Auntie Robin

The meeting in the office dissolves, with Bleys heading one direction and Corwin and Hannah in another. The Marquess is dispatched back to the Naval Club and midshipmen start fetching new furniture for Caine's office. It takes a few minutes for everyone to leave, but soon enough, Robin is the only member of the family left.

Caine gives her an inquiring look. "You have other business to report?"

"Yep." Robin says. "I'm here. But only for a short while, then back to Arden. With me, I've got... uh, three little mostly-feral fire-breathing lizards. They're not related to the Dragon and I'd appreciate it if no one shot 'em while I was here.

"I've got other house-keeping chores too, but since you're likely to busy," she gestures around the scorched office, "who should I bother?"

'And look, no uncles are killed,' she thinks loudly.

If Caine is reading Robin's mind now, he's not letting on. "Depends on what they are. The Steward will need to know about the fire-lizards; I'll let Venesch know myself so the Guard doesn't get after them."

"Thank you." Robin says. "The Steward can probably help with the others too. But folks," meaning Family, "should probably know that Jovian and the Riders are... off-duty." Robin lets her gaze float around the rest of the room. She doesn't want to go into it. At all.

"That's important to know." Caine's voice makes it clear that it's not as useful as having a draconic air force at his disposal, but he sounds phlegmatic more than annoyed. "Is your father in need of assistance?"

"I don't know." Floaty, floaty gaze. "I haven't been able to get ahold of him."

"I'll leave you to do that. If he is, we have three of us in the Castle now, but I'd rather not leave without telling anyone where I'm going again. It tends to panic the Navy. If he's not--I have a castle and a city to run, and everything I was working on has just vanished in a puff of Bleys' magic. Is there anything else?" It's not quite a dismissal, but comes close to one.

"Nope." And Robin skedaddles at speed out of the office.

It's a while before Robin looks around. To find herself lost again.

With a resigned sigh, she looks around. The room? is tall, narrow and windowless. Thin wooden bars bristle out of the dark stained walls and dusty low shelves line the... In a flash of orientation, the girl realizes she's in a closet.

Robin exits through the door she came in, a blush coloring her face, and looks around wildy for a page or someone who can take her to 'the Steward.'

She is able to find one, and in short order explain to the Steward what she needs. She is reminded where her quarters in the castle are, and any desires she may have in terms of clothes, food, or other details are dealt with. Food is delivered wherever she might feel like eating, within the castle or on a terrace; if she wishes a bath, one is provided; if she merely wants privacy, that can also be arranged.

Robin learns the Trump Booth has been dismantled and taken to Xanadu, but she is able to speak with Sir Brennan's secretary and Vere's to learn whatever she may ask of them. The records of the Order of the Ruby are updated according to Robin's news about Jovian and his dragonriders.

If Robin wants, after that she can climb up and have dinner with her friends.

After a bewildering time of dealing with non-Rangers, Robin has her assurance that Vere's office is safe and that her duty to the Rubies has been done for now. With a smile, she gathers up a rough meal of bread and meat - lots of meat - and climbs up to the roof of Castle Amber.

Once somewhat free once more and up in the airs, she looks around with sparkling eyes and whistles out for her little fire-breathing friends.

The fire-lizards pop into the air above her, scolding her for taking so long. They were worried, and hungry!

Robin laughs joyfully at their antics, enduring their scolding with good humor and getting food into them as fast as possible. She loves them little guys, yes she does.

They eat with abandon, stuffing themselves. Robin can almost see the individual chunks of meat pushing out against the little lizard's swollen bellies.

Sated, they settle on and about Robin for a nap.

Once the guys are asleep, Robin Listens to them very carefully, specifically searching for any of that annoying discordant buzz. Hopefully, the sweethearts have pooped it all out, but checking does seem in order.

There is no such buzz. The roof of the castle is amazingly peaceful. In the far distance, she can hear the forest, the castle, and the city, but for the most part the breeze up here reminds her most of gliding.

Robin stretches and wriggles comfortably in the lizard pile. The breeze, the peace smooths all the rough edges that being in the Castle and her Family always brings. A contented sigh drifts out of her lips and she closes her eyes.

But can't seem to rest. Something tickles at the edge of her mental pinions. She's forgetting something. A little moue creases her forehead. What, what, what?

