Solitude and Company with a Bottle of Wine

Log Info

• Title: Solitude and Company with a Bottle of Wine

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue's Apartment

• Summary: Telamon receives an unsigned letter telling him to go to Ravenstongue's apartment. He arrives, and the Feathered One is there, standing in the darkness all by his lonesome. He invites Telamon in and the two discuss the Feathered One's past and the nature of the Lúpecyll pact to give their firstborns up to him. The Feathered One reveals some emotional depth previously unseen to Telamon as he expresses regret and sorrow--but he recovers quickly, as is the mercurial nature of the fey. Ravenstongue comes home and the Feathered One clears out, allowing Telamon and Ravenstongue to enjoy each other's company for the evening.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- 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                       
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

A curious message found its way to Telamon this intensely cold day: a letter wrapped in a single roll of violet silk and two feathers reminiscent of the glossy black raven feathers. When unrolled, the letter had a finely-written message, the words written so delicately on the page that they were almost as thin as silk spun to the width of cobwebs: "Come to Cor'lana's apartment. The door will open for you. We have much to discuss."

Telamon has walked Ravenstongue home, so it's not hard to find. The door is closed, but Telamon will find that, as he approaches, the door silently swings open into pitch black.

Standing in the middle of the apartment is not a black raven with violet eyes known as Grandfather, but the Feathered One. The tall man offers Telamon a smile--but in the manner of fey creatures, it's not merely a smile. There's something dancing in his violet eyes that's inscrutable, especially as the gaze is the only light source in the dark of the apartment. "Come in," he says.

Well, this is awkward. Telamon is... well, he doesn't dislike Grandfather. But he's cautious. And knows enough to not play games with fey. Fleeing really isn't an option either. So he steps inside, regarding Grandfather with a steady gaze as he pushes the door shut behind him.

"I admit, I was half expecting the letter to be from her wastrel of a father." Telamon has opinions about the man, and while he won't speak them audibly in front of Raven, Grandfather's another story. "I admit to being wary, but I won't deny I'm rather relieved it's you instead."

The fey noble laughs, pressing his fingers--what passes for them, that is, as they are much more like monstrous clawed fingers--together at his waist in what amounts to a thoughtful pose. "You have no reason to fear me, Telamon, and I am glad that you do not fear that wretched arrangement of flesh and bones that we call Cor'lana's sire."

The Feathered One claps his hands together and a magic light fills the apartment, floating up to the ceiling. It appears Ravenstongue has furnished the space with a somewhat small couch and a large rocking chair surrounding a wooden table. There are bookshelves that seem somewhat empty, only containing a few books that appear to have something to do with the fey, judging by their titles. Boti's little wood carving of Pothy adorns one bookshelf. Another door leads into what one might assume to be the bedroom.

"Let's get to the root of why I called you here," the fey nobleman says as he eases his form into the rocking chair. He leans back, looking somewhat relaxed, before the expression falls into a much more sullen one. "I wanted to talk. Specifically, I wanted to talk about Cor'lana and your relationship with her, and what that might mean in the future regarding any offspring you might have. Furthermore, I wanted to give you the opportunity to ask me any questions. I do not intend to leave you in the dark as Cor'lana's father left her mother in the dark--so you might as well ask the source. I feel it is only fair."

Telamon slowly sits down on the couch, "I presume you mean the... pact, that bound her bloodline to you. That... had crossed my mind, though I had filed it under 'future worries'." A slight grin. "No point in borrowing trouble that hasn't arrived yet."

He cocks his head thoughtfully. "Though I cannot swear some would want me to try and renegotiate. Not being a party to the deal, I would at least want to know what it covered. When did her family seek out this contract?"

"It was never so formal as a contract," the Feathered One says. "It was an agreement between my descendants and I after my wife passed away. My wife had originally come to me from a village of elves who lived close to me. She came, if you would believe it, to lodge a complaint. I had lived for countless years before then, and while I had been content to cloister myself away from others, I had suddenly been gripped by..."

His great and terrible clawed hands go to his chest, looking as though he was about to claw and grab at his own skin to pull out his heart. His expression twists into that great and powerful grimace that Telamon had seen before when Ravenstongue first spoke to him in the woods and told him that he had made her lose her wits and her sleep. "A great and utterly inconsolable pain in my heart. A pain that would not be soothed. I began to wail, to scream, to sob. And my birds reflected that. That was what the elf village heard, and it disturbed them so that my future wife, the village leader's only daughter, came to tell me to, well, 'knock it off', as you might say. When I told her of my heart's pains, she told me it sounded like loneliness, and so she agreed to live with me and teach me about friendship."

