A Visit Over Tea

Log Info

• Title: A Visit Over Tea

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Patch, Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's home

• Summary:

Lúpecyll-Atlon home, late morning.

"Grandfather, can you pass me the tea?"

"Certainly, dear child."

There's the clinking of teacups in the living room of the Lúpecyll-Atlon home. Cor'lana sips a lavender-mint tea from a small teacup, wearing a comfortable cotton dress that is suitable for the late summer day. However, the gentleman that sits across from her in the large rocking chair is tall and... primal, halfway between an elf and something more. His long dark hair flows down to his open-chest robe and mantle of feathers that shift subtly from black to gold in color the further they go down, terminating at the wrists to his large and monstrous black talons...

Which gently, daintily, hold a small teacup. The gentleman's violet eyes, a perfect match to Cor'lana's eyes, twinkle as he pulls the cup away from his mouth. "An excellent blend, if I do say so myself," he says in a silken and dark tone, like the tolling of bells.

Cor'lana snickers as she lifts the teacup close to her own mouth. "That's somewhat self-congratulatory, isn't it, Grandfather?" she asks. "I'd accuse you of narcissism, but I know better."

The days have been long since Patch last graced the Lúpecyll-Atlon home, her elven eyes looking somehow more tired than before. It's beyond a single sleepless night, but the bard has a smile on her features regardless. Her innate immunity to sleep doesn't mean she has no need, but it does help dull the effects when she has to be long in the field. Strolling up towards Cor'lana's home, Patch pauses at the gate and takes a breath to steady herself. A hand rises to run through her hair and brushes stray strands away from her eyes. She is absent her normal coat, a simple blouse that is cream in color worn with a dark earth-tone pair of pants. It's nothing flashy, which is unusual for the bard. In the coat's place is a cloak of dark maroon, its hood drawn back away from her features.

Her free hand rests on, and opens the gate, crossing into the home's boundary. Her instrument case occupies one of her hands, and soon both as the gate is closed, and she strolls towards the house proper. Once near their doorstep, she lightly raps upon the door. There is no words, just a Dawn Elf on a doorstep lightly swaying her instrument case in hand as she waits.

Cor'lana perks at the sound of the door tapping. "I'll get that," she informs Grandfather, already rising from her chair to prevent him from getting a word in.

Grandfather's pale face--in fact, so pale that it has a gray hue--twists into a frown as she does so, the slight wrinkles on his face looking a little more at home with the expression. "If it's that Zalgiman fellow you told me about, you'd better let me handle the mess," he informs her. "It wouldn't do to have my precious child handle the corpse."

"I hardly think he'd be that foolish to show up at my home, but I've been wrong before," Cor'lana murmurs as she opens the door--and is visibly relieved to see it's Patch on the other side. "Good morning, sister! How are you?"

As Patch waited there on the doorstep her ears twitched to the words she heard somewhat muffled through the door. As the portal swings open and Cor'lana answers, Patch flashes a large smile, stepping in quickly to give the half-blooded woman a firm hug. Being careful of the instrument of course! "I am well, Sis. Busier than I'd like, but I thought maybe we could have tea." she admits, ending the embrace, and taking a step back to regard Cor'lana once more. "Sorry to intrude. I... it's only been a couple days, but it feels as if years have passed." Patch's tone warm, but her smile isn't quite right.

"Am I intruding? I can come back another time, but I was..." A smaller, more sincere smile as Patch can't help but laugh a moment at herself. "I was just close, and wanted to check in."

Cor'lana pats Patch on the back mid-embrace--or as close as she can manage while caring for the safety of Patch's beloved instrument. Rather than being terribly confused, the half-sil giggles softly, smiling from pointed ear to pointed ear. "No intrusion," she says. "And it's okay. I understand. The perception of time can be... odd."

She looks over her shoulder back into the house for a moment, before she looks back at Patch. "I certainly don't mind at all. I do have Grandfather over, however," Cor'lana says, her voice dropping to be softer. "If you'd like to meet him, he's... like I said before, a very lonely soul, and he has his oddities, but he's kind to mortals. I just want to make sure you're comfortable before you come in."

Patch, however, is not being given a choice. Pothy sails over to the front door and lands on Cor'lana's shoulder, coming over from the kitchen (where he was presumably feasting on snacks). "Good morning," he says cheerfully in his true voice. Apparently Patch is close enough to the ward on the house to understand him. "Please come in and share snacks with me, Patch?" His tail wags up and down in anticipation, those blue eyes of his doing a very good job of begging.

"Oh, I'd love to visit Pothy. How can I turn down such a polite request?" Patch muses to the white raven, her smile growing broader as she crosses into the doorway. "So let's have a nibble, and meet your family."

To Cor'lana, Patch bobs her head in nod to her friend's warning in words. "You've been more than clear, Hon. These things don't make me uncomfortable. Nor does your family and history with them." Patch offers, looking over her friend a moment, and raising a free hand to stroke at Pothy's chin briefly. Well under-beak. "I understand lonely, and the kind of hurt it brings. I can't imagine how that translates to the fey, but what kind of friend would I be if I were to just ignore it in others? Not much of one at all." her words low, and meant to not carry too far. Though with fey it's hard to gauge their strength of hearing, and their perception of those around them. A lesson hard learned by the bard once already.

