The stand of the Lily is nearly full after the opening of the Tournament. Many here are extraordinary in their looks, whether monstrous or beautiful, but one couple in particular attract the eye. Near the front, sitting part reclined on one of the lower levels, is blond man with a goblet of wine in his hand and bright Gleannine, icy beauty of the House, whom Blythe seems to recognizes, at his side. The only word that springs to mind to describe him is... perfect. Perfectly made. The pair are watching the archers set up and talking. I consider them art, then, and move on without trying to engage. Perhaps another time we can test if their manners are as nicely made, but it is the imperfections in people that intrigue me most these days.

Blythe leads us to Cuan. He sits at the far top edge to the left, sitting by a table laden with small foods, a teapot, and a wine flagon. Sitting by him is a black-haired, blue-eyed young woman, a dark-haired man, and a woman who is indeed intriguingly made among the Alfari. She wears scars, and seems at ease behind them. Hers are nothing at all next to the great long one Cuan owns, and yet, there it is.

They are engaged in an intense conversation, and as we come up she is saying, "It seems that I should speak with the Eoghan of the Word regarding my commission after all ... for perhaps it is not as simple a thing as I had believed it to be." She looks to the other woman, then again on Cuan. "How may we assist you in lifting the compulsion that imprisons our fair Muirne?"

So someone is compulsed. This is bad.

"Good day Friend Cuan and Friend Eseld." Blythe greets them, smiling at the dark haired man and the dark beauty who she seems not to know. "Hello." She offers to each.

She looks at me and back at those assembled, uncertain for a moment and then with a purposeful breath, "This is my Friend, Belesama of the Keep. I find her Good and Right."

I smile at them all in turn, and bow to each. "It is a cold and beautiful day but warm for new friends and good exercise. Well met to all," I say shortly, releasing Blythe to make her greetings. I add nothing more, content to hear what might be said.

With no hint of wit or sarcasm, "As Good and Right friends are hard to come by, I bid you doubly well met, Belesama of the Keep. I am Dagnir Dorian Megil of the Maid," the pretty gentleman says.

Blythe looks between Dagnir and Eseld, "Ah, Eseld, he is most Fair." She says, of Dagnir, but she says it to Eseld, so this must mean they are a pair. I think Blythe is a collector of stories. "Well met, Dagnir. I have been eager for this meeting since Eseld and I became friends the day just past." She holds out her hand to him, her face open and easily read, conveying her simple extension and want of friendship. She makes me wish I were twenty again. But perhaps I was never this friendly, bright creature. "I am Blythe," she says with a warm air.

Eseld stands to give a welcoming embrace kiss on the cheek to Blythe. "My heart is glad to see you, my friend! It is good to have you both meet. I have been hoping for such an opportunity!"

Blythe gives Eseld in turn. "And mine. I had hoped to see you both this day."

And then Eseld turns to me. "Well come and well met, Belesama of the Keep. This is Lady Muirne of the Tower, and Lord Cuan of the Lily." With a little bow, she introduces herself, "I am Eseld of the Maid."

Blythe looks at the one she would now call Muirne. "Good day, Lady Muirne. I am Blythe of the Winds."

Muirne rise from the table to meet us. Her bright eyes twinkle with mirth. I incline my head to each woman, moving so that I may better extend a hand of friendship to each. With arms out, "Well met, dear friends. Please, come and enjoy our vantage, even for a brief moment."
Blythe takes Muirne's offered embraces and returns it heartily. "Thank you, Muirne. Shall we be friends then too? I would like it so. It seems Right."

Muirne's smile broadens, warmth shining in her eyes, "It is my extreme hope to be, Blythe. You have a light about you that shines warmly."

"Thank you, Muirne." She says with simple gratitude. "We shall make it so."

Cuan holds out his hand to me while he gives Blythe a smile. "Welcome." He looks me over appraisingly, his gaze lingering on my right shoulder just briefly. I refuse to squirm, but I do wish I knew what he can see. "You compete for a place in the Grand Melee, then?"

I take hands and return greetings. To Cuan I reply, with a broad smile, "That is my plan, and a good showing along the way, as I can manage. Will anyone else here be taking the field?"

I hear Blythe from my side say to Eseld, "You spoke of Eoghan's commission as I approached. Is all well?"

"The making of it is very well," she tells Blythe. "Cuan's words concerning our King had pulled at threads of my own thought, some of which are trying to be seen clearer…" Eseld says, but I'm caught up in those answering me, and so I miss the most of it.

Muirne laughs at my query, smoothing her dress against her form, "My only role in the day's festivities is that of spectator and to cheer on my friends in their sport." I smile at her. I don't know if she's drawing attention to the dress as a means of showing herself to soft for the field or to be distracting, but she has a laugh I can't help but respond to.

