[center][h1]Gertrude and Renar[/h1][/center]

Midday meal. After morning training, Renar found himself without his usual luncheon companions, busy as they were with other matters. So instead, he chose a seat in the great hall at random. And by random, he meant the first target he could see that could be needled for entertainment.

[color=ff5000][b]”I see you’re still with our company, Lady Gertrude.”[/b][/color] Renar deliberately took a seat next to the little witchling, piling his plate with today’s roast and vegetables. 

[color=ff5000][b]”And here I was under the impression you wished to rid yourself of your obligation to us as soon as possible. Or did the mess cooks win you over?”[/b][/color] Of course he knew that Gertrude’s situation wasn’t quite so simplistic. But he wouldn’t get any lunch entertainment from the truth, now would he?

Over the past few days, Gertrude had busied herself with sleeping and eating while Gretchen continued gaining mastery of the Candaeln library. This roughly evened out work and relaxation while she benefitted from doing both full-time. Gertrude, currently occupied with the ‘eating’ portion of her lazing, had heaped mounds of meat and sweets upon her plate. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like the dinner of the most spoiled child alive. She was about to dig in when Renar sat down next to her, and her eager expression immediately soured.

How does one eat when sat next to a person-shaped pile of stinking refuse?

“Ah, the scoundrel,” Gertrude sneered, “to what do I owe the displeasure? Are you really so concerned about my state of affairs?”

She pushed her plate away for the moment, and looked the man in the eyes.

“I’m here until I get what I need. You, of all people, should understand. Only [i]you’d[/i] likely use too many bloody words to say as much.”

[color=ff5000][b]”Using an excess of words tends to weed out the simpletons. Which surely wouldn’t be a problem for yourself, I assume.”[/b][/color] Renar said while buttering up a roll, one eye raised at Gertrude’s choice of luncheon. 

[color=ff5000][b]”But of course I understand. Whether or not I care is a different matter.”[/b][/color] He paused to carve up a slice of roast lamb, savoring the herbed meat before continuing on. [color=ff5000][b]”Assume that I’ll humor your being here of your own volition rather than Merilia’s whim.”[/b][/color] He clearly wasn’t. [color=ff5000][b]”What is it that you’re looking for among knights rather than wizards? Aside from Dame Tyaethe’s hand in matrimony. I daresay half the order has seen how you leer at her.”[/b][/color]

Gertrude scowled. The scoundrel was asking questions and making assertions, but wasn’t offering a single thing of his own. She supposed she shouldn’t have expected anything less from a dastard like him. He was obviously trying to get under her skin, but he seemed to be a natural because Gertrude already kind of wanted to smack him.

“I’ll share if you share,” she concluded finally, forcing the usual smug smile upon her lips, “what about you? Are you here for the honor? To help those who can’t help themselves? To uphold the justice of the Goddesses above?”

She decided to simply leave his assertions about her attraction to Tyaethe in the air for the moment. Likely a distraction from the meat of the conversation, or an irritant. Bait.

Not that Renar wouldn’t take her silence on the subject to mean whatever he wanted, anyway.

“My guess is titles and prestige, though that’s a thoroughly boring answer. Still, if the shoe fits.”

There came a point where it was just too easy. Not that it would necessarily stop him from (successfully) irritating Gertrude, but something of a challenge would have been appreciated.

…Oh, who was he kidding? Half the fun was how poorly she reacted to [i]literally everything[/i]. Still, he saw no reason not to indulge her on this. It wasn’t as if his motivations were anything resembling a secret.

[color=ff5000][b]”Well, you’re half correct.”[/b][/color] He allowed, pouring himself a goblet of wine. Was he just putting space between his sentences to annoy Gertrude further? Probably. [color=ff5000][b]”The other half is rubbing my success thoroughly into those who impeded or doubted me. Because what’s life without enjoying a bit of schadenfreude?”[/b][/color]

[color=ff5000][b]”Honestly, if someone resembling me ever states that I’m in this for a reason besides myself, kill them. Or better yet, question them as to why someone’s impersonating myself first, then execute the wretch.”[/b][/color]

Gertrude tapped her fingers on the table as Renar took his sweet time answering. She wasn’t exactly champing at the bit for his story, but a little sodding respect for her time would have been appreciated.