The grimace on his face turns to a small smile of fondness. "It then turned into teaching me about love, as she confessed to me and I, too, told her I felt feelings for her I could not identify, so I would appreciate her lessons in the matter."

Who does that sound like?

"Ah, but to get back to the point." The Feathered One clears his throat. "After she passed on, and my children were living elsewhere, it was... not long until I felt the pains again. I was harvesting roses to make a flower wreath for my first granddaughter's wedding when I fell to the floor from the pain of loneliness again. So I sent for my grandchildren and it was deemed from that point, they would send one child to live with me--and once they passed, they would send another. They began to mark the children who were worthy of what they considered an honor with the curuchuil, so that I might call on them when it was time."

Telamon listens with a neutral expression, not interrupting. When Grandfather reaches the point, only then does he interject. "Interesting. Though surely the fey... ahh. I've tripped myself up here. Cor'lana told me you had withdrawn from the courts of the fey -- you had no peers to ask about such emotions and how to deal with them. And so it fell to your wife to teach... or perhaps, reteach the lesson." He steeples his fingers, unconsciously emulating his sire.

"And of course, because this was hardly a formalized arrangement, rumor could run wild about what happened to those who retired with you to Quelynos. Story becomes myth, myth becomes legend."

"You have it somewhat right," the Feathered One responds. "Before my wife, I couldn't count any one of the nobility as a true friend. They are all... backstabbers. More interested in themselves and in the superficial interests they keep, the stories they can spin about the pleasures they allow each other to indulge in. I was once the same, or aspired to be, until I saw how cruel they could be to each other, how lovers could turn so quickly into sworn enemies. All it took were words of temptation and the embraces of those that were not the people they were sworn to. That is why I withdrew from the Court."

He briefly takes a look around the room, his brow raising. "It's customary to serve guests food and drink, is it not? I believe Cor'lana has a bottle of mundane wine around here. I believe she mentioned something about saving it for a special occasion, but I'm sure she can simply get another." The Feathered One rises from the rocking chair and goes searching around in the back half of the room, where there appears to be a number of boxes containing a variety of fruits and vegetables--presumably snacks for Pothy or easy meals for Ravenstongue. It's somewhat comedic to see a bonafide member of fey nobility rifle through what's effectively the pantry.

"But yes, there was no formal arrangement," he says, raising his voice a bit over the din of rummaging about. "My descendants simply formed their own theories the further away it got, and... Well, I have my blame to play. I grieve for each member of my family that passes away in Quelynos, and I usually reach out for the next child only when I begin to feel the pain of loneliness set in again. And considering Cor'lana was den--"

He catches himself and pauses in both rummaging and speech. "Delayed. She was delayed. Not denied. I am not... owed anything, least of all, a person." It's a quiet voice. The reaffirmations of a troubled soul. The point of his prior sentence seems to be lost as he ruminates on his affirmation.

Telamon watches with interest. Also making a mental note to let Raven know she's down a bottle. "There are many tales about the casual cruelty that can be found in the courts," he remarks. "I'm sure some are exaggerated... but not all. Hence my initial... worry when you came on the scene."

He studies Grandfather as the fey lord rummages around, and picks up on the hitch in his sentence. "Far be it from me to try and read your thoughts, but it seems your need for a companion runs right up against your nature to not bind others to your will. Though I am not near as good at 'reading' people as some are."

There's a silence from the Feathered One, his back still turned to Telamon. Uncomfortably long and uncomfortably quiet, until his feathered shoulders heave a little, accompanied by the sounds of sniffling.

"You say you are not proficient, but I say you are, young Telamon," he says, still using the quiet voice--although his words are painted with the obvious ache of tears. "I do not wish to be bound to the Court, and they have, for the most part, left me alone. And yet I bound my wife to me. She never got to see her village again, even though she said she was more than happy to be with me, as crossing back from Quelynos can be perilous in terms of time. I bound all of those children to me, and while they lived happy lives--I often wondered if it was because they knew nothing else. I had raised them from babes. I had taken the life that they were meant to have, only because if I did not, I would go mad from the pain."

The clawed hands lift up. He stares down at them. "Cor'lana said to me that if she didn't know any better, she would think these were monster's hands. I laughed. But I agree. I am a monster."

Telamon sighs, rising to his feet. "Grandfather," he says with a hint of sternness, "do you think a monster would have the capacity to reflect on such things? To show regret? To wish to find a better path?" His voice is steady. "No, you are no monster. Fool? Hm. Perhaps. But fools are abundant in this world; you fit right in here."

