675-06-21 - Healer vs Steward

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Healer vs Steward
Summary: Rayne is summoned to speak with Baldwin's father.
Who: Erek Ivounel and Rayne Devantry
References: re:Baldwin Ivounel, re:Livessa Ivounel
When: June 21st, 675
Related Logs: Recent Rayne and Baldwin logs
Date of RP: 21/06/2014
Where: Ivounel Manor - City of Equis, Duchy of Athereyne
Room Desc: The entrance hall is rather modest, with only one tapestry with the inverted colours of House Lenouvi covering one wall. A pair of windows offers a bit of light during the day, and the stone floor is covered with a rug of green colour. Right ahead is the main room, with a large table of oak surrounded by eight chairs of good quality but plain style. The dramatic backdrop for the area where meals are had, however, is a huge tapestry that covers almost all of the wall, on which the ancestor and first Ivounel, Sir Maric is shown in his epic fight during the 'Melee of Equitaine', in the year 632, against three knights, one of House Fennim, one of House Istivean and one of House Galtiblar. A fight from which he would emerge as the victor. On the other side of the room is a hearth with three comfortable chairs and a small table where sometimes a flagon of wine can be found beside a few cups of clay. The stone floor is covered with a few rugs, and at the walls are sconces with torches, offering a flickering light. A door leads out into the garden, and a stairway leads up to the private quarters of the family members.


The name on the letter was enough to hint that Rayne should dress in something a little more fancy than commoners clothing. The outfit was something she had tucked away, but it wasn't -much- better...fancy commoners clothing perhaps. A black tunic with a gold circular pattern around the neck, and soft tan cloth pants. Arriving at the Ivounel Manor, she had no idea what was in store for her, no idea what has been discussed by any parties. Still, she clung on to a little bit of hope...a ray of it...but she wasn't going to hold her breath. Not after what everyone seemed to love pointing out to her. So at this point she would arrive, and likely after presenting the summons, would be led to wherever it was she was destined to go, to wait or be called to audience.

When Rayne is shown into the salon of Ivounel Manor, she will find Lord Erek Ivounel in his comfortable chair by the hearth. There is definitely a family likeness to Baldwin, he has dark brown hair too, but it has been more and more driven back through the years by a high forehead. He does not share the slight insecurity of his son, though. The steward of Castle Equitaine is a proud man, which becomes quite clear through his bearing. He will remain seated, his head turning casually to face the healer, his eyes swiftly assessing her, before some sort of greeting leaves his lips.

"Mistress Rayne Devantry?"

His hand waves her over in a casual gesture, and he points to a chair. "Please, have a seat." No courtesies are given, no beverages or refreshments offered. The tone definitely not that which would tolerate objection.

There is a nod of Rayne's head in affirmation to the question and then she approaches as she is offered a seat. "Yes, My Lord, thank you." Saying as much, being curteous before settling in the offered seat. "Also, thank you for inviting me to your home, My Lord. It is quite beautiful." Of course, when you live in a little house out in the middle of the woods all your life, can beauty actually be distinguished? Who knows!

A brow is raised at Rayne's words of thanks and praise. "Aye. What you see here is more or less to the merit of my father Sir Maric. I am sure you have heard about him? I've summoned you to speak about some things that have occurred." Getting to the point right away, as he does not intend to beat around the bush. "My daughter tells me you've cast a spell over my son, my son tells me he is in love with you, but he has not done anything to endanger your 'honour'" A low snort of sarcasm there, as well as a twitch of the corner of his lips. "Still, I hear the affair was talk of the Isles." And there his forehead wrinkles a little. "So... what's your side of the story? And how did you get the idea, this could eventually work?"

"Aye my lord, a little of him and of the family history from Sir Baldwin." Rayne would say that much before it would seem the point was quickly at hand. The talk of casting a spell causes the healer's eyes to widen, and she further shakes her head when it's mentioned that the affair between herself and Baldwin was 'the talk of the Isles.' She would quickly took to her hands, still folded within her lap, trying to wrap her mind around such things until Erek asks for her side of the story. "I...," she would begin thinking her thoughts complete but then she shakes her head once more. "My side of the story is that from the moment I met your son, here in Equis, I was drawn to him. He's respectful, kind, honorable... and admittedly a bit drawn in by a few of his quirks. We met again on the Isles, and spoke a few more times when he was involved of a skirmish in Piradin and once brought back to Deave I was called to treat his wounds." She glances to Erek then. "I did as I was sent to do, My Lord, and I treated your son of his wounds like any healer would. Admittedly, that night, we also got belated by conversation..but the conversation was had with intent to keep him distracted a bit as I - again - cleaned his wounds." She would take a breath then. "I am sure you are already aware, My Lord, of my own would-be transgressions on the Isles. Accused of murder and thievery...yet I was cleared as the true culprits were caught." Not sure where to make the connection at. "I have never been a firm believer in stature My Lord. I follow it, but I do not believe in it. Sir Baldwin was nothing but honorable and kind to me, and all those around him, especially in times of need. And I, well, in truth my lord, I do not tend to believe in stature to a degree. How do nobles become noble in the first place? And if a noble can converse and sit with a commoner in plain sight and company, if they happen to find such company agreeable, perhaps even endearing, who should truly stand in their way." She would shrug then, her eyes darting back to her hands still folded in her lap.