"My news and gossip is... academic in nature, but the implications of some recent discoveries are not so good. I needed my sister's ear, but it can wait until your visit has ended. It's an issue that takes no such urgency or rush." Patch admits of her own reasons for stopping in. "So, how about introducing me? I'd like to meet him."

Cor'lana looks reassured by Patch's words, and she smiles brightly again as the bard steps inside. With a flick of her hand, the front door closes and locks behind them. "Perhaps we can all discuss it," she says a little more loudly. "Grandfather, after all, knows some things, although only from the perspective of... 'former' fey nobility."

She steps into the living room as Grandfather chuckles. The primal man does not stand as they enter, but he does place his teacup--which is so very small in his hand--back down onto the coffee table, and he smiles at Patch. "Hello, friend of my dear child," he intones politely.

"Grandfather, this is my friend," Cor'lana introduces. "You can call her Patch. Patch, this is my ancestor--and you can call him Grandfather, too."

There's a twinkle in Grandfather's violet eyes. "Much better to be addressed with a title of respect that is universal rather than the one that makes my feathers crawl," he replies. "Help yourself to some tea. There are lemon-lavender cookies baking in the oven that I'll be retrieving shortly."

"You're greetings are well received, Grandfather." Patch says with a dip of her head, crossing towards one of the empty chairs, and placing her instrument next to it. She turns, offering a more formal half-bow once her things have been properly stowed. "Thank you for the offer of kindness, and treat." a brief moment taken to take in the air, nose seeking scent of those described things. It's not long until her dull glance of emerald finally meets and is allowed to linger upon her friend's ancestor. Whatever she sees, it seems to be met with a warm smile, one that near reaches the mark upon her cheek.

Soon after, Patch is making herself a cup of tea as once it was offered she's decided she'd partake. "I didn't mean to intrude upon your visit, but thank you for being willing to entertain me during such precious times." offering some thanks. "Both of you." eyes flicking to Cor'lana as she moves to nestle in her chosen seat once her cup is prepared. Plain tea added, no milk, cream, or sugars. "So, what things does Grandfather know of? Leylines, and mana flow?" the question seemingly random, but a smirk is soon on the Bard's lips.

The air certainly does smell of lemon and lavender... and, most importantly of all, sugar. It's a heady combination that has Pothy in particular excited, the bird flying from Cor'lana's shoulder to the kitchen, where he can inspect the brick oven from his preferred perch of the kitchen counter... his tail wagging all the while. "These are really yummy, Patch. You'll like them a lot!" he calls out, that cherubic boyish voice full of excitement.

Grandfather chuckles a little, seemingly both at Pothy and Patch's sentiment and question. "I know many things. Namely cooking, baking, knitting, gardening, laundry... And other things, such as that detestable den of vipers known as the Courts," he says. "But I do know of magic, yes. Cor'lana did not quite inherit my bloodline's abilities, but that has been somewhat remedied by time and rite."

"Grandfather's always asking about my friends, anyway," Cor'lana says with a snicker, sitting down on the couch that she and Telamon customarily share. "It's no intrusion at all. I take it this discovery of yours has to do with leylines, then?" She picks up her teacup and sips.

"That's astute of you, Sister." Patch muses, her words no subtle hint about where her mind has been on things. "It does, but more about how they have changed recently near the city. Some places grow almost volatile, but... the cause requires more research." she explains, waving off the topic. "I'd offer more, but all I can really say is that it has an effect on magics beyond a certain level. Enough that two people were nearly killed from the rebound caused by a anti-magic field scroll." she says flatly. That's a feat, as it's not a scroll usually used for offense, but it leading to an explosion of mana is enough to let the situation linger on her mind.

"Don't strain over it, I believe it will take time and research to understand, but until then it might serve people to be wary of magics used outside the city's walls." Patch advises, but it seems more an informal courtesy. A familial favor that she mentions these things. She sips her tea, a glance dropping to her cup with another shrug. "I wish I could say more, but I am getting some research partners together to take a look into it." she admits, smiling at her cup. "This is delightful, what is it?" she asks of her drink, looking up and between the two.

"The cookies do smell wonderful, I'm sure you're right Pothy. Something scrumptious would serve me well today." The bird's chiming and cute demeanor earning a flair of brow and a nod with a smile. "How often does Grandfather make you treats, huh? Every week?"

Cor'lana's brows furrow a little. "Exploding? Outside of the walls?" she asks, although it's almost a rhetorical question. "If it's within a certain distance, I wonder if maybe there's something on top of the city's wards that prevent teleportation and summoning magic from happening within its limits..."

She leans back against the sofa and sighs. "Well, if you need researching help, Telamon and I are available," she says. "We've certainly done our fair share of running to the libraries in Alexandria looking for things that could help. Mikilos, the archmage, would probably be interested in the matter. And... maybe Mourner Verna. You ought to get to know her, too, if you haven't already."

