Scoped Out


Llewella lets go of Robin's hand after the trump drops. She pulls a bottle out of a bucket on the floor. It's not iced, but it seems cold. She offers it to Robin.

Robin looks at it for a moment and decides to behave like an adult. "Thank you." She takes a drink.

"Your home is lovely, Aunt Llewella. And I am very, very grateful for your hospitality. I did not mean to be disrespectful. I just... really don't like being soaked. And," she adds with a rueful laugh, "am young enough and tired enough to make sure everyone knows it... my apologies."

"It's technically Celina's hospitality. She's in Paris right now, though I expect her to return soon on my Trump. She left me in charge, though, so I accept your thanks on her behalf. And I'm glad you brought the seahorse through to us, because they don't do very well on land." Llewella smiles wryly. "I do understand, though, because I always feel like my skin is sandpaper after too long ashore. Different strokes and all that."

Robin nods sympathetically, feeling desiccated in air makes sense if one is aquatic. She's just got... all her feathers weighed down right now.

"I do think you should stay until Celina returns, if only to give her all your news. I don't think it will be very long; she left for Paris by Trump and wasn't expected to stay even so long as overnight."

If she noticed anything else in the conversation that she wasn't supposed to, and she must have, Llewella is politely not noticing that she noticed it.

Robin nods again, "Of course, we will stay -- barring emergencies. After all, Queen Celina is whom I was hoping to bring them to."

Not noticing is a Ranger skill too. After all, tent walls...

"Iiiiii suppose I should get back out into the wet and reassure Sir Ophiuchus that his Liege is well." Robin decides to leave it there. 'And safe,' doesn't seem right.

Llewella nods her permission. "Go ahead. The dry rooms aren't equipped for sleeping, but I'll make sure you have access while you're here. You're not the first person to wish they were bedrooms even if most of the family doesn't admit it." She adds after a moment, "Of course I'll let you know as soon as I hear from Celina about the time and date of her return. I can always Trump Corwin if it becomes urgent. Otherwise, you and Sir Ophiuchius are free to enjoy the hospitality of the palace." She pronounces the knight's name perfectly.

"Thank you." Robin says with sincerity and a slight bow. She adds a sigh as she re-dons her wet accoutrements. With a little apologetic wave for the mud spatters and whatevers she leaves in her wake, Robin exits the dry room and traces her way back toward the balcony table. For all that it is wet, at least Rebma is easier to navigate through than Amber Castle.

Llewella politely lets her go, giving her directions back to where they left Sir Ophiuchius, which happens to be in her suite.

When Robin arrives, Sir Ophiuchius has been fed and watered in the Rebman style, with which he seems comfortable. He rises to greet her. "Well met, Sir Robin. The Princess Llewella has provided a small feast for me. Will you share it and give me whatever news you have?" he asks hopefully.

Unlike Robin, he's pretty happy to be in Rebma. It's similar enough to his native environment for comfort.

"Of course!" Robin says happily. After all, she's never been one to turn down a meal. Also, it cheers her somewhat to see Ophiuchius comfortable, given the turmoil she's brought into his life.

Robin drops into a chair with only a little bobble-float, and helps herself to whatever red meat she can find.

"I spoke to Vere. He and the others are well. He said they had a little adventure along the way, but I don't think he means the same thing as I do by 'little adventure.'" Robin says reassuringly. For herself, a 'little adventure' means flesh wounds only. For Vere, it probably means something more like 'an interesting conundrum.'

"Lady Morgne, Lady Laudine and Sir Ywain are all at Amber Castle enjoying the hospitality of the Regent there, my Uncle Caine." No editorializing, she tells herself firmly. "Prince Caine sent Vere onward to Xanadu to speak to King Random and to perform a... small adventure for him." Robin's eyes narrow briefly. That 'small adventure' has too much potential to become 'a great deal of fun' for her taste.

"It should only take a day and then Vere will be headed back to Amber and will contact us when he gets there. In the meantime, Princess Llewella has granted us guest rights here in Rebma while we wait for Queen Celina to return. It seems that her Majesty is currently in Paris closeted with King Corwin on something that I have no knowledge about. But Llewella expects her to return sometime today.

"Soooo, you and I are on our own for a while. And, unless you have any better ideas, I was thinking to go back to the stables and poke around some..." Robin shrugs casually. But there's a gleam in her eye that says 'Seahorses!'

There's not a lot of red meat since that's kind of a special treat and anyway probably not something an underwater dweller would ask for. But there is definitely more meat-textured fish or other seafood that Robin can eyeball and then eat.

Ophiuchius nods and otherwise signifies understanding--nodding not being the best gesture underwater always, depending on the currents--as Robin tells her tale. "If it pleases you to visit the stable once we've finished our repast, Sir Robin, I shall be glad to accompany you as we wait for Queen Celina." He hesitates, then asks outright, "Is this much travel between the realms usual for your family?"

