A Castle for His Queen

Log Info

• Title: A Castle for His Queen

• Emitter: Telamon

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's home / magnificent mansion

• Summary: Telamon presents his wife with a birthday gift: a magnificent mansion made from a scroll scribed by Verna, styled to resemble a castle. Ravenstongue is awed, and the two walk around and admire the place before sitting down for a dinner. Despite all that's happening--they find the time to celebrate, and they find time for love.

Lúpecyll-Atlon home, early evening

One would expect there to be a certain tension in the household, what with a certain irritating werewolf sniffing around. The good news is, it's not that kind of tension. Just the worry that comes from playing a game and hoping your opponent hasn't got a better hand than you.

Which is why Telamon has decided it's time for Lana to receive a very special gift. It's not perfect, but then, neither is life. And he's done the best he can. Waiting for her to come home, his thoughts carefully ordered so that he doesn't spill the beans accidentally via their bond, he steps back to study the flickering shimmer in the hall between their bedroom and the study.

Satisfaction flows through the bond, as he murmurs, "Perfect." That done, he checks himself over, before waiting for his love to arrive.

And it's true, Cor'lana has been engaged in the careful sort of game that comes with following in her mother's footsteps, which means she arrives home and doffs the hood on the cloak that obscures her face--not that it would hide her from the werewolf, but it adds a certain mystique to the wolf's chase that she knows will only make him want her more. (I need to wash my wrists and my neck,) she thinks as she locks the door and puts the cloak away--the feeling of distaste in the bond like a particularly acidic fruit melting on the tongue. (I will be so glad for when I can throw that damnable perfume away.)

"I'm home, Tel!" she announces, turning her attention to the rest of the house. Smiling truly, too, as she is home, and here she can be her true self, not the disguise of sorts that she puts on to step out into the world.

"Welcome home, darling. I won't ask if you had fun swanning around -- I know you hate putting that dog's scent on you." Telamon approaches, taking her hands in his. Sympathy flows down the bond, and warmth. (I know you hate it. I hate it too. Which is why you're not cooking dinner, nor am I.)

There's a touch of mischievousness in the bond, as Telamon continues, "Go wash up, and then we're going some place very special. I think you'll appreciate it." He leans in and kisses her cheek. Regardless of the wolf's stink, he still loves her, unabashedly.

Cor'lana looks up at him with violet eyes that sparkle, and there's a moment where she wants, more than anything, to nuzzle into him and push her head underneath her husband's chin (as she pictures doing so in the bond), but she has one single thought: (Stinking dog.) "I do," she replies, drawing herself away reluctantly, walking in the direction of the water closet already. "Let me get it off me. We should be thankful it's not his true scent or I'd probably be soaking in a tub for hours to wash it off."

She steps in, and only a few moments later, she returns, having scrubbed her neck and her wrists down to take the scent off of her--only lavender, her lavender, remaining. "So, where are we going, my starborn king?" Cor'lana smiles brightly.

Telamon patiently waits, but he can't conceal the mischievousness, that little boy with the big grin still a part of him even through the years. Once she's returned, he takes her hand in his. "Well, queen of my heart, I figured we'd go some place a little different." He checks in the study -- there's a note on the desk just in case Pothy awakens before they return.

Then he leads her into the hall, and toward that shimmering in the air. Unhesitatingly, he steps through the wall and the shimmer, leading her onwards to...

...some place else, indeed.

The two stand before an elegant castle -- perhaps not as huge and grand as the one in Lana's dream, but crafted along the same lines. A sky full of stars overhead, with a moon like a silver lamp hanging there. The air is warm, like a pleasant spring evening, and the doors to the mansion stand open, attended by two translucent figures standing at attention.

"Every queen needs a castle, love, even if it's a humble one wrought by magic. Happy birthday, Cor'lana."

Cor'lana blinks just a couple of times--no, that's a lie, she blinks many times, her jaw dropping as she looks at this castle that's before herself and Telamon. "How?" she asks, looking to Telamon. "What spell did you use? I thought you couldn't teleport or conjure anything inside of the ward--"

She shakes her head and lets out a small giggle of glee, her eyes welling with tears. "Sorry, my magician's mind took over there first. By Vaire's verse, Tel... Wow. I'm going to have a hard time outdoing this for your birthday or our anniversary." She turns and reaches up on her tip-toes, kissing him on the lips.

"You can't," Telamon explains. "It's the same reason a bag of holding still works inside the ward. This is a 'pocket' dimension. You can't teleport in here, either, because the ward extends into it." He makes a wry face. "So no summoning or teleporting here."

He kisses her back, holding her close. "It's the magnificent mansion spell. Verna knew it, and scribed a scroll for me when I suggested it'd make a good birthday present." His eyes twinkle. "It'll also be good for private parties when there's so many of us crammed into the house together -- since it'll last over a full day, no worries about time restrictions."