"I second the suggestion regarding the Mourner," Grandfather says, "but I am afraid I am not of much help regarding leylines on this... mortal realm. I have only made my actual coil present there a few times in my life--this current appearance is a messenger spell of sorts that I've engineered."

Then he smiles at the conversation turn of treats. "It's lavender-mint tea that I grew," he responds. "I bring that and other teas with me when I visit, and then I typically take over the housekeeping and cooking when I am here to make meals and, yes, snacks for my beloved child, her soulmate, and her dear feather-sibling." He indicates Pothy with a sweep of those huge taloned hands.

"Best grandfather ever!" Pothy says. "I think they'll be done annnnny minute now!"

"Just a few more minutes, little one," Grandfather says with a chuckle. "Impatient as a child, yet he's lived a long life as well."

"I have met Mourner Verna. Through a good friend, Slixvah. She seems knowledgeable and kind.... so perhaps that is a good idea." Patch notes, thinking on those words and recommendations. "Mikilos was the first I thought of, but I don't know if he has interest in such changes. A survey will take time, but he may yet be convinced." she muses, sipping her drink and taking time to try and taste those varying things that were mentioned. Yes, a floral body with a warmth of mint. Delicate, but soothing.

"Oh, I get impatient too when snacks are on the line. Food is important, though so is having a little bit of self control. Even though I am trying to work on those impulses, they sometimes still get me." Patch muses of herself, taking a moment to let eyes roam over the fey-body crafted by magic, and controlled by proxy. "Pothy has lived a long life?" confusion there, looking from him to Cor'lana. "You mentioned Pothy had been your mother's familiar? Or.. did I mishear?"

Grandfather cedes the floor to Cor'lana, who smiles at the mention of her mother--a little expression that belies the small warmth of her mother's memory. "Yes," she says. "He was also her father's familiar. And many other ancestors' as well. It is said that my mother's family, the Branfeax family, had an ancestor that was 'blessed' with arcane knowledge, and was granted a boon in the form of Pothy, who was meant to be a repository of knowledge for the ancestor. When that first ancestor passed on, their power--and Pothy--was granted to someone else. And so on, and so on, and so on. The only way it can be transferred... is through death. And given the nature of adventurers, which almost all of the 'inheritors' have been, you can imagine Pothy has seen many of them. Unfortunately, all he seems to remember is foodstuffs knowledge."

Pothy's feathers puff up from where he sits on the kitchen counter. "Culinary knowledge is very important!" he whines. "Everything else can be documented and explained by other beings of knowledge. I took on a very important job!"

Grandfather chuckles. "My theory is that someone decided the little one was so adorable that they fed him snack after snack, and he fell in love with food then," he says.

"Well, I have a few foods I like too much. Stands to reason that in a long life that one would gravitate towards their passions." Patch muses, sipping again on her tea, and adjusting herself in her seat. One leg is crossed over another, and a light sigh breaks form her lips before her next words. "Apologies if my questions... are too much. I find I often have a habit of tugging on strings, and the knots of life that hurt. It's not intentional." her tone apologetic.

"Pothy does seem knowledgeable about foods and snack, and it's true he's adorable." Patch reasons with a small smile, laughing at the large fey's words. "Though he seems a handful, I am sure he contributes and helps with things. I'd heard rumor of some of his deeds, and to my knowledge they were dangerous." His absence coming to mind, though admittedly she does not know that whole story.

Cor'lana shakes her head, smiling pleasantly still. "It's okay," she says. "Mother passed on some time ago, and... Some of the sadness I felt, I had to barter away in exchange for something important. Something life-saving."

She sips from her cup of tea for a moment and puts it back down on the coffee table. "Pothy is a brave bird," she says. "Despite his affinity for snacks and foodstuffs, I cannot complain about his behavior. For..."

She looks for a moment in Pothy's direction. "Pothy, is it okay if I talk about the Queen?" she asks.

There's a still moment. Pothy's tail in the kitchen stops wagging. His blue eyes go from pleased that he's being talked about so glowingly to a sudden sullenness. "It's okay," he says, finally. "But I need those cookies right afterwards."

Cor'lana nods, and she turns her violet gaze back to Patch. "This doesn't leave this house," she says, "but I bartered with the Queen of Air and Darkness to secure... something, that a friend of mine needed," she says. "In order to make that trade, the Queen wanted me to stay in her Court for a century. Telamon was with me, and he begged me not to go, because he wouldn't be able to follow. And... Pothy volunteered to go in my stead."

There's a sober note in her voice--one that's interrupted as Pothy takes flight back from the kitchen to sit in Cor'lana's lap. He cuddles into her. "It's okay," he says. "I learned a lot there. Even if it was hard to learn. I did it for my big sister."

Cor'lana squeezes Pothy a little. "That's why he was gone for three weeks," she tells Patch. "A century in her Majesty's realm is not the same here on the mortal plane."

Grandfather growls a little, the genial expression turning to that of quiet rage. "Would that I could measure to Her Majesty in any regard," he says, "I would tear her throat out for suggesting that she could keep my child from her mate." He seems to remember that he's in polite company, however, and instead puts the teacup back up to his mouth.

