The Beginnings Of Farewell


With Julian's final words a long sigh drifts out of Robin and she leans against Vere, for a moment wearied and then just as suddenly buoyed up.

Her glowing eyes turn toward the Danu and her arms circle round to embrace him as Life is joyously kindled within her once more. The Ranger is sparkling effervescent as she raises her face to kiss her man - gloriously, exuberantly, full of love.

Vere bends his head and returns the kiss passionately, unconcerned about the public nature of their embrace. After a long moment he breaks the kiss and holds her tightly to him, whispering in her ear, "I have missed you."

Robin presses herself so strongly against Vere that it's a miracle their molecules aren't merging. As the kiss ends, she rests her head on his shoulder and nods. "Every day. Every breath. Stupid." The girl wrinkles her nose at their being apartness.

She feels Vere chuckle, although no sound of the laugh reaches his lips. "I need to return the Isles soon," he says. "And there are things I need to tell you before I leave." He looks around without releasing her. "I do not know if this is the place. Perhaps we should walk?"

"So soon?" Robin's head comes up to look at Vere with unhappy eyes. Plans are made and discarded in those green depths. "K. There's a pine grove just around that outcropping." She nods toward a spill of granite off to their left.

She rrrreeellluucccttaannly lets go with one hand to stand beside Vere hip to hip one, her other arm curled around his waist. Robin perks up slightly as she adds, "Maybe then you can tell me how you got those tres beau and so familiar looking streaks in your hair? Without the smell of dye?" A quick teasing grin dances across he face and her eyes sparkle.

He smiles back at her, and wraps an arm around her shoulder as they walk. "I fear I no longer have the token you gave me," he says in a mock-solemn voice. "Did you know that such things can burst into flames upon a Pattern?"

"What?!?" Robin looks alarmed, but quickly calms down. Vere's here - head, hair and all. And he's laughing about it. So... so it's okay.

Her green eyes blink rapidly as she shifts mental gears. The twinkle of humor returns to her eyes and an inelegant snort proceeds a thought that cannot be held back.

"Good thing I didn't give you lucky trews," she mutters.

Vere laughs in return, and hugs her close with the arm about her shoulder. "Indeed," he says.

Robin bumps him playfully with her hip as they walk, muffling a snort of laughter herself.

As they reach the grove he moves away from her, his hand sliding off her shoulder, along her arm, and taking her hand. In a continuation of the same movement he twirls her in a quick underarm turn, then pulls her back into his arms.

Robin chirrups with delight as she spins, light as a feather, giddy and free, to find herself once more within Vere's Vereness; breathless, wondering, thrilled and happy.

"The feathers burnt," he murmurs into her hair, "And brought me back to myself, and memory of you, in the deepest part of despair, when the Pattern tested me with fear and hopelessness, and questioned whether there was anything worth the effort of fighting for it. There was, they reminded me. There is. And when I completed the walk they had left their memory emblazed upon me, a shadow of the truth that is our love."

"Something to live for." Robin's voice is husky as she nods, affirmation rising from her own well of darkness and to Vere's. As she contemplates what the two of them are, what they have and what they will bring to all of existence merely by being what they have, a low whistle of astonished awe slips free from the girl.

She leans back and looks up at Vere, her eyes glowing, running loving fingers through Vere's colored locks, a universe of love in her gaze.

And then she sideslips from those aethereal currents back to the more familiar thermals of playfulness. "I want some too... oo, oo! Reid! I know..." Robin bites off her words, hiding the surprise, as she practically begins to dance in anticipation.

"Reid?" Vere raises an eyebrow inquisitively, then, seeing her pleasure in keeping a secret he lets the question go unanswered.

"Jovian tells me you may be coming to the Isles," he says. "I hope this is so."

"Yeah...." A furrow of concern wrinkles Robin's brow and she bites one corner of her lip absentmindedly as she stares off into the distance.

Her eyes snap back to Vere and she smiles, perhaps a little falteringly. "I mean, yes. He means for me to go the Isles. To 'weasel' something out of the Priestesses. And... it's a good thing and something that needs to be done." A baleful flash of green underlies that firm statement.

"But, for all that I really, really want to be with you," there's no doubting the flame of desire that leaps in Robin, "I... boy, I truly messed the place up last time I was there. And I'm kinda worried about what'll happen this time." She chews on her lip again.

Vere's face matches her seriousness. "Prince Julian would not send you if he was concerned that you would further damage the Isles, my love. Your instincts are good. Without you Avis would be dead, and Vianis would be far closer to victory."