Green eyes fly open. Grand-niece belly-dancer! Alone with Bleys. What did he call her... Brij? Something like that. Ah, dung. Time to get up.

Robin shifts herself gently out from under the fire-lizards, doing her best not to wake them. She kisses each gently on the snout. And with a sigh, takes herself back into the decaying rock-pile of the Castle to see if she can... what? Comfort a new Family member? Steal Bleys' prize ou from under his nose? Something. Robin doesn't know. And really wishes that Folly or Paige or Ossian or at least one other of her 'nice' cousins was here.

With some difficulty, Robin is directed to the suite of rooms that, as the castle staff describe her, "the Prince's Intended's Mother" is supposed to be in. The woman opens the door to let Robin in. She's wearing what looks like a man's waistcoat, cinched in the back and flaring halfway to her knees. Her arms and legs are bare and her hair is wet, but not dripping. Her pants are laid out on the bed.

"Hello," she says with a smile, "I'm Brij. If you're looking for Bleys, he had to step out."

Robin does her best to return the smile. "Actually, I was looking for you."

"Hi, I'm Robin. And since I figure I'm your closest relative in residence, I thought I'd drop by and see if you needed anything." There! That wasn't too bad. Maybe she can do this. Though lurking memories of her various 'conversations' with Daeon remind Robin not to get too cocky.

Brij's eyes light up. "How nice! Come in, please. Everything's a whirl, and I didn't have time to even pack any clothes, but Bleys is sending for his tailor from the town." She steps aside to let Robin in. The room is awash in memorabilia and portraiture. "We can sit on the balcony. The view of the city from here is amazing." She looks back at Robin. "How are we related?"

"Thank you," says Robin as she steps into the room. Her eyes take in all the... stuff. The balcony is a great option when compared to the... suff and Robin's steps are eager as she follows Brij toward the open air.

"We're gran... no, wait. Aunt and niece. I think my father is your grandfather."

She laughs, pleasantly. "I'd've guessed you were younger than my daughter, Auntie." Her eyebrows go up slightly. "How does one address an honored elder family member around here?"

Robin blinks and then laughs at the 'Auntie.' "Weeellll, an honored elder would probably be addressed as 'sir' or 'ma'am.' Or if you're rrreeaaalllly needing a favor, 'your highness.' But me you can address as Robin," she finishes with a grin.

Brij leans over the balcony, staring down at the city and the sea. "I can see why everyone left," she says, mostly to herself.

"Me, too." Robin says sadly, breathing deeply in of the ocean air and missing the vibrant song of the land she grew up in. Then she realizes that Brij probably meant something else. She raises an eyebrow to a lady.

"It's amazing here, although Bleys tells me it once was even more magical, but that's moved to the new place." She waves her arm at the city below.

"At home, I'm... my family is considered to be cursed, by those who are inclined to think such things. There are people who think I murdered my own daughter and everyone she ever got close to." She looks sad. "Somebody made a movie that was 'loosely based on the true events of the disappearance of Folly Mayhap and the members of Happenstance'. They played me as the serial killer in it.

"I knew where Folly and Syd went, but there was nothing I could say. Who'd believe me? The Fairy King took them back to Magicland? Then it was Soren, Ash, and all her friends." She looks down again. "I'm better off here than back there. It's so beautiful. Also, my neighbors don't worry about who I've buried under the floorboards."

Robin takes that all in quietly as she looks out over the city.

"Ouch," she murmurs sadly and with sympathy. And then, if Brij lets her, Robin gathers her neice into a warm, sheltering hug. "Welcome, Brij. We're glad that you are here with us."

Brij accepts it and sighs, sounding happy. After a moment she says "I asked Bleys about how things work here, why there's no electricity or central heating and the plumbing is so primitive, and he said he could really explain it without teaching me a lot of mathematics. Is there an answer for someone who doesn't want to learn math again?"

Robin nods and looks around herself. Striding into the stuff room, she rummages around in a cabinet until she finds a couple of glasses and a nice mellow red. Returning to the balcony, she plops down in a chair, opens the wine, pours two glasses, takes a big swallow and leans back.

"First, the caveats. Most of what I'm about to tell you only became common knowledge recently and there's still a lot of 'putting the pieces together' going on. And as far as knowing what's going on goes, I'm pretty young in the firmament, been on the outside for a lot of it, not... really given to paying too much attention and mostly self-taught. Soooooo...." Robin shrugs one-shoulder wryly.

