Rainy Eliday Morning

Log Info

• Title: Rainy Eliday Morning

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's home

• Summary:

Lúpecyll-Atlon home, early morning.

The rain that falls down in a gentle pitter-patter on the rooftop and the windows of the Lúpecyll-Atlon home sets a sleepy mood for the Eliday morning... one that's felt by Cor'lana as she yawns and tries to blink away the dust of sleep from her eyes. Her customary morning cup of tea dangles from her hand, and there's a moment where she realizes it's about to fall and corrects herself, saving her night shirt and pajama shorts (which are a matching black-and-dark-blue polka-dot pattern) from the devastation of a stain and the burning of a hot drink.

"Need to brew some stronger tea," she murmurs to herself as she shuffles around in her fuzzy bear slippers out of the kitchen and into the living room. "I just about fell asleep standing up. I didn't think we stayed up that late last night..."

"We didn't. It's just been... busy of late." Telamon is wrapped in a fluffy dark green bathrobe and his own slippers, brewing a pot of coffee next. The unseen servant is cleaning up, as Tel continues, "I don't think either of us slept particularly well. Hopefully we can fix that tonight."

Once the coffee is brewed, he pours himself a cup, before following his lady love into the living room. Jyndei is sprawled over the back of the sofa, wings folded, dozing quietly. As Lana approaches, one eye opens, and the faerie dragon flicks his tail lazily.

Cor'lana sits down on the couch and smiles brightly as she looks at Jyndei, tilting her head to get a look at the little faerie dragon that's taken up residence in their house. "Morning, Jyndei. I hope I didn't wake you up too soon," she says. "Telamon here's a night owl, but he's getting married to me, so he can't complain too loudly."

She grins as she looks at Telamon. "Well, you know, I can't even remember what poem we left off on last night before I fell asleep. I don't even remember who fell asleep first. But someone put the book away on the nightstand at some point, so kudos to them for not breaking our books."

Telamon sits down next to Lana, reaching up to pet Jyndei as well. The little dragon yawns cutely, and makes a burbling sound before closing his eyes again, happily snoozing. "I think we were both a little knackered. Sometimes it happens. I... think I put the books away? Or did I dream that? I'm not sure."

"In any case, everything is back where it should be, and we're all here, happy and safe. That's the important thing." He leans close to kiss Lana's cheek, as Jyndei yawns again, and chirps, "It is different here, but I like it. The pixies are very nice. I will make sure to visit when I can, once I get home again."

Cor'lana's smile widens all the more as Telamon kisses her on the cheek, although she giggles a little. "It's too early in the morning to make me blush, Tel," she mock-complains, but her attention turns to the little faerie dragon slipping in and out of sleep. "Little Jyndei's trying to sleep, after all."

Cor'lana takes a sip of her tea and looks like she's realized something when there's a distinct tapping on the kitchen window. "Mmm, is that Grandfather?" she wonders aloud, and she rises from her spot on the couch to the kitchen. Indeed, Grandfather-bird is there, and Cor'lana opens the window to let him in.

He flies into the living room and forms into his most typical form, clapping his taloned hands together. "Telamon, good morning," he greets. Cor'lana returns to the living room, and Grandfather takes her up into a hug followed by a kiss planted somewhere in her hair. "And good morning to you, my lovely child."

"Good morning, Grandfather," Cor'lana giggles. She's put down onto the floor safely, and she returns to the couch to sit by Telamon's side.

Jyndei is no longer napping. Indeed, the little faerie dragon is now wide awake and alert, looking at Grandfather with those large eyes. "Greetings, Feathered One, He Who Carves His Own Lair." The last comes out in Draconic, not Sylvan. "You may call me Jyndei, and I came here through happenstance and error. I owe the lord and lady of this place a boon, and acknowledge it of my free will."

Telamon simply takes a sip of his coffee, as Grandfather makes his entrance. "Good morning, Grandfather," he says with a twinkle in his eye. "How's the weather out there? Is it still piddling down?" He grins. "If you like, there's tea and coffee on the stove, and I think we still have some muffins from breakfast.

Grandfather's violet eyes focus onto Jyndei. In fact, it becomes astonishingly clear very quickly that he'd registered Jyndei's presence in the room before he'd ever greeted Telamon and Cor'lana, as he shows no sign of surprise on his face when the little faerie dragon addresses him.

He smiles genially enough. On his lips, that is. His violet eyes, however, are full of a quiet menace in a way that he hardly ever demonstrates in front of Telamon and Cor'lana.

