Garden of the Future

Lupecyll-Atlon home, afternoon.

Snowflakes gently fall from the gray-white skies, forming a blankets of snow that adorn the roofs and houses of the University District. While some students (and professors) are enjoying the soft snow-flurries by scooping them up into snowballs and tossing them at each other with liberal applications of magic, others have taken the opportunity to head indoors and stay there, enjoying the ambience of the snowy day from the safety and warmth of a window and a lit fireplace.

One such fireplace is being tended to by a tall gentleman with violet eyes, his pale-gray skin more of a match for the sky outside than anything else within the Lupecyll-Atlon home. His large, taloned hands grip a poker that he returns to the side of the fireplace once the newly-placed logs within have caught flame. "Your fire is tended, child," he says in his deep and melodious tone, smiling softly in the direction of the kitchen.

"Thanks, Grandfather," Cor'lana calls out in gratitude--followed by an 'oof' as she pulls a ceramic dish out from the brick oven in the kitchen. "Your pie's out to cool."

"Let it sit out on the counter, little bird. I'll tell you when it's cooled enough to eat," Grandfather replies as he makes his way back to the large rocking chair in the corner of the room, where his neglected knitting needles lie in wait, a royal purple yarn currently being carefully shaped into what looks to be a rather elaborate scarf that is... already four feet long. He takes up his project and needles carefully in those talons of his, and... resumes knitting at a pace that one would think is impossible for such sharp-looking claws.

Despite the chill, it's a lovely day outside, at least as far as Auranar is concerned. She's warm bundled up under all her layers, and so she takes her sweet time wandering the streets on the way toward Telamon and Cor'lana's home. Thus there is no rush in her knock when she actually reaches her destination, holding as always a basket in her hands and a warm smile on her face.

The knock on the door causes Grandfather to pause only momentarily in his knitting, looking up to the door with a brief glint of something hard and potentially dangerous in his violet eyes--

"I'll get it," Cor'lana says, emerging from the kitchen with an apron still wrapped around her waist. "You've got that whole scarf you're working on. How long /is/ it going to be, anyway?" The question is asked casually as she approaches the front door and opens it...

"Auranar!" she says with a smile. "Hello! Oh, goodness, come on in. We've got the fireplace going, and Grandfather--"

Cor'lana stops short, looking caught somewhere between the rather differing concepts of excitement and hesitation in her face. "That's right, you haven't met him yet, have you?" she asks, her voice dropping a little in volume. "My ancestor's visiting me. He's nice. He just /looks/... a little intimidating. Come on in, he loves meeting new people." She moves out of the way for Auranar to walk in.

The door opens and Auranar's smile widens even more at the sight of her friend. "Greetings Cor'lana! I was hoping you'd be home this time!" She quiets a bit as the other woman explains that she already has a guest, and she's ready to turn around and leave when she's instead invited inside. "Are you sure?"

She hesitates only a moment before stepping inside the room, looking around and then... Well Grandfather is certainly worth a look or two. She actually flushes in embarrassment when she realizes that she's staring a bit, and offers a polite curtsy to the clawed-hand gentleman knitting in the corner. "Greetings to you Cor'lana's Grandfather." Her tone is imminently polite and she offers her basket to Cor'lana.

"I brought a pie. And some nuts for Pothy." Auranar never failed to remember the familiar.

The dark-haired gentleman smiles in a genial enough way that looks... almost out of place compared to the rest of him. That cloak of feathers that he wears on his shoulders, the long wine-dark robe that opens at the chest and falls to the floor, the taloned hands, and the violet eyes that seem to have their own sort of inner glow around the irises--it is, as Cor'lana implied, a bit. Or more accurately, a lot. But then Grandfather speaks in his deep tones. "Good afternoon. Auranar, was it?" There's true mirth in his voice, even if it's hard to read much of anything from his eyes. "Please, call me Grandfather."

"Oh, thank you, Pothy will appreciate the nuts, and we'll certainly love the pie, too.--Auranar's a good friend of mine," Cor'lana explains as she takes the basket. She leans over to Auranar a little and murmurs, "If you remember the gentleman in the nice clothes who conducted my wedding--that was Grandfather. Just, err, in a form a little more--"

"Palatable for mortal eyes, yes. I /can/ hear you, little bird," Grandfather interrupts with a chuckle, although the sound is more like the melodic tolling of bells. "Please, be at ease. Now... pie? Do you bake, Auranar? I am a baker, myself." The knitting needles keep going on the scarf as he talks, not slowing even by little.