"The universe according to Robin."

Brij lifts her glass at this.

"I guess the 'stuff' comes first. Yep. There was stuff. Fleeting, impermanent, unconnected stuff. 'Cerulean' bumped up against 'giddiness' floated around 'the smell of wet cement' rubbed shoulders with 'grass.' There was no straightforward linear time as we think about it. No discrete beings-who-are-made-up-of-stuf. Just... stuff.

"I know about this because I've met some beings who are descended from that. And they're... really different people. Not necessarily evil." Robin smiles as she remembers Aisling. "But so very, very different that sometimes it's hard to tell.

"Then comes King Oberon. I don't know how or why or where from. Just that King Oberon became." Robin shrugs. Definitely a hole in her understanding, but what can you do? "The King created something. We call it a Pattern. I think that's a pretty good word for it, though I think of it more as a Symphony or an Arrangement. What it did, was take some of stuff that Oberon liked or thought was important or useful and... held it together, permanent, fixed. In... patterns." Robin smiles. "Stuff like straight-forward linear time, gravity, thermodynamics, contiguity, cellular growth, DNA... thought." Robin looks over at Brij with eyes that say she knows this is big and weird, but again, what can you do? Looking back at her wine, Robin continues with the next landslide.

"I think it was Oberon who decided that people would mostly be self-sustaining collections of carbon-based molecules suspended in a bipedal, bilaterally-symmetrical, water-saturated, osmetically-sealed container directed by intermittent electro-chemical processes." She wrinkles her nose. "'Cause trust me, the stuff-descended people are nothing like that.

"And while Oberon was deciding all of that/inscribing it into the Pattern, he also called into contiguous discrete permanence a place to hold the Pattern and its creations, amond which number people. That place was Amber." She waves a hand toward the Castle, the city, the sea, everything.

"Now," Robin takes another slug of wine from a glass that is not emptying, "once there was all this contiguous permanence and patterns and the like, it and its people started influencing the 'stuff' around them. With such radical notions as proximity, duration, contagion-resonance, and the like. And that just spread and spread and spread. I really don't know how much of the spreading was purposeful or how much of it is just... an unexpected side-effect." She shrugs again.

"The 'stuff' that has been... organized by the spreading influence by Oberon, the Pattern and his descendants is what we call Shadow. It's got some of the characteristics of Oberon's ideas, but not all of them. And because of the... I don't know, unregulated, unexpected, chaotic? interactions of the spreading influence of Amber, new things are continuously being brought into contiguous permanence. Things like electricity, central heating and non-primitive plumbing." Robin grins and checks in with Brij to see if she can see where this is going.

"Sooooo, since electricity, central heating and non-primitive plumbing have been created out of secondary creation processes -- the spreading influence of Amber and its people -- they don't retain their contiguity or their permanence in a place saturated with initial creation processes -- Amber."

Robin looks over at Brij with sympathetic eyes. Yep, definitely a long mythical explanation.

"Is that why it's called Amber? Are people here stuck in it, like insects in ancient gems?"

"I never met the King to ask him," Robin shakes her head sadly.

"And nobody's stuck here - people leave when they want, return when they want. In fact, it's a really bad idea to try and hold any of Oberon's descendants where they don't want to be. Really bad." She kicks back another slug of wine.

"For me, the name always evoked a color more than a gemstone. Rich, warm, golden red, lush, hinting of both life and permanence" Robin's gaze drifts out over the evening air. "And way better sounding than Honey or Sap."

Teeth flash in a white grin to Brij.

Brij laughs. "Yeah, like how the ancient names for places, always basically translate to 'where we live' or 'the land of us' or something." She looks back. "But that's not what I mean, I mean how you said it doesn't change, not permanently. So if you're here and it doesn't change, is there any history? Are there any people who've made an impression? I don't know." She sighs.

"Where I come from, people don't actually live forever, so the only form of immortality we have is if we write something, or make great art, or conquer the neighboring continent or make an amazing invention. The idea that I can't change the world is ... different."

Robin cocks her head and blinks a moment in confusion. Then a little laugh escapes her. "Oh, I didn't mean permanence like that. I meant permanence like..." she looks around.

