Go On, My Love
Log Info
- Title: Go On, My Love
- Emitter: Ravenstongue
- Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon
- Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house / Library of Apotheosis / the Conduit
- Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon take another inner dream walk to the Library of Apotheosis, the place in Ravenstongue's dreams that contains all of Pothy's knowledge as well as the echo of Ravenstongue's departed mother, Nadina. Ravenstongue and Telamon ask Nadina for her help in giving them information about her former lover, who they are trying to track down. Nadina walks them through some of her memories and eventually, once Telamon presses, reveals more of her motivation for why she lived her life the way she did. Telamon and RT seem ready to depart the library when they are informed that there's another location inside the dreaming mind of Ravenstongue that they can visit: a place that Pothy calls the Conduit. Telamon and Ravenstongue decide to visit and learn that the Conduit is the unconscious representation of Ravenstongue's blood pact, a sort of place that she goes to unconsciously when she draws on the powers granted to her by her blood pact. Once Telamon and Ravenstongue are done, they awaken in the real world.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- 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 -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Nadina Branfeax 5'4" ?* Human Female Enchanting blue-eyed beauty with raven black hair. The Feathered One 6'0" ?? Lb Fey Male A tall fey man with violet eyes and a primal appearance. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- *"No, you still don't get to know. We discussed this last time, honey." - Nadina Branfeax
"Go on, go on, go on my love,
Go into the quiet and peace of night
And take flight on your white wings
And may you leave me, my true love."
--A fragment of a Sildanyari folk song, translated into tradespeak by an unknown bard.
- Lúpecyll-Atlon home, morning.
This is almost entirely too beautiful of a day for an inner dream walk, but there's an important mission at hand. At least, so it seems from the very focused gaze that Cor'lana has as she prepares the bedroom for another dream walk. She hasn't bothered changing out of her nightgown yet, as she's about to go back to bed, after all. "Pothy, you better let mom know that we're coming to the library," she says. "We'll need her help."
"Nadi knows already," Pothy complains in his boyish voice. "You know she sees everything through my eyes, right?"
"Yes, but I'm telling you that so she knows to be awake and greet us there when we're there," Cor'lana replies, fluffing out a pillow. Might as well make the bed comfortable while Telamon gets the alchemy side of things ready.
After a few times, it's not that hard. Measure out the potion, make sure it hasn't gone bad (easily discerned with detect magic), check the doors to make sure they're locked, check the warding -- thankfully not as involved as the dream-walks out to the Watcher's abode.
Telamon finally steps into the bedroom, bearing a trio of vials. "Alright, I think we're ready. I... hope she'll be reasonable. This is... well, it's important. Maybe not as much to us, but I think it would be important to Luthel."
"She's my mother," Cor'lana replies with a smile as she sets the pillow back down on the bed. "I can get her to reason with us. Besides, she isn't feytouched, like I am--so I think we'll be okay. If anyone might be unreasonable, it might be me on account of how emotional I get."
"You sure do get emotional, crybaby," Pothy responds, followed by a little boyish snicker. "I'm just glad that Tel can finally hear me outside of the dreaming! Granted, you do have to cast a spell, but you could always do what Nadi did and have someone make it permanent on you."
The fluffy white raven flaps over to his traditional dream walk spot between Telamon and Cor'lana's pillows, and Cor'lana pats him on his little head. "I think it's drinky-drink time, Pothy," she says, looking up at Telamon with a smile. She holds her hand out for one of the vials. "Off and away we go?"
Telamon passes out the vials -- two to Cor'lana (one for her, one for Pothy) before setting the tray down and picking his up. "It's very strange," he comments. "I mean, I can hear the whistling still, but it resolves into language in my head. This spell is just plain weird." He grins at Pothy. "Still, it only lasts a little over an hour. Plenty of time for you to get your insults off."
Teasing done, he uncaps his vial and swallows the contents in one go. "Blah," he remarks on the potion's taste, setting the vial on the table. "One day. Potions that don't taste like someone soaked the bar rag in the catch-basin for the kegs..." He lies down, resting his head on the pillow. "Up, up, and away," he says with a smile.
