It seems reasonable that, after Brennan has danced a bit with Cambina, spoken with Jovian, and danced a bit more, that Brennan would ask Lilly for a dance as well.
It's amazing how gracefully they can move, and keep all those damned blades from banging against each other and getting in the way, I'd bet. And I bet they get a really wide clearance on the floor.
"Enjoying the evening, Dame Dragon?"
"So far it has been agreeable. Of course that is causing me no end of worry. Sooner or later I know something needs to happen to keep this coronation from being too perfect." Thankfully Brennan has spent enough time with Lilly to know that despite the straight delivery the comment is being made (mostly) in jest.
"Evening ain't over yet," he drawls. "Give it time." A mischievous glint appears in his eye. "For instance, Daeon's not here yet."
Lilly's eyes reflect that glint straight back to Brennan. "Hmmm... true enough. After the outfit he wore on our last outing I can only imagine what he might come up with for an event such as this."
Brennan shudders visibly. Perhaps even exaggeratedly.
"The mind scarcely has the courage to boggle," he says.
Brennan thinks he hears a sound comes from Lilly that sounds rather suspiciously like laughter. And it was rather girlish laughter at that. Perhaps it was some trick of the ballroom. Or maybe, just maybe, her stoicism was beginning to give way.
"It is perhaps a good thing Vialle is blind. One could only imagine her expression if he were to enter the ball sky clad. Half the people here would be wisely running in fear I am sure."
"Doesn't matter. She'd know. Somehow, she'd just... know," Brennan says. On a more serious note, though, he continues, "Sooner or later, someone has to bite the bullet and see where those flowers lead," he says. "Since it doesn't look like it's on anyone else's To-Do List, that leaves us."
'Us' in this context is pretty obviously the set of people with ruby decoder rings.
"I see onto serious business are we? All right." Lilly takes a moment to pull forth the proper information from her mind. "Those flowers are in some way my responsibility. They were born through my actions after all. So if no one else is willing then I shall go." Lilly's delivery is calm, even, very matter of fact. Obviously she has given this some thought.
Brennan has the grace not to shrug while dancing with his cousin.
"I didn't want to get into the whole thing, actually. Just wanted to mention it, with the intent of rounding the bunch of us up at a more appropriate time. Perhaps before we're all assigned new tasks by Random. Better to get forgiveness than permission, after all."
There's still a glint in his eyes-- just a different one, now.
"Agreed. And even if Random does not shuffle the deck, his Queen might. It will be interesting to she how she will handle her time in regency. From what I understand the politic climate in which she was raised is far different from the one here in Amber."
"Yeah. I've been trying not to think about that, but you're probably right. All the more reason to come to our collective decision and implement it, before we're told not to."
Lilly answers with a very slight nod. She does not want to interfere with the dance after all.
Having injected the one bit business business he wanted to get across, Brennan is happy to go back to lighter conversation if Lilly is.
Perhaps surprisingly Lilly seems content to revert to small talk. Her smile seems to be showing itself quite a bit more tonight then usually. If Brennan listens closely enough he might even hear her laugh once again.
[We can end thread or not as you prefer. But Brennan needs to practice making small talk. He's not good at it.]
[He isn't? Lilly hadn't noticed. That may be because she is somewhat worse though... <g>]
"How are your duties with the Queen finding you? For that matter, how is the Queen? I haven't really had the chance to talk with her."
For Brennan that's small talk. It's pretty obvious from tone and body language that he's not pressing for any particular information, just making conversation.
"It is not an all together boring job. And it gives me time to pursue other interests. Which is something I am grateful for. It is also something of a learning opportunity, Vialle and I are far different people with far different concerns. That's not always a bad thing though. I'm certain you can understand that." Evidently Lilly is feeling down right chatty tonight. Or maybe her attempts at small talk merely lead to rambling.
"Actually, that's a job I'd really want to be boring. I take it she's not fighting you or making the job more difficult than it needs to be?"
"No. She has been most cooperative. It will be interesting to see if that changes once she is the Regent."
"I've been trying to forget about that. Which is very difficult, since I'm also trying to figure out what motivated that at the same time. I do wish His Majesty would deign to inform his Knights Commander about his plans. They might be able to help him.
Lilly finds her smile once more. Sometimes it was good to not be the only properly paranoid person in Amber.
[Brennan]
"But, all the better reason to get done what we need to get done. And
leave enough here to assist in what needs assisting, if possible.
