Feadril's Staff

Log Info

• Title: Feadril's Staff

• Emitter: Telamon

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

• Summary: Telamon is inspecting the staff that he summoned from the dream when Cor'lana comes home. They talk about the staff and the properties of items conjured from the dream, as well as theoretical connections to the fey from the dreaming world. Talk of theory turns to Cor'lana's eventful day and, eventually, the couple retire.

Lúpecyll-Atlon home, midday

With the weather outside being positively atrocious, it's a good time to devote oneself to new matters. Telamon is still... disturbed by what his dreaming mind pulled forth out of the dream, now laid across his knees as he studies it.

It's a staff. Presumably a wizard's staff, crafted of ironwood with a steel cap at one end, and a polished bronze head comprised of three concentric circles, all intersecting each other. A well-made staff, to be sure. But Telamon has only seen it in a book -- because it was destroyed, long before he was born. The staff of Feadril Atlon.

"Real and not real," he muses, sitting in the living room, studying the length of wood. "And yet," he trails his fingertips across the staff. "One could almost swear..."

With the opening of a door, Cor'lana walks back into the Lúpecyll-Atlon home, her nice deep violet cloak now bearing a small cut in it, and her hair a bit of a mess, but otherwise, she's fine--even as she mumbles quietly to herself. "... rats about this weather, people must be going nuts and that's why..."

She throws her cloak onto a cloak/coat-hook that's kept by the door for this occasion and sighs a little, clearing her mind (and the mental bond) of the irritation that's dogged her on her way home at the weather. The lady of the house is home, and she steps into the living room.

"Hi honey," Cor'lana greets Telamon with a smile. Then her violet eyes look down at the staff, and she lifts a brow. "Looking at the staff again?"

Telamon's head jerks up suddenly -- it's clear from the mental bond that he was lost in thought, his mind percolating. Granted, when Lana was worried or agitated his full attention was on her, and once the danger was past (and he was assured nothing was wrong) he returned to his study.

Still, she's home, and so he sets the staff up, resting it against the wall so he can stand and greet her. "Welcome home, love. Tea is on, and I got some of your favorite snacks out. Pothy was... a little twitchy, but I got him to calm down and nap a bit -- he wanted to go right out there, both of us, and just start laying waste to anyone involved." He grins. "I told him you had it under control."

He puts his arms around Lana, hugging her close. "But yes. I'm... well, a little weirded out ever since I drew it forth. But now I'm even more confused."

Cor'lana embraces Telamon, snuggling herself into the happy spot underneath his chin as per usual. Even post-nuptials, some things will never change, and this is one of them. "Both you and Pothy are so sweet," she says with a smile. "I'm just glad that we ended that as bloodlessly as we did."

She nuzzles into him for a moment before she pulls back just enough to look over at the staff. Her expression turns thoughtful. "I mean--it's sort of the reverse of what you do with the dream, right? This is, in the literal sense of the phrase, 'a dream come true'--a staff made in the dream and pulled out."

Judging from the warm feelings coming down the bond, Tel clearly appreciates Lana tucking in under his chin. Cuddling her, he nods, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head. "I'm glad you're all right. Guess the watch needs to start patrolling the market district a little more vigorously -- before we do it for them."

When Lana looks at the staff, Telamon heaves a sigh. "I... well, I didn't expect it to be Feadril's staff. That was the part that kind of put me off at first. But what I've seen of it is weirder. I tried using legend lore to divine any aspects of it -- I have no idea what powers Feadril's staff had, if any -- but the spell fizzled. Which... is very odd."

After a moment more of studying it, Cor'lana pulls herself out of Telamon's embrace and takes the staff, sitting down with it on the couch. "That seems to imply to me that it has no lore to impart, no story to tell," she says. "It's a facsimile of Feadril's staff."

Then she looks thoughtful, looking at Telamon. "This is going to sound incredibly obvious coming from me... but have you tried asking Feadril about it?"