"Weellll," Robin drawls as she thinks, "there didn't used to be this many realms. At least that we knew of. So historically, no. But as a Family, we're in a period of... turmoil right now. And I think that's made us band together more than usual. It's certainly proven that we need to keep in contact with and track one another better. So I think this much travel between realms is probably going to be the new normal for a while. Personally, I don't know how the King is managing it. But then, maybe that's why he's King." She finishes with a shrug.

"And yeah, stables. The other alternatives are messing with the Tritons or gallivanting around in Nedra, the local big bad forest, aaaannnnnddd I think both of those things would probably be frowned upon. Especially given my tendency toward, uh, large happenings. So I was thinking the stables would be safe. Unless you want to go shopping or visit a gallery or something..." Robin's brows furrow at that.

"I would not make trouble for my hosts, or for you, Sir Robin. If you prefer the stables, the stables it shall be. Besides," he adds with a wry smile, "I have no money to shop in the market, nor any idea what I shall need until I reunite with my lady. And I would be neither further in your debt nor in the debt of Rebma." He gestures to her to lead the way when she is ready, unless she wishes to say more.

So she does, with an odd bobble as she discovers how not to skip underwater.

Once at the stables, Robin is all eyes, but careful with her hands and presence around new critters. She definitely takes time out to see how Eckford is doing, but suspects that Ophiuchius will probably have more to say and do with his old friend than she. Other than that, she is mostly just curiosity personified - and not just about the seahorses. Are there the equivalent of 'barn cats' there? Rats? Flies or wasps? The ecology of an underwater is as interesting to her as the magnificent creatures themselves. And if anyone offers to tour-guide or answers questions, Robin will pepper them.

There are young stable-hands, which is to say young Rebmans, of both sexes (though it's easy to see that the girls are more serious about the managerial aspects of stabling and the boys are mostly grunt labor) who handle the various steeds and care for them. When Robin's interest becomes apparent, they send for a more senior groom; she discusses the various creatures of the stable, shows Robin what the various steeds eat (not all of them are herbivores), and even lets her help with some of the mounts if desired, all while Ophiuchius tends to Eckford.

After some time has passed, a page brings the news to Robin that Queen Celina has returned and her presence is requested at the castle to meet with Celina and Llewella. (Sir Ophiuchius is not invited, though he may get an escort back to his rooms if he'd like one.)

Robin looks down from the 'rafter' she was perched on to examine the nest of small fish that form a key element in the parasite removal portion of the stable management. At the news, Robin jumps off the rafter and then remembers that she has to swim to get the ground. Ah well.

Nodding her thanks to the page, Robin makes sure that Sir Ophiuchius is good with everything. And then stops in her tracks; Rebma, a formal court, stable detritus... With a rueful smile, she asks the page if they can swing by a cleaning-up place on the way to the Queen.

And off she goes.


Celina reluctantly bids goodbye to friendly faces in Paris. She must return where she is needed most, then she is concentrating on the Trump portrait of Llewella.

"A bit longer than I expected," says Celina to the image as it fills her senses. "When you are ready, I'm returning."

"I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to call Corwin to come get you."

Llewella brings Celina through into one of the working chambers of the castle. Once Celina has had a chance to catch her breath and readjust to the waters, she reports on all that has happened since Celina left. "And last but not least," she finishes after describing the mundane business of Rebma, "Robin has arrived with a foreign knight called Ophiuchius, who has a seahorse named Eckford. She and Vere were travelling together but were separated. He's in Xanadu now, and we've contacted him to make sure everyone else is well; they are.

"But the story is strange and you probably want to hear it yourself."

"Yes," Celina agreed easily. "I am all about the strange. Let's hear the tale in detail." And she follows her aunt through the winding palace to greet Lady Robin.

Along the way, Celina shares the news from Paris, and the notion that Moire may be nearby Paris in Avalon.

"That could be bad, if she has a route into the city. Do you have specific plans already prepared against her, or are you asking for my advice?" Llewella is forthright in her question.

"I'm more concerned about her sneaking back than fighting her way back. My plan so far is that she does not get into the city unawares to our troops, and rally opposition from within. As such we have rearranged guard rotations, provided two watch officers to all the outer posts, and have both tritons and guard watching the path to Paris. I'm not aware of the path from Avalon to here, but it may go through the Kelp?" Celina adds, "Of course I would like your advice, as long as it is not killing her."

Celina follows Llewella up levels and realizes they are going to use the circular Blue Forest Tower Room. The ceiling has five lenses that bring sunlight down from the surface of the sea. The paper thin white jade clouds above the doorways move slowly on a clockwork track. The trees carved into the walls cast interesting shadows. All in all, a room Rebmans find disconcerting and a trifle warm on some days.

"I don't want to kill her; I just want to keep her from making things worse," Llewella replies, sounding perhaps less bothered than she ought to about the prospect of sororicide. But she is, after all, an Amberite on her father's side. "We believe the Faiella-Bionin extends through Down Town, where the Tritons are, and if she comes back via that route with any token that would command the Tritons while Conner is absent with the Paxblade, it could be very bad. So we need to plan some sort of defense around that."

