A Walk In The Woods

Log Info

• Title: A Walk In The Woods

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: The Mythwood, near Marniar'nir

• Summary: Still on honeymoon, the Lupecyll-Atlons opt for a pleasant picnic in the woods, discussing any number of eclectic subjects from Patch's history to Telamon's new talent in teleportation. The picnic is only interrupted by a raven servant of Grandfather, who's evidently there to make sure they don't get into any unpleasant trouble.

Marniar'nir, the Mythwood, noon.

Light filters down through tree cover in the woods, a gentle autumn breeze rustling through the trees. Here in the Mythwood, things simply feel more magical, and that feeling is what chases Cor'lana as she walks hand-in-hand with her husband, violet eyes wandering around the environment. They'd packed a basket of sandwiches made for them by the servants of the estate, and had resolved to simply walk until they found a nice enough spot.

"I'm just glad it was nice enough today to hike like this," Cor'lana says as she returns her attention to Telamon. The ground won't give way underneath them, and there doesn't appear to be anything in the woods at the moment that might want to eat them... So she might as well look at the prettiest thing in the woods. "Not that I didn't enjoy being rained in yesterday, of course." Her face flushes.

Indeed, the Mythwood, while lacking the sheer age of Llyranost, has its own charm. Animals can be seen on occasion as the two half-elves walk along the path, usually ambling off as soon as they take notice of the couple. Even as autumn inexorably bears down, there's still a little warmth left, enough for the couple to go for a walk.

"That rainstorm delayed things a touch, but..." Telamon gives Lana an arch grin. "We found plenty to do on our own." He enjoys the blush on her cheeks, but doesn't continue teasing. "In any case, it's probably one of the last 'nice days', so we should definitely enjoy it." His lips turn down ever so slightly. "Then it'll be snow and other nastiness. Ah well... replanting the garden in spring will be fun. Especially with what we've learned over the last year."

Cor'lana takes Telamon's hand, her cheeks still flushing as she clearly recalls what was done over the course of the rainstorm. "I still can't believe you beat me so soundly at chess," she says. Yes, /that/ is a reason to be flustered. "... And at pickpocket." That's more like it.

A autumn breeze blows past, however, which chases the memory away, and Cor'lana looks thoughtful at the mention of winter, her eyes dancing on the trees--perhaps imagining how they'd look in snowfall. "I'm kind of looking forward to winter, actually," she says. "I liked having an excuse to cuddle up next to you on the couch while buried under five different blankets. Pothy did, too. Speaking of which, I'm sure he's having the time of his life back at the estate in his room."

Telamon squeezes her hand, as the two walk onward. "I should've warned you father taught me the game. While I'm not near as good as him, I still remember most of the tricks." He winks at Lana. "Still, you did reasonably well at pickpocket. You had some good hands." His eyes twinkle at the double entendre.

"I spoke to the servants before we left. The cooks are experimenting with new recipes, and Pothy is going to be their taste-tester. So by the time we get back, he should be... well, I doubt he'll be full, but he'll have had a very fun time." He pauses, and touches one of the trees lightly with his free hand. "Hm."

Cor'lana can't help but to snicker a little. "You had nice hands yourself," she replies, cheeks still a bit rosy-red. It appears marriage has begun to embolden Cor'lana a little in retorts--or it could be that feytouched nature of hers, which either amplifies her shyness at times or encourages her to be more confident. Maybe both.

"So long as Pothy is kept occupied and isn't complaining that we abandoned him on /our/ honeymoon," Cor'lana says with a little eye-roll and a smile, "then that's what matters to me. And he seems to not mind one bit. Putting him up in the library was a good idea."

Her curiosity is caught by the tree, too, as Telamon stops to touch it. "What's wrong?" she asks, brow raised.

Telamon studies the tree, then shakes his head. "Not really." He actually blushes a bit. "Thought it was a dryad's tree for a moment, but no." Then he snorts. "Oh, that reminds me, I've a tale for you, love. You'll like this one."

The two amble out into a small clearing, drenched in sunlight. "So after the wights were pushed back, there was an interesting postscript. Several children showed up at the Alexandrian gate -- evidently they'd been left behind in the evacuation, but had found shelter. I was asked to drop in at the Soldier's Defense to hear the stories, and well..."

He barely stifles a laugh. "The young lad who was the de facto 'leader' was this strapping fellow. Dark hair, works on his family's farm. And as soon as I saw him I knew -exactly- where those kids had been hiding."

