The first trip Edan makes is to the aforementioned tailor. Having a Sergei Polunin-like acrobatic dance in mind, he has some very specific needs for dancing clothes and the abuse he intends to put them through. While there, he acquiesces to fittings for more formal wear, as needed.
Random has declared that kilts are the only acceptable formalwear for men this year. (OOC: "It was that or speedos!".) The tailors are keen to accommodate a prince of the blood.
Edan: ...
Tailor: ...
Edan: ...
Tailor: ...
Edan: "He didn't really say that, did he?"
Tailor: "I was not there, sir, but my sister's boy is a footman, and he practically dived down the waterfall to tell me to buy up every yard of tartan plaid I could find. The orders started coming in that night, and we made a killing. It's why we're still in stock and you're here and not at another tailors, Sir."
[OOC: Anything for your troops?]
That's a little more complicated, since there are so many. Dress uniform would be layers of colorful robes and a colorful turbaned hat. Maybe the material is there already, since Land of Peace sailors have been in the city for some time, but if there isn't they'll have to approximate the look they want.
The tailors seem to thing that something like Zouave gear could be created quickly, for an appropriate expedited fee. How does he want to differentiate officers, both formally and on the field of battle?
After some thought, Edan decides to make differentiation in the sashes they wear along with the badges that pin the turbans in place. The fee is not really a problem, but would everything be ready in time? Edan is thinking especially about pulling the troops away from their duties and practice for fittings.
The tailor will subcontract the basic construction for the enlisted men and the officers will have his best hands working on their gear. He expects to be ready in a timely fashion, especially since he can re-use some existing outfits.
(Anything else? Anyone to see? How does Edan plan to arrive?)
Paige will wait until they meet at the event (fashionably late, as suggested) but Random might have wanted to discuss the message from the Dey. Edan wouldn't mind catching up on news of the Family, too. He goes to check and see if there was any message back from the king.
As far as the performance goes, the planning is going on in Edan's mind the whole time; actual practice will take place in the evening. With limited time, he will be modifying one of his old routines into something new.
A page with a card arrives and it's presented to Edan. He is invited to join Random at 'the ol' swimmin' hole', 'behind the water fall', 'at the bottom', 'Xanadu' for drinks and a swim.
Ha! For once, Edan is in a position to be prepared. His Rebman trunks will be the perfect clothing to wear under his robes and to have when he's asked to swim. Thus attired, he heads off to where the waterfall spills into the harbor/bay. On the way, he sends Kyauta out to hunt, with the admonition to stay away from people and the city.
Kyauta thinks of fish, and flies off.
Edan arrives at the place and sees Random floating in a yellow inflatable duck. Next to him is a much smaller inflatable, with a number of bottles in it. There's another duck on the shore. Random waves Edan over.
Edan blinks, then strips down to his trunks and swims over while towing the other duck. There's no Pattern to help here, but he's confident he has the balance to crawl/flop on the thing without falling back off.
After what is no doubt an embarrassing display of splashing, he solemnly adds, "Your Majesty. Did you get my note?"
Random nods. "C sharp? Yes, but I already have one of those. Mine's just a hair above 227 cycles per second."
Edan blinks. "I understood that reference."
"That calls for a drink!" says Random. He drinks.
The king pushes the inflatable cooler towards Edan. None of the bottles are labeled and they are all different. "Tell me what you know or suspect about Asiria. Let me know which parts are which."
Random beverages. Hmm. Edan opens one and eyes the contents before trying it. "The Dey was trying very hard to convince us that the Asir were a sect of the Klybesians. This immediately smells bad, since I've never heard of a marid just giving information away for free. But if I proceed on the assumption the Dey owed one of us a favor, then I hit another roadblock. I know very little of the Asirians. I think one of the forces that marched into Broceliande past me were Asir? In which case, Paige would know them better."
He looks back up to Random. "It seemed important to the Dey, enough to leave a very strong sorcerous message, and only a few of us that would find and understand it. I figured that if there was information being exchanged around Family on our common threats, you'd be at the center of it - and in the best position to pass it along to those of us who needed it."
Random swigs his beverage. "Sounds like the marid is sort of 'Our Marid' and he wants to convince us that the 'Asirians' are 'The Klybesian's Asirians'. So, just to tick off some fingers, Lucas went to Asir, he's dead. Solange went to Asir, she's missing, Huon went to Asir, Bog knows why. Brita and Conner went after him. Anyone else been there?" Random reached for another bottle.
