Mirrored Truths
Twenty-Second Day of the Tenth Month 293 AC
Yesterday's discussion with the the Yi Tish sage left you with no small concern regarding how they and the people of the Golden Empire in general might take to the raising of weirwoods and the forging of dragonsteel, to name but two of the deeds that require the spilling of blood, but those concerns pales besides the prospect of today's meeting. Conversing with the Chosen had left a bitter taste in your mouth, one you doubt will grow any sweeter on a second meeting.
"At least it is only one, not both," Varys hisses in your mind.
"Should you need to kill her..."
"Then I have failed rather spectacularly at the parley," you reply absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the mirror in front of you as you consider the glamuor you will be wearing to Greyshield. You would of course be dressed for battle just in case your familiar's words prove prophetic, but appearance, even one woven by illusion, is not to be underestimated, particularly when walking into a delicate meeting. Nothing too kingly, lest it be taken for a challenge or a threat, but not so common place that it might be taken for abasement before the Chosen or their gods. Ordinarily you would choose the doublet and hose you wear for private meetings in Braavos, but it does not seem to quite fit. You are not a foreigner to the Seven Kingdoms, however much certain parties might wish you would stay away from its shores...
"That is a lot of staring in the mirror," Lya's voice floats up from behind you. "Should I be jealous?" she teases.
You make no attempt to stop the incredulous laugh that rises to your lips unbidden. "Save that for when I am meeting someone of a more congenial disposition... like Bel, Lord of Avernus."
"It's not that bad." You see her rolling her eyes behind you in the mirror. "Danelle is hardly going to try to steal your soul to sell to the highest bidder."
"The second part, no, the first depends on one's definition of 'steal'," you counter. "How is this?" The glamour around you blurs indistinctly before settling on the same doublet and hose as before, but in the black and crimson of your House.
"You look handsome as ever," she shrugs. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"Don't you have that lunch at the library, the one where you are trying to encourage the various potentates to invest more towards scholarly pursuits?"
"No, that's tomorrow, but speaking of conflicting schedules..." the trails off, a mix of wariness and excitement in her words, one you have heard before.
You turn to face her, "This is something bigger than giving the arcanums a new sister, isn't it?"
"Yes and no," she replies slowly. "I'm not making another person with my memories for a base. I'm making another
me, another body to inhabit that is, to study and read, or go to court and fulfill those duties for that matter. The lore we obtained from Gogossos was the final piece of the puzzle I needed."
"The mage that spoke in more than one voice?" you only half-ask. You had not really anticipated this, though perhaps you should have. Lya has always felt ill at ease studying while others went into danger, and the lore of both flesh and soul are perfect for creating such a duplicate, Teana had even done so already, if in a more limited respect.
"So what do you think?" she asks a little worried.
"I think you are going to make me look lazy," you answer with a dramatic sigh.
Lya's giggle settles into a sly smile. "I'm sure the advantages will more than make up for it."
"Well of course, your time is invaluable..."
"Not quite what I was thinking of. There will be two of me in
private as well as in public, after all," she interrupts.
It takes you a few moments to remember how to speak after that. "How am I supposed to conduct negotiations with that image in my head?" you ask at last.
"I'm sure you'll manage," Lya laughs as she takes your arm for the translocation.
***
Greyshield Keep certainly lives up to its name, a keep of round heavy towers seemingly grown from the grey stone of the cliffs themselves, though the fact that some of the stone is far less weathered than the rest does not escape your eye. The keep has been greatly expanded, by sorcery to judge from the speed. Another ringwall had been added around its base, enough to hold the full population of the thriving town grown at its base, though the harbor that serves it is rather open to the harsh westerlies that blow from the Sunset Sea, something to offer the Lord of Greyshield if common enemies are not enough to secure his cooperation.
"Merchants again?" Lya asks, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile at the effective but undeniably oft used guise.
"No need, we are expected," you reply, already counting the windows for the correct one. Though the newly-forged wards would keep you from simply manifesting inside Danelle or Lord Greyshield's private quarters there is nothing stopping you from flying up, and so of course you do. You pass through a set of large windows set with Myrish glass into a spacious chamber paneled in dark woods and accented in sky blue fabrics where Danelle is already waiting for you, looking rather nervous.
"Your Grace," she bows in greeting. "Before we move on to the purpose of our meeting, could I ask a question that pertains to my young ward? I understand if it might be politically delicate to answer, but..."
"I have no intention of wedding Margaery Tyrell. Not only am I both betrothed and in love," you meet Lya's eyes with a brief smile, "but she is a child. That match exists nowhere save in the daydreams of Mace Tyrell."
"Good," she practically sighs in relief. "She took it upon herself to use a fey pact to perform divinations far into the future to see what might come... as you can imagine a risk neither I nor Lord Brandon looked approvingly upon. I'll be glad to tell her she can stop obsessing over the matter. Now, what is this about?"
"It concerns Lord Greyshield actually..." you go on to explain about the Djinn studies into the nature of Winter and how they might be aided by the addition of a living subject touched by that fel power.
Far from the difficulties you had been anticipated, the Chosen of the Maiden is agreeable and the Lord of Greyshield outright eager for the chance to aid against the Others.
What do you do next?
[] Speak more with Danelle or Brandon
-[] Write in
[] Move on to another minor action
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: Here we are, a painless meeting. This was not good rolls or anything, it's just that none of them have any reason to doubt Viserys' word once given and everyone sane wants to fight the Others.
I am the worst at names.
