Gathering... something to herself, Robin strides across the room to Vere, one hand running through her whitened hair. Approaching him from the side so as to not occlude his view, the girl wets her lips nervously.
"Vere?"
He smiles at her as she approaches. "Robin," he says, with real warmth in his voice. "I am pleased you are here. Is there anything you need me to do immediately? I need to report to the Queen within the next few minutes, to explain what happened while she was absent."
Crrooooonn. That smile, that warmth, 'pleased' -- Robin's eyes glimmer as she looks up at him. But despite the glow starting within herself, the Ranger stays on track.
Spectacularly, unbelievably, Vere had already given up the chance to see the Family's first recoup from an unexpected attack in their midst. Just to check on her. And Robin can't bring herself to ask him for more at this time. Especially not if he needed to report to Her Majesty. Therefore, Robin keeps it as brief as she possibly can.
"Things are heating up quickly, Vere. I doubt I'll be able to fly with you and Jovian tomorrow." Sorrow clouds her eyes for a moment.
The girl holds out her closed hand to Vere, offering him something hidden from the view of the rest of the room. "I...." oh, it's hard, but Julian's hidden daughter fights back her instincts, "I sleep in the north-east garden tonight. The one with all the yew? Please come if you can."
Vere accepts the offering with no change of expression. "I will, unless Chaos itself intervenes," he says. It does not sound like hyperbole. "We must talk."
At the touch of their fingers, a shiver runs through Robin and her breath catches momentarily. Into Vere's hands is pressed the softness of feathers, the smoothness of beads, and the warmth of that which has been worn next to Robin's skin.
"Thank you." Inside the girl's mind sounds the exultant scream of a hawk on the wind and she basks momentarily in his gaze, drawing it into herself.
As the shiver runs through Robin, and their gazes meet, Vere grows even more still, and for that brief moment everything but Robin ceases to exist for him.
And then she lets herself listen to the second sentence.
"I understand, Vere. I'll be ready." A lop-sided smile raises one side of her lips. Yep, time to start the horrific consequences work. Unless, of course, Chaos itself intervenes. In which case, Robin will have to tear apart all of creation getting back to Vere and her chosen horrific consequences.
Vere comes back to the here and now, and his eyes flick from side to side, judging what changes have taken place in the room in that brief instant of distraction. "My lady," he says, bowing to Robin. "My lady," he says again, but with a decidedly different emphasis.
Those green eyes close briefly at Vere's emphasis, and the girl's chin lifts momentarily, joy coruscating in shimmering rivulets down every nerve. Her lips part briefly, but Robin has no breath.
He backs away from her one step, his hand unobtrusively slipping its contents into his pouch.
As the air changes and Vere's heat moves away, Robin opens her eyes and nods wordlessly. Duty first -- always -- she wouldn't have it any other way. Though Robin suspects the... withdrawals will always be bittersweet. The girl doesn't bow or offer any words, letting her self say all that is needed.
Then he turns and walks decisively towards the Queen.
Once He is gone, a long sigh forces its way out of the way out of the Ranger and she leans back against the wall where he stood. After a moment, an ironic chuckle ripples through Robin. And here she thought that breathless and weak in the knees stuff was just a metaphor.
From the bandstand, there is a short drum sequence. It is repeated twice.
Vere glances curiously at the bandstand as he heads for the Queen, more than half expecting to see one of the Rangers using the drum to send one of their mysterious messages.
[Per GM determination that Marius, to find quiet and order, would be bringing Vialle et al. through in a side room and thus out of sight]
Jovian looks up from the kit and, half to the room and half to himself, asks, "Now where did Vere disappear to? The fool's walking around still bleeding." With a tight expression of suppressed annoyance, he puts the items back in their bag.
Julian, who has had an eye on Vista and the other Ranger, says, "I believe he went that way," indicating the direction back towards the bar. "If you will excuse me, " he adds, and heads towards Vista, who is on the other side of the room near the door to the former champagne fountain.
Robin snaps out of her dreaming reverie at the sound of the drum. She casts her green eyes toward the bandstand, brow furrowed. Evidently, she recognizes the musician as Robin responds almost immediately. The Ranger searches around for a nearby chair and hops up onto it to stand above the thinned crowd. She flashes an acknowledging wave bandstand-ward and starts surveying the room from a different perspective than the one the musician would have.