"Your glass, for example. It's a wineglass currently. But it probably started out as sand. Then was heated and changed into glass by a glassblower. It'll be a wineglass for a while. Then it will probably be shards of glass, which will become, I dunno, maybe part of a mosaic or a stained glass window or polishing dust or a home for little vermin in a garbage heap. Maybe all of those. But all those changing states are inherent in the wine glass without any application of your own will." Robin totally leaves out that this particular wineglass actually had no antecedent existence. That lecture is for another day.

"But the way my friend from the stuff-lands told it. In those places, your glass would only be a wineglass from the moment you concentrated your will on some random bit of stuff and forced it into the nature/shape of a wineglass. And it would end its wine-glass-ness the moment you stopped concentrating. Unless it got really smart and you made a bargain with it to remain a wine glass under its own will for a while." Robin leans back, an amazed smile on her face. "Can you imagine?

"And for Amber, all of this applies mostly only to the building blocks. People here change all the time, believe me, despite 'living forever.' We're born, we mature, we can die -- mostly by violence." Robin allows a sad side-glance.

And great works abound here. Novels, paintings, architecture, ballads -- all made by Oberon's descendants or the other inhabitants of Amber. As far as conquering neighboring continents goes, that's practically the Family hobby. We definitely have our share of conquerors, but statesmen as well. As far as amazing inventions go, we have our discoverers and thinkers too." Robin's eyes drift somewhere else for a moment, somewhere unpleasant. But she snaps herself back.

So yes, you can certainly make an impression here if you want too. Ossian, a cousin of ours, paints... wonderful things. I can take you to a gallery of his works if you'd like. He also designed a monument that is just breath-taking. I think it was Cambina or maybe Solange -- maybe both -- who wrote a couple of books that were well on their way to creating a major social upheaval here. Corwin," can't quite keep the hate out of her voice, "has written ballads that will make anyone weep. My father is a master breeder of hawks, horses and dogs. His lineages are prized anywhere. If you have a continent that needs conquering, just point Benedict at it and it's done.

"You can absolutely change this world if you want to, Brij. And if you're in a mood for other kinds of changes, there's also all of Shadow to create with."

Brij seems happier after hearing Robin's words. "I feel like I'm nothing but questions today. You'll have to stop me if I get boring, won't you?" Without waiting for an answer, she plows forward. "Tell me about shadow, I don't really understand it. What's the light source and what's in the way?"

"Well now..." Robin leans back and takes a slow thoughtful drink. "I can tell you what I think, but that's a question you should really get multiple opinions on. Without the icky math -- which I don't like or use either," the girl winks, "the only way to talk about Shadow is metaphor again. And my metaphors are going to be different than other folks'.

"'Shadow' is the word we all use to refer to the places that are created by the secondary influences I was talking about earlier. But I find the word a bit... misleading. Precisely because it evokes that light-source-and-blocking-thing imagery.

"The light source bit is kind of right. That would be the Pattern. Or Patterns, these days. But the light source is also us, the descendants of Oberon. So if you want to stick with light-based metaphors, imagine a big central light from which lots of smaller lights emerge, dance around, head off into the darkness or return to in close orbits. And shadows that aren't created by something in the way, but by the moiré patterns or polarization interference created when the glows created by the smaller moving lights meet one another." Robin wrinkles her nose. Ick. That didn't work for her.

"Myself, I tend to think of it more in terms of sounds or music." Her face relaxes and grows contemplative.

"The Pattern, to me, is more like vast symphony -- an arrangement of sound given meaning and context by its very arrangement-ness -- and each of us is an instrument. We reverberate to this symphony whether we want to or not. Oh, we can bring it out of ourselves more strongly or more quietly as we wish, but we're all constantly chiming and thrumming and trilling and thumping along. Now we don't perform or express the whole symphony all the time -- it's far bigger than each of ourselves, but each of us hold the symphony's main themes and our own special harmonies within ourselves. Aaannddd we all have the ability to solo improvise with the instruments that are our lives.

Shadows are the smaller songs that are created when our own private harmonies and improvisations blend and interweave. Sometimes we can control and influence the resulting pieces, but more often we don't. Most often, we aren't even really aware of what our very natures are creating around us. It just is. As we just are.

"Maybe some of our older Uncles -- or the Kings -- have it a little more under control, but from what I've seen, we're mostly just a bunch of really loud instruments going at it for all we're worth.

"Needless to say, I think this pisses some people off."

