Moonday Marius

Marius sends a reply [to Brennan's note] that suggests he's available immediately, but might not be available later.

Brennan stops by some time during the next morning. If that's immediately enough, he greets Marius, but does not beat around the bush. After socially required small talk, and assuming Cloudeater is not present:

"She's dead."

Marius takes a moment to scrutinize Brennan's mood and manner, giving him a long, slightly cool look. He could merely be thinking to himself, "Do I offer congratulations or condolences?" but after that moment, he makes his decision. "Not Paige?" he asks, and maybe, just maybe, there's a bit of anxiety there. (After all, she was a woman With Child, and all of them went together, and, well, it's not like Marius is inquiring as to when she'd be back, so...)

Brennan holds that for just half a beat longer than might be strictly necessary. "No," he says, "Not Paige."

If there's relief in Marius about that, it doesn't show in his face...but maybe his eyes.

"My Grandmother's domain is deep in the Courts, and I had more than a small suspicion that we might run across the Aisling."

Ah, it. Well, not that Marius will say that aloud: he suspects Brennan's sympathies might lie more with Jovian's on that measure, but he looks a little bit more interested now...in the way that is addressed with body language and the slightest tilting of the head.

Marius crosses his arms behind his back, leaning against them on the wall. He hadn't sat down when Brennan came to call, maybe because of nervousness, maybe because he thinks better kinesthetically.

In either case, Brennan doesn't mind. He doesn't sit either, though he does tend to lean against available doorframe, arches, or other suitable architectural features. Brennan is all about relaxed readiness.

"I was half right," Brennan says, with gallows humor. "Aisling is dead. But there's a daughter. It wasn't the sort of news I wanted to break by quill and parchment."

"A daughter of the natural way, or of the way of its kind?" Marius asks. "And if the latter, does it bear grudge and knowledge or even the abilities of Order and does it expect to be welcomed in Amber or does it seem fine in Chaos where it is?" The questions are rapid-fire, as if shot off almost as soon as they come to form in Marius' mind.

"Natural enough for Chaosi," Brennan says. "The rest are extremely good questions. There are certainly some memories. She remembers Caine quite clearly, and I think she remembers the rest of us, though with what clarity I can't really say.

"I doubt she has the inclination to come to Amber, right now, but having been reclaimed by Madoc, she may not have a choice even if she wanted to. Madoc was unamused to see his daughter dead."

"That bodes ill," Marius says, "for I had felt Aisling to seem more fond of Madoc than of anyone else, and this Madoc to seem at least somewhat sympathetic to Amber's causes, if only in defense." He seems to consider something. "Brennan, what is the power of Order versus these creatures? As you understand it. Is it Will backed with the Pattern or something different, something more? And what made us different, or are we...these things as well?"

"Difficult to say. Against typical Chaosi? I would expect that to have at least some effect if the Initiate is strong enough and focussed enough. But Aisling and her sire, Madoc are more. They're not simply Chaosi, they are Lords of Chaos, strong enough to impose their own Will on their environment and their lessers. You won't remember it, but that's what Aisling and Merlin did to bring us away from Chaos- they imposed their Will on the valley we occupied, and moved it Amberward," Brennan says. "And of course, Aisling and Madoc share our lineage as much as we share that of Chaos."

"As we acquire more knowledge, things do not become more comprehensible but more mysterious," Marius comments, inadvertently quoting (of all people) Albert Schweitzer. "Is it more or less similar to what we do with the Power Beneath, imposing our own Will on the environment? Or do we cause things to be, and they cause things to..." he gropes for a term, "is?" He gestures with a, "You understand where I'm getting at," kind of grasping idea.

"I'm not sure I do, but I if I do... it seems to me that our abilities work within the rules of where we are, or what we have. The farther one goes into Chaos, though, the fewer rules one has, and the less they matter. Much in Clarissa is ruled directly by my grandmother's whim," Brennan says.

"Are they similar enough to have a common language?" Marius asks, interested. He seems to feel Brennan's answer to be sufficient, but pursues the point more idly. "After all, it would be good to know if Chaos has a similar Thing in the Basement or if our thing is an initiation into the same style of power. With Corwin and Random both making such grand designs, I worry about who else had the power and opportunity. Certainly, it would not surprise me to find this Dara to have the driving will, or even..." he stops there and shrugs. "Or even others." If he had a name in mind, he isn't sharing.

