To Grandfather's House We Go

Log Info

• Title: To Grandfather's House We Go

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon, Verna

• Place: Gates of Alexandria / Abode of the Feathered One, somewhere in Quelynos

• Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon are taking a trip to Quelynos with their recently-feytouched friend, Verna, to visit Ravenstongue's fey ancestor, Alud'rigan, the Feathered One, aka 'Grandfather'. They land in the forest some distance away and make their way to Grandfather's house with the help of a friendly bird. Cor'lana and Telamon inspect the nursery and admire Grandfather's home while Verna admires the books.

Outside of the City of Alexandria, morning.

It's a strange feeling to be outside of the walls of the City of Alexandria for any reason these days, with the wight issues preventing most people from leaving for any sane reason.

But adventurers get a special 'pass', as "they know the danger and consent to it" is the reason that's generally accepted in the populace of Alexandria. So, Cor'lana departs this day wearing the fine dress that she wore to meet the Queen of Air and Darkness, and Pothy is on her shoulder, too. (In truth, the bird would never have let her go alone if she could help it.)

"Verna and I discussed this," she tells Telamon as she hooks her arm around his. "If anyone can get us safely to Grandfather's house, it's her, I think."

Pothy shifts uneasily on Cor'lana's bare shoulder--the dress stays up only thanks to the power of boning in the bodice that bares a goodly portion of Cor'lana's chest--and he croaks, "Don't get lost," in Cor'lana's voice.

Telamon is dressed elegantly, just as Cor'lana is. A snowy white ruffled shirt, over black leather trousers tucked into well-polished, buckled boots. But the circlet on his brow and the haversack slung around his shoulder denote that he's not going out empty handed. "As long as we stay within sight of the city walls... until we 'jump', that is... we should be safe. Nothing cramps a wight quite like getting hit by a long-range spell or a ballista bolt. Hence why I made sure the guards knew how we were dressed, how many in the party, and so on."

Tel rakes a hand through his hair. "Wouldn't be such a worry if we didn't have to concern ourselves with roaming werecreatures or undead. But then, that's true of life in general." He gives Lana a broad smile. "Hopefully this trip won't be as unpleasant as the last one," he adds.

Verna's attire has seen a significant shift in recent times. Most stark is the lack of gray cloak over gray robes in favor of more... casual sundresses. For this occasion, however, she is more formally dressed; in as much as her wardrobe allows. An asymmetric maroon dress hangs from one shoulder. While it is not as exposing and/or gravity-defying as Cor'lana's, its cut hugs her form snugly in full antithesis to voluminous, drab robes.

"Indeed," she concurs on all counts, though most thoroughly on Telamon's last. "I much desire to have a venture made memorable for more pleasant reasons." Her current track record on visits to other realms is rather poor.

Cor'lana unlinks her arm out from Telamon's and instead takes his hand. She nods as she considers Verna's words. "I believe this will go well," she says. "After all, we're going to Quelynos for a much nicer reason than the past time I've gone, and the past two times Telamon has gone."

Pothy shivers a little on Cor'lana's shoulder. It's high summer, of course, and there's no reason at all to be shivering from the cold as there is none to be had, but the poor thing shivers anyway. Cor'lana turns her head and kisses Pothy on his fluffy little head. "Sweet boy, I know," she coos softly. "We'll be okay, I promise."

She holds out her hand to Verna once Pothy's placated through the power of kisses and soft words. "Whenever you're ready," she says.

Telamon's fingers lock with Lana's. "And we know where we're going. That makes a difference, I think. I do hope Grandfather is expecting us, though; he strikes me as the sort to get grumpy with uninvited guests." His dark eyes twinkle, as he squeezes Cor'lana's hand, and he smiles at Pothy. "You have us with you, Pothy. It'll be fine."

His eyes move to Verna. "Maybe we'll get lucky and run into Tanith again. That'll be entertaining -- if distracting." He grins. "That dragon eats as much as Pothy does."

