RP:Justice and Compromise
Synopsis: Josleen and Hildegarde have a rare moment where they are at odds with each other. Hildegarde understands the need to work with Laezila for the sake of strategically winning the war. Josleen is blinded by vengeance after what Laezila did to her friend Skylei.
Frozen Throne
Josleen paces into the throne room dressed in her usual floral clothing. Her role in the fort has always been a strange one that often bleeds into politics without a title to back her voice; but that’s never stopped her from using her voice. Normally it’s to back Steward Hildegarde’s decisions, but today she fears they may not see eye-to-eye (just the one). Her nerves fray at the thought of possibly debating the towering steward. She’s never been on that side of the fence, at odds with the knight. She’s sick to her stomach just thinking about it, but she has to do this. She had been told the Steward was last seen in the Throne Room. Her kitten heels click on the ice floor, skidding a centimeter left and right with each pace, and yet the woman never slips. Sorcery is a foot.
Hildegarde had spent much of her day discussing politics here in the throne room and throughout the fort, for she would abide by the traditions of certain tribes: speaking outside under the moon and stars for the Quelodians, speaking over food and fire with the Northern Kuronii, sitting the throne to discuss with the giants and dish out commands and finally sitting in a small hut with the elves to discuss the next step of the plan particularly that of their move to Sage providing they were victorious in their war. Finally, the Silver had a little peace and quiet. Enough time to sit upon the throne with her halberd across her lap and a whetstone caressing the axe-head of the polearm lovingly. The click-clack of those kitten heels were far more disturbing than any war-horn the knight might ever hear and she knows who they belong to; only one woman dared to wear such footwear here in the City of War. With a gentle sigh, the Silver would continue to tend to her polearm from the throne until disturbed.
Josleen waits until she stands before Hildegarde to address her. The setting exacerbates her nerves. Hildegarde is already a big woman/dragon/queen, and the throne intensifies the differences in their statures, both physical and political. This would be an excellent time to just say Hi and move on — abandon the course, Josleen! But the bard cannot. Her sense of justice has been too violated, and her thirst for revenge too starved. “Hi Dame Hildegarde, how does the evening find you?” she chirps cheerfully enough. “Is this a bad time?”
Hildegarde gently pocketed the whetstone and set the halberd upright, looking to Josleen with a friendly smile as she rose from the icy throne. “M’lady,” she greeted politely, “it finds me overjoyed, of course, to merely be in your company.” The Silver descended the steps gracefully and closed the distance between herself and Josleen. “No, no, please. Speak. I am of a mind to conclude as much business as possible today.”
Josleen‘s nose wrinkles cutely above a smitten smile. Hildegarde’s greetings always make her feel special, and it only makes her feel extra guilty knowing what she has come here to challenge. “Well, it’s about the drow prisoner. Or I should say former prisoner, Laezila. I discovered last night that she now is free. I am…” Her gaze sweeps the room for the right words. “Chilled by the news.” Pause. “Did you know she is the one who abducted Skylei?” Her voice maintains a practiced calm until she mentions Skylei’s abduction. There, a vengeful fire sparks in Josleen’s stare, one which rarely possesses the good-natured bard. “I wish to know why she was released, for I cannot puzzle out any situation in which this is justice.”
Hildegarde had a feeling that Josleen was approaching her for a specific matter, though what she was unable to say until the woman had actually announced what she wanted to discuss. For all she knew, the woman might have wanted to discuss herbs and supplies; ideas and standards for the clinic. “I had heard that Skylei was found in the D’Artes manor, but I know not the intricacies and specifics of who abducted our beloved friend,” she said calmly. The knight did not comment on whether or not she had noticed the vengeful spark in the bard’s eyes, “I can only offer my apologies in regards to having chilled you so with my treatment of the former Matron Laezila,” she said courteously and gently, as if she had unending patience. “But you wish to know why I chose to release Laezila and that is a fair demand. I know of your fierce love of Skylei and loyalty to her; I would not begrudge you this question. Laezila was taken prisoner by Emrith, an elven warrior. He brought her here to my fort, where my word is law. He… He had wounded her terribly, in body, mind, heart and spirit. Yes, the drow have done many a terrible thing; yet who are we to judge one drow for the deeds of the many? Laezila was a frightened girl, weak and weary. Emrith threatened to let a rat burrow into her belly; a cruelty I would never permit.” The woman paused for a brief moment, before continuing. “I offered her a place in Frostmaw in exchange for her assistance in this war. It was a tactical decision. And a mercy.”
