Joining the Rangers

Vere arrives at the tent to see Julian shuffling a card back into his Trump deck and Robin and the firelizards gone. He looks up at Vere's arrival and gestures him in, waiting until the flap is closed to speak again. "Robin has gone to Fiona, to be examined for whatever is distressing her. Fiona closed the connection once Robin was through, so I believe you were not invited." He closes the box and turns his attention to Vere.

"Which is just as well, as I believe we have some matters to discuss regarding Robin's conduct."

"Yes, sir," Vere says, voice and face impassive. Julian has not asked him to sit, so he remains standing.

Julian is also still standing; once he puts the cards away, he settles in a camp chair and gestures to Vere to join him. The firelilly is close by under its hurricane lamp.

“Vere. What can you tell me," Julian asks, "about Robin's agreement, or discussion, or what you will, with King Random, on the topic of her role and duty in this family, and particularly as regards her absence at the family council in Paris some time ago?"

Vere takes a seat. "Nothing directly as regards the latter, sir," he answers carefully. "I am under the impression that she discussed the matter of her non-attendance at the Paris meeting with the king before my return to Xanadu. When I did return, the two of us discussed Robin's occasional lapses in communication with the king, and its origin in her Black Road experience, with an emphasis on her failure to follow through on a task she had been given due to her losing track of time, and a brief mention of the Paris situation. We suggested that until Robin has recovered from the effects of whatever happened to her it would be advantageous for the two of us to continue operating together. I have a focus that Robin currently lacks, and she acts as a balance to my tendency to over analyze situations before taking action. His majesty agreed to this, with the stipulation that if he needs to send us on separate missions for the good of the realm he will of course do so."

"I'll have to have a word with him about that." Julian dismisses the King with those words, and turns his attention back to something more important. "Do you believe that Robin requires that kind of support on a full-time basis? How will that serve her in terms of dealing with family in the long term, in your opinion? She's going to have enough difficulty with the firelizards in due time."

Vere tilts his head to one side and pauses a moment before answering. "I cannot answer that question with complete certainty," he says, "As I did not know her before the Black Road, and do not know how much she has changed. But my sense of the situation is that she does not truthfully require my support. We overstated the case to the King, to ensure that he would accept our request. I believe that I can ease Robin's interactions with the Family, and smooth her dealings with them, and hopefully she will learn more diplomacy from me than she currently bothers to use."

He smiles very slightly. "But Robin is clever, even if she seldom bothers to use that cleverness in a political manner. Without my presence she would still learn to deal with the Family, given time and reason."

He shrugs slightly. "That latter is the key, I think. With our abilities and longevity, it is hard for someone still young to see a reason to do something we dislike, without sufficient incentive."

Julian arches an eyebrow in a manner Vere has come to recognize. "Give yourself a few more centuries of dealing with the family. I imagine you'll learn the reasons." He offers Vere a thin smile. "I have clearly made an error in the raising of Robin. I thought that she could manage well enough in court for her needs. Now the need has increased and her ability to manage herself has decreased. I do not intend for her to be so weak that she cannot deal with her kindred without an aid. The firelizards are one thing: she's linked to them now, for good and ill--and there will be plenty of both. But you--" Julian focuses on Vere with a certain intensity "--are a separate matter."

Vere blinks, once, and shows no other emotion. His voice is flat as he replies, "The possibility that I am a hindrance to her recovery has occurred to me. I do not believe it to be the case. I believe that we are aiding one another, and that I can be an aid to her recovery, rather than a crutch that she will grow to rely upon. However, I also recognize that I may be too close to the situation to make an unbiased judgement upon this matter."

"There are some in our family who might prefer a companion who is more biddable than she otherwise would be for reasons of dependency. If I believed you were one such, we would be having a very different discussion." Julian doesn't hasten to reassure Vere with these words; he doesn't hasten to reassure anyone, Vere suspects.

Vere nods once, an almost imperceptibly small movement.

In what appears to be a change of subject, Julian asks, "Have you and your father discussed our sister, Robin's mother?"

"Not in any detail," Vere replies.

Julian frowns. "She was--very headstrong and very powerful. Dad tried to control her, to no avail, and the tightness of the control he exerted meant that when she went wild, she went very wild. There's some very ugly history in the Isles--or was--from those days. Random is too young to recall much of this, but many of your other aunts and uncles are not.