Still, from what little I've seen of her, she may be more reasonable
than Random in that regard."
"That would depend. If Vialle believes it is for your best interest she will aid you in every way possible. However, I have the distinct feeling that if she feels you may be hurt or endangered or in any way compromised by a particular action she will do all she can to ensure your well being. I suppose many would consider those to be good qualities."
Brennan's lips never move, but I bet Lilly can imagine him stage-muttering, "I'm not one of 'em," with great accuracy.
"But you and I are in our own ways both warriors. We know danger and hardship can not and should not always be avoided. Still I may be wrong and things may go smoothly."
"Well, we'll just have to make things go smoothly. That's what we're here, for right?" He gives a bright grin more Bleysian than he realizes. "So it must apply to us, too!"
In a more serious mode, he adds, "So much of managing up the chain of command is in the Fourth Rule. We better be careful-- one day the Knights are going to be using that tactic on us."
The mischievous glint makes another appearance in Lilly's eyes. "I remember Jade would complain when I was a child that the worst thing about raising an intelligent child was the constant danger of being out smarted. We just need to insure we never name a knight who is smarter then I am. That should take care of things."
"Not even if you meant smarter-alecked...."
There is a smile in Lilly's expression even if it is absent from her lips. Then without much notice, there is a slight change of subject. "I do have more to deal with then just the King and his Queen. I suspect my father has plans for me as well. He can be like that sometimes. It seems I may have to take up juggling."
"There does seem to be quite a lot of that going around," Brennan says with an understated scowl of sympathy. "It's a condition from which I find myself blissfully exempt. So far." He looks as though he'd knock on wood if there were any in reach, and it wouldn't disrupt the flow of the dance. "If you should find that becoming a problem, let me know. I don't know what I could do, exactly, but something might present itself."
"I'll keep that in mind." Obviously Lilly has absolutely no idea what good it would do either but for the moment she is willing to keep an open mind. At the very least Brennan could serve in the capacity of friendship. Every needed a shoulder to lean on now and again.
Then, on related serious note, touching on prior business, "I should note, their Royal Highnesses aren't the only ones I haven't bothered to ask or inform, yet." By sheer happenstance, a white-garbed, winged Masquerader happens to be in Lilly's field of view when Brennan says that.
"Ah." Lilly stiffens slightly. Uncle Julian still managed to make her uncomfortable. Her almost killing his son had gotten their relationship off to something of a bad start. "It is still possible that he has a few of the answers we seek. He is not however exactly forthcoming with his knowledge though I've noticed."
The Fox gives his vulpine grin. "Partly covered, cousin. That base is partly covered already. His other son is a partner in crime, remember."
The Huntress strides across the Grande Hall toward the garden doors on what is probably another of her 'escape to open air' breaks. Her bow is tucked away and her hands are swinging freely at her sides as her stride bounces her whitened hair. When suddenly her green eyes catch something amidst the glittering swirling crowd of the Masquerade, and she practically screeches to a halt on her golden sandals. The girl cranes her head and a curious croon emerges from her lips.
Then a nearby mountainous swirl of hair and veils shifts again, and yes! There in a far corner of the crowd. The woman -- what was her name?, Robin remembers being introduced some eternity ago, something about welcomes and dresses. The ranger remembers that Lady.... oh something that begins with F, smelled nice in an artificial sort of way and wasn't as bad as the rest of them. Though what she's wearing tonight - phew! The ranger's glad she's not in that get-up.
The man, however, hah! Despite the drinks in his hands and the flirting, nothing can disguise that long drink of water from Robin. The exuberant hunting call of a hawk pierces the air of the Grande Hall before Robin even knows she's let it loose. Her face lit with joy, eyes bright and raptor sharp. Like a falcon over the trees, the Huntress is all wings, talons and speed as she stoops across the crowds of the Masquerade.
Vista's about to be snatched up into the hug of his life.
Vista smoothly hands off both of his glasses to the lady he's standing with and accepts Robin's embrace whole-heartedly, picking the girl completely up off the ground, laughing.
"Robin! Sweet green, we thought we'd lost you when we left!"
Laughter and tears paint Robin's face and it's a while before the croons and whistles shift to actual words. "Vista! Vista, vista, vista." Okay, not real sensible words.