"Why would I insult you?" Pothy says, quirking his head. "You give me snacks! You give me pats on the head! Sure, sometimes you do really dumb things to defend Lana, and seeing you make out on the couch with her got old really quick--but sometimes you leave soup mugs behind. So I'll tolerate it."
A glare. "For now--"
Then the potion vial is uncorked and Cor'lana tilts it towards Pothy's beak as it's open mid-speech. "Okaaaay, night-night!" she says, grinning a little too widely about giving it to him right after his comment about their intimate acts.
"B-B-B-BLECH!" Pothy sputters, followed by a cough. "Centuries! Eons! And none of you people have figured out how to make these taste good? I'm..."
Pothy yawns as Cor'lana takes her own potion dose and lies down on the bed, resting on her own pillow. She holds her hand out for Telamon to take and smiles. "Up, down, wherever... So long as it's with you," she says dreamily, her eyes fluttering with the weight of sleep.
Telamon can't help but chuckle, his fingers slipping around Cor'lana's. "Always with you, Lana." His own eyes are drifting shut, but he's still smiling. Were Cor'lana and Pothy still awake they would see that smile continue even as he drifts into slumber. Into dreams.
Dreaming...
He can feel himself falling, knowing they're being drawn into the library. But even as he does, he can still feel the warm hand in his, the reminder that she's there with him.
The world fades. Consciousness drifts and gives way in that gentle way that it always does--the waking mind bending itself as it ducks underneath a low passageway and finds itself transformed into the sleeping mind, which operates on its own rules of logic, will, and whim.
There's the cloudy sky again, sun perched where it ought to be. The bookshelves rise up from the stone floor, and Pothy flaps his wings to rest on a bookshelf.
And Cor'lana stands in the middle of the library. She wears a different dress this time--a feather cloak much like the Feathered One adorns her shoulders, and a low-cut blue and violet dress flows down to the ground as it hugs her petite form, the fabric trailing a good two feet behind her. Her raven black hair is loose and flowing down in waves, and a circlet rests on her head. She looks for all the world like a fey princess.
"Well, this is new?" Cor'lana remarks as she looks down at herself--and blushes as she realizes that the entirety of her curuchuil mark, as well as a bit more skin than she's used to baring, is out on display. "Oh. Wow, okay. I, uh... Pothy, you don't have wind in this library, right?"
"Of course not," Pothy replies, preening his feathers. "It would be bad for the books. Besides, I'm pretty sure you can't have a fashion incident in a dream unless you dream yourself having one."
Telamon looks different too. He's dressed in what looks like his ruffled white blouse, with black trousers and boots, with a black jacket over it. But the jacket and trousers seem to sparkle... like there are tiny stars imbedded in the fabric. His hair, too, looks peculiar for a moment... floating ever so slightly, like he's underwater, or in a place where gravity no longer /quite/ holds sway.
Tel looks down at himself, bemused, before looking at Lana again -- and then he blushes, ever so slightly. "It's definitely daring for you, but I do like it." He grins, eyes sparkling, before he turns his eyes to Pothy. "Alright. I guess... we look for memories of Luthel. Maybe the last one -- when he tracked Nadina down?"
Cor'lana looks back at Telamon and smiles, still blushing. "You're looking pretty handsome, yourself," she says. "Maybe we need to talk to Aryia about recreating these in reality... If possible."
"Probably should. She makes good work," calls out a familiar voice.
Cor'lana turns off to the side, where the voice came from, and Nadina Branfeax grins as she looks at the two half-elves. "You wanted me awake, so here I am, honey. You look splendid--although I would have gone even lower on the neckline, myself, but not everyone shares my inclination to run to danger like he's an old lover."
Of course, this makes Cor'lana's eyes bead up with tears as she grins and walks over to tightly, tightly hug Nadina. "Mom, I'm so happy to see you... You probably know already, right? Why we're here?"
Nadina pats down her daughter's hair. "Of course I do, silly girl. That handsome man of yours found that ring. As Pothy said, I see everything through his eyes. And I don't mind showing you what happened. I've never subscribed to 'don't kiss and tell'--I've found you end up getting more kisses from others when they know you aren't some inexperienced little maiden."
Telamon peers at the sleeves of his jacket. "I'm trying to figure out how the sparkles got into this outfit. I look like I cut sections of the night sky out and sewed them into garments." At the sound of Nadina's voice, he looks up with a welcoming smile.