Telamon grins suddenly. "Ah, I thought of that. But a simple facsimile wouldn't cause the spell to fizzle that way. It'd be like, oh, trying to use the spell on something without a history -- a common barrel." He gestures, and the teakettle comes floating out with a pair of mugs, as he leads Lana to the couch.

"As near as I can tell, the staff is... both real, and not real. It has some existence, but because it was created -- by my will, and the totem -- it's not quite 'there'. I've talked to you about shadow conjurations, and this feels very similar to that."

Cor'lana, of course, leans into Telamon as they're both on the couch together, because that, too, is like breathing for her. She still holds the staff in her hands. "Real and not real," she murmurs. "That... feels like how it felt when I made my blood pact with Grandfather. Real and not real. I am still not sure what was reality and what was not."

She examines the staff for a moment and holds it out to Telamon for him to take or put down somewhere. "Do we know of a fey connection to all of this? Wasn't there something to do with them when you went to Quelynos a while back with Dolan?"

Telamon takes the staff again. "I don't think there's a fey connection, but that doesn't rule it out." He pauses. "And to answer an earlier question, no, I haven't asked Feadril. I... it's a part of his life that absolutely fills him with shame, Lana. He's willing to give the benefit of his experience in academic matters, but... there's a reason he appears without his arm and leg. He gave up his magic to be free. I... don't want to rub that in his face."

He furrows his brow at the mention of Dolan. "That's something I need to discuss with Dolan. We tried manifesting... heh... a pair of boots at first. I wonder if he managed to come up with anything else? Regardless, it raises some interesting questions. The mess in Quelynos was... only tangentially related. It involved Ni'essa, and the Hound, but not the totems."

At this point, Cor'lana's head is on Telamon's shoulder as he explains everything at length. She gives a little hum in thought as she considers things. "He's your mentor, though," she says at last. "Feadril, that is. It's a painful question to ask, but I think if anyone would understand, it would be him."

Cor'lana pauses a little in thought. "... Truth be told, Tel. I've been wondering how I could help you and Dolan more. Do you think maybe I ought to find a totem of my own and help with the research? Or do you think I'm worrying too much?"

There's a twitch down the bond, but it's firmly smothered as Telamon's arm goes around her shoulders. "Let me continue working on it by myself. If I hit a dead end, though, I'll call to him and see what he can tell me." He kisses Lana softly on the cheek. "Promise."

At the mention of the totems, though, Telamon can't help but twitch again. Perhaps because of all the worry and danger associated with them. But he masters that too, and nods. "I... don't know how many are out there. Verna is planning an expedition to the Vast, and I'll be going -- so we may find one or more there." He looks at Lana. "I would warn you, but... well, you've been with me from the start of this, so you know as well as I do what these things represent." He smiles. "We really are stronger together, though."

There's a feeling of serenity that comes down the bond. (Peace,) Cor'lana thinks, and then she nuzzles closer into him. "We are," she says. "I'm not suggesting it lightly, as you know. I just... It's an odd thing, every time you've pulled me into the dream with you. I feel like I gravitate to manipulating the dream well."

She casts a look at the staff again. "Maybe it's just my nature as a dreamer in general," she says. "Someone who is used to wishing and hoping beyond hope for better things, and someone who now has almost all that I've ever dreamed of... Well, I mostly write poetry these days for a reason, you know? But I've wondered if my lineage had to do with it. Especially when Dace Zinskas mentioned that I was fey-blooded, and that it was dangerous for me to be there as a result."

Telamon regards the staff as well, his eyes tracing up to the curious, rings-within-rings headpiece. "Maybe. Hard to tell when they're serious, or when they're just lying to push you off base." His eyes flick to Lana's again, and a wry emotion filters down the bond. "I mean, it's not like I couldn't play those games too. I just really haven't had the opportunity. I still think 'Kol' is like this staff. Real and not real. Of course, the trick there is to talk at him long enough to start messing with his head."

