When Molly comes a'knockin

[BrokenDreamer]

Molly --dear Molly, had allowed her name to be dragged through the mud quite enough. While the tounges of bored housewives waggled and their whipped husbands obeyed, she kept still. Now with the town such a stir over an insult that started over a cup to the point it boiled with violence, it was high time that a bit of help was seeked out. Well, beyond the help of the fondly thought of cook and that of a well-intended, very protective one-armed man.

She had asked about of those that would still exchange word with her and all had given her the same name. Helstone. So be it then! A learned man? A lawyer, how much better could it be?!

To the Baker's then -eyed like a villan within the building for there were no eggs to be hand for them thanks to Molly O'Neill! Finally the way to this named man would be pryed and she would make a careful path for the stairs that led to the man's apartment.

She had made cares to make some proper sight of herself -wild curls of autumn delight forced into the tame nature of braids coiled neat at the nap. The most modest of the summer dresses that Kish had loaned was worn -airy enough for the dreadful heat but with longer sleeves and high throat. A lighter blue that the summer gaze that stared at the wooden door.

A deep breath ..and a rapping of knuckles right smart to demand attention towards her plight. Sure, there were wrongs on both sides of this tale but she? She was the lesser of two evils and whom this was all blamed upon.

[channe]

Molly is in luck: for the barrister's office is in use today, and it's occupant -- the man that appears when the door is opened -- is nothing less than flawless.

Nay, not flawless -- for there are a two or three hairs disturbed on that otherwise perfectly-combed head, and one shoelace lays crooked on a spit-shined boot. Behind him, light from the front window spills into a room bedecked with luxury: an intricate, hand-woven carpet, a carved desk, and books -- books! Quite a few of them, as well. The man Molly sees is dressed in black and red, and is looking at her curiously.

"Good afternoon, madam," says Coriolanus Helstone in a friendly tone. His words are laced with warmth. "May I help you?"

[BrokenDreamer]

The woman's eyes would blink in a near owlish nature, as if she had half expected the door to remained sealed against her as half the town already was. It was quite the sight to greet her -a fine cut of man well dressed though her gaze was more proned to travel over the room's contents beyond.

He spoke and she was snapping back to attention -speak of his name revealing the man as the one she was seeking out.

With a breath the woman's mouth would open, releasing the flow of words peppered with the thick of her accent. "Ah.. yer tha' Helstone tha' all the ol'biddies be speakin' of." A smile frisked quickly to rest upon the curve of her mouth -expression as bright as the sun that did shine cruel now, though her's was in a more gentle nature.

"Ah'm Molly O'Neill an' ah be comin' ta ye fer help." The name should explain it all, if reputation has beaten her here. Enough days have passed that likely few have not heard of this infamous Molly, the fiery maid that has brought the anger of half the farming population down upon her own head.

[channe]

When Cory plays chess, he never makes a move without analysis fit for a campaign general -- every move mapped out to provide himself with the best advantage, plans for every contingency, the whole story obtained before pushing any of his pieces to a new spot.

He lives his life in much the same manner.

Which is why Molly may actually be staring at the last man in Myrkentown who has not yet voiced an opinion on the subject of her transgressions or lack thereof.

"Ah, madam Molly of the sacred cup," he observes, a smile spreading across his fairly-handsome features. And that's when he steps aside and ushers her inside with a sweep of his hand -- of course, towards a particularly plush red velvet chair in front of his desk meant for this sort of thing. Talking. In a parlor. About business. "Come in, come in -- we'll see what kind of help I might be able to offer you. Would you like some tea? Derry-whiskey?"

He walks to a side-cabinet. "I hope the ladies speak well of me," he chuckles.

[BrokenDreamer]

Molly of the sacred cup indeed! Eyes would give a delightful roll at the title bestowed upon her. "Aye, tha' one an tha same." She had steadied herself, ready for the man to simply turn her way with a scoff .. only to be gestured in?

Relief! It was as plain upon her features as the freckles and sunburnt flesh from this accursed heat.

She was stepping in -worn slippers pat-pat-patting upon the floor, trying her best to settle daintily upon that plush chair. Wonders and comforts! The offer of a drink as well? "Oh! .. er.. tea, if'n it's nah a bother ta ye."

Skirts were fussed and arranged, as if she were like any other modest woman and not this fiery tempest that others had proclaimed her to be. She seemed pleasant enough -ready smile that could charm the legs off a mule.

"Yes'm .. they do be speakin' well of ye, Mister Helstone, tis why ah 'ere ta be coming 'ere in hopes of nah being turned away like ever'ah one else in this place 'as been." Save the staff of the tavern -they each as protective as she over their livelihood. "Ah 'ere 'oping ye be hearing me out and given some council in 'ow ta handle all this without m'getting hauled off ta the gaol."