"Oh, yeah, and Solange saw Floaty Woman there. I find the Dey's information credible, don't you?"
Edan's eyes are wide. Also very brightly golden. "I didn't know all that. Sounds like very good information, indeed." He frowns. "It sounds like a job for a reconnaissance in force, which would be a very good task for a few knights." The frown grows deeper. "But more than I can handle, if the Turcopolier is there. Wish I knew how my father gets armies together so quickly. Has any Family been there recently? As in, possibly still there?"
Random shakes his head, sending water drops spattering outwards into the lagoon. "Brita and Conner were the last I knew of, and I hear they're back. If anyone else has gone, either they forgot to tell me or I forgot that they told me, so effectively 'no'.
"So, you have a small group of knights, I notice, which is quite a co-incidence since this is a good task for knights." Random swigs his new bottle as well. "Normally somewhere around here, a King would give a Knight who is doing him a bunch of favors some reward, like the right to start an order of knights or a land-grant, or a title a beer or something. Anything like that that you feel like I should reward you with for good and faithful service?"
"You have already done these things, Your Majesty, and I am grateful," Edan says. "I have yet to accomplish the goals you have put before me, unless you want to count the establishment of this Order as 'protection of the realm'. I suppose we will see the wisdom of my choices after tomorrow, when I suppose we will be taking a trip to Asir."
Random nods, and leans back until his hair is just barely in the water, cooling the back of his head. "It's easy in my shoes to underpay people who are actually helping me. Of course it's easy to overpay as well. Let me know if I do either.
"Gerard said something about problems sailing to Asir. You'll probably have to ride. You may prefer that, given your desert nomads and their relative lack of experience as seamen." Random put his empty back in the cooler, face-down. "One more soldier who died for the cause..."
He looks back at Edan. "Do you need anything else or do you have what you need to do a little reconnaissance in force in Asirria? Do you want to wait until you have actually picked up some recruits after your ball, Cinderella?"
Edan looks momentarily confused, but nods at the last. "More is better, as I don't know what I'm dealing with. No one is trained to the level I want yet, so I will have to plan around it." He frowns. "Things changed much more rapidly at my home than I anticipated. The riders are out of practice. The magic of the place drained away, and with it those fantastic races who could survive there. That last, it seems, was my doing."
Random shakes his head. "We have little control over what happens in shadow when we are not there, less so than when we are present, which isn't always much. Imagine you find two shadows. In one, you left and they decided to become a stable republic based on your never returning, and another where they decided on a series of dictators who followed you.
"Is one real? Is the other non-real? Are you to blame for either outcome?" Random skips his beer cap across the water. It goes 5 hops and sinks. "You can really wreck yourself worrying about stuff like that."
Edan nods his agreement. "There is also the question of religion. Most of those I have brought with me are of the faith. I know that many of the Land of Peace preceded us to Amber, and now Xanadu. How are you addressing their worship of the Merciful One here?"
Random frowns. "With less of a heavy hand than my father. I am told he had less of a heavy hand until he was betrayed. Also, no Klybesians or friends of the Klybesians.
"So, knowing that I am a non-believer and am not looking to spread any religion in my shiny new capitol, How would you like me to have addressed your co-religionists and their religious predilections?"
Edan shakes his head. There are words, but he suddenly has trouble saying them.
Eventually he manages, "I would not have asked anything different. I am pleased that there is not a pogrom against those of the faith, for I am the one who led them here, almost by force of will, and I would be responsible for what befell them. I..." The next part is harder, but he manages to speak past the lump in his throat. "I shared their faith. Of course you knew that. It was Clarissa that finally convinced me that my faith was folly, that I had shackled my potential...by worshipping a being of Shadow. Father had tried to do the same, but I was... stubborn." A long pause. "Many of those I brought still have the faith. Some of them, they look at me almost as with worship. Some are conflicted, directionless." He smiles a little, then. "It was not by accident that I raised this Order as a secular entity. But I still must live the lie, neh? I must keep up appearances, so as not to break the morale of my company."
"Your grandmother also thinks it's appropriate to rip a person in half to break them out of jail and that it's a good idea to talk to babies while they are still in situ, so be sure to take her advice only with a needed grain of salt. If I had to guess based on what little I know of each of them, she doesn't like the idea of worshipping her ex father-in-law."