The forced smile Gertrude emanated, in the middle of Renar’s telling, became genuine as Gretchen wrote ‘Renar is a horse’s arse’ in the margins of a history book in the library. A small pleasure of being able to be in two places at once.

Then, when he was done, Gertrude snorted.

“Schadenfreude? Bit petty for a knight, though you’re hardly a storybook example,” Gertrude sneered, “I don’t know who’d ever want to impersonate a bastard like you, but I’m certain I’d [i]relish[/i] the chance to kill them. Don’t suppose I could get that in writing?”

On one hand, Gertrude was pretty sure Renar got a kick out of her insults. On the other, it did feel good to let the venom out. She’d been having too many [i]pleasant[/i] interactions lately.

“But… a deal’s a deal. I suppose you could tally my own reasons up to schadenfreude. To [i]teaching a lesson[/i] to someone who wronged me. My own employment will likely be a [i]longer[/i] commitment, but over the years, I’m certain the Roses will grow more and more accommodating.”

Finally, someone who was willing to play along with some of his worse impulses. Gerard took such things too much in stride, and Fionn enjoyed his lectures. At least this one could play the game when it came to venom and spite.

[color=ff5000][b]”Well, I certainly can’t fault that.”[/b][/color] Renar shrugged, entirely truthful for once. He’d be a hypocrite if he opposed such a motivation, after all. Just for that, he supposed he’d give her something more concrete. [color=ff5000][b]”I doubt you’d had any reason to look into my lineage, but I’m not merely a metaphorical bastard. It’s all very literal.”[/b][/color] A wry smirk. 

[color=ff5000][b]”I’m told that my [i]honored lord father[/i]’s face when he was told that his by-blow that he gave virtually no care to or for became the most prestigious knight of all his sons was something to behold. Would that I could have been there to revel in it. Really, who else would I have been referring to about schadenfreude?”[/b][/color]

“You’re right,” Gertrude said, smirking, “I didn’t know a thing about your lineage, every other subject in the library is far more interesting.”

Gertrude, finding her appetite return somewhat, popped a tart into her mouth. She did not eat as if she had learned one whit about manners or etiquette.

“Not that you could even [i]find[/i] me in a bloody book. Yet.”

Gertrude sighed. She hated that she was finding common ground with this snake. She was willing to bet that if hating your dad was a game, she’d have everyone else in Candaeln beat. Still, his commitment was admirable.

“Anyways, what’s the point if you can’t see the wretched bastard’s face? Next time you have something to humiliate him with, you need to deliver the news yourself,” Gertrude explained as if she would be the one doing it, “drink the codger’s horror like a fine wine.”

[color=ff5000][b]”Now you’re speaking my language. Certainly more preferable to the seething threats and self-aggrandizement.”[/b][/color] Renar chortled, taking a bite of his lamb. Exquisite. His compliments to the chef, once more. Though something about Gertrude’s words had him thinking. 

[color=ff5000][b]”I take it this person who wronged you has longer than a mortal human’s lifespan? Considering how long-lived Witches are and how long you state the time of your indenture ought to be, am I to presume your target to be a fellow of yours?”[/b][/color]

It wasn’t as if Gertrude couldn’t see how Renar got from Point A to Point B. Had it been her, she’d probably have made the same connections, though she didn’t know that she’d have ferreted the pertinent information out quite so quickly. Her cheeks became slightly red, and her expression emulated that of a child who had gotten caught sneaking sweets before supper.

She knew that her emotions tended to betray her, and that she was as bad a liar as a secret-keeper. She spoke bluntly and candidly, and didn’t think too much about what she left in between the lines.

Obviously, Renar did.

“Well! My self-aggrandizement is entirely warranted, I assure you,” she coughed, “anyways… if it were anything less than a Witch, I wouldn’t need help, would I? Don’t go spreading it around, though, or I’ll give your father something to bloody celebrate.”

