Hannah makes her way to Paige's room and knocks, hoping against hope the rumors are right and she's down from Broceliande.
A tired sounding, "Come in if, you dare," voice responds. The door is unbolted, as most doors in the palace. (If the player remembers correctly.) The room within is draped in greens and golds. Obvious is that its occupant has been spending little time here, as her normal attendant clutter has barely begun to creep along the horizontal surfaces of the room.
Paige is in a short purple robe that she remembers as not being this tight last time she wore it, but that was before the twins, or perhaps shortly after. Maybe it's the Xanadahavian laundry, she sighs. Her long legs are draped artfully over one arm of a plush rust colored club chair, the short red hair wrapped beneath a towel on the opposite arm.
She opens her eyes at the sound of footsteps, and lifts her head to identify her visitor. "My dear Hannah," she smiles, glad its family and not staff. "A glass of wine?" Paige asks, gesturing to the end table beside her with her own half full glass, ever threatening to flow beyond the crystal lip. There is has half a bottle of something more golden than white than white with a likely unfamiliar script scrawling across the label. "It's sweet, a yellow muscat that survived the transit from Heerat to Amber several decades ago and since then the trip to Random's New Reality." The right corner of her lips quirks in a melancholy grin. "My last bottle, in fact. I didn't see the point of taking just this one bottle out into The Wood."
Hannah watches Paige as she comes in. She looks at the bottle, lifts it, and inhales. "It smells lovely, but I don't drink alcohol. Thank you for offering to share, though. Do you miss Heerat? And Amber?" She sits down across from Paige.
"Hmm. No alcohol? My brother's that prohibition, if I remember correctly." She swings her legs to the floor, red varnish on her toenails.
Hannah grins. "I didn't know that."
"Heerat? The location," she shrugs, "It is Shadow." A pause in thought. "The warm lazy days and life of relative indolence? Only when I'm awake," Paige chuckles.
"Amber?" Her green eyes take on a distant quality. "I haven't paused long enough to consider missing it. Kind of amazing, that.
"You never knew her in her glory. I'm not sure that I've the words to help you understand," she says almost wistfully. "Then again, time and distance color the past as much as alcohol." She gestures with her glass and tosses back the end of it before placing it on the end table with the bottle.
"So, what brings you, cousin?"
"I need a professional courtesy. I'd like you to determine if I'm pregnant," Hannah tilts her head and adds, "if you feel up to it."
Paige's eyes sparkle with mirth. Momentarily speechless, she bites her bottom lip while considering, and then nods. "Of course," she answers. "I was only ever a nurse, and then more of one during war, but I've spent long enough in brothels to know something about birthin' babies.
"I don't know that I've looked over Random's dispensary here in the castle, but you could answer the basics before I need urine, and if I remember well enough..." She's caught in thought for a moment, thrilled to be off on something new and slightly gossipy. "Your last menses?" Redheaded intuition diverts her. "Or ovulation itself, as you're in tune enough with your body to know...
Hannah opens her mouth to say something, then closes it and smiles in amusement.
"Wait," Paige ejaculates, stopping her own rambling. "You're looking for divination, it being my only other profession aside from the oldest and you don't do girls." She doesn't reach for the silk wrapped package, not yet, almost afraid to be embaressed a second time in the same conversation.
Hannah just puts her hands up and laughs. "No. No divination. Edan and I picked you because we trust you." She lets that statement sit a moment to sink in.
Paige is spared a spit-take by the fact that she's finished her drink. Solange would call the expression pole-axed. She doesn't let the statement of trust go un-noticed though, offering a eventual grin and a almost shy, "Thanks."
"I was in Rebma, which I have to believe can interfere with a woman's cycle, and I've lost all track of time. I never thought to study up on high tech pregnancy-detection techniques when I was in shadow with Gerard, so I was thinking of something a bit more hands on. I can walk you through it, but I'm curious what you'd do with urine. You aren't going to try to tell by color, are you?" Hannah asked a bit disdainfully.
Paige shakes her head. "While there have been doctors that claimed such divination, it's not a very exact science," she explains. "Not color that is. I don't know if I would've called my home in San Francisco high-tech, but urine can be tested for the gonadotropins.
"Centuries before even my birth in Shadow they believed that a pregnant woman's urine would cause wheat or barley to germinate," she shrugs.