A shiver, and a memory bubbles up -- of being seized by Kol and flung casually at Andelena while she tried to protect the horribly wounded Dolan. Then it suddenly blinks out, and Tel winces. "Sorry. You didn't need to see that, love. Suffice to say there's a reason I purchased a scroll of force-wall."

Cor'lana nods a little at Telamon's assessment of Kol, although there's a twinge of that fiery anger that Telamon's likely come to associate with her seeing loved ones being hurt at the memory of Kol catching Telamon and then throwing him. She closes her eys and nuzzles into him, and instead she thinks of... Pothy, splish-splashing in the bath. Jyndei, curled up on the couch and enjoying the sunbeams that come through the window. The anger calms down. "It's okay," she says. "I agree. Real but not real. I think you'd have to unmake him in the dream as I attempted to do with Dace Zinskas--if I had a totem, I might have been successful at it, too."

She opens her eyes and looks up at Telamon with a small smile. "Once I figured myself out in that dream--I really did feel powerful."

Telamon frowns, working the problem out in his head. "Maybe. Still, if we could keep him from harassing us when we're trying to use the totems... you know, that's probably the point." He laughs a bit. "He definitely doesn't want us figuring out more about the totems than we already know. So whenever we start waving one around he tries to jump us. Clever bastard. But I imagine if we all worked together..."

He looks back into Lana's eyes. "You are powerful, Lana. I know it's hard for both of us to accept but... we went from raw initiates to, well... where we are now. I find I have to keep my temper in check more than ever, and it's a damned good lesson in why magical power has to have some discipline with it."

"I realized earlier today how powerful I can be now," Cor'lana admits with a little smile. "Auranar complimented me on my spellwork. And... you know, a year ago, I don't think I would have been able to take those men on with just Auranar and myself."

It's her turn to lean in and kiss Telamon on the cheek. "You are part of the reason I strived to get better, you know," she says. "There's a part of me that strives to reach Mother's level, but... we walk the same path as sorcerers, and I could ask for no better walking companion."

Telamon sets the staff to one side, so he can put his arms around Lana fully. "I think your mother would be absolutely proud of you, to have come this far. And whatever lies on the road ahead..." He brushes back her hair. "We'll face it together."

Snuggling her close, before picking up a cup of tea and handing it to her. "Now... why don't you tell me what happened in the market district? You were out with Auranar, and some ruffians accosted you? I swear, some people have no sense of self-preservation. And it's not like it's the docks, for gods' sakes..."

Her hair is still a bit of a mess from the melee earlier--the well-defined waves that she normally wears have turned into the frizzier, looser waves that she normally only has when she's just woken up in Telamon's arms in the morning. Cor'lana takes her cup and frowns a little. "We were trying to walk to another shop to get out of the rain," she says. "These men accosted us, with their leader asking if we had coins for 'hungry boys'. I effectively told them to go away, and then they advanced on us--and one of them touched Auranar."

She takes a sip of her tea. "So I launched the one who was touching Auranar at the leader and things kicked off from there. One of them grabbed me by the hair, and then Auranar cast a brilliant spell that let me slip away from him. Then the last man remaining hit Auranar, and... Well, I made him forget who he even was." A huff. "I didn't want to wait for the Guard, because some of them could have come back to consciousness and decided on a second round of the melee. They were that stupid, and desperate."

He listens with a calm expression, but the bond proves the lie: his emotions flash with icy anger at anyone who would lay a hand on Auranar or Lana. A hard smile curves his lips when Lana tells him of how she robbed one of his mind, and he takes a deep breath. "And that is why I've been working on my discipline. Oh, you didn't do anything wrong -- but it'd be easy to lash out with magic and... well, make one hell of a mess."

Tel exhales, pushing the cold rage back. "At least you and Aura came out of it in one piece. I'm just... bemused. But then, it's been a long winter, and I imagine some people are willing to do anything for money. Or amusements."