Josleen does not yield to Hildegarde’s gentle plea for her to understand the necessity of mercy. When the steward asks if they are to judge one drow for the actions of many, the bard is quick to say, “She abducted Skylei and should bear the punishment for it.” Emrith’s plans disgust Josleen, though she doesn’t disagree with his vengeful spirit. Still, the thought of an elf planning such twisted punishment does disturb the nurse. Her face twists visibly, nostrils lifting as if to evade a bad smell. Josleen wants revenge, not macabre pornography. As Hildegarde explains her logic, Josleen shakes her head in disbelief of Laezila. “And what assistance can she provide? Has she offered a specific action? I fear her act may be too charming, for Krice is also quick to believe her. How do you know she’s not a spy? What proof is there that she is true to her words?”
Hildegarde sighed gently, “Then let me tend to justice when the war is over, Josleen,” she said softly and with a weariness that was reserved only for friends or close associates. “She will provide knowledge, insight and sway. Her House can be of use, though it is weak and vulnerable right now. It may still be of use. Krice believes her, as did Nymh. They wander after her like puppies and they think I lie in wait; waiting for the moment to destroy her.” The woman shook her head at this, seemingly displeased with this attitude. “Should Laezila act against Frostmaw or do anything untoward, I will deliver justice.”
Josleen‘s eyes narrow when Hildegarde mentions Krice among the puppies that follow Laezila. He led Josleen to believe otherwise in their conversation last night. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed if you were lying in wait to destroy her. I mean, for Sven’s sake, Hilde, look at what she did to Skylei!” Her cool collected mein gives way to frustration. She fidgets, her arms moving wildly as she gets to the heart of what is bothering her. “If she ever wakes again, who knows how this will have afflicted her mind!” The heat rises and Josleen sharpens her criticisms, though her direct target in not Hildegarde, but Laezila and this soft drow-loving society at large, Hildegarde may catch a little friendly fire. She paces a little too. “If Skylei wakes, what am I supposed to tell her when she sees her captor walking among the free, arm in arm, sharing drinks in the tavern? Last night, I was there when she joined the crowd, and I made to leave because, well, because I hate her! I damn well hate her, and her twisted race! And strangers came to her defense! Hers! I was ridiculed for hating our enemy. Has the world gone mad? Am I wrong to despise those that have hurt my kin, and the good people of the Sage, my neighbors? What a slap in the face to the soldiers fighting the war, and what an insult to Skylei. Maybe it’s for the best that she isn’t awake to witness this, this, well dammit, this bullshit!”
Hildegarde remained calm through some kind of mysterious or divine grace of Aramoth or some kind of knightly virtue; something that was odd to say the least. “Skylei has been abused, there is no lie about that but I will not lie in wait to destroy a woman has promised to assist me. If she breaks her vow, then so be it; I will deal with it.” The woman straightened her posture slightly, her sole eye gazing at Josleen thoughtfully. What could she tell the nurse? What could she tell her that would make her happy? Only things she had no wish to do. Only false promises that she would not bring herself to make, no, hers was a path of honesty. “You are not wrong to hate or to dislike, Josleen. No one can really say that you are wrong to do that. But this is my kingdom. I have permitted Laezila citizenship and I expect her cooperation in return for that extension of trust; which so far she has given me. It may seem like a bad decision to you, but… Advantages are necessary in war. Skylei sleeps, for now. When she wakes, who knows if Laezila will remain in Frostmaw? But for now, Skylei is undisturbed by Laezila. She will wake.”
Josleen isn’t satisfied, but she can tell she won’t get any satisfaction. With an exasperated shake of her head she backs off with a sigh. Laezila walks free; Skylei is in a coma in a bed with no promise of walking or waking ever again. She is blind to all the other machinations at play here. She doesn’t believe the drow, and she’s bewildered by her experience in the tavern. It’s lonely being one of the few true haters of the drow in Frostmaw, and surprising. Didn’t expect that to be a minority opinion. “The sooner the war is over the better,” she says, already starting to go with no love or kindness left to spare for a cheerful goodbye. Hildegarde isn’t the enemy, Jos knows that, but right now it’s hard to not be blinded by hate. She needs to find a sounding board elsewhere.
Hildegarde did not expect much kindness nor warmth from Josleen on this matter. Nor did she anticipate every changing her mind on the issue, so it wasn’t something she was going to fight about. “That is something we agree on,” she remarked with a little smile. “As always, my lady, it has been a pleasure to speak with you. Though I would much prefer our time together to be in far more pleasant circumstances as this, I will take what I can get in order to enjoy your most pleasurable company.” Ever courteous and ever friendly, the knight offered the lady a respectful bow.
Josleen would say goodbye but her mouth is too dry from all that salt she’s been licking all day. Kitten heels out.