Dagnir, on the other hand, tells, "Today is my first event, the Staff. If I qualify for the Grand Melee for my efforts, there will only be Javelin and Boar Spearing between. Perhaps some temporary alliance may be to our advantage for the great event, if it would not dishonor you to consider it."

My eyes light up at Dagnir's suggestion of an alliance. If I get that far, I will need one desperately - more than one if at all possible. I hadn't even thought of it, so intent on merely making it past this Riochal. "I think I'd make a good ally for a staff wielder. I'll be in Swords, and I have a member of the Word for my third, but I plan to find a way past him."

"It is our Blythe, then, who has worked her way with the master of the Word. You did not speak false, Blythe. He walks with death, indeed, and burns hot, like you. And," Cuan adds more quietly, "it seems we have many reasons to broach with him the subjects that press upon us." I look between him and Blythe, who has been quiet, it seems. He's speaking of Eoghan. She looks relieved.
"Yes, Cuan, he does." Blythe says softly, looking out in the direction of the Word's Pavilion.

"As for Muirne's binding... I must gather Power. Thanks to the fates we are here at such an event where it will be in plentiful supply to me. Perhaps after Blythe's man rides, but before the jousts end for today, we can gather again and depart the fields early, to make our way to a private place before the crowds impede us," Cuan instructs. We are meeting to free the young lady? Well, I'm willing to help with that.

"I will come if I am able, though I go to sit with my House for the Joust," Blythe notes.

Eseld's nod to Cuan is small, and perhaps a bit distracted, but willing. "Where would you have us meet err the jousts end?"

"Blythe, you have been kind enough to offer me a place beside you for the events this day ... will you think ill of me if I join you after a while? With the turmoil that is before us, I ... I find I do not wish to leave ill feelings a place to dwell in my heart." She looks toward the put-together ones in the front of the stands. "I believe I owe my father a better visit than he has yet received from me." Ah, so he's her father then.

Blythe reaches out and touches Eseld's marked cheek, her eyes warm and unassuming, "Do what you feel Right, Friend Eseld. I will be about this place and we shall see one another." Her eyes trace the path that Eseld's did, "Perhaps later I can meet him, as I would have you meet my mother too."

Muirne, like me, quietly watches the exchanges about the table, agreeing to meet Cuan.

"Then join me at the southern exit from the field after the Word's joust, or failing that, at the House of the Lily soon after. There is a display of conjury there scheduled for the evening, by one Ewen of the Serpent. I think it may be of interest to us, if not for its content, then for what it will demonstrate about the skills of its creator."

Dagnir catches my eye again. "Spear is my weapon of choice, but its full expression is not found in Tourney, and Staff is close enough. I have no one ahead of me that I anticipate. This year I will not plan and scheme as I have, but trust in my will, my eye, and my heart," he vows, gently touching Eseld's hand as he speaks this last.

"I would be pleased to ally, then, and look forward to seeing your skill when my own event is through. Once I have qualified, perhaps we might test each other, and see if you prefer me as Staff or Spear as partner."

To Dagnir, I smile. Should I admit it then? Why not? "Oh, I'm happy to have you without testing you. You can't be bumbling. Beside, no one else has offered, so there is honesty. I am done with scheming for today, I declare, but perhaps not practice. How strong are you? The reach of a staff might serve as well as a sword for my purposes, if you're willing to have me with Escrima staves. I do have a two-handed weapon style. I fear the old fashioned way is lost to me." Scheming indeed. Hunting down Riochal, trying to passively tempt him into a match… trying to get his brother in arms to give me hints. It should be enough for the morning, at least.

"Shall we try each other and also meet with these folks?" I ask, trying to track one conversation and the other.

"I would prefer to wait until after today's events to try each other... perhaps even after the showing of this Ewen of the Serpent, if Eseld can spare me the time. I'm sure we won't lack for light in the City in these times." He smiles. He must be thinking of what will be if his lady can't spare him. It makes me grin. "I am no master, but I don't think you will find me to be a shield-cowering Hoplite. Perhaps our unconventional styles will prove complimentary."

"So shall it be, then," I nod to Dagnir. And to the rest, "Whatever this quest is, I am happy to help, but I say you'll find most of my strength on the field. Although I'm pushy enough, if that's what's needed."

Blythe speaks when a pause by others allows for it, "Friends, I am to the stands of the Winds now." She shares, expressing her intentions to depart. There is some conflict in her eyes but determination, too. "I would see you all after the Joust." She says fondly, looking each one in the face, making eye contact.

Eseld reaches out to her, saying, "I will see you soon, my friend. I will walk to the bottom of the stands with you, when you are ready to take the Field, Dagnir."

And so we part ways, but not for all that long.