Random's raft is floating slowly clockwise around the swimming hole. "Some religious orders have these sorta half-baked idea that all roads lead to divinity and it's just a matter of finding your path. I don't buy that. Most of most religions are wrong, but are pretty damn sure that they're right. They're also generally pretty good at using their wrong truths as the basis of actions." Random paddles a bit so that he keeps facing Edan.
"On the other hand, most people can screw up that way with or without religion, so it's not like it's unique in getting some things wrong. So, whatever they make of things here, that's what they are. They'll need to figure out how they fit in with that, or they won't fit in.
"There's a faction of Little Furry Guys who helped out Corwin and your father when they invaded Amber, poor dudes got called on three times! Anyway, when they came to Amber to march to Chaos down the Black Road, one of them was corrected by Brennan. The little guy was telling him about the 'Great God Corwin' and the 'Great God Random' and such and mentioned the 'God Brennan' and got corrected, forcefully, that Brennan was also a Great God. Five hundred years from now, the Greater Brennan Alliance may fight a war against the Lesser Brennanites. That's not Brennan's fault —- He's going to have an oversized impact on shadow because of who he is, but even he can't make people do the right thing. Sometimes they take pleasure in not doing what you've tried to teach them. People, feh.
"There's a moral to this story, I think. And it's not just 'Don't start telling the story unless you know where it ends.' No, the moral I mean here is 'let people do what they need to do and support you without too much deception, but even if that's not what you do, you're not really responsible for what they do in 500 years.'"
Edan thinks about this a minute before a slow smile appears. "You know, sometimes I wonder what you're saying. And sometimes, you say exactly what I need to hear. I am only about thirty years old, if you count the time dilation from my gran turismo. I often forget how many of you look at time." A pause. "Speaking of time, should I be hurrying? Have you heard anything about our enemies' timetables that I haven't?"
Random paddles. "We're still scouting for them. That's Paige and Hannah's secondary mission, after finding Solange. It's pretty easy to give orders to you lot sometimes. 'Go out in shadow, range widely, and report when you see the bad dudes,' I say. 'Good, our plan was to go out into shadow, range widely, and report when we saw the bad dudes,' your generation says.
"Much smarter than my generation. We'd told Dad, 'Hell, no! Our plan is to go out into shadow, range widely, and report when we see the bad dudes.'"
Edan smiles at that one. "It is good. The more time I have to draw in troops, the better. If I were hurried, I could still find those who could fight; but there would be Sorcery involved, and sacrifices made that I would not otherwise want."
Random leans back and dips his head again, this time coming off the tube he's been sitting in and coming back up in the middle of it. "Not even Benedict gets to have wars without undesirable sacrifices. But that's beside the point. The only other item you may be interested in is that Julian is fighting the dragon-spawn in the woods and if you are looking to combat-season your troops, he might have a nearby and useful fight. If that's useful, just call him. I'm sure he can point you at the fighting."
Random holds up a hand, distracted, and has a brief conversation with someone not there. A moment late he reaches out and pulls Vere out of a rainbow sparkle of light. Vere's eyes widen slightly as he materializes standing on the very unstable platform of a floating tube. He shifts his weight desperately for several seconds, finally giving in to the inevitable and folding his body, falling straight down onto the tube with a splash.
"Uncle Caine did not bother mentioning that aquatic sport was involved when he sent me through, Your Majesty." He offers the king the letter. "From the Regent of Amber."
After paying his respects to the king Vere turns his head and smiles at Edan. "Well met, Cousin," he says.
Edan raises a bottle in salute. "Well met, yourself, Cousin. We meet in the strangest of places."
Random takes the note and reads it, dropping it in the lagoon when he's done. "If Caine says it's necessary, I'm ok with it. You are forbidden to die. On another subject, I wonder..."
Random lifts himself up on his arms in his tube and, balancing very carefully, stands up. "Now all I need is either a hula-hoop or a hockey stick. I think we could get a pretty good sport out of this..."
Vere smiles quietly at the king's enthusiasm, then turns back to Edan. "I have been ordered to ascend the staircase to Tir," he explains. "And I shall need someone whom I can trust to watch me through a trump connection, to pull me through should I start to fall to my death."
Edan keeps his smile, but Vere can see that his skin blanches visibly. "Ah, yes, Tir-na Nog'th. I have been there, with my father as the spotter. Do you have someone picked already to assist you? And- probably more important- have you ever been there before?"