Verna nods to the trio, though takes a moment to inhale and exhale slowly. "All will be well," she repeats, as if to aid in the assurance (even if to herself). "Tanith would be a welcome sight, just as you are, Apotheosis." She had not formally welcomed him back previously and does so now.

She then takes Cor'lana's hand with one of her own before other begins to gesture. As she focuses, she glances to Cor'lana's tattoo. Perhaps a helpful symbol of their destination. Probably a provocation of thoughts concerning neckline options for Aura. Possibly as entertaining a distraction as Pothy or Tanith might be.

And then the world shifts.

GAME: Verna casts Plane Shift. Caster Level: 19 DC: 22

The walls of Alexandria are gone. The blue sky overhead is gone. The light of Daeus is gone.

It is all replaced by towering forests, trees with branches that seem to interweave and entwine around each other as they reach into the sky to embrace. A strange color in the sky reminds one of the orange-violet haze of sunset on a day that is on the cusp of seasons... but somehow, more. There's a chill crisp in the air that feels like fall, yet it feels like the cold go right down to the bone at any minute--like a sword waiting to fall onto the neck.

Cor'lana's violet eyes twinkle in the light that comes through the dark leaves on the trees. She takes in a breath of Quelynos air and it exhales in pure joy and laughter. For a moment, she leans into Telamon and squeezes him tightly. "Sorry," she murmurs. "I just... I'm always so happy to be here. Even the last time, I felt..."

Whatever Cor'lana had to say is interrupted by a croak. One that doesn't come from Pothy.

Indeed, there's a bird up in the tree closest to them. It stares down at them with violet eyes that look rather like Grandfather's, glowing in the dark shade provided by the tree. It looks somewhat like a strange mixture between an owl and a raven. "Lana," it croaks, in Grandfather's voice.

Then another croak off in another direction. Another bird. "Lana."

More croaks, all around the group. It feels like the forest is coming alive. "Lana. Lana. Lana! Lana. Lana."

Telamon staggers a little as the trio are vaulted through the planes to land in Quelynos. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," he admits with a grin. He straightens up, still holding Lana's hand, giving her a squeeze as she leans into him. "Well, it's definitely Quelynos. Good aim, Verna."

He straightens the ruffles of his shirt a touch, before inspecting himself to make sure everything came with him, including equipment and limbs. "Alright. Now..." and then he's cut off by the croaking call. As it spreads, the voice of Grandfather echoing around them, he remarks, "Well, if he didn't know we were here before, he should certainly know now..."

Verna may be in control of their planar transition. She may be comparatively seasoned with such transitions, even those she does not control. All that said, expecting the disorientation does not make one immune to said disorientation. A few blinks and she looks about. "Thank you. I must note that reaching the desired plane is less the challenge than reaching the desired vicinity within said plane. An infinitely large target is not difficult to strike; it is the pinhead upon such that is."

Her posture promptly tenses and tightens at the sudden sounds, despite the voice, form, and words uttered all being quite familiar. "I am far more concerned of others, or other effects, than of your grandfather." AFter a heartbeat, she adds, "No offense intended to him and his domain, of course."

Cor'lana turns away from Telamon and looks around at the birds that are croaking her name. She blinks a couple of times, and she tries to listen to Verna, but is clearly struggling considering the chorus that's all around her.

So she looks at the violet-eyed bird closest to her and says, "Shhh, I'm trying to listen to Verna."

The bird stops croaking. And then the rest follow suit. The forest is quiet again.

"Thank you," Cor'lana says, like she completely expected that to happen. In fact, she smiles widely about it in a rather self-satisfied manner. Then she nods to Verna and says, "Grandfather can take care of himself. He turned down the Queen's offer to be one of her Ravens--nobody ever does that. And he's fine. So I wouldn't be worried."

She looks back up to the raven-ish bird and says, "Can you lead me to Grandfather's house?"

The bird puffs up all of its feathers in a rather proud manner. There's a quiet murmuring of what sounds like envious bird noises from the other birds hidden in the tree branches as the bird descends onto the ground. It stares at Pothy for a moment, before it gives the group a nod.

And then it ambles off through the woods. Maybe it's more accurately described as a strut.