"No matter what real such beings come from, some fey, or even demonic entities... prices can be steep." Patch admits, her tone dropping as she had listened to the tale, and it being enough for her to flick an ear in surprise, and frustration. "Sometimes the cost is too high, and people fold and break trying to pay something they could never afford." something in Patch's tone distant, true memories there of something or another as she sighs. "It is luck and fate that Pothy and you made out as you did, and I am grateful for it."

"I witnessed some deals that should not of been bargained for, and the results... were hard to watch as the deals went badly." Patch admits, her tea finished and the cup and saucer set upon the table before her. "A lot more of what I first saw now makes sense... and I will honor your wish to keep these secrets. We all make the calls we feel we must, even if they can go against what some see as rational, or reasonable."

"I have made deals of my own, and needed help getting myself out of a bind. Lady Sandiel has proven to be an invaluable friend in that regard, and for it I learned much about the planes of our realm." Patch admits, offering a weak smile in return. "So it works out... sometimes."

"Luck and fate," Cor'lana says with a nod, "and an understanding of how the fey work. Enough to survive that encounter and to end up on the Queen's good graces. The price was... I can't even really begin to put a price on it. I'm just glad Pothy is here." She gives the bird some scritches in his fluffy feathers, and he makes a happy humming noise--perhaps the 'true voice' equivalent of the raven purring noises that Pothy is given to making when he's limited only to raven noises and voice mimicry.

This seems to give Grandfather his cue to stand up. Once he's finally standing up, it's rather apparent how intimidating the man could be in the right circumstance, as he stands about six feet tall. "I'll get those cookies for our brave little one," he says with a smirk, and he treads over into the kitchen.

Cor'lana looks up at Patch with a flash of intrigue on her face. "Madame Sandy? She was my mentor for a while when I first came to Alexandria!" she says, smiling widely. "She is an amazing person, albeit, well, moody at times--but Pothy got on her good side, so she agreed to mentor me."

"No, you cried about not being able to remember things, so she agreed to mentor you," Pothy corrects. "But it's true, I am adorable."

"Sandy and I are fairly close. She and I met by chance one night, and discovered we had a mutual friend." Patch says fondly, a wide smile splaying on her features as the two have a moment to talk while the fey grandfather took his leave to tend to Pothy and cookies. "We joked a bit while she took some measurements for fittings, and... well. We've been close since." she admits with a slight sigh. "Ya know? Everyone tells me about her having a terrible temper, and moods but she's...." Patch's words coming with a laugh. "She's never shown it. We've been drunk in the theater, and walked the streets late at night." shocked, but not too much at Cor'lana's words. "So I don't know what to say to all of that. She and I just have good times, and I try on clothes at the shop she makes for me."

"As for Pothy? Of course he's a good bird. He's an amazing bird. I can see why she'd like him." Patch muses, rolling an eye to Pothy. "So serious, and you could of played along with her and I'd of never been the wiser." Patch notes, smirking lightly at Pothy, and then looking after the fey guest. "I am glad Pothy is here too, even if he was so quick to sell my sister out."

"The cookies smell wonderful. You mentioned he does this a lot? Comes and bakes for you? Is it some new baked good every time?" Patch finally has to ask.

There's the click of a key in the door, and it opens. A familiar tread, and a clear voice. "Honey, I'm home!" Yes, it's Telamon Atlon, Cor'lana's beau and sorcerous diplomat. There's no doffing of a cloak, but he unbuckles his boots and leaves them by the door, once he's shut it -- sliding on a pair of house slippers, as he stretches. "Thank the gods the mail is still getting delivered," he remarks, as he pads into the living room.

He pauses, his eyes flicking to Patch, eyebrows rising momentarily before he smiles. "Well, Patch, good to see you again! Sorry I wasn't here to greet you, but the airship brought in mail from the Mythwood and I had a few things to collect." He's dressed in his ruffled white silk shirt and leather trousers, hair almost artfully tousled. Tucked under one arm is a package and what looks like an oilskin letter-pouch. Crossing to Lana, he kisses her cheek. "I presume that's Grandfather in our kitchen?" he inquires with a grin.

"The one and only," Grandfather calls out from the kitchen as he strides back into the living room, holding a large plate of lemon-lavender cookies. Their aroma is, of course, miraculous--certainly good enough that Pothy's tail is now wagging almost fast enough to power an airship. He takes flight to Grandfather's shoulder, and the fey patriarch holds out a cookie to the bird for him to consume. "Hello, Telamon."

Cor'lana giggles and flushes a little from the cheek-kiss, returning it in kind. "Yes, it's Grandfather," she says. "Patch came by to discuss a strange arcane matter she's been investigating. And, belatedly, it turns out she knows Madame Sandy. What a small world it can be here in Alexandria."

Pothy inhales the cookie and makes a very satisfied sighing sound. "Grandfather, if only you could make all of the snacks in the world," he says.

"Well, not a new thing every time," Grandfather admits. "I do, after all, tend to make what my dear child requests, and she's particularly fond of these cookies."

