Maybe Fae-be

Log Info

• Title: Maybe Fae-be

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

Lupecyll-Atlon home, early evening.

A weapon renamed and given new purpose. A weapon shattered. The Griever defied just one more measure. The Lupecyll-Atlons--Cor'lana and Telamon, to be exact--have returned home in victory, and... Well, they'd slept in. Exhaustion does that, even to archmages. (Especially to archmages, one can argue.)

The day that greeted the sorcerous couple was a beautiful one, with a lovely blue sky that had nary a cloud floating along in it. It seemed that the pixies knew better than to disturb either of them, because there hasn't been a single peep from either of them. Pothy, who had been attended to by Grandfather in the absence of their journey, had stuck to Cor'lana and Telamon both like sovereign glue.

But for the moment, it's just the two half-sil on the couch, curled up together. Yet Telamon knows something's been bugging Cor'lana all day. The thing that'd not crossed their mind link when the Joyful King caught Cor'lana in the wake of the dagger being destroyed: where Cor'lana seemed distant and staring at something that was not there, and muttered one Sylvan word: "Home."

"I wish I remembered what that was," Cor'lana mentions out of the blue as she's snuggled into Telamon's shoulder. "It felt... Comfortable, whatever it was. If bewildering."

Telamon has his arm settled around his wife's shoulders, the two of them dressed in light summer garments for the day. He rests his cheek against her head as she snuggles into him, his expression thoughtful. "Well... let's take it step by step. The Joyful King is a fey creature. But he's never had a home, not really -- that castle was a prison. We also know you react to fey influences, just as I react to star-related ones, because of our arcane heritage. Maybe he was unconsciously projecting that need for a home on you." He shakes his head. "I can't imagine he meant anything untoward by it. He didn't strike me as the sort."

Tel hmmms, tapping his fingers in the rhythm of a popular song at the University. "That's my first guess. He didn't say anything else about it after we'd all gone our separate ways. Maybe it's time you and I visited Grandfather again, though. Let you feel Quelynos around you once more."

Cor'lana smiles brightly, nodding just a little (because nodding too severely might bump her husband, and no one wants a bruised Telamon) as she listens to him. "I don't think it was malicious, either," she says. "I mean, he caught me. And like you said, given that he's fey--and a monarch at that--maybe... it was like a boon of some sort."

She grins. "It'd be nice to visit Grandfather without having the needs of the world pressing on our backs this time," she says. "I'm sure his eyebrows will climb all the way to his hairline when we tell him about the Joyful King. We have a habit of getting into things without his knowledge. Like naughty children sneaking cookies from the cookie jar." Her eyes twinkle with mirth.

Then comes a sound like a chime--back over by the kitchen. Cor'lana raises a brow. "That might be a pixie," she says. "Or two. Or... three. There's that third one now, right? Primrose? I know Lily-of-the-Valley mentioned having a friend she meets up with at the Temple of Angoron."

Telamon laughs softly. "I think Grandfather understands. We have to be free to spread our wings, to explore the world and build our own tale before we finally come back home. But I imagine he'll be most fascinated with the tale we have to tell." He lightly strokes Lana's hair, pondering. "Besides, transforming a weapon into a person -- and a good one, if that -- would certainly appeal to him. Changing one's nature. I remember discussing something of that with Simony."

He lifts an eyebrow. "They met at the temple of Angoron? I don't see why pixies would be..." He pauses, then understanding dawns in his eyes, and he conceals a smile. "Let me guess. No religious impulse, just admiration for the athletes there, huh?"

Cor'lana gives a big grin at Telamon. "Yeah, I don't think they're there for genuine religious fervor so much as they are for men-watching," she says, "but I could be wrong." She leans in and gives Telamon a little peck on the lips before she goes to the trouble of rising up from the couch. She stretches out a little before she goes to the kitchen window. "Hmmm... Yes, looks like Lily-of-the-Valley and her friend."