"Jyndei, small of dragon and humble of stature, you are acknowledged," he says in layered tones--smooth and rich silk laid on top of lethal steel. "As you are my dear child's welcomed guest and you acknowledge the oath you have to her and her consort, I have no quarrel with you. And I am certain you are aware of the consequences should you overstep on my dear child's boundaries."

And then he turns back to Telamon and he is all smiles again, taloned hands clasped together. "Muffins sound delightful, Telamon," he says, "although I was hoping that you hadn't had breakfast yet when I arrived. Perhaps I will stay long enough that I might cook lunch for you later? Perhaps after our discussions."

Cor'lana just smiles, although there's a slight twitch in her face as she witnesses the Unseelie side of her beloved Grandfather. "Discussions?" she asks. "I, err--I hope they're good ones."

Jyndei actually makes a little 'eep', and scrambles behind Telamon, peering over the half-elf's shoulder a bit nervously. Tel, for his part, gives Grandfather a long look. "I think you do need to remain and cook lunch, Grandfather. I can tell when you've been gone too long because you always get twitchy."

Telamon leans back a little, with the small dragon leaning on his shoulder. "Discussions, hm? Anything in particular? We've had our hands full with brewing strange wines, and stomping undead into ash and dust."

"Twitchy?" Grandfather says with a huff and a laugh, amused by the accusation as much as he is bemused. "I am merely only reminding the small one of the rules. But if being twitchy is a good reason for me to stay longer, then I'll accept the accusation and wear it on my brow." He moves into the kitchen to retrieve one of these fabled muffins leftover from breakfast.

Cor'lana snorts. "Tel's right," she says. "You should visit more often. Besides, Jyndei is a little faerie dragon who can hardly do either of us any harm. We're not talking about the Matron Mantidalia here."

"Don't spoil a perfectly good muffin by saying that name. Just thinking of her puts a tart taste on my tongue," Grandfather calls from the kitchen. He emerges with a blueberry muffin that is comically small as it's perched carefully between two of his massive talons. "See, it's even shrunk itself in sheer terror of her mention--ahh, I've gotten ahead of myself in the jesting. I came here for a primary discussion, in fact, vaguely related to the undead and... mm, perhaps related to your strange wines, depending on decisions made."

He nibbles at the muffin for a moment and nods approvingly. "A little dry, but good," he mutters, before continuing, "I propose that you have your wedding in Quelynos and jump over the matter of the undead altogether."

Telamon crooks a finger, sending the unseen servant off into the study. "An interesting idea, but... there are issues. The time displacement. Plus, there are guests who might be... less than comfortable in Quelynos. Then, of course, there's just getting there, which would require multiple plane shift spells."

Jyndei pipes up, "There was a Way to Quelynos in the deep woods outside of the city, but the forest princesses have closed it for now to prevent undead entering."

Tel nods, reaching up to pet Jyndei's head. "So yes. The idea isn't totally out of the question, but getting people there might be difficult." At this juncture, the unseen servant returns, toting a heavy book -- one that both Tel and RT have spent time poring over.

"Do you not know enough people who are able to shift planes? The spell of which you speak can push up to eight entities through realms--that's enough for you both, Pothy, and your bridal party, and I am sure there are others who are capable of casting the spell that you may invite as well if you wish to bring more guests." Grandfather seems rather insistent on the matter. "Time is..."

Cor'lana quirks her head as she looks at Grandfather. "We have time," she says. "Just because we're mortal doesn't mean that we're going to die soon. Tel and I can live for just shy of two centuries."

Grandfather frowns deeply. "That is... not long enough. It never is long enough," he says. "How long is this damnable thing with the undead going to last? I simply want to see the two of you happy." At this point, he seems to have forgotten the muffin.

But his sentiment gets a warm smile from Cor'lana. She gestures to the rocking chair in the corner. "Sit," she says. "Relax. And... let Telamon tell you about his new hobby. We have time."

"Honestly? Only two. We would like to have more than just a relative handful to witness our wedding." Telamon looks wry. "I understand why you are so intent, Grandfather, but unless you plan to lead a crusade from Quelynos to fell the Tyrant of Dragonier..." He spreads his hands. "It is infuriating. It infuriates me. All my power and I can only do so much to bring the day closer to myself and Lana."

He nods in agreement with Cor'lana. "Please, sit, let your soul be less lonely, Grandfather. I have been meaning to show this to you." The unseen servant glides over, bearing the book. "A friend of the family sold that to us recently. I... suspect the recipes to be originally of fey design -- there are quirks in the sildanyari which suggest some were translated from sylvan."