They arrive at the Blue Forest Tower Room, where Robin should be waiting, or will soon arrive, depending on how quickly the page sent to summon her has moved.

Celina thinks for a moment, as they wait for Robin to arrive, "We could clear Down Town of the Tritons. The Hierophant would help us make it orderly. We could actually start a new neighborhood on the outskirts of the Nedra side of the city. Better infrastructure would not be a bad thing. Eventually, Huon could remake the Down Town section over the years." She looks at her aunt to see what she makes of such a project. "Which strangely reminds me I want to ask you what you think of mirror prophecy. Apparently Moire foresaw I was to die on returning to the city."

A quiet hiccup comes from the doorway where a surprised (and somewhat bewildered) page is standing beside a clean and presentable Robin, complete with three clean and presentable firelizards. While Robin is still very much a child of the wilds and was probably doing something very dirty a moment ago, now her hair floats in straight wisps in the Rebman currents, still twined through its various ornaments of beads, bones, feathers and sticks. Her trail attire and gear is straightened and clean, though comfortable through long and hard use.

Robin's gamine face is in formal presentation mode but her eyes are laughing and lively as they take in the Blue Forest Tower Room with obvious delight.

"Your Majesty." Robin bows. "Your highness." A head bow for Llewella. After that, Robin doesn't know what to do, so she waits for the court to tell her. Just like Castor taught her.

Llewella smiles at Robin by way of friendly greeting but leaves Celina, who is the Queen, to welcome Robin.

"Welcome to our shores, Robin. We understand you have a mystery tale to share. I hope that Vere has word you are well? Please make yourself at ease."

"Thank you, Majesty." Another small bow. "We are honored by and grateful for Rebma's welcome." Robin's 'we' includes the firelizards.

Robin steps into the room and lets her posture fall into something more natural, a kind of distracted-looking fidgeting that belies an active awareness of one's space.

"Yes, Princess Llewella was kind enough to facilitate a Trump contact with King Random. Vere was in his company so we..." blush "talked. He is well also and conveys his regards."

Robin hesitates. "My tale is rather long and involved, Majesty. Did you want the short version or the long trail?"

"I do not get to have adventures, Robin," Celina grins, "perhaps you can indulge me with the most interesting version."

Several expressions dart across Robin's face at that declaration. First skepticism, followed by sympathy, quick doubt is chased away with understanding as Robin draws herself into her best story telling mode. But a quick aside is indulged in first.

With an artful glance over to Llewella, Robin leans toward Celina and murmurs, "If you're ever in desperate need of adventure, Cousin, just call. And we'll go for a walk together. Even on a short walk in a safe place, something will get... adventurous if you are in my company.” Robin shrugs. It's her destiny. Or maybe her calling. Whichever.

"Aaannyway," she drawls, settling herself into story-telling mode, "I was off walking in the Deep Woods that border Arden, attracting trouble to keep it from disturbing my Father's war, when I came across two ancient guardposts. The first was called the Fountain of Bareton... or maybe Merlin's Font, maybe both." She shrugs, folk can name things whatever they want. "It was guarded by the remaining folk of a stronghold called Trécesson. There were only two of said folk left there, Lady Laudine of Lothian and her husband-by-contest, Sir Ywain. Sir Ywain was magically compelled to challenge whomever disturbed the Font, which is how we met." Robin smiles ironically, she's disturbing all right.

"The three of us had a pleasant dinner, wherein they mentioned that they were the last remainders on an ancient front between themselves and Lady Vivianne of the Fae at the Crystal Castle. Whom I gather had left after the birth of her son, Merlin. But that they were bound to their post by an ancient oath and a duty to protect the Ordered Realms of Avalon and Amber from the Fae. However, the Fae had not been particularly frisky for a long, long time.

"I'm not one for cages of any sort. So I decided to stick my hand in.

"While Sir Ywain was very reluctant to get anyone else caught in their trap, Lady Laudine suggested I might try talking to her counterpart under the Lake, Lady Morgne. So the next morning, I set off to get myself wet."

Celina asks a small question, "So these folk were not Fae, but very long lived?"

Robin tilts her head, her eyes unfocused, as she considers. "I didn't ask. I remember Lady Morgne -- the guardian of the Lake -- saying that Laudine and her kin were mortal so that the length of time bore down differently upon them then on herself... I don't think either side was expecting the eons and millennia to roll past them like that. Though the Fae were more at ease with it." She shakes her gaze back to Celina with a smile.

Llewella has heard this story before so she's just listening and letting Celina ask questions.

Celina gestures for Robin to continue.

Robin nods and carries on. "Getting wet involved a forest trail leading down into the Lake. I was warned to stay on the path once down in the water. That seemed reasonable." Robin shrugs. "The water was breathable like here but more... wild, as though we were higher in the mountains.