Hannah scrunches up her nose. She's at least heard of this test.
"Problem with most of the early high-tech hormone tests was the inability to differentiate between leutropins and chorionic gonadotropins. The later won't be produced until implantation, so a week to two after you seduced my brother. The former just spikes during menses, causing ovulation and then drops, despite setting the stage for implantation.
"So, I guess the questions are, who seduced whom, when did said act take place, and when was your last menses?" Paige asks. "Relative to you, not Amber or Xanadu or Rebma. Just how many days do you believe you experienced?"
Hannah smiles gently. "Who seduced whom isn't relevant to the discussion, Paige, but if you want to question me about your brother, that's understandable. I'd prefer to hold it until we have discerned if I am pregnant or mad."
"Deal, as it will let me decide if you're still a cousin or a sister," she allows.
"It's been more than a month, maybe more than that even. It happened in the spirit lands, and time doesn't feel the same there. It becomes hard to judge." Hannah shrugs. "I haven't seen a drop of blood since before medical school, cousin. I was never typical that way. I've got every other symptom. That's why I was thinking of a pelvic exam. I should be far enough for a measurement to tell us something. Would you be comfortable doing that? Or do you need more information to answer that question?"
Paige thinks about it and nods. "As to the blood, I don't think that's so uncommon for those of our line. There's many of those mundane inconveniences that Shadow is willing to ignore for us.
"Including pregnancy," she adds. "I've been given to believe that intent, at least subconscious plays a role in an Amberite pregnancy.
"But that's philosophy, not physiology. Interested in christening my bed? I haven't had a man there yet, and it's been before the twins since I went wrist deep in a woman," she chuckles.
Hannah hesitates a minute before she laughs despite herself. "I'm not sure it counts, Paige." But she gets up and makes her way over to the unchristened bed. "Do you know centimeters, or do you usually use some other method of measure?"
Hannah arranges herself and watches Paige, not nervous at all about asserting her medical opinions if she feels she needs to.
Paige agrees, it doesn't count, and yes, she is aware of centimenters. Even though the metric system never really caught on in San Francisco, she spent enough time abroad on Shadow Earth to be capable. She washes her hands before starting anything and towels them long enough to minimize their coolness. Random's electricity is complimented when the redhead unshades and shifts a lamp to bring more light to the operation. ("Yes, I know Chadwick's Sign isn't definitive, but we're piling up the circumstantial evidence here, aren't we? Hells, do they even call it Chadwick's where you practiced?")
("Are you talking about Brunnera? The blue? Actually more interested in a general palpatative measurement, because if I had to guess I'd say six weeks and you should be able to feel that.")
"Is there an answer you'd prefer?" Paige asks after examining the concerned structures, graciously accepting Hannah's direction and redirection, and making the appropriate notations.
"I'm conflicted," Hannah admits.
The redhead washes her hands again and sits on the edge of the bed. "For what reasons?" Paige asks.
Hannah puts herself together and sighs. "If I'd planned this, there is a long list of requirements I'd have listed before 'get pregnant.' But I always wanted children, someday. So has someday arrived?" She settles herself back into a chair.
"I think it has," Paige admits. "And if there is anything you need get in order, something of significance, that this is going to interfere with, well... My brother and I will ensure it gets done," she says, before reconsidering. "Of course, I don't have to tell you that neither pregnancy nor motherhood will stop you from accomplishing anything a Power such as yourself sets her mind upon."
Hannah nods. "It was never much different for the women I grew up around, but as a doctor, you can't just take a child everywhere you go. I'll have to find someone to help." This doesn't seem to sit well with her.
"I'm just saying that Edan best be on good behavior, and I'll gladly remind him, sharply, if he's not."
This makes her smile. "Edan has been very good about the situation. I like your brother, Paige. But... he's distracted." Hannah waves a hand in dismissal. "It doesn't matter. We get along well. I'm sure we'll... determine an arrangement."
"Well, what's your current arrangement, before the baby?" Paige asks with more concern than curiousity.
Hannah blushes. "We hadn't really talked about anything formally, I suppose. We're not going to shout the news to the world, but nor am I going to lie about it when directly asked. He's happy." She shifts, tense. "It sounds a little inadequate when I say it out loud. I figured I'd handle the uncomfortable questions as they came, and he'll probably be away for most of the pregnancy."
