(Backdated entry.)
She heard no footfalls, only knowing that he approached when the hem of his black dressing gown entered her vision. He said nothing, merely touched her under her chin with two fingers and guided her head to look up at him. Though the strange light played tricks, she knew his eyes were green, and now touched with the infinite sadness he was often taken with. He then guided her to rise. “Forgive me for waking you, especially as I have no command to give.” Fallen Star's Sorrow's voice was it's usual languid softness. “I only found that I desired company.” Standing face to face, it wasn't hard for Naenie to note that he stood a finger's breadth shorter than she, but that didn't matter.
Naenie smiled faintly at the Deathlord. “There is nothing to forgive. I'm deeply honored that you called on me for company.”
“Honored?” He turned away, chuckling at himself. Naenie took the opportunity to take in the room she'd only been in a handful of times. The wight-lights made stark illumination of the heavy, bone ivory set furniture, of the various things sitting around. Blades decorated the walls, common, ordinary things. Thick rugs padded the floors. Gray-twinged plants grew wild around the circle. And in a place of prominence, a half-broken old window stood framed. Tiny bits of colored glass picked out the figure of a golden haired woman. Naenie never asked. She was aware Lord Sorrow was speaking still. “I don't know if it's much of an honor to sit with an ancient, pathetic, sentimental fool.”
Naenie turned her attention to her lord again, smirking softly. “If you are a pathetic fool, my lord, then I am twice one for being your champion.” He twisted his head around with an arched brow, voice laced with humor, “You don't play fairly, Naenie. You know I don't think you a fool.”
She grinned softly and bowed in response. Silence fell.
“Naenie, speak to me, ” Fallen Star's Sorrow broke the silence softly, though this night it seemed he was more the Surveyor.
She turned things over in her mind, reaching for something to say. “I can give you the defense reports now.”
He chuckled once and fixed her with that soft, sardonic smirk. “Defense reports.”
She blinked at him for a moment, wondering what she'd done to offend him, but he waved his hand for her to continue. “Well, actually, there's not much to report. Your general has the army, such that it is, under hand and all is quiet around the Citadel.” Naenie stood straight with her arms at her side. “Scavengers broke into Bear's Rest, though.” The lord frowned deeply, making her hurriedly continue. “They did, of course, think better of it quite rapidly. Nothing was disturbed.”
“Good.” The lord paced halfway across the room. Suddenly, he stopped, and spun to face her. “You wish to ask something?” He smiled. “I wish you would. Two years you've been with me, and you ask Little but what is necessary.”
Off guard, Naenie blinked rapidly. “Surely such a time is nothing to you.”
“True, but to you….you are young yet. Years are still eternities.”
She absently tucked a stray hair behind her ear and asked the first thing that came to mind. “There are countless tombs, my lord. Why is Bear's Rest so important? I've seen it, it's little more than a pile of stones.”
The lord shrugged widely. “Important? I suppose it isn't in the grandest sense.” He smiled when he saw her open her mouth to speak again and cut her off with a held up finger. “But I don't think that's what you meant, is it?” Turning slightly away, he gazed off. “There are very rarely single reasons why anyone does anything. Contradictions with both selfish and selfless reasons. And always memory. But that does not answer you, does it?”
“No, my lord.”
“Ah.” After a short pause, the lord crossed the room to pour a goblet of wine, then offered it to Naenie. He watched her until she took a small sip, then spoke again. “You should understand that it wasn't always a pile of broken rock, though never grand.” He dazed off again. “Of course, there are things contained within that I do not wish others to have, but those could be moved. No, I don't want Bear's Rest disturbed in memory of the man whose bones are buried there.”
Naenie took another small sip of the bitter wine. “Faithful mourning,” she mused softly. “A friend of yours?”
Chuckling oddly, the man shook his head. “No. He had something I wanted, and I had something he wanted, and thus we could never be friends. But we did share some respect, a great deal from my side.” He Lowered himself quietly into an overstuffed claw armed chair.
Sitting the wine cup down on a small table, Naenie ventured, “But why not Let him be remembered, then? Let them study the mystery and get to know him through his bones? Most scavengers have no such respect, but those that do…?”
The smirk again crossed the lord's face. “He was terribly wronged in life. I would not have him wronged in death as well. I would not be doing my own duty if I allowed such. He was…not the type those above would uphold now.”
Naenie wasn't sure she understood, but nodded anyway. Her eyes strayed to the glass in the silence that followed and couldn't help but wonder who she was.
“I interrupted your rest, my Lament.” His voice broke her reverie. “Perhaps I should let you return to it.”
“I'm fine, really.” Naenie caught him staring at her. “I had another question.”
Propping an elbow on the chair arm, the lord put two fingers to his lips in thought. She started to say something when he spoke again, quieter than normal. “There are some questions that would take a lifetime to answer, certainly longer than you have tonight.”