"After a number of switchbacks I came to another Fountain, this one of bubbles, called Merlin's Font as well..." Robin stops. "One of them was also named Methrin's Font to me, but I can't remember which one now.

"Anyway, I was disturbing and so I met Sir Ophiuchius. He was... well, don't get me wrong, Ywain is a great guy but he's more the rough and tumble type. Ophiuchius is a gentleman with a good head on his shoulders and willing to use it. He was under the same kind of compulsion to deal with disturbers as Ywain but we worked it out and went back to meet his Liege Lady, Lady Morgne."

"Their place, which I didn't catch the name of, was really nice and it was mentioned to me that Lady Morgne painted. But the ancestors she had painted weren't all human." Robin shrugs off-handedly, human, whatever.

"They were eager of news from the outside since their old court was gone and they couldn't get word to the Summerlands. I did fill them in somewhat, just as I had Lady Laudine and Sir Ywain. But my viewpoints..." Robin shrugs again.

"Lady Morgne was more informative than Lady Laudine because she didn't have to dance around Sir Ywain's feelings. She mentioned that King Mark and her grandmother the Queen had been warring off and on for forever, so her sister Basina came up with a sorcery to keep the two kingdoms apart enough to end that, but still hold the borders against other rambunctious types like the dragon-blooded forest children or the riders of the moon, or even worse -- the Queen of Air and Darkness.

"That sorcery involved blood oaths and compulsions for Lady Morgne and her champion as well as for Lady Laudine and her champion, the Fonts and probably some other stuff I wasn't picking up on. But what it did was create a knot.. in Shadow..." Robin pauses as she reaches for words. This is the third time she's told this story -- today! -- and she's still having trouble explaining her senses and perceptions in words.

"So the edges of two different shadow flavors were bound in a... hold that either would find unlikely to break alone," Celina raises an eyebrow in question.

"That's what I thought at first, too." Robin says. Her eyes drift a little as she struggles for a metaphor, before settling on the two very fashionable ladies in front of her. And she smiles.

"But it was more like a scarf." She frames out a flat horizontal area with her hands. "One Shadow with contentious people constantly marching across it to war on one another." Robin's fingers walk back and forth across the demonstrated area.

"What Basina’s working did was draw up the center of the Shadow," Robin demonstrates by reaching into the center of her imagined scarf, pinching it and pulling it slowly upward, "and tie it around itself." Robin's hands demonstrate a simple 'granny' knot. "Now, the contentious peoples on the edges of the Shadow can't reach one another to get frisky." She wiggles her fingers at the edges of the imagined space.

"I'm no sorcerer so I don't know how the Fonts, Oaths, compulsions and binding went into it. But the basic Shadow architecture was... pretty neat." She finishes with an excited and admiring grin.

"Oh," Celina nods, "the shadow was of a piece and the conflict within its boundaries. I understand now. Please go on."

Robin continues to relate her experiences and the violent but successful outcome.

Celina has less cause to interrupt, as Robin makes a vivid story of the freeing of the shadow knot and the loyal defenders. By the time Robin's narration is done, there are no further questions and when Robin asks to be excused to catch up some rest, Celina readily agrees and thanks Robin for the news.

Celina reviews it all again in her mind while she refreshes her drink and gets some finger food. She looks at Llewella, "This may not relate directly to Rebma, but it may be a gift to us. Such steadfast sacrifice in the cause of Order should be rewarded I think. What position might we offer to the Lady Morgne? And tell me what you find most fascinating about this adventure?"

"I don't know what I make of Robin's story yet other than it's another loosing of things Dad either bound or left bound for some reason. But I agree, I think we should do something for Lady Morgne. My concern is that it be done carefully so that we don't disrupt the networks of power and patronage too thoroughly. For her man, a position in one of the guard regiments, of course. For her--once we've met her and decided whether we can trust her or not, one of my thoughts was that we could set her to watching Huon for you." Llewella arches her eyebrows to see what Celina thinks of that option.

"Hmmmm." Celina eyes her Aunt for a bit. "What I think is that Huon is being watched by you and several others. But the idea has some merit. We talk to her. We get a feel for the situation. We offer her a position as reward for centuries of service to Order. Then we ask her to Evaluate Huon and his potentials. At the same time, we ask Huon to Evaluate her, since she is coming in from the cold waters. I'd eventually like to trust Huon more. Then we have a lot of things to talk about.

"The initial reward, Dame of Oaths, a position that gives her jurisdiction over Huon and other Loyal Networks we might arrange. We can let the Families learn about her as she learns about them. She probably knows some magic that might work here."

"Almost certainly. Possibly magic that your mother had suppressed," Llewella agrees. "Having the advantage of someone else who might have information about the ancient of days in Rebma and Amber is an advantage we should use. I like the title you propose, and the purpose. The more eyes we have on Huon, and frankly, on her, the better. I'll speak to Sir Ophiuchius and make the arrangements with whichever of my brothers I need to to facilitate her arrival, if that suits Your Majesty?"