As she sorts through the weeds of partially removed costumes, the girl bites her lip unconsciously, her brow still furrowed. Politics - and politicians - definitely being a weakness, the girl struggles with her memories from the grey time and counsel meetings either ignored or endured as necessary and quickly discarded from her notice. Dammit! She can't remember.
With an exasperated sigh, Robin resorts her jumbled mind using different parameters. There was a connection, she knows it. Don't think about it, girl, feel for it. Who? Ah, yes, the oil... diplomatic Conner, that was it.
He was here. And she was here. They were dancing together, quite a bit, if Robin's snap-shot memories of the Masquerade are accurate. But what was she?
Robin's fluttering mind regurgitates another image, her brother wings so prettily spread in a deep bow to a.... Griffin! That was it. A griffin. Robin's eyes sharpen once she's identified her prey and from the perch of the chair, her gaze sweeps the ballroom like a raptor's.
Robin doesn't see the griffin, but since the room is mostly cleared, that doesn't surprise her.
She does see her father moving to speak to Vista.
Robin nods to herself as the seniors gather. Making sure she has Couth's attention, Robin waves that she's going on to search the garden that most of the guests evacuated into.
Assuming she gets an acknowledging signal, the Ranger hops down off the chair and trots out into the garden.
Jovian grimaces slightly at his father's retreating back, then turns away, noticing Robin crossing the room. He steps after, coming into step with her momentarily.
Robin soars across the Great Hall, the darkness and the air beyond the garden doors beckoning to her despite the crowds past them. As she flies, she becomes aware of another matching her path and turns her head to see Jovian matching her steps.
"You OK?" he asks his sister, and there are layers of meaning there.
"Oh, Jovian!" There's a hint of a wail there as Robin throws herself toward the dragonrider, intending to fold herself around him in a tight embrace.
Assuming Jovian accepts, the girl buries her face in his chest for a moment. "I'm so sorry," she murmurs in a muffled voice, "I didn't mean to take him from you. Honest, I didn't."
Jovian folds the girl in the wings of his cloak...admitting to himself that with all the day's stresses, including who knows how bad a hit below the waterline of his relationship with Kourin, he could use to be held a bit.
"Don't take it that way, little bird," he croons, stroking Robin's spine. "It's nothing that suffered for waiting, and I would have had the headache no matter who he talked with first."
A sympathetic croon emerges from the inside of Jovian's cloak and Robin nuzzles her brother comfortingly.
When she's ready to look up again, he gently asks the question on everyone's mind: "What happened in there?"
Green eyes peek up the darkness of Robin's face-paint and the shadows of Jovian's cloak. A sigh ripples through the girl.
"Can we talk and walk at the same time, Jove? I've got to find that Griffin you were dancing with earlier..." she wants to talk with Jovian - badly. Enough so that the girl is showing no signs of letting go of her brother. But she's also still on duty. Torn again.
He nods. "Let's do that. I think I can recognize Harper unmasked." The smile that comes with the observation is both vaguely fond and mildly predatory. Id est, all bronze rider.
Robin cocks her head at the expression on his face, and a fond glimmer warms her eyes. "Thanks, Jove."
With a chuckle, she tickles her brother's ribs briefly before releasing one arm to walk beside the bronze rider. The other arm remains firmly looped around Jovian's waist and the girl stays pretty much tucked under his cloak.
His pace is not notably swift as he guides Robin to the outer bailey where triage and crowd security are being managed. It is calculated to give her plenty of time to catch her breath and compose her answer.
As they walk, Robin murmurs quietly to the man in whose lee she walks. Her voice is the faintest whisp that carries no further than the two of them.
"I... it got really loud there at the end." The girl ducks one ear against her shoulder, wincing at the memory. "But even before that, I was having trouble. Brita..." she sighs the name out, a wealth of complicated tangled emotions twisting in her voice.
"I try, Jovian. Really, really hard. I won't hate her. Because it's not her fault. And I won't do to her, what he did to Dad." The 'he' is snarled out with green hissing venom.
"But it doesn't help that she didn't ask to inherit my life. That it was thrust upon her when I didn't come back. I... it's still my life, Jovian. And it's hard to watch it being lived by someone else." Robin's eyes squeeze shut in pain and she leans her head on her brother's shoulder.
"So, there I am. Hunting at her side. Trying. When it appears. Coiled in the doorway..." Robin's voice changes. A smoky hunger rises from the girl; breathless, seductive, full of sweet torment. Her eyes stare off into space, darkly glimmering. "Soooo beautiful." She murmurs. "Death."