Paige makes note that she needs to catch up on her brother's agenda, but doesn't interrupt.
"Do you think your father will be interfering? Bothersome, I mean," she asks with a grin to soften the question.
"Interfering? Minimally, I would expect, and only with what he believes are the best intentions when he does," the redhead admits. "Bothersome? It depends on if you believe he's already bothersome. Personally, despite himself, I've never truly seen him as bothersome, no matter how he's chosen to meddle in my life, which is minor, I have to say.
"Now, you've seen the abnormal growth of the twins, and we've discussed at some time the progression of my pregnancy. I don't attribute it all to their heritage through Adonis and Artemis, but mostly from our grandmother Clarissa being...Bothersome."
Hannah's eyes widen in unpleasant surprise. "That would make me quite unhappy. So Clarissa is to be avoided. Your father hasn't been bothersome to me, yet... but I can see he has the potential to flip one's life all around if he chooses to focus his energies that way. I like your father, generally, but he's very likable." There is a certain dry awareness to the last.
Paige chuckles as if to suggest that it's an understatement.
"My father could be bothersome too, if he decided to be. But I think I can get him to hear reason." Hannah's own uncertainty about this statement makes her smile. "I don't know what Gerard will think." She sighs.
"So, your grandmother. If I can't avoid her, do you have any advice on how to stop her from doing whatever she wants? Do you know what she did? A spell?"
"I'd think that Edan can explain better the laws that govern a Lord of Chaos, but my first suggestion is keep to Ordered realms, those with Anchors if possible. Visiting her domain is asking for interference."
Hannah tilts her head. "What, aside from a Pattern, would anchor a place?" This is obviously a new concept to her.
Paige rubs the back of her neck, thinking for a moment. "A wonderful metaphysical question. Nothing save an what we've already been referring to as a Lord of Chaos, although I doubt either my brother or cousin Conner have invested enough Self into their pursuits have developed a significant enough... gravity, if you will, to counter Grandmother's mass."
Hannah looks surprised. "You're saying if someone of enough power stays in a place long enough and... gives it enough attention, that may anchor the place? That's fascinating. But you're also just telling me to stay near a Pattern. That could be tricky. What are the chances your grandmother won't find out she's going to have another great-grandchild, once my pregnancy becomes obvious?"
Paige shakes her head. "I can't imagine that she doesn't have some source of information within Random's realm, but I can't be sure.
"Come to think of it, Conner's a favorite. Is he still taking advantage of the lax dress code in Rebma? She might know already."
Hannah's mouth flattens into a straight line. "We hardly crossed paths down there, but he strikes me as someone with good instincts. On the other hand, it's not as if he's seen Edan and I together. Still, it sounds inevitable." There is no resignation in the statement. If anything, Hannah's just decided something.
"Thank you, Paige. I appreciate your help and honesty. You don't have a trump of Edan, do you?"
"In fact I do," Paige admits. She rises from her chair with slow, almost lazy movement. A few steps to her satchel and there is the ubiquitous packet, this time being unwrapped from purple silk.
She shuffles a few pasteboards, considers for a moment, and then hands the one now on top to Hannah. "And I think you should keep it. I'll arrange to draw another."
"Paige..." Hannah stands, looking at the card with a little smile. It almost seems she'll protest, but instead she breathes an emotional, "Thank you." She hugs Paige.
"Now I just have to figure out how to tell my father. With a post-script, perhaps," she laughs. "Is he doing well in the woods?"
Paige considers a moment, then nods. "She is as suited to him as he is to her, my mistress, The Forest," the redhead decides.
"The twins seem to have taken a shine to him as well," she adds. "I'm unsure which will be the more beneficial side of that relationship."
"I love my father. So you know what follows when I begin there." Hannah shrugs. "He is very good at molding children - well, people - to his needs. My siblings and I always understood we were being groomed for certain roles, but we all wanted to same result - we all understood it was needful for us to be extraordinary. But the pressures were intense and he didn't shirk from making decisions that served the tribe better than us. That's all just ruler-ship, I recognize, but old habits die hard. I know none of this is unusual here, from what I've heard of Oberon, but my father does it with love. Or did. He did lose it all, in the end. It may have changed him."