"We should follow him," Cor'lana says. "Her. It." She stares at the bird for a moment longer. "Him," she declares, almost authoritatively. "Don't ask me how I know, I just do. We should hold each other's hands so we don't get lost on the way."

Telamon nods. "Even if this is Grandfather's domain, probably wouldn't do to get lost here. Let's not annoy him by getting split up." He takes Lana's hand, and Verna's if needed, as the trio get ready to follow the strutting bird. "He looks like the child in school who just completed his examinations perfectly, doesn't he?" he quips.

Looking around as they progress, he wonders, "How many ancestors of yours have wandered these woods, Lana? Exploring, growing, living under Grandfather's wing?"

Verna had not noticed whether she had released Cor'lana's hand already, but promptly finds it again if she had. In a rather ...clinging fashion, at that. "I defer to your knowledge and familiarity in this matter..." Her words are unsteady with unease. Filling her lack of Quelynos-specific lore at present are morsels from all manner of other recalled tales, if vague and crudely amalgamated: travels through dark woods to a grandparent's house; a group of three little individuals; large evil wolves; breadcrumbs; and so on. None of which ended well for the travelers, as she seems to recall. "Yes, I would very much prefer we not lose our way."

"We won't," Cor'lana says in a chipper manner as she holds onto both Telamon and Verna's hands. The traveling trio walks through the woods, to Grandfather's house they go...

And it turns out to be a while. It's difficult to measure the passage of time through Quelynos, as the sky overhead in Grandfather's forest never changes color, which is why 'a while' is the best possible descriptor.

But eventually, the trio approach a clearing as they follow the strutting bird. The clearing is home to gardens of flowers and plants that seem immaculately taken care of, their colors bright and their flowers and produce plump and full. And there's the tree home in the center of the clearing--a very large tree with a door waiting at its base.

And the door swings open.

Alud'rigan, the Feathered One, steps out of the tree home. Here, one can feel the weight of his presence--it's palpable, like an energy in the air. His face is not normally easy to display emotions on, but he smiles a wide and warm smile as he sees the trio. "Welcome home, my little one," he says.

Cor'lana stops in place for a moment. Tears immediately blossom in her eyes and run down her face. She lets go of both Telamon and Verna as she races over to her fey ancestor and flings herself into his arms.

Grandfather catches her, of course, and he swings her around in the air in those monstrous, taloned claws of his--his true form not hiding that aspect of his. He laughs so melodically as he brings Cor'lana in for a very tight hug, followed by a kiss to his forehead. "You are home, and you are safe, my little one," he murmurs to her, and he dries her tears with another brush of his large claws--so gentle with them.

Alud'rigan turns to Telamon and Verna now with a wide smile as he lets go of Cor'lana. "Welcome, Mourner Verna, and the future Telamon Lúpecyll-Atlon, to my humble abode. I'm glad that Telperius led you here safely."

The raven-ish bird croaks and wags his tail. Apparently, Grandfather had named this particular bird after Telamon's father.

Verna observes the scenery as they walk: surely in admiration and not at all out of concern for what might lie in wait within it. Her clutch of Cor'lana's hand is tight with anxious anticipation, regardless. Then it seems that they arrive without incident. Until Alud'rigan exits to greet them, perhaps.

A startling sight, despite Verna having met him, or rather more of an avatar, previously. Further that Lana darts off to greet him. After a moment, she finds her voice and lowers in an awkward bowing curtsey; partly due to her lack of experience in such gestures and partly due to the constraints of her dress. "It is a pleasure and an honor to be welcomed to your domain and presence."

Telamon lets go of Lana's hand so she can charge into Grandfather's embrace, chuckling. "Some things never change, eh Pothy?" There's no sarcasm or opprobrium in his voice, though, only gentle amusement and pleasure that his fiancee is happy. Some things are just important, after all.

He offers a bow to Grandfather when he's acknowledged, returning the smile. "A pleasure to be here 'in the real' as it were, Grandfather. I thank you for your hospitality." At Grandfather's mention of 'Telperius', his eyebrow rises, though his eyes also sparkle in good humor. "You named one of your birds after my father? I'm not sure how I should take that."