"Brand had his plans, yes, if that's what you're trying not to say," Brennan says. There's no rancor in it, because there's no point to denying it. "As to others, your guess is as good as mine. I am inclined to believe not, though."

Marius smiles grimly, and shakes his head. "No, I meant it when I said I did not hold your heritage against you - I would accuse your father of many things, if only I understood them well enough to make the accusation." His smile is still thin-lipped, but it widens a moment, "And the questions I would have of him I would not think pertain to you. So no, but it was a good guess." There is pain somewhat around his eyes, but it lessens after a moment. "I wonder about numbers. How many Patterns may one universe hold?"

Brennan shrugs, both to the question, and to the issue of Brand's plans.

"What made you think Madoc was sympathetic to Amber?"

"Something Aisling said in the interrogation after the Coronation Ball. Our little spy said," his eyes turn to look into memory, "he `made his life out on the farthest edge of the universe,' that `his family had used him poorly,' and that the information being sent might have been used to fend his family off. I recommended at that point a rescue mission. Lilly and yourself suggested we know more about Madoc. Aisling deflected the question, trying to impress us with the nugget of Madoc's connection to the once Queen Clarissa," he says it off-handedly, like it was just a matter of history, not a living, breathing, Chaosi, "and added later that..." he pauses, not wanting to call it an "it" in front of Brennan, and changes his wording, "Borel's spy wasn't ready was why Aisling was sent. But in matters of family loyalty, I believe Aisling showed great sympathy to Madoc. If we believe anything said of the events of that night, he was the only thing we truly saw Aisling care for." He shrugs. "Of course, he also sent Aisling to spy on us. I could put a positive spin on that, too, but it was just an impulsive feel on it."

Brennan shrugs. "That Aisling was devoted to Madoc, I have little doubt. That Madoc's... estrangement... from the rest of his siblings made him sympathetic to Amber is a comforting thought, but not one I'd be willing to gamble on."

Marius nods in agreement and understanding.

"I wish I'd had more time to talk to Madoc, this time, but circumstances weren't in favor. Aisling's death was a directly result of Grandmother's trying to take her from Caine's prison-- that which she managed to remove was not enough to remain Aisling, and became Saeth." Brennan's delivered the news enough times that he can say that with only a mild grimace. "Or at least, that's the story... and it is exactly like my grandmother to rip someone apart trying to collect them for a family reunion." The grimace deepens.

"Except Aisling didn't stay...ripped apart." Marius' expression swiftly goes from almost anger to laughter.

"Oh, but she did," Brennan says, very seriously. "That's exactly why she's no longer Aisling."

"Oh, please, please be sure to have me nowhere nearby when our dear Jovian next insists on Aisling's humanity. This is something so far apart from the mortality we recognize, and I am," [Marius] grins wildly, "so glad I am not a dear member of your own."

"Yeah," Brennan says, "about that." And he folds his arms casually over his chest. "Do everyone a favor, would you? Try and maintain some basic politeness, at least where Jovian is likely to get wind of it? You two are arguing off entirely bases, but human or not, she meant a lot to him.

"I'll even say please, if that's the deal-breaker."

Marius sighs, shrugging. "I would not have you in the middle." He seems to mean that quite strongly. "It seems somewhat foolhardy to allow him his delusions, but I know of little in the way of persuasions that can break the illusions of the heart. Lest I become responsible for the armour for that portion of his anatomy, I will attempt to avoid addressing our disagreement on the issue, mayhap even to the point of calling Aisling by the feminine pronoun in his presence. It is easy enough to accomplish," he admits.

"Thank you," Brennan says. A moment later, he concedes, "There's some good arguments to be had on the subject. I just don't think Jovian is likely to enjoy the philosophic dispute. At least, not right now."

Marius just nods.

"Setting all the emotional issues here on the back burner," since Jovian wasn't present, "one big question is whether Saeth and Madoc blame Grandmother or Caine more for Aisling's death. It's probably too much to hope that they'll factor in Aisling's own... errors... into the mix."

Marius' amusement sobers quickly. "I would not count on it for an instant. Pain and rage drown out reason. Of more immediate concern to myself is whether or not this Saeth mentioned the Cloudeater. I have, after a discussion with Dame Lilly, become, for the nonce, its Lord." He looks almost embarrassed.