He reaches into his tunic, withdrawing a cotton handkerchief, which he offers over the Feathered One's shoulder. "Come now. Dry your tears. There are... worse things than clawed hands. I've faced monsters that dallied in dead flesh and oruch seduced by the dreams of a dead god."

It's a long moment before the Feathered One slowly turns. There are tears running down his face, of course. He reaches for the handkerchief, but he seems to change his mind at the last moment and...

Well, he hugs Telamon. He's oddly cold to the touch, yet vaguely warm underneath the initial sensation--like one might expect from someone who has been out in the cold for a while and has only just come back inside to warm up. But it's a quick hug, thank the gods for that, and the Feathered One pulls away, finally taking the handkerchief and drying his eyes, although the handkerchief looks rather odd in the fey lord's claws.

"Sorry about that," he says, his voice now back to its normal volume and usual style of delivery. "It's... part of the loneliness. The doubt. The pain. Even being with Cor'lana through the messenger form is not a perfect fix, although I've taken my best care to not show Cor'lana that. I do not wish to pressure her into coming to Quelynos forever before she's truly ready."

He reaches down to one of the boxes and makes a pleased noise, then presents the bottle of wine. "Not that I had any doubts to your character before, but I think that demonstrated you are a fine match for her. Let me pour you a glass of this, shall we?" He even offers Telamon a smile, a strange and mercurial shift from who he was only moments before.

Telamon is a bit... startled by the hug. He doesn't stiffen up or anything but it's clear this was not the reaction he expected. Still... he adapts. "Maybe 'Lana and I need to turn our attention to your plight. I'm not the kind of man who enjoys seeing anyone in pain, let alone someone who I'll be related to via marriage."

Helpfully, he collects two glasses, setting them down on the table. "There's no way for you to leave Quelynos for good, and remain here on Aeryth, I presume?"

One might expect the Feathered One to go looking for an implement to open the wine bottle. He doesn't. He simply sticks one of those monstrous claws into the cork and pulls it out, shaking off the cork like one might shake the excess moisture off after washing hands. He pours a glass for Telamon and one for himself. "I've considered it," he says. "I am admittedly worried as to what might happen if the others find out I've gone and abandoned the nest. And... I am reluctant to. After all, my wife and my grandchildren are all buried there. If I leave, and the others find out, I'll have to deal with some Unseelie lout moving in and desecrating their graves in due time, I imagine."

He sighs. "I am not opposed to the idea of staying for longer periods of time, however. Cor'lana needs to grow stronger so she can conduct the summoning ritual on her own--or something needs to be arranged elsewhere. I use messengers because I cannot simply leave myself, after all."

Telamon picks up the glass, swirling the wine and inspecting it, taking a sniff. "I think I recognize this vintage. 'Lana has good taste." He takes a sip, dark eyes thoughtful. "That's... true. On all counts. It's hard enough leaving home when you're young and mortal; I can't imagine trying it if I was immortal and had many lifetimes spent in it." His brow furrows. "This is more than just an issue of the heart and mind. I..." A frustrated expression crosses his face. "I don't know enough. I'm not even sure if I'm asking the right questions, let alone finding the answers."

It's at this moment that a familiar voice can be heard on the other side of the door to the apartment: "Snacks!"

The door is locked and then unlocked, with Ravenstongue visibly puzzled as she opens the door and walks in until she sees the Feathered One and Telamon. "Oh gods! Tel! I had no clue you were going to be here!" she says, closing the door behind her. Pothy flies off her shoulder and lands right next to Telamon on the table, greeting him with a nod and a croak. Ravenstongue walks over and hugs Telamon, kissing him briefly. "Don't tell me Grandfather invited you here without even checking in with me--is that my 'I bought a house' celebration wine you're drinking?" She shoots Grandfather a bit of a questioning look, almost playfully accusatory.

Grandfather holds his hands up and smiles. "I had no idea you were saving it for that sort of occasion," he says. "Besides, the young man had to see the inside of your apartment eventually, and you can buy another."

Telamon immediately shifts gears, the irritation vanishing from his face as Raven and Pothy blow in. Turning to grin at her, he replies, "In his defense, I didn't know either. I'll pick you up one if you like." He slides his arm around Raven, hugging her to him. "He just wanted to talk. After all, you had to meet my father yesterday, seemed fair for me to have a heart-to-heart with Grandfather in turn." Letting Raven go, he reaches down to pet Pothy fondly. "Have you been keeping her safe, Pothy?"