Robin's joy is incandescent as she bumps the man under the chin with her head. Her grip on the ranger is strong and in his arms, Robin obviously has no relationship with the ground. "Missed you. Missed you soooo much!"
From across the room an oriental dragon turns his head from the lovely sunflower he was chatting with at the strange sounds that echo through the Great Hall. He watches the embrace and understands, and turns back to his conversation with a warmer smile than before.
Vista certainly doesn't notice the dragon. It's hard for him to notice much of anything other than the girl he's embracing. He hangs on to her for longer than propriety probably dictates he should before releasing her and holding her at arms' length.
"Look at you," he says. "All grown up. Prince Julian must be so proud."
Smart man! Vista is obviously an experienced Robin wrangler. By holding the Ranger out at arm's length, the girl is limited to an answering nose-scrunch and tongue-sticking-out, as opposed to a thump in the upper arm. But she's laughing merrily.
"Ah, you're just happy you're off diaper-duty, Vista." She teases merrily. There's something familiar about the phrase, like an old joke shared between old friends.
Remembering his manners, he says, "Do you remember Matthew, out of No-Sun, who died in the burning? Lady Hardwind here is his mother's sister." He indicates the woman he's been speaking with.
"Sure. Matthew." She smiles to Vista's companion. "Wry sense of humor. Terrific whistler. Very sneaky." Then her face falls, "Brave man. We all miss him."
"Lady Hardwind, this is Prince Julian's daughter, Lady Robin."
"Lady Hardwind." Robin bows. "Pleased to meet... uh, have we been introduced before?" The girl's brows furrow as she tries to track down those elusive memories from the gray times.
The woman makes a little laugh as if Robin has made a joke. "Solange introduced us, but she may not have used my title. She calls me Aunt Felicity; my sister Grace was her foster-mother."
She adds, "I'm pleased to renew the acquaintance, Lady Robin."
"I'm pleased to renew the acquaintance as well, Lady Hardwind." The Huntress shakes her head ruefully at herself. "Please forgive me my memory. Those days... I wasn't... the Castle can be a little overwhelming at first exposure." Robin finishes with a bashful shrug. Not much she can say, that's the way it was.
"Many people find it so," Lady Hardwind says sympathetically. "I remember when I was presented to King Oberon; I was so terrified that dear Fleet had to tell me afterwards what I'd said."
Vista laughs at the thought. "Oh, I can't imagine that."
"It's true," she says, laughing with him, and turns back to Robin. "You'll get used to it in time. At least His Majesty is a little less intimidating than his father was."
"I'll have to take your word for it, Lady." She smiles with a bashful chuckle. "About both the time and the His Majesties."
She cocks her head, bright eyes looking between Hardwind and Vista. A grin spreads across Robin's face. "If I may, how long have you known each other?"
"I met Vista through my dear sister Grace," Lady Hardwind says, and looks downcast for a moment.
Vista adds, "She was talking to Admiral Worth this evening, and it seemed a fine time to renew the acquaintance."
As Lady Hardwind saddens Robin nods with a flat line to her lips. The burning, it scarred all it touched. "Well, at least there seems to be some renewing at this coronation." The ranger finds a hopeful smile from somewhere inside herself to share with Lady Hardwind.
Then she raises a speculative eyebrow to Vista. Friends outside of the rangers? Imagine that. And she's been outed anyway. Well, maybe if she takes it slowly.
But what does one do with someone who isn't a ranger? "Do you... hunt, Lady Hardwind?"
"I don't get out to the country to do that sort of thing often any more. But I used to hawk a little in Garnath, and we'd ride to the hounds occasionally. It's not something I suppose a Ranger would think much of, but it was an amusing pastime for those of us who come from the city," Lady Hardwind says.
"Hawks and hounds are good in any quantity." Robin smiles. "What kind of wing did you fly?" Besides struggling for small talk, the ranger is actually interested. This is something that she can actually talk about. For hours. (Though Leslie is pretty much clueless. ;)
Lady Hardwind can talk about it for quite a while as well. What she thinks of as hunting is closer to aristocratic fox-hunting than what Robin and Vista are used to doing. Unlike modern fox-hunting, however, the sort of hunting Lady Hardwind is used to does actually result in food on the table, as does her hawking.
Vista's comments indicate some familiarity with the kind of hunting Lady Hardwind is describing, but not enough to suggest he's done a lot of it, especially recently.
