On the Nature of Stars and Lavender

Log Info

• Title: On the Nature of Stars and Lavender

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

• Summary: Ravenstongue has just finished a poem when Telamon comes home from a Shining Chalice meeting. She gives it to him and they both discuss the qualities of the poem as it concerns their relationship. Then the conversation turns to the curious topic of the physical tells of their sorcerous bloodlines and ancestries: Telamon's starry eyes and Ravenstongue's very faint scent of lavender. Telamon contemplates a gift for Aryia as a result of the incredibly successful dinner with his mother that starred Ravenstongue wearing Aryia's handiwork. Finally, Ravenstongue reveals her birthday is coming up in a month, and she tells him what she wants: the very first birthday party she's ever had in her life.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-     
Ravenstongue         5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.                       
Telamon              5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes                       
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perform/Oratory: (15)+9: 24 (poem quality check)

Another winter night at the Lúpecyll-Atlon home in the University District, where Ravenstongue is sitting down on a newly-acquired couch in the living room space next to the kitchen. Her eyes are scanning a poem that she's just finished the last drop of ink on. She seems satisfied and sets down the poem on another new addition: a nice dark-wood table next to the couch. "There," she says. "I think that's halfway decent. It's been a while since I've written anything, but..."

Pothy sits on the table, too. He's got a bowl of nuts all to himself, as the couch is a no-snacks zone. As Raven talks, he whistles at her. Whatever he's just said has elicited a blush from Ravenstongue.

"Whatever you do, don't tel Tel about that. Thank gods those journals are all back in Rune at my mother's house," she says with a sigh. "I don't want him to ever find those."

The door opens, admitting a brief burst of cold before it's hurriedly shut again. "Blast!" Telamon's voice can be heard. "I cannot wait for spring. I am tired of snow and ice and frost." Once the door is secured, he peels out of his heavy cloak and unlaces his boots, leaving them on the boot-rack by the door to dry out. Putting on the slipper nearby, he walks out into the living room, smiling at Raven. "Well, that was an... interesting meeting. Evidently the Shining Chalice is fascinated with astrology. At least it didn't devolve into a fistfight like last time, when they were arguing over Eluna being ascending or descending." He shakes his head. "And how're you tonight, love?"

Thank the gods, Raven's secret involving what can only be embarrassing teenage writings is safe. For now. She hops up from her seat on the couch and brings Telamon up into a hug. "Well, thankfully you have a nice warm home and a pretty lady to come home to after a chaotic meeting," she says with a smile.

"And Pothy," Pothy says, mimicking Ravenstongue's voice. He continues eating his nuts.

"And Pothy, of course!" Ravenstongue snickers. "As for me, well, I'm fine. I just finished a poem--it's not a Sylvan one this time."

Telamon wraps his arms around Raven, burying his face in her hair for a moment before lifting his head to look down at her. "Having a lovely lady at home definitely helps," he replies with a grin. His arms still around her, as he chuckles at Pothy. "I'm glad you spent your time more productively than me. I was drawing up star charts for their astrological work." He flexes his hand a bit. "Is your poem ready to read just yet? Or are you still polishing it?"

Very up close and personal, Ravenstongue smells like lavender--the smell is too faint to detect until one hugs Ravenstongue for longer than a moment. And yet Telamon knows she doesn't wear perfume, nor does any of the bathing supplies she uses smell anything like lavender. It's yet another odd thing about the feytouched half-elf girl--something so small and so odd that it's never been commented on.

"Well, you have to let the astrologers think they know everything about the stars, even if you know better, Tel. I'm surprised they're not conducting experiments on you and trying to read your birth chart." Ravenstongue grins at him before she looks over at the poem, then gives Pothy a little whistle.

Pothy actually pauses from his eating and he takes the poem up in his beak, flying onto Ravenstongue's shoulder. He holds it up for Telamon to read. "It's ready to read. I think the inspiration will be pretty obvious," Ravenstongue says.