Hannah smiles that admiring little smile. "But I don't think so."
"Well, I love you well enough, cousin... sister... what ever I'm to call you from here on out, and he seems to have molded you well enough," Paige answers with a mutual smile. "I can't see him being a bad influence on the twins.
"And for the record, whatever friendship we have, well... it's not wholly influenced by your relationship with my brother, not really. We mothers of the next generation need to stick together, don't we? Some sort of sorority is demanded, if only to keep track of all the children."
"Whatever friendship we have started long before I met your brother, when you taught me about trump. I thank you for it. We did a reading when we were in shadow. For Edan. I wish you would have been there to give us your insight."
Paige smiles warmly.
"And I'm so thankful to have a friend to keep track of children with. I've been missing my mothers terribly since I began suspecting. Back there, I would have very much counted on their help. This brings home to me how few people I trust enough to leave my child with."
"And that somehow I number your father among those I leave mine with," Paige chuckles.
Sometime after speaking with Jerod, Garrett decides that he should look for Signy to catch up on her research into the chain. He tries to convince himself that he is NOT procrastinating on the investigation of brothels in search of missing royal children, but he's not quite successful. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself ruefully. Prowling a brothel is a task most lads would jump at. Blast Donovan for raising him to be a gentleman.
When he stumbles across a page, he asks where Signy's quarters are located.
Most days recently, Signy can be found in either one of the castle libraries near to her rooms, or in the smithy. Today is the former, and the page directs her to it, where Garrett finds her slouched in a large chair finishing the last pages of Cambina's book.
She closes the book as he approaches, and gives him a warm smile as he approaches and straightens up in her seat.
"Prince Garrett," she says, giving a cheerful smile. "I meant to find you, but I always seemed to get distracted by something else."
She nods at the chair next to her. "Care to join me for a bit?"
In answer to her question, Garrett slides easily into the offered seat with the grace, or lack thereof, of a 19-year-old boy, his royal status momentarily forgotten. "No worry. I've been running around a bit myself," he assures her. "How long have you been back?"
Signy opens her mouth, before closing it in consternation.
"I think a week or so. I seem to be having trouble keeping track of time recently, I think I'm still getting used to moving around in Shadow and the different flows of Time.
"I'd been planning on heading out again to take care of a bit of unfinished business, but if there's things here you need help with it's nothing I couldn't postpone."
Garrett nods sympathetically. "Yeah, the time shifts can be draining," he agrees. His eyes light with curiosity as he asks, "Unfinished business?"
Signy nods.
"I went out to the Tree to do some investigation. It looked like there was... something in there, but it left so quickly, and right after Vere and Merlin showed up, and we left to head back to Xanadu."
She sighs at the missed opportunity.
"I'd like to go back and at least finish what I'd started."
"That's quite a trip. Can't say that I'd be any help in that regard though," Garrett says with an air of regret, "even if I didn't have other tasks on my list. Will you be taking Tomat and Red Fox Claws with you?"
"Yes. They came here because of me, and they're every bit as much my family as anyone here."
There's a momentary pause before she continues.
"Though, if there's something you could use a hand with, I don't have any set plans that can't be postponed?"
Garrett considers her offer for a long moment. "Well, I'd be happy to have company, but I don't know how much you can help, not being from around here," he says uncertainly. He leans in a bit closer and adds softly, "unless you have some magical means of detecting people who have the Family Blood."
Signy looks a little surprised at this.
"There's no way to do this already?"
She pauses, trying to put something into words.
"I mean, how did anyone know that I was actually part of the family, and not some foundling that Weyland adopted and told a lie to all those years?"
"There are some who can, though I'm not sure how they do it exactly. And I believe you have to be at close quarters to tell even then," Garrett explains. "My task will take a bit more research to know where to start looking."
Signy sighs, before shaking her head. "I've some thoughts, but...." She trails off, not bothering to state the obvious.
"Given how many cousins there are, it seems like this is the sort of thing that would be of great use, though."
She sighs.
"I'll think more, and see if any of the ideas work out."