Normally thanking a member of the fey would be a faux pas, but Grandfather is, well, used to mortals, and he simply takes Telamon's thanks as a jest, chuckling slightly. "Please, there is no need to be so formal," he says to Verna. "You are one of my little one's friends. And... you are also, in a manner, one of my kind. You belong here in Quelynos as much as any other member of our folk do."

He turns to Telamon. "I name all of my birds after people past and present," Grandfather replies. "Typically after Cor'lana's ancestors that have come to live here, or after literary figures. Since I became... more active in your world, however, I found perfectly good names and used them for my birds in honor of them. It means I have not had to reuse a single name, which I earnestly feared I would have to do someday."

Telperius the bird preens his feathers, a strange medley of dark raven feathers and brown owl feathers. He appears to have no opinion on his name.

"Shall we all step inside?" Alud'rigan offers. "I can prepare a lunch for you while you peruse my home. I have a library of books that may be of interest, and... Well, there's a room that's been waiting for Cor'lana for over two decades now."

Cor'lana's eyes glitter, like she's about to cry again. "Right, the nursery you made for me," she says. "I'd love to see it all."

Verna's cheeks color at the mild reprimand, note of relation, or perhaps both. Uncertain how best to comment, her response is limited to a simple "Ah. Yes, of course." The mention of library does momentarily pique her interest before the shift to that of nursery sparks Cor'lana's renewed glee. "I am intrigued. By all means, we should." She then looks to Cor'lana, then Telamon, deferring entrance priority to the host's family."

Telamon inclines his head, watching Cor'lana as he listens to the explanation. Smiling a bit, as he nods to Verna. "I think that sounds marvelous, Grandfather. We've never really been here before -- except in dreams, for Lana and myself -- and so I'm curious to see what it looks like."

At Lana's eager intent to see the room that was meant for her, Tel moves over to touch her hand gently. "It's been a long road to get here, love," he says to her gently. "But I think it's worth it, in the end."

He follows along with the others, as they enter Grandfather's home.

Alud'rigan opens the door to the tree home. It appears to be much bigger on the inside than the outside. The room that's inside is similar to one that Cor'lana and Telamon have seen before in a dream: a cozy living room with a fireplace inside of it built from clay. "First time I've had to use that in a while," Grandfather comments as he passes by the fireplace, flicking his hand out to it. The mere motion makes the fireplace leap to life, flames flickering inside and providing warmth to the mortals that likely would appreciate it. This part of Quelynos, after all, appears to be a chilly place.

There's a large rocking chair like the one in Telamon and Cor'lana's home, but this one has all manner of scrawlings and scribblings on it. Names of children who have lived here and grown up under the watchful eyes of their fey patriarch, all trying to practice their letters and deciding to add to Grandfather's rocking chair in fits of what must have been feytouched mischief. One can also spy messages in poorly spelled Sylvan that effectively translate to "I luv yu, Granpa." Cor'lana looks at the rocking chair fondly as she passes by it, her eyes going up, up, and up...

The living room plays host to a large library, as well. It goes all the way up the tree, the walls of the room lined by shelves and shelves of books. But there are no stairs--one would have to fly to retrieve books that are out of reach, or simply use magic to bring a book down.

There are four doors out of the room. This is another fact that seems familiar to Cor'lana, but she pauses at one that is labeled by a wooden sign as 'Lúpecyll-Atlon'. "You did change it," she remarks to Grandfather.

"I did," Grandfather says. "That is the name of my mortal bloodline going forward. A beautiful union, might I add."

He disappears through a door marked as being for the kitchen, allowing the trio their space to look around. Cor'lana looks at Verna and Telamon, smiling. "Well," she says, "we have the run of the place. Shall we poke about?"

Telamon runs his fingertips along the battered rocking chair, looking at the scribbles. Every scrawl, every misspelled word, a memory. He takes a deep breath, the weight of it pushing at him for a moment -- but only for a moment, as he straightens his shoulders.