Pothy answers affirmatively with a single pleased 'merp', purring as he usually does when Telamon dispenses affection to him.

"Don't worry about picking up another bottle. I'm sure Grandfather can pay for it," Ravenstongue says with a snicker. "Did you two have a nice conversation?"

"It was productive," Grandfather says, although his brow is raised from the implication that he's now on the hook for buying wine. "We were discussing the nature of the family agreement. Now, when do I get to meet Telamon's father?"

Ravenstongue blanches a little. "Umm. I don't know. I think, and forgive my phrasing, your father would probably run all the way back to the Mythwood, Tel--or at least, I would if I found out my son's new girlfriend has a fey lord for an ancestor and he's rather active in her life."

Telamon takes a LONG sip off his wineglass before raising his hand. "Yes, ah... let me broach the subject initially with him, before I throw him into the deep end of the lake. He's very well educated about the courts of the fey and I think just dropping in on him would... annoy him if nothing else."

He grins at Grandfather. "Let's be honest, there IS a reputation issue. However, he knows reputations can be... exaggerated. Blown out of proportion. Or even false. But he's used to dealing with oddities. Of course, you'll have to face a much more formidable figure eventually." His eyes twinkle. "My mother."

"If your mother is as formidable as Cor'lana's was, based on the brief moment where she attacked Glórenacil and I with magic and then wrenched little Cor'lana out of his hands, all while still recovering from childbirth, I certainly have to prepare for that." Grandfather even rubs at his cheek with those big claws, like he's still feeling the impact of a magic missile twenty years later.

"I have to admit, even I'm scared of talking to your mother," Ravenstongue says. She's smiling, but the fear is there in her voice. "I'm sure she expects... Well, only the best for her son. And I can't say I'm exactly from a happy family or from riches, though I certainly have made enough coin to live comfortably."

Telamon shakes his head. "'Lana, it's not about money. Family... yeah, but what she wants is for me to have the same happiness she does." He squares his shoulders. "Which is... pretty much what every parent wants for their child. Though she is... fairly passionate. I think that's what got father's attention."

He smiles. "Let it be. I mean, technically, am I not marrying into a noble line?" He offers his wineglass, still half full, to Raven. "Not bad for the son of an elven diplomat and a human trader."

"He's not wrong. He technically is," Grandfather replies with a small smirk. "Although you'd never be acknowledged as such in Quelynos. It's for the best, really--wouldn't want to test your relationship by cavorting with any of them."

Ravenstongue takes Telamon's glass. She doesn't even seem to think about the fact that he's been drinking from it and she puts it to her lips, drinking a fair amount before putting it back down. "Maybe we should finish off the bottle together," she suggests conspiratorially to Telamon.

The Feathered One smirks. He turns back into the more often-seen form of the Grandfather bird and flaps over to the door. "I do believe I'll leave you two to it, then," he says. "Pothy, don't interrupt their fun."

Telamon looks at Raven. "Well, it certainly wouldn't keep after being uncorked..." He smiles to Grandfather, and raises a hand in farewell. "Take care. We'll talk again about this, Grandfather." He takes Raven's hand, sitting down on the couch and drawing her down onto it as well. "So," he purrs with a grin. "How was your day, my dear?"

The apartment door opens with the aid of magic and Grandfather flies out, the door closing shut behind him. Pothy grumbles a little and flies over to a perch in the corner of the room, a makeshift nest made from what appears to be parchment paper and sticks. This appears to be where Pothy sleeps, proven correctly as Pothy begins to softly snore.

Ravenstongue cuddles up to Telamon, grinning at him. "Well, it was okay, but I think it's better now that it's just the two of us," she replies. Her violet eyes crinkle a little with her playful tone and smile.

Telamon brushes back a lock of her hair. "Yes. Your grandfather can be a little... hm. Overbearing isn't the right word. Intense? That's it." His arms around her, he chuckles. "He sent a letter asking me to come here, but he didn't sign it... and I half expected it to be your father trying some fool scheme. I was actually relieved to see Grandfather, claws and all."

"Grandfather's like me in a lot of ways," Ravenstongue says, almost giggling. "After all, I can be pretty intense, too. I am feytouched, after all." She leans in to kiss Telamon, a bit more of a proper one this time, just to prove the point. "Let's get to emptying that bottle. After all, I bought it intending to share it with you."

Telamon reaches for the bottle with a grin, after that kiss. "Well now, far be it from me to not listen..." He begins to fill the glasses again, looking into Raven's eyes. Letting himself get lost in them for a bit. "And then we can discuss the day... and decide what to do next." He winks with a sly smile.