Brij nods. "I'm a dancer, or I used to be, so 'dancing lights' works well for me. Tell me why descendants of Oberon are also lights. Are we different from ordinary people?"

Robin blinks. Opens her mouth. Thinks about it. Closes her mouth. Thinks some more. Furrows her brow. And finally gives up.

"Brij? I guess I don't really understand your question.

"Are we different from ordinary people other than living forever, travelling between worlds and creating entire universes? Yep, some. We're stronger, faster and healthier than most folks. But not all. By no means, all. And I've never seen anything to indicate that we are smarter or kinder than most folks, so... yep, some.

"As to why we're lights...." Robin shrugs, "'because we are', is the best I can do with that one. I'm Robin, you're Brij, the table is the table, the view is the view. Maybe some of Bleys' math could help, but I don't really think about it beyond - we are."

She shrugs helplessly.

Brij nods. "In Texorami, we had, for the longest time, a Monarchy. It was said that the ancient and noble House of Lamar had been decreed by God himself to be the rightful rulers of the City and State of Texorami, and their will was absolute. Some stuff happened and that stopped being the case, and they were our rulers, but only if they didn't rule. It let them be decadent aristocrats without the fact that they were neither fit nor interested in ruling get in the way.

"After a long while, the new government that had been in place got corrupt and there were scandals, and the heir to the throne made it clear that he thought he needed to reassert his ancestral rights to govern, because the current government was so corrupt.

"So now we have philosophical debates between a party that believes the monarch is special and set aside from other men by God, who not everyone believes in anymore and a party that believes whatever will keep them in power. It's a conservative, church backed, radical reform party, so it's totally self-contradictory and confused." She smiles. 'Do you know Ash? He's one of them."

"I'm trying to figure out if I'm about to become a Monarchist by marriage."

"Wow," Robin says quietly.

She leans back in her chair, a thoughtful frown on her face as she mulls that over. Another big slug of wine is indulged in and her head cocks back and forth as she thinks. Eventually, her thoughts come somewhat together and she leans forward again.

"Okay. I am definitely not the best person to talk to about this. But since I'm here, I'll do what I can. If you can track him down, I think my cousin Jerod would be of great help. He...." she shrugs again, "you should have heard him at the Council debates. He's aaallll about divine mandate/extraordinary ability/inherited responsibility in relation to the good of the populace. Yeah," she nods to herself, "Jerod would be good for this question.

"Or Vere, my fiancé." For a moment, Robin lights up like a bonfire. Her eyes glow, the smile that spreads across her face holds all the simple beauty of a baby's laugh, and a wriggle of pure joy goes through her. Then her face grows serious. "He... he's learning right now about power that stretches between worls versus the desires of a single people. I'll be very curious to see what his conclusions are.

"Unfortunately, you got me." Robin smiles at Brij. "Sooo....

"I think there are three very, very important points to remember when thinking about this. Number one - we are astly powerful beings when compared to 'ordinary people.' This is not rationalization or justification or belief or wish fulfillment. It's fact.

"Number two - Amber and its nearby demesnes, Xanadu, Paris -- all of them are absolute monarchies. There is no 'voting,' there is no 'power of the common man,' there are no 'inalienable rights.' There are oaths, loyalty, etiquette and understandings. This doesn't have anything to do with fitness to rule or decrees by higher beings... (mostly)," she mutters to herself as a side thought. "It has to do with how to keep a bunch of very powerful, very ambitious, very violent beings from tearing apart the universe.

"Number three - there is -- really ant truthfully -- an infinite amount of 'ordinary people' while we number... currently less than 50, I'd say. And all - all of those 'ordinary people' have hopes, dreams, wishes, things they think are right, things they think are wrong and - most importantly - things they want from you.

"How you bring those points together in yourself is really up to you. But losing sight of any of them will only cause... amazing amounts of grief for yourself and anyone around you.

"I...." Robin runs out of steam. "I've made some decisions for myself. And am still learning other hard lessons. But I'm not a person from a large society driven by popular opinion, so... I'm not sure my answers would make sense to you."

Brij nods and drinks more of the wine. "See, there's always been a number of people back home that really want their lives to mean something, so they have these ideas of purpose and upward progress. Progress used to be the radical thing, it upset the idea of the static "Great Chain of Being", but nowadays it's the institutional thing that people rebel against.