Erek's face turns into a grimace when Rayne speaks of how she got to know Baldwin. "Now isn't that sweet," he mutters, more to himself, as he rolls his eyes ever so slightly. The amusement seems to fade a touch when she mentions talking to his son as distraction from any discomfort. A snort leaves his nose and he shakes his head. "You mean to tell me, you engaged into sweet talk as some means of mulling the pain? Now, that's an interesting view of a healer's duties..." Then when she speaks of Baldwin's conduct Erek will nod. "Aye, he's been taught well, obviously." A bit of relief there in his faint smile.

That smile fades then, and Erek frowns, when Rayne expresses her opinion about status. "You will understand I cannot share your view there, Mistress Devantry. No, even more than that, I find it despicable! Noble blood is the basis of our society. Royal blood is what carries the weight of our kingdom! To disregard the full meaning of one's descent is close to high treason therefore, if you ask me!" Even if she doesn't. "Decorum is what stands in the way of such a union, but well..." and there he gives her an impertinent look, "if one does not care about such things,... they may meet secret and have all the fun in the world,... But no marriage will result from whatever bastards threaten so see the light of day. Baldwin knows that. He knows what it means, to be born a bastard. His own grandfather was. He will not want to impose such a fate on his offspring. So there you have it. Not even that is an option when it comes to you and my son." And Erek Ivounel leans back in his chair, his hands folded before him as he watches the healer, awaiting her reaction.

The expression on Rayne's face is something between disdain and bewilderment. "I will remind, my lord, I never said anything that the talks were sweet. It was simply talking. About his wounds, and the care needed as they healed because of the work I had done to them. As a healer should regard to those they are tending to." She would begin with that much and then she tilts her head up in such a way. "I am glad that such knowledge of your sons behaviour pleases you."

It's then that she listens to the man before her shout about her thoughts and opinions on matters such as status. She stands then, those typically moss green eyes having gone jaded. "This is what I do not understand. When it comes to status and decorum and the surroundings of such. You nobles will sit there with your head held high, on your pedestal of title, and think so low of us with more common blood. Yet who is it that polishes your armor, fixes your swords, tends to your wounds? You say that royal blood carries the weight of the kingdom? I would beg it to be seen as the other way around. You can sit there with your prim and proper thinking, with not wanting the same fate to befall your son as it did his grandfather, but I digress. You and your line of nobility will not be tainted by one such as myself." Her jaw would tighten, and if one could see the heart, it was clenched by too many emotions to count. "I love your son, my lord. Perhaps nothing you would want to hear pass a commoner's lips, but it is the truth, and I pride myself in always speaking plain. Yet if this is your will, then so be it." So much more she wished to say, but she felt it would fall upon deaf ears, and so she keeps it as she has said - already feeling her blunt nature would be the end of her.

Both brows are raised, causing the forehead to wrinkle again, that mouth though is twisted in mild amusement. A commoner speaking up so plainly is certainly something that does not happen every day in this household. Although not all of what she has to say is dismissed that easily. "You are right, indeed, we rely on services rendered to us by our subordinates. Still, would everyone continue to do so, when the order of the world is put into question? The result would be chaos, and the Two Rivers' downfall. It is this order, the fact that everyone - well almost everyone - remembers their palce, Mistress Devantry, that keeps the Two Rivers going. With a wise King like Barret Brais carrying the weight and responsibility for all. But... that is not the topic here, is it...?" He pauses, shooting Rayne a glance. "I am the head of this family. It is my task to think of its future. A marriage to a woman of lower station is not an option, therefore. Even my father was quite amibtious in his choice of wife!" It was indeed a woman of House Istivean, who rules the Duchy of Granville. "No, I will see to it that Baldwin will get an advantageous match. To a respected woman of high nobility. I admit that in all candidness, Mistress. Love may be a reason for commoner marriages. For nobles there are other rules that apply." Some of the sharpness has left the Ivounel's tone. He has made his point. And he will remain seated, when Rayne seems about to go. "That will be all, Mistress. If there isn't anything you wish to add?"

"What more could come from marrying anyone in a noble station? More nobility? Would a person of my station not simply be lifted into that station?" Rayne would ask, curious, but it would seem nothing she could say would change the Lord Ivounel's mind. Why would it? Listening, that was all she could do after a moment, because the rest of her energy was being spent keeping a straight face, and burying everything that wanted to boil up to the surface. So, she lifts her head up once more, taking a breath and then lowers her head a bit in respect. "I wish Sir Baldwin nothing more than happiness, and pray that this match serves your house well, my lord." Resigning, what more could she do? She had even told many that if this were what happened, she would take the course given, regardless of heart - as it would seem the heart had little to do with the mind of others. "No, my lord, I've nothing more. Thank you, again, for seeing me..." Dismissed, perhaps, she gives something akin to a bow...or a respectful nod. "By your leave, my lord." Turning then to go.

"More influence," Erek retorts with a faint smirk. "A rise in station is possible even for the likes of us. Whereas... marrying down will be frowned upon by anyone, and rightfully so." Leaning back, he considers before he nods. "A good day. Mistress Devantry. And... if you love Baldwin as you say you do, I advise you to stay away from him. For his good, and yours too..." And there he dismisses her with a casual wave of his hand.