Patch stands quickly with a jerk of her legs, smiling as Telamon enters. "Yes, just some observations and warning. When I know more, so will you." she clarifies of Cor'lana's conversation, a half-bow offered as she tires to find her formalities once again. "Just be wary of using strong magics around the outskirts beyond the city's walls."

"It's also true, I do know Lady Sandiel fairly well. Casually, and not as adventurer or as a mentor. We just enjoy one another's company, and cause mischief. She's fond of that." the Dawn Elf gets out with a broader smirk.

"And Grandfather was making us feel right at home. The cookies being a nice touch. One I can get behind fully." Patch muses in tease, though there does seem to be a bit more than a hint of truth in her words. "I often wonder how many fights my mother would of prevented if she had taken up baking instead of trying to fix what wasn't broken."

Telamon gestures for Patch to sit back down, as he grins at Grandfather. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. I hate not being around to play host, even if I know Lana and Grandfather can pick up the slack." He smoothly slides into a seat next to Lana, as he listens to Patch's words about using strong magics around the outskirts.

His brows come together. "That's... slightly ominous. While strength of arms has its place, the walking dead and the werewolves are a lot easier to manage if you can turn them into charcoal." Tel taps his fingertips together. "Patch, who else has heard tidings of this? You mentioned Lady Sandiel -- anyone else we could prevail on to take a look as well?"

"I suggested Mikilos," Cor'lana says as she slides up next to Telamon on the couch, which is probably more of a second-nature thing for her to do at this point. "But he can... kind of have his head in the clouds when it comes to magic, I've noticed? That might be exactly what we need, however."

Grandfather puts the plate of cookies down on the coffee table, taking care not to disturb any cups of tea nor the teapot containing the beloved lavender-mint tea. "What's in the package?" he asks, regarding the package that Telamon had brought in from his errands out.

"Yes, what is in the package?" Patch muses after the Grandfather, motioning to Telamon in play.

"Though... I thought of Mikilos to aid me, but I thought to warn Cor'lana first of what was discovered. You'll see it posted of in the coming days I'll suspect. It's still just fresh news to the Guild." Patch explains, her tone still low as she retakes the seat that Telamon motions to. "There are areas outside the city where magic is not working as it should. Perhaps working too well, or doing things that are unexpected. The leylines have began to shift, and change." she explains for a second time. "We used a magic nullification scroll, creating a temporary zone devoid of magic upon a hill just a ways out of town. The scroll worked, but it disrupted the natural waves in the sea of mana. Once they resumed, the ambient power that had still tried to flow boiled over into the area our magics drained, causing an explosion that nearly claimed two lives." she says in a far more serious tone. "So far I have confirmed it is only effecting magics of a certain caliber, my own unable to duplicate this effect... but I have theories, and postulate with more help that I can survey and understand these changes more."

"I just hope those who were with me are smart enough to not try and weaponized, or capitalize off this phenomenon." This last bit seeming to be a grave concern for Patch. "Apologies for the gritty of it all."

Telamon nods. "Archmage Mikilos is a good choice. As... flighty as he can be, he can demonstrate focus when it's needed." He scowls at Patch's further explanation, definitely not liking what he's hearing. "That shouldn't even be possible -- an abjuration flattens out the mana wave, it shouldn't cause a disruption like that, even after it subsides." He exhales, and looks to Lana and Grandfather. "Might want to rethink teleporting or using plane shift for travel anytime soon."

At the mention of the package, Tel actually blushes a bit. "Oh. Well, father and mother sent it. Something to add to the house decorations, as it were. They had it reproduced from the original." He carefully opens the leather and canvas package, before sliding it out.

It's a family portrait, enclosed in an elegant frame. Smaller than the usual -- maybe a foot and a half by a foot -- but delicately done. The style and brushwork is pure sil, and the trio of figures are quite familiar. Telperius, ageless, his saturnine features glimmering with warmth and his lips curled up in a smile. Ariana, her red and gold hair spilling down one shoulder, dressed in an elven gown but radiating vitality and intensity. And seated between them is a little half-elven boy of about six years old. His platinum hair is cut short, and he has a huge, impish grin -- the look of a mischievous but well-meaning lad.

Cor'lana looks at the portrait that Telamon unveils and gasps, a hand going over her mouth. Her violet eyes sparkle as she inspects it, lingering for a while on little Telamon. "Oh gods, Tel, you were adorable," she says. "Look at you! You look like you were contemplating to play a prank on the artist who did this!"

"A glimpse at your future children's dispositions, no doubt," Grandfather says as he settles back into the rocking chair. He smiles fondly, however. "I had a portrait like that once. I gave it to one of the children, who passed it down... And over time, it was lost. If I recall correctly, something about a fire..."

He pauses for a moment as he strokes his chin (how he manages to do this with such impressively large talons and without hurting himself is anyone's guess). "Oh, yes, I remember now. One of my great-great-grandchildren set it on fire in a temper-tantrum in their very first manifestation of inexplicable sorcerous talent."