"The point is that her mother had to exercise self-restraint, and failed, and it killed her. Solange has had the same problem, and now she's banished for defying Random in a foolhardy and provocative way. And Robin failed to turn up at the family meeting, without leave. Robin is perceived as weak, unreliable, and the daughter of her defiant mother, who came close to destroying shadows in her greed. Whatever happened to her on the Black Road, Fiona will find a way to mend the metaphysics." He pauses there to fix Vere with his gaze again. "But equally bad, in its own way, will be her dependence on anyone else to rein in what much of the rest of the family will perceive as her willfulness."

Vere leans forward, his gaze not leaving Julian's. "Are you more concerned with actual dependence, or the appearance of dependence?"

"Both," says Julian with a trace of impatience. "If you appear strong, you're less likely to be provoked. If you are strong, you can withstand whatever attacks and provocations are thrown your way. Dependence is a weakness and Robin should neither be weak nor be seen to be so: particularly because of the heritage she carries. And consider the feelings the rest of the family has about Brand's sons before you tell me that no longer matters. They have been accepted, but not with a wholly open heart."

Vere nods. "I merely wished to ascertain the exact nature of your concerns. Before I address the issue, may I ask if this conversation is intended to give me an opportunity to assuage your concerns, or whether you have already made up your mind about this matter and are leading up to telling me what you have decided?"

Julian sits back, slightly, and the trace of a smile appears around the corners of his mouth. "Far be it from me to disabuse you of that notion. Having said that, the exercise would be useful either way. In any case, it is no longer my sense of the matter that is at issue. Until and unless Fiona returns her here directly, Robin is in Fiona's care. Her opinion of Robin's stability is, therefore, of the most immediate concern."

"Ah," Vere says. He considers that for a moment. "What I have seen of Aunt Fiona leads me to believe that if there is any external cause for Robin's condition she is the best chance available to us to remedy it. Is that your analysis as well, my lord uncle?"

"I would not have sent Robin to her if I believed otherwise. Of our surviving sorcerers, my sister is the most experienced and competent, and least untrustworthy." Julian says this last as if it's a compliment rather than an insult. He turns his hawk eyes on Vere. "You say if there is any external cause. Do you harbor doubt on this point?"

Vere considers for a few moments before answering. "I did not know Robin before her experiences on the Black Road, so I cannot tell how much she has changed, and I have no evidence for how the damage to her came about. I can imagine ways in which the damage could have exacerbated previously existing tendencies, rather than being a reaction to the stress of her experiences." Vere shrugs slightly. "I am expert in spinning theories, Uncle. I can always come up with new and more exotic possibilites. Fo example, Robin's mental difficulties could be caused by some sort of psychic parasite implanted in her mind by a Lord of Chaos."

Julian's eyebrows arch slightly and he looks down his long, aristocratic nose at Vere. "I'm not particularly concerned about that possibility," he allows. "If that were the case, Fiona is certainly the most capable of dealing with it.

"In the meantime, while Fiona is dealing with Robin, and the matter of her health is out of our control, have you decided what you shall be doing?"

"I had not considered it," Vere answers. "I was not expecting to be separated from Robin, and thus have not yet made any definite plans. The king has no pressing assignment for me, although I am certain he could find work for a nephew with time on his hands. There was also the matter of learning more of the life Robin had led, among the Rangers. This was something she had planned on showing me, although I would not presume to request such a thing on my own without encouragement from the Lord Warden."

Julian considers that, giving Vere a slow once-over as if evaluating him, or deciding whether he'd be tasty or worthy of being hunted. "There would be," he says after a moment, "no especial rank and privilege associated with being a Ranger here. Those are the conditions under which Robin was raised among the Rangers."

Vere nods. "Understood," he says. "And I would of course abide by whatever restrictions you see fit to impose within your domain regarding the use of Pattern and Sorcery."