[channe]

Everything about the man is measured: from the well-tailored clothes to the moderate way he walks over to a dark-wood door set into the back wall and the words he speaks into the nebulous area beyond.

"Anne, if you would prepare two cups of tea for myself and my guest, I would appreciate it very much. Thank you," he says, allowing the door to click shut on the assent of a woman beyond, turning neatly on his heels to walk back to the desk. He'll take a seat behind that desk, fold his hands on the wood, and stare pointedly at Molly. There's no once-over, no lasciviousness about the way he looks at her: just plain business horse-sense and the edges and beginnings of cunning around those bright eyes of his.

"First of all, madam." His use of this particular term for the young woman is notable: he obviously knows she has been married. "There are limits to the things the law can do; it cannot, for example, protect you from physical harm, if the perpetrator is intent and you do not have protection. However, I am not sure the situation has quite come to that, yet." He pauses, and settles back in his own plush chair. "That gives us quite a bit of space to work with; as does the fact that the Order of Straka has already begun an investigation into this matter."

Another pause. The wheels are turning; the chess-pieces are moving.

"I'll need to hear the story again -- from your own perspective, as you will. Leave nothing out; I cannot help you if you are not completely honest with me."

At this point, Anne -- a house-servant, obviously, dressed in blues and a white bonnet -- enters with two china-cups of steaming tea on a gorgeous silver tray. She'll offer one to Molly, along with tea-biscuits.

[BrokenDreamer]

The woman's neck was twisting --craning to keep the bright of a blue gaze focused upon the man as he moved about the apparent office. Her head was set to bobbing every so often, listening to his words with quite a bit of care. "Oh, ah'm well aware tha' Straka'll nah be sittin' outside me door but tha's just fine with m'self. Ah've got Mikhail so way ah'm thinkin, would be best to worry 'bout the poor soul tha'll come fer me with 'im 'round." A lot of stock was placed right there in the one armed-drunkard that had taken it upon himself to give aid at the tavern.

The tea was taken carefully from the other woman's hand, smiling returning in a flash of brillance for her with a pleasant, "Thank'e kindly." Allowing the hot drink to cool first before daring a sip, biscuits set aside as well as her mouth would open to pour forth her tale. He had asked for it and so shall he recieve!

"Ah were workin' tha kitchen tha' morning, wha with us short on staff still because o'the flux.." He did ask for all the details. "An ah was comin' out ta see to see to tha' main room an 'ere b'this monk sprinklin' water all bout the bar!" There was a pause here in the telling, making sure that the man was 'hanging' upon her every word.

"Now ..tha stuff been there ah bit, aye but this be the first I see tha one behind it all. So .. ah says ta him, this be ah place o'business and nah a church. Folks come ta' drink an' eat at tha bar an' it were taking up space tha could be used fer them. It's also private property." That last part she was more than happy to point out. "As'n ah'm seein it, he's no right ta say wha goes there and wha does not." In self agreement her head would nod at this, a moment stolen to dare a nibble of the biscuit. Her lunch break was being skipped just for this, after all.

"So, says ah to this monk --ye need ta move tha lot o'it fer those very reasons." Another pause for breath, the woman having a mouth when it was needed and apparently no shortage of those broken words. "He'd dun tell me no ..so ah's asked him again, an' still he's sayin' no. All this time tha' captain with tha' flyin' boat she's lookin' on. There were another too, bu' ah nah recalling ah face. We git a lot'folk that come an go through there." Ooo.. a witness to the deed!

"Ah told tha' monk, if'n he didnah move the items himself .. ah'll be removin' them for 'im. Tha's when he made 'is threat." To her it was and as this was her story... "He were sayin' tha if ah did tha, he'll be runnin to tell folks of it an' they be cuttin' their business from tha' tavern." This is where that smile of her's would turn to a frown for Ms. O'Neill was never one to take a threat well.

"Now ..ah'll admit tha' sometimes m'temper gets tha' best o'me and this time it did ..bu' he had gone an threaten tha place ah works for ..so ah takes the stuff and toss it out!" A breath was drawn here, slowly, to steady the woman who had nearly angered herself again with this telling -sip of tea used to calm the nerves.

"There were burnin' candles which were a hazard o'fire on tha' wooden bar ..and a kidney stone tha' someone done pissed out sittin' there were folk eat! .. course, ah did break ah'few cups bu' a right nice man dun fix 'em up and ye can't tell they ever were broke. Kilborn, tha' Straka fella, he's got 'em now long with the rest o' the stuff. The monk dun just left it there so .. ah .. later wen' and packed it up fer safe keepin's. Ye know ...feelin' bad 'bout it after me temper 'ad time ta cool."