The King sits, and pulls his tube towards the shore. In an eddy there, he 'finds' an oar, probably lost overboard from some sailing ship. He stands again and starts rowing himself. "It's like a Stand-up paddle board, but without the board." He begins practicing his new sport.
Vere keeps an eye on the king, in case he wants something, but his words are clearly for Edan. "Never," he answers. "I have read and heard reports, of course, but that is no substitute for experience. And in answer to the first question, no, I have not yet asked anyone to aid me in this. I only learned that I was to do this within the last hour." He smiles very slightly. "My choices shall be limited to those cousins who are here, and willing."
Edan barely hesitates. "I can do so," he says. "I would want a few hours rest after the moon sets tonight, but your business with Tir would be done by then, anyway. If you are planning on walking the Pattern, you will want to be there as the city appears, give yourself as much time as you can."
The princess is dressed for riding and is, in fact, in a stable. There are a half-dozen seahorses here. "Welcome Sir Ophiuchus, Lady Robin." The airy water here is somehow thinner, as mountain air is thinner than sea-level air. Sir Ophiuchus is looking beyond Llewella to the sea-horses.
Ooooo. Robin's gaze follows Sir Ophiuchus' to the sea-horses. She uses her critter-distraction to take a few moments to adjust to the new water pressure. Bleah. Another quick moment to check that all of her fellow travelers are okay, then she notices....
Llewella is waiting for something, perhaps introductions.
Ah, Robin blushes. She bows again ('cause Bleys isn't here) and begins the introductions:
"Princess Llewella, may I present Sir Ophiuchus, yclept The Serpent-Bearer, formerly Guardian of Methrin's Font, sworn to the Lady of the Lake, Morgne. And his mount, Eckford. Both of whom are currently under my own protection. Further, may I introduce Peep, Chirrup and Ooot, firelizards extraordinaire." She leans forward to confide, "But still a bit young and brash, I'm afraid.
"Sir Ophiuchus, may I present my Aunt, Princess Llewella of Rebma, Amber and Xanadu. Uhh..."
Robin loses the rest of her words at that point. Castor would arrange another lesson on backup strategies. But frankly, Robin's been under water for a long time, through a major Patternwork, a storm, a vision, an Uncle and now Rebman formality/politics (poodles!) While Robin is mighty, she is starting to lag mentally.
Sin Ophiuchus bows low to Llewella. After a brief and probably measured time, she moves her hand and Ophiuchus rises. "It is an honor, Princess."
"Rebma and I welcome you and I must compliment your fine mount. He looks to be closely related to some of the species here, but exotic."
The fire lizards are as at-home in the airy-water as they are on land, and it is certainly interesting to see how they adapt to the differences in flying.
Ophiuchus looks pleased at the compliment of Eckford. "Thank you, your highness. My wife and I are long and far from our home, and appreciate your welcome."
"My brother teased your story but kept much of it as mere tantalizing fragments, as is his wont. Would you all like refreshment and to sate my curiosity? Unless you need to move on quickly..."
Robin's attention drifts back from where she was watching her firelizards with a smile, contemplating getting them into real water in training for taking on the Big Lake Thing in the caves under Xanadu Castle.
"We don't need to move on quickly per se, but we do need to contact Vere or to see if he's checked in at Xanadu yet. Sir Ophiuchus' wife and liege are with him, as well as two others. We became separated during a recent shadow storm and were to rendezvous as Xanadu, but..." she shrugs. Stuff happened.
"Refreshment would be wonderful, your Highness, thanks you. And I'd be pleased to do what I can to ameliorate you curiosity. Bleys' teasing... yes." Robin nods. For a moment there, she saw what it would be like growing up with Bleys as a big brother. Wow, does Robin prefer the dogs, horses, hawks and rangers who raised her.
Llewella nods and her hair does an elaborate dance around her. "We can take care of all these things from my quarters. Come."
She leads the party (minus Eckford) to a balcony high on the castle of Rebma, with a wide seating area around a fire pit. "I will use my trumps from my dry room, but first, tell me your story, Robin."
Robin sits herself gingerly with a nod. She's still a raptor under water but at least she's not bouncing off of things (unintentionally) anymore. She takes a moment to appreciate the open view and currents before turning to Llewella with a nod. She's just taken in a big breath of water when...
A great, silent being, half-eel and half man, swam up to the edge of the balcony, where Llewella is sitting. "Ah, Timaeos. Can you have the staff send tea to my balcony. Tea for eight, please." The huge being nods once, slowly, and swims down and out of view.