She opens the window, and in flies the two pixies. Lily-of-the-Valley, of course, squeals loudly upon entry. There is no volume control on the girl. "HELLO-MILADY-AND-MILORD!" Yup, there goes Lily. She's vibrating mid-air. Can pixies get zoomies? It looks like she's about to go zoom. "I have brought my most fabulous sister-in-Angoron today to meet you both! Finally, Primrose has accepted my most generous offer of introducing the two of you to her!"

Primrose--who is a pixie armed with a small sword--stares at Cor'lana. "Lily," she begins, "I thought you were going to take me to a house with a real specimen of Angoron's ferocity. You have shown me a--" Primrose squints. "Hey, wait a minute. Why did you trick me, Lily? Is this your faerie mistress?"

"Tigers can't change their stripes," Telamon says philosophically. "And to be fair, it's not like mortals don't do the same." His lips quirk. "I doubt every young student in one of my classes is there solely for the wisdom or knowledge I am passing on."

He rises after Lana does, rolling his head on his neck a bit before following in his wife's wake. When the pixies come zooming in, he pauses to grin again. "And a good day to you as well, Lily. I trust all is well." At Primrose's inquiry, the elegant half-elf follows his wife into the kitchen. "Well, there's ferocity and then there's ferocity. But I assure you, my lady is a prime example of the old saw about the female being deadlier than the male."

Cor'lana flushes a little as Telamon compliments her. It doesn't matter how long they've been together or how long they've been married--Telamon complimenting her never fails to make her cheeks color. She smiles as she goes to put her arm around Telamon by the waist. "I am called Cor'lana Lupecyll-Atlon, child of the Feathered One, and this is my husband, Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, Archmage and Starborn."

Primrose regards the two for a moment, staring at Cor'lana in particular. "Perplexing," she says finally. "What are you? You seem... fae, but not quite."

Lily-of-the-Valley stops in her frantic buzz of wings and stares at Cor'lana too. "Oh. Yeah. You look really pretty today, milady. Like... Really pretty! What'd you do differently?"

Cor'lana blinks and looks at Telamon. "Umm... Nothing different?" she asks, as though she needs Telamon's measure of the 'what is normal for Cor'lana' scale to back up her argument.

Telamon looks puzzled as well. "Well, I was going to offer to braid your hair at some point, Lana, but we were so worn out last night we just kind of collapsed into bed." He tilts his head, looking at her, but then shakes his head. "I don't see anything, but my judgement is of course highly biased." He winks at Lana. "You are, after all, the most beautiful woman in the world."

His own arm is around Lana as well, as natural as breathing, as he regards Primrose. "My wife does claim kinship, if distantly, with a fey lord, and we both count friends among the fey. Perhaps you sense that connection?"

Cor'lana flushes even deeper. In the privacy of their home, the bashful and nervous Cor'lana that Telamon had met long ago (by her assumed alias) comes out again when Telamon lays upon her all the compliments and loving words in the world. "Says the most handsome man in all the world," she responds in turn, light shining in her violet eyes.

Primrose makes a humming noise as she looks at Cor'lana. "There's a problem with that," she says. "It feels like... She's fae, but only about... Twenty-five percent fae?" She looks at Lily. "Would you say that's about right?"

Lily-of-the-Valley hums thoughtfully. "You knowwwww," she says, "that sounds about right. I just look at milady and you seem... more..." She makes a gesture around her whole body. "Fae? Like we know when we see our own. We've all got an aura about us. You've got one that's fae but not. Always have, but like, y'know, not so strongly fae."

Cor'lana blinks, and she looks at Telamon. "But... I don't feel any different," she says. "Do you think maybe this has to do with the Joyful King?"

Telamon can't help but smile at that blush, and he reaches out to brush back a lock of her hair. "So you keep telling me," he says with a twinkle in his starry eyes. But his gaze shifts back to Lily and Primrose, and he muses over their remarks.

"It's not impossible that it's something related to the Joyful King. Exposure, maybe. He might not have even realized he did it. There are recorded cases of such things happening -- it's how aspects and even sorcerous bloodlines can appear." He gives Lana a squeeze. "This might be something we need to discuss with Grandfather. Face it up front. You remember how twitchy he got that time after we fought the clockwork magicians?"