Auranar nods at Grandfather's question. "Yes." That's her name. Indeed. She's not stairing again. Nope. She shakes her head and looks at Cor'lana as the woman lowers her voice and then... Oh yes! She looks at Grandfather again and she smiles in recognition. He'd looked just a little familiar in this form, and she hadn't been able to place it. "I can understand. It's probably a bit hard to walk around in a form that draws the eye like I'm sure yours does."

Her own reaction was proof enough of that, though she smiles wryly. Her own form of dress was often meant to draw the eye, and as she takes off her coat and cloak she's wearing yet another such dress today. This time a navy-blue dress with a pair of phoenix birds embordered on it in gold. "Oh yes! I love baking just about anything." She sets her things off to the side and smiles warmly at Grandfather. "What about you? Do you like baking anything in particular?"

"He /does/ draw a bit of attention," Cor'lana says, although she looks a little wry as she says, "even in his other form. He worked at a bookstore for a while here in Alexandria and developed a small following of older women trying to chat him up." She disappears into the kitchen with that remark, presumably to put the pie and nuts away.

That gets the needles to stop, and Grandfather sighs. "I wasn't /trying/ to develop a following. I was only trying to sell the latest Crimson Pen," he calls after Cor'lana, in a manner that's... Bashful? Oh yes. That's bashfulness, both in his voice and in his mouth. "I just might have... accidentally overdone it."

He sighs and turns back to Auranar, the knitting needles resuming their determined work. "I bake many things. Pies, cookies, cakes, scones, muffins--a mixture of recipes I have developed in my home in Quelynos and learned from my wonderful descendants and the other mortals they mingled with. I recall that I sent home your heart's match, if I am remembering the names correctly, with some lemon-lavender cookies once when Verna arrived here some months ago."

Cor'lana reappears, placing the basket by Auranar. "I'll take your coat?" she offers. "We've got coat and cloak-hooks by the door. That is a gorgeous dress, by the way, Auranar."

"I have to agree. Lovely construction and lovely embroidery," Grandfather echoes with an emphatic nod.

Auranar can't help but grin at the thought of this man - or rather the one that had officiated Cor'lana's wedding. She could well imagine that he'd have gathered a bit of a following. "It must be nice to have all those recipes to share with your family!" She beams at the thought and warms even more to this gentleman when he mentions Verna. "Yes, Verna is indeed the other half of my heart. She's actually the one that baked this particular pie. I think I'm rubbing off on her."

She gratefully passes off her coat and cloak to Cor'lana and has the grace to look a little shy at the complements to her dress. "This is one of my favorites. I know it's a little much to wear just for a visit, but... I'm forever dressing up. I love it." She laughs. "If I had any skill with sewing I would probably have a shop's worth of dresses in my closet, it's a good thing that my only real talent is in the kitchen!"

"Well... My family is much smaller in these times compared to centuries past," Grandfather says. Here, his expression becomes very warm as he looks at Cor'lana, who goes to put Auranar's coat and cloak away on the hooks by the door. "But I cannot complain, especially as Cor'lana has committed to rebuilding the family tree."

"In a decade or two, when I'm done adventuring," Cor'lana clarifies with a small laugh. She returns and takes a seat, pouring a cup of lavender-mint tea from the teapot that's almost perpetually on the table in the middle of the living room. She nudges the teacup in Auranar's direction before she pours her own. "Really, Verna baked that pie? You /are/ rubbing off on her. Granted, Telamon was the one who taught me how to dress myself, so..."

"There is no shame in self-expression, Auranar," Grandfather replies. "If you wish to learn to sew, I could make myself available. I've repaired my descendants' clothes and plush toys for centuries, as well as made them new ones. Of course, I also do this, and I can teach that as well." Here, he briefly pauses to raise his knitting needles, showing the scarf he's working on. "I made Cor'lana's wedding shawl, in fact."

Auranar, reminded of her duties as a guest, sits down in a seat across from Cor'lana where she can still see Grandfather and gratefully accepts the tea offered to her. "Mmm, this smells delicious." She complements, smelling the warm tea and cradling it in her cool hands for warmth. "You plan to have children Cor'lana? I didn't know that, I wish you and Telamon the best of luck in that - when you two decide to have them."

Though she smiles warmly at this, there's something in her eyes that says that the topic of children is perhaps not the most comfortable one for her. She seems then fairly eager and willing to accept the topic change to learning to sew. "That's so generous of you to offer! I think I would like that very much though... I think it will have to wait a few months. Between the wedding and my studies with Telamon and this business with the totems, I'm hardly sleeping as it is. But I would be grateful to learn from someone who can make the beautiful things I've seen you make."

"Oh, you are learning magic from Telamon?" Grandfather seems rather pleased by this notion, judging by the wide grin on his face. Those canine teeth of his are a /little/ long for elven teeth. "He is an excellent teacher. Just as my late wife once had to teach me about friendship and then romance, he taught Cor'lana about such things. Judging by her happiness, he seems to be an effective teacher."