Robin's seen hunting parties like that, so she contributes as she can, much more so on the actual care and use of hawks, falcons, etc. Robin tends to larger raptors herself, though she's familiar with smaller birds as well. As she talks, she occasionally slips into whistles and calls to illustrate a point.
Her familiarity with hounds is less than her familiarity with hawks (the ranger doesn't bark or growl when discussing canines) but she still has a prodigious knowledge base.
After a long while talking though, Robin starts looking for an opportunity to dance with Vista without making Lady Hardwind feel as though Robin has pried him away from the her.
Which opportunity Lady Hardwind contrives to make for Robin about two seconds after she decides it's time to dance.
"Is that Harmony Vesper I see over there? Dear me, it is. I absolutely have to tell her how lovely Solace looks this evening. Do excuse me, Lady Robin, Vista. I'll have to catch up with you later." The last seems more particularly addressed to Vista.
And then Lady Hardwind is gone.
Leaving Robin blinking, startled, at the sudden vacuum. She turns to Vista with an amazed laugh. "Do I have 'Dance with me' tattooed on my forehead, Vista?"
Vista's looking after Lady Hardwind with a smile on his face. "To her, probably." He offers Robin his arm. "It's not so merry as the dances we have in Arden, but I'm willing to try what they do here."
"It's not hard." Robin laughs, linking arms with Vista. "Weeelll, actually it's hard not to just leap out of the patterns, but I'm learning." And with that, she practically tows her friend out onto the floor, a big grin on her face.
Vista is an energetic, enthusiastic dancer once he gets the shape of the formal pattern down. He will take several turns to do so, and then is amenable to any conversation Robin may wish to have, or with merely enjoying her company if she wants to concentrate on the dance.
Robin plays with the dance and with Vista, learning the shapes with him, laughing at her own missteps, calling up fond shared memories with gestures and foot-work. There's something almost gamine about the girl, comfortable as she is with an old friend. She gambols, she cavorts, she frolics. She laughs, chuckles and chirrups with abandon, thoroughly enjoying herself.
The girl's 'conversation' seems to be occurring mostly in the free and happy movements of her limbs. She is happy, happy to be with someone she knows and trusts and remembers.
Vista is also happy to share the dance with Robin. Unlike the strange dwellers in this drafty grey dungeon, he understands the young ranger's language. He gets her jokes. He's not as quick a study of the dance as Robin, but he does catch on, and he doesn't care if his steps aren't perfect either.
Paige returns to the hall alone. She aquires a glass of mixed wine and finds herself a convenient target in the sultan who seems to be discussing some sort of syncapation with a musician currently on break, the cigarette in hand an impromptu prop in the explaination.
By the time she's crossed to meet him, she's looking for another glass of wine, should a steward happen by. "An exquisite costume Lord Sultan, and attractive accessories," she says indicating the Queen.
"It takes a bit to pull off an outfit like that." Conspiratorially she adds, "I should know, I've still got one or two somewhere."
"I couldn't impose on you for a cigarette?" she asks.
"Of course. My compliments on your taste and your costumer." He smiles as the musician, a horn player named Stem, fumbles for a smoke to offer to her. "Our costumes were Vialle's idea."
"She's wonderful, yes," Paige agrees. "Ying and I plotted the idea and she just made it come true." She takes the cigarette with a smile and accepts fire from where ever it might come from.
"If Vialle had been far-thinking, I'm sure she could've harangued you a few more harems girls from somewhere," she chuckles. "Of course she might be trying to say something subtle, by not."
Paige slips her arm through the King's allowing him to lead her toward the champagne fountain to refill her obviously empty glass.
"I've heard that several of the family had things to do on the morrow. I was wondering if there were new things in store for me?"
Random leads her as if he could find the fountain in the dark. "Old things, I expect. I need you to keep the wheels of justice squeaking along."
"Suppose I'll have to play nice with Sir Pirate this evening then," Paige nods in Octave's direction. "I can see it now," she says with a chuckle to hide her disappointment. In a low sultry voice she continues, "Shiver my timbers, Cap'n?"
Filling her glass, she draws on the cigarette gently. "It's good to know you've faith in me, and you're not just giving into Julian's demands that I be kept at home."
"Julian is second on the list of 'Royal Brothers who are not allowed to date' only to Corwin. The Royal Will for the King's bench is 'be just between citizens and merciful when the crown can be merciful'. Vialle will handle any appeals that have to come before the crown, but I'd rather not see it get that far. She'll be busy."