"We have never had a sorcerer among the Rangers in my years as Warden," Julian muses. "But Chaosi are viewed with suspicion and I suspect sorcery would be perceived as an extension of Chaos, or the Green, if it weren't passed off as a royal gift. We took the brunt of the Black Road here, and that when we were thin after Bleys and Corwin invaded. Pattern is a different matter, though it's best used quietly. Though excessive use of either in Arcadia risks drawing draconic attention, or that of the goddesses. I tell you from hard-won personal knowledge that you do not wish to deal with them."

Julian rises from the camp chair and moves to what is clearly some sort of portable cabinet, which he opens. It's a liquor cabinet.

"I led the Brotherhood of the Stag against the creatures of the Black Forest in the Isles," Vere says. "I well remember the fear and hatred that anything reminiscent of Chaos can engender." He remains sitting, watching Julian.

Julian finishes getting out two tumblers and a decanter of whiskey. He pours a couple of fingers into each of the glasses before putting the decanter away and bringing the glasses back to where Vere is sitting. He offers Vere one before sitting back in his own chair.

"Your experience with the Brotherhood will serve you well among the Rangers. Not perfectly, as many of our customs are different, but close enough that you will find it easier to integrate than some of our recruits who came from the city, or the Navy, during the late war. And a Ranger with your skills will be useful against incursions of the Green."

"The Green," Vere says. "I have heard the term, and a few stories of the sort of things it can do. I have also received the impression that it is related to the Dragon. But I confess that I am vague on the details."

"The Green is the name we give to that Real power that emanates from the Dragon of Arcadia. The goddesses of Arcadia and their assorted godling offspring also use it. Those of that descent line are--" Julian pauses and considers his words carefully "--vulnerable to its control. Many of them are drawn to Arcadia and have served as Rangers in the past, but in the current conflict, their affinity for Arcadia is little use to us.

"It's difficult for us to track all of them, though. My son fathered many children in certain of his guises. Nor is ancestral descent from the dragon the only possible manner in which she can achieve control. I believe those of us of royal descent are protected, especially once we have taken the Pattern."

Vere takes a thoughtful sip of the whiskey. "My understanding is that the Dragon is a Lord of Chaos trapped when the Pattern was created and Order was imposed on the Universe. She can neither be freed nor killed without destroying Arden. Is that correct?" A thought occurs to him, "Oh, and I am making the assumption that Robin has already told you what Edan told us about meeting her avatar. I should not make that assumption."

"She delivered a message from Edan; however, any additional perspective you have to offer on the matter would be welcome." Julian takes a drink of his own whiskey, and leaves room for Vere to speak.

"He said that he took a sextant from the Moonriders, which led him to the Dragon. She sleeps, or so at least her avatar, or something claiming to be her avatar, told him. They had tea." Vere smiles slightly. "A logical thing to do when meeting a Great Power, in my opinion. They had conversation, but my impression is that neither revealed very much." He tilts his head slightly. "Edan did say that she offered an alliance, but he found her terms inconvenient. He also said that as he was leaving he heard from her attendants that the White Rider was coming, which he assumed meant yourself."

"That is a name they use for me. I have not encountered the Dragon of late, or we should probably not be having this discussion. My business with the Dragon does not involve its tea-consuming avatars." If Julian's tone were any drier, it would have sucked the liquid from his glass, leaving alcohol dust in its wake. "The Dragon's terms would certainly be inconvenient. He was wise to refuse her. She wears a fair face, but beneath it lies a violent and inhuman horror. One even more inhuman than we ourselves are."

To this, Julian raises his glass and drains it to the dregs.

Vere nods, frowning thoughtfully. "Then either her attendants were mistaken, someone was impersonating you, or they were intentionally decieving Edan. Where Chaos is concerned, I confess that I am at a loss to understand motivation sufficiently to estimate probabilities."

Julian sets his empty glass on the table between himself and Vere. "The Dragon is, as we have been saying, a creature of Chaos. Discerning the details of its thinking, or those of its attendants, is probably beyond us. I do not believe any bound servitor of the Dragon would lie to it. I'm not certain it's even possible," he muses. "The Dragon can wear its own like a glove."

Vere considers this for a few moments before venturing, "The time I spent studying at Madoc led me to believe that even he, who is quite possibly the most Ordered of the Chaos Lords, did not quite understand the distinction we make between possessions, servants, and parts of ourselves."