Goodness she was wordy! "As'n ah'm seein it.. they're draggin' me name through mud now when all ah'did were break a cup o' two ..an those cluckin' farmers an' there wives are threatenin' a town o'starvin' in ah time like this!" In the humble opinion of Molly, she was the lesser of two evils. "Yet ..ah'm tha one bein' blamed fer it all .. Straka's meanin' ta force a public apology from m'now just ta please them ..bu' ah'm thinkin those farmers an monk, they be needin' ta apologize to me."

There was a huff ..and finally, silence. Blessed silence as her tounge would still of words, busy with the nibbling of a biscuit.

[channe]

Cory listens carefully to the entire story, his back cradled in the curve of the chair and his fingers templed, elbows resting on the well-polished desk. His mouth is a serious line and his eyes engaged -- they never do leave Molly as she speaks, even as he lifts the delicate cup to his mouth to sip the tea slightly. Occasionally, he'll nod in understanding.

When Molly's story is over, he leans forward, resting his lower arms on the desk.

"You are a paid employee of the Broken Dagger tavern, and thus bound by rules governing private property and trespassing. This would be easier, I admit, were the tavern governed at the moment by a single body: however, as I understand it, the ownership is held in abeyance by the Myrken Wood judiciary in the owner's absence." He'll pause to take another sip of tea -- perhaps to clear his throat -- and continue. "You cannot be sent to gaol for acting in the best interest of your paying patrons, so I do not believe you have anything to fear in that matter. The law becomes a little greyer when it comes to your actions regarding the destruction and possible theft of others' property." He pauses. "I do believe that Brother Cythwyllyfer may actually fall under some laws governing trespassing on private property."

He'll get up, here, and begin to pace around the lush rug underneath them.

"Whose were the cups? Who belonged to the kidney stone?" Here, he grimaces; obviously, he finds this as disgusting as she does. "And--" a pointed look at Molly, here -- "under what circumstances would you be prepared to make an apology for your temper?"

[BrokenDreamer]

Apologize? She? It was not quite the solution she was hoping to find but if there could be a meeting ground where she was not made to be the villian in full ..then maybe there was room to talk.

"Aye .. trespassin' an defacin' property with doin' up tha bar like it 'ere some shrine." She would nod rather firmly at the point brought up. See? She was not the only one in the wrong and yet she was the one that they all seemed fit to see punished for the deed!

"Ah dun right know o'all tha things b'longing to ..but they b'all in tha hands o' tha Straka officer ah been tellin ye about b'fore." Till now she had been perched upon the edge of that stuffed chair, now she was sitting back a little further with a pondering look. "Tha' only name ah 'ave is tha Bates woman, Mary.. she's tha one tha'be draggin m'name through the mud all fer the sake o'ah cup she gave away!"

Her terms? "Ah rathah not be apologizin' ah all fer doin' me job an wha's right fer the tavern ..but if'n there's nah a way out of it, it'll be on tha' terms tha ah be apologized to as well. It were m'name tha' be spoiled fer all this ..and tha ruckus at the tavern with Straka comin' ta question tha employees durin business 'ours. ...as ah'm thinking, they be owein tha whole town ah big sorry fer the cutting o'supplies in ah time like this! ..bein' with tha' drought an all going on."

It would not make her the happiest ..but it was something she could settle on. If she had to eat crow, so should the rest of them! She was firm on those words, her features speaking volumes of it with the tight set of her jaw to the furrow of her brow.

[channe]

Helstone kept on pacing -- slowly, calmly, with his hand at his chin and his feet making hardly a noise against the carpet.

"This was going to happen at some point in the future, madam. You just happened to be the catalyst that struck flint to wood. It is not an enviable position -- but do know that it could have been some other unfortunate barmaid sitting here today, had you been sick, for example."

He pauses, and looks down at her.

"Knowing this -- would you take an apology from Mary Bates, madam O'Neill, after the vitroil she has poured at you? After the way the Pritchites have spat at you in the street and cursed your name? Would their apology be enough for you?"

[BrokenDreamer]

"Sir.." the woman would begin slowly, blue eyes dogging after the man and his pacing steps. "Ah'm a simple person ..an' they be simple folk too. All ah'm wantin' is ta set things right withou m'self lookin' like tha scoundral in all o'this."

The tea that she had only taken a couple of sips of was set aside, cup and saucer abandoned upon the man's fine desk. "Ta ask anymore o'them will likely jus' keep tha whole of this goin'. Ah jus' wanna clean name an'ah apology ..an' then they'll be gettin' the same." A nodding bob of her head was given, the woman settling back into the chair again with hands folded upon her lap.