"Lana does what she likes, I've found. And while I've certainly no objection... that's her choice, not mine. And I prefer it that way." He steps over next to Cor'lana and Nadina, smiling down at his lady before looking to Nadina again.
"But yes. We found the ring -- Pothy had it, gods know how he hung onto it -- and, well... we'd like to contact him, give the man some closure. From our conversation with Addy, I think he's still carrying a torch, or maybe just still hanging onto the memory, if his habit of going out with her father and getting blind drunk every year or two is any indication."
GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive+3: (4)+12+3: 19
There's... something a little curious in Nadina's face as Telamon informs her of Luthel's drinking habits. The woman is difficult to read in general--she is, after all, an echo of a person, especially one who was so gifted at speaking to other people that she certainly was practiced in carrying herself a certain way--but there is the slightest twinge in her face.
"Luthel," Nadina says carefully, "was... Mmm. He wanted to be special. And I kept going back and forth on whether or not I wanted him to be that special to me. But it probably makes more sense to show you."
She snaps her fingers, and the library fades. Cor'lana almost jumps a little in surprise. "You didn't pull a book off the shelf," she mutters.
Nadina smiles coyly as a new environment boils into view around them: a dark pub in the middle of nowhere, seasoned adventurers all carousing and drinking. "Darling, I am the books."
Every single person in the room looks like they're up for a fight at a moment's notice, but are choosing instead to indulge in revelry. And there's Nadina, who looks almost identical to the echo that stands with Cor'lana and Telamon nearby. There's even Pothy on her shoulder, who looks positively uncomfortable with the situation. Young Nadina's sitting at a table when the man next to her slides his arm down her back to paw at her backside--
And the man is rewarded for it by a sharp glare from Nadina's eyes, a murmur of magic--and he's turned into a tiny, tiny lizard, maybe an inch long from tail to head.
"Now you match the size of your tool, prick. Ask me first and maybe I would have said yes," young Nadina growls.
"Ahh, ma'am--I'm sorry, I was about to ask if he was bothering you," an elven man asks as he approaches her. The man is not overly tall--he's Telamon's height--and his sandy-blond hair is tied back into a tight warrior's bun. He's dressed in more fashionable clothes, but his physique is clearly that of an adventuring warrior, as his black tunic almost clings to his muscular frame. "Clearly, though, you took care of that."
"Clearly I did," young Nadina replies, smiling. "You can take his place if you'd like. I'd enjoy some company that asked before they put their hands on me, and you look easy on the eyes."
The volume of the scene before them hushes as the echo of Nadina speaks. "That was how we met," she says. "I'll spare you the red pages, of course, but we spent the night together, and in the morning..."
The scene changes to the same pub, but with the morning rays of light peeking through the windows. Young Nadina and the elf man are dining over breakfast. "I suppose I should introduce myself," she says. "I am Nadina Branfeax. Sorceress and inheritor of Apotheosis."
Pothy looks absolutely tired, but manages a single "merp," in greeting. The elven man laughs. "Yes, well, normally I ask names but you were... unusually insistent about getting upstairs," he replies. "I am Luthel. I have a little adventuring party and we call ourselves the Silver Ravens--which, well, your friend there caught my eye, and I intended to come up to you and ask and... Well, you know."
Telamon watches the scene play out, snorting as Nadina polymorphs the handsy fellow. "There's always some fool who doesn't grasp that just because something's pretty, doesn't mean it's weak or fragile." He dryly looks at Nadina. "Did you change him back, eventually?"
He taps his chin, thinking. "The Silver Ravens. I remember hearing -something- but... no, that was the Stalking Ravens, they were a group of undead hunters. It was one of my first diplomatic jobs; they'd collected an elven artifact and the Mythwood was negotiating to get it back. Thankfully it worked out."
He walks around Luthel, getting a good look at him. "Yeah. I admit I'm a little jealous. This guy's proof that elves can be well muscled." He smirks. "In any case... it seems he's got good manners to back it up. Always a good sign."
"I think I let the spell last for about ten minutes or so or so before I dropped it," the echo of Nadina replies with a smirk. "I had my head focused on other matters shortly afterwards, courtesy of Luthel."