"You don't have to tell me that, Telamon. It's all sorts of wonky." Patch muses to his words, bobbing her head once more as a hand rises to brush some idle strands from her face. Her empty teacup is eyed on the small coffee table. "It will require a full appraisal and measurement of the waves that carry mana through the unseen sea. It only seems to be areas overflowing with mana, meaning the leylines have changed or shifted if it's happening outside the city."

"Would it be a terrible imposition to have another cup of tea?" Patch asks with a fluttering gesture of hand made between teapot and cup. "I think it's helped with my mood. I was tired when I first got here, but now I feel a bit of perk in my ears." a smile flashed, and a soft shake of her head given. "Sorry. I am ever adding more things to my full list... but Vaire asked me to try and help with anything that came before me. I didn't realize it would throw things off-kilter as it has."

After her admission, and request of permission for more tea, Patch smiles upon that family portrait. "Oh goodness, I would never of thought you so young once." she chimes, sitting forward to get a better look with her dull-green eyes. "From how you talked, I had imagined a scholarly mouse. Not a boy with trouble in his eyes." the jest said with warmth, a glance finding Cor'lana. "Tell me, does he still make that face?"

To Grandfather, Patch can't help but stifle a laugh, but she does make a comment in a lower tone. "I'd be devastated to destroy something such as that even in a fit, but I realize I have only one reminder of my family I kept." a hand falling to touch upon the case of her Hurdy-Gurdy.

"My mother bargained with me -- told me so long as I smiled, I could have any expression I wanted when I sat for the portrait with her and Father." Telamon's eyes are full of memory, and he smiles at it. "So of course I slapped on the biggest grin I had. Father thought it was absolutely charming, though." He chuckles. "I was never a hell-raiser... but no, I was no mouse. A kitten, perhaps, pouncing at feathers and climbing legs."

He looks to the others. "Hence why there's a bit of a market now in certain spells that replicate works of art. Usually there are some subtle indications -- if I'm correct, this one will have a faint trace of conjuration magic on it. That usually dissuades forgers from trying to pass off a copy as the original." He makes a face. "It's a shame to lose an heirloom to an accident."

Deftly, he reaches over to pour Patch another cup of tea. "I'm sorry if I've touched on old scars, Patch," he says sincerely. "I was lucky, I guess. One of my... well, selling points to Lana here is that my family will welcome her as if she was our own blood -- yes, I know, marriage kind of makes that true anyways. But you get the idea."

Cor'lana can't help but snort, grinning at Telamon's sentiment. "You're describing yourself like I went to the butcher and picked you up on a good deal," she teases. "Or like one of those dreadful classified ads you see from time to time. 'Handsome platinum-blond half-sil diplomat-sorcerer man seeks dark-haired feytouched half-sil sorcerer girl, has supportive and loving family members eager to adopt the new bride into family ledgers.' I would have never responded to the ad, for the record, on account of being too afraid to write in."

She looks back to Patch, grinning. "Oh, he does. He's incredibly impish when he wants to be. Which is frequently. I blame the fact we have pixies in the garden, a fey lord who cooks and cleans when he's here, and now a little faerie dragon for informing this aspect of his personality. Not that I'd change anything about him for the world." Telamon gets a kiss on the cheek for that.

Patch sits forward, standing only briefly to take her cup from Telamon. "What a proper gentleman. You didn't have to do all that trouble. I can pour it easily myself.... but, thank you." the Dawn Elf relents, offering a small smile as she settles again.

Taking a sip, Patch looks between the those here, including Pothy. "This is why he is the Prince-to-Be." Patch muses in a soft tone, her smile spreading wider. "Manners, charm, and family to make many envious. I get now some of the fey musings." Corlana's words earning a laugh from the Dawn Elf. "In anything but the flesh he'd seem far too good. The one time a written description would not do justice to the man."

Patch quietly adds to Telamon. "You did no wrong, or stirred nothing of the sort. It's one of the few fond memories I have, so don't apologize for silly things."

Telamon actually colors a bit. "Stop that, you two, you're going to swell my head such that I won't be able to wear a proper hat." He's grinning as he says it, though, and in that expression can be seen the echo of that child in the portrait. Older, wiser -- well, maybe -- but no less willful and charming.

"For me, family has always been something good, people you could go to if you needed a lesson -- even if it was unpleasant -- or just to heal. So I don't see why I shouldn't share that mentality. To be a friend to all those who mean well."

He leans over to peer out into the garden through the window. "Speaking of being a friend, I presume Jyndei's outside snoozing. He's been following me around the last day or two asking me questions."

Cor'lana giggles tremendously as Telamon protests--a giggling fit so powerful she sinks into the couch as she tries to contain herself. "Goodness knows we can't have that, because he looks fetching in hats, too," she says.

Pothy flaps over to the table and takes a cookie, swallowing it in one go down the gullet. He looks at Patch and says, "This is why I have to take them both down a notch or two every now and then. Otherwise, they might never come out of the house."

"I wouldn't mind that if it meant I got some grandchildren out of it," Grandfather comments dryly before raising his teacup to his lips. Siiiip.