The faltering falls away from Robin's smile as it becomes genuine. He is right - what a not surprise. Julian wouldn't sacrifice his homeland just to get her out of Arden. She's overthinking again. Robin croons happily as she hugs Vere again, immensely grateful for the comfort of both body and spirit. And with a wriggle of happiness that she will be with him, in the near time and in all the far time to come.

He sighs, and adds, "Avis and my mother know you are Ysabeau's daughter. I do not know how they learned this, they simply stated it as a known fact. Avis is plotting ways to use that knowledge as a political tool in the war." His tone is a mixture of affection and exasperation as he continues, "My sister is a born Queen, with all the political instincts that implies."

Avis. A quick smile dashes across Robin's face, followed by a nose scrunch. Girls with balls don't, indeed can't, just be what you want them to be. So okay.

"Avis was near enough to hear when Julian told me and Jove, so..." Robin shrugs. "I... uh, have all the political instincts of a water buffalo, my love." She grimaces. "So my tendency is that the lady can say what she wants. But trying to turn a scion of Amber is a risky dangerous business. She know that?" It's concern for Vere's sister and her land that prompts that question. Prince of Amber + against their will = *bad* things.

Vere shakes his head. "I do not think she quite understands. Perhaps you can explain things to her. She still views me as the headstrong little brother who tries to act too feminine and worries about things that really do not concern him. You, she will be more inclined to listen to."

"Hunh." Robin blows a breath out, fluffing her bangs. Her eyes glimmer with sympathy as she darts a glance to Vere. "Yeah, sure. I can take a swing at it if you want me to. But... you know that eventually there's going to come a time when..." the girl's hand flutter as she searches for words. "She's of Shadow, Vere. And you're not."

Robin's voice is as gentle and supporting as she can make it.

Vere tilts his head to one side. "Possibly," he concedes, "Although I am beginning to suspect that there was a mixture of the blood of Amber into the Isles before Oberon took Rilsa as his Queen. Ah..." he holds up a finger. "And this reminds me, an artifact of Ysabeau has been recovered. I do not know what it is. Mother has taken possession of it. You, of course, have the right of it."

Well, if Vere can concede a little, she can too. Robin lets her point slide. Besides, who knows? It seems that everywhere she steps these days, she's suddenly hip-deep in cousins, and my, weren't there a lot of strange faces at the Memorial.

The mention of Ysabeau brings Robin's thoughts circling back around. "Yay." She says in a wry tone as she lifts her shoulders in a sigh. "Selling point number two. Oh, Vere." The Ranger's green eyes turn up to Him. "There's only two things that could drag me back to that place. My father's orders and you." For a moment, Robin lets herself fall into his eyes once more.

Before shaking out of it. Horrific consequences, right? "So, okay. We'll deal with this whole 'Ysabeau's daughter' thing as it comes up. But I don't like it." Robin's lips turn down into quite a pout.

"I know," Vere answers. He sits at the foot of one of the trees, resting his back against it and drawing Robin down to his side. "The war is more complicated than I thought it would be. It has become a war not of rebellion, but of religion, each side convinced they are in the right. And I fear that it may be the case that the Chancellor believes she truly serves the will of the Goddess. Mother tells me that Vianis told her that the Goddess came to her in a dream, and spoke to her of what should be." Vere gazes off into the distance. "I wonder who might really have been the one to do this, to turn a loyal adviser against her mistress...."

Robin curls against Vere's side, fitting into his shape like a puzzle coming together. She rests her head on his shoulder, listening to the slow easy movement of air in his breath and the beautiful weaving of his thoughts into words. A soft croon of sympathy escapes her at the sound of his troubles.

"You thinking of taking a crack at this dream-weaving Goddess?"

"Assuming there is such a person. I may just be spinning a fantasy." Vere smiles wryly. "I do that, you know. I over-think and over-analyze, weaving more and more elaborate possibilities, delaying action while accumulating more and more data, until suddenly it is too late to act at all. It seems reasonable to me that the Chancellor, a woman with sorcerous abilities of her own and extremely well-developed good sense, would not suddenly start believing in her dreams without good reason. And when I consider that this may mean that someone is strong enough to sway her to turn against her oaths..." The smile fades. "Well, I circle around to three possibilities. Four, if we accept that one possibility is that there is no such being, and I am completely mistaken. But leaving that aside, the three possibilities I see are that the Goddess who spoke to the Chancellor is different, but somehow related to, the Goddess that my mother serves. In the same way that Adonis' mother is different to her sisters. The second possibility is that she is a Lord of Chaos. And the final possibility is that she is Family."

"I like your analyses, Vere." Robin smiles up at him. "They're pretty."