Robin's eyes widen with glee. After Timaeos swims away, Robin purposely bounces out of her seat to watch him swim until she can't see him anymore. Her sparkling eyes turn back to Llewella, "Triton?" she asks. Not really expecting an answer, she drop/settles back into her seat with a happy wriggle, delighted that there are so many neat beings in the universe.
Llewella nods, serenely. "Timaeos. He's been with me since I was a girl"” Robin isn't sure exactly what, but she suspects that her Aunt had the Triton swim up for a reason other than to send him for tea.
With an effort, Robin drags herself back to her Aunt's curiosity.
"Story, story..." it takes the girl a moment to gather her thoughts. Even though she just told Bleys this, his suggested edits are already troubling her ability to speak.
"Let's see, I was exploring the Deep Forest on my Father's request, when I came across two nearly forgotten outposts guarding a hostile border between them. One guarded Merlin's Fountain and was manned by Lady Laudine and her Champion, Sir Ywain, and was on the Land. They told me tales of Avalon, Paris, Arthur and called their home Trescesson. One guarded Methrin's Font and was manned by Lady Morgne and her Champion, Sir Ophiuchus," she gestures with a smile to her companion, "and was in the Lake. They spoke of King Mark, Moins, Auberon and Tir fo Thuin.
"After some investigation, it seemed that both of these outposts' courts were long ago and/or had drifted away, but the four Guardians were trapped by a sorcerous blood oath woven into the Shadow by someone named Basina. While none of the four were particularly eager to see the ancient wars start up again, neither did they feel that their stewardship was... really strategic anymore. And after several eons, I think everyone was pretty much over it.
"So I called Vere over and he handled the sorcerous working while I handled the Shadow working. Of course when a binding that tight for that long is undone... you know, tsunamis, storms, etc. etc. In the resultant flight for our lives, we became separated. Vere should be with Ladies Laudine and Morgne, and Sir Ywain. Me and Ophiuchus ended up... elsewhere. But as we were separating, I told Vere to meet up at Xanadu. So I really want to connect with him and hook Ophiuchus and Morgne back up. 'Cause it's not right for them to be apart when they hit our shores.
"Aaannyway, the elsewhere Ophiuchus and I ended up looks to be Corwin's sunken silver towers in Avalon. At least, Bleys thinks so and... there's a lot of evidence to support that," Robin allows. "While we were there, we found: Lir's tomb which had been defiled and Sir Ophiuchus is not happy about that because Lir was his liege, another cairn which we didn't have time to disinter, the awesome echo of a major Pattern event which left an impression on me that I have to talk to Benedict and Corwin about before I go any more into... oh, and Bleys did some chalk-circle-hand-wavy thing and said he didn't detect any 'magical compulsions to kill the King or do other anti-social things' on Ophiuchus so..." Robin shrugs, "But even though I'm tired enough to be overly casual, Highness, I still do consider Sir Ophiuchus under my protection until such time as we can reunite him with his Lady."
And tea for eight is sounding better and better to Robin right now.
Llewella nods at all the appropriate places. When Robin finishes, the Princess says "I take note of your protection. I will pass the word to the guard that if we have to arrest Sir Ophiuchus, we will also have to arrest you."
Robin nods, "That'll work." She has absolute confidence that getting arrested will only release a world of hurt on the arrestees. That's how it is with Scions of Amber. Poor Random. And Celina. And pretty much anyone responsible for the wrangling of Lords of Order...
Tea arrives at exactly that moment, on a cart pushed by a Rebman woman with deep green skin and hair. 'Tea' consists mainly of fish and meats, with a sidebar of alcoholic beverages also available. There is quite a bit of food, and both Ophiuchus and Llewella dig in with gusto.
Robin chirps happily and digs in as well. Though still an amateur with the underwater eating thing, she isn’t about to let that get between her and meat. And Robin definitely prefers the meat; whale, seal, anything red. Alcohol is indulged in too.
"Tell us more of Lir, Sir Ophiuchus," says Llewella. "In this time and place he is a legend, and his name is invoked as a Saint or Demi-God. He was your Leige?"
Sir Ophiuchus nods. "Yes, Ma'am. Prince Lir led the armies of Rebma in during the Princes' War. My family was attached to his service, and had been for generations. I never saw him, but I was a simple soldier in the conflict."
Sir Ophiuchus pauses there, and takes a large bite of some sort of battered fish.
