For a moment, the world is wrong; the cold of Hell seeps into my bones. It is like passing through the Veil between worlds and never coming out. But then, suddenly, I'm out, and the Bronn's back is there before I can stop my momentum.

We're in the dimmed light made blue by the cloth of a pavilion. Another large man among all these men is here, with his arm around a dark-haired woman. Both appear a little surprised at my sudden appearance...

"…by this young woman. Sought to test his dance against hers, I'd guess," Bronn is saying.

I straighten up, and pull my cloak over my shoulders with great dignity. I bow to him, and the lady, and I shrug, yet again, but happy to be able to do it. "We're to meet in the third round of Swords, were we to both make it that far. I sought him out; Forewarned is forearmed."

It is cold. "Bronn, why don't you take my cloak?" I offer, suddenly quite put out by the thought of this, greatest of healers, becoming ill.

The woman beside the man frowns, her eyes going over Riochal's form, then to Bronn and finally to me. She looks almost like she's calming herself, to me, but her look is calm and friendly as she addresses us.

"Hello, Bronn," she says, and introduces herself. "I am Blythe. May I help you...." She looks around the pavilion. Riochal groans a little in Bronn's arms, and with an irritated look at the man, Bronn sets him down on a camp bed at the back of the pavilion.

The man (whose pavilion this must be) looks a little at a loss for words, and finally he says to Bronn, "But... who is she?" as he gestures my direction.

"Don't ask me," grumps Bronn, who sets about stripping the man's bloody clothes from him. I watch these proceedings with some consternation, but blush when I realize I've introduced myself to absolutely no one.

The lady Blythe looks between Eoghan and Bronn, her face almost comical. She then looks at me, smiles with just some tiny bit of mirth and says, "I will ask. Who are you?" She takes a step forward and holds out her hand in greeting.

I take the young lady's hand, gratefully. "I'm Belesama of the Keep, my lady. My apologies for my lack of manners." I open my mouth to make excuses, and then close it again. There is no excuse. "Sir," I acknowledge, and bow again at the new stranger, and "Sir Bronn," finally.

Blythe's hand is clean but one that has seen work, which makes me glad, as soft hands have come to bother me. She gives an even squeeze, "Just Blythe. I am of the Winds. I've a hankerchief and I think I saw a basin here last night." She remarks, looking around and then back at the man she was with. Is with. She looks at me quickly and explains, "This is Eoghan." And her naming of him carries something to it.

Eoghan turns, frowning, from where he had been staring down at Riochal. "I reckon your friend here will be eager to meet you again when the sword field opens." A sudden look of mischief comes to him, "Or I could order him off, and we shall all meet in the Grand Melee."

My eyes go wide. "Oh, no. Let us fight. If I can beat him... then I can beat him. And if I can't, I don't belong in the Grand Melee. Under the sun, I intend to best him. I do hope Bronn will be there for it, because I doubt I can do it without half killing him."

I look at Bronn hopefully, and a smile breaks across my face. I address him. "That's where I know you from! You are Bronn of the Keep."

I turn back to Eoghan. "You two were somewhere in my history lessons, had I paid more attention. Welcome home."

Eoghan just looks a little stunned. I hear Bronn chuckle, but he keeps his back to me. I worry just a little that he hasn't fully healed Riochal, as I thought.

"You would be the first to welcome us, it's true," Eoghan finally replies.

Blythe moves unobstrusively to assist Bronn, who seems to put her off.

"I can welcome you, sir, even if it worries me," I explain.

My eyes follow Blythe. "I can help too," I offer. "My mother would scold me for not cleaning up when I make a mess."

There is a sudden pause. Eoghan laughs and Bronn joins in. They are not used to teasing and laughter, at least, not my kind.

"Eh, I'll not tell him you said so, though." He motions to Blythe, who is laughing at us, "Take our swordmistress out, now, and be on your way, too. I have to get my armor ready, and set my mood to the ride."

She inclines her head to Eoghan at his order, "Good day, Eoghan," she wishes, and to me, "Shall we go, Belesama?" looking at the door way out.
I shake my head at the men, but they are used to one another. Very well then. I go to Blythe and offer her my arm, like a man might. "Although I daresay Riochal would rather have us clean him up than these two, we shall leave the comrades be."

Blythe smiles, taking my arm. She is stronger than I expect, but I know my thoughts are not quite in good order yet.