"But yeah, paralysis is a bad thing. Hmmmm." Robin considers. "It seem to me that the first step is the same in all four scenarios. Snag Vianis and make her sing, non? Developing contingency plans for comes happens after that is a great exercise. And I'm sure it's one our more successful Aunts and Uncles indulge in all the time. But to avoid the paralysis," Robin's voice sings of 'been there, done that', "we've got to do something. Snagging Vianis gets my vote. But, of course, it's up to you."

"Mother and Avis have been fighting a cautious war so far." There is only a slight note of frustration in Vere's voice. "I see the logic of it, what point is there in destroying the Isles to save them? And the two sides are too closely matched for a head-on confrontation to be quickly decisive. And now it appears the Chancellor has additional allies, men from the Land of the Valiant. Wherever that may be."

"Dunno. But you might ask Prince Bleys. He's always pulling armies out of his ass. He might either know of the place or have bred it up hisself."

The flat lines of her lips indicate that Robin, herself, certainly isn't going to ask Unkie Bleys anything.

Vere hugs her close and sits quietly for a while, content for the moment just that the two of them are together.

With a happy sigh, Robin nuzzles Vere's neck and settles herself in more comfortably. The girl's eyes wander off into the green around them, seeing nothing more than dappling shades and moving colors. Hearing nothing more the soft hush of the breeze, the even flow of Vere's breath. The creak of the trees, the steady beat of his heart. The scent of pine and loam, of salt water and clean man.

With the ease of the wild, Robin lets thought and words and plans drop away from her until there is only herself and Him, the world and their love.

They sit silently like that for a long time, without words, content in each other's company and the bliss of the moment. Finally, as the light fades away and night birds begin to sing, he stirs and whispers, "We should go, my love. My mother's only way to contact me is through Father's trump, and I want to be ready to leave when she calls."

Robin drifts back, sighs and another pout crosses her face. But it's one she quickly shakes away. "Okay."

She grins up at him and snatches a quick kiss. Then stands, stretching.

He watches her with a matching smile, then gracefully rises to his feet. As he takes her hand he says, "I am heading to the castle to seek Father. I know your dislike of the building, do not feel that you must come inside with me."

"Guess I haven't been too subtle about that." Robin snorts ironically. "Buuuutt, I've been outed. There's things I'm going to have to deal with. That... place is one of them.

"But it truly is better when you're beside me, Vere. It really is." She squeezes his hand and leans her head on his shoulder.

He returns the hand squeeze, and rests his cheek on her head for a moment. Then, with another squeeze, he begins to lead her away from the grove, and toward the lights of the castle.

"Have you met Princess Celina yet?" he asks her. "She is the daughter of King Corwin and Queen Moire. And yet, for all that, I think you would like her. She was raised without knowledge of her true parentage."

"Corwin and Moire, huhn? Poor bastard." Robin croons sympathetically. "How is she holding up?"

"I was with her when she learned the truth of her heritage," Vere says. "Moire sent a letter to Corwin with her, he did not know himself of her existence until then. He read it, and then immediately told her what Moire had said, in front of his son Merlin, Jerod, myself, and his chief advisor. It was very hard for her. She seems to have grown attached to her half-brother since then, they travelled together her to Amber."

"Damn that man!" Robin face curls and she spits to the side. "Shit! Poor girl." Fury and sympathy fight back and forth across Robin's expression. With sympathy finally winning out.

"Has she gotten to do any recoup with Folly yet?" Robin's green eyes are swimming with concern.

Vere makes a soft sound of frustration, "I do not know. I hoped to see Folly here - I cannot imagine that she would miss the Memorial if she could help it. I have not seen her since before I left for Paris. I assume that if anything had happened to her it would have become general knowledge, and I cannot imagine Prince Martin not tearing the universe apart looking for her if she were lost."

"You're right on that one." Robin chuckles. Just like she'd tear the universe apart if it were Vere. "What about Solange? I mean, it's great if this Celina is bonding with Merlin. I wish her a whole lot more luck than I had with my brother. But Merlin ain't exactly a native guide."

A cock of Robin's head reveals another quick thought. "He'd be great for the twins though...."

"I am not selfless enough to distract Solange from the task of finding a way to heal Father's legs," Vere says with a sigh. "He is not improving, rather, he is losing ground. And I must continue Mother's war, and cannot focus on Father's health. It is most..." he grimaces, "...annoying," he concludes.

"Losing ground? Oh, Vere." Robin looses her words again. Sorrowful clucks and croons warble in her throat as she gathers Vere to her. All the words they've shared, the plans, the explanations... she'd give her soul to be able to solve his problems, whisk his troubles away. But she can't.