When Alud'ringan vanishes into the kitchen, he looks at Lana. "He loved them. All of them. All those children. He's not perfect -- but then, neither are we -- but I think I sympathize with him even more now."

Tel steps away from the chair, looking at the door marked 'Lúpecyll-Atlon' before glancing at Lana. "Raid the library? Or check out our rooms first?" he inquires with a grin.

Verna takes in all that she can, though her eyes undeniably rise up the interior of the trunk along the rows upon rows of shelves. "I am awed, envious, and of a mind that our own home may require more library space..." The lighting of the hearth is welcome, and the chair and its decoration are both comforting in a ... homey sense, but tomes shall ever be near and dear to her heart. Perhaps too much so.

At Telamon's inquiry, she manages to drag her focus back to him, Cor'lana, and the other marked room. "Perhaps the room would be best. Raiding the library, presuming it permitted, might require a millenium or two."

Cor'lana smiles and nods tenderly to Telamon's sentiment regarding the rocking chair and her fey patriarch. Her eyes really do seem to be threatening to conjure more tears at any moment--what a precarious situation to be in, to be overcome by such love. "He did love them," she says. "And he loves me, too."

Pothy, however, takes flight. He'd hopped off Cor'lana's shoulder in the middle of her running to Grandfather outside and chosen to tail behind the group. He may not strut as proudly as the bird named Telperius might, but he can fly, and it appears the books have piqued his interest about as much as they piqued Verna's. "He's probably going for the cookbooks," Cor'lana mutters, before she looks to Verna and nods. "I think Grandfather wouldn't mind perusing the books, but as you said, it'd take a very long while to get through all of them. Let's go look at the room."

Cor'lana twists open the doorknob that leads into the Lúpecyll-Atlon room. She lingers for a long moment at the doorway and wipes the tears that finally have made their way down her cheeks again. Then she finally walks more fully into the room.

It's surprisingly like the vine-decorated rooms of the Lúpecyll-Atlon home. The nursery has a cradle in it that is decorated with vines. There's a lovingly knitted blanket that rests in the cradle knitted from a pastel purple, a letter 'C' embroidered into the blanket with a duplicate-stitch in black yarn. Tucked underneath the blanket is a little plush of a black raven with purple eyes, knitted just as lovingly and as expertly as the blanket.

There's a bookshelf, too, containing a variety of books in what appears to be fairly old Sildanyari titles in addition to Sylvan. The books look very worn and, if picked up, look like they have been rebound several times. A box of toys in the corner reveals all manner of plush animals. Not a single sharp edge can be found in the room, nothing that could have possibly hurt baby Cor'lana.

Who is now here, as a grown adult, and is wiping her tears away. "This would have been a wonderful place to grow up," she murmurs.

Telamon follows Lana into the room, and when she has to wipe her tears away, he comes up next to her and puts his arms around her. "I know," he says. "Will you forgive me for being glad life got in the way? That I got to meet you?" He looks out at the furnishings, the cradle, the toys unused. And yet... "Still... we might yet have the chance to be here. For a child to sleep in that cradle."

He kisses Lana's brow, and smiles at Verna's sally about the library. "Tell me about it. You could spend the rest of your days here, paging through tome after tome. You'd never realize the time going past till you realized you needed to eat something." He laughs softly, and gives Lana a squeeze.

Cor'lana leans into Telamon as he wraps his arms around her, smiling a little as he speaks. She sniffles before she says, "Of course I'd forgive you," she says. "If everything I ever went through was because I had to meet and fall in love with you, I'd gladly do it all over again, Telamon."

She turns around in his arms so that she can face him, putting herself underneath Telamon's chin as she so commonly does. "One day," she says. "I'd like that very much. Even if it was only for a visit with our children--or to watch our visiting grandchild sleep in it. So many babies have slept in that cradle, I imagine."

Cor'lana wraps her arms around Telamon and gives him a squeeze back before she releases him, pulling back enough to look up at him. "Speaking of eating, I wonder what Grandfather is making," she says. "I hope he had the sense to use mortalbound ingredients. Wouldn't want you or Verna to lose the ability to taste things."