Cor'lana thinks about that for a moment. And then she blanches, a disgusted expression finding her face. "Eww! Mom!"
Nadina laughs. "Oh, it was a joke, darling. I wanted to see if you'd catch the joke. After all, you're not a dense maiden anymore."
She turns her attention back to the scene playing before them. "Luthel was... very kind. Very strong. And he protected me just as fervently as he protected the others."
The scene changes again. It's a cavern, dark, cold, damp, and tightly wound together in a way that just feels oppressive--and there's the sound of combat. Young Nadina screams as an undead creature, skin thinly covering sinew and bone, lunges at her from an unseen crevice in the wall. But Luthel charges forward, the creature hitting his large tower shield before he throws it off and onto the ground--followed by the quick plunge of his glowing sword through the creature's torso, pinning it through the ground. "Down!" he demands of the undead.
"Not that I liked playing damsel in distress if I could help it," the echo of Nadina says as the group watches Luthel quietly embraces her younger self and calms her down, "but... there were moments where he showed he cared. It made me realize that most adventuring partners I'd bedded to that point had seen me mostly as a source of stress relief and pleasure in addition to simply being the woman who ensured they got out alive. Which, I fully admit, I was using them too for that, too--but it was... an interesting realization."
Cor'lana looks at Nadina. "That you could be loved instead of used."
Nadina presses her lips together into a line for a moment. "...Yes," she says. "But I never wanted to commit to the reverse--loving instead of using. Until the moment I had you, Cor'lana, I had such a hard time with the concept of love. I never wanted to..."
She falls silent.
"You lived life pretty much for the moment." Telamon's voice is kind, not reproachful. "Still, though... weren't there practical aspects to it? I mean, Luthel seems to be a decent sort." His lips quirk. "He wouldn't be unwelcome at the Atlon family table."
His eyes move to Nadina's. "I wonder. Did you think you weren't worthy of it? That somehow, you wouldn't measure up? Because I've felt like that, a couple times. I wonder how I could have -ever- fallen into this rosebush, become Lana's friend and then lover and husband-to-be." His hand is in Lana's, but the other reaches out to touch Nadina's. "Because whatever your flaws, he clearly thought you were worth it."
Nadina looks at Telamon with those blue eyes of hers that glow--especially here in the dark light of the caverns. They burn with their own magic sight, and yet the emotion inside is...
Hollow.
"Truth be told, Telamon," she says, quietly, "I struggled, constantly, with a sense of purpose. I lived every day like it was my last before I had Cor'lana, and it was because at some point when I was young, I realized I had no purpose--and I resented being the inheritor. Of having this... mantle of knowledge-seeking thrust onto me from a young age, of being expected to be this great and powerful scholar-sorcerer. My father died when I was a child, and my mother was so ruined by his passing that she felt... emotionally unavailable. That was why she dropped me off with my father's parents so often. She couldn't handle caring for me and her baking business. And my cousin Gerald--Addy's father--he tried to be a big brother for me. But there was something deep within me that I couldn't fill, no matter how hard I tried. That's why I ran from home and became an adventurer. That's why I eventually started taking 'lovers' that I didn't love so freely. It was all... something to distract me from that feeling of incompletion."
She smirks a little, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Sometimes they called me Nadina the Heartbreaker, or Nadina the Heartless. I always preferred the Heartless because they had no clue how right they were--I felt like I didn't have one, even if I did have a moral code and never harmed anyone innocent of wrongdoing."
She takes Telamon's hand, finally. She is warm, just as before when Telamon last held her hand, despite the lack of light in the cold cavern around them.
Behind them, Luthel and Nadina kiss. "I love you," Luthel confesses to Nadina.
And... the younger Nadina nods. "I know," she replies. Tears are in her eyes--who knows if it's from the shock of almost being murdered by undead or if it's from that hollow heart that she has.
The echo of the older Nadina turns her head away from the scene. "I wanted to, in some way, return his love. There would have been no better person. But... there was something broken within me. Something that felt I couldn't. And even if I wanted to, I was scared."
Telamon bears up under that gaze. There's gentleness and sadness in his eyes. "You say you had a hollow heart, but if that was true, Cor'lana wouldn't have meant anything to you. You would've left her with Gerald, or Luthel, and continued on."