The poem is of somewhat startlingly good quality. Raven has clearly been writing for longer than she really implied to Telamon. She's still an amateur poet, but her words about feeling restlessness and doubt, only for those feelings to be replaced by joy with the mere words of another, are clearly straight from the heart.

He rolls his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh gods, that's probably next, 'Lana. They're... a little obsessive over the import of the stars, and bloodlines, and..." He exhales. "Alright. They do have an excellent library though. I'm not going to start losing my temper. Yet."

Tel takes the poem from Pothy's beak gently, and begins studying it, smiling. He reads through to the end, before commenting, "You've got a better grasp of rhythm than I do. But... this is about when we met and connected, isn't it? Or is my ego getting in the way again?" He smiles at her, tenderly.

"So long as you get something good out of going, there's a reason to keep going, right?" Ravenstongue asks. "I'd go, but I have a feeling that they would pounce on me the moment they learn I have blood that glows in arcane sight--not to mention my descent from Grandfather." She shivers a little at the thought of being surrounded and analyzed like a curio by strange astrologers.

When Telamon reads the poem, Ravenstongue lets go of him to give him breathing room. She smiles as he gives his analysis of the poem. "It's that, and it's also how I felt at dinner the other night with Ari," she says. "Getting everything off my shoulders was... Well, it was a massive relief. Especially when she still approved of me afterwards."

Her voice softens a little as she looks away, still smiling, although she puts a finger to her eye to wipe away a tear that's welling up in it. "I'm still getting used to... Well, your family being so nice. Considering everything I've been through with mine."

Telamon sighs. "They are... a bit obsessive about bloodlines. On the upshot, they welcome sorcerers with open arms -- let's been honest, I've met a couple wizards who tend to look down their noses at people with 'talent' as father calls it." He looks rueful. "I imagine I'll only have to discourage a few of them from engaging in any foolishness."

He takes her hand, leading her to the couch, and sits down... tugging her down next to him. "I... I'm not going to say I never had any doubts, but the fact mother wanted to meet you was a good sign. I figured as long as there wasn't some disaster, like an invasion of zombies or angry slimes, we'd be all right." He strokes her cheek. "You... didn't have an easy go of it. I'm amazed it didn't make you bitter... but I'm glad it didn't, because knowing that makes me love you more. Knowing how strong you are."

"People find every reason they can to push others away. To hate other people. To make other people hurt. That goes for wizards putting sorcerers down for the origin of their talent, that goes for anyone who disparages us because we don't fit into their neat little boxes of 'elf' and 'human', and that goes for my father." Ravenstongue smiles a little as he strokes her cheek. She places her hand on top of his, seeming to just want his touch to linger there for a little while. "I could turn everything that's ever been said to me or done to me right back around on the people who have hurt me, and, honestly, it would be a justified if I did. I won't, because it would make me feel worse. That's not how my heart heals."

She squeezes his hand a little, smiling wider. "This is, though. Every day with you, I feel happier and happier."

Telamon leans in to kiss her briefly. "Then I am definitely not worried. Not about anything. We'll take it in stride, day by day." He settles his arm around her shoulders. "Although if anyone offers you an impertinence in front of me, well... I won't be pleased. At all."

He gives her a grin. "So, speaking of impertinences, a question. Are you wearing a new perfume, or using some kind of scented oil? I smell lavender -- I'm not objecting, but I only started noticing when we, ah, started spending time together."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'll absolutely be mad and upset if someone insults either of us," Ravenstongue says with a bit of a grin, "but I can't and won't dwell on it forever. Though if it's really bad, maybe I'll pull a Madame Sandy and just banish them from existence--once I learn how to do that."

She looks significantly more puzzled until Telamon mentions the exact smell. "Oh! I, umm--well, I've had that forever. My mother used to be kind of annoyed by the smell when I was little and I'd ask to sleep in her bed if I had a nightmare. She said my father had the exact same thing. I haven't asked Grandfather, but I think it's another sign of my fey ancestry."