Telamon tucks Lana under his chin as she embraces him, stroking her hair and nuzzling her fondly. "Then we'll have to do that, then." He kisses the top of her head, letting her cling for long moments, before letting go so he can look down at her in turn.

"Grandfather's no fool. I can't see him making that kind of mistake, especially after he's spent so much time on the mortal plane." His arm around Lana's shoulders, as the two step out again. "Although I think Verna may be in love with all the books. Can't blame her too much, though. It's like all the stories I've read about libraries in the high heavens, where every book ever written can be found."

Cor'lana grins at Telamon. "I'm sure," she says. "I don't think Grandfather has every book ever in his collection, but there's certainly some old ones there that would probably make all the librarians in Alexandria giddy with glee."

Her gaze goes back over to the toybox with stuffed toys. Cor'lana gasps as she notices something in the pile--and she pulls it out. A flumph plushie, noodly appendages and all. "There it is!" she says. "Grandfather said he had one of these in the nursery, remember? He knitted it for one of my ancestors here."

"Can you really blame them? Most librarians do tend to have an intensely personal interests in books, and any well-preserved collection is going to pique their interest." Telamon chuckles softly. "Still, it's definitely a good way to while away an afternoon... or a week."

When Lana unearths the flumph toy from the toybox, he blinks. "So he did. Definitely an unusual toy -- that must've been an unusual ancestor."

His eyes twinkle as he looks at the tentacled plush toy, squinting at it. "I wonder what the Watcher would make of it. I hope he wouldn't be offended by it."

Cor'lana snickers a little at Telamon's comment regarding the Watcher. "That gives me an idea, Telamon," she says. "You said the Watcher influenced your ancestor so that you eventually would be born, right? I can't help but wonder... Perhaps he, too, influenced that one ancestor of mine. Or did it by accident. Perhaps he has an interest in our bloodlines converging."

She flashes an even wider grin at Telamon. "Granted, we've joked before any child of ours could end up the first Emperor of all Ea. Maybe he does want that to happen."

Pothy flaps into the nursery, landing on the cradle. He looks at the plushie tucked under the blanket, and he looks at Cor'lana with a flat look. "You would have missed out on having me as a little brother," he says, "if you grew up here." Apparently, his true voice can be understood by all here. One has to wonder if perhaps the home is warded in a similar manner to the Lúpecyll-Atlon home.

Cor'lana gives Pothy a warm smile. "You're right, Pothy," she says. "That would have been the worst."

Telamon shakes his head. "Surely the Watcher would've said something... no, I suspect it's happenstance. Sometimes things don't happen for a reason -- they really are blind chance." He studies the plush toy in his hands, before handing it back to Lana.

When Pothy comes in, he nods. "Very true. So I guess we're both grateful things turned out the way they did, even if the road was rough." He reaches out to pet Pothy gently. "Been chitchatting with some of Grandfather's pinioned minions out there?"

Pothy leans in and accepts the love from Telamon. That much hasn't changed about Pothy whatsoever. "Briefly," he said. "They're weird. They all kept wanting to know what Lana's favorite food was, if she liked shiny things, etcetera. I think if we stick around long enough, they might start pelting Lana with gifts."

Cor'lana takes the flumph plush back from Telamon and stows it away in the toybox. It'll get played with by a future Lúpecyll-Atlon eventually--however many years from now it takes. She can't help but snicker a little at Pothy's comments. "Oh no, how horrible, you have competition for my love," she says, looking at Pothy. "Don't worry. You have my familial love, as does Grandfather, and Telamon has..." She flushes a little as she finds the words to say. "Everything else."

"I'd sure hope so, or Alud'rigan will never get his Lúpecyll-Atlon child to fawn over," Pothy replies. At least he isn't running away at the merest implication of lovey-dovey nonsense anymore.

Telamon nods. "I imagine they are... influenced by Grandfather's own interest in his great-great-whatever grandchild. Perhaps vying for favor, by trying to please Lana." He shrugs lightly. "There are worse things."