"Perhaps that is the case, or perhaps the Dragon is merely possessive of its treasures, whether creatures or objects." Julian seems indifferent to which of the particular problems with reality the Dragon. Or perhaps it's simply time to change the subject to something he considers more important. "Do you have any further questions before you join the service of the Rangers?"

Vere tilts his head to one side. "What, exactly, am I comitting to?" he asks. "Is there an oath? Am I obligated to some period of service? If so, then my prior oaths to my father and the king will require me to notify them beforehand."

Julian ponders. "The term of your service to the Rangers can be at will, or at the King's pleasure if you'd rather. That was what we said when Dad assigned any of us to Arden in the old days, and I believe in the traditions. I'll take your word that you will obey Ranger orders while you're in service without a public oath. You're not taking charge of a post or anything that requires official notice. Your position will be, in fact, more like Robin's. If you acquire seniority and trust, it will be in the manner she did: by leading and behaving in a trustworthy manner.

"If you need to speak with Random or Gerard, I have my Trumps."

"I have one of Father," Vere says. "With your permission, I will contact him about this now." He smiles slightly. "Unless Father thinks otherwise, I do not see any reason to bother the King over this matter."

Unless Julian has anything to say at this point, Vere will take out his trump of Gerard and regard it. "Father, it is Vere," he says.

Gerard is sitting in his chair on what appears to Vere to be the balcony of his chamber in the castle in Xanadu. "Aye?" he asks. "Vere, how d'ye fare? How is Robin?"

"We fare well, Father," Vere responds. "The half-troll is dead, and we went from that task to speak with Uncle Julian. I am with him now. Robin has gone from here to consult with Aunt Fiona, and until she returns I thought to serve a while with the Rangers, to learn more of her way of life. The Lord Warden is agreeable, but I thought it best to inform you."

A bit of Gerard's confusion and concern come through the contact. "Aye, I'll be glad to know where ye are, and I'm sure yer work will be good. Is Robin getting worse, that she needed Fiona? That's a strong medicine for any ill."

"Not getting worse," Vere replies. "But not getting better, either. We neither of us wished to just let matters lie, when the underlying cause is still not understood."

"It's good that she's getting help, then." Something of Gerard's care and conflicted feelings continues to leak through until he marshals himself and cuts it off. "If anyone can sort out what happened to her, it'll be Fiona. And I see no harm from you working with Julian, but stay away from the dragons. And I know you've sworn oath not to dally with women, and wouldn't anyhow, but be wary of strange wenches from the forest wearing nothing but leaves and vines who want to be your friend. They're worse than the wenches who get sailors on shore leave drunk and take their last penny."

"I shall take care, Father," Vere replies fondly. "Give Mother my love."

"I'll do that. Let us know what happens with Robin. Yer ma and I do worry about her." Gerard won't offer the indignity of saying he worries about Vere, but that shines through the connection as well.

Vere ends the call and turns his attention back to Julian. "I am at your service, My Lord Uncle," he says.

Julian smiles slightly. "Very good. Let's finish our drink and then you can meet the Rangers you'll be working with."

Robin awakes some time later. It’s dark outside, but wherever this is, that may not be a real indication of time passing. There’s a tray of food, simple fare like bread, cheese and fruit. Peep is hungry. Robin suspects that if she moved, the others would wake up and be hungry, too.

With a cheerful chirp, Robin disturbs the lizard-pile and immediately starts dishing out bites of food; one for you, one for you, one for you, one for me and so on, until everyone is full. (If she has to jigger probability a little in order to do so, she will.)

If no one has disturbed them by then, it's time for stretching. Robin knows there are times when one has to drop in one's tracks, but one's going to pay for that in the morning. So before the pain and stiffness gets too bad, Robin indulges in a series of long, slow stretches. With a smile, she invites her little ones to join her and slowly her stretching becomes a dance -- a dance of joining and connection timed to the lightning and music in her blood.

Afterward, a quick drink and sponge bath from pitcher of water and she reaches for the door to her cell. Onward.

The door opens smoothly and she finds a blank-faced, white skinned man there, in livery. “Are you ready to see the Mistress, Ma’am?” He asks her. His voice doesn’t have much inflection, as if he were a machine or zombie rather than a full person. The hallway behind him looks as it did previously; stone mortared to stone, with wild skies out the windows.