Telamon playfully sniffs at her. "Like I said, not objecting in the slightest. It's actually kind of comforting -- kind of a 'tell', like having Pothy with you." He shakes his head. "I don't seem to have... well, scratch that. I do have at least one 'tell' but it's almost as subtle. My parents only noticed it when I started showing my talent."

He takes her hand, holding it, as he fixes his gaze on hers. "Watch my eyes," he instructs.

"Well, that's easy to do," Ravenstongue replies, grinning. "I could look into them forever."

"Oh brother," Pothy groans, and he flaps away from Ravenstongue to sit back on the table for more nuts. The lovebirds are free to do as they like.

But Ravenstongue really does look into them. "I've noticed that... Well, your eyes have stars in them. Is that what you mean?" she asks. "I always thought it was lovely.

Telamon nods. The longer she looks, the more it's clear. Flickering, glimmering stars -- like two tiny apertures into the night sky. "I should've expected you'd notice," he says with a grin. "But yes. I've heard of sorcerers with more... obvious tells, but honestly, I'm glad to have this one." He happily looks back into her eyes, though, completely ignoring Pothy's pithy commentary.

"Another question," he remarks. "I was... very impressed with your dress when mother visited. So was mother. Is there something we can get for Aryia as a thank you?"

"It's hard not to notice. When you helped me summon Grandfather, I remember seeing the stars in your eyes go crazy. I thought then that you had probably the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen." Ravenstongue smiles at him. "I know I said it at the dinner, but I think that's when I really did fall for you."

Her own eyes are not really that interesting compared to Telamon's, despite the obvious immediate eye color resemblance to her fey lord ancestor. They're the same, yet Grandfather's eyes are so often inscrutable and mercurial. Raven's eyes are hers, and they reflect her emotions so much more clearly.

Which is to say, she's looking at him in complete adoration.

Then the question dawns on her and she looks much more thoughtful. "Hmm. I really want to get her a gift, too. She hardly charged me much of anything for the dress. Maybe we could get her a really nice cake from one of Pothy's favorite bakeries?"

He's not used to the adoration. Interest, yes. Even, well, desire. But adoration? But... there it is. Even he can read it. And from his expression, she fascinates him as well. "I ... at first I thought you already had someone. I was used to being charming, flirting, the usual, but... then we kind of fell head over heels with each other." He blushes a bit. "I'm glad I wasn't completely dense."

Contemplating the answer, he hmms. "I would've said a bottle of good wine, but ...hm, I don't think she drinks spirits. So a cake might be better. I... don't think I know her as well as you do."

"One of us had to be at least not dense enough to recognize what was going on. Otherwise Grandfather might have eventually made me a cake with a message on it going, 'Cor'lana, my lovely child, you are a fool and you are in love with that man.'" Ravenstongue grins. "Thankfully you understood what I was saying."

She does think for a moment again. "Well, she does drink. I just don't know if she'd appreciate wine. Maybe I'll ask Seyardu--they've spent a lot of time together, so she'd be able to help us."

Pothy whistles. Ravenstongue catches it and snickers. "Pothy just said that I'm still a fool. Just the lovesick kind."

Telamon shakes a finger at Pothy. "Fool? Is that any way to talk to your mistress, Pothy? I'll grant 'lovestruck' though." He laughs softly, and hugs Raven close. "How is your Grandfather doing, anyways? I know he gets... antsy at times, although I think spending time with you is healing the wounds in his soul. I'm glad he approves of me. I don't even want to think about the troubles I'd have if I didn't."

He rubs his chin. "I hope father doesn't have a bad reaction to the news. Mother did say she'd break it to him first, but... he's an educated man. He's familiar with the Courts of the Fey." He squares his shoulders. "Cross that bridge when we get to it."