For a moment, Brennan is shocked, but the shock quickly turns to amusement. Lip-biting, heavily surpressed amusement, before he gets that back under control.

"I ask you seriously, Cousin, could Brand have ripped a piece of me out and somewhere there be an affinated portion? What made the difference between Lords of Chaos and Lords of Amber? And rather than have it die for the lack of command, I see little immediate harm in its following me, convinced as I am of my own honour and nobility in pursuits."

There's no gentle way to break this news. The best Brennan can manage to do is compose his face and mostly his voice, before saying, "Marius? You are a Lord of Chaos."

A number of warring emotions cross Marius' face, and he looks away, struggling so as one of them becomes the victor. He seems to recede some, and then shrugs, as if the decision had been made and the rest of the concerns were sloughed off with one shake of the shoulders. "Funny, I only became a Lord of Order a couple of days ago." He's got that, "Perhaps I can collect the whole set," attitude. It morphs into a strange sort of pride, the, "OK, well, I'll just have to bring honour and dignity to the role of Lord of Chaos," set of his jaw and shoulders. "Or is it just a title?"

"You became a Lord of Chaos as soon as Cloudeater became your affine," Brennan says. "Cloudeater is a creature of the stuff of Chaos; you are its lord; syllogistically, all follows from those points. How did you manage that?"

A breath of relief seems to relax some of Marius' extraordinary tension, although he does still seem wired as per his usual nature. "I do not believe I am except in that title; the creature asked me and I agreed, not wanting to see it suffer. There was no binding of power such as I understood it, no oath, no exchange of blood or ceremony. But, I take my responsibilities seriously; I will allow no harm to come to it that it does not bring upon itself, and less, should I be able to prevent it."

"You... might want to consult with Merlin," Brennan says, "As the closest thing to an expert we've got. I thought it would require more than spit and a handshake, myself. But that should reassure you about Brand's having affinated a part of you, while you were out. Besides, you've proved your blood, quite a long time ago as I recall. I doubt there's any better protection than that."

"True, true," Marius repeats himself as if answering two questions. "When you wandered, Cousin," the inflection is almost closer, warmer, like 'brother', "is it more a matter of how far or how near Amber that you strayed? Might I seek some advice on places you would recommend I avoid?"

"Yes, avoid my Grandmother's Court," he says sourly. "Avoid the Courts all together, if you can. What are you seeking?" Brennan asks.

Marius' expression grows enigmatic for a moment, and it may be difficult to determine whether or not it's a result of Brennan's answer or his question. The question about the pause would likely be, "Are his next words lies or intimate?" He takes a breath and lets it out slowly before answering. "Personally, or the given reason for our mission?"

"If you're going out far enough that you need anyone's advice," Brennan says, "I'd bet they'll both matter. Deeply."

"Ossian searches for clues regarding his origins. I search for answers to questions better left unasked." There's some distance between Marius and his reply, a distance that's more 'not the whole truth, but not a lie, either.'

"I know nothing of Ossian's origins, except that they do not lie in Uxmal," Brennan says. "I asked sources I consider to much more reliable, and with much longer memories than Ambrose. As to unasked questions, I'm not going to drag it out of you just to shower you with my advice."

"I still hear the word 'Uxmal' to suggest some sort of accursed place, although perhaps it is merely someone else's term for paradise," Marius notes conversationally, allowing the sentence to mask the furious thinking he is doing in regards to the conversational dance.

"Objectively speaking," Brennan says, "I've been worse places."

Marius has no doubt of, and no comment to that.

"I have been warned away from the Courts time and time again, and yet, that is the source of many of my questions. Is there some bridge, some connection, some commonality that will be both accessible and acceptable between us? You say one of the past Queens of our very Realm exists there: what did King Oberon know that we did not? That is the real mystery, and an answer that possession of a red gem seems unlikely to provide our current monarch." He laughs. "My aim is high, but I pursue it through knowledge rather than violence."

"Grandfather was laid to rest in Primal Chaos," Brennan reminds Marius, after a perceptible pause. "Think about it."