“I understand.” He smirked at her again in response. “I will go and sleep, my lord.” Naenie bowed deeply and turned to leave.
“No.”
Turning back, she fixed the lord with a puzzled look. He rose and quietly glided across the room and rested a hand on a twisted wooden bedpost. “You will sleep here.”
Shocked, Naenie's voice stuck in her throat and her back immediately straightened into a regal pose. “My lord!” she stammered out.
He chuckled. “No, no. That is not what I mean. I just don't wish to lose the company, but do know you need your rest. I have little need or interest in anything else.” The chuckle faded into a soft frown.
“Forgive me for offending you.” She felt herself blush.
And he was there, in front of her, chill fingertips on her burning cheeks. “No offense, my lament. Did Kaen harm you so that you immediately think the worst of any man? The thought drives me to anger.” Naenie merely hung her head in response. “Stay.” It sounded like a request.
She moved past him to the bed, her back to him. Twisting her head just a bit, she watched him. Slowly, she dropped her clothing to the floor. His face never changed before he pulled up the hood of his gown and the look disappeared. There was nothing in it at all. As she crawled under the covers, she shivered. However, she went to sleep to the soft humming of some long forgotten tune.
Falling Star's Sorrow was gone when Naenie woke next. Clutching the soft covers up to her chin, she gazed around his chambers uncertainly, hating that she was vaguely disappointed that every inch of her body was quite warm.
Old habits took over, however, when she rose and dressed to leave, taking the secret stairway that led from his chambers to her bodyguard's quarters below. She had no idea what the other denizens of the Citadel might think or wonder, and she found she didn't wish to know. Once in her own room, she armored up, picking Kaen up and sheathing it on her back. She remembered her lord's anger, and the daiklaive didn't seem so awful for the moment. Putting the odd night behind her, Naenie Muirah went out to do her rounds.
Halfway across the footbridge over the dark water that surrounded the main tower, Naenie heard a footfall behind her. She spun, then bowed and stepped aside for the figure that also exited across the bridge. It was the figure of a woman, seen many times entering and leaving. Clytesha, Gray Lady of the Widow's Watch, Guardian of the Wailing Watchtower glided by. As far as Naenie could ever figure, the lords of the lesser towers were akin to liege lords, and not the kind of being her lord was. She was told to treat the insides of the lesser towers as other domains, though their leaders were certainly loyal, and she rarely talked to them. Clytesha, this gaunt matron in wisps of gray was rumored to be an ancient ghost, and rarely considered any being less than a few centuries old. Naenie quickly forgot to be offended when the figure never acknowledged her existence.
After Clytesha passed, Naenie fell in behind her to the end of the bridge, into the Maiden's Garden. She started to turn to the left, the path that would take her toward the Last Stand of the Warrior (the Eastern Tower) when she heard a voice like the rustling of dry autumn leaves. “The flowers are blooming again.” Somehow, she knew the voice belonged to Clytesha.
Naenie stopped and hesitantly fell in beside the Gray Lady. “Odd time of year, but they are lovely.”
“It matters not. The maiden's tears blossom when they will, sneaky poison.” Naenie tried to follow the words, but had no response. Her mind worked to puzzle out why Clytesha chose to speak to her now.
“The pup slept at her master's feet.” That was clear enough to make Naenie blush.
“It's not what you think, Clytesha.”
“Does the ant know what the boy child thinks?” Clytesha never looked at her, but stopped at a cross in the garden path, looking straight ahead.
“I suppose not.” Naenie stopped up short beside the figure.
“Does he care for the pup?” Never did the inflection in Clytesha's voice change, just the soft, dry whisper.
Naenie found herself vaguely offended for her lord, though she wasn't sure why. “I should think so.”
“Perhaps yes, but he also cares for that which he destroys.” Clytesha slowly knelt to pick one of the grayish blossoms. “Does the pup think it can have the master's love?” Naenie shook her head slowly, but did not answer aloud.
“Everything here reflects his love.” Clytesha rolled the maiden's tear blossom between a thumb and forefinger.
Letting out a long breath, Naenie forced herself not to throw up her hands. “Forgive my youth and ignorance, Clytesha, but I don't understand you. Are you trying to warn me of something? About our lord?” She wondered if there was something to report here, some sort of disloyalty. “I don't understand,” she repeated.
For the first time since Naenie arrived, the Gray Lady turned full face to her. Pulling herself up regally against twitching, she found something quite disturbing in the black orbs studying her from a wrinkled gray face. “You will.” Naenie swallowed at the words. “You will.”
As Naenie watched Clytesha glide away off toward the Widow's Watch, she couldn't help but feeling much like a piece in a game that she could not comprehend, much less know any of the rules to. She turned to the east and found comfort in routine.