Robin looks between the two of them, mouth full and not looking to interrupt in this very important conversation. Which maybe she will remember, but probably not. Sigh.
And then she becomes distracted with the teaching of polite underwater table manners to Peep, Chirrup and Ooot.
Llewella asks a few polite questions about The Princes' War and the three ladies who locked up the borders, and offers to send an archivist to take his testimony, sometime after he's settled in.
Sir Ophiuchus seems willing to go along with almost anything someone who can order tea from a triton says.
Llewella stands. "Robin, do you want to join me in a call to your uncle to ask after Vere? Sir Ophiuchus can wait here if he wishes."
"Uhhhh," Robin is torn. Dry room, Ophiuchus. Dry room, duty as protector. Dry room, only familiar face in a new era. Dry room... oh who is she kidding. Even without the additional temptation of finding out where Vere is, the chance to get dry is overwhelmingly tempting to Robin.
But courtesy does require, so she asks Sir Ophiuchus, "Will you be okay for a few moments?"
Ophiuchus swallows the scallop he's eating. "I shall be fine."
If he seems fine, then Robin bounces up out of her chair and does her best not to trod on Llewella's heels as they head toward -- heaven! -- the dry room.
Llewella leads Robin up a spiral staircase to a room at the top of her quarters. She dons a robe and offers one to Robin, then she wraps a towel around her hair. The robe is luxuriously fluffy and absorbent, and is, somehow, warm.
The room is round and windowless, but is large enough to have a sitting area and some storage. It's probably mostly used by people coming or going to Amber or Xanadu. There are no mirrors in the room at all.
Robin coughs, splutters and is generally unlovely as she readjusts to air. Despite that, she is ecstatic to be out of the water.
When Llewella hands her the robe, Robin looks at it warily for a moment. Even though she has been underwater for a while now, she has been pulling up seaweed, digging in silt and laying in mud. And it shows. Robin, never a particularly neat or clean person to start with, is now thoroughly bedraggled and muddy. But dry!
She chirps happily at that thought and blesses her Aunt as she takes the robe, shakes, fluffs and towels off. Once the spate of mud spatters, loose feathers, twigs and what-the-heck-is-that!'s have dropped off to an acceptable level, Robin looks to her Aunt with curious eyes, looking much like a freshly fluffed owlet.
When both of them are adequately dry, Llewella pulls out her trump deck. "Random and Gerard are both in residence, that I know of. Who do you want to call?"
Robin sighs, "The King, I suppose. It's kind of official..." She doesn't like using the King of All Reality as a communications hub, but that's how the stupid Trumps work. And, she supposes, if Random didn't want it to be that way, he certainly had the power to change it...
Llewella draws out the card and places it on the table between them. She touches the card and nods towards Robin to join her.
After a moment, the connection becomes clear. "Who calls?"
"Llewella, and Robin."
"I've invented a new sport, which is a Kingly accomplishment for the day. What can I do for you two?"
Llewella lets Robin explain.
Robin grins at the Kingly accomplishment - that seems something she can get behind.
"Sire," she begins formally but it doesn't last, "I asked Princess Llewella if we could call because... Vere and I got separated during a Shadowstorm, violently, and I asked him to rendez-vous in Xanadu, so I'm trying to get a message to him that myself and Ophiuchus are safe in Rebma." Robin can't help the strong 'Bleah' impression that accompanies the thought of Rebma in her mind. It's not personal, it's just wet.
"And I suppose I should report briefly, that I... found an ancient Shadow-knot/guard post complete with ancient guardians, unraveled that, started the Shadowstorm, fled with said uninterested-in-starting-anything ancient guardians and Vere, got separated, found... Avalon, I guess, complete with tomb-of-Lir and other stuff, got Pattern-visioned with something I need to talk to Corwin and Benedict about, called Bleys (he's there now, I think) and Trumped to Rebma with one of the ancient guardian guys who's under my protection and am fine, but tired. And not currently wet. But that'll probably change soon." Oooo, really tired. Robin bites off her words before they become totally stream of consciousness on her.
Random has an oar in hand and seems to be using it to paddle somewhere. "It almost always does, in Rebma. Vere is here, but he's alone and apparently lost a bet to Caine, so he may be busy for about a day. You want to talk to him? Vere? Do you want to talk to Robin?"
Robin's thoughts burst off into little flocks again.
The fastest, loudest birds are barely verbal, just a sky-shot burst of bonfire-bright love and joy. 'Vere! Vere! Vere! Yes! Yes! Yes!'