"In any case, I'm sure there will be Lúpecyll-Atlon children in time. If we can ever have the wedding." He reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. Just... frustrated. Sometimes, the world doesn't behave, and you have to adapt to it. It's just infuriating. And I know there are people in danger, people who've lost almost everything, and I should be a little more gracious, but..."

Tel looks at Lana, his heart in his eyes. "I can't help but feel a little selfish when it comes to you, love."

Cor'lana can't help but look at Telamon with a look to match his. It's hard not to, when the love of her life is saying such sweet words to her. "I understand, my starborn prince," she replies, using Sylvan as she usually does to sweet-talk to him. "You're ready to call yourself my husband. And I've been ready for a while now to call myself your wife."

She draws closer to him and wraps him into her arms. "We'll get there. Eventually, we'll get there. Frankly, if I learn how to by then, I've been sorely tempted by the thought of just teleporting everyone to the Mythwood and back for the wedding. The wights can't catch us if we aren't anywhere near them."

Pothy regards the embracing pair with a bit of a sad look in his blue eyes. "I'm glad you two are together," he murmurs. "I'll... go check on Grandfather. And see if he needs help taste-testing anything."

He flies out of the nursery, leaving the two half-elves alone.

Telamon hugs Lana tightly again. "Yeah, at this rate we might as well shell out for teleportation circle trips for people. Or do it ourselves, like you said." He sighs. "When we finally throw them back, though, I think a lot of people will be happy to find out there's weddings in store. Celebration of life and continuation, that sort of thing."

When Pothy flits out, Tel looks pained. "He's still hurting. And it's hard as hells to know what's hurting him." He sighs. "I wish we could help more, beyond simply being his friends and family."

Cor'lana looks after Pothy as he flies out. She frowns, too, looking up at Telamon. "It's... Well, it hurts me, too," she says. "But, well, take it from me. There are things that are too painful to discuss, especially so soon after it happened. Like... what I gave up to the Queen of Air and Darkness." There's a pain in her words, too--it's obvious to know what she's talking about. "I enjoy living these days, more than anything. But when I was younger..."

She shakes her head. Some words are better not said aloud. "Pothy will come to us for aid when he's ready," she says. "All we can do is to be open to him when he needs us to be. There was nothing anyone could have done for me before I decided to just move and go to Alexandria--it took me deciding to do something about it for the first real steps into healing."

He nods, resting his cheek against hers. "The first step in healing like that has to come from within. I just hope he understands that we're here when he's ready to take those steps." He takes a deep breath, enjoying the closeness even with the subject of conversation being so hard.

"Alright, enough. I won't be a raincloud on this trip. And you're not allowed to be one either." He takes Lana's hand, and kisses it with a smile. "Shall we go see what Grandfather is cooking? I'm not so much worried as I am curious as to what he's up to."

Cor'lana smiles tenderly at Telamon, the raincloud successfully dispelled from hanging over her head in the metaphorical sense. Such is what usually happens whenever Telamon kisses her hand like a lady. (She is one, if one considers her descent from the fey nobleman in the next room to qualify her for such.)

"I'd love to see what Grandfather's up to," she replies. "But, first..."

She lets go of Telamon and walks over to the raven plushie that's been waiting in the cradle for over twenty years for her to come home. She gently lifts it up into the air. There's not a speck of dust on the fiber-critter, nor on anything else in the room. It's likely an effect of enchantments on the house, but there's a certain appeal in the idea that Grandfather's kept the place clean in an obsessive ideal that one day, his grandchild will come home.

And she has.

"Thank you for waiting," she tells the little raven plush, before she gives it a kiss on its head, squeezes it in a hug, and puts it back into the cradle and tucks it underneath the blanket. "But you'll have to wait a while longer. You'll make a fabulous toy for one of our children one day."

She turns back to Telamon and says, "Maybe one of our children's names should start with a C. That way, the little blanket still means something..."

Cor'lana walks with Telamon out of the nursery that should have been hers--and may, one day, house one of their children.