That gets Cor'lana blushing and smiling of her own accord as she picks up her teacup. "Maybe Grandfather could help with the wedding somehow?" she asks. "Obviously, not to conduct the ceremony itself, but maybe you want something made--"

"Doilies, perhaps," Grandfather offers. "Something intricate and lovely to hang off a serving table. Or I could knit some flowers to add some color to displays. Name it and I could likely provide. I find myself with ample free time at the moment, and I spend my days tending to my gardens, spinning yarns for knitting, and reliving memories of times long past when I am not visiting Cor'lana."

"I am." Auranar smiles warmly at Grandfather, his pleasure - even if it does flash some terribly sharp teeth - is infectious to a woman who is always happy to see another happy. "He is a very good teacher, and I think I'm getting better at controlling my magic. It feels that way anyways!"

The wild elf blinks at the offer of assistance and takes a sip of her tea. "That would be so pretty, and so nice! We are having the ceremony in a magical mansion, so most things will be taken care of. If you have ample free time however, perhaps you can come by the house sometime and teach me a few of your recipes! I've been spending the whole winter doing so and I'm starting to run out of ideas."

Cor'lana looks... almost concerned? at the suggestion Auranar makes. She turns to Grandfather. "Do you--"

"Of course, I'd /love/ to," Grandfather practically beams. "I'll have to bring a copy of my notes and recipes for you to try. I've adapted most of them to ingredients that can be found more readily in the mortal realm. Do not worry about me, Cor'lana, I can make my way in Alexandria without drawing attention just fine."

Cor'lana just nods. "If you see a raven with violet eyes tapping at your window--that's him," she elaborates. "That's his usual way of getting around."

Auranar beams back at Grandfather, drinking deeply of her tea and smiling. "That sounds perfect. I'll be certain that Verna knows to let you in as well. Just in case I'm not home or she happens to be closer to the window or door." She sighs in satisfaction, and leans back in her chair smiling now at Cor'lana. "The basket has yours and Telamon's invitations in it as well. I do hope that you'll be able to make it, but I know things have been a little crazy lately."

It's Cor'lana's turn to beam, her smile bright and wide. "Oh, thank you! Of course Telamon and I will find the time to come," she says. "Luckily, I think I have an outfit for the occasion, although Telamon might insist on getting something new for the occasion altogether..."

"You could wear your Grandmother's dress," Grandfather suggests. His hands make slightly different motions with the knitting needles now, and in short order, the scarf is suddenly off of them, only connected to the rest of the ball of yarn by one string--which he cuts with a simple pinch of his talons. Then from somewhere within his cloak of feathers, he draws out what looks to be a slightly larger sewing needle, which he threads with the hanging yarn and begins to weave into the scarf. "The one I gave you some time back, with the long sleeves and the feathers. You look lovely in it."

"I don't know if there's a single thing that I could wear and you'd describe it as ugly, Grandfather," Cor'lana replies with a little grin. She looks back at Auranar. "Things are... always a bit of crazy? But that's why things like parties and weddings are important. They remind us that life is more than just danger and fear. There's also love and happiness, which is what I hope you and Verna have--and will have plenty of." "Wear what you like! There's no strict dress code for the guests. I'll be wearing my mother's wedding dress with a few alterations made since we're not exactly the same size." Auranar runs her fingers around the edge of her cup, smiling even as she looks into the tea. "I love her so much Cor'lana. When she's not around I think about her constantly. 'Verna would love this', 'Verna would say that'. I know she'd love this tea, and that she'd complain that me cooking more is going to make her fat, but laugh because she knows it's not true."

She lifts her eyes to look at Cor'lana. "I want everything for her. I wish every day that my grandmother was..." Here her smile falters and she lets out a little laugh instead. "Well more like your Grandfather. It's clear how much he loves you, how much he's happy that you're happy. I wish I could offer Verna a family like that. We're even considering making a new curuchuil because..."

Auranar finally trails off entirely. Cor'lana though she's only half-elf will understand that the creation of a new curuchuil over the use of an existing one would mean something was very off.

Cor'lana and Grandfather share meaningful glances between each other as Auranar talks about the curuchuil and Verna. Cor'lana, finally, nods. "I understand," she says, speaking first. "My paternal family's usage of the curuchuil is... odd, but my relationship with my father is strained, too. That's part of why Telamon and I decided to make a new curuchuil tradition on our left hands: for the new family branch we're starting together. And, you know, a family doesn't /have/ to be related by blood. I have someone I call sister who I don't share a drop of blood with, I have a raven familiar who's practically my little brother, and I have Telamon's cousins and parents, too, to call family."