Robin tugs uncomfortably at her collar as she stands outside the door to Prince Gerard and Lady Corvis' chambers. The girl has cleaned up rather nicely and Castor's hand is evident in her attire. A form fitting vest of pine-green suede accents Robin's curves nicely, leaving no doubt that she is female despite the high collared natural cotton blouse she wears beneath it. The structured brown linen trews she wears below are much more generous of fabric and conservative of cut -- but trousers they are. Her hair has been washed, brushed and arranged in such a way as to hide Robin's more... natural hair ornaments. Though Vere can see the little mouse-skull peeking out from behind a gorgeous ornament of wren feathers.
From behind the door comes the scent of roasted meats, savories, steamed vegetables and freshly baked bread. The occasional clink and scrape of furniture indicates that the Geraldines are just about settled for a quiet dinner in.
Robin nervously shifts the small covered basket she bears, holding fresh apples and a caramel-brandy dipping sauce. With a raised eyebrow to Vere to assure his readiness, she lifts her hand to knock on the door.
Vere smiles at her as she knocks at his parent's door. He is dressed in semi-formal attire of the Isles, a gray léine with elaborate blue embroidery over trews, and a golden torc. His hair is braided, with the coloured lock of hair braided into a true-lover's knot.
Gerard's pet page, Scamp, opens the door, and announces them. "The Lord Vere, and the Lady Robin," he tells Gerard and Corvis.
Gerard is wearing a heavy white linen shirt, cut more generously than his older style so he can move his arms even more freely to maneuver his wheelchair. There is a finely woven blanket across his lap and someone has put his feet into boots, the toes of which poke out from underneath the blanket.
Corvis wears a long gown in bright colors, unlike what she wore as a priestess, which may be the point. The red fabric and blue stitching are brighter and perhaps a little less flattering than they might have been on her in her youth, but perhaps in her age, she can indulge herself. She is standing, having risen from the chair where she must have been seated at the knock on the door.
"Robin, Vere, come in, join us," Gerard says, and gestures them in.
"Father," Vere says fondly, laying a hand briefly on Gerard's shoulder as he passes him. "Mother," he says as he takes Corvis in his arms for a hug, and then kisses her cheek.
"Uncle." Robin chirps as she bounces in after Vere. She juggles the basket briefly, then leans to give Gerard a one armed hug around the shoulders.
Once Vere and Corvis are done, Robin holds out her gift. "We brought dessert." She smiles to Corvis, though there is some uncertainty in her eyes.
Corvis returns Vere's embrace and accepts his kiss with a smile. When Robin offers her the basket, the smile grows even wider. "Thank you, Robin. But please, come and join us." She gestures to the table. "Gerard, Robin and Vere have brought us apples and brandy sauce." The basket she passes to Scamp, who takes it to the sideboard and unloads it.
There's a hearty smile from Gerard. "I do love a good apple. How fare ye this fine day?" The question seems to be extended to both Robin and Vere.
"We are well indeed, Father," Vere answers. He smiles at his mother. "And we have brought large appetites, I assure you."
Robin nods eagerly in confirmation.
"This day has been good." The glance she sends in Vere's direction is full of first-flush-of-love sparkle. "How are you two doing?"
"Well enow," says Gerard, and he's still smiling, with a glance at Corvis, who confirms his sentiment with a nod. "Let's eat, then, if we're all ready." He moves to wheel himself to his spot at the table, the one with no chair at it. Scamp, who has finished emptying the basket and set it aside, comes back to escort Corvis to her place with a gravity more appropriate to Vere than a pre-adolescent boy.
Vere offers his arm to Robin, and escorts her to her own place with a demeanour matching Scamp. He nods slightly to the boy before taking his own seat.
Robin fumbles the arm-taking but only slightly - lessons with Castor are definitely showing. What's harder is keeping the giggle out of her eyes, Robin obviously has trouble with the whole concept of solemnity.
As she takes her seat, she nods her thanks to her hosts and wonder of wonders folds her hands in her lap. Her motions are a little stiff but she doesn't look uncomfortable or uncertain - just concentrating on repeating an unfamiliar skill.
"Let us defer any serious conversation until after we have eaten," Corvis suggests, and then the meal is served.
After dinner, when they have all eaten to their fill and the groaning table has been stripped down to the plates and cloth, the company retires into the sitting room, with after-dinner drinks for those who desire them. Gerard pours; Corvis declines. They seem to be leaving the conversation starting to Vere and Robin, as the guests.