As Telamon leads Lana into the castle-mansion, it's clear that while it was heavily inspired by Lana's dream, Telamon's touch was everywhere. The ceilings are high, painted with stars to mirror the night sky outside, and the walls are hung with tapestries depicting white ravens soaring around moons. "I remember you mentioned someone casting this when you were off on business. Something about Pothy causing trouble?"

Cor'lana's eyes twinkle back as she looks up at Telamon with his explanation, drawing back only to follow him in as he leads her. Gone are all thoughts of the wolf that has been the focus of their efforts in elimination, replaced only with wonder. "It's true," she says, "we could do so much with this."

Then her eyes sweep over the castle, looking at the stars in the ceiling with a particularly mesmerized feeling in the bond, an awed appreciation of all of the details he's put into this place. But then the question prompts her to bring her eyes back to him, and Cor'lana nods. "Farland, the Resurrectionist who was with us in the Felwood, cast the spell so we could rest there for the night. Pothy, unfortunately, was a rather rude guest and gorged himself on everything in the kitchen overnight, so we had a very light meal in the morning."

Telamon nods. "I've read stories about how a wizard might cast this in the middle of nowhere for his friends, so that they could rest undisturbed and enjoy a good meal." He makes a face. "Sadly, the wine vintages are.. well, they're not terrible, but they're kind of pedestrian. The food is good, though."

He blinks slowly at Lana's tale of Farland and Pothy's gluttony. "But... by the gods, the damned mansion can almost feed an army! Well, maybe not an army, but -- I know some of the more powerful wizards used it to help feed refugees during the Heth invasion. How did he...?" He looks even more flummoxed than Lana was at first sight of the mansion.

Cor'lana looks at Telamon. "It got worse, darling. He was full. And then he vomited rainbow-colored mana all over the floor. I cleaned it up because I didn't want anyone or anything to have to deal with it."

She sighs, but she also smiles at the memory of Pothy losing his midnight snack. "It was ridiculous," she says. "Needless to say, if we bring Pothy into this one--then we are not letting him feed on the food."

Then Cor'lana looks around the castle in curiosity. "You know," she says, "I know your castle is different from the one in my dream--but it feels like any minute, those three little girls are going to come around the corner, you know? Do you feel the same?"

"Ni'essa preserve us from voracious familiars," Telamon replies with a grin, as the two of them go up a flight of stairs. "I may modify the design to this place so it's hard to get into the pantries. I don't mind serving him a meal but we don't need rainbow decorations on the floors or walls."

The two step out onto a long balcony overlooking the grassy sward. Not far away can be seen the door that leads back to their house, and the stars twinkle overhead. Beyond the door, though, the world fades into a white fogbank. "Edge of the world, there. Supposedly there are powerful spells that let you craft more elaborate pocket dimensions, but I've yet to find more than vague descriptions."

His arm around Lana squeezes a bit. "I admit when I was done, I... half expected to hear those voices. I... want that, you know? I know we've discussed it and I accept it. But... it calls to me, and I yearn for it."

Cor'lana draws closer into Telamon as he squeezes her, and she rests her head on his shoulder. She sighs just a little in the way one does when content yet yearning, smiling despite the longing that she, too, bears. "I know," she says. "I think of them too. The little girls of a possible future. Sometimes I hear their laughter in my dreams, too--giggling, like they're playing a trick on me, but then they're not there at all and it was just the yearning of my head for them."

Her eyes survey the edge of the world, as Telamon calls it, and she closes her eyes, resting there on Telamon's shoulder. "You and I--we are becoming more, and more, and more with each passing day," she says. "As sorcerers, people who wield magic and weave it together. As people--and as two souls in true love."

Then there's a twinge of anxiety in the bond, the familiar twist of the knife that has been in Cor'lana's head since they embarked on this mission: the guilt, the trepidation of 'Death courts the wolf'. "You know I would not trade you for anything, right?" she asks tenderly.

His arm around her, squeezing gently again. A reminder. "I do not think we will be able to put it off for too long," he jokes. "Both of us are in love, both of us yearn to plant a new tree and watch it grow." He nuzzles her hair. "And to paint more of the landscape we dream of."

He senses the twinge, the pain in her, and looks down at her. "I know. The... bond can be a bit tricky to manage, but now I thank the gods you cast that spell, every day. Yes, it makes it near impossible to hide things from each other, but it also means we are open to each other, completely." He strokes her face. "If I fear, it is for your safety and well-being. I know this is hard on you. And to the hells with the totems -- if it becomes too much to bear, we will stop."