Cor'lana begins to set out the contents of the picnic basket, as this is certainly a fine spot for a picnic. A plaid violet-blue blanket is laid out on the ground, and Cor'lana sits down. She pulls the sandwiches out of the basket and offers one to Telamon before taking her own out.

She looks at Telamon with amusement twinkling in her violet eyes. "Let me guess," she says. "A very nice and lovely dryad happened to see this 'poor and defenseless' young man and offered him shelter out of the kindness of his heart." The sarcasm is thick enough to be cut with a knife.

Telamon helps lay out the blanket, and settles down next to Lana, taking the offered sandwich and smiling. "Thank you," he remarks, kissing her cheek.

"But oh no, it had nothing to do with the kindness of heart -- well, maybe somewhat. I've mentioned having to... mediate between the dryads and the farming families. The dryads had to be asked -- well, told -- they couldn't keep the lads for weeks on end." Tel scratches his chin with a poorly concealed smile. "In any case, this lad had been visiting... Coriander. She's reasonable enough, though she has a liking for dark haired types. So when the wights attacked, said young man led those children to the safest place he could think of."

Tel munches on his sandwich for a bit. "In honesty it was a pretty good plan. The young children were kept safe by the forest fey -- they have no more love for the undead than we do. And all it took was... heh... our brave hero entertaining the princess of the wood."

Cor'lana snickers. "Well, I suppose it's all harmless enough," she says. "Although I'd be wary of any consequences that might result from that sort of thing. There are plenty of stories about changelings--the offspring of some fey who are switched out with a mortal child, leaving the parents to care for a child who grows up and acts in ways that they can't understand."

She unwraps her sandwich and takes a bite out of it. "Patch... She told me that's why she's estranged from her own family. Her true name means just that--changeling. Hearing of that, that was part of why I was so quick to call her sister. We are kin in a sense in that feytouched regard."

Telamon furrows his brow. "I've never heard that about dryads -- and when we started courting I started studying up on fey in general." He sits back, resting his weight on one hand for a moment, looking thoughtful. "The ones I dealt with in Alexandros are... mercurial, but hardly malicious."

"Of course, as you've noted, not every fey is like that. I think we can both think of a couple." He cocks his head at Lana's story about Patch. "You didn't tell me that. I understand why you bonded to her so readily, though. Well..." he smiles. "I certainly have no object to her being a sister of sorts. She's good people."

"I don't think most dryads would make changeling children, no," Cor'lana says, smirking. "Honestly, I don't think they'd want mortal-born children for a variety of reasons. Many fey, for better or for worse, are more interested in procreating with their own. Mortals are... Toys and tools. Sources of amusement and weapons to use against other fey. That's why /Her Majesty/ made the comment about Grandfather having such peculiar tastes." It's obvious why Cor'lana would decline to name the Queen by title in a forest where fey could be hiding around trees at any moment.

Another snap into the sandwich and Cor'lana nods appreciatively. "That's good," she murmurs. Then she turns back to Telamon. "I... It's a complicated thing," she says. "I don't know all of the details, myself. Only that Patch has been wronged in part by fey, and that I wished to make her feel happy and welcome in our home. And there's something to be said for not telling other people's stories if you are unsure if you have the full story. I didn't hide it from you out of malicious intent."

Telamon shakes his head. "I never thought you did hide it, dear. As you say, some stories should not be told easily. And sometimes they're better told quietly." He smiles at Lana. "Well, all we can do is welcome Patch in and offer her what help we can. We're not perfect, but... we make a good team for setting things right."

He polishes off his sandwich, and reaches in to remove a pair of cups and a flask of tea. "Speaking of setting things right -- and being on the move -- I kept up with my studies right up till the big day. And I think I know how to teleport now. Or as it would be in Sylvan, traveling without moving."

Cor'lana's still working on her sandwich, light eater that she is. Since she was gifted with the ability to not /need/ to eat anymore, her eating has become somewhat slow and lazy. Hunger, after all, simply isn't a thing she feels. "Teleporting?" She looks incredibly interested. "Does that mean... once you've mastered that, we're only mere steps away from being able to go to Quelynos on our own."

Her violet eyes twinkle with delight as she realizes that. "We could visit Grandfather even more often. I think he would /love/ that. /I/ would love that," she says. "But! Teleporting means our journey back to Alexandria is significantly shorter, too."