The three lizards firmly attach themselves to Robin. They seem to object to letting go.

Many, many different answers blossom in Robin’s mind. And the paths beyond each stretch out into an endless lattice-work of possibilities. But in the end, there can be only one decision. So she chooses, “Yes, please,” and gestures for the liveried being to lead the way.

As she exits the door, she strokes her firelizards comfortingly. She doesn’t want to let go either.

In the end, Peep stays on Robin’s shoulder and the boys stay in the room, for the moment. Robin is led back through stone corridors to the same library where Fiona examined her some time before. The sky out the window continues to be little help, and while it looks as if one could keep time by the floating rocks, it’s not clear if they are constant. Or maybe they are and everything else is variable, which is no different.

As soon as Robin sits down in the indicated chair, Chirrup and Peep arrive, and perch themselves on bookshelves.

Fiona walks in, looking impeccable. “I had a nice chat with your great-grandfather while you were taking your walk, mostly to keep him from paying too much attention to it. I’ll want to see how my readings compare to my earlier baseline. How do you feel?”

Again, many, many answers bloom in Robin’s mind. She smiles as she considers stroking Peep’s eyeridge. When she feels ready, she begins.

“Tired but rested.

“Hungry for meat.

“A little achy but overall well.

“Centered.

“Not afraid.

“Missing Vere.

“Connected, Very, very connected.

“Like an aperture through which possibilities are narrowed.

"Like singing for the rest of my life.”

Robin spreads her hands open. From there on, there are no words.

“Yes. So, what I’m doing here is seeing if the tools I have here can detect any difference in you after your walk. It’s not required that you speak, but it tends to make this easier, especially if the topics relate to the pattern walk you just completed. So, do you have any questions from your walk? Did you learn anything? Did you see anything unexpected?"

She looks up from her notes. “Do you think you were changed by it?"

Robin nods her understanding of what Fiona’s doing and her willingness to help.

“Unexpected – yes.” Robin smiles ironically.

“At the fourth veil,” her emphasis indicates that while she had heard there was such a thing, she had to experience it to believe it, “there were two correct paths. I do not think it was an illusion or a test. I believe I could have successfully completed the Walk in either way, had I so chose.

“Have I been changed by it? Yes. Am I different? No. I have been refined by it. And have received some clarity. Which is what I sought.

“I have no questions from my walk – but that has always been my way. I learn by doing and seeing and being, not blah-blah-blah.” Robin makes a ‘talking’ motion with her hand. “Though – if I may – I’d like to return some day to visit with ‘Wixer.’” She grins. “I have always had a fondness for large predators.”

Robin scratches Peep’s eyeridge. She has a fondness for small predators too.

“And I learned that fear was my undoing. I still see and hear... so very much. But it doesn’t frighten me so anymore. I see myself as the chooser from among all those myriads of possibilities, not their hapless victim.” She smiles again.

Fiona nods. “This sounds excellent. When I asked Dworkin about the fourth veil, he was vexed, and blamed it on Random adding a four-against-three polyrhythm. I’m still trying to digest that, which is the way all good conversations with him go.” She smiles, mostly with her eyes.

“That makes sense.” Robin nods thoughtfully, “The King does seem fond of syncopation.”

The princess puts down her pen. "Would you be willing to run an errand for me in Xanadu? I have a message I need delivered to someone in the city.”

“I would be willing to do, if you would be willing to facilitate a contact with Vere first. I had agreed to remain in his company previously. And now I’m not.” Robin spreads her hands to demonstrate For a moment, she considers a joke concerning the worries of the weaker sex for Fiona’s sake. But then, she realizes that Vere’s background would make that too pointed. So she just shuts up.

Fiona nods, still paying more attention to her devices than to Robin. “I can send you back to your father via trump. My message is not urgent, and it does not matter if he accompanies you. If you are wondering if this is part of the examination, the answer is ‘yes’."

Fiona addresses a folded piece of paper. “This is for Madame Bywater of Amber and now Xanadu. If you will, take it to her, and follow her instructions.”

"In that case, I'd be delighted."

Robin takes the paper from Fiona and considers it for a moment. A few brief questions and paths circle in her mind, but none of them seem urgent or important enough to matter. Time will tell, it always does. So she smiles and nods, and carefully tucks the paper away in one of her more waterproof pouches.