The comfort that Telamon brings is enough to put the pain and the twinge down, and it's enough for Cor'lana to smile again. "I know," she says. "I know, but this is part of what we do as adventurers. We can't just abandon the fight. Not when we've come so close. Not when people need us."

Cor'lana takes in a deep breath. "No, I can handle it," she insists, both to herself and to Telamon. "I am not just myself. I am the child of so many people who lived and died to get me here. I am the Feathered One's child. There's power that runs in my veins and there's magic that runs off my tongue and my hands. I am capable of so much."

In the bond, there's an image that crosses Cor'lana's mind: Zalgiman, dead on the ground before her, a bloodied dagger in her hand and a triumphant look on her face, holding a totem that is soon to be hers. "I promised I would unmake his world," she says aloud. "I had better follow through."

Telamon nods firmly. "I will not have you forced to do this. Whatever you desire, I am here with you, to support you every step." He kisses her again, quite soundly. After long moments, he smiles at her. "Now, let's set the unpleasantness behind for a time and go downstairs. There's a very nice dinner prepared in the elven style, and I'm curious to see how it turned out."

He looks into her eyes, and an image flickers from him to her: of Zalgiman dead, but with both of them clasping the dagger. And the single word: (Together.)

There's a grim sort of satisfaction in the bond as Cor'lana beholds that image, reflected by the little smile. (It's said over and over again by people that you shouldn't relish in death--but I will relish in his. Only a little, for I know what he would do to you if he could.)

Then she returns the kiss that he plants on her, and her eyes twinkle, putting the unpleasantness out of mind. Instead, she thinks of food. Telamon sees... well, himself, in the way that Cor'lana sees him, which is that he is her everything, as he and her sit together at the dining table of their home, sharing a meal--even though such little attention is paid to the food that one might think that Cor'lana views her husband as the meal. (And they might not be wrong.) "Let's go," she agrees with a smile. "Lead the way for me, my starborn king."

And so Telamon takes her hand, leading her back down into the castle-mansion. The floor plan is fairly straightforward -- no need for the intricacies that reflect a true defensible construction. And soon, they come to the double doors that swing open.

The dining room... might be a tad overdone. It's dominated by a heavy oaken table that looks familiar -- it's modeled off the one in his family home in Ylvaliel. Six chairs to a side, though only two places are set. Large glassy globes hanging overhead like moons shed a soft glow over the furnishings, and more of those strange, translucent servitors stand at the ready.

"If you're curious: they're like unseen servants," Telamon remarks, pointing to one of the servitors. "Except, of course, they're not invisible and anyone can command them. I wish I could remove them from the mansion but alas -- part of the furnishings."

"Oh! That reminds me. You can't take anything with you from here, except for a full belly. I tested that."

Cor'lana snickers with Telamon's last remark, and while the room might be overdone, she's clearly appreciating it anyway. Her eyes sparkle, and there's a sense of excitement as she looks at the oaken table in the center. "Maybe we'll have to build a place like this someday--somewhere," she says, looking at Telamon with a grin. "Or simply just fix it permanently with the permanency spell I have in place. We'd have to find a way to child-proof it in a few years, however--can you imagine? One of our little girls stumbling in here, and we'd realize she was lost and go sick looking for her."

She's smiling, but then she thinks about it a little more and there is a feeling of fear--picturing one of those little girls in the dream being lost and all alone in the mansion. "Nevermind, that's not nearly so funny when I think about it," she says, dismissing the image. "I'm looking forward to this food."

"Indeed, but... I don't think I'd be playing with magic a lot while the girls were young. As they got older -- especially if one or more developed the talent -- then yes. Relax, love." Telamon walks her to her chair, and pulls it out for her. Once she's seated, he takes his place next to her, not across. "I think I may add a smaller dining room for just us," he muses. "This thing is ridiculous with only two people."

He gestures to the servants, and they troop out silently, to return with pitchers of water and a bottle of wine, which they pour for the couple. Then the soup course, a vegetable and herb soup with fresh bread. "A question, as we get started. Have Verna and Auranar expressed any interest in moving in with us, or us with them? I'm all right either way, but I was thinking about it on my way back. Personally I suspect Verna prefers a bit more privacy, and the answer is 'no', but I wondered if she'd said anything to you about it?"

Telamon's question draws Cor'lana's curiosity, raising a brow. "No," she says, her eyes flickering down to the table as an invisible servant places the soup down in front of her. She finds herself murmuring a thank you even if the servant is not really sentient, per se, as that's the way she's always been. "I must admit that I'm... a little reluctant to share our space with another couple, even if that couple is part of our family. Verna did indicate that she would ward her house better to prevent what happened to Auranar from happening again. And from what I understand--Verna built that home herself, so I don't think they'll simply up and abandon it."