Instead all she can do is tell through the strength of her clinch and the fire of her heart that He is the best, the brightest and the most capable son ever. And she knows that he will succeed. No matter how 'annoying' it seems now.

Vere returns the hug, strongly and fiercely. Then he gently takes her by the shoulders and moves her away just far enough so he can look down on her face. "We will do what we can," he says. "And Father is a stubborn man. And so am I."

"Too right. I'm... coming to believe that I'm not as stubborn as I thought I was." Robin frowns slightly and looks away. When her eyes come back to Vere's, there's an odd mix of sincerity and mischievousness there. "But I am scary. Let me know how and when you want me to bring that to bear, my love, and I'm there."

Vere laughs with delight. "You are terrifying, my love," he assures her, "And I treasure it." His laughter turns into a smile with a touch of wicked humor in it, "I should dearly love to capture the Spider, hellride her to a shadow where she cannot use her magic, and turn her over to you for a conversation about her dreams...."

"Oo! Oo! Wouldn't that be wonderful!" Robin's eyes sparkle and she hops slightly with a happy clap.

Then her eyes wonder off and narrow in thought. "That'd take some precision flying... and split-second timing... Vere? Let's keep that thought in the quiver, sweetie. Because it might actually be workable." Robin's grin develops a lot of teeth and her wink is pure evil glee.

"The Osprey and the Hawk, my love. When we fly together, let the prey beware."

"Eeeeee." The sound is somewhere between a hawk's call and a girl squeal. "You say the sweetest things!"

And Vere is pounced upon for a fierce hug and kiss.


Solange gazes at Vere standing tall near Robin as Random memorializes. She's relieved that he'll be there to take care of Robin during this difficult time in her life, for her own relationship with her half-sister isn't close enough that she could assume such a role herself.

She returns her gaze to Random, but despite her attempts to focus on what he's saying, her recent conversation with her brother instead replays itself in her mind and overshadows the events in front of her. It's not until the people around her start to move that she realizes the memorial is over.

She turns toward Hannah, her expression troubled. "I'd like to talk to you after all this, if you're free," she says in a low voice not meant to carry. "Can you catch up with me later? I'll be in my room here in Amber."

Hannah nods, looking at Solange like she's slightly concerned about her. "I can, and I will."

After talking to Hannah, Solange turns to Gerard and rests a hand on his shoulder. "Father, I'm going back to the castle now. Would you like me to trump you when I get there?"

"Please. I see your brother is going to be occupied," he says, with a thumb toward where Robin and Vere are hastily evacuating the area.

She smiles wryly in reply.

Solange turns away and starts back along the way she came. She's not interested in carrying on any conversations and will avoid walking with anyone for precisely that reason.

She makes it down to the castle without incident, and the gate guards greet her as she enters the works. Unlike the day of Adonis' death, they are calm and at ease: aware of the possibility of trouble, but not anticipating its immediate presence.

Solange nods to them as she passes and enters the castle proper. She makes her way directly to her father's study, shuts the door behind her to gain some privacy, then with steely resolve pulls out the trump of Gerard and initiates a contact.

Gerard answers at once. He's still on the hill, talking to Vialle.

"Father, I'm back in the castle," she announces, holding out her hand to him.

There's hint of determination behind her calm demeanor that comes through the contact, like a storm hovering just at the horizon.

Bringing through a man who steps forward into a contact is easy. Transporting someone in a wheelchair is, she is reminded, somewhat more difficult.

Solange brings Gerard through the contact and drops it. She gives him a few seconds to adjust while she puts away his trump, then turns to face him.

"Why do you think you're dying?" she asks without preamble.

"Who told ye that?" Gerard sounds indignant.

Solange folds her arms across her chest. "Vere did. His mother told him. So you're not denying it?"

Gerard folds his arms across his chest in a gesture that mirrors Solange's. "I'm nae confirming such a thing either. It's na sae simple as all that, Solange. There's been nae improvement in my legs, and I take too much morphine for the pain, I know, but I'm not on my deathbed yet."

Solange's shoulders visibly relax.

"But I do worry that there's no clear course for my treatment. There's no good sign for it. And now your brother has sworn this fool oath of his that's keeping him from his wedding, and we have to have a cure that will hold across shadow to release him from it."

"Why do _you_ think you haven't healed?" Solange asks, sidestepping the issue of Vere's oath for the moment. "Do you suppose there's some metaphysical component we're overlooking? Is it because the damage is just too extensive for even your recuperative abilities? Is it a combination of the above, or something else entirely? You're the one that lives in your skin. What do _you_ think?"