"It strikes." Appreciation runs through her voice in a thrilled shiver. "And we fall. Brita and I."
Then the girl shakes it off. "When we get up... my bow is broken -- the bow I had to sneak in. But not Brita's hammer, the one the King told her she could wear. So I'm left with whatever I can grab." Bitterness there. "Brita.... dammit, Jove! Brita gets to rush him. And I'm left to shepherd the fucking civilians out of there."
She sighs. "Which I do. Because while the thirty of them aren't worth her life, the two thousand out in the Hall who will stampede are. Dung!" She finishes dispiritedly.
Jovian absorbs all this, and mostly files it for later. There is a lot more here than he bargained for, and some of it troubles him not a little...but he keeps his reactions in the 'clinical interest' category. "You did well, Robin," he allows when she pauses here. "You did what Dad would want done. A Ranger's duty is to protect."
"I know. But...." she shakes her head, "Oh, Jove. Thank you. For that, at least." A small smile falters its way to her lips.
Robin's eyes go elsewhere again. "Brita charges it. And... and," a breathless thrill runs through the girl and she shivers delightedly against Jovian. "It completely overwhelms her. She is helpless, broken in its grasp for all that she's still fighting. And it's coiling around her, playing with her, murmuring to her."
"Then it got really confusing." Robin looks up to her brother, her brows furrowed.
It is by no small effort of will that Jovian keeps from his face any evidence of how profoundly disturbing he finds Robin's reactions right now. With a little effort, he keeps his tone even and asks: "Confusing how? Where did...Death...take Brita?"
And then he recalls, as well. Brita, whom he hasn't met yet. Brita, Fiona's daughter, who's been working with the Rangers while Robin was away. That Brita.
One thing gets more understandable. And then another does. And Jovian's appointment calendar gets a little more full...not that Fiona's likely to be available again until her baby is safe home again....
Robin slows to a stop, her head resting against Jovian's shoulder for a moment. Amidst his understanding, the traces of effort. The words that stay on the surface.
The girl looks up into her brother's face. And blinks slowly once. "It's name was Cleph, Jovian. It was wearing Uncle Caine's form. It ripped open a tear in the fabric of reality. All I could see of the other side was darkness and cold. And though Father stabbed it in the shoulder, it dragged Brita with itself through the rift. Then it sealed the rift behind itself." Robin's voice is very straightforward, very factual.
She removes her arm from around Jovian's ribs and steps out from under his cloak. Those green eyes fall and then come up again. Robin tremulously pats at Jovian's chest, almost as though trying to wipe away something that isn't there. "I... I'm sorry. I misunderstood your question." Her gaze drifts away and a strong shudder shakes her form.
Jovian puts his hand over Robin's stilling it on his chest but also holding it there. "I don't know whether you did or not. What did you think I meant, at first?" He's worried, but now it's worry in equal parts for and about her. Now as much as ever it's big brother wanting to know how he can help.
Robin looks up into Jovian's eyes, her own liquid with suppressed tears. "I thought you wanted to know what had happened, why we had to leave you." She whispers. "Not what had happened, tactical information on a battle fought and lost."
Her eyes squeeze shut momentarily and she pales."Oh, Jovian... it's dark. Smoking and swirling. And choking me..."
"But..." the girl swallows and forces color back into her face. She opens eyes that smile with fondness and raises her other hand to lay it along her brother's cheek. "my bright shining hero of a brother, it's not your responsibility. If you don't want it to be."
"Hmph. Says you," Jovian responds, and pulls her back in again. "You're safe. You'll be with her soon."
Robin snuggles herself deep into the folds of Jovian's cloak, practically disappearing from view except for two glowing feet emerging below the crimson and gold. Against him, she is warm but shaking. When she looks back up at her brother, tears glisten down the blackness of her cheeks but a happy smile illuminates her.
"Th-thank you, Jove. Thank you sooo much."
He pauses, looks down into her face again. "So how does all this play in to why you had to leave me? Some confidence you needed to share with Dad, wasn't it? If it's need-to-know, and I don't, no worries."
"Oh. It's not that." She bobs her head and chuckles. "Well, it kind of is, but that was just the excuse that Dad used to pull me out of there." Robin sniffles inelegantly and rubs her nose with one hand.