"I know him not well enough to agree or disagree, but I will take your word." Then she looks back over her shoulder, "I had mind to simply dump lots of water on him." She blushes at her bold thought, which is charming, considering I just skewered the man.

"Did you best him?" She asks, curious, after we leave the pavilion.

"No, but I might yet. In a battle, he'd have killed me and he'd have lived long enough to be healed. On the field, he could have just cut off my air supply until I was out, making him the winner. I do think I managed a more immediately life-threatening wound, and that likely because he didn't think I'd do it, but he tore me up just as well. I have to stay out of his reach, or it will be over quickly." I smile at the challenge.

"But I don't know him so well either. In fact, I don't believe I even properly introduced myself to him, either. Still, he struck me as the kind of man who might prefer being washed by beautiful women as opposed to his old campaigning fellows," I grin. "Eoghan is jousting, then?"

Blythe listens, "I can offer little advice on such things." She admits freely, "They are not things I have learned." She smiles, "But you must be skilled to have done even as you did, Belesama."

"Most men would prefer such pretty help." She agrees.

"In the joust and grand melee." Blythe notes, looking over her shoulder back at the Pavilion but for a moment. "And you?"

I watch her movement, and wonder. "We'll see how far I can get in Swords, before I worry about the Melee. Though, really, it's where I want to be. And on the other side of the Tournament, I am hoping someone invites me to some dancing, because I'll desire that after all the harsher styles, however things turn out. Surely someone will be hosting a fete with dancing," I muse.

"Do you dance, Blythe?" I ask, because whatever her strength, she doesn't seem a fighter. Age is impossible to guess at though she strikes me young, I like to do the same, for it makes people underestimate one, and advantage can be had of that. And, well, because I like those who dance.
Blythe nods and pauses to compose her replies. "I have been told there is much feasting, dancing and revelry at Tournaments." She makes eye contact me, both wariness and a soft excitement in her blue slanted eyes, and I wonder what she's afraid of, but not afraid at all of the head of the King's Word. "This is my first tournament, so I can only hazard to say where dancing would happen."

"Dancing," she repeats, "I have not taken to learning it yet. But I would try it. I like music." She says then, "Especially amidst the wilde. I have danced there but I am not so certain it is the same as what dancing happens at a fete."

"I have two uncles who can dance. Would you like for me to ask them to offer you an invitation?" Blythe offers simply.

I chuckle and pat her hand. I lean my head a bit toward hers and speak more softly. "Oh, if I will I think I'll be alright without help. And if I lose, someone will take pity on me." I don't say what some will be looking for if I win.

I look at the King's Tower in the distance and feel strange talking about these friviolities. And yet, "Dancing can merely be self-expression. I think that's the most beautiful thing. So if you dance like a wilde creature, those who are put off by that are best put off, for they will never understand you. It is hard to be so brave, sometimes, I know. This is the rule I follow: I must be polite, or I must at least try, and I must be who I am. Not everyone needs to know who I am, but inside me, it is what I must be, and I can not dance as anything other than who I am. I have a formal side, so if they dance formal, I can. I have a wilde side too, though it has been some time since I've let it loose. Well, mayhap a bit today. But dancing is dancing. If the party is too stuffy for you, escape it and find - or start - one that is right." I look at her to try to impart some of this confidence. She does seem quite young.

Blythe listens and her eyes widen. Her head leans in closer still and for a moment our heads touch, hair mingling. "Belesama, how right your words are." Some unaware tension escapes her. "You are Belesama and I am Blythe." She states, her words having meaning, again. She seems to need to define her world, herself, often. I don't envy her that. "Before I came to Alfar, I did not spend much time around people. I had few companions and large groups made me feel..." She spreads her hand over her stomach, "Unsettled."

She pulls in a breath, "But I am Blythe. Blythe who loves Eoghan. Blythe who is Alfar." She looks at me, "I am learning." "Maybe we can go dance amidst the wilde. I have not had a companion to take beneath the moon's light to chase her beams."

This all draws a smile from deep within me. "Dancing with moonbeams sounds wonderful, if we can wait for the Tournament's end. Would you mind if I brought my swords?"

I can feel her excitement and energy. I am not entirely surprised she's broken whatever hold the Oath had on Eoghan. "Oh I would much enjoy that. There is no rush, Belesama. The moon will wait for us, she is patient."