"Yes, it suits very well," Celina nods once. "Let's welcome her privately but then arrange a courtly social event as a venue to welcome her to the city--- if she agrees to our wishes. She may prefer a quiet retirement from any duty to court."

Celina pauses and then goes on, "Who may we show our favor to by putting them in charge of such a sponsored social occasion? I know my Mother's Court has not been interested in gracious events. Is there an interesting Family we might pull closer to the throne? Not a shell, someone overlooked by Moire."

Llewella's answer is easy. "Perhaps one of the families who sent sons to serve with the Children of Lir, and whose men remained true to their oaths. We have those names from Vere, I think, and one of those families, or a consortium of them, could put on the event and benefit from the Royal favor. Loyalty should be rewarded, don't you think?"

Celina nods, "I like that. A consortium of three such families, based on seniority of founding, would be wonderful. Let's do that."

And the Queen adds, "We should do more social events. And art showings and music." She waits to see if Llewella offers something on the slight change in direction.

Llewella gives Celina a considered look. "Architecture first, I think. For proof of interest in the rebuilding of the city. Public art, like sculptures, can be a part of that. And the music can spring from it as well: celebratory music for the reconstruction, if you wish to sponsor compositions. I presume you want to impress the citizens with your care, and your power at the same time."

"Actually, I want them to feel cherished," Celina responds. "Architecture can certainly be our first focus."

"Cherished. What an interesting word." Llewella smiles, and it's clearly not meant condescendingly, because she adds, "A very different approach to the city than your mother's, to be certain. I'll draw up a plan for it. Do you think we should send Ophiuchius to meet Huon, to evaluate him now? I can arrange for that as well."

Celina puts herself in Robin's position. Gone to get some needed rest after heroic labors and missing her new friend when she returns. Celina raises a hand, "Let's invite Ophiuchius to school our pages on the proper diplomacy to receive Morgne, poetry and all, and when Robin returns, we can invite them both to visit Huon. Huon won't be bothered by it, but Robin does not think much of him and yet she is fair. I'd like to pay the respect to Huon of spreading word of his good behaviour back to Xanadu. Robin may also see something we don't."

"Consider it done." Llewella bows and makes ready to do as Celina has asked, unless the Queen has other questions or commands for her.


When Robin has awakened from her rest, there is a summons from Llewella for her. It is not clear from the summons whether Celina will be in attendance. She has the opportunity to put herself right and send any necessary messages before she attends on the Princess.

A night of sleep has done wonders for Robin (despite the occasional dream of drowning.) She rises early, refreshed, cheerful and full of energy.

Upon receiving the summons, Robin moves quickly but carefully to put herself fully in order. Her trail gear is clean, uncluttered and sitting well. Hair, face and hands are neat and tidy. Firelizards are buffed and oiled to a luxurious glow. While the girl is definitely still clinging to her 'savage' roots, the bones, beads and feathers in her hair are well-cared for and not accompanied (as is usual) by unplanned twigs or leaves.

As she and the firelizards step out into the hall, Robin falls into the subvocal chirping that she and Castor found has calms her breath, raises her spirits and centers her to deal with challenge situations -- like Family and underwater and stuff.

By the time she reaches Llewella's proposed meeting place, Robin is energetic, cheerful and confident. And somewhat proud of the fact that she can do that. At all.

Llewella welcomes Robin with fondness. "How did you find your rooms? Are you handling being underwater well enough? I know it's a difficult adjustment; the first few times I had to go to Amber, I drank ginger water by the gallon to keep my stomach sweet. I took the liberty of having some food brought, in case you were hungry." Which is, of course, how these things are done, usually, over a hearty meal.

"“Oh, thank you!" Robin chirps. She knows she has a fast metabolism, even for an Amberite. "I'mmmmm getting better at the underwater. And the lovely rooms certainly helped with that." She smiles another gratitude to her Aunt. And proceeds to load up on breakfast.

[Llewella]
"Celina has business elsewhere and she's delegated me this task, though she expects to break free from her appointment and join us. We have come up with a plan to reward Lady Morgne and Sir Ophiuchius for their services to Order, as it were, and we'd like to hear your thoughts on them."

"I'll be glad to share my thoughts, though I'll admit to a certain... lack of experience with formal rewards and royalty in general. Or did you mean my thoughts on Morgne and Ophiuchius?"

"Both." Llewella is also loading her plate, somewhat less heartily than Robin but definitely in a way that suggests she has an Amberite's metabolism. "As for the plan: Celina proposes to give Morgne an office at court, to thank her for her services to Order. With the appropriate fancy titles. You can't short people on titles in Rebma. And something for Sir Ophiuchius as well, bringing him into one of the guard regiments as an officer or some such to give him appropriate status as well." She takes her full plate, such as it is, and moves to seat herself.

"Hmmmm." Robin just manages not to flumpf into her seat with a full plate.

She ponders a moment around a few mouthfuls for herself and a few more for the firelizards.