Paige nods, "Understood." If it's a little flat, perhaps it's just the bubbly, of which she's finished another glass.
She draws on her cigarette again before continuing. With a exhale of thin smoke that sounds more like a sigh, she says, "For the record, it's over between us, and I don't see anything in the next few millennia that will change that. Nobody should have to worry over his ex- creating problems for him.
"I love him enough to be happy that he's happy, whoever he ends up with," she says sincerely.
"Is he happy? I get mixed signals on that."
"I'd like to think so," she hedges, taking another drag.
Finally, "Yes, I think he is. He's just a discreet man, while not too concerned about his own rep, he's always been concerned for the lady's."
"And it's not exactly the model relationship you two share, not yet. He's going to hold his cards close to his vest with you for a while," she says without judgement.
He smiles. "I shall have to appoint you Minister of Understatement. He's a good kid, and I certainly owe him his autonomy, but our relationship isn't what I'd like. How can we improve it?"
"Whatever role I can serve in, I'm more than willing, but I'm sure the desert sun has gone to the Sultan's head if he thinks this dragon can advise him on relationships with his son," Paige chuckles.
"But if I were going to offer a suggestion it'd be this... give him time to say what he will before accusing him of... well anything and remember that he's smart enough to learn from his mistakes and strong enough to survive them." She fights a quiver in her voice and covers it with a sip of champagne.
"Beyond that, it'll happen on his timetable, when it suits his purposes," she concludes. "How to improve it, I really can't say, other than to treat him as he is, a Prince of Amber. He might belong to the younger generation physically, but where it counts, he's an elder, a Prince."
He smiles. "Hmm. I used to be one of those. They're not all they're cracked up to be. Heh. 'Elder'? Is that what you all call us? That's great. I'll have to pass out canes and walkers at the next family meal."
Paige laughs, genuinely. "I don't think your harem girl will allow it," she offers. "Concerns of offending the Charioteer, you know."
"A dance, later perhaps?" she asks. "The swan told me you were wonderful...
"A wonderful dancer that is." Her smirk is playful but harmless.
Randoms smile is genuine and devoid of artifice. "She is quite the talker. We'll see if she remembers how to tango. Or me, for that matter. I'll save one for you. I've got a few in mind."
Paige bats her eyes innocently, "A few what in mind? I do hope you're not looking for harem girls again."
She's obviously enjoying the conversation and her spirits are noticably better than when she first aquired the cigarette she's now finishing.
"Dance steps, dear girl, dance steps. I try not to do card tricks in public anymore. Beneath my so-called Royal Dignity."
"Wonderful," Paige smirks. "A spin or two around the floor later, and we'll trade card tricks in private... when your harem's not so full.
"I'd be pleased to be beneath your Royal Dignity."
"If there's anything beneath my Royal Dignity, I haven't found it yet." Random looks over at the musicians, who are looking at him. He blows out the smoke from his cigarette. "Gotta run, I promised the lads I'd sit one in. Pretend I'm not there..." He smiles and backs towards the back of the orchestra pit.
The Emerald Dragon smiles and nods as the sultan takes his leave, a smile less forced than the one she had when the conversation began. She notices the wine glass in her hand, as if it were the first time she had seen it. Setting it beside the fountain, she shakes her head and heads to find a snack before the next set of dances.
"What was I thinking?" Paige whispers, her hand absently stroking the green scales covering her stomach. "I'm sorry."
As previously promised to the GMs, in the intervening times of the Masquerade when Jerod is not busy cornering people on his "to do" list (don't anyone go there, I've already been there and gone), he will be spending some time to mingle with the crowds and talk, dance, eat, drink and enjoy himself.
With regards to the crowd mingling, Jerod has no restrictions on this. He's reasonably sure that selected individuals amongst the nobility that he might have rubbed the wrong way aren't going to be too interested in talking to him, but if someone in that category actually does show an interest, he won't ignore them. He is also curious to see who is brave enough to approach.
The eat and drink part go without saying, though not enough to come close to taking the edge of his focus. This might be a Masquerade, but for him it's just warfare in disguise.
For the dancing part, Conner has the lead on that one, and Jerod has a similar mindset. There are many a nervous young lady who have been dolled up by overly eager parents supremely convinced that they can snare their parents a hold to a higher noble perch, all the while the young lady not really sure what to do and probably not too eager to be there anyway. While Jerod would never take advantage of that, he knows what it is like to be in that situation.