"Apparently we definitely need to," Cor'lana agrees with a little nod. "I wonder how Grandfather will take it? That I'm... apparently becoming more fae?"

She thinks a moment, and then she blinks. And then she looks at Telamon with wide, wide eyes. "Tel... Grandfather once told me that his children with his wife? They all had wings." Her eyes are alight in a mixture of curiosity and yet also... a bit of trepidation. "What if I end up sprouting wings? Oh goodness, how would we cuddle at night?"

"NOT THE CUDDLES!" Lily-of-the-Valley wails despondently. "Do you know HOW MANY CUDDLE SCENES I write in my fanfiction about you two!?"

Primrose stares at Lily-of-the-Valley. "Dude," she says. "Are you spending time writing... romance novels about your lord and lady? When you could be writing texts in praise to Angoron and his hunky men? Lily-of-the-Valley! I knew you were a pretender!"

She draws her sword. (It's a petite little pixie-sword.) "En garde! I will accept nothing less but the utmost allegiance and devotion of my sister in beefy oiled boys--I mean Angoron!"

Telamon looks wry. "He'd probably be delighted, knowing him. Means you won't lose your taste for mortal foods if you sample more of his cooking."

At her worried expression, he just shakes his head. "We'd find a way. We're both sorcerers, and we'd think of something. I worry more that we'd have to rebuild your entire wardrobe. Jovani will have a field day." He gives her an impish smile.

When Primrose draws her sword, though, Telamon frowns. "A-hem," he says pointedly, something in his eyes a bit unamused. "For shame, Primrose, to draw steel in a house where you are a guest. Are you defending this home from outside assault? Put up your blade, this house is a haven to all goodly folk -- mortals and fey alike." A pause. "Even if some of them are a little emptier in the head than others," he mumbles.

Primrose stares at Telamon with her sword out. And she stares. Stares. Stares. Stares with those dark eyes of hers that are like Mirabilis and Lily-of-the-Valley's. "Have I been so wrong?" she asks. "For in front of me is a man who stands like a willow in the woods, lovely as he is quick-witted with tongue. For I have long been regarding the sheer power and athleticism of Angoron's hunkiest of men that I have not noticed--"

Her words get interrupted by Lily-of-the-Valley suddenly grabbing her and tussling around with her mid-air. "Don't you DARE talk all that shit about me being a pretender when you get sassed by my lord one time and then you're all 'oooh I like hot elfy boys now' too, damn it!" Lily-of-the-Valley yells. "But I'm the cream, and the cream will rise to the TOP!"

Cor'lana coughs. She murmurs a few words of power, and then she casts the magic with which she is an expert in. "Please take your wrestling match outside," she says.

The two pixies stop. "Okay!" they both answer, and then they fly out the kitchen window just to go at it somewhere in the yard. While the pixie catfight is afoot, Cor'lana looks up at Telamon. "I feel like poor Jovani would have a fit, yes," she says. "But maybe it's best not to, as you like to say, borrow troubles from the future and worry too much about it?"

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Mass Suggestion. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26

Telamon just watches in amusement as Primrose is struck by him, and then promptly assaulted by Lily. When Lana's suggestion hits, even his feet twitch a tiny bit, as the spell passes by.

"You would think making friends over mutual interests wouldn't be so... fraught," Tel remarks. "Come to think of it, they're basically arguing over the same things. It's just that one wants to put a religious subtext on them." He idly scratches his chin, before looking down at Lana.

"That's a wise thought. Before we go into full panic mode, or start asking Jovani to redesign all your dresses, we should talk to Grandfather. He may have some insights, love. For all our power and all our deeds, we are both young by most standards. We simply don't know enough to make an informed decision -- so we need to fix that."