"Well, the looks not be an issue soon enough regardless." Patch's coy tone mean for Grandfather as she sips on her tea. "I also find it heartening that they may not be burdened with the curse of those with full blood. My mother only ever had me, and she's lived for near eight centuries."

"Though, if that does little to cool your heated cheeks, dear... I do hope you two have thought of names. I'll be expecting announcements within the year." oh, she's being a bit cheeky towards Cor'lana, but it doesn't last too long as her tea is used to calm her words with a sip. Most her words seem to be in good natured play, but like the fey Grandfather, there is more than just a tease to her tone. She seems happy for the two, a smile offered as she looks at them from across the cup near her lips.

Telamon just gives Grandfather a look, before his eyes move to his giggling fiancee. "It's going to be so much fun watching him have to haggle for time with the grandchildren. I hope you realize Mother is going to be just as insistent on time with our children as you are, Grandfather?" He picks up his teacup and takes a sip, eyes glinting.

"I know we had discussed Nadina if our first is a girl. I don't know what we want to do if our firstborn's a boy. Maybe name him Luthel?" He picks up a cookie, munching on it contemplatively. "Whatever happens, they will be loved, and I suspect they will not be only children either."

Grandfather scowls a little over the rim of his teacup. It's an expression that would ordinarily instill a bit of fear, but the context of the situation makes it more comical than anything. "All the more reason for you both to end up with twins, or perhaps triplets," he says. "That way I can hold one, Telamon's mother can hold one, and maybe his father could hold a third."

Cor'lana looks vaguely queasy at this notion. "Triplets? Grandfather, we've had this conversation when you and Verna discussed the possibility of me pushing out twenty children total. I am a small girl. I don't think I could handle more than one at a time, and I don't think I'll want more than two or three."

She sips her tea, perhaps to chase away the upset tummy that the idea's given her. "Yes, Nadina for a girl, after my mother," she tells Patch, piggybacking off Telamon's statement. "Luthel is a fine name for a boy, too--that would be after my mother's longest-lived lover. There are other names, of course. I have a feeling some friends-turned-family's names could be in the running as well."

"Just don't name then Siofra, and you will do them all the favors you already could." Patch muses, leaning forward to set her tea upon the coffee table. "Not that I inherently dislike it as a name, but it was the inflection my mother used." she muses.

"Three is a good number, but twenty? No." The bard laughing as she stands, and adjusts the cloak on her shoulders.

"I'd love to tarry longer, but I have an appointment at the Bardic College that I'd like to keep." a dip of head given with a smile. "So I'd best get going... it was a pleasure to spend company with all of you. Grandfather included." Patch offers, picking up her instrument, and carrying it before herself.

"Thank you for the wonderful tea." a free hand snaking quickly to snatch a cookie, and motion with it. "And don't think I forgot! I was just letting them cool. I'd not flee without at least taking one as a boon to try."

Telamon just boggles at Cor'lana, then at Grandfather. "...Twenty? Grandfather, you and I are going to have a little conversation. Unless you plan to carry some of those to birth yourself, you need to curb your enthusiasm. Good gods." He looks like he can't decide to be dumbfounded or intensely offended.

As Patch makes her farewells, Telamon rises to walk her to the door. "You are always welcome here, Patch. We're always happy to share a pot of tea and discuss what we need to do to keep the world right side up." He grins again. "Among other unimportant topics. Do give the Bardic College our best -- I grant I don't go there much, but you never know where I'll be asked to step in and mediate."

"It was teasing, of course," Grandfather says with a laugh like the tolling of bells. "I only want as many grandchildren as Cor'lana is willing to have. Besides, if you have three children, and they all have three children, and then all of them have three children... The new Lúpecyll-Atlon family will have plenty of grandchildren for me to dote on."

He gives his own wave to Patch with those monstrous claws of his, smiling. "Do enjoy the cookie, and I am glad that you liked the tea," Grandfather states. "So long, Patch, and please--anyone that Cor'lana calls 'sister' will always be welcome in my presence, so do return any time I am here."

"And any time when he's not," Cor'lana says, following Telamon to the door with a smile as well. "And yes, give the Bardic College our best. Maybe one of these days I'll finally get the nerve to perform my poetry there and be ripped to shreds."

"You'd likely fair better than you'd expect. Ask Lady Sandiel about the plays we watched them put on during their night of madness. Not good. We couldn't sit through it this year" Patch muses, offering a short-bow to the two as she's walked towards the door. The cookie is held in hand, her smile growing at their bid for her return. "I know, Master Telamon. I do. I just don't sit still too long before my legs have to move. The bard that marches, yeah?" she muses, turning and seeing herself out, and waving once before going on her way. "I will drop by again soon, rest assured. Sister, friends, and some new family. Many things wait for me here, all of them welcome." the cookie's end popped into her mouth, and she's on her way.

Telamon watches Patch depart, before letting the door shut again. His arm around Cor'lana's shoulders, as he leans down to kiss her cheek again. "She's been lonely for a while, hasn't she?" he asks, as he leads Lana back to the living room and reclaims his seat. "I hope this... is helping her mend a bit. Find a new path, write a better tale."