"See... Jove, I was losing it. Dad's knows the danger signs. So he called me to his arm and got me out before I went all... theatrical. In front of Aunt Fiona, Conner, Reid and everyone within shouting distance." She shakes her head, her eyes taking on a haunted look.
"I... I was never supposed to be at the Castle, Jove. I shouldn't be here. It's too loud. There's too... much. I can't... oh, Jove, tonight was really really hard. And then that! I was just.... oh, Verde!" She shudders once again.
"Jove, please. Let's find the Harper Griffin and get me off duty. Please!"
"Oh, jays...I didn't realize how bad it's gotten. And I made you stay in a cave...." He winces, and it's not all headache. "Yes, let's find Harper. What'd you need her for anyway?" he asks casually, continuing to stroll outward with his arm around Robin's shoulders.
"It's... the cave was mostly okay, Jove." Robin reassures him. "It was full of harmony. That helps." Robin leans her head on her brother's arm as she walks.
"I don't need Harper. Couth does." Robin points with her shoulder toward the man at the bandstand. "Don't know why. But if he's sounding in public like that, it's got to be important."
Vere approaches Marius and the returnees, saying, "Your Majesty," politely as he draws close to the Queen. The tone of his voice clearly indicates that this is not just a greeting, but that he is requesting her attention.
Vere acquires Lilly's full attention whether he wishes for it or not. There was an intensity to the gilr that suggested a deep hunger for knowledge of their current situation. The more she knew, the more prepared she could be. Preparation could be vital to the dsafety of the queen right now.
Ossian greets Vere with a nod, and looks around for one of the thrown cards Lilly mentioned. When he finds one he wil pick it up and start to examine it.
[Ossian is in a side room. No cards here; he'll have to pick one up from the floor of the main room when he goes out there].]
"Vere," Vialle says pleasantly, but Ossian and Vere can both hear the underlying stress in her voice. "How stands the realm, and my lord the King?"
"The King is uninjured, Your Majesty, and has requested me to report to you upon what has occurred in your absence. He regrets not being here to speak with you himself, but is seeing to the treatment of Prince Martin, who was injured while protecting him from Duchess Borel's attack. Would Your Majesty have me report now, or would it be preferable to retire to more private chambers?" If Vere's shoulder wound is causing him any pain there is no trace of it in his voice.
Torn between searching for the thrown cards and hearing what Vere will say to the queen Ossian stays close to the queen. [Consider this a "Ossian picks his nose" thread]
[We generally prefer the term "null post". I can't imagine Ossian as a nose-picker. ;)]
"It appears...Vere..." Marius remembers him from the coronation and the ride to the dragons, but otherwise has little knowledge of him, and it shows in the pause before speaking the gentleman's name, "has more information than I do, your highness," he says, giving his voice the kind of bow that would have been wasted on her vision. "I was amply shielded by the wings of fortune." He smiles a little at his small joke. "However, if I may accompany you to learn this much more, I would do so, unless another task you would send me on is more pressing."
"Please remain, Sir Marius. Lord Vere, if I am to hold the kingdom steady for my lord's return, I must know before I leave this chamber what I face. What has happened in my absence?" Vialle asks.
She pauses. "And how badly injured is Martin? Are there other casualties?"
"I do not know how badly injured His Highness is, Your Majesty," Vere replies. "He was well enough to still be walking under his own power, and he did not allow anyone to know he was injured for a significant period of time. My opinion is that his injuries are not critical, although I do not have definite information upon that." He pauses, then continues, "Lady Brita is kidnapped, Lord Lucas is injured and being attended to by Prince Gerard, and Princess Cambina was injured, but is well enough that she too is up and walking. Demond Harga'rel was murdered during the attack or immediately thereafter. I do not have all the details upon that, but I believe the assumption is that the crime was committed by someone not affiliated with Duchess Borel." He pauses again. "I believe that some member of Lady Solange's foster family was seriously injured, perhaps killed, but I do not have details upon that matter, either."
Marius keeps a mental score card. He also notes the people with the question marks next to their names.
"Unfortunately, I cannot give full information on the number of injuries among the general populace, but my impression is that the number is not exceedingly high. My attention was otherwise engaged immediately after the attack, but I believe that Lord Marius remained in the main chamber and I do not doubt that he can fill in the facts that I do not have." Vere bows slightly to Marius before continuing.
Marius receives the bow with a nod of his own, but is waiting for Vere's finish.