Telamon rocks his hand back and forth. "Not quite. Teleportation won't breach the planar barriers. You need to be able to plane shift for that. -But-," he adds, "it would make traveling from Alexandria to Ylvaliel a lot quicker and easier, and we know Grandfather has an easier time coming and going to Quelynos through the Mythwood." He looks thoughtful. "The odd part is I can remember feeling... off kilter, the times I've teleported. And I wonder if it's because this... talent was nascent, and reacting to it."

Then he smiles at Lana brightly. "But! Now that it's... unlocked, as it were, I suspect I'll have an easier time. Of course, visualization is key. It's not a good idea to try and punch a hole through space to somewhere you can't quite remember."

Cor'lana nods. "I meant that being able to teleport means that you don't have that much further to go in terms of knowledge gaps," she says, "in order to learn how to plane shift. It's considerable magic, yes, but so is teleporting." Her eyes sparkle. "That's to say, Telamon, you are just only a bit shy of us having weekly lunches at Grandfather's house. That is an /accomplishment/, my starborn king."

She leans in and kisses his cheek playfully. "I wouldn't be surprised if you handle teleporting much easier now that you can do it--just due to your own knowledge of magic, and how your 'talent' grows."

Telamon blushes a little at the endearments, as he pours a cup of tea for Lana first, then himself. Passing a cup over to her, he nods. "I... you're right, of course. I'm sure Grandfather will be thrilled at the prospect. I certainly won't object to it -- though I need to spend some time at his place, memorizing it. Plane shift to take us to Quelynos, then teleport to jump us to his front porch." He looks thoughtful. "I remember reading something about scribing a pattern that helps to focus the teleport... I guess time to visit the university when we return to Alexandria."

He touches his cup to Lana's in a toast, before sipping his tea. "It's... curious. Like I'm finally learning to see things a little differently, queen of my heart. That space and distance are tangible things, but also... negotiable."

Cor'lana takes her cup and raises it. "To our marriage," she says with a little grin before she takes her first sip. A toast has to have... well, a toast, after all. It helps wash down the last of her sandwich now that she's finally finished it.

And it seems she's rather insistent on teaching him a bit more about distance, as she quietly scoots closer to him on the blanket, leaning her head onto his shoulder. She sighs a little--a happy sound, not a sad or bored sound--and she closes her eyes, her hands wrapped around her cup. "Just remember that, regardless of our magic potential," she says, "we are... still us. Two people who found each other and fell in love. Although I won't object to returning to the Society Courtyard where we first met for more studying."

Telamon smiles. "As much fun as I have with my magic... it's completely secondary to you, dear." He holds his cup in one hand, his other arm going around her shoulders. "I love you, now and always and forever." He rests his cheek against her head. "That's what's really important. Everything I have, am, is at your service. Not because I'm a fool, but because I love you and want to do whatever it takes to make our lives together happy."

He takes a long pull from his tea, blushing a little. "Gods, I always thought saying things like that would sound... clumsy. But with you it's natural, as easy as breathing."

"We're in love," Cor'lana says, smiling so widely as she nuzzles her form against his. "And we're /married/ to each other. I don't think clumsy has any right to be in the conversation anymore. If our children find some of my love poems to you a hundred years from now, I'm sure they'll have plenty to critique. Maybe they'll find it all terribly hilarious and clumsy. I'm told children in loving homes tend to think that way, at least for a while."

She snickers a little. "I mean, you would be able to tell me if that's true or not. Your parents, Gerry and Liandra... I feel like they're the two healthiest marriages we know that have produced happy and healthy people."

Telamon chuckles. "So long as they understand we were, are, in love, and that we always wrote from the heart... I don't think they'll laugh too much at us. I plan to make sure they grow up knowing their parents loved each other, and them, unconditionally and unreservedly." He sighs happily now, cuddling Lana back.

"Relationships are... complicated. Sometimes there are influences and interference that can make things uneasy. After I was born, father made a point to stay closer to home -- he's talked about how he was on the road a lot, prior to meeting and marrying mother. He didn't want to be an absent father. Oh, there were a couple times he got called on, but... they were rare. I think he was pleased, though. Raising me was a new experience for him."

Cor'lana finally opens an eye, looking up at Telamon. She'd gotten so comfortable and felt so safe in his presence that she didn't feel the need to constantly look at their surroundings. What in all of this part of the Mythwood would come to hurt them? And by her husband's side, what /couldn't/ they defeat? "I'm sure when you've already lived a long time as an elf, having an adorable little one with mischievous eyes running around really brings a zest of life back," she says. "I think... Grandfather experiences the same thing, but stronger, because he's fey and he's immortal. Every time he gets a child, or he can dote on one, he's in his happiest place, because they're new and unique experiences."