"I don't know why I'm not healing." Gerard sounds annoyed. "Were I not what I am, I'd have died before ever you and Vere fought your way down to me--ye know I speak true, though ye mislike hearing it. And aye, we know we can grow back fingertips and earlobes, and a tattoo of a doxy's name fades soon enough, but we know so little about what we really can do. I don't know of one of us who's recovered from such an injury. Corwin's eyes notwithstanding," he adds firmly.

Solange relents a little, dropping her arms and repositioning herself so her hip is resting against Gerard's desk. "I'm sorry. I just...I wanted to make sure you hadn't given up." She gives him a grim smile. "'Cause if you do, I'm going to have to come kick your butt. You may be more stubborn than me, but I guarantee you're not more stubborn than me and Vere together. And I'm sure you can add Hannah in there, too. We're all in this together."

She passes a hand over her face, considering things, then looks back up at him. "Father, I want to talk to you about what I found in shadow. I want to talk about where to go from here and formulate a plan, although that conversation should have Vere and Hannah present. I want..." She pauses and sighs deeply. "Father, I want to see you walk again. Nothing much has changed in five years, but I want the next years to be different--come up with a plan, try things, cross them off if they don't work and move on until something DOES work. I think we've been mostly reactive so far, and instead I want to be proactive."

Solange pushes herself off the desk and reaches out to Gerard to take his hand in her own. "That's a lot of 'I wants'. What do you want, Father? Do you want the same things?"

"I want to walk again, aye. And I want Vere to marry his Robin. But I'm tired, Solange. Every day is a fight, and some worse than others. I hate depending on drugs that make me ill to be well enough to go about my day. And I hate this blasted chair that catches on things and that doesn't let me reach up to the top shelf." He slaps the side of his wheelchair as he speaks.

"That's what Vere's mother sees. How tired I am. Gods aren't supposed to get tired, and I suppose it frightens her."

Solange studies Gerard for a moment, assessing the truth in his words. Is it just tiredness that Vere's mother saw? Or did she see something else, and Gerard's not owning up to it?

"Then we need to be more proactive," Solange continues as she squeezes his hand and lets it drop. "I suggest we get together and plan where to go from here. We can discuss what you want to try and what you absolutely don't want to try, set priorities, and figure out where we need to do more research or need more information."

She pauses to gauge her father's reaction.

Before Gerard can say anything, there's a rattling of the door-handle.


As Vere and Robin approach the castle he stops for a moment, and turns to her. "I shall go to speak to Father now," he tells her. "Will you come with me? I do not know that I will have a chance to speak to you again, and I would have every moment with you that I can." He gazes into her eyes. "There is nothing I would say to Father, or he would say to me, that you cannot hear, heart of my heart."

Robin has tears of joy sparkling in her eyes as she nods, losing her words. With all her heart she wants to stand by him as he stood by her. But also strong in her mind is the Ranger's credo of privacy - she never, never wants to crowd her man. Vere's answer to her growing dilemma is that same easy elegance that touches everything he is.

And she must admit, she doesn't want to be apart either. Yet or ever.

Together the two of them enter the castle and make their way to Gerard's chambers.

Robin shudders slightly as they enter the great looming teetering pile of stones, but with her hand in Vere's and concentrating on him... it's not so bad. As they walk, Vere can notice that Robin obviously does not know the way. Furthermore, a couple of times she becomes disoriented and looks around in confusion.

With a rueful snort, she just walks with Vere, shaking her head at herself.

When they arrive at the door of Gerard's chamber, they can hear Solange and Gerard speaking within. The discussion sounds a bit heated.

Vere pauses and listens for a moment, one hand on the handle of the door, with his head cocked to one side.

As Robin's eyes wander around the hallway, it's patently obvious that she can't hear anything, an innate social skill for one raised in a culture of canvas walls and campfires.

Through the stout door, Vere can't make out much, but he does catch Gerard saying his own name and Robin's.

Having a strong belief that it's wrong to eavesdrop where you might be caught at it when you cannot hear anything anyway, Vere opens the door and walks in, gesturing for Robin to follow.

Woof. Well, too late to be nervous about this now. Time to jump off the cliff already, Robin thinks to herself. Besides, Solange was family at that breakfast so long ago and Gerard hugged her at the Masquerade. Out of the paternal camps indeed. Robin smiles to Vere as she passes him.


Brita turns to Ambrose, Conner, and Fiona and says, "Don't leave yet. I have something to do, but I'd like to talk on the way back."