There's a dangerous glint in Grandfather's eyes for a moment as Telamon mentions a crusade, like he's actually thinking about it--but he sighs deeply and leans back into the rocker. "Many, many years ago, when I was rubbing elbows with others of my kind, I might have been better equipped to lead such a crusade," he says, "but then again, that was long before I met Cor'lana's grandmother and realized my sympathy for mortals--not to mention the others might have laughed at me for caring so deeply about a mortal plight to begin with. Much as I would love to, it is unrealistic for many reasons..."

His thoughts trail off as his violet eyes settle on the book of libations. Indeed, there's something that piques his interest as he looks at the tome itself, moreso than Telamon's words, and he plucks it carefully from the unseen servant. "That," he says, "is a book I have not seen in a very long time."

Cor'lana's settled back in now that Grandfather is placated, leaning into her fiance with a smile. "You're familiar with it?" she asks.

"Familiar with it? I had a copy in the original text," Grandfather says as he pages through the book. "I acquired it not long after your Grandmother began to live with me. This one that your translation here calls 'Daeus's Embrace', I made this one once and..."

He pauses for a moment as he looks at Telamon with a wry smile. "Well, my wife liked it. A little too much, in fact."

Cor'lana finds herself massaging her face. Her cheeks are red. "Spare us the details," she requests politely. Suddenly she understands what it's like to be Pothy.

Telamon covers his mouth, trying not to laugh at Lana's blush. "In defense, from the few we've managed to brew successfully, they've all been fairly good, if a little odd. But the way it's written is somewhat... oblique at times, so it's been something of an adventure to see what the results are next."

He chuckles softly, in spite of things, and places his hand on Lana's. "It's been a marvelous journey thus far. I find I'm partial to 'Night's Kiss' though, but that's no real surprise."

Grandfather looks at Cor'lana in a little bit of bafflement. "What do you mean? Your Grandmother simply got sick because she overdid it. I tucked her into bed and wished her a good night, and then I made her a drinker's remedy in the morning. That's all that happened. We were not lovers yet, although I do recall her confessing to me that I was the most..."

He catches himself, mostly as he looks at Cor'lana's expression go back from relief to flushed again. "Anyway," he says, looking back to Telamon, "yes, Night's Kiss is a good one. Try the... what was it... oh, the Feathered Friend one sometime. But yes, there's a reason they're written like that, you know--it's actually outlined in the preface."

Grandfather flips through the book... and then his brows furrow. He looks up at Telamon. "There's no preface," he says. "Did they really omit it? Hmph. I'll have to bring my copy if I can find it again. As I recall, one of my grandchildren many years ago borrowed it, and I'm not actually sure if he ever brought it back or not."

Cor'lana smiles--both at Grandfather's words about one of her ancestors, and Telamon's hand on hers. She leans her head onto Telamon's shoulder. "I like that one because it looks like Telamon's eyes," she admits, "and I like Daeus's Embrace because it reminds me of when Telamon and I first kissed. It's the same feeling."

Telamon grins. "As always, moderation is a good idea when imbibing. Especilly with strange, alchemically-potent liquors." He taps his fingertips together. "As noted, the text is pretty obviously a translation from sylvan to sildanyari. I could point out the distinctions, if I want to put you and Lana to sleep. The art of language can be a little dull sometimes."

At the mention of Feathered Friend, Tel nods. "That one took two tries. The first time... well, I did it wrong and it solidified into something like amber. Makes a nice paperweight though. Second time seems to be the charm. I'm also brewing something called 'Voice of the Brijidine', although I suspect that will be potent considering it calls for hot peppers in the recipe."

Grandfather continues to flip through the book and furrows his brow as he reaches the end. "This is an incomplete translation," he informs Telamon. "There should be more than this... I will have to find my copy for you now. I hope you didn't pay too much for this."

Cor'lana just waves Grandfather's concern away. "It was a modest price," she says. "Telamon wanted it, so I paid for it. Nothing is too much for my dear husband-to-be." She leans up and plants a kiss on Telamon's cheek.

Grandfather chuckles. "It can be difficult to make some of those recipes for the first time," he says. "My birds didn't particularly like that I was harassing them for their feathers, either. You're only on batch two, so I take it that Pothy still has all of his feathers?"

Cor'lana snickers. "Yes," she says. "He's just asleep in the study. Dreaming about... whatever Pothy dreams about. Probably my mother."

Telamon shakes his head. "Wasn't that expensive. It doesn't surprise me that it's incomplete. Books of lore often pass through many hands, and some hands are... less trustworthy than others. Sometimes edits are done with the best of intentions, but it's still a poor idea."