"If it was me, the first thing I'd do is ask them if they want to be rewarded with either titles or work. I mean, they're coming off a millennia of a living a certain lifestyle and I haven't known them long enough to know how that's going to affect them. Though I must admit that I've been really impressed with both Lady Morgne and Sir Ophiuchius' flexibility when confronted by the sudden appearance of dramatic change." Robin waves a utensil at herself. "Morgne took only one night to process the possibilities and make her decisions. And Ophiuchius was seeing potentialities and providing alternatives from the moment the extent of the situation became apparent to him.

"That being said, Ophiuchius was looking a little bit shell-shocked last night after dinner; though that could have been exhaustion. It was a long and exciting trip for both of us." Robin smiles.

"Oh! I just remembered, he dealt with a half-naked and fairly whimsical Prince Bleys like a champion. So, if those two have become in any way rusty or bucolic, they seem to be able to rise above it. At least in the opinion of this wild child." Robin smiles.

Llewella starts to say something that Robin intuits must be related to 'why was Bleys half-naked?' but she obviously thinks better of the idea and dismisses it with a little shake of her head. "It's good to know they'd have ceremonial aplomb down, or at least that he would, and that they're fast decisionmakers. We can use more of that in this court. I'll admit it hadn't occurred to me that retirement from public life was an option, but I suppose not everybody wants to be at court all the time." Llewella's smile crinkles the corner of her eyes.

"What I was really thinking of as part of this duty, though, and this we certainly wouldn't impose without asking, is letting her take on part of the responsibility of keeping an eye on Huon. They're old and I think someone with that kind of life experience and loyalty to Order would be a useful ally in dealing with him with an eye toward, if not exactly rehabilitation, making sure he's not cutting side deals with our enemies again."

Robin pauses for a long while as she thinks. This is the type of question she would always avoid in the past - claiming ignorance or craziness (or both) - in order to avoid doing about the kind of thinking which is so, so hard for her. But this time, even if she seems naive, or stupid, she's been asked to help so she'll do her best.

When she speaks, she drawls a little as though her thoughts slowly form into words.

"Iiiii think that Lady Morgne is very... facile at intuiting people's... intentions and capabilities. I also think she has some experience with 'Princes' and their tendencies. But Iiiiii'mmm not sure if that opinion was formed from observation or because of a bias that Fae Folk always have those skills.

"I do think that excessive loyalty and devotion to her duty are part of her makeup. But I have no idea how to make sure that loyalty and sense of duty are assigned to Rebma and Celina. I think that Lady Morgne is far, FAR more subtle than Huon," a tinge of anger and disgust drifts into Robin's voice with her Uncle's name, "but I do not have enough experience to gauge them against one another in any meaningful way."

"Huon," and Llewella's voice carries less contempt and distaste than Robin's but that still leaves room for quite a bit of her own, "is not nearly as subtle as he likes to think he is. But yes, you've given me and Celina quite a bit to think about here. Would you rather I passed this advice along to Celina, or will you give it to her yourself?" Her tone carries no judgement of Robin, but clearly she's aware of Robin's distate for the ceremony that can surround even an informal Queen like Celina.

Robin smiles at the kindness, "Thank you, Aunt. Whichever you think is best. I have no difficulty talking to Celina, but I'm not sure if the Crown has the time for my..." she waves a hand as the words elude her, "...nature." Is the best she can come up with.

"On a different note," Robin's voice loses some of its animation as she approaches a prickly subject, "I'm am uncertain of your relationship with Khela, but I would like to express my condolences if it's alright." Robin holds there. She has more to say, but if Llewella's option is 'shut up' than shutting up it is.

"Your condolences are welcome." Llewella is neither moist nor sad, but resigned. There's a slight current that Robin reads as the sort of exhale that might make a sigh on the surface somewhere, and Llewella meets Robin's gaze. "Khela knew the risks, and the likely outcome, of what she was doing. I warned her, but she would always go her own way. It wasn't the first time. Just the last one."

"The burden of willful children," Robin nods sadly, "My father gets the same look in his eyes. It's... it's to help ameliorate that that I've tried to start calming down. If it was just me, the cliffs call. But I don't want him to have to... sigh anymore." Robin's eyes drift away.

"I only met her the once. And never by name, but..." Robin shakes her head, but a small smile twitches her lips. "She was great, impressive even, better than many of the boys. I think I really would've liked to play with her more..."

Llewella's eyebrows lift a little, and she says, perhaps a bit more sharply than she meant to, "Of course she was. Men are good," she adds, "for some things, but not as good as they frequently think they are.

Robin blinks a little at the sharpness and a small flock of birds launches behind her eyes. But the flurry is quick and results in a slight smile that says, 'Oh yeah. Rebman women. How restful (& nice!) not to have to deal with the testosterone poisoning..'