She then turns and approaches Julian. She murmurs something briefly to him and, after a moment, he nods with a gesture towards the cairn.

Brita bows in return and thanks her uncle. She then makes her way over to the cairn and kneels down. She breaths in deeply three times, centering herself before placing a single bare hand on the ground beside the large base rock.

To the others, she looks like she is simply resting on the ground, head bowed. Mentally, she sends her Power into the mountain, searching for the Pure Source she Knows is there. When she finds it, she guides it, searching through the ground for the small path that leads to the memorial cairn.

After a little over five minutes, pure, sparkling water begins to bubble forth from beneath the front of the cairn. Initially, it pools slightly in the Shadow of the memorial, unsure of its new position in the Light. Then, with a little nudge, it begins its new joyous decent across the small clearing and into the woods - finding its New Way, bringing New Life to the area around it.

Brita withdraws her hand slowly from the ground. She sways slightly and her eyes blink open as if she has been in a deep sleep. She rises, forcing a steadiness onto her motions as she bows again to Julian - not as deep this time as she is unsure of her ability to stay upright....


Paige approaches her aunt as the memorial begins to break up. "Aunt, these are my children, Brooke and Leif."

"Children, this is your Great-aunt Fiona," she introduces.

Fiona inspects the children, but doesn't seem surprised at their sudden increase in age, from birth to adolescence. "Brooke, Leif," she says.

The children look at Fiona like they are very small rodents and she is a very big predator. Not terrified, but certainly wary.

"I was hoping that, if you have time, you might have suggestions to help shore up the basics that I'm trying to give the twins. They're keen to embrace their Arcadian legacy, but I want them to have a firm grip on their Order heritage before," _doing something stupid_ "making any important decisions".

A slight smile curves Fiona's lips as she turns her attention from the children back to Paige. "Your children have turned out to be handfuls? I'm sure your father never would have expected that, Paige." She takes a step toward the children, who stand their ground, but nervously, like deer that might flee at a moment's notice.

Paige's first smile of the day is wry, but appreciated.

"What sort of basics do you have in mind to teach them? They're not mature enough for initiation yet as far as I can tell," Fiona continues.

"That's my concern," Paige explains. "They've some of their father's ability to share the forms of nature, I believe and are concerned that seeking their Order heritage will deprive them of those gifts.

"But it's Order that is the strongest defense against their great-grandmother, and I would be remiss if they had to face her in Arcadia without it's support," she continues.

"Unless you've heard of plans that would let them seek an Arcadia without that concern?"

The petite sorceress shakes her head in the negative. "I am not privy to Julian's plans on the matter. Your father isn't going out there to handle it, and as far as I know Corwin isn't either. Bleys says he thinks he's needed in Amber and I can't imagine Corwin interfering without Julian's direct invitation."

Paige nods in understanding, but doesn't seem pleased. Her hand has nervously slipped to rest on the carved hilt at her waist once again.

Fiona looks at the two children again, examining them. "You should speak to your cousin Merlin," she tells them. "He may be able to help you. He has mastered both the ability to change forms and the powers of Order. It was necessary for him to avoid being consumed by his ancestor." She smiles at them, and they look down.

"The very same as I originally suggested," Paige agrees. She scans the slope for Merlin.

Merlin, Corwin, Celina and Hannah are all talking nearby.

"We're hoping to return soon to Xanadu," she explained to Fiona.

"I know that Father's confident that Kolvir's safe enough for the moment, but I'll be happier away from here." If her eyes cast a concerned look at the dragon perched on the ridge, it's quick and unaccompanied by comment.

"Have you heard if any are planning on the sea route anytime soon?" she asks. "I was hoping to move some of my possessions."

"I know of none, but I am not the first to whom all my siblings and their children divulge their plans. I suspect you will have to lead any ships there yourself. It should be easier and faster than trying to sail into Amber would be now," Fiona opines.

"And I did more than enough of just that over the Regency that Xanadu should a cake walk, and though I don't like the idea of hellsailing, getting out of the environs quickly and across water instead of the common land routes," _near Arcadia_ "Is a wonderful idea.

"Opal Hardwind has a ship for my use, I beleive," she comments. "In fact, Grant may have already begun boarding some of the household belongings that could survive the hold.

"I'll have to invite my cousins," Paige decides. "Have you or Father decided where to next from here?"

"Your father is staying. I have a number of options, but haven't decided which appeals to me most yet." Fiona looks over at Brita and Conner. "I'll want to see Brita recovered and speak with both her and Conner before I make any plans." She waves at the two of them.

Paige gathers the children to her. "Well, perhaps I'll speak with Merle and see what his and Celina's plans are," she offers in farewell to her Aunt. "If we don't see you before then, be safe."