"Oh, I have, I have," Marius laughs. "And who wished it? Did he? Was he still so frought with the energies of making his final play, or did someone not want to see him rise again in some other way? Did he begin and end there? Those are questions. Do they relate? What of blood and brood and Order and other? I do not wish to rule--by all that is holy, not that! But I do wish to _know!_"

"It was his wish, Cousin. So said Dworkin, and I have no reason to doubt it. And all things considered, as far as I'm concerned, he did begin and end there."

"And that's it? I must declare that I am disappointed in you, Cousin. `He is gone, and thus, no curiousity remains.' For me, the mystery still beckons. It is a siren's call, and I will seek it piece by piece." Marius seems to have wound down at this point.

"I don't want to belittle your quest, Marius," Brennan shrugs, "But it's only a mystery if you don't know the answer. I've had a long time to cozy up to the idea of my heritage, remember. That you took CloudEater as an affine wasn't the only reason I called you a Lord of Chaos. Now," he says, "if you find out the history behind the whole schism, before all the wars... That's something I'd be positively fascinated to hear."

Marius laughs at Brennan. "Heritage?" he manages to gasp out. "Oh dear. That's not my aim," he adds, after a moment. "If that had ever mattered--" he breaks off and shakes his head, still chuckling. He moves over to open the door for Brennan. "Thank you, Cousin. You've given me much to think about," he says in a sort of dismissal.

Brennan replays the last bit of the conversation in his head, quickly, then shrugs. "Drop by any time you've got questions you don't want answered," and turns to leave. Then, remember one last thing, he adds: "And back to the original question-- Madoc's Court is probably an even worse target than Grandmother's. This branch of the Family is not likely to be in good graces with Madoc, right now, and it's hard to remember which memories Saeth will have of us."

Unless Marius has more, Brennan departs, bemused.

In the day (Moonday, I believe) between his discussion with Brennan and his rendezvous with Paige, Marius wants to draw some Cards, with the question at the forefront of his mind being a generalized, "What does my future bring?"

Marius performs the traditional six-card spread, as his mentor taught him.

The meanings of the fortune cards are here.

Bottom row

Past: Deirdre
Present: Striking the Dragon's Tail
Future: Sowing Stones, reversed

Middle row

Virtue: Death, reversed
Fault: War

Top row
Fate: The Cockatrice, sideways

None of Marius' significators appear in the reading, although Deirdre's appearance in the Past can be read as something like a significator.

The middle row can make sense as either Virtue and Fault or as competitors. If it is Virtue and Fault, Marius feels that it may relate to his affination of Cloudeater. Normally, he'd expect to see Law as the Virtue, which would suggest that it's two competing factors.

The Cockatrice can be taken as a metaphor for his personal situation, but it might also refer to the larger situation with Amber.

All in all, it's a difficult reading, and does not suggest an easy road. But it doesn't leave him with the impression that the situation is hopeless or that the outcome is fixed, particularly with the positive card in the Future.

[timing: after his talk with Brennan, later that evening]

Marius' sprint towards the kitchens is stopped with a start. He's quiet except for the beating of his heart in his ears, as he watches Paige lean forward, addressing one of the castle staff in preparing some of what we would call "midnight snacks."

His brain rushes through a number of opening lines, choosing only to speak up with, "I would like some of that as well," towards the young man, and then turning towards Paige with a slight flush on his cheeks. "So." He takes a breath. "You've returned, then?" Inwardly he cringes at the lame choice of words.

Paige turns to the voice, her emerald robe spinning with her and flashing long bare legs beneath. Her feet are also bare, even on the cool kitchen flagstones. "So, I have," she greets with a smile, framed by a spill of flame red hair. She must've just brushed it out as it hangs halfway down her back.

Marius' eyes are guardedly kept to appropriate targets, and they follow instructions, so no unauthorized spy missions along the curves, no lagging amongst the round bits of the bare toes, no imagination. No! Bad imagination! Bad boy! Down! OK. Under control.

"I suppose I could observe that you, unlike so many of our cousins, are still here," she says hopping backward onto one of the tables and drawing her legs up under herself and her robe. She seems content to wait on her food. "Not off to enjoy the wonder that is Xanadu, like everyone else, Marius?" She tastes his name with her tongue, realizing this might be the first time they've really spoken.

