[Day 1 - during Bread & Salt] Of Boots and Wolves (open)

After the group moves past Lord Tyrell, Septon Abelar strides over to offer his regards.

"Lord Cordwayner, Lord Starkwood." The septon clasps each of their hands in turn, then greeting their wives the same way. His demeanor is almost warm, although he does not smile. His face is clean and washed, but those close to him can detect a bit of dust in his swept-back hair, dulling the silver streaks that run through his black hair. "The holy union of husband to wife is always cause for rejoice. May the Seven bless this betrothal. You must have Septon Forrest write me regarding the ceremony--I find great satisfaction in sacrament and ritual done well." While his words do not betray any motive, the septon's tone leaves the faint impression that he considers Septon Forrest to be inadequate to the task. Abelar traces the sign of the seven pointed star on his chest, before folding his hands behind him and turning to Ser Quentin and Lady Ashara. "Ser Quentin. I will pray that the Warrior lend strength to your arm to protect your wife. There is no higher duty."

He turns to Ashara next, his dark eyes meeting her gaze. "Lady Ashara. You should light a candle tonight in honor of the Maiden, for preserving your innocence until marriage and for granting you the courage to bind yourself to Ser Quentin in holy matrimony. It is no small thing to betroth yourself forever in sight of Gods and men." His words are well-chosen to be polite, but they also evoke chastity and ladylike virtue--qualities that young, assertive women of Dornish descent have had difficulty claiming in the eyes of society. Indeed, Septon Abelar is well-known for denouncing 'southron lechery,' or even 'Dornish harlots,' in his public sermons. One wonders whether his judgment of Dornish culture extends to a half-Dornish woman of a Reach house. "Now tell me, which wedding-day benediction do you fancy for yourself?"

The septon's eyes flicker between those present, perhaps taking note of the tension between Lord and Lady Cordwayner.

---

Abelar tries to read the tension in the interaction and figure out who's comfortable with the betrothal and who isn't.

Awareness (Empathy) re: Ashara's betrothal: 6d6k4 17

OOC: This last part is Septon Abelar attempting to test Ashara's knowledge of religious custom--if she knows the various benedictions well enough to have a preference, Abelar will be mildly impressed. It's well-known that the Blackbriars are skeptical of the sincerity of House Starkwood's devotion to the Seven. If Ashara has any awareness about her, she will see this for what it is--a test of sorts, if she's willing to play along. For your own research purposes, I don't know of any particular marriage benedictions, so you can just make them up if you choose to answer. Perhaps this would require a knowledge check? But I am not the GM.

"A fine choice. Too many, I'm afraid, seem to live by a more airy phrase. I'm sure you've heard it." He waves a hand dismissively.

---

OOC: I'm fine having Abelar bid his goodbyes and move away at this point, to allow others to come and congratulate Ashara without the dour presence of the septon. However, if Ashara wants to keep going or others want to interact with both of us, Abelar can stick around.

Glancing to the other lords and ladies present, who are engaged in their own conversation, Septon Abelar pivots himself to afford a measure of privacy to Lady Ashara and himself. What he had to say next requires a measure of tact. He rubs his chin before speaking.

"My child, I could not help but notice--your nerves are written across your face. This marriage was not your choice was it?" A wise arrangement. Allowing the betrothed to look upon one another before the marriage is a recipe for lust. Still, she deserves to know what I know, and it may be related to the betrothal. . .  

He lowers his voice. "I'm afraid that earlier today, I heard a vicious slander of your person. Rest assured, I know it to be false. At confession, several men claimed that half the knights in your father's service have, well, found you serviceable as well." The septon is clearly uncomfortable speaking of this subject. With his reputation for fiery zeal, his discomfort reveals the truth in his words. If he believed the rumor, he would have more poise than he is showing now. His eyes would be piercing Ashara's soul, instead of bouncing between the floor and the faraway reaches of the room.

The septon inclines his head slightly to acknowledge Ashara's respect for the privacy of confession. "Indeed, my vows are a steely as your words. For this sort of confession, I am not permitted to offer a name. You may rest easy knowing that if any man confessed a licentious desire for you, the Gods would require a heavy repentance." Abelar does not seem like the kind of man who would let someone off easily for lusting after a highborn lady.

"As for your husband, I know him as well as you do. House Cordwayner is an ancient, proud house. Ser Roland is a true knight, worthy of that history. I'm sure Quentin is as well." It is no mistake that the dark-eyed septon chooses Ser Roland, a second son, instead of Lord Ilyn, as the exemplar of chivalry and honor. 

---

OOC: For those of you keeping score at home, don't assume Abelar will never repeat someone's name from confession. I'm trying to leave the door open to outing someone's confession if the circumstances were more dire--a confession related to a future act, perhaps, or confessing to a murder. I'm not sure exactly how the priest-penitent privilege works in Westeros, but Abelar isn't going to ditch it over someone repeating a rumor in confession. At the same time, it's clear from the books that some confessions can be publicized with no issue--think of Cersei's forced confessions.

Abelar's rigid face collapses into a concerned, sorrowful look as Ashara's composure wavers. "Please, Lady Starkwood, do not fear. I will see to it that this defamation spreads no further." True maidens are few enough in number without having to endure the jeers of harlotry.

If Ashara expected more reassurance than that, she is left wanting. Abelar is tender like a sword--he bends just enough to avoid shattering, but snaps back rigidly when the moment passes.

"If I may, my Lady . . . I must admit that your house has distinguished itself in fields other than piety. There have long been remarks. Talk. Ancient history turned rumor, as I see it. But the best way to put this talk to rest--about you as well as your house--is to hold to account those who have strayed from the path of the Seven. I would be willing to assist in bringing them back to the path of the light. Repentance is a specialty of mine." His face has returned to its familiar dour composure, and his eyes are darkly alive with the prospect of pursuing a sinner.




OOC: This bit about the Starkwood reputation is meant to be based on House Starkwood's description from the Setting Information, rather than on a particular rumor that Abelar has uncovered.

Understanding that the time has come to move on, Abelar pays his respects to the others around Ashara and walks away to another conversation.


/exit Septon Abelar

Many of a noblewomen's facial expressions are empty practiced courtesies. Others express wordless emotion. Some however, practically shout a phrase. The expression that Ashara gives Lysette is of that rare kind, expressing in a rather unladylike way the phrase "Oh thank the gods!"

She takes the glass, a slender flute of some sort of white, and drains it in one gulp. Then, realizing the multiple breaches of propriety, blushes.

"Thank you so very much, and please forgive my, er,..." She looks at the empty glass before abandoning her prior sentence. "Septon Abelar is surprisingly nice, considering his reputation, but I was so very on edge afraid of saying something wrong and provoking a loud and shaming lecture in front of all of Highgarden."

Ashara puts the empty glass on the tray of a passing servant, then turns back to the beautiful blonde woman. She takes a deep breath to center herself and restore her composure.

"Please, allow me to begin again. Thank you, Lady Lysette, for the wine. Would you care to step outside for some fresh air? I suddenly find myself feeling a bit flushed."