She wanders over to her cousins and Uncle, trying to join them without intruding.


[Brita] turns back to her Mother, Brother, and Cousin with a small smile. "Ok. we can go now."

Fiona appears to be in conversation with Paige and her children and Ambrose has moved away to speak to Random.

Conner greets Brita with a wide smile. "That was incredible Brita. I always knew you were a goddess of the waters back in Asgard but I had no idea you could do that even here." Conner sounds truly impressed. He slides over and gives her a sideways one armed hug that coindently supports her if she choose to lean. "That was a fine gift. Two fine gifts. Though I somehow doubt Valhalla would be his idea of heaven." Conner observes dryly.

Brita snorts in agreement as she accepts the supporting hug by sliding her arm back around Conner. "Thank you, Brother. I was actually not quite sure it would work; I know it would not work in Reality Xanadu. I truly am a bit surprised Cousin Adonis did not Strike me on suggesting He holds a place of Honor in Valhalla's Hall of Warriors, but I think perhaps Cousin Daeon may have stayed His hand; He seemed a Warrior True at the End."

"Perhaps the part of him that fought against Chaos would appreciate the honor at any rate." Conner allows.

"Have you found Friends that remain in Amber?" she asks as she notes that Fiona is involved with Paige and the twins and Ambrose has wandered off towards Random. "We can talk on the way to the Castle if you'd like."

Conner nods as their steps head towards the castle. "I have indeed met with the ring wearer. He is of course convinced that this is all a horrible misunderstanding in which he is blameless. After all, how could it possibly be his fault if an overzealous subordinate misunderstood his words?" Conner shrugs. "He would have my great sympathy were it not interfering with my life."

"He is not Sane. Otherwise, he would know better to interfere in the Life of one of Mother's Children." Brita sighs. "I am glad you were able to at least get that much out of him. My head was spinning after only a few moments in his presence. Do you think he truly was acting alone? Or, not quite alone," she corrects herself, "with this Spirit of his? Is there a way to recall the Spirit or at least ensure it is no longer a threat?" Brita glances back toward the memorial site, noting the placement of family members making their way back to the castle and ensuring Vere is no where near by. Her voice drops, "And which of our Uncles do you think consorted with this spirit-guide?"

"He was Bleys's man." Conner replies in a matching tone. "Whether he still is or not?" Conner shrugs. "Right now he so fears retribution from the Djinn that getting anything out of him is like pulling teeth. I think it is all in his mind. Nothing the Dey of Longtides told me indicated anything but a resolve never to enter such a bargain again. We should discuss this with Mother I suppose." Conner muses. "We have enough vengeful spirits about after all."

Brita nods in agreement. "So, do you think we will be able to clear your Name for good with what he can give us?"

"Hard to say." Conner shrugs. "It will be enough for the King to act on but I doubt it will really convince anyone who thinks otherwise. Unless we can arrange for a Djinn to testify of course." Conner grins.

"What will you be doing now?" Brita asks.

Fiona looks over at them from her discussion with Paige and waves.

Whatever Conner was going to say got replaced by a diplomat's chuckle. "Speaking to Mother it would seem."

Brita waves back and the two proceed to meet up with Fiona along the path. "Mother," Brita says, "were you able to help Cousin Paige and the godlings?"

"Some, perhaps. The children are too young for initiation, which is their best hope. I have referred them to Merlin in the hopes that he can convince them they'll be able to change shape even after they take the Pattern." Fiona shrugs slightly. "I understand why Bleys and Corwin don't want to involve themselves in Arden right now, but eventually we'll need something like their blades to deal with the children's ancestor."

"What is 'Too Young', Mother? How do you Know?" Brita asks staring after the twins as if trying to discern the aura of 'too young' around them.

"They're not physically mature, for one thing. Mother forced them to birth early, and their paternal great-grandmother appears to have forced them to puberty, but they're not old enough to survive the stresses of a Patternwalk. And they're not mentally well-formed yet either. They can't be, given their age," Fiona explains.

Conner nods at that. "They barely look comfortable in their own bodies now nevermind under the stresses of a Patternwalk." Conner opines. "If they take after their father, they will not be content to wait in safety under a Pattern's influence. I do not envy Paige her worry." Conner sighs.

[Brita]
"They do not know any differnt. To them, the changes are normal."

[Fiona] looks at the twins for a moment, then turns back to Brita. "The spring was a nice touch. Julian will appreciate it."

Brita smiles at the compliment. "Thank you, Mother. I just thought Cousin Adonis needed something of Growth and Life for his Memorial, not just a Pile of Rocks."