"Oh trust me, I wanted to make a mess at first," Cor'lana says, "but I had to think about our reputation as adventurers. And the reputation of adventurers in general. "Sorceresses leave five bodies unrecognizable in the streets" is a headline the Tribune would print tens of thousands of copies for, and you and I both know it."

She smirks a little at the mention of amusements. "Fortunately, you and I are safe in our home," she says. "Just a newly-married couple with plenty of things to do, should we get snowed in, or if the weather is simply so dreadful neither of us can bear to go out. It's not the worst thing in the world."

Telamon grunts. "Still. A few object lessons might encourage the others to take up more constructive pursuits. I'm not saying we need to hang every thief we catch, gods no. But you know, if a couple got turned to stone and added to the decorative statues in the gardens, I wouldn't shed too many tears. Especially if they were like this lot that tried to manhandle you and Aura." He humphs, sounding like a put-upon nobleman.

But it doesn't last, especially when Lana points out they are married and have a nice safe place to go home to. He grins at her. "Hard to believe it's only been four months since we jumped the sword. Where does the time go?"

"Thieves, no. People who assault innocents, I would not shed a tear." Cor'lana smiles a little as she lifts up a hand to Telamon's face, cupping his cheek. "I have always admired your sense of righteousness, though."

And she leans in and kisses Telamon on the lips, just a little one for the moment. "Four months since we wedded--and a year and nearly two months since we became a couple to begin with. You know... There was a small part of me that began to say, 'you're going to marry him,' after that day on the bench in the Society courtyard. And it was just a nice thought that seemed out of the question--until you began to reciprocate that sentiment. And then I knew that was what I wanted so much after you said you loved me, too. That was why I was so happy when you proposed."

Telamon smiles at the kiss, returning it, before he replies. "I didn't come to Alexandria expecting to find love. I wanted to be a friend to all who were decent folk, no matter who they were. But... then I met you. And then I got caught up in trying to resolve things with Grandfather, and I knew I couldn't let you face it alone."

His eyes shine with starlight. "And then I realized, when Grandfather kind of nudged us together... I'd found something, something precious, and I didn't want to let go. And that was you, Lana." He hugs her tightly, drawing in the scent of lavender. "And now... you'll never be alone, and neither will I. We'll build a family to stand the test of time."

Cor'lana's violet eyes twinkle, although they are not filled with stars like Telamon's are. "And we already have such a family," she says. "Do you know how happy Auranar was at the idea that she could have tea parties with members of her family? She's never had a family to have tea parties with. And now, she gets to have that joy--because we've taken her in. And the children we have will know that joy--and will never know the suffering that their aunt Auranar had to know to get there."

She leans in and kisses Telamon on the chin in another affectionate gesture. "Which is why we will not be having children until after we retire."

Telamon laughs softly as well. "Aunt Auranar, aunt Verna, aunt Fizzy... a plethora of relations." He grins. "And I wouldn't have it any other way. But yes, when our footloose days of sticking our noses where they're not supposed to be are done... there will be children."

He nuzzles Lana happily, and then gets a mischievious expression on his face. A look that is completely spoiled by the bond, as he playfully remarks, "Of course... there's no reason we can't get in some practice first."

And that gets a fierce blush going on Cor'lana's cheeks. "No fair, you don't even have to take your shirt off in reality. You can just take your shirt off in the bond to get me all flustered," Cor'lana sighs. It's true, of course.

But then she grins widely at him. And there's an image that she knows will get him going the same way in the bond. "Two of us can play at that game, though."

So she gets up from the couch and walks over to the bedroom door with a wink. "Now, what were you saying about practice?"

Telamon checks to make sure there's a bowl of nuts for Pothy when he wakes up, before standing to follow. "Well, you know what I keep telling people. Practice makes perfect." He grins back at Lana, eyes twinkling. "And I don't know how you keep blushing like that. We've known each other how long?"

He laughs softly, and pushes the door open for her, letting her precede him into the bedroom before following. And then, firmly, he shuts the bedroom door.

Life goes on in the Lúpecyll-Atlon home.