His eyes move to Grandfather, and he chuckles. "Alright, I withdraw my comment about the conversation. But yes, that's the nature of mortals. We do tend to multiply if nobody stops us. And... I think it might set your mind a little more at ease, knowing the line will continue, and grow." His eyes twinkle. "Like a tree, come to think of it."

"Why do you think we call each other sister now?" Cor'lana says with a grin, walking back with Telamon to the couch. "I couldn't ignore what all she told me the other day when she reminded me so much of myself. It seems that coming to Alexandria was the best move for her. Just like as it was for me."

She plants a kiss on Telamon's cheek. "Hence the mark on my chest," she says. "The roots that come out from the feather is a symbol for what will come next."

Grandfather leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, the fey lord looking utterly at home in his rocking chair. "She should come around again," he agrees. "Perhaps I'll bake a cake. Or brownies. There are many possibilities."

"Which reminds me. There was a letter with the package." Telamon picks up the oilcloth packet, carefully opening it up and removing multiple sheets. "Ah, wonder if there's some new news..." He leans back next to Lana, reading. "Mother's demanding we hurry up 'so I can get some grandchildren to spoil', yep, you're definitely going to have to reach some accommodations there, Grandfather..." He hrms a bit. "Evidently wights have made a couple of attacks at Ylvaliel. No deaths, thank the gods, but the druids are pulling out some new tricks. Something about a spell that causes uncontrolled plant growth in undead flesh."

He sets a couple pages aside, looking at the next one. "Father sends greetings, thanks me for checking in with the Vintner and Jovani, and..." His brows come together. "And he inquires if I'd be available to represent him in a dispute between two nobles here in Alexandria. Evidently they asked for him, but he can't get out of the Mythwood. Wonderful."

Cor'lana snickers. "Well," she says, "we have plenty of time to live our lives and enjoy each other before we oblige either your mother or Grandfather--sorry, Grandfather. It's good to hear that they've managed to hold their own against the wights so far."

Then the expression turns to a frown as Telamon reveals the next bit. "Does... that mean you'd have to go to court?" she asks, raising a brow. "I mean, I know someone who could help in that regard. Friendly egalrin fellow named Integrity C Truefeather--a lawyer of some sort."

Telamon reads through the rest of the letter. "Well, the good news is that it's in arbitration, not an actual court case. They're trying to work it out first before the lawyers get involved." He puts down the remaining pages, tapping his fingers. "I've met him once or twice. A bit excitable, but I might need to consult with him."

He sighs. "What I'm not happy about is that one of the principals is Baron Shoulto." Tel scowls. "Which is a problem, since Shoulto's nephew is that lackwit Kelev. Hopefully he's not involved. Meanwhile, the other party is Sir Elioth Sanderlin... who as I understand is one of the oldest serving knights in Alexandros. How the hells did he get tangled up in this?"

He rubs his temples. Then he glances at Lana. "What does the 'C' in Integrity's name stand for, anyways?"

Cor'lana blinks in surprise. "Kelev--that's one of the men who tried to court Addy, but then she discovered they all were more interested in talking about themselves instead of listening to her, right?" she asks. "That could be problematic..."

Then she thinks. She thinks very hard. "You know, I don't know if I ever got an explanation for what the 'C' stands for," she replies after a moment, a little bewildered. "It has to stand for something..."

Grandfather makes a noise like a snore. The fey lord appears to be... sleeping? Cor'lana looks bewildered again--and then she gets a certain look on her face, mischievous and playful. "I think we ought to take a nap, too," she says. "You were awfully cute earlier when you were blushing." There's something in her voice that suggests there might be more than naps involved.

Telamon looks pained. "No, Lana. Kelev was the man we tossed out of the Chalice for having some amazingly terrible ideas. In fact, I punched him when he shot his mouth off." Oops.

He looks over at Grandfather suspiciously -- the snore seems a little convenient -- but he smiles at Lana. "Well, next time I see Integrity I'll ask him. Surely it stands for something. Maybe it's for an Auran word?" He takes Lana's hand, though, as he rises.

"I think a nap, though... might not be a bad idea. We'll be able to review that letter with clearer eyes." He lifts her hand to his lips, eyes sparkling gently.

"That man," Cor'lana says with a sigh. "Oh yes, I remember now. I think I willed myself to forget on account of... Eugh."

She shakes her head. "Let's go... do happier things. Like... cuddling. And napping. And other things," she says, her eyes sparkling, too, as Telamon takes her hands and kisses it.

The half-elves depart for the bedroom. After a few minutes pass, Grandfather peeks an eye open... and grins at Pothy. He puts a massive talon to his lips and slowly creeps out of his rocking chair, walking over to the kitchen. He begins to go about the process of chopping up vegetables.

Pothy flies over to the kitchen counter. "What are you doing?" he asks quietly.

"They'll be hungry when they're done and awaken later," Grandfather responds cheerfully. "And it gives me the opportunity to make sure the place is spotless. They won't give me grandchildren now, but I do like to encourage their love."

Pothy snorts. "No, I mean what are you making?"

"Soup, of course," Grandfather replies with a grin.