"And it's good that you're trying to ameliorate things for your father. I imagine he looks at you and sees your mother, and given how things went for her, that can't be easy for him." There is a look of sympathy on Llewella's face, but it's hard to say whether it's for Julian or Robin. "Dad handled her badly. I'm glad Jules learned from his example of what not to do."

Robin pauses for a long time, testing her feelings as cautiously as a deer on ice. This is a subject she has not just avoided, but fled. However, she is getting stronger. And she is committed to living within her long-lived, long-memoried family. And Rebman women, no testerone...

Robin clears her throat and jumps before she can chicken out. "Would... would you care to tell me about her, Aunt?"

Robin's not even sure what answer she wants. The jump was hard enough.

"I don't mind, but--that's a hard subject." Llewella's tone is not without sympathy. "Ysabeau should have come to Rebma when she was young. We could have channeled her gifts and her passion. As it was, Dad taught her that rules and restrictions had no rhyme or reason. Who could have expected her to respect the ones that actually turned out to have a cause?" She shakes her head in some cross, Robin feels, between annoyance and sorrow. "Dad wanted her to be biddable like Florimel. It wasn't as if Deirdre or Fiona had been easily directed, not like Flora. But Dad was determined to mold Ysabeau into the kind of girl he wanted. The rest of us got around him. She paid the price for us all."

Robin takes that in quietly for moment. Briefly, her face scrunches in distaste. The thought of someone trying to force her to be a, a 'princess' is just too yucky. Robin's expression melts into sympathy.

"Am I very reminiscent of her?" Robin asks before rushing on, "The ladies in Danu seemed to think so, but that might have been wishful thinking. And I really only ever met her ghost. Not the lady herself... I mean, I know I don't resemble Dad so I always assumed I took after my mother. But I don't actually... know."

Llewella's smile is rueful. "Probably to my brothers, in that you do what you want, instead of what they want you to do. But not to me. She was angry all the time, and not wrongly so. Dad was cruel to her. He was often cruel to women who didn't fit what he wanted. Maybe Julian did better by you.

Robin nods, he did.

"Danu only saw her as a goddess. In that way, you might be like her. But I think a wise mortal, or man of shadow, whatever you want to call it, would be afraid of Ysabeau. Not so much of you." Llewella tilts her head a little and ponders Robin. "I think you could hurt people, if given a reason, or by accident. But I don't think you'd flout a rule because you could, or hurt someone deliberately without a cause. If the rumors about Ysabeau are true, that's a way in which you're not at all like her.”

Robin's eyes widen a bit. Deliberate cruelty? Uh... no.

Perhaps when she was younger, or when she is feeling the need to be... outrageous. A smile flickers across her lips at the memory of Daeon's dragon-tongue. Sometimes folk act cruel to appear not-weak, and Unicorn knows she's done that. But to actually apply suffering to another being for no reason? That strikes Robin as wasteful. Or unfair. Yep, she's definitely Julian's daughter on that one.

As for rules flouting, the Black Road drove that lesson home pretty hard to the girl. Robin is now plenty aware that there are things out there in the universe that are going to chew her up, spit her out and move onto their next prey without even thinking about it too much. And it's the rules that are going to get her back-up when those things show. So no more antagonizing potential allies just for fun.

But if those are the types of things her Uncles are going to remember when they see her.... Maybe she should cut back on the reveling-in-chaos a little. She's not really a Maenad-type, but given the model Llewella's describing, Robin can see how her behavior might be mistaken for one...

And, my goodness, how long has she been chasing the little thought-birds around in her mental bushes. She glances up at Llewella with a blush. "Thank you... Ummm, rumors about Ysabeau? Did you have much interaction with her personally?"

Llewella shakes her head in the negative. "Not much. There was a long time when I wasn't really welcome in Amber. Rilga was kind to me and she wasn't involved in the business with the redheads, but still, her protection only extended so far when she was alive. But I met her a few times. Dad failed her, as much as he failed Random and Mirelle. The last lot of his children didn't have much luck. By the time he got to Paulette's children, even the boys were suffering from the ugly turn his parenting had taken. I'm not sorry I was raised in Rebma, nor that you were raised mostly in Arden."

Robin nods. "I consider myself... blessed to have been raised in Arden. It's good to be reminded that very few of my Aunts and Uncles got to experience anything like that."

Robin's eyes narrow in thought. "Were there... do you know if Ysabeau was cruel to any of her siblings? Particularly those younger than herself?"

"I don't think she got on with Random and Mirelle, particularly Mirelle, but she also wasn't around them very much. Childhood in Amber is something of a solitary experience. There aren't any sibling peers, not the way there can be in Rebma," Llewella explains. "I doubt she was any crueller to them than they all were to each other--but by Julian's standards, that may be unacceptable behavior anyway. Julian believes in training animals and children with relative kindness. That wasn't ever Dad's way."

Robin smiles fondly at the comment regarding Julian's training. She can't disagree, though her father's brand of kindness is not something to be confused with softness or weakness.