"Well ..tha' an tha' they come tradin' their goods with tha' town again. They need nah worry 'bout tha' tavern cause we've been able to fend jus' fine withou them. But tha town? Tha'll be more on tha 'eads of those farmers when folks start droppin' of hunger 'ere thanks to tha drought an'all." For what was available within the city, prices were sure to rocket past what most could afford. She may have broken a cup and wounded the pride of a few people but at least she was not sending out a death sentence in a time of trouble.

She may be a simple woman ..she may have a temper at times, but it would seem that this Molly O'Neill was equipt with a rather good head upon her shoulders.

[channe]

Cory will nod at this, and say no more for a moment; he'll walk over to the wide window that looks over a busy street choked with afternoon traffic. His eyes follow someone elbowing through the crowd before he turns smartly and walks back to his desk, completely businesslike.

"Madam O'Neill, you came here today to speak to me about your legal options. I cannot see an instance wherein you would be carted off to gaol; and even if you were, property law would free you. You have protection from both the Order of Straka and your friends at the tavern, although I would advise you to be as careful as possible while traveling alone. There has been no real crime here; Brother Cythwyllyfer may file for theft, but as Straka is keeping the offerings as evidence and he seems to have left them willingly at the tavern, his case has very little merit. I do not think you should be concerned."

He'll sit, then, and bring his hands together.

"As for what I can offer you: I can bring a suit against the Brother, although I would caution you that the problem would, most likely, be exacerbated if we did that even though you probably would win. A better option is mediation, with representatives from both sides meeting and discussing the matter like civilized people." There's a smirk at that.

"If this were to happen, the best option would be a draw -- damage control, if you like, is the best thing anyone can offer right now. The situation has gone entirely too far. You would apologize, and they would apologize, and the results would be legally binding. Both of you would make concessions. I cannot *make* the Bateses and their allies take part, but I usually find that the process has had many positive outcomes and that people do take part more often than not."

He'll take another breath, and a sip of his cooling tea.

"Unfortunately, as for your reputation, madam, there is little I can do. Do *you* have any questions?"

He awaits her response.

[BrokenDreamer]

For the woman, the trip to town had been well worth it for that one particular set of words that the man had uttered: 'There has been no real crime here.' It was a fresh breath of air and despite what else he said, relief flooded across those freckled features.

Bring a suit against the brother? Molly would give a slow shake of her head at that thought, "Nay, ah'm nah wantin' ta drag this out any further much as ah would git some satisfaction out'ah 'im squirmin' beneath charges." No, she agreed with his more preferred solution but there was just one catch: "If'n they are as up in arms as tha' rumors be'saying .. Ah've ah feelin' tha they may nah be wantin' ta meet in tha middle. Bu' .. 'ere's ta hopin'."

"As fer m'reputation ..tha 'arm done is done. Tounges will always be wagglin'bout someone, ah just 'appen ta be the new chicken in tha coop so there all cluckin' an peckin' to establish an'order." It was the best way that she has found yet to describe the established pyramid among the female rankings in places such as this. "Though .. ah'm nah about ta just let'm squish me. Ah'm like ah weed an' ah ain't goin' no where."

[channe]

Helstone nods, considering, templing his fingers once more and leaning forward onto the desk. The upstairs room is growing hot in the afternoon sun, and he'll daub every so often at his forehead with a pressed white linen handkerchief.

"I agree -- the situation is kindling. Perhaps we shall wait until things cool off; if there is violence, mediation will do nothing. I shall look into it, nonetheless." He'll pause, and utter a casual laugh. "And, I must confess: I studied law for years, yet women and their penchant for gossip -- I will never truly understand it." There's a bit of a playful look in his eyes -- the kind he had when he was pronouncing her new title. "But I do believe you'll be able to handle it, Miss O'Neill."

[BrokenDreamer]

The woman would flash a smile Helstone's way -an expression stirred on by his words. "Ah've nevah been one ta understand it m'self an ah'm sure most women do nah either," she would laugh, freckled nose wrinkling with the effort of it. "As ah see it, if'n ye try to 'ard ta understand yer 'ead may explode." At least she can find good humor in the sterotype of her gender.

"Ah would verah much appreciate all tha'elp ah kin git in this matter.. all this fuss has gone an' distracted work ah tha tavern an'ah would like things ta return to normal."

She was standing afterwards, guessing that all that needed saying had been said. Whisking hands would brush wrinkles from her skirts, "Ah should be returnin' less ye 'ave any other questions fer me, seeing how ah'm 'ere on m'lunch break." A pause, "If ye need me, ah kin always be found ah tha tavern ..an ah'll be keepin in touch should anythin' else come up."