Lilly not only makes a mental note of those Vere mentions, but of those he did not. The relief she feels comes as something of a surprise. She had not realized how close she had allowed herself to become to some of her cousins.
"To give further details, Your Majesty. I believe you heard the confrontation between Duchess Borel and His Majesty. Immediately after staging her attack she and her companion departed, apparently tearing a rift through reality to do so." Vere glances around at the others, then continues, "The Duchess' companion greatly resembled Lord Brennan, enough so that my assumption is that he is a child or grandchild of Prince Brand, or perhaps of his mother. Other possibilities for the resemblance exist, of course, but that is the assumption that I suspect the majority of those who noted the resemblance will make."
"In addition, another companion was also present. He is the one who kidnapped Lady Brita, apparently after battle with both her and the Lady Robin. Princess Fiona and Prince Bleys, along with Lord Brennan and Lord Conner, are currently closeted to consider an appropriate action. The dragons became extremely agitated during Duchess Borel's attack, I do not know the cause of that. Order was restored quickly, most people have already begun to depart, and the wounded have been seen to or are still being treated."
Another brief pause, and then, "Immediately after the attack there was a confrontation between Prince Martin and Dame Aisling. I can quote it verbatim if you wish, but the gist is that His Highness strongly implied that she was still working for Chaos, and was no doubt in league with Duchess Borel. While she might choose to characterize her response to him differently, I have no doubt that His Highness interpreted her response as giving him the Lie Direct." A faint hint of amusement enters Vere's voice. "The cousins descended upon them immediately, determined to prevent violence. His wound was discovered by the King at that moment, and thence to receive medical attention. But that matter will raise its head again."
Lilly's shakes her head slightly in disbelief. This was something that could cause issues for the Order. It would most definitely need to be looked into and discussed at the next Knightly meeting.
[Vere]
"And I believe that covers the majority of what has occurred, Your
Majesty. Are there any points requiring clarification or elaboration?"
Lilly had been listening intently without much expression until near the very end. The news of the exchange between Martin and Aisling brought an uncharacteristic look of surprise to her features. She instantly became determined to find out everything she could about the incident and the events that provoked it. Of course, she suspected it could easily be put off until morning. Right now she had to put the Queen's interests first. So rather then comment, she settled deeper into her silence and awaited Vialle's response.
During Vere's summary Ossian keeps his eyes close. He might be trying to visualize what happened.
Vialle looks a little overwhelmed. She takes a moment to process everything Vere has told her, and finally says, "Only one that cannot be dealt with in due time. Vere, are you all right?"
Marius waits for his answer here as well. (I believe he can see the blood, but for all that they really haven't gotten any time to spend with each other, I think Marius has pegged Vere pretty well.) He does not suggest to Vialle that her majesty give Vere the permission to collapse, but the thought does dance around his mind for a moment or two.
Lilly awaits Vere's response before making any comments of her own. Most of what she had to say could await a private audience with the Queen and that would come soon enough. Or so she hoped.
There is amusement in Vere's voice once again as he replies, "Your Majesty remains as perceptive as ever. A small injury only, I assure you. I shall have it attended to immediately I have discharged my duty to report to you."
"Which you have now done. Consider it my order to go to your father at once and have him tend to you. If anyone asks, you are on the Queen's business," Vialle says.
Vere bows, murmurs, "I obey, Your Majesty," and backs away two steps. He gives a brief nod to each of his three cousins, then turns and departs, to go and find Gerard.
To the others she says, "With Random gone, the people will need to see me and know that I am well. Take me out to where the people are, and I will address the crowd."
If he's not stepping on any toes, even figuratively, Marius will gladly escort the Queen to where he had heard people being herded.
He will not goose the Queen. (Why do I feel like he should be at a blackboard, writing that fifty times?)
"Very well your majesty." Lilly says. "Ossian, perhaps you should lead the Queen. Marius, you and I can serve as guard. I do not expect there to be any issues but I do believe in exercising caution." With that said, she is ready to follow Vialle.
Works for me. Marius will escort in the other fashion, then.
Ossian looks at Vialle, himself, Marius and Lilly, in that order.
"Yes. You are right, cousin." he concludes, placing Vialle's hand on his arm. "Shall we, your Majesty?"
Ossian will then start to lead her out to the people.