Anyone he picks to dance with is going to know that Jerod is here to dance and is a perfect gentleman. He makes very sure that they enjoy themselves, does small talk with grace, and is never ill at ease no mattering how embarassed, excited or nervous his partner might be. If any parents are eager to try to pawn their daughters off on him, I'm sure he'll have a few choice comments on that - sufficient to make the parents wince without causing grief to the young lady (and hopefully never having her to be forced to go through such a silly meat market experience again).
For what it's worth, after Folly, Vialle, Cambina, and another dance with Aisling, should she be available, Marius will not entirely be the gentleman Jerod is. He will prey on the ones who are so dolled up, and smile and flirt, without promising a thing. If anyone gets too aggressive, however, he'll probably give Aisling a bit of a "ready to rescue me?" glance with a smirk.
The Viking, after departing from Folly's company with a low bow, had wandered over towards a spot on the wall opposite the garden doors when he stops short and cocks his head to one side. He turns in place and stands still for a moment or two, apparently staring at a spot above the heads of the dancers and breathing in the ambiance of the room. His head snaps down suddenly and he restarts his walk around the room, more purposeful this time, but apparently undecided as to where to go. He moves towards the musicians, pauses briefly to scan the dance floor, and moves on. He nears the clutch of dragon-birds near the bar, but does not pause as he continues on towards a seamaid speaking with a flame goddess. He maneuvers slowly around these ladies, still apparently intent on some other goal or lost in his own world. He stops, almost back where he started, near the buffet room. He again scans the dance floor. The Pavane is ending and, some decision made, the Viking heads towards the departing Emerald sorceress and her vulpine partner as they near the garden doors.
The lady puts her arm on her companion's arm, as if to ask him to wait a moment.
The Fox, who looks as though he had been about to say something, caught sight of the Viking and would have paused even without the priestess' touch.
He does take the opportunity to look the Viking up and down as he approaches, and when he arrives, the fox wears an appropriately foxish quirk to his lips. "...Sir Viking," he greets him.
Done playing games (as if that is possible for an Amberite), the Viking nods, "Cousin. Mother, a word outside perhaps?" and gestures to the garden door. The gesture and invitation do not exclude Brennan, but to make sure, the Viking adds, "and you, Sir Brennan? Will you join us?"
"Of course. You seem troubled, cousin."
"How could one be troubled at such an elaborate party? I do find the mass of people a little more Chaotic than expected, however...", the Viking grows silent as the three move out into the gardens.
The three find a somewhat secluded fountain, not too far from the Grand Hall. The sound of the water falling helps to mask their conversation.
"Of course, when I say 'Chaotic' I mean that with a capital 'C'", Brita says as she drops her gruff accent. "There is a Chaotic presence at our Masque tonight, beyond what one would expect from our Cousins Aisling and Merlin." Brita turns to her mother. "I was unable to truly pinpoint the source and was wondering if you have or know of... other means."
Fiona's brow furrows. "You're certain? Of course you're certain; you have your father's gift."
She looks at Brennan, then back at Brita. "Much of what I could do to find our intruder would be--unsubtle. Unsuitable for use in a crowded environment. Active sorcery generates visible paradox in most cases. We must do whatever we do with a minimum of disruption, or we'll have a stampede among the guests."
Brita expells a breath. "I had hoped it would be easy..." She glances back at the lights from the Great Hall then turns back to Brennan, "Cousin Robin's methods of tracking might be even less subtle than Mother's, but she should be put on guard. Cousin Vere would probably know if there was anyone... extraneous or unexpected at the party if he tuned his eyes to the matter at hand. We should alert Cousin Lilly and perhaps Cousin Jerod to be on the alert. Mother, could you do something out here, perhaps utilizing Cousin Merlin or Cousin Aisling, to ensure there are no escape routes?"
While Brita is saying this, Brennan is looking in over that portion of the ballroom he can see over Fiona's shoulder and through the garden door, scanning, as though he could pick someone out by some imperfect action. He looks back at Fiona, and his eyebrow asks a question. "Aisling?" He says. "Ben?" Both reasonable choices of who to ask about unwelcome Chaosi. Then his eyes narrow, and his gaze snaps back to the ballroom. "Merlin," he says in a low voice.