"Is there anything - else - I can do for you, Aunt. Something that I may help with, to thank you for your time and attention?" There is a certain wry humor to her question though she's sincere. She understands that the knowledge and data Fiona's gathered is significant, but perhaps a minor personal 'thank you' would be nice too.

Fiona puts her pen down. “That’s kind of you. I can’t think of anything I need. Just this. Look out for the women in the family when you can. It’s very hard to be female in this family and we all have responded with our own very different but generally isolating survival strategies. Help your female cousins and aunts when you can.” She reaches into her pouch and pulls out a trump deck. “Ready to go back?"

Robin nods and stands, calling Ooot and Chirrup to herself with a gesture.

“Isolating survival strategies...” Robin nods again to herself. “Not Brita.” She smiles at to Brita's mother. “I can do better at that. And I will.”

With that she holds out her hand for transport.

Fiona flips over the deck and looks at the trump of Robin’s father, after a moment, she starts to speak, but not to Robin. "It went well ... She can tell you ... Just a few days ... She’s ready." Fiona takes Robin's hand and Prince Julian is there-and-not-there in the way of Trumps. He takes her hand from Fiona and he becomes quite real.

"Thank you, dear sister. We are in your debt." Robin finds that she and her winged menagerie are both in a tower and in a forest campsite. Julian does not yet let go of her hand.

"You always do bring me intriguing puzzles, Julian. Good luck in your war." She fades from view, leaving Robin squarely with Julian. She smells Morgenstern on him. He’s been riding recently.

"Sir," says Robin with a nod, though the smile in her eyes says 'Dad.'

Figuring that the Warden will want to do his own evaluation, Robin holds out her arms in a 'here-I-am' gesture. There is a hint that her gesture could become a hug easily enough, if Julian is so inclined.

Julian does give her the once-over, then the not-quite-solicited embrace of welcome. "Welcome to Girth's, Robin. You appear to be faring well." Julian doesn't make this a question, but leaves a moment of room for her to reply before the person he must have been talking to moves in for a greeting of his own: Vista.

“I am.” She beams as she hugs her father firmly and with great love. “Better than I have been in a long time.”

"Look at you," Vista says, "off on royal business and now you're back."

Robin nods. She is, indeed, back.

He nods to Julian. "I'll be by later, and I'll tell the mess to send dinner for two.

Robin sends a little wave in Vista’s direction before turning back to her father. Smiling again she raises an eyebrow, with a distinctly Robin-like glimmer in her eye. “Sooooo, what are you seeing?” She gestures to her selfness.

Julian shakes his head. "You seem the same to me--but I'm not a redhead, nor do I expect my sense for sorcery to match Fiona's." He smiles a bit ruefully at her. "If you feel as though something has changed for the better, you have no reason to doubt yourself. Doubly so, if your Aunt agrees."

He gestures to her to come into his tent, the one they were standing outside of. "Vere has been serving among the Rangers. I'd send for him, but he's on patrol in the Deep Green with Mum and Modal. Needle has been assisting him; I believe they worked together during Gerard's Regency."

Robin nods as she enters the tent. "Needle's got a good head on him - though he doesn't get the credit he should.

"Would you mind if I sent Vere an 'I'm back and safe' message or would you prefer I leave the patrol alone?" She asks the Warden.

"What sort of message did you have in mind? We're on a war footing here--" which Robin knew already, and would have picked up again from the little she'd seen outside the tent, and the spare, even for Julian, furnishings within "--and I'd prefer not to alert our enemies to your return until the right moment. Or perhaps I should ask: do you mean to stay?" He gestures to a seat and takes his own.

"I’d like to, sir, if you'll have me." She says seriously as she takes her own seat and settles the firelizards. "Depending, of course, on Vere & the King, but I don’t anticipate any disagreement there."

Robin pauses for a moment to let her scattered thoughts to settle into one tree. When she speaks again, her words are slow and considering. "The time I’ve spent among my cousins and in Xanadu has been good for me. Though it forced me to crisis, it also forced me out of a... rather narrow definition I had of myself, the Family and the universe in general." She smiles wryly at that.