Marius takes her other arm and together they guide her through the ballroom, with Lilly as their guardian. Gilt Winter falls into stride beside the group, and he waves Jasper the herald over. The procession takes a different route from the crowd, one that leads to a balcony overlooking the outer bailey.
Jasper blasts his trumpet once and calls out to the departing crowd, "People of Amber, hear the words of Queen Vialle". The noise from the courtyard below diminishes, and Vialle steps forth, Lilly beside her to defend her.
"People of Amber, this night our enemies have struck at us, and they have failed. Failing, they have revealed what we have long suspected. Amber must be on her guard. Many have sacrificed for the peace we so richly deserve and we will not let our enemies steal it from us. The King my husband is taking the battle to our foes and several of our brothers and sisters are even now planning our retaliation. People of Amber, your King and Queen can make you no promises except the ones we made this very day to defend the realm and her peoples. Go forth tonight not timidly, but with the great resolve of a great people. You are the strength and resilience of the Kingdom. Be watchful, and be ready to serve Amber when you are called upon to do so."
Lilly lets her posture convey the strength the Queen is now calling for. There is no fear in her, only determination. As the Queen's guard she felt it her duty to echo the Queen's words with her actions. She would serve Amber as best she could, in any way possible.
Afterwards, there is some crowd buzz, and Vialle remains long enough to be seen. Soon enough, however, she turns and goes inside.
Once Vialle was finished here she would escort her back to her rooms and see to it the Queen rested as peacefully as possible. Tomorrow was sure to be trying.
Once they are in the halls, Vialle dismisses all of her escort except for Lilly.
Folly hastens to her quarters and peels off the remains of her costume, leaving a flurry of fabric and feathers in her wake -- hat on the couch, shoes under the desk, dress fluttering unceremoniously to the floor -- as she plows through the sitting-room and into her bedroom. She yanks open a dresser drawer with one hand while the other picks at the knot binding the cord with the little velvet trump-pouch to her waist....
Her trumps.
Folly curses. In all the excitement, she never got her Ossian trump back from Marius.
And she's in too much of a hurry to deal with this stupid knot.
She crawls over her bed to the nightstand, pulls a switchblade from the drawer, and slices through the cord just beside the knot. She leaves the bag (and the wadded pair of opera gloves tucked inside) on the nightstand, but brings the trump case and the blade with her.
Back to the dresser, then, where she hastily pulls on travel clothes -- jeans, camisole, shirt, socks --
-- and then it's back into the sitting-room, where Fathom has discovered the dress, its plumes stirring slightly in a draft from under the door, and is Showing It Who's Boss. Folly eggs him on while she pulls on a pair of boots.
Then to the closet, from which she retrieves a jacket and an already-packed knapsack. She tucks her trump case into a secure inside pocket of the jacket and the switchblade into an easy-to-access side pocket of the knapsack. If Martin thinks she needs a more substantial weapon than that, they'll have to grab one on the way out.
Ready....
Almost.
Folly goes to the desk and pulls out a sheet of paper and a pen....
Paige --I'm
Leaving...
Oh, pretty much RIGHT NOW.
V. hectic, and
Everyone's scattering.... Anyhow, would
You mind holding on to my trump of
Ossian, if I don't see Marius (who has it)
Until my return?
(shouldn't be gone long, but
one never knows....)
-F
Folly pauses, wondering what she might've forgotten, and her eyes fall again on the mighty grey hunter stalking her sitting-room floor. She switches the pen to her off hand and adds in a childish hand:
Please come visit while Mummy is away. We can make ever so much mischief while she's not looking....
She signs this last bit with a sketch of a little paw-print.
"Be good while I'm away, OK?" she says, scooping up Fathom and scratching him under the ears. "And be safe," she adds.
And then she's away -- first to slip her note under Paige's door, and then on to Martin's room....
The Family Wing is practically deserted, Folly notes with relief. She is in no mood to be diverted.
She moves quietly to Paige's quarters and slides the note, neatly folded in quarters, under the door.
"Be strong, sweetheart," she murmers, though there's no one there to hear her.
Then she hastens to the King's wing, to Martin's room. His clothes lie in a neat bundle on the bed with his boots on top. She gathers them up into the crook of her arm and casts a quick parting glance around the room, looking for anything she might've missed.
He's already got a sword, Folly reminds herself. Not that that would be the best weapon where they're going....
