and they have never gotten along. I can't blame you, they're all mad," she adds with a roll of her eyes and a wry flash of a smile. "They can't even get along with each other. But holding back the Hostiles is so much more important than our own rivalries right now, isn't it? You taught me what it meant to be family, to hold each other up. And we're all still family in the larger sense."

Eryn cannot help but laugh as her almost-daughter's assessment of the Orelles — it is a warmth and smooth note, almost a bit of a relaxation to her usual cool and methodical shell. She squeezes the hand in return. "I've heard noise that Ilo and his son are quite at odds… but…" And she raises a hand. "I needn't hear about that." She stands now, releasing the girl's hand so that she may walk around the desk toward her. "Rivalries will always remain, but you are right… we will have to let go of them. For now." She smirks. "I suppose I will send you and your husband back to the Ring with the requested Hostile technology… the King as requested the live one be… dismantled as well."

"Maybe Keanen could come along with it," Lyrienne suggests, bracing herself on the cane to stand as the older woman approaches. "He was saying earlier how he wanted a chance to look at things. He hardly even remembered me," she adds with a wry smile. "He's young enough not to have bad feelings about the whole scandal, but he's still Arboren, so you'd have an interest in it. And I promise I'll keep you informed of things if they manage to 'forget.'"

Eryn frowns at the suggestion of Keanen — her youngest after all. She taps her fingers gently on the desk before she agrees with somber nod. "Very well… it is an interest of his." A technophile Arboren — not entirely unheard of, but the High Lady does look a bit uncomfortable by it. "I would like that… yes… you may take Keanen with you, but remind him that he is there to report back to the Spine." She then offers a bit of a gentler smile.

"Of course I will," Lyrienne promises. "He can even stay with us in the embassy at Landing if you'd be more comfortable with it." She hesitates for just a moment, then steps forward to try to catch Eryn in a hug. It's impulsive, and genuine, and as innocent as ever she was as a girl. "I missed you."

"Do not worry about my own comfort," Eryn begins, but it ends with a soft oof as she is hugged. It takes her just a moment before she wraps her arms around the girl, resting her hand against her golden head. "I've missed you too, little dove…" She holds on just a moment longer before she releases her, standing back with her arms gently grasping her shoulders. "You should rest… your children will be longing for you, and I'm sure your husband has grown tired of all the green."

"Oh, he got called back to his ship," Lyrienne says with a wry smile and a slight roll of her eyes. "Fairly enough, though, if there are Hostiles arriving. And the children have their nannies, and Ellinor said she'd check in on them, but you're right. I should go home soon. Marus and Lysandra should be all right, but Julian needs his mother." She rests a hand lightly over her abdomen, careful. "I will say this does hurt a /bit/ more than giving birth."

"It will heal," Eryn offers with a slight smile. "And perhaps it will scar. But it will be a reminder if your first standoff against those that wish to see us entirely wiped from the System." She then sighs as she gives the woman's hand a gentle squeeze. "There is much to be done… and you should see that your children enjoy what peace we have left."

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