Getting closer to the field and smelling the food, I wince in hunger. "Let us eat, Blythe. I need to put some energy back in my body after Riochal. That man can fight, not that I expected less, and we were quick, but I'm starved."

I lead us toward one of the booths, the closest, in fact. The nearest booth, presented by the House of the Bracken, has extraordinary strips of soft-smoked meats of many varieties wrapped around dried fruits and bitter greens. Also long rolls of citron-studded buttery bread, and fruited water.

"I can always eat." Blythe agrees, "I have tried several things this morning." She follows and makes her selection before answering me.

"So Eoghan then? Is he fair?" I ask, leaving that open to her interpretation.

"He is Eoghan." She says simply, her words soft. "I love him and I find him so. It was he and the Word that found me and brought me home to my mother." She adds, sharing some of her tale. "I have seen him a few times since as I grew but more of late and we have since become lovers," she says with a placid frankness.

I inhale the scent of the meat. Good food is the most wonderful thing in all the worlds. "He seems like a man of few words, but not cold. It must have been a hard life, all these years," I note, moving away from the booth and finding us a little space to sit, before taking advantage of the food.

Blythe does not reply for a moment, "I think it was very hard, yes." She says in final agreement, no mistaking some sadness in her tone. "But there is tomorrow." She adds, as much to herself as to any other, following me in tandem.

"Your mother must have been so glad. I can't imagine the pain of losing a child. Is your mother also of the Wind?"

Her somberness lessens, "Yes, she is Muireann of the Winds. I could not have dreamed of a mother more fitting for I."

"What of your kin?" She asks, taking a healthy bite of food.

"My parents are both of the Keep, though they ended up at opposite gates as often as not. I've been traveling some time, and I'm just back, and have not given them the proper attention. I've been focused on the Tournament. My mother is one for letting people make their own way, while my father is one for wanting to help one along the way he might think is best. They are both wonderful. My father did not want me to go, but he will be glad of my return, I hope," I admit, and give a glance toward the northern gates.

"I did miss them, but I am a little nervous they will not love as well who I am now. But of course they will," I insist.

Blythe frowns at that notion, and touches my arm in a comforting gesture, "I know them not, but for certain you are a Fine, Fair, and Good. If they did love you not as well, surely you are not the lacking and I have hope that time would offer its counsel." She smiles.

"I'm certain they'll behave," I assert. "And I don't know how good I am. I immensely enjoyed getting my sword in Riochal - at least, until he decided to show me what his hands can do." I smile wickedly. "No, even then... it would not have been worth it if Bronn had not come, but he did, so it was. I will have to be more cautious because Bronn owes no one his services anymore, so far as I can tell."

"Fate has a way of making things work." She notes with a returned grin that seems new to her face of late.

Blythe's eyes go of their own accord towards the Tower, "I know not where their services lies, Belesama. Things have...." What word, there, "Changed." It was an obvious word, but sometimes that was right.

I nod. "Riochal told me some. It will be an interesting few days. I came back just in time." I try to smile, to match my light tone, but I can't manage it. I turn back to my food instead.

Between mouthfuls, I mention, "I have feelings about what was asked of them. I know I would not want it asked of me. There is service and sacrifice, and then there is... it just saddens me. Perhaps at the time they were Oathed, no one thought it would go on like it has."

Blythe nods, her demeanour wanes a bit, "I too have thought this, but have not pressed Eoghan on it. Our meetings have been seldom and occupied with coupling." Again her words are frank but in her peaceful way. "I hope they can all find lives after such an existence that are more pleasant then the ones they have endured for the sake of others."

I lean in and say quietly, "I agree, but until we see how the Kingdom reacts, it might be wise of us to be careful what we say too loud. If anything gets through, some people will blame them for coming back." I smile. "It's good to see such passion, though. Like I said, he seems a man of few words."

Blythe nods and her eyes seek the ground, "I know. I know my part in this." She says it with some sense of gravity and responsibility. Her shoulders square, accepting the burden. She focuses back on me, "He is Eoghan." Her smile is more free. "From where do I keep you?" She then asks.

I can feel the weight of sadness behind my eyes. "I will seek my father, I think, so I can try out some tricks to use on Riochal. But Blythe - you don't know you had any part. Some things just have their time. If you want to be She Who Frees, take that title. But what guilt is there in what's right? Don't put burdens on yourself for undoing a wrong done - knowingly or unknowingly - nearly a millinea ago."