She laughs. "My daughter thinks I'm an idiot. I can't imagine her thinking I'd be sitting on the balcony of this castle talking philosophy with my Aunt." Her cheeks are a little pink. "Is it odd here that you're engaged to your cousin, or that I-- my daughter is engaged to hers? It would be odd in Texorami."

"It is..." Robin searches for the right word, "unprecedented. Oberon specifically forbade his children from... dallying with one another. But he made no such pronouncement regarding their children. Possibly because there were not enough of us to worry about at the time.

"Since then, though... My brother, Daeon, and my cousin, Paige, while never married, have two beautiful children. Vere and I are open in our love for one another." Another brilliant smile lights her face as she remembers Vere stepping out of the distance to stand behind her, supporting her, at Daeon's memorial.

"Martin and Folly are like two burrs, stuck together. And I would be very, very, very surprised if those three were the only relations between all of my cousins. Other folks are probably just more subtle about it.

"I think right now, everyone's in a wait-and-see mood. The consequences of opposing such unions are obvious, dreadful and immediate. We don't know yet what the consequences of condoning such unions is. Sooooo...." another patented Robin shrug.

Brij laughs. "I always do better where there are fewer rules," she says.

"I suspect that you bend the rules to your ends wherever you are," says a baritone voice from the door.

"Bleys!," says Brij, happily. She straightens up, shaking off the signs of drinking. Robin suspects that she's still not used to not having to hide her Amberite abilities out of habit.

Robin rises to her feet, checks for convenient exits over or around the balcony, makes sure all her weapons are within easy reach and keeps her eyes on the Prince. Eyes that widen then narrow as Brij moves toward Bleys.

She slides under Bleys' arm and looks up at him expectantly. He leans down and gives her a kiss.

Greeeeeaaaatttt. Robin face folds into a sullen scowl. First the twins, now this.

And oh, the wonderful echoes of her interrupted breakfast with Vere and Solange. She's cursed, truly cursed.

"Thank you for calling me in, Robin. I'm pleased you think of me as 'helpful in a crisis'."

Brij says, "Robin was telling me about Shadows and Kings and Royalism and how to change the world."

Bleys nods at her. "I'm sure it was fascinating. You'll have to tell me about it." He turns to Robin. "We may stay the night here to let Brij become acclimated to our ways before taking her to Xanadu or we may just throw ourselves over the figurative waterfall. Have you had the chance to speak to your father regarding ... events?" He raises both red eyebrows slightly.

Robin finds her teeth grinding and a low growl reverberates through the girl's ribcage. A wave of red anger flashes through her. The feeling that she's been and is still being played, the sense of being patronized, and what hits her as nagging about a conversation with her father that she desperately wants to avoid - all of it combine to a building firestorm within her. A firestorm Robin knows is unwise and unwarranted but is still coming.

And then like a cool breeze under her wings, there is an unreal presence at her back. A presence no less strong for its fictiousness. Drawing its stregth from the earth and the sky, smiling to her, bracing her and holding her against her Uncle. Just like he did at that breakfast. Her Vere.

"No, sir. I haven't. I'll just go do that, shall I?" Robin manages to get out in almost a normal voice.

"If you'd like." Bleys looks out at the city. "Caine has called for a formal dinner. I suspect he wishes to tell us all his exciting tales of whatever it was that happened to him. Jules is, of course, invited but I'd advise him to wait for the condensed version of the tale." He turns to Brij. "Caine is amazing. He can be long-winded and taciturn in the same speech."

"H-how long until dinner?" Robin asks with the sinking feeling that no only is the dreaded conversation coming but maybe a dress as well!

Bleys smiles. "I came up to change. Should we send servants to prepare a room and clothes for you?"

Brij puts down her wine glass. "No, they've provided me with plenty, and I'm sure some of it would fit Robin. You go change and then leave, and we'll be along shortly."

"As you wish, " he says, and nods to Robin. "I shall be in the outer rooms."

"Wait!" Robin near-shrieks at Bleys. "These are YOUR rooms?!?"

Suddenly, little oddities rearrange themselves in Robin's mind -- the clutter, Brij's attire. Deep Dark GREEN, she was rooting in his cupboards!!!

Robin slaps a hand over her eyes and devoutly wishes she could throw herself off the balcony.