The path between Martin's room and the office is even more deserted than the Family Wing, and Folly sprints much of the distance, spurred on by a potent mix of excitement and nerves she is almost afraid to examine too closely.
She announces her return with a quick rhythmic figure -- a riff she picked up from Random -- tapped softly against the door with the knuckles of her free hand.
She pauses, listening. When she doesn't hear a "no, don't come in yet!" she opens the door and slips quietly into the room.
Random is applying a covering dressing to the wound.
"OK, that should hold it together until it holds itself together. Drink plenty of fluids, and no unnecessarily vigorous activity for a few days."
Martin takes his clothes from Folly and steps behind the desk while Random puts away the medical supplies.
"You get everything you need? Good. I'm doing a lot of things in one stroke by sending you two to get Soren, not the least of which is get Soren, who we're gonna need. If nothing else works, tell him I'll explain everything."
Random doesn't let her answer. "Martin's doing really well with all this, but he doesn't know what he doesn't know, you know? He'll do the job, but I know he's gonna worry about not knowing why, which I can't help yet."
A small smile -- part amused, part wistful -- has crept to the corner of Folly's mouth. God, but she's missed him. She nods her (vague partial) understanding.
"Anyway, look after him, OK?"
A reassuring smile replaces the amused one. I always do, she thinks. She's about to say it, too, when....
"Um. Can someone help me with my shirt?" says Martin from behind the desk.
Folly crosses behind the desk and takes a white T-shirt from Martin's hands, holding it open while he carefully inserts both arms and pulling it down his chest. Martin smiles encouragingly at her as he stands up and tucks in his T-shirt. He lets Folly help him put on a light linen shirt as well, although that may not have been medically necessary. And Folly takes perhaps slightly more time about it than is medically necessary.
While Martin dresses, Random picks up Martin's sword, looking closely at the blade, feeling the weight of it. When he notices that Martin is dressed, he says "I meant to do this earlier, but my plans got derailed. Kneel."
Martin looks at him. Random lifts the sword into a guard position. "Kneel!"
Martin does so, with sort of a half-frown. Random touches the sword lightly to Martin's shoulder. "For defense of the realm and the King, I dub thee Sir Martin." Martin's eyes widen as Random touches the sword to his other shoulder. "May this be the last blow you take unanswered. Rise, Sir Martin."
Martin does that, with a delighted grin. "Thanks, Dad. What order?"
"Oh." Random thinks. "A new order." He picks up Dara's abandoned projectile from the desk. "Knight Commander of the Order of the Card. You're in charge of it. Think it over and tell me what it does after we get back together."
"Will do, Dad."
Folly, who has watched the proceedings with obvious joy, now crosses to Martin's uninjured side and loops her arm through his. She looks up at him, smiling, and is probably about to offer her congratulations when her brain works its way around the initials of his new position.
She bites her bottom lip, but can't suppress a snort of laughter. She flashes Random a mock-accusatory look: "And I suppose next you'll be giving us Knights-Commander of the Order of the Stocking? Or the Order of Barley?" She grins.
"I heard they were supposed to be the Order of the Roadies and carry the gear around, but they misheard," chimes in Martin.
Folly laughs, giddily.
"Yeah, and then it was too late. Friggin Daeon. I should never have let all of his personalities have the vote." Random grins back, then lets his face take on a more serious mien. "Go. Find me my bard. Write songs about the derring do after we've done it."
Folly nods. "Be safe, okay?" Her casual tone doesn't quite hide the emotion behind her words. But she smiles as she adds, "and good luck, not that you've ever needed any extra...."
She hesitates for a moment, then releases Martin's arm and gives Random a hug. It's not quite a lover's embrace, nor yet a niece's, but instead lies in a warm and comfortable in-between.
Syd hugs her back, and it's clear to Folly that he's also emotionally wrung out. After a long moment, he releases her, and steps over to Martin, carefully embracing him without disturbing the bandaged shoulder. Martin gives him an extra squeeze when Random is about to let go.
"I'll call you." Random says, with a grin, and ruffles his son's hair.
"Call hard," says Martin, "because I won't answer otherwise." He turns and picks up his sword from the desk, where Random put it down after knighting him, and buckles it on. "Safe journey, Dad."
And he takes Folly's arm and leads her out of Random's office. If Folly looks back as they walk down the hall, she sees Random watching them from the doorway. He might have winked, but it's hard to tell in the dark hall.
Martin does not look back.
Last modified: 18 August 2003