"He's doing okay," Ravenstongue says. She leans back into the couch, taking Telamon's hand and putting it in her lap with her own. "He mostly comes around to check on me for a bit at a time. He doesn't want to suffocate me now that you and I are living together--or make you feel uncomfortable. Honestly, I think he was just as surprised that I talked about it--and just as surprised that your mother seemed to be alright with the whole thing once I explained he wasn't going to come scoop me up as soon as the wedding vows are done."

Pothy whistles again. Ravenstongue blushes bright crimson. "Pothy! I'm not saying that to Tel," she complains. "Seriously, consider yourself lucky you can't hear him..."

She then seems to remember something. "Right! Aryia can hear Pothy. Neither of us have any clue why. Yet another mystery to solve."

Telamon nods. "That was... mother's concern. Strange relations are, well... human families, at least hers, just learn to deal with it. But she didn't want me to be suddenly separated from you. And I think once... well, when we're blessed with children, it'll also go a ways to help your Grandfather. You mentioned how he built a nursery he never got to see populated."

He's still blushing a bit. "But, that's something else for the future." He gives Pothy another look. "Wait, Aryia can understand him? But I can't..." His brows come together, in that way he has when he's presented with a puzzle. "I mean... it doesn't sound like a language to me. Just whistling. I wonder if it's like a messaging spell -- no, then I wouldn't even hear the noise. Hm."

Ravenstongue looks off to the kitchen window, as though expecting Grandfather to somehow show up all on his lonesome. A small smile spreads on her face. "He would absolutely love to see our children," she says. "I think that would make him happier than almost anything. I'll almost certainly be powerful enough to be able to summon him properly into this plane and simply go to his by then. I'm absolutely in no rush to have children--after all, I'm only turning twenty-one next month."

Uh-oh. Birthdays. Even Pothy looks up at Ravenstongue, his blue eyes twinkling. "Birthday!"

"That's right, it's your birthday, too," Ravenstongue says, looking over at Pothy for a moment before she looks back at Telamon. "Maybe you'll get lucky and Pothy will finally let you in on the loop somehow--Aryia and I were both confused about her being able to hear him. Suppose we'll have to do the research together."

Telamon grins. "Well, in his defense, Pothy can already talk to me. Somewhat. I don't mind him having a way to pass you info on the sly." He touches her shoulder, stroking. "You had to grow up a little faster than I did. Anything in particular you'd like for a birthday gift? I know surprises are fun, but sometimes it's better to ask. Nothing more inconvenient than getting a gift that's no good."

He leans over to kiss her cheek. "Yes, I suppose we will have to endure the indignity of doing research together. However will we cope with it?" He doesn't even try to make it plausible -- his grin and his dancing eyes make it impossible anyways.

Ravenstongue snuggles closer into Telamon, pushing her form into his as she puts her head on his shoulder. "Honestly? I really can't think of anything. Other than some way of easily going from here to Quelynos and vice-versa, but that's probably way too much to ask."

She looks up at him, her eyes full of adoration again. "I mean, just having this home with you is the biggest ask I could have. Maybe a birthday party with all of our friends?"

"Snacks," Pothy says.

Ravenstongue grins. "Yes, Pothy, and everyone will have to bring you snacks. That sounds like fun. Honestly... This will sound so sad, but it'd be my first real birthday party ever. So that is what I want."

Finally, she leans in and kisses his cheek in return before yawning a little. Whatever witty retort she had to the research has been eaten by the most profound spell of all: natural sleepiness. "Mmm, I think that's a good sign for me and Pothy to go to bed," she says.

Telamon obviously isn't going to pull away now, cuddling her close. "Well, the impossible just takes a little longer. It might not be this birthday though -- but maybe we can work something out." He brushes back an errant lock of her hair. "But... yes. If our positions were reversed I'm not sure I'd want anything else. Just... a home, and someone to share it with."

He gives the bird a wry grin. "Yes, including you, you bottomless pit. Come on, love. I think we both need our beds tonight. Tomorrow is another day -- even if we are still stuck in winter."