Bond of the Mind

Log Info

• Title: Bond of the Mind

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

• Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon have followed up on one of their ideas to thwart various threats to their lives by acquiring a permanent telepathic bond. First, the telepathic bond is cast from a scroll, and then Ravenstongue fixes the spell into permanency with her magic. The couple revel in their newfound bond before they realize a little too late that the faerie dragon can hear everything in their heads.

Lúpecyll-Atlon home, noon.

There is something happening in the study room.

For a day like today--a miserable day where all in the sky is gray and cloudy, where all in the air outside is damp and cold--the thought of being stuck inside is a small comfort. For Cor'lana and Telamon Lúpecyll-Atlon, it's the perfect excuse to carry out what has been planned. The furniture in the study has all been pushed in and rearranged, and an ample circle of diamond dust has been drawn around the pair.

Cor'lana stands in the circle, holding a scroll in her arms. She wears her adventuring outfit, just in the event something goes terribly wrong, which makes her look all the more like a striking sorceress--and really, she is. She takes a sharp breath in and smiles at Telamon. "Alright," she says. "Last chance to back out. You'll know my every thought, and I'll know yours--and when I cast the permanency spell, it'll be like that forever or until it's dispelled."

She eyes the healthy amount of diamond dust on the floor. "Which I hope it won't be. This is a bit expensive."

Telamon has been very, very careful not to disturb the circle. "No kidding. I know sustaining a spell can be pricey, but..." He's dressed in a ruffled silk shirt over leather trousers, but all his 'adventuring equipment' is worn as well. Just in case. "But no. I'm not backing out. You and me, Lana. Through all the storms."

He reaches out to touch her cheek, his eyes full of warmth. "It's going to take getting used to, but I think we'll manage. Besides, I can't think of anyone else I'd want to share all my thoughts with."

Cor'lana's eyes sparkle as Telamon touches her cheek, nuzzling into it and putting her hand on top of his. "Maybe once I hear all of your thoughts, I'll understand more fully my appeal to you."

... And then a blush crawls onto her face. "And you'll have to deal with me screaming in my head a little every time you take your shirt off, but I don't think you'll tire of that."

She pulls her hand away and takes hold of the scroll more firmly. "Alright. I think I'm ready. Shall we?"

Telamon laughs softly. "If you can deal with me being distracted every time I look at you, sounds fair." His starry eyes meet hers, and he straightens up. "Alright. Yes. Let's stop putting things off." He calls out to the living room, "Jyndei, you keeping an eye out?"

A small orange head pops around the door frame. "Yes, my lord and lady. You may proceed unhindered." As the faerie dragon heads back to his perch, Tel grins. "He's a really good lookout. I'd recommend him to the Watch but I don't think they're ready for faerie guards yet." He takes a deep breath. "Go ahead and start casting."

Cor'lana grins. "I don't think the Watch would know what to do with him," she says. "Poor little Jyndei would likely starve for lack of treats." It's important that she doesn't say snacks. Pothy's occupied in the kitchen, and he does not need to be summoned.

She turns back to Telamon and nods, taking another breath. In.... Out.

"Alright," she says. She unfolds the scroll. She murmurs the incantations written on it, each word thrumming with magical power, and with the final syllable, she looks up at Telamon--

(Telamon, is this working? I sure hope it worked.) Cor'lana's voice comes in like a cerebral way--like the thoughts that some people have are said in their own voice in their mind, but another voice has joined the chorus. It's also accompanied by an external sense of anxiety--somehow Telamon knows that isn't his, but hers, like it's background noise.

There's a flicker of resonance -- something with the curuchuil, perhaps adding to the spell -- as Telamon relaxes and tries to remain focused for Lana to complete the incantation. Once it's done though... there's that sense of a presence. Like when one knows someone else is in the room with them, but it's in their head.

A rush of odd, shimmering thoughts, before it coalesces and focuses. (I think it worked.) For all his own impulsive tendencies, Tel's mind has some surprising clarity. Excitement starts to build up in the background. (This is definitely different. But it feels... natural?)

Cor'lana smiles widely as she looks at Telamon. (Yes. Yes!) The excitement builds on her end of the bond, too--and Telamon experiences what it's like to be feytouched in a whole different way. It goes from just a tiny drop of emotion to a river so, so quickly. Her violet eyes reflect this, as she takes his hands. (It's working! I can hear you, and I can feel what you feel! I love you so much!)

The last thought had come so quickly that it's obviously the truth--and it's accompanied with a flush of warmth in the emotional channel, too, the excitement tinged with her affection for him. But then it's dampened a little: (Umm. Oops, I said that. Thought that. ... Wait, why am I embarrassed? You're my husband! OH GODS YOU'RE MY HUSBAND.)