Marius' eyes seem to dilate slightly as she uses his name, and he slowly moves near her, presumably to give more room to the bustling fellow now making an extra large portion of snack food. He smiles sadly. "While Xanadu is not my immediate destination, and I hate to disappoint a lovely lady such as yourself," he says, a bit of a blush almost across his cheeks, "I must admit that my plans do take me away from here soon." He has looked away towards his feet, but his position puts her feet right in his gaze. His eyes snap back up quickly to look at...the wall.

Paige smiles warmly at the 'lovely lady' bits, but seems concerned that he won't look at her. "We redheads aren't all sorceresses, Sir Knight. I won't steal your soul with a look in your eyes," she admonishes but the warmth in her tone should take the sting away.

She leans over, the smell of jasmine filling his space, and whispers in a teasing tone, "For me it takes a Trump sitting or two."

Marius almost jumps, and then laughs aloud, partially at himself, partially because he's that wired. "And you would banish the redhead mystique that quickly, milady?" he asks, smiling more naturally for a moment. He glances at her, then moves his eyes to meet her own. There's...well, definitely a little bit of fear, but maybe a hint of sadness there, as well. He is on the edge of overwhelmed, giving little explanation as to why.

Paige smiles and offers only the simplest of non-commital shrugs and a wink. "I could offer you my secrets for days, cousin, and I promise to still be a mystery."

"Of course," Marius says, trying to come across more nonplussed than he actually is. "You are woman," he notes, and it's a shy smile. Somehow, the way he says it, it sounds more like "Lady," with all that's implied.

Paige flutters her eyes at the flattery.

Leaning back, Paige wonders aloud, "So, parts unknown then, or a mission for the Court Jester?"

"To my knowledge, Ossian hasn't yet aspired to that position," Marius begins, with a smile. "But he has a goal to pursue, and I have my own mysteries," he suggests. "Besides, I go at the whim of the King, who gave me a gentle prod in this direction." His smile turns slightly sardonic. "The search for knowledge is almost as noble as the search for experience, I suppose," he waxes philosophically. (Because, after all, philosophy leaves your palms hairy. Erm.)

Paige bites her tongue on the topic of experience, her own being non-existent since shortly after the twins were conceived. "While he affects the carefree airs, I don't think many of his suggestions are whims."

"As he has the mantle, throne, and crown, his merest wish is a command," Marius seems to be agreeing, or maybe he's missing the point. If so, he's doing it deliberately.

"What knowledge do you seek?" Damnit, that wasn't supposed to come off like a double entendre, she thinks.

"The delicious secrets you referred to earlier, of course," he says, sidling up to her and taking her face gently in his hands and pressing forth to lick just along the line of her jaw up to her ear...

Or not.

"Oh," it seems to slip out of Marius', an unguarded utterance. It would have been followed by an "um," from just about anyone else. He quickly regroups. "Myself?" He gestures as if there could be anyone else, but continues, making it rhetorical. "`The secrets that still are remembered,' I think Ossian put it." He smiles, but looks nervous, like maybe there were a few things he didn't mention.

Paige's answer is cut short by the servant's return with the requested snacks. She hops from her perch on the counter and takes up the platter and the jug of wine. "Will you join me in my rooms, Marius?"

As long as there is a loaf of bread, he'll have thou...I mean. [heh] Happiness enough and all that. Marius makes a show of waiting a second or two, looking around, and then grinning.

"The twins are abed, and sleeping well most nights, but they're also still getting used to the Castle," she admits. "I like to be close in case they wake. No reason that either of us should eat alone."

"I can think of no better offer to tempt me," he says aloud, hiding the sudden dismay of the, "OMG!!! Squee!!" expression that crossed his mind. Erm. That isn't quite right, but he does kick himself mentally to learn smoother ways of dealing with women. (Hmmm. Who can teach him this?) "Shall we adjourn?" he will let her lead the way.

Paige heads up backstairs and through a few sevants ways before leading Marius to the end of a hall in the family wing. Her bare feet pad along the carpet as she makes her way to the last door on the left.

"They could sleep through most any noise, but if they rouse enough to catch interest in something or someone, they'll be up all night," she cautions as she hands him the wine jug and opens the door.

Paige sets the platter on a coffee table in front of the long low couch that's currently covered with her pillow and a comforter. Before waving him to one of the nearby chairs, she asks, "Would you like to see them?"

Marius smiles, one of those genuine smiles that lights up the whole face. The funny thing about it is that there's a level of almost trembling nervousness in it as well as he nods, silently. "I'll hold my breath," he suggests, in a very quiet tone.