Bleys holds the door frame and turns back over his shoulder. "Technically, they're all Random's rooms. I haven't maintained a residence at the Castle in well over three hundred years. There is neither enough room nor enough privacy to suit me."

Brij reaches out to Robin, as if to comfort her. It's clear from the look on her face that she doesn't know why she'd be comforting her aunt, but that's not the point.

Robin holds a hand out to Brij. She'll take that comfort, but there's something that needs to be done first.

Maybe Bleys is just playing her, but Robin is struck by the fact that it might be just as awful for him to find her here as it was for her to find herself here. And boy, can she sympathize about the lack of privacy and room. In addition, courtesy dictates anyway. Soooo....

While still very unsettled, Robin is sincere when she releases her sword hilt and places her hand over her heart. She manages the best bow she can and says, "I apologize for both my unexpected arrival and my earlier fit of bad temper, Prince Bleys. And thank you for your hospitality."

Bleys nods. "My brothers don't apologize easily. They learned long ago that it cost us too much." He waves down at the city. "New King, new rules. I accept your apology, and consider the prior matter forgotten." He bows from the neck and departs, leaving the balcony to Brij and Robin.

Brij's hands are on her slim hips and she looks up at Robin from the doorway. "OK, time to be blunt, Great-Aunt Robin. What what that all about?"

"Bleys and I...." Robin's hand flutters as she drops back into her seat with a sigh. And then realizes that she can't really speak for Prince Bleys, so she starts again.

"Less than a double handful of years ago -- my time -- Prince Bleys and I were on opposite sides of a bloody civil war. And had we met on the battlefield, we would've done our level best to kill one another. That war d@mn near cost Prince Bleys his life and it did cost me my home and my... I guess, my innocence, my childhood, something like that." She waves herself on. "And it left us all exposed for something far, far worse.

"Now the bastard responsible for the far, far worse is safely dead. But... I'm not ready to forget that Bleys and Corwin marched an army through my home, slaughtered my friends - who were doing their duty defending the Princes' former home - and shattered our defenses for when the real enemy came calling. Soooo, childishly or not, I hate the two of them with...." Words fail her and she growls deep in her throat again.

"Howwwweeeevveeerrr," she sighs, "the 'new king, new rules' specifically says Robin doesn't get to kill any uncles and that we all find other ways than knives and armies to get along. So we get to the etiquette and understandings I mentioned earlier.

"Here's how that goes. Bleys outranks me. Significantly. Not only is he a son Oberon, where I'm just a grandchild, he's also older than me by centuries with aaaallll the commiserate expertise, knowledge and skill that implies. Furthermore, he is far closer to the rest of the family than I, has more experience and knowledge of the Castle than I and has been here longer. Sooooo, not only does he outrank me in general, he outranks me in the specific too. Therefore, Robin flies carefully around Bleys when in Amber Castle.

"Now all of that gets complicated by the situation. See, had it been 'neutral territory' where we were having our conversation, the conversation would've been understood to be private and it would've been... rude for Prince Bleys to just drift on into it without invitation. And I would have been within my rights to be quietly pissy about the interruption.

"Bbbbuuuuutttt since the conversation actually took place within an area designated for Prince Bleys' use... well, then he's entitled to know all that occurs in the area as well as who's entering and leaving it. Soooo, what I thought of as a high-handed power play from Prince Bleys actually turned out to be mean-spirited and unthinking snit by myself. Hence the apology.

"Dung." Robin sighs ruefully.

Brij listens attentively, nodding at all the right places. "That's ... some history and very different than my first guess. Let's go get dressed."

Robin nods, glad for the change of subject, and follows Brij inside.

She leads Robin into the bedroom and opens three wardrobes which are full of clothes. "You'll show a little more leg than I will with some of these, and thank the Gods, because they're all old ladies' clothes. We may have to take a sharp knife to them to make them interesting."

Robin chuckles in agreement. Maybe it'll be Brij instead of Aisling and Brita that she talks to about changing fashion trends in Amber to favor women in trousers.

Brij seems to favor women in short skirts. She's quick and handy with scissors and safety pins.

Robin raises an eyebrow at the take-no-prisoners tailoring but is more non-plussed than scandalized.

Brij starts throwing clothes onto the bed, and holding them up for Robin to approve of or not.