Yup, it's back in full force. It's gone from embarrassment, which is a feeling like crawling on the ground like a worm, back to the warm excitement. (Sorry! I know it's been two months, but I still can't believe it! Oh no. You're going to find out I can never stop thinking about that!) Embarrassment again.

Telamon reels slightly under the rush of emotion, though he surfaces from it swiftly. His amusement is like a rain of falling stars, and his love like the shine of the moon on a still lake surface. Holding her hands in his, as he sends back to her. (Don't be embarrassed, love. I feel the same way. Look--)

It's very strange, seeing herself as he does, but she can sense the ever-blazing happiness and wonder when he does -- the knowledge that she's his, and he's hers. (I knew you felt the same. I always knew. That's what makes it so wonderful.) His own thoughts are just as mercurial as hers, but seem to move in different currents.

The flush of Telamon's emotions and love for her... Well, that gets a predictable reaction out of her. It's almost an overload of joy from Cor'lana's end of the connection, the sort that easily moves one to tears--and that's precisely what happens, as Cor'lana's violet eyes brim up with tears, and she just shoves herself underneath Telamon's chin.

(It is wonderful. I just. I love you so much, Tel. I knew you loved me, I really did, but now I really, really know.) Even her thoughts are wobbling from her joyful tears. (I don't know what I did to deserve this, but--)

There's brief flashes of pain and sadness in the emotional bond, brief glimpses of images and sounds from Cor'lana's past. Children jeering at her when she was small, tiny hands clutching Pothy and asking why people were so mean, writing words of despair on journal pages, then Nadina smiling as she begins to unravel--

(No, no, that's all behind me.) Cor'lana's voice is strong, cutting through the images and sounds like a knife. They're pushed away, replaced by the warmth and the joy again. The image of the curuchuil mark surfaces. (You are my present and my future. Which means...)

Cor'lana pulls away from Telamon and smiles. "Time for the next part," she says aloud. "Making it permanent."

He takes the initiative, and pours his own emotions and memories down the bond, helping to bury those sad thoughts. Culminating in the crystal-clear memory of their marriage. (You will never face these memories alone again, Lana.) Telamon's own mental voice doesn't so much purge those bitter memories as force them down, strip them of power. (They'll be part of you, but they won't own you.)

Once the last pain and sadness has been soothed, he kisses her brow, before stepping back. "Agreed. Don't want to wait too long, or we'll have to recast the bond again." His eyes twinkle at her, cheerful, and down the link is a warm sense of confidence. He's confident in her. He knows she can do this -- heck, he's looking forward to learning from her.

(I am stronger. Not entirely because of you, but I am stronger for having you in my life.) Cor'lana's words are delivered with conviction, the warmth and joy in the emotions almost set aflame with the fervor of her confidence mingling with his.

Then she takes a breath. She gives the scroll a gentle toss off to the side, as she doesn't need it, and then she lifts her hands. She closes her eyes...

And Telamon hears, for the first time, how magic works for his bride.

(I am Cor'lana Lúpecyll, daughter of Nadina Branfeax, inheritor of Apotheosis--)

(I am Nadina's daughter--)

(I am Apotheosis's holder--)

(I am Nadina--)

(I am my ancestors--)

(My ancestors are me--)

(I AM APOTHEOSIS)

A chorus of voices that ring out in a simultaneous chord that intensifies. They are all Cor'lana--but they're also not. Nadina's voice and Pothy's voice can be plucked out from the chorus, but there are the faint echoes of other inheritors.

Then as the inheritor chorus holds the last note, Cor'lana's voice comes out on top.

(I am permanent. I fix my will to this world. I fix this spell into place and make it so. This telepathic bond I keep will forever hold until the day it is undone!)

The diamond dust is consumed, as magic erupts from Cor'lana--

And then all is as it was. Cor'lana takes a deep breath, and she smiles.

(That wasn't so bad.)

Telamon perceives the magic, the whirling mana, not just from his own senses but from Cor'lana's perspective as well. He's disciplined enough to not interrupt, but there's that sense of fascination from his perspective, of wonder. He's learning something new and he always enjoys that.

As the diamond dust is consumed and he feels the spell lock into place, Telamon's mind flickers down the link, a bit of impish humor. (Now wait just a minute here, love. You can't be 'Cor'lana Lúpecyll' any more. You're Cor'lana Lúpecyll-Atlon.) He takes her in his arms, hugging her. (In all seriousness, though -- well done.)