Castor's training kicks in a heartbeat later as a more polite and grateful bird adds, 'Yes, please. Thank you.'
Then the shivering birds hiding in the bushes chirp. 'Alone? What happened? Are Morgne, Ywain and whats-her-name-Laudine okay? Oh, please let them be okay. I don't want to be stuck with Ophiuchus forever...'
It's from these last birds that the dark crows begin emerging. 'Caine? Bastard. Killer of friends and loyal servants. Grrrrrr....'
And, 'Vere? In his debt? Dammit! If Caine gets Vere killed, I will....'
But right there, Robin's stormhawks of loyalty cut in, '...do nothing. Prince Caine weighs more in the universe than us. No more civil wars - ever!'
A sad little practical bird adds, 'But we'd probably have to join Jove in running off the crazy....'
At this point, Robin realizes that she's not alone in her mind. Uhhhh.... The heat of Robin's internal blush is furnace-warm. And she settles on Castor's birds for actual words.
"Yes, please. Thank you." Blush, blush, blush.
[OOC: The King is listening, probably, but he's also letting Edan and Vere talk without needing to bring him in every second sentence...]
After a moment, he paddles a bit further and says "Who calls?" Then he adds "I've invented a new sport, which is a Kingly accomplishment for the day. What can I do for you two?"
Vere's eyes continue to follow the king as he paddles further away. "Your aid would be greatly appreciated," he tells Edan. "There should be an image of me in the Royal Trump Booth, which you can use. I am happy to say that I have no plans to walk the Pattern. Instead, I am to seek out Tir's reflections of some individuals of interest." He tilts his head to one side. "I believe the theory is that Tir reacts to one's thoughts, so if one goes to Tir and holds certain individuals firmly in mind, one is likely to be shown a vision of those individuals. So our elders appear to believe, in any case."
Edan frowns and splashes around so that he can face Vere. "Traditionally, the spotter is on the first steps of the Stair. There's more to that than a better view of a falling relative. Some of us can actually stage a rescue." He glances Random's way, then back to Vere. "Call me paranoid, but there needs to be another layer of contingency. Unless they'd let me take your Trump out of the booth and us both go there."
Vere opens his mouth to answer, but...
Random paddles back towards Vere and Edan. "It almost always does, in Rebma. Vere is here, but he's alone and apparently lost a bet to Caine, so he may be busy for about a day. You want to talk to him? Vere? Do you want to talk to Robin?"
The king holds his hand out, but Vere would have to stand up to reach it...
In a graceful flowing movement Vere is on his feet, balancing with ease on the tube. His hand shoots out and grabs the king's, in what a more traditional monarch than Random might consider lèse-majesté.
Edan smiles slightly, watching, and resolutely paddles back to where he might be out of easy earshot.
Vere feels the contact with other minds, as the cards allow one to do. He sees Llewella and Robin in from of him. Both are wearing robes and Llewella has a towel wrapped around her hair.
"Robin?" he says, a very faint note of hope in his voice.
"Vere, Vere, Vere!" comes back the immediate enthusiastic and bonfire response. It takes a lot of willpower for Robin not to leap through the Trump contact and pounce on Her Love. There's a sense of some little restraint (and embarrassment) as Robin is trying to be polite to the other people in the Trump contact. But her overwhelming love for the most beautiful, smartest, most rational and awesomest person in the Universe is hard to miss.
"My love," Vere answers with a smile. "It is very good to see you." He nods to Llewella. "Aunt. Thank you for arranging this contact." His eyes go back to Robin. "All is well with me and the ones who came with me. I trust all is well with you?"
Random interrupts, preventing Robin from answering. "Yes, yes, touching reunion, film at eleven, and all that. Vere, is Caine's little errand tied to these people Robin thinks are with you? Do you need the last one to complete the set?
"Also, Robin is not the best choice for your second in the matter, because you two might miss a few cues and then she'd feel just awful."
"Edan has offered to watch me as I go to Tir," Vere answers, "If we might use the trump from your trump booth here in Xanadu. And yes, Caine wants me to go to Tir to see what vision I might encounter regarding the ancients we rescued, who travel with myself and Robin. Their physical presence is not needed, and indeed the three who traveled with me are still in Amber. I plan on bringing them back to Xanadu with me once I return to Amber, and will introduce them to your majesty, as I have already introduced them to Caine and Benedict." He pauses very briefly, considering what other information he wants to impart to Robin under the guise of answering his uncle's question, and concludes with, "It is Uncle Caine's nature to be suspicious, and considering the situation impartially I agree that gaining more information about the possible alliances and entanglements they might have had in the past, which even they may have forgotten over the weary ages that they have stood guard, is a wise precaution."