He squeezes Nadina's hand gently. "Because those hollow pursuits can be comforting, even if they're empty. Lana and I talked about becoming... well, together. And I remarked on how -frightening- it was, and yet exhilarating as well. Like leaping off a precipice, trusting to your magic to carry you into the skies."
He looks at Luthel and young-Nadina, his face pensive. "I could've wound up like you, I think. I wasn't an outright heartbreaker, but I was happy to flirt, to tease, to steal kisses and dances. But when I met Cor'lana, it was like... a door opened up, and all I had to do was step through." He smiles. "And being the impulsive young fellow I was, I did."
"Many people do things like that, Telamon," Nadina replies, gently. "Everyone has their things that they do to chase away the feelings of incompletion, to chase away yearning for more than what they have. For some, that feeling is worse than others... And I was one of them."
The scene fades away. Now it's back to the nursery that Telamon and Cor'lana have seen before: the little room in that house, in a village somewhere in Rune. There's a little girl with her black hair braided into small twin braids sleeping in her crib, covered by a blue blanket.
And Nadina walks to the crib. She pulls little Cor'lana out of it, the little girl remaining asleep in her arms. Apparently, little Lana was a pretty sleepy baby.
"Just as Lana was your door, she was mine," Nadina says, looking down at the little child in her arms. "When I held you for the first time, Lana, my heart also felt full for the first time. I knew then and there that you were my purpose, Lana--that I existed for you, that I existed because of you, and that I would do anything for you."
The little baby girl stirs a little in Nadina's arms. "Mama," she murmurs sleepily.
And Nadina leans down and kisses her little daughter. "That was your first word," she says. "Mama. And..."
Tears fall down her cheeks as she smiles so, so widely. "I cried back then, too, of course. How could I not?"
Telamon reaches out to put his arm around Cor'lana's shoulders. Holding her, just as Nadina holds baby-Cor'lana. "Sometimes, the danger is that you accidentally chase away what might fill that incompleteness. I'm glad I didn't."
Holding Lana close for a moment, he straightens his shoulders. "Nadina... we will most likely find Luthel. My cousin is in the Mythwood militia; he's probably looking for him now." His eyes meet hers. "Is there anything you want us to tell him? I don't want to hurt him. Or you. But... sometimes a story needs an ending."
Cor'lana, of course, is tearing up, too. She's been quiet for a long while, perhaps just content to let Telamon and Nadina talk... or maybe that she's simply been thinking. She leans back into Telamon's arms and closes her eyes, the tears running down her face and dripping off her chin onto Telamon's arms.
Nadina leans down and puts baby Cor'lana back into the crib. The scene fades away again into white--just an empty, yawning eternity of the lack of color, only light. Nadina dries her own eyes for a moment before she addresses Telamon again.
"There's... a number of things," she says, contemplating her words partway through. "If I could see Luthel again, I would want to tell him..."
She pauses again before she sighs, folding her arms with the motion. "I ought to show you our last meeting. Gather my thoughts a bit more."
Back to Rune again--the little village, the little house in the village where Cor'lana grew up--
(where Cor'lana made her own prison, curled up in her room as she clutched her head and cried--)
(where Cor'lana watched her mother die, Nadina disappearing into mana before her eyes--)
--images flashing of other memories, other moments from Nadina and Cor'lana's shared memories. "Pothy does not often have to record two inheritors' lives at once," Nadina explains, "and it gets... a little hairy, at times."
Then it finally lands with Nadina and Luthel in what appears to be the living room of the home. Nadina is holding Cor'lana in her arms. The little girl is dressed in a tiny, tiny blue dress, and Pothy is sitting on a stack of books, eating from a bowl of nuts that's been placed next to him. (Some things never change.)
Luthel is looking at Nadina, arms crossed over his muscular chest. "... I'm going to be honest, Nadina," he says, his brows furrowed in concern. "I don't know how long you can run or how long you can hide. The fey... They're... My people revere and fear them for a reason. Eventually, he'll find you. That man, Glórenacil--he'll find you, too. And while I could find Glórenacil and run my sword through his guts--I get the inclination that would only serve to make his master even more vengeful. And you do not want to risk that."