Paige takes his hand and leads him into the bedroom. [If I only had a dollar for everytime I could've written that sentence...] There are numerous pillows and blankets piled around the edges to keep the twins from rolling off the bed. There in the middle of Paige's large bed are two bundled forms, one in green and another in blue. Small tufts of redhair peek from the blankets as do hands and little fingers. In the seeming miles of sleeping space available, Leif and Brooke seem to be intent on sleeping on top of each other. Paige's eyes reflect the dim candle light as she smiles at Marius.

Marius seems fascinated, almost as if he had never seen children before. He watches them for a while, so quiet that it might indeed be that he is holding his breath. The expression on his face is so soft it might be construed as a form of worship.

After a few minutes of this, he looks up at Paige, and his smile matches hers. He'll gesture to the outer rooms, and let Paige close the door.

He paces for a moment, looking around Paige's room in a casual manner, not peering, but just observing. He turns around. "They're too little for such worries as have been rested on them." His left hand is actually on his knife, and there's a look of anguish on his face.

"Then I'll have to shoulder those for them," Paige explains resolutely. She regains her place on the couch and draws the blanket over herself before pulling her knees to her chin. A moment's silence is broken by her smile at his ready hand. "I hope that's for cutting the fruit," she says gently.

The room is a bit of organized chaos. (As opposed to Clarissa, which was a bit of reorganized Chaos) There are shelves with a scattering of books, an easel with a draped canvas, a desk with her shoulderbag and sketchbook. Tucked into the corner of the blotter is a children's drawing of what appears to be 2 ladies and a little girl, with purple, red and yellow hair respectively. There's a coronet and some sheet music beside the one wing chair. What's left in the room is partially crated, like it's being moved in or out.

Marius moves his hand quickly off the hilt as she points it out, looking surprised and kind of guilty at the same time. He sighs, and then with a whirl takes it out to make that contribution. He piles some of the bread and cheese together with it and offers her some as he thinks to himself.

She accepts a few slices of apple to go with the cheese with a silent, "Thanks."

After a moment he shakes his head. "You shouldn't have to shoulder it alone," he suggests, sounding very serious. "Even more than that, you _don't_ have to," he says.

At the his first comment, she smiles her thanks. With the second, it spreads to her eyes, touched by his concern.

He moves to sit across from her. "I dreamt of you," he says.

Paige is speechless for a moment, which she covers with sampling the apple. "Like the dreams that the others have been having since the war?" she asked tenatively. She pulls the blanket a little tighter as if she could feel the mood in the room change.

He pauses. "Maybe. I don't know." He looks up at her, and his hand extends. Then, as if it had done it of its own accord, he chastises it by pulling it back quickly. "I meant it with the not having to...I understand you're their mother, and the responsibility is yours, but I think that you have lov...support in other places," he says, awkwardly. "I dreamt that you were remained here, in Amber, until it was devoured by the Green. That you read my Cards. That you..." the beginning of a blush spreads across his cheeks. "That you told me what to seek in Shadow." Other things obviously happened in his dream.

Paige looks thoughtfully at her cousin. "If you wish, I can make parts of that dream self-fulfilling. My cards are in the shoulderbag there on the desk." Her tone is light, attempting to chase away the shadows of the Green.

Marius smiles generously. "I have made an attempt at reading the cards, searching them for obvious signs and portents," he offers, adding just enough to the mocking tone to suggest that it would have to be a blatant sign to get through his thick head.

"It's odd, but I dreamt of something similar not long after Liefandbrooke were born," she admits. "Fighting as vines and creepers climbed from the City. At my left was a man in green and white, his bow singing as his red locks flew in the wind." Her gaze flits to the doors to her bedchamber. "At my right was a sorceress in blue and gold, the fires of her anger blazing like her hair."

She closes her eyes, remembering the nightmare clearly. "We stood on the stair as the Castle crumbled about us, and the thorns of the vines cut me, even as the defenders were drawn from my sight." She shudders and opens her eyes, green touched with tears.