"The memorial will keep growing for some time, even without the fountain. The Rangers will come and add to it over time. It is their custom when friends are absent from the funeral." And Brita does recall that some of the Ranger cairns did grow over time, although none very drastically. Now, with so many Rangers returned, those cairns might well have doubled or tripled in size.

As he has already praised Brita's work, Conner returns to a point that intrigued him. "You mentioned needing 'something like' my Uncle's blades to deal with the threat in Arden. I've always assumed their blades to be unique in the cosmos which is an intruging enough thought on its own but you imply there are other items or powers as potent as their blades. Were you speaking hypothetically or are such things known?" Conner inquires. Unconsicously, he stands with his hands folded over his waist as he did during his lessons as a child.

Brita listens attentively.

Fiona glances at Bleys, who has headed off down the mountainside in the twilight. "Your uncle knows more of these matters than anyone." It annoys his mother that she has to cede expertise in anything to anyone, so Conner knows Bleys' knowledge must greatly exceed hers.

She turns back to Conner and Brita and continues, "He's wielded that blade for centuries, since our father took it from Caine and gave it to him, and he's close-mouthed about it. But ask him about Weyland the smith and see what that will get you."

"Either a fascinating story or an evasive and cryptic reply I feel sure." Conner smiles at his mother. "Perhaps now I shall ask a question more to your liking. Brita and I have discovered the possibility that there is a Djinn or similar spirit from the Land of Peace here in Amber." Conner reaches into a pocket and holds forth the ring he got from Chi-lin. "It seems that Chi-lin brought a friend with him. A few words spoken in haste caused said spirit to go forth and drown someone Chi-lin feared." The wry tone in his voice should give no doubt as to whom Conner refers. "Thise act was apparently one of the terms that would grant the spirit release and Chi-lin argued the point. He is now convinced the spirit will take revenge. The story told to me by the Dey of Longtides would not seem to bear this conclusion out, but we would be sure such a creature is not wandering around free to cause further havoc. We wanted to ask your advice in the matter."

Brita is watching Bleys wander off, but she is obviously listening studiously to the conversation at hand.

Bleys halts suddenly and his attention is elsewhere in that manner characteristic of those suddenly contacted by Trump.

The bulk of Fiona's attention is centered on Conner and his dilemma. "Merlin and I investigated Paige's rooms and looked for all sorts of magical and astral influences. We saw nothing that indicated a djinn or any other such spirit had been within those walls. As you know, the castle's wards are damaged, and that renders any protection from magic uncertain, but I don't believe any such spirit is dawdling waiting for Chi-Lin. Will the confession you got be enough to satisfy the Rebmans?" she asks.

"Highly unlikely." Conner replies with a shrug. "Especially if the Rebmans discover it was I that obtained the confession."

Brita cringes a bit and mouths 'Sorry' at her Brother.

"Still, I don't have anything better at the moment so the truth will have to do." Conner chuckles. "I have for his Majesty the original copy and an annotated version that outlines the two or three pieces of actual facts among the flattery. Chi-lin is really quite inventive when sucking up to someone. Perhaps Random could use him as a lyricist." Conner idly notes that it was becoming natural to refer to his Majesty and Random as seperate people.

"Regardless, I think I have done all I care to there." Conner states. "Diplomaticly and emotionally, I suspect the Rebmans are unreachable. And I am not in the mood for a private war right now. So it seems I must decide what I am in the mood for. Where are you heading after this Mother? For my part, I am torn between returning to Gateway and resuming the investigation of the magic there and seeing more of Xanadu."

Brita's ears perk up the mention of returning to Gateway.

Fiona frowns slightly, and a thoughtful crease mars her perfect brow. "I haven't decided yet. A look at my youngest brother's new masterpiece is in order, certainly, but beyond that I don't know. Both of you may need me, and Paige has concerns--warranted by the situation--about her children. Sometime soon I will want to test some of your lessons, Brita." She smiles at her daughter.

And Brita rolls her eyes a little at the word 'test', but she smiles just the same.

"Gateway might be a good option for you, Conner. So might finding out what Bleys has to say about the smith and the blades we spoke of earlier. A brief stop in Xanadu wouldn't preclude either of those. Sleep on it, and we'll break our fast tomorrow. You can tell me of your decision then."

"Breakfast is a certainty." Conner smiles and leans in to kiss his mother on the cheek. "If there isn't a decision I am sure there will be much else to talk about. Until the morrow then." With that, Conner heads back to the Castle.


Back to the logs

Last modified: 30 September 2005