Vere accepts a drink, hard cider if it is available, brandy if it is not. He raises his glass. "To reunion," he toasts.
“Reunion.” Robin confirms heartily, raising her own gin and tonic. “And new beginnings.” She whispers to the rim of her glass with a sparkling glance to Vere.
“Sooooo,” Robin leans back in her seat, “I hope you guys don’t mind, but Vere and I have reached a clearing in our trek. And we thought, if there was anything we could do – I don’t know. To knit the family closer together, I guess.” She finishes with a little swirling gesture between the four of them.
"In what sense," Corvis asks, looking between Vere and Robin. She doesn't seem opposed to the idea as much as uncertain of exactly how Robin means to knit the family closer together. Vere suspects she might be wondering about the magical influences involved.
"Apologies from myself, first," Vere answers. "As I have said to both of you separately, during my travels to Chaos I have been considering my behaviour, and I find much to criticize." He bows to his father. "I have pushed you, Father, based on childish assumptions about your reasons for not doing what I wanted you to do, and no thought to the conflicting duties and concerns which you must balance. For that, I am most heartily sorry."
"Annnnddd," Robin ducks her head but peaks out at the other three from behind her bangs, "I'm always going to feel weird about what happened to Danu." Her shoulders clench a little.
"What's done is done," Gerard says, leaning forward in his chair, drink in hand. "Yer apology is accepted, for what it's worth. We still needs must resolve the matter of your oath, but in due time, I reckon. As for the other--"
Corvis interrupts. "It is as the gods have willed it."
"If we are gods, it is as we willed it, except we all know we make mistakes. If it hadn't been what it was, it would have been something else. Ysabeau's presence and my own, and all we did tangling things in the Isles, happened first. Had it not been for that, what happened at the end wouldna have fallen out as it did." He shrugs. "We all wish things had been different, but they are what they are. We canna mend the teacup, we canna mend the shadow." He does not add a third item to that list.
Vere purses his lips, and for a moment looks as though he is about to argue. He takes a drink instead, and after a moment says, "Robin and I have talked, and we intend to travel together, and aid each other on our various tasks. We hope we have your blessing in this."
Robin nods. She might not have expressed it so...determinedly, but Vere's talking to his own family and he knows what to say here. Her job will be Julian. For a brief moment, she's thankful she's got the easy part.
Gerard nods, his head bobbing up and down. "Ye have my blessing, and, I reckon, your mother's."
Corvis says, "You have my blessing," and perhaps out of habit, makes the gesture of the Lady's blessing from the Isles. "Have you thought on where you mean to go?"
"Thank you," Vere says to both of them with a smile. "As for our plans..." he trails off, looking at Robin.
"Oooo! Thank you!" Robin bursts out, equal parts relief and joy lighting her features. With energy that cannot be contained, the girl bounces out of her chair to hug Gerard firmly and Corvis more carefully but still very sincerely.
The question catches her a little flat-footed and she makes her way back to her chair as she considers. "Ummm, the King first. Then depending on what he says, maybe Arden?" She looks back to Vere. She thinks that's what they decided.
"But..." Robin's gaze turns back to Vere's parents gleefully as an idea occurs to her. "Maybe you can help us?" She leans forward over the table eagerly.
"I haven't had nearly enough time to investigate the... land usage around here. I'd really like to get some sort of dwelling set-up in Xanadu. Not here in the Castle. And not... in the heart of the City, but something close enough that Vere can communicate and travel there easily. Something with waterfront exposure for the Psyche. But with room for the mews and the kennels.
"I... it's just been haunting me that I can't build Vere the nest he deserves." She leans back in her chair. "Would you guys find helping with that to be a burden? Or something fun to do?"
"We could help with some of that," Gerard says. Of course, in his chair, he is limited in terms of finding any home that doesn't come with a walkway and ramps instead of stairs, never mind the sort of walls and trees that Vere and Robin could climb.
Corvis thinks for a moment, and adds, "Castor would also be of use, if you could spare him."
Vere nods thoughtfully. "If he still believes that he has not worked off his debt to me and sufficiently redeemed his honour, perhaps we could consider making him our Steward?" He looks at Robin again.
Robin shrugs. "Works for me." Then chuckles slightly maniacally. "Poor bastard.