"I know," the younger Nadina replies. There's dark circles under her eyes as she gently rocks the little baby in her arms to sleep. "Trust me, I know all of that."
Luthel sighs. "...This would be easier if you accepted my help. If you..."
"If I accepted you." Nadina's eyes close tightly. "I know. Gods, I know, Luthel. But..."
There's a long silence in the room. Luthel looks at her intently--but patiently. He is waiting. He's always been waiting.
(He's still waiting.)
He reaches into his belt and he produces a small box. Luthel gets down on one knee and opens it. "I remember what you told me long ago," he says. "That you like what we have, but that you couldn't accept my love. I already know how you'll answer, but I have to do this anyway."
Luthel clears his throat for a moment. There are tears in his eyes. "Nadina Branfeax. It doesn't matter to me who the sire of your child is, because I want to be her father. It doesn't matter to me if you never return my feelings the exact way that I feel them. I just ask that we do this together. I just ask that... you let me protect you. That you let me be in your life."
Nadina purses her lips for a long moment. "Luthel..."
She stares at just about everything else in the room first before she answers. The light outside the window. The birds in the trees that chirp outside. The baby toys scattered on the floor. The books of fey lore open on the counter in the kitchen.
She looks back down at Luthel. "I'm sorry," she says. It's an echo of an apology she's already given before--one that Telamon heard.
...
Luthel nods. But he pushes the box into Nadina's hand.
"I understand, Nadina. I... I wish it could be different. I could be the father your child needs. But... I'll settle for knowing you're alright. Farewell, my love. Always and forever."
He leaves, and the scene returns to the library. The echo of Nadina sighs.
"...If you see him again, tell him," she says. "Tell him I regret not saying yes. Because he would have been a fine father for Cor'lana, and because... maybe one day, I could have learned to let go of my hesitation, my fear, my hollowness, and come to love him, too."
There's so much to say, so much to unpack. Telamon's arms folded around Cor'lana, tucking her under his chin. The place where she's safe. And yet...
"I take no pleasure in another's pain. Even knowing it eventually brought Lana and me together, it's... bittersweet to know what it cost her. And you." He strokes Lana's hair gently, as the denouement plays out. Knowing how this ends.
"But that's the world sometimes. Tragedy mixed with farce, as my father once said. All we can do is try to write better stories, make happier endings." He buries his face in Lana's hair for a moment, drawing strength from her in turn.
He looks up at Nadina. "I... we, will do that. And then we'll go on, and try to write a better story -- for you, and Pothy, if nothing else." He smiles gently. "I suspect our first daughter, if the gods bless us with such, will carry your name."
Nadina gives Telamon a gentle smile, the warmth returning to her face. It's so easy to see where Cor'lana gets the expression from: so much of Nadina's face is physically similar to Cor'lana that it's like looking at a prototype one version behind.
"You have the opportunity to give him what he needs, Tel," Nadina says, using his nickname. "I can't give him that, but you can. Young bearers of light going forth into darkness--the generation of hope that all the living needs."
"I like that idea," Cor'lana finally says, sniffling as she does. The poor girl has been lost in her tears. "Nadina Lúpecyll-Atlon... But..."
She reaches up and dries her eyes. "I wish you would have told me... All of that. It would have... It would have made more sense why I..."
Nadina walks forward, and she wraps her arms around both Cor'lana and Telamon. "I know, darling. I've already told Telamon my reasons why I did what I did, and they were not good ones. My love for you was eventually co-opted and used by my paranoia. I thought... You were safer inside. I thought you were safer not knowing. And I'm sorry you had to feel those feelings, too, but you have your other half now, too. Your Telamon."
Cor'lana nods, just sobbing. Nadina just lets her cry. The poor girl has some residual feelings to work through.
Telamon smiles, though his eyes are a touch misty as well. "We all make mistakes. Sometimes it falls to us to try and pick up the pieces, and resolve not to repeat them." He keeps petting Cor'lana's hair, letting her cry out the last vestiges of grief and anguish. It will pass. Like all things.