I whisper. "It is one thing to ask a knight to give ones life for the protection of home. It is another entirely to ask one to give their soul."

Blythe sets her food aside, raising her gaze to me again. There is something old, resolved and calm there. Again, I can't be certain of her age, or just her inexperience with politics. "Your words are Right again, Belesama. It is not of my part in it or what consquence may befall me for it that I give pause to. I worry for those that might..." She pulls in air, "That might suffer consequence because of it."

"In nature the rabbit dies so the fox may live. I understand that ebb and flow but there seems to be more than Nature's work here. I know not of King's and such Oaths, but even men such as the Word...what a terrible price twelve paid for the sake of all us."

"Well, you have just said what I've been thinking these last few hours. We are of a mind on this. I would but someone show me it had to be that way, but I don't believe it did." I sigh. It is a tragedy. It may yet be more of one. "But it's not nature for the lions to guard the sheep, either."

"What will you do next? Watch the jousting?" I ask with a little smile.

There is another nod but she speaks no more of the looming shadow casting over the gorgeous day. "I would like to see Cuan of the Lily's before tourney starts, should I have time." She looks around, "How much time do we have before the Joust begins?"

I look to the sky, and the field. "A few hours yet, I think." I finish up my food and pick up. "Would you like me to escort you to him?" I offer, with a grin and a bow.

Blythe smiles with some humour, "Yes, new Friend who is Belesama; I would like that. It gives us cause to spend more time together." She offers an arm to the swordsmistress when she is done eating.

"I found a friend yesterday, Eseld the Smith." Blythe says, in such a way that perhaps shares that her wariness and her shyness had inhibited such findings in times prior. "She is wonderous and wise, like you."

"I have yet to meet her beloved, Dagnir, but I have certain hope we will find friendship too."

I take Blythe's hand and place it gently on my arm. I weave my way through the crowds toward the stand of the Lily, and watch everyone around me again, slowing down to point amusements and beauty out to my companion. She herself makes mention of some of the delightful foods she had chance to sample before going to the Word's Pavilion.

"So I am just back and you have been here longer. Do you have any favorites in the Tournament, beside Eoghan? Who are people speaking of going in, beside the Word?" I ask.

"My mind was of a single track," she admits. "Other names I do not recall with any certainty. I know people felt it easier to come or felt more the urge to come then they had before. I have not other favourites." Blythe confesses, "I would have all win and be happy for their part in things, though I know that is not the way of a tournament. So I would settle for others feeling satisfaction in their performance, learning something, even if a victory is not theirs."

I laugh. "That's what everyone should want, yes. Even for me, as much as I'd like to defeat Riochal, if I can just make a good showing against him, that will be good for my reputation. Much will depend on what he does to his first two opponents. Of course, I merely have to beat my first two. I don't have to make it pretty. Although, if I can, I will, I think. And this is where my one track is."

"I've spent years studying this new style beyond the Veil. I hope to prove it out as worth so much time and... distance," I explain.

Blythe listens, "Were there names for these places beyond the Veil? Who did you meet?" She asks, curious and hopeful.

I muse on this. "Well, the place was called many things, depending on which person you asked. I came to think of it as 'The Empress's World', but that only came to my mind as I was readying to leave. It was a place of bright sun and mountaintops blanketed in snow all seasons. I had gone there briefly, once, when I was younger, and acting as a bodyguard. It was where I encountered the style of fighting I now use, and it spoke to me. I thought it was so beautiful I almost froze for the first time ever during a battle."

"So it distracted me from taking more commissions, and I kept going back, trying to find a Master of the Art who would teach me. They are confused about women in this place, so it took me some time, but finally I found one. Master Ganryu, he was already an elder by their measure by the time he accepted me amoung his students. And then he taught, and I studied, and we practiced, and it was he who gave me my vambrances." I let the cloak and Bronn's sleeve fall back as I lift my free arm to show her the golden and red leather encasing my forearms.

Her hand runs over the the vambrace and she nods, "That is a Fine Gift." She says, her hand dropping back to her side, "Was good that this Master took you in. You've a way of moving that I imagine is most..." The words seem slow in coming and she changes course, "Like dancing, but with blades. I would see it, for I only imagine what it looks like now." She taps her head.

Then she smiles, squeezing my arm, "Ah, Belesama. I would see you win! So there, I have another besides Eoghan."