"I’d like to continue that contact as I believe it will continue to be good for me, the Family and the universe in general – despite the... accidents I have had and most likely, will keep having in the future." She chuckles ruefully. "One thing I've learned is that I can't expect people to trust me if I don't trust them. And that trust is only going to be built through continued... talking." Robin wrinkles her nose in distaste. "As you yourself have pointed out." She smiles wryly at her father.

"On the other hand, I'm fresh from a Pattern-epiphany." Here Robin’s voice begins to gain passion and suppressed excitement twinkles in her eye. "I've Heard and seen a little of what you and Aunt Fiona refer to as 'sorcery' and it doesn't seem the same to me as what Brennan & Edan refer to 'Sorcery.' Jerod does some of it – clumsily, I might add. And I’ve been thinking.

"I'm not Brita; I can't sniff out our Chaosian cousins. But I can Hear the firelillies buzzing and I Feel you firming up the land. I could almost See the King reaching for the fraying strands of Danu. And I will never forget the horror of Feeling Jerod rip himself out of Reality..." She shudders briefly.

"When Edan & Brennan commit Sorcery, it's all flash! Boom! Terrifically effective and really... disruptive." Is what Robin settles on. "I thought that given my," the word 'reckless' hangs unspoken in the air, "nature that I would be good at that stuff. Just like I thought that because I was a killer, I’d be a good warrior. But after being around my cousins... Sir, I just don’t have the heart."

Robin smiles warmly at Julian. "I was raised by a hidden master of creation, healing and nurture." She reaches under her camp stool to draw forth the sleepy butterfly that was resting there. A smile lines her lips as the delicate creature stirs, spreads its wings and flutters off her finger. (And the watchful eyes of the firelizards follow its darting path.)

"Sir. I'd like to learn more of that from you. If you will have me. I'd like to use it to heal the hole that Jerod tore. I'd like to use it to push back the encroaching infection of Dragon Chasms and Deep Green. I'd like to use it to preserve what remains of Amber and Arden for those who didn't and now will never know, what they were like.

"I... I'm the only life creator I know of among my generation. And I don't know of any Lords of Order who can work in concert with one another." Robin recalls Bleys' warning of 'nodes.' "But you and I are the two closest workers of Heritage that I know of. And.... I'd like to see what we could do. If... that is, you can stand to work with me after what I've done."

Robin's guilt over Jovian and Canareth makes her drop her eyes and bob her head off to one side. But she makes sure to keep it under control for the sake of the firelizards.

Julian lets the fire lizards settle from their sudden burst of fluttering, which was probably brought on by Robin's flare of guilt, before he answers. "Of course you're welcome to stay and work with me. I can't promise I can teach you everything you want to know, because each of us does work so very differently. But you are always welcome in Arden, as long as I am Warden here."

Robin looks up at Julian with warm, liquid eyes. Then rushes to hug him. "Thank you, Dad. That... that means the world to me. It really does."

After a few moments of fierce hugging, Robin settles down to wipe her eyes and calm the firelizards. She retakes her seat and reorders her thoughts.

"I didn't expect and don't anticipate you being able to teach me everything I want to know. I'm still too much the explorer," she smiles as she hears Silhouette say 'experimenter' in her head, "to learn much from other people's trails. But you know so very much about creating. And I think I could stand to pay a little more attention to that." She finishes with an ironic smile.

The firelizards stop dancing happily about the tent and settle again as Robin reorders her thoughts. They had been too excited to restrain themselves when she threw her arms around her father.

"I'll teach you what I can. There's a lot broken here, and the strength of another strong Pattern initiate will be welcome." Julian considers the implications for a moment before asking, "Does this mean Vere will be staying with us, and if so, how will he be working toward aiding Gerard and restoring his legs? Or do you know yet?"

Robin strokes Peep thoughtfully. "I can't speak for Vere so I don't know. I do know that every time I have brought up concerns that I might be... distracting him from his oath, he assures me that he understands what he meant when he undertook it. And that he is still on the trail."

She shakes her head. "I've been avoiding getting too involved because firstly, while I love Uncle Gerard very, very much, that doesn't mean I get to tell him how to live his life. And secondly, I thought that... there might be an appearance of bias if I seemed too eager. But I really, really hope that Aunt Fiona got some good data from my Patternwalk..."