Robin presses her lips together in a scowl at the thought of Caine sending Vere to Tir. But she understands, business now, touching reunion later. And she must concur, Tir and herself is a seriously-not-good-combination.
"Ummmm, is there any way we can get at least Morgne here to Rebma?" Not that she wants to leave anyone in Amber, but... "Ophiuchus is being a trooper and all, but he'd really like his Lady Liege around when he's dealing with the likes of Bleys, Rebma and Tritons -- which are really cool!" Robin can't help adding in a rush.
The being-suspicious-of and gathering-information-about she leaves to other kin. To Robin's mind all folks are fine, until they're not. Then you stab them. (Unless they're Family, in which case you stab them very carefully. And if one thinks that one is not in a careful-stabbing mood than one shouldn't stab Family at all.)
So she just sighs and wonders how long this investigation-suspicion-information-gathering thing is going to go on. Verde, every time she goes for a walk, something ends up needing talking abo.... "Oh, Vere? Just a heads-up; I'm going to need to talk to Corwin soon. Wheeee...." Her enthusiasm knows no bounds.
Random makes a mental note not to assign Robin as Ambassador to Gateway and lets them talk...
Vere tilts his head to one side, considering for a moment, then answers, "Alas, my love, I fear that it will not be possible to send Morgne through to you. She and her sister guardian are resting in Amber, after an eventful travel through that interesting storm we summoned up, and a slightly tense visit to Asir Island and the hospitality of the Paresh. I shall be returning to Amber as soon as I have completed my mission on Tir, and shall reassure her that Ophiuchus has arrived safely in Rebma. He will no doubt be much calmer once he knows his lady is safe." He pauses for another moment, then adds, "Might I suggest that once I have rejoined them I ask Uncle Caine to trump Queen Celina, and bring them all through to Rebma? We can then make an official presentation of Lady Morgne to the queen. After that we can take Laudine and her champion up the stairs to Paris, presenting them to King Corwin. We are then in position for an audience with the King."
"Oo, that's a good idea. I hope that happens," Robin answers, because her and plans? Rarely works out, but it's better than nothing. Mostly. Only because other people are involved...
"Soooo, you're going to Tir and NOT getting yourself killed. Cause I'll be even ruder than Brennan if you do. Annnddd I'm staying in Rebma," bleah, "to reassure Ophiuchus and maybe, nap if I can. Then you'll call Celina and we'll all get together and meet'n'greet under the sea. Right?" Robin's summary is casual and flippant but she is committing the plan to memory.
"Exactly so," Vere answers with a smile. "We unite the flock." He gives a short corvid mobbing call, then laughs. "Should events intercede to prevent some element of the plan then we extemporize, as always."
Robin caws the response and nods, a smile on her face. His accent is so cute. He's been listening to the Xanaduvian corvids again.
"I could write a book entitled 'Should Events Intercede to Prevent Some Element of the Plan...'," says Random. "It's a good plan, or a good enough to extemporize around. We'll temporize for now, though. Anything else, or are we settled in our various locales and roles? Robin, you need to try not to leak your editorial opinions so much. This is a mental communication channel."
Llewella smiles. "She does like Tritons, so she has that going for her in any case."
"Fair enough," replies Random.
Ooop! A flock of Robin thought-birds launches. Frantically, Robin mentally 'grabs' after them, stuffing them back into the mind-bushes as quickly as she can. What she ends up with is a few escaped mental words "Yikes," "But..." "Arrgh." and a kind of roiling mental cluster that peeps and chirps to itself but quickly calms down and gets quieter. Quieter enough for Robin to say very seriously, "Yes, Sire."
"I believe we have settled matters," Vere says. While his face and voice remain calm and controlled he allows a wave of love to pour through the connection to Robin. "Thank you, Aunt, for facilitating this communication."
Robin's response is immediate and warm, Loves Him! Yes, she does. She also tries to see if she can 'aim' that response, channel it, to Vere alone. Instead of drowning her Aunt and Uncle in romantic mushiness. Either way, she nods her thanks to the King as well. It was very, very kind of him to put her in touch with Vere.
Last modified: 13 May 2016