“Ah, I was just wondering... There's been a few weird vision/shadow-ripple-thingies around me that seemed to be trying to set me in opposition to Random, which is -- really -- the Last thing I want. I even kind of like the guy. So I don't understand where these echoes are coming from. I was kind of hoping they were a lineage thing, but I guess not..." Robin shrugs. She's not going to take Shadow lies too seriously. She was just hoping to track something down.

Llewella shakes her head again. "Not unless they come from your father's side of things. I believe in the primacy of maternity, but obviously I understand the importance of paternal genetics. But I think someone mentioned trouble on the Black Road that you were involved in? Fighting that was what killed Eric. And the Black Trench here was terrible. So I wouldn't be surprised at long-lasting effects. A lesser woman might not have survived at all."

Robin pauses for a moment as she gathers her thoughts. Another hard subject. And another that she's deliberately shied away from. Her mind goes back to her time with Fiona. Would her Family benefit from knowledge of that? And would her relationship with Them benefit from more openness from her about it?

Her eyes flick to Llewella, measuring. Well, only one way to find out. Hello, conversational cliff number two. Hopefully, she won't try to pass out like she did with Vere. Or go into a full-out delusional panic like she did with Garrett.

"I was scouting on the Black Road when the Pattern failed." Robin says dryly. "Mind you, my Father told me to scout beside the Black Road, but..." She shrugs. Kids.

"It was... disturbing. Crazy, disjointed. I had experiences - or visions - full of fire and blood, murder and betrayal. I... met another version of myself. I relived things from my memory, but twisted into new shapes. I saw things that I later gathered were happening at the same time or had happened to other people, but also twisted... maybe. I lost track of time, location and identity on several occasions. In the end, I thought I felt myself die, buried alive. Or crushed."

Robin smiles with bitter irony. "Then I 'woke up.' Beside my dead horse, not a day's ride from Arden..." she shakes her head and shrugs. What can one say?

"Since then, I have experienced echoes of those events. Annnnndddd, I've had trouble sorting out whether those echoes were created by my Heritage, mere delusions, or prophetic remnants from a moment when I may have existed outside of Ordered time and space."

Robin smiles again, an odd mix of mortification and fondness in her expression. "Aunt Fiona has been helping with that and we seem to be making good headway." Considering that she did not pass out or fly into a panic.

"As an added prize, Brennan says there's an egg-shaped hole in my Astral presence that indicates that while I was not... in control of myself, something may have crawled inside me to ride out the Shadowstorm." Robin's eyebrows rise in surprise. When Brennan first told her that, she was all calm and could respect the ingenuity of whatever did that. But now?

"Wow, that sounds a thousand time worse when said out loud, doesn't it?"

"It doesn't sound good," Llewella agrees. "We should try to see what we can see in a mirror, if you're willing. It doesn't always show the same things as Sorcery. Would you try that? With me or with Celina, or the both of us working together?"

"Certainly, whatever you'd like. As long as you will please forgive my lack of... impassioned response." Robin sighs. "I have spent so much energy in the last few months worrying about... well, just everything, that I, well, just don't want to do it anymore." She shrugs with a wry smile.

Llewella's smile is not unsympathetic. "Do you want to do it right now, so there's no time to worry? I can call Celina if you want, or just try it on my own."

Robin smiles, "No time like the present."

She shrugs away her opinion on the methodology though. Robin knows almost nothing about mirrors in general much less mirror magic. "Whatever you think is best."

"Let's ask Celina. Two heads are always better than one on this sort of thing, and she's got a very different practical experience to mine," Llewella suggests.

A page is instructed to send to Queen Celina requesting her assistance with a Family matter.

"Well," Robin drawls a little as she settles in her seat to wait. "If we're going to do a diagnosing thing, I should mention that one of my other consulting Astral Physicians is Princess Fiona. She conferred with Brennan and agreed that there was no sign of ongoing degradation and put forward a working hypothesis of myself being briefly a Lord of the Living Void. Her prescription, which seems to have worked fairly well, was a brisk trip down the Primal Pattern. That has certainly firmed up some of the physical and psychological symptoms I had been experiencing. But really hasn't shed any light on what made the hole originally or why..."

"Then we should focus on the past and not on the present," Llewella answers, her expression turning thoughtful. "The Pattern as Fiona wields it is supremely useful for some things, but there are ways in which mirrors can be more useful. This is one of them."

"Good," Robin nods. "As long as we avoid the whole 'Lord of the Living Void' thing. That sucked. Big time."

Robin's using humor to hide her uneasiness.

"We wouldn't want to undo Princess Fiona's good work after all. Thoooouuugh if I did have to go back on the Primal Pattern, maybe this time I could meet the lovely oversized reptile I scented there last time. Gotta love a giant lizard."

And she's babbling. The girl clamps her lips shut and with a blush, tends to her small but also very lovely lizards.

Who are apparently, at least in the case of Peep, indignant that Robin might prefer a big dragon. Llewella mostly keeps her amusement about that to herself.


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Last modified: 4 December 2016