"Thing is... I definitely want a home that you guys can come visit or stay with us in. Otherwise, it's no use at all, is it? Besides," she finishes smugly, "I figure that anywhere my Uncle can get into, I can get a horse into." Robin nods satisfied.
Gerard laughs at that. "Probably so, depending on how big the horse is. Are ye planning on yer da bringing Morgenstern as well?"
Vere chuckles. "Shall we need Hellhound proof furniture?"
Robin smiles. "Welll, Morgenstern doesn't like the indoors and the Hounds are cabin-trained but yeah, the house should definitely be able to deal with my type of friends. Lots of roosts for firelizards and Stormhawks too." Robin grins.
"And definitely a way to shelter Vere's papers and books and pens and things from my friends." She nods at her beloved book-keepy man.
"This is quite a house you have planned. Perhaps you should ask the trees to grow you a place that suits," Corvis suggests.
Gerard shakes his head. "I don't think they mean to wait that long, love," he tells her.
"But what an excellent idea for the long term," Vere says, eyes sparkling. He looks at Robin. "Is such a thing possible?"
“Well, of course.” Robin looks a little surprised at the question. “In fact...” she continues, nodding to Corvis, “it was in my original idea-pile. But, books...”
Robin makes a framing gesture with her hands. “They have square corners. So they sit better on square shelves, that go better in square rooms. And it’s just... mean to ask a tree to grow squares.” Her nose wrinkles.
“They’re also made out of paper. Which doesn’t like woven walls or life-moisture. Soooo, I’m thinking that at least a good portion of the house needs to be stone....”
"Then a stone house to start with, and a tree to grow the upper levels, for later." Corvis starts to add something else but thinks better of it and lets that topic go for now.
Vere meets his mother's eyes and gives a very small nod of his head and a smile, to let her know that he noticed and appreciated.
"This is sounding excellent," he says. "I wonder if there might be a possible site on the other side of Xanadu's great mountain, where we could dig into the mountainside, so that the house has foundations and storerooms in living rock? Then a house of stone, built in a forested area of the mountain, with amenable trees incorporated into the stone part of the house, given room to grow?"
"Ooooo." Robin croons, "That's so much better than my original idea." She grins. It was a good idea to bring other people in on the project instead of worrying about it all on her own.
"But.... is that going to be close enough to the city for you guys?" She asks the other three, the people who like people.
"Anything can be got to by Trump," Gerard points out. "But you'd have to be careful of who ye gave the cards to."
Vere nods. "And whom we have draw the trump, as well," he notes.
“Weeeeellll,” Robin drawls as she squirms a little in her seat. “Trumps are one of those things I’m a might squirrely about.” She admits with a blush.
“Maybe we could ask Brita if she could do a small location-to-location thing. Like Ossian’s big refugee-mover, but on a much smaller scale. From somewhere secure in the Castle to a defensible bottle-neck at the Lodge?” Robin ponders out loud.
"Aye, that's how it works at the Castle--in Amber, that is--and I'm sure will work here when Random permits a trump to be made of Xanadu. Barring the part about fixing the location. Do ye mean to have a card fixed to the wall, like in the booth, or some other thing?" Gerard asks. Corvis is listening with interest, as Trumps are not an art she seems to know much of.
Vere frowns. "I am not sure that I like that idea," he says. "I was thinking of having Brita, or someone else, make a trump for Father, of some location within our home, or possibly just outside it. That way he and Mother can visit whenever they wish. Why make it easy for anyone else? They can hike around the mountain if they wish to see us." He smiles at Robin. "I think we would value our privacy."
"Oh, OH!" Robin blinks at Vere. Her eyes take on a happy sparkle and she leans over to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, my Love.
"Okay," she says looking back to Gerard, "so first find the place, then figure the Trump location near the building site, then permission from the King to make a Trump of it, then ask Brita if she'd be willing, then... make a home? Is that a good plan?"
"Roughly," Gerard says, "but ye might want to build part of the house first, to get the defenses right before ye paint."
"In any case," Vere says, "Scouting for the location is the first order of business." He smiles at Robin. "After we have spoken with the King, and perhaps after we have travelled to find your father to speak with him, as well?"
"Whenever is good for you," she nods.
Last modified: 29 December 2012