Fox mask, or no, anyone who fought with him on the field that happened to see his eyes could tell by them that it's not the Fox looking in over the ballroom, it's Brennan. And he's not smiling. He's tagging everyone there in his field of view with identity fields where possible and motion vectors regardless, futile as that may be with a limited field of vision. Most important to him right now is:
Where is Merlin and who is with him or moving toward him?
Where are Aisling, and Benedict, and is Ce'e in attendance? (One
expects not, but one asks nonetheless.)
Where is Cambina and who is with her?
It is impossible to tell any details about what is passing in the ballroom from Brennan's current location. [and your card draw sucked big wind, which didn't help.]
Brennan has seen Sir Ce'e in attendance this evening.
"Tell Bleys," he says. "Mention Merlin. He'll understand. And Lilly and Jerod, too. That should get the information spread right, swiftly."
He looks back at Fiona.
The red-headed sorceress answers Brennan's eyebrow with a slight shrug. "Aisling is no sorceress. If our uninvited guest departs by sorcery, Bleys or Merlin or I might attempt a counterspell. A passive block would be obvious and costly, and could be circumvented by a Trump in any case."
From within the Hall, Brita and Brennan might barely be able to hear that the rhythm of the music has changed, and is now in 3/4 time. Brennan, who is looking back towards the hall, sees a white-winged figure emerging, followed closely by a figure in red.
Brita cocks her head at the change in music although she is listening as well to Brennan and Fiona. Her back is to the castle at the moment.
"I will find Cousin Jerod and Uncle Bleys if you search out Cousin Lilly," she says to Brennan.
"Bleys happens to be coming up right behind you," he says, "Along with Julian." Then, distractedly, "Is that a waltz I hear?"
Brita turns to note the arrival of her Uncles.
[Brennan] explains to them very briefly that Merlin's recent Patternwalk was disturbed by someone looking much like a two-armed Benedict, if they did not already know:
"The story, now third-hand, is that when Merlin recently Walked, someone looking like Benedict but with two arms interfered; Corwin, as the story runs, fought and prevented this interference. My first thought at the time was a shapeshifter. Now this.
"My first speculative thought at the time was a shapeshifter, perhaps descended of Benedict. It seemed farfetched at the time. Perhaps less so now. Perhaps still completely off-base."
Even so, while Brennan is quite alert to the possibility that something bad might be about to happen, he is not yet panicking. Not even close. He still doesn't like this.
"First things first-- make sure the right people know. It wouldn't shock me to find out that Random knows all about this and didn't tell anyone, or even that it's an invited guest." He pauses for a moment on that one, as something occurs to him. He glances at Bleys.
Then back at Brita. "Jerod and Lilly, as you say. The King and Queen, of course, but both Jerod and Lilly are likely to do that if we can't." Indeed, Brennan figures that both Jerod and Lilly are going to be effective at informing the right people and sticking close to the Royal Couple, respectively, all on their own. "Ben, on general principles."
"Second, once-- or while-- the information is flowing quietly, and discretely, figure out what, if anything can and should be done. I wouldn't be so concerned about escape," he says to Fiona, "as detection, at this point. So far, nothing terrible has happened. It'd be nice to keep it that way, one way or another."
He looks at Brita, "Jerod and Lilly probably already have dancing partners. It may take a dance or two to inform them, without making it look obvious-- can't cut in on Lilly, Vialle, Ben and Jerod all at the same time."
Julian steps into the small clump of trees at about this point and moves towards Fiona. "Sister," he begins, and Bleys, who is a graceful half-step behind him, says in his large voice, "Fiona, you promised me this dance, did you not?" and adds to Julian, "Elder brother's privilege."
Fiona hesitates for a moment and glances at Brennan before placing her hand in Bleys'. "I believe I did, Bleys. Let us go in together." She looks at Julian and says, "Perhaps another dance, later this evening."
And to Brennan and Brita: "We shall continue our discussion later."
Brennan would certainly hope so. He shoots Brita a sidelong glance, both about the Bleys/Julian thing and the shapeshifter on the loose thing. They know what they need to do, Brennan and Brita, before they continue the discussion with Fiona.
And so, with a polite nod to Julian and the approaching Bleys, Brennan takes his long strides (muttering very much under his breath, "At a damn masquerade, yet. Very funny.") back through the garden and into the ball room again in another thread, hopefully not very late.
By definition not later that Bleys and Fiona will be, anyway, unless they sprint.
Last modified: 8 June 2003