She crossed her arms and looked away.

“...But you can see why such an endeavor is a long-term project.”

How troublesome. Renar resisted the urge to make a face, instead schooling his expression while taking a sip from his goblet of wine. With any luck, this wouldn’t be an issue during the…oh, thirty-some years he had as an active knight, at best. Though with how things were going over the course of the last few months, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was forced to be involved at some point.

[color=ff5000][b]”I’ve no reason to gossip about your situation.”[/b][/color] Renar shrugged. Well, not yet, anyway. He tucked away the little note of Gertrude’s embarrassment over the situation in the back of his mind, labeled under Blackmail Material. Nothing major for something like this, of course. Perhaps if he simply wanted to annoy her at some point in the future…

[color=ff5000][b]”In any case, I genuinely wish you good fortune with your endeavours. Far be it for me to gainsay a revenge plot in the making. Make it worth the Rose’s time to aid you, and I may even be ordered to lend my blade when the time comes. Assuming that I’m both still a member and not decrepit by then, of course.”[/b][/color]


Gertrude could already tell that Renar was [i]definitely[/i] going to hold this over her head at some point. It was the nature of a scoundrel, after all. She doubted, however, that it would go un-telegraphed given the man’s penchant for schadenfreude. In a way, it was a small relief.

“Oh? I don’t suppose you’re [i]looking forward[/i] to lending your blade to my revenge, are you?” Gertrude chided, “well, I doubt it will happen any time soon. Mobilizing the entire order against a being of nigh-unmatched power based on a personal vendetta? I’m not bloody [i]delusional[/i]. I’ll need to be a fixture of at [i]least[/i] Tyaethe’s level before I have [i]that[/i] sort of influence. Well, unless she becomes an issue for the order.”

Even just saying that, Gertrude felt some small ache in her chest. She pushed it away.

“Well. Until then, I’m at the disposal of the Iron Roses. I suppose I wouldn’t [i]hate[/i] having my talents misused in order to help piss off someone’s shite father, though.”

While the thought of meeting her own father again still made her sick, Gertrude considered that perhaps messing with someone [i]else’s[/i] father would offer some catharsis. She’d probably never find a fondness for Renar, but revenge? That was something she could cosign.

[color=ff5000][b]”I only look forward to anything I can extract personal gain from. So, no.”[/b][/color] Renar shot back. 

[color=ff5000][b]”This said, should someone in question help a certain personage enrage a given ‘shite father’ before his inevitable, unnatural demise, he may feel somewhat obligated to offer recompense. Provided, of course, that he’s still of able mind and body by that time. So do try not to take too long, lest you want to work on entrapping multiple people within the order to your aid once more. Imagine having to go through all of this [i]again[/i] within…oh, I’ll give it fifty years. Not before this current generation retires or perishes, of course.”[/b][/color] His grin meant little in the way of compliments.

[color=ff5000][b]”But before you could convince anyone else to aid you.”[/b][/color]

Gertrude grinned at Renar’s jabs. In this moment, they were playing very different games. Or perhaps it was the [i]same[/i] game, only they were on the same side. It wasn’t impossible, after all. It had happened with their Rozenalt conspiracy, so why shouldn’t their interests and sensibilities align again?

The fact that they [i]did[/i] align made Gertrude feel a little gross, but she was still pleased with how Rozenalt turned out. Pleased enough to join in another endeavor.

“Say less. This… I do [i]happily[/i]. Merely give me a part when you have one to spare, and I shall act it out.”

Gertrude likely would have done this for free, but she figured she might as well accept some favor from one of the more lauded knights as recompense. She didn’t like the scoundrel, but he had connections, and he wasn’t wrong that he could make Gertrude’s future [i]easier[/i].

“This vengeance belongs to [i]you[/i], after all. If a plan of yours requires magical assistance, my expertise is yours to borrow. I may not like you, but we may be able to [i]help[/i] each other.”

[color=ff5000][b]”Oh, worry not. Hardly anyone likes [i]you[/i], so we’re in similar straits here.”[/b][/color] A chuckle. And so midday meal went on.