The feeling of embarrassment crawls through the link again, and Cor'lana grins bashfully. "It works either way," she says out loud. Then, in the mental link: (I just stumbled on that one. Both are true--it's just 'Lúpecyll' is my past, and 'Lúpecyll-Atlon' is my present and my future. Although I did go by 'Lana Branfeax' for most of my childhood.)

She hugs Telamon back tighter, the feeling of accomplishment underscoring the warmth and affection from her end of the bond now. "Should probably tell Jyndei that it all went well," she says out loud again.

Telamon cuddles her under his chin happily, radiating love and warmth. (I'm teasing you, love. It's all right. That was very different from how I do it.) He looks thoughtful. (I think I'll have to work on it, but I can probably do the same thing. But it'll have to be filtered through my own, well, talent.)

"Absolutely," he replies. "Alright, Jyndei, we're done!"

The little orange head pops around the doorjamb again, and Jyndei pipes up, "Excellent, my lord and lady. I presume from your smiles that nothing went awry? Good, good. The fixing of a spell is no small matter -- I applaud your skill and abilities."

Cor'lana turns to face Jyndei and smiles brightly. There's the flush something resembling embarrassment in the bond, but it's quickly apparent it's bashfulness. "Well," she says, "I have a lot of help there, in a way. My sorcerous abilities are unique like that."

She looks up at Telamon. (I have to admit, I'm curious to experience how spellcasting feels for you with the bond.) Her eyes twinkle brightly.

It's that point where Pothy comes flying in from the kitchen and lands on the chair that Telamon often uses when he's at the desk. "So, you did it," he says. "Good for you!"

Telamon puts his arm around Cor'lana, hugging her to him. "Definitely unique, but aren't we all?" He nuzzles her happily, and mentally replies, (I wonder what we'll learn from each other like this? This definitely wasn't covered in any of the books I read.)

When Pothy alights on the chair, Tel reaches over with his free hand to scritch the white raven. "She's learned a lot from you, Pothy. You should be proud of her -- a successful student is the mark of a successful teacher."

"I don't think I've done much in that regard," Pothy says, his tail feathers happily wagging up and down as he's pet. "Lana has done the work on her own. Every inheritor does things a little differently compared to the last, and I'm sure whoever the next inheritor will be will experience it as well."

Cor'lana looks thoughtful. Through the bond, the thoughtfulness is rendered as calm. "That might be one of our daughters," she says. "Or one of their children. All I know is that I'm not passing it down like how my mother did."

(Not just magic, either,) Cor'lana thinks. (Things that one of us knows how to do, but not the other--oh, how we can help each other! It'll be interesting!) Excitement again.

Telamon nods to Lana. "We'll work on it. The two of us, well... I think between the two of us we can find a way." He smiles at Lana happily, and nods to Pothy. "Talent is always a tricky thing, and it's hard to teach. I ran into that with Auranar, though I think I've got her moving in the right direction now." He looks bemused. "I... never thought of myself as a mentor."

Down the link, there's a frisson of uncertainty, the rare hiccup that occasionally rattles Tel's intense confidence. Still, the contact seems to shore him up, and he responds to Lana mentally. (We're never going to be able to play pocket again,) he jokes. (I don't think I can bluff you with this link. But yes... we'll be able to guide each other, even when we're apart.)

(Neither of us would be able to play pocket, no,) Cor'lana responds, amusement springing up in the bond like a patch of little flowers. (And I think you make a fabulous teacher anyway, Tel. You've certainly taught me a lot.)

Then she grins, and there's... an image that comes down the line that one might associate with pickpocket. (We can't play pocket anymore, but I think there's other games we can play with each other.)

Pothy, blissfully unaware of all of this, calls, "Well, I have more snacks in the kitchen if you want to share, Jyndei!" to his fine dragon friend. He flaps back out of the room, leaving Cor'lana and Telamon alone.

Jyndei withdraws as well, though there's a knowing look in the dragon's eyes. And then Jyndei's voice comes into their heads, an entirely different 'voice' from his usual squeaky tones. (Don't forget others may be able to speak mind-to-mind as well, my lord and lady.) The tone is teasing, as the little dragon follows Pothy.

Telamon looks bug-eyed as Jyndei departs, and then blushes a bit. (Hell. I didn't know faerie dragons could speak mentally. Sheesh.) Then Lana projects something down the bond that makes him flush again, and then he laughs softly. (And you. You're as bad as he is.) He sweeps Lana up his arms, and kisses her. (Alright, all work and no play makes us dull people. So let's fix that.)

And life goes on in the Lúpecyll-Atlon home.