Cor'lana snorts a little, leaning a little into him. After all, cuddles can be had in the kitchen, too. "You know," she says, "this is probably how they have fun together? Like... Imagine having a friend who's also your rival, and it's a friendly competition to improve at something you're both trying to get better at."

She pauses a moment to listen for the sound of Lily-of-the-Valley wailing 'I've been MALIGNED from the TOP' amidst more pixie-fighting before she chuckles and shakes her head. "Wrestling is something Angoron looks favorably upon? So I imagine that this is their way of solving their disputes and also honoring Angoron and... feeling closer to the men they're watching?" Cor'lana grins as she looks up at Telamon. "Although it seems like Primrose is a bit taken with you the moment you told her off. Weird, but... She is fae." And she knows exactly what she's talking about there.

Cor'lana shifts herself so she's no longer leaning into Telamon, instead parking herself right underneath Telamon's chin--right into the happy space. "Whatever happens to me," she says, "I hope this part never changes. I'd hate to grow any taller when I'm the perfect size for being held by you."

Telamon folds her neatly into that happy place right under his chin. "That makes two of us," he says warmly. "We're both perfect for each other. We complement each other in ways we didn't even realize." Taking a deep breath, glancing out the window at the yelling. "Well, as long as it doesn't involve blades it'll be all right. I think Angoron actually recommends a good honest scuffle now and then to clear the air." His lips quirk. "Though I don't think we need it. I don't think either of us is good at scuffling anyways."

He arches an eyebrow at the remark about Primrose's reaction. "Hm. Well, when you're this handsome you tend to accumulate attention. And occasionally hatred from the less fortunate." He strikes a noble pose. "I forgive them, I'd be mad too."

Cor'lana laughs into the happy place, which is really the place that a laugh ought to be. "You are handsome," she says. "And humble, too." She gives Telamon a playful little kiss on the neck. Thankfully not an extended one, or he'd be walking into a magic ethics lesson with a scandalous little love-bite on his skin.

She pulls back a moment later and says, "Well, there's different definitions of a scuffle. Some cultures might consider the art of making love to be a scuffle, if it's... Particularly aggressive." She's all grins. "I'm not interested in such a thing. With you, I rather think I'd prefer to make love, not war."

Outside, Lily-of-the-Valley yells, "THE CREAM OF THE CROP! Nobody does it better!" Apparently victorious over Primrose.

Telamon laughs softly, and nuzzles her in return. "I have to indulge myself a little bit. But only at home, with you." He just shakes his head. "Yeah, I've heard of a couple of those. I will pass. Aggression's something to save for people who make me angry, not for the love of my life." He strokes her cheek. "And for you, well... I can't imagine wanting to fight you. Even in jest."

The comment is punctuated by Lily's victory cheer. "Wonder if she pulled something underhanded. Lily's never struck me as martially inclined. Although if she's been at the Colosseum, she's been watching the monks, so..."

"And she's been watching Aryia with her team in the Colosseum, too," Cor'lana wonders. "Maybe Lily-of-the-Valley's become a student of the Way of Aryia."

She looks back out the window and snorts. "No, she's way too loud to be an adherent of Aryia," she decides, before she looks at Telamon with a grin. "Now, I can be underhanded too..."

Cor'lana pulls out a little from Telamon's grasp and gets up on her tiptoes, and she thinks of something rather appealing in the mental bond--something to do with the lines of 'make love, not war'. "Although that might be about as underhanded as dropping a giant hammer on your desk," she says with a grin. "Shall we? And then dinner after?"

He lifts his eyebrows. "Aryia's loud. Just in different ways. Not verbally, but the way she talks... I could see Lily latching onto it. And after all, if it works for her, well, more power to her."

Tel grins. "You, underhanded? Never. Under the covers, though..." He smiles at her mental impulse, and casually crooks a finger... causing the window to close. "I think you mean 'overt', not underhanded, dear. Not that I ever mind." He takes her hand. "Why don't we discuss this further upstairs? And then, yes, I think a nice dinner is in order, for the loveliest lady in my life."

And so life goes on in the Lupecyll-Atlon home.