"Sometimes it is not about the branches of the tree," Grandfather elaborates, "but about the birds who come to rest on the tree, and the animals that come to rest at the roots. I am of the same opinion as my little bird: family is who you define as such. If they are the friends you make along the path in life, then that is just as worthy as the family who led to your birth."

Auranar grasps the tea cup very tightly listening intently to the words that are offered to her. "I just... don't want to be alone again." She says it very quietly and then looks at Granfather, her dark eyes full of a pain that she knows he'll understand because she knows his true nature. "I am a tree, and all of my friends will come and go. Verna..."

She has to stop here and look down again just briefly so she can regain control over herself. "How do you bear it?"

Both Cor'lana and Grandfather nod soberly, Grandfather in particular truly understanding that pain. He does something somewhat unexpected in that he puts his scarf down, rises from his rocking chair, and... he actually kneels down before Auranar, reducing his somewhat intimidating full height to a more approachable level. Gently, he reaches out with those large talons of his and cups them around Auranar's. They are initially cold to the touch, but warm rapidly, and... despite their appearance and the sort of inherent danger that's presented by the talons, the rest of the appendages feel... like hands. Like mortal hands.

"There is always pain, little one," Grandfather says softly, says gently. "There will always be sadness. There will always be torment. I have watched over many of Cor'lana's ancestors from cradle to grave. I have clothed them, fed them, and then buried them when it became their time to pass on. And while I mourn every single one of them to this day: I am happier for having known them at all. I know what I am when I am consumed fully in despair, and I am... a monster, who screams and cries for someone or something to soothe the loneliness. But eventually, it is answered by someone with a heart wide enough to let me in. A friend. Or a descendant. One who I inevitably know will bring me to tears again, but as time has gone on, the tears fade and I am left with the warm memory of what was left behind."

Cor'lana walks over to Auranar, too, putting her hand on her friend's shoulder. "There are so many things a tree can see," she says. "It doesn't matter if they're in a forest or in a clearing. The tree can still receive the sun's rays and its warmth, and the tree will meet birds who nest in the tree's branches, even if it's not the same birds as the year before. And your friends will remember you still, even in the Halls."

Auranar looks into Grandfather's purple eyes and suddenly moves forward, putting her cup down so that she can embrace the older man. He might not be _human_ but neither is she. He might not be an _elf_, but he still has a heart. A heart like hers. She takes him into her arms and she murmurs softly in his ear, telling him that he'll always be welcome in her home. She can't live forever like he will, but she knows now that they'll be friends as long as she's alive because of this moment. Because he's given her something precious.

Hope.

She's crying a little, because it's not the hope that she wants, the hope of a life full of life, but it's not as bad as the life she'd been imagining since her talk with Verna. She won't be alone. Finally she wipes her eyes and looks at Cor'lana. "Cor'lana... I'd like to include you and Telamon, and Grandfather in the curuchuil I'm building with Verna. I... maybe I'm asking too much-"

Grandfather accepts that embrace as readily as a man who has spent many elven lifetimes consoling someone does. His arms wrap around her and urges her into those feathers of his cloak that adorns his shoulders, where so many of elven blood like Auranar's have cried. For she is sylvanori like Cor'lana's paternal bloodline, and while he is not her ancestor by blood, there is a such thing as family and friendship by means of kin--and kindred spirits beyond that.

"You are not asking too much, little one," Grandfather says softly, says warmly, his voice deep and welcoming, like the toll of a bell in a temple that provides the warmth for the weary traveler in the dead of winter. "I would be honored. And I would extend to you the ability to wear the Lupecyll-Atlon name if you would want it, and should Cor'lana approve--as she is the head of the family, not I. For a child should be proud of the name they wear and should be able to point to the tree that they can name as home."

Cor'lana's eyes are sparkling with her own tears now, nodding. "I could never deny anyone that, especially not Auranar," she says. "I'd love to be in the curuchuil. And... if Auranar wants it, I'd be proud to have her wear the family name, if she isn't planning on making one with Verna. That's why Telamon and I blended our names together--so that all would know the family branch started with two half-sil in love, and the family they made--and the family that they found."

Auranar laughs. "I accept. We're family. Now and forever." She can't stop the tears as easily as she'd like, but she doesn't need to. Nobody in this room seems to care if she's a little teary-eyed. "We'll build our own curuchuil."

It'll be hers, and theirs, and everyone will be welcome in it. Everyone will be a part of it. Elf or no. So long as she lives and breathes and can make it so. Even when she's gone the plants will live on, so that everyone will remember that they were a family.

She weeps, and that's okay.

-End