He pauses, and then snickers. "Sometimes I wonder if Costin Meadows deliberately wrote On Plants and Potion-Brewing that way, just to annoy censors. In any case... I accept your offer, Grandfather. Let me know if you have problems."

At the mention of Pothy, he adds, "Or he's dreaming of snacks. He does love his snacks."

Cor'lana snickers. "He does love his snacks," she says. "Maybe it's both and he's dreaming of my mother feeding him snacks. I could see that happening."

Grandfather nods genially, and then his gaze turns to Telamon--or more accurately, the little faerie dragon hiding behind him. "How did you come to have the small one in your home?" he asks. "There's a story there, I am certain."

"Oh gods," Cor'lana says with a giggle. "Do you want to tell the story, or should I, love?"

Telamon grins at Lana. "How about we go halfsies, darling? I'll start." Jyndei scrabbles down into Telamon's lap, and the half-elf begins petting the little faerie dragon, causing him to arch happily. "So as Jyndei noted, he came to pay respects to the dryads in the forests near Alexandria. Unfortunately, with the Dragonieri undead on the move, they had to close the path back to Quelynos."

"Jyndei eventually made his way to Alexandria proper, just in time to find the party being thrown at the Shining Chalice meeting hall a few nights back. So of course he decided to join in."

"And the poor little thing got caught inside of the Shining Chalice due to the wards," Cor'lana chimes in. "Nobody realized it until one of the Chalice members, Tomas, came in to tidy up and realized that a particular snack another Chalice member liked had gone missing."

Grandfather raises a brow. "What sort of snack?"

"Mountain oysters," she says, and then clarifies, "also known as bull testicles. These ones were pickled."

Grandfather has a rather nonchalant reaction. "I've tried them," he says. "They're not to my liking. The texture is offputting."

Cor'lana looks mildly green. "Wait, you've had them before? Do they have bulls in Quelynos?" she asks.

Grandfather rolls his eyes, still smiling. "Remember that I am fey, dear child, and inhibitions are few and far in between for my kind. Try everything once and you might discover that you like it. Now, don't tell me... They were missing because of the small one, weren't they?"

Before Telamon can respond, Jyndei chimes in, "I thought they would be good, but they were icky." The little faerie dragon squinches up his snout in an approximation of a child making a face.

"From what we gathered, Jyndei managed to pop the latch on the pantry and just grabbed the first jar he could find ... which was the, ah... 'oysters'." Telamon grins. "He sneaks back upstairs, but before he can replace the jar, Tomas came in to tidy up -- and while Tomas isn't a particularly experienced sorcerer, he still has 'the talent'. So Jyndei hid from him."

Tel's hands continue to pet Jyndei, soothing him. "He came out to find us when he heard us speaking in sylvan, though he was also able to detect the... fey scent? On Lana, and myself."

Cor'lana reaches down and pets Jyndei, too, going to scritch him right behind the wings--a rather difficult place to reach for an itch, making it one of the best spots to pet on a dragon. Theoretically. Even if it's a small faerie dragon.

"We offered him a spot here in our home," she says with a smile, "after we cleared up the situation at the Chalice, and now little Jyndei is here. He seems to have taken a shine to Telamon."

Grandfather regards the tiny faerie dragon for a moment, the violet eyes on the little creature again. "Hmm. Well, if you are going to be here for some time, I might as well ask for your likes and dislikes, small one."

"Eventually, he'll be headed home," Telamon says. "And he's taught me a simple ritual to contact him, on the off chance I need a favor." He looks wry. "Not sure what I might need, but it never hurts to have that option."

Jyndei makes a funny high pitched rumble that's the equivalent of a draconic purr, as Lana scritches that spot between his wings, the butterfly-like pinions opening on reflex. When he's addressed, Jyndei sits up on his haunches, and addresses Grandfather.

"I am a member of the Dragon Courts, noble lord. I enjoy the occasional prank, a good meal, and a warm place to sleep. I seek no dominion in this place and I wish no ill will."

Grandfather studies the faerie dragon a little more. And then... he nods. "Those are agreeable," he says. "In which case, if you are partial to a good meal, then perhaps you should also linger here for lunch."

He gets up from his rocking chair and places the book of libations down on the coffee table. "And neither of you should insist on helping," he says to Cor'lana and Telamon. "Just sit there and stare into each other's eyes. Maybe even contemplate giving me a grandchild."