Marius reaches out to lay the very lightest touch of his hand on her shoulder. "Our dreams are like the cards, and open for interpretation. Perhaps," he smiles, and moves his fingers to slide against her cheek, and then he pulls his hand back, not quickly, but carefully. "Perhaps," he repeats, "they are but symbols to guide and warn us. You were," he chuckles soundlessly, "quite stubborn in my dream, insisting on waiting until the last minute, but for who or what, it was not clear." He turns away slightly, looking boyish for a moment. "I promised I'd be back for you," he says. "I would keep that promise," he adds, looking back at her, but not quite meeting her eyes.

The shock passes from her face before he finds it again, but not from her voice. "Oh, shit, Marius.

"I'm missing something, and that's not like me," she says lifting his chin with a soft touch. Her eyes find his, searching for more.

She leans in and kisses him, gently.

Marius' breath hastens as the kiss breaks. He looks panicked, his eyes wide and showing a hint of white.

"There's more to your dream than flirting, and I don't know if I can live up to that," she explains, her voice warm on his lips. "If you're asking something, I don't know that I can answer. If you're offering something, I don't know that I can accept."

"No, no, no," he says, and each of the words are answers to different things, but not to what she said. "I... you are blood... Cousin... it's not right. I am...I am sorry," he says. "I do not want you to think that I want something so," the words fail him. He wants "selfish," but it's also sounding like, "foolish." Then something stronger steps out, as if something else took over from his panic. "You are the most beautiful woman...and you have been treated poorly. I would not have that. You are too...precious." He kicks himself mentally for the word. "I...I offend you. I should go." He will turn and flee for the door.

Paige doesn't let go, in fact she pulls him on the couch beside her. "You'll offend me if you do go, Marius," she explains gently, her hand holding his.

Marius hesitates, and she will be able to feel his hand shake for a moment. "No," he says, taking a great effort to speak. "Not now. I'm not...neither of us is ready." He manages to spit out the rest, "This isn't the time."

Her other hand brushes long red locks from her eyes before laying over his. She takes a deep breath before starting. Her eyes are soft and caring, still touched by her earlier tears. "I don't know what Chaos was like, Marius, but life goes by so quickly we have to make time."

His smile is wry, and he brings up his other hand to gently complete the hold. "I will be back for you. I promise."

"And what do you hope to come back to?" she asks, her eyes searching his.

Marius' smile turns warmer. "I look towards the beginning, even if I find it at the end." His eyes say, "You."

"There's alot more to this than what you see, Marius," she answers. "You don't really know me, yet."

That wrenches a laugh from him. "Who ever really knows another? What is immortality for, then?" He lets go of her hands, pulling back. "I will come back for the chance to know you, wherever and whatever you be."

Paige nods once, gently. "Why wait? Why come back?" she says softly, her eyes examining his hands.

"You could stay tonight," she whispers to herself.

"My heart is still in winter," he says. "I do not know if it has ever seen the spring." His smile almost bursts out, and the look in his eyes says, "I lie: it has seen you."

She holds out a hand to him. "I'm not Winter, nor Spring. Although, what seems ages ago, I was Summer." What her hand offers is clear enough in her posture.

Marius' expression holds a sparkle of merriment. "All things in their season," he says, implying that he does not entirely believe her. He bows to her, a quick ducking, and a step closer to leaving. In fact, if she does not stop him he'll slide around to hold the door between them. "I will return," he repeats, this time on a much more hopeful note.

Paige steps closer kissing him again softly in farewell.

Her eyes flash with amusement as she turns back to her desk. Scant moments later she's offering Marius something, the green silk scarf that normally holds her Fortunes. "Knights should always carry a lady's favor." She ties it about his arm.

"We'll decide what you're championing when you return," she says emphasizing the lack of question on the matter.

"My lady," he breathes the words. A multitude of desires war inside him, and that tension is obvious, but the one that wins is not only honourable, but noble, too. "Until then..." he looks as if to linger, but then moves away.

Marius will stand in the hall a few feet away, hand lightly stroking the scarf. He moves back to his room, an odd, speculative look in his eyes.

Paige watches the door close and stands unmoving for a long moment. When she does move, she goes straight to her desk and the unwrapped Fortunes. Smooth deft fingers deal a pyamid, "What does his trip hold in store?" she whipers as she flips the cards.

The cards are as follow:

Bottom row:

Striking the Dragon's Tail
The King
The Unicorn (reversed)

Middle row:

The Soldier
Inspiration (reversed)

Top row:

Overlooking the Diamond