Then there's the sound of flapping in the trees--

And a raven, glossy-feathered and dressed in all black, lands close to Telamon and Cor'lana's picnic blanket.

"Merp," the raven says. Head-tilt. It seems to want something.

Telamon is, of course, -slightly- more cautious. Slightly. But anyone trying to make a play for them had better not make a mistake, or it will end very, very poorly for them. "I think that was part of it, yes. There's also responsibility, of course but... the joy of child-raising is definitely something that more poems should be written about. A hard task, yes, but a rewarding one." He gives Lana a squeeze and a grin. "We'll get to it in time. Don't worry, I think we have a little grace period.."

Then the raven lands next to the blanket, and Tel peers at it. "How many sandwiches did you pack, Lana? I think this fellow's looking for a handout." He doesn't try to wave the black-feathered bird away, but tilts his head. "Hello there, friend."

Cor'lana blinks, too, pulling away ever so slightly from Telamon to get a look at the bird. But the raven just peers at them both with brown eyes. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

"Merp," the raven says again.

"I didn't ask for more sandwiches," Cor'lana says sheepishly. "Umm..."

She reaches into her pocket and retrieves some dried berries. She holds out her hand. "Here you go," she says.

The raven ambles up to Cor'lana. It stares at her for another moment, and then... It begins to eat out of her hand. Unlike most wild ravens, it doesn't fly away after obtaining one piece.

Cor'lana stares at the creature for a moment. Then her eyes narrow. "Are you... one of Grandfather's birds in disguise?" she asks. "Which one are you? Telperius?"

The raven stiffens and looks at Cor'lana. "Protect my grandchildren," he says in a mimic of Grandfather's voice.

Cor'lana looks at Telamon and laughs. "It looks like we were being 'guarded'," she says.

Telamon laughs as well. "I might've expected as much. You know Grandfather." He finishes his tea, setting the cup down. "I'm not mad. So long as he's not prying into our, ahem, 'together time', it's all right." He offers the raven a grin. "Take heart. We will not wander off randomly into the deep woods."

"That being said, we probably should start to meander back to the estate at some point. I don't want to stress out Grandfather. Or for that matter, his minions." He gives Lana a hug. "We don't have to walk, either. We can always fly."

Telperius-bird (presumably) looks mildly offended at the notion that he's been peeking at Cor'lana and Telamon in the middle of their marital activities. All of his feathers puff up, and he makes a very offended-sounding, "Graaaaah."

But then Cor'lana pats his head feathers down, and suddenly the bird is purring happily in that odd manner that ravens purr. She grins at Telamon. "You heard that, though, right? He said 'my grandchildren'. Congratulations, Tel, you're officially a grandchild."

Then she demonstrates her mastery over raven handling. She scoops up Telperius-bird and relocates him to her shoulder. The bird looks oddly happy to be there. "Well, our guardian can accompany us back to the estate," Cor'lana says as she rises from the blanket. "Pothy can't complain about me doting on another bird if he never knows, after all."

"I think he'd understand regardless. He knows Grandfather is probably inclined to keep an eye on us. Can't blame him for that." Telamon stands as well, and begins helping fold the blanket. "Honestly, I half expected Grandfather himself to wander by, but... I guess he's trying to give us space. He knows his loneliness is at an end, that this is going to be a new beginning for him too."

Tel grins at the thought of being a 'grandchild'. "Ever since we met, I think he... had an eye on me. I was a strange bird for him, but I suppose he saw something there -- something worthwhile. Hence why he nudged us toward each other." He smirks. "Gods, that feels like it was a lot longer back than less than a year."

Cor'lana is halfway focused between cleaning up and halfway focused on giving Telperius-bird affection, scratching his throat feathers and getting more of those happy raven-purrs. Eventually, raven love wins out in the end once the blanket is packed up and the basket is around her arm again. "Grandfather, I think, just knows better than to impose on us in the middle of our honeymoon," she says. "He was married once, too."

She looks at Telamon and gives him a grin. "He only had an eye on you because he figured out before I did that I had feelings for you. I am thankful for that more than anything."

Cor'lana leans up on her toes and pecks him on the lips. Then she takes his arm, flashing him a grin. "I feel the same way," she says. "I'm hoping that means the rest of our lives together feels truly long and satisfying."

The half-elves return to the estate to do just that--live their lives.