"That's all beyond our control. There are many things we can master, but our family, and our esteem among them is never one of them." Julian's words are more deferral of those problems than dismissal. They are, after all, immortal, and can afford to kick the problem down the road in favor of current crises. "And since the one person whose opinion you can be certain of is your own, best live with your own choices."

Julian settles into his own seat again, finally. "Without any certainty of Vere's intentions, I'll defer making definitive plans at least until his return from the Deep Green. While I do not think him a coward, the Deep Green has made more than one Ranger reconsider their opinion on how far forward they wish their duty to carry."

"Oh, yeah." Robin nods in heartfelt confirmation.

"Sooooo, anything I can help with in the interim?"

Julian shakes his head at the question. "With your skills? Pitch in where you're needed. There'll be plenty for you to do. You're not an unknown quantity, nor are you ignorant of the way we do things here. This is my current forward beachhead; I'd like to set one further out if I can, and that will require another initiate to hold ground against the Green. But we’ll need to know whether Vere is in for the duration before we make a firm decision on that point."

"K, then." Robin stands, "I'll go see if Vista needs any trees pushed over or someone to cover a watch or three." She grins.

But before she goes, Robin allows herself one more quick hug. "Thank you, Dad. You're the best."

And then she's out the tent door and looking for Vista.

Robin finds Vista easily. He's showing someone around the camp, an older man who bears himself like a ranger. He might've joined since she... left. His skin is weathered and touched by the sun, and he's wearing what looks like a variant on Ranger clothes. It takes Robin a moment to recognize the man, but soon she does. His name is Iron Eyes, and he's Hannah's father.

Vista sees Robin, and waves her over.

Robin grins and bounces over.

"Hey, Vista. Iron Eyes." She nods in greeting, before addressing Vista again.

"The Warden says I'm on temporary duty until Vere gets back and things are pounded out. So I'm checking in." She finishes with a smile -- it's nice to be on any kind of duty again.

She smiles at Iron Eyes too, curiousity swimming in her eyes.

"I reckon we can find a thing or three to put you to doing." Vista gives Robin an easy grin. "I didn't know you knew Iron Eyes here, but I'm not surprised."

Iron Eyes nods by way of acknowledging Robin’s presence. "It is good you have made your way back to your father's camp. I bring greetings from Hannah, and news for us to speak of later. And also from Paige, who has sent some of her Ponca to support the Rangers in their conflict with the Green World."

Robin nods. "I'd love to hear how they're doing." Meaning the sister, the cousin and the Ponca. "And thank you for your good wishes." Iron Eye's tone seems to hum through Robin for a moment.

Then she claps her empty hands. "Soooo, what have you got for me, Vista? Fire pits to dig? Dinner to catch? Unfortunate vermin to run off? All three?" She finishes with a grin.

Vista nods. “Sounds about right. Dig a latrine to catch vermin for dinner.”

"Oooo." Robin says playfully. "You're my favorite ranger."

Vista pauses. “Or I could use some survey help. Iron Eyes saw what looked like signs of people on his way in, and we need to run that down. Or if you’re moving on to Amber, I have dispatches."

"Iiiiiii think I'd like to avoid Amber for right now." Robin drawls. "Survey work it is."

Vista nods and smiles. “You always did prefer the unpopulated places.”

Iron Eyes outlines where he was in his travels and the signs he saw. It looked like a camp, not another army from Arcadia. Iron Eyes gives clear directions and Robin is sure she could find his vantage point again.

Robin smiles as she listens to Iron Eyes; got to love a man who can give clear directions. When she feels confident that she's got it, she nods and turns to Vista.

"Okay, I'm on it. I'll try to keep sneaky feet, buuuutt..." she shrugs, "it's me. Something might catch on fire accidental-like. I'll report back before going too far out. Unless, of course, I find something drastic. Or interesting. Or I forget." She grins at Vista. "Either way, I'll eventually be back."

Vista nods. “Naturally. I chose you special for this one.” He tells her who is acting as quartermaster and gives her a brief rundown on the supplies she can get and reminds her to make special note of any outcroppings of The Green, or Firelillies. Then he sends her on her way.