Robin's eye tends to pockets more than colors or styles. How she's ever going to get her regular arsenal under some of those outfits is quite beyond her. Then a blousy green dress catches her eye. Something that can be caught up around the waist for an upscale peasant look but can still handle most of her knives. And the sword... kind of.

"I think you're thinking too much, Robin. About this, anyway. As long as you let him control your responses to him, you let him win." She picks up a discarded dress and throws it over the back of a chair. "There! Now I'm officially meddling."

Robin chuckles again. "Vere said pretty much the same thing. Though that time I was thinking too little. Ah, well," she sighs, "I'll find my draft one of these days, I guess."

Brij shrugs, noncommittally. She doesn't pursue the matter any further. For now.

The Ranger takes advantage of a pitcher and basin to wash of some of the ash and mud, and remove some of the larger twigs and clods from her hair in preparation for dressing.

Robin hears a "peep" sound from the balcony behind her.

"Oo! Peep?" Her green eyes emerge from behind a towel.

"Brij? I think some friends of mine have arrived. They're still kind of wild so they can't come into the room, but would you like to meet them?" Robin is already moving toward the balcony as she speaks. With light steps and glowing eyes, Robin floats back onto the balcony.

"Peep? Chirrup?" she calls. "Ooot?"

Brij follows, half-dressed. The fire-lizards descend in a fair and circle around Robin, chittering. They don't seem to be unhappy, but they've missed Robin. Peep wraps herself around Robin's neck and peers at Brij through the Ranger's hair.

Robin's spirit soars as she cheeps and chitters right back to them. She's missed them too - stupid, stupid walls. The girl makes herself a joyous whirwind of strokes, croons and pettings.

"Those are great!," says Brij, clapping her hands together. "Hello, pretty thing..." She holds her hand out at arms length to let Peep sniff her, as if Peep were a cat.

"This is Peep." There can be no mistaking the love in Robin's voice. "The gallant gentleman is Chirrup. And the smart one taking his time is Ooot. We've only been joined for a little while so we're still finding our ways but they are the most wonderful, wonderful friends!"

Peep peeps in response to her name. She leans forward and first sniffs and then licks Brij's outstretched finger. Her tongue is slender and long.

Brij laughs. "I can see why you're not ready to bring them to dinner. Are you staying here long? Bleys expects they'll resolve the missing Queen problem soon and things will go back to some sort of normal." She turns as Ooot flies across the balcony. "Pelle would've loved these."

Robin continues to stroke her friends but she's obviously getting ready to send them off and go back inside.

"I usually don't stay long in the Castle. Just show up for mandatory events and then back to Arden. Or wherever the wind blows me this time.

"Okay, sweetlings, big sis has to go inside and have uncomfortable conversations over over-cooked food." She scrunches up her nose and sticks out her tongue. "You guys go frolic and I'll bring you yummies afterward." Robin's green eyes twinkle as she bades her little lovelies good-bye.

They circle upwards, chittering away to each other, and thinking of food. They may be planning on catching lizards which are sunning on the roof.

Robin heartily approves of that plan - hunting is always good for growing minds and bodies.

Turning toward Brij as she moves to re-enter the suites, Robin asks, "Pelle?"

Brij nods. "My husband. He was my gymnastics coach when I was a girl and a hell of a competitor when he was in the sport himself." She laughs. "I am a respectable middle-aged widow with a grown daughter, and am about to be a grandmother, or so I hear."

A grin crosses Robin's face. "Here, it really is true -- you're only as old as you feel, Brij. And congratulations."

Robin moves back into the rooms and quickly slides into the afore-chosen green dress, taking care to transfer her arsenal. She takes time for quick peeks at Brij dressing to make sure before she's haunted by an echo.

Brij is brushing her hair. She hasn't dressed yet.

"Brij? Are you armed?"

Brij looks down at her newly-low cut blouse. "Just what you see, Auntie Robin. Why, do we have to kill our own dinner?"

"Weeeelllll, we don't usually have to kill our own dinner in the Castle," Robin grins as she hands Brij a smallish hunting knife complete with sheath and thigh straps. "But the last two times I was here, we were attacked and deaths resulted. By the way, I had nothing to do with either."

Robin starts checking on the accessibility of her usual Mad Max at Thunderdome level of weaponry.

Brij takes the knife, looks at it and shrugs. She removes the straps from the sheath, and it disappears into her cleavage. "Ready," she says.

"Guess so." Robin sighs and shrugs.