"We aren't--" Cor'lana sputters with a sudden laugh and flushed cheeks. "Not right here and now on the couch! Especially not in front of little Jyndei!"

"Some of your ancestors were conceived on couches like yours, dear child--it's hardly shocking or scandalous. Old hat at this point, to borrow a mortal phrase," Grandfather quips as he goes into the kitchen. The fey lord begins to prepare a meal while Cor'lana just wrestles with the embarrassment.

"It's never boring around here, at least," she murmurs apologetically. "Sorry, Jyndei."

"Such is life in the Courts," Jyndei remarks. "He seems very... intent, though. Is there an inheritance involved?" The little dragon clambers back up and curls around Telamon's shoulders.

Telamon shakes his head. "No, Jyndei. Just a very old, lonely soul, who desires something to fill his days. Fortunately, Lana and I are in a position to salve that pain. For all his frustrations he does mean well, and he is absolutely devoted to Lana."

He smiles gently at Cor'lana, taking her hand. "He makes a good point. I know it irritates me to have to delay the wedding. I wonder... could we borrow the teleportation circles? I know they're prioritizing them for moving troops and adventurer teams, but surely we could use those to bring people to the Mythwood..."

Cor'lana ponders the notion, squeezing Telamon's hand as she thinks. "Well," she says, "I feel if we offer enough gold, they might let us through. With your silver tongue--okay, our silver tongues, I have to start acknowledging that we're both very persuasive when we want to be--we might be able to arrange it."

She smiles as she looks into Telamon's eyes--yes, she is taking at least one of Grandfather's suggestions as she'd already planned on doing it, anyway--and she says, "I don't mind waiting... But I also know that when it is finally official, it'll finally lodge firmly in all of my head and heart that you really are certain about me. Not that I don't believe you--it's just there's the teenage girl inside of me that believes I'm going to eventually wake up from the dream one day and be back in Rune with Pothy."

Cor'lana leans in and kisses Telamon on the cheek, taking care not to crowd Jyndei on Telamon's shoulder as she does so. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm ready, and I'm happy that you're so ready that you're eager to have it happen." She smiles warmly at him, her eyes looking like happy tears might well up in them at any moment.

Telamon opens his mouth to speak, but Jyndei actually beats him to it. "But it isn't a dream, lady Cor'lana," the dragon chirps. "I am very fond of being quiet, and watching. And I see the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him." Jyndei shakes out his wings a bit, as if shrugging his shoulders. "It will be a love story that will echo down generations, if it is properly recorded. I would like to take up that task if you would allow me."

Telamon kind of gapes at Jyndei, mouth working for a second, before he gets out something intelligible. "That's... very kind of you, Jyndei. I... never thought of myself as special, and I know Lana has sometimes felt the same way. But... I have no objection to our tale being remembered." His eyes glitter as he looks back at Lana. "What about you, love?"

Cor'lana's eyes sparkle as she looks at Jyndei, grinning from pointed to pointed ear as he suggests it. "I'd love that," she tells Jyndei. "It's a long story up to this point--but hopefully the rest of it, in the future yet to be written, will be even longer and even more enthralling."

She looks to Telamon and grins. "After all, I told Patch some of it--the portions including Grandfather, anyway--and she said it enthralling. She even called us a prince and princess tale."

Cor'lana smirks a little. "So I suppose, Jyndei, if you don't mind chronicling something like that, you're welcome to do so."

Telamon nods. "I think what might work best is if we sit down separately, Jyndei, and discuss our stories up to our meeting. Then tackle our 'shared tale', as it were, together. I'm sure there are things we've both forgotten that will be shaken loose by telling the story to you."

Jyndei nods. "Indeed! And how should I record this story? I will probably make the initial notes in Draconic, but I can translate it to Sildanyari or Sylvan easily."

"Probably Sylvan," Telamon says after a moment. "It's... the language I associate with us," he looks to Lana with a smile. "Because you were my teacher, and it's bound up in our relationship."

Cor'lana smiles widely at Telamon's decision. "Yes," she says. "Sylvan. After all, we are destined for Quelynos together--where our story will live on in the form of our children, and now with Jyndei's account."

She cuddles into Telamon and closes her eyes. The wait for Grandfather's food is bearable with him. Anything is bearable with him. "The waiting won't last forever," she murmurs as she finds herself dozing off a little on Telamon's shoulder.

In the kitchen, Grandfather sings to himself in Sylvan as he works a ladle in a pot, and all is right in the world. No wights, no werewolves, no Zalgiman, no fear, no pain, no sorrow. Only the promise of an enduring story still being written is here.