She breaks open the fresh bread, and there's a little smile that plays across her face as it steams a little, quite fresh and fragrant. "Call me selfish, love, or even a fool--even if the castle was large, I'm not sure I'd want to have anyone living in it besides us or our children. Maybe that's just my more introverted nature coming to play--you seem to always gain more energy for socializing when you're around others, after all, and I spend all of mine by being around people who aren't you."

A sip of the wine draws a faint frown. "Better than last time. I need to consult some books. Or just bring our own bottles." Telamon picks up his spoon, sampling the soup next, and nods in pleasure at the taste. "I thought as much. I'm used to having people underfoot -- and being underfoot. But I can also understand the need for privacy and even solitude. So long as Verna and Auranar understand our door is always open to them."

He pauses, then chuckles. "Then again, our door is open to a lot of people these days. Oh well, I wouldn't have it any other way. Friends and family make life so much more fun." He looks thoughtfully at the bread. "This really is a complex spell. I wonder how it was originally developed?"

As Cor'lana takes her glass and sips her wine, there's certainly a thoughtful look on her face with Telamon's remarks. When she finishes her sip, she says, "I am continuously reminded you and I--we had very different upbringings, different ways of looking at the world, and that is no shame at all. You bring a perspective that complements mine." Her free hand reaches out across the table for him to hold, even though it impedes a little with the dining process--but that appears to bother her little. They do, after all, have all night.

"Invented the way all spells are invented, I suppose," Cor'lana replies thoughtfully. "Either out of necessity or by sheer accident, a miracle of its own accord. Like I was." She sips her soup and nods, pleased with the taste like her husband.

The soup is excellent, and soon the dishes are whisked away for the next course, a still-steaming roasted chicken brought out on a platter. "Still, I wonder. Conjurations can be fickle things. Might be worth researching, if only for insights into my own casting." The translucent servitor brandishes a knife, and deftly begins carving the chicken, spooning vegetables and slabs of meat onto the couple's plates.

Tel squeezes her hand. "I mean, it's not like finding out how it works will make it vanish. I'm just curious, I suppose. Like a cat." He pauses, and chuckles. "Which reminds me, how is Verna and Auranar's cat?"

Cor'lana seems rather gladdened that she doesn't have to do the carving of the chicken, mostly because the process in the kitchen usually involves Pothy's supervision and jokes made at his expense, such as threatening to carve him like the chicken if he doesn't wait patiently. She takes her plate and begins to eat with her free hand, as the other is currently occupied with the matter of affection.

She finishes a bite when Telamon asks the question, and Cor'lana smiles. "Hunter? He's very cute, but he will bite and nibble your fingers if you let him. I think I prefer white raven familiars."

Telamon chuckles at that. "Yes, I've heard that's an issue with kittens. They want to play, as I understand it, but unless you have a thick hide you may wind up with scratches and nicks. Once they get older they calm down a bit, but always instructive to remember they have five pointy ends."

He chews thoughtfully at the chicken. "This is good. I should compliment the chef -- if there is one." He looks at Lana again. "I might look at getting a dog once we settle down -- a cat would drive poor Pothy to distraction. Even if the cat understood that Pothy isn't a snack, the cat might think it's funny to stalk the poor fellow."

Cor'lana grins at the idea of a puppy for Pothy. "Honestly, I know the idea of a dog is tempting, but considering how often Tanith appears at our house? She might bully the dog in addition to Pothy. And, well, I'm not about to tell her no. Neither of us would."

And, well, she does actually eat quite quickly, finishing her plate--a thing she does not always manage, but is usually a sign of compliment to the chef, although, as Telamon pointed out, there might not really be one. "Is there a dessert course?" she asks Telamon. And there's an impish little smile on her face.

"Very true. I hadn't thought of that." He sighs. "I told you what we found when we went to Quelynos, too. And love, honest to Ni'essa, she may have left the footprint we found in the Jungle of Dreams." Telamon sits back as he finishes his course as well. "Well, she's not a bad guest. I might ask her to be gentler with Pothy." He looks wry. "I don't think I can tell her to stop."

At the mention of desserts, the doors swing open and... a large dish comes out, with two spoons in it. Inside is what appears to be three scoops of iced cream, with sweet caramel sauce drizzled over the scoops, in a long dish. A banana is split lengthwise and cradles the iced cream, and the whole thing is covered in nuts. Telamon blinks at it. "...Alright, that's new."

There is a thought that crosses Cor'lana's mind as she looks at the banana-dessert treat. She looks up at Telamon and... Well, what comes across her mind is a lewd suggestion of images.

"That wasn't the banana I had in mind," she says.

...

And then she can't hold in the laughter, brought to tears by her own joke. "That one was awful," she says. "Shall we finish this and... oh, I don't know, see if there's a palatial bedroom in this castle?"