"No matter what happens, Nadina, I will always be grateful to you. For Lana. Who can say how things might have played out differently? But... that's the province of 'could have been', and no one can live in that moment." He looks at the bookshelves, the serried ranks of past lives. Nadina, may I ask a... well, I don't know if it's -personal-, but it does relate to family." He cocks his head, curiously. "Who was Davios Branfeax? Pothy once... how shall we say, quoted him. I admit to some interest."
"You have time to ask questions--at least for a while," Nadina replies as Cor'lana begins to calm down, her sobs becoming sniffles. Telamon has a way of soothing her--and combined with her mother's hug, it's easy to make Cor'lana's little emotional wounds easier to heal. But Nadina does look a little puzzled. "Davios... Davios... Pothy, who was that again?"
Pothy looks up from his seat on the bookshelf, away from the very important business of preening. "Your great-grandfather, Nadi," he says. "So, Cor'lana's great-great-grandfather. Interesting fellow who was interested in obscure religious texts. He kept proclaiming he would learn the names of the gods and befriend them, and one day walk among them--aheh. I keep him asleep for a reason."
Nadina blinks, then a flash of realization passes in her glowing blue eyes. "Oh! That's the one who insisted on speaking most of the time in Celestial, as a 'future god in the making'. As I recall, he had a heart attack at the age of eighty-five while reading a tome he acquired that he claimed held the secret to immortality."
She grins at Telamon. "It was a recipe for yogurt."
Telamon can't help but snort in amusement. "That was probably what carried him off. Thinks he found the secret of immortality; turns out to be something far more prosaic." He grins. "I recognized the... Celestial, what my mentor would call 'the song of Creation' or 'the voice of Creation'. Kind of caught me off guard to hear it from Pothy."
He gives Pothy a wry look. "Because considering what a foul-mouthed little fellow you are, I cannot -imagine- you ever willingly speaking in Celestial."
He shakes his head. "I admit, it was a passing interest. But I admit it's somewhat... amusing to know that Inheritors are just as prone to the flaws and foibles of being mortal as the rest of us."
"Oh, Tel--if you and Cor'lana ever get really bored, just pick up a book here and start reading," Nadina replies with a grin. "If there's one thing that seems to be a recurring theme with inheritors--we are cursed with flaws. Maybe moreso than the average person. The burden of knowledge is an awful thing at times, and... some of us have handled it differently than others. Or more gracefully. Darios also liked to... recreationally imbibe certain substances that gave him 'visions', so there's a nice little section of the library dedicated to that."
"Oh gods," Cor'lana murmurs. "Maybe he rode with Rafael at some point..."
Telamon rolls his eyes to the ceiling (such as it is). "If we encounter him again we might ask him. Though Rafael strikes me as a bit of a... freewheeling sort, and not given much to religion in any form." He looks wryly at Nadina. "Then again, who knows? It might've amused the strange prince to indulge Davios. For all we know, Rafael gave him the yogurt recipe."
He looks at Cor'lana tenderly, stroking her hair. "No worries. Frankly, the strongest thing I want to drink these days is wine or cider. I've no interest in chasing -that- dragon."
Cor'lana snickers, looking up at Telamon with adoring eyes that are, admittedly, a little red from crying. She's all right, though--she's smiling. "I'm not interested, either," she says. "I want to experience life--and most importantly, my happiness with you--mostly free of influences, although drinking with you is admittedly fun."
Nadina smirks, pulling away from Cor'lana and Telamon at last as she looks between the two. After all, Cor'lana's smiling and laughing now. "Any other questions?" she asks. "Otherwise..."
Then Nadina looks contemplative, looking out to the sky. "Hmm. Interesting... Cor'lana, there are other things that are... sharing your unconscious mind these days. Were you aware of them?" she asks.
Telamon gives Cor'lana a hug, happily nestling her close. "I don't need to have my awareness expanded, thanks. I think I get everything I need from you, love." He kisses her cheek, before looking back to Nadina. "I think we've... well, I won't say solved everything. But we've made some good steps."
His brow immediately furrows at Nadina's comment. "What?" He cocks his head. "Surely Grandfather wouldn't be playing peeping tom, he's got more class than that."
"No, not an entity... So much as another place." Nadina narrows her eyes as she looks at Pothy. "Were you aware of this?"
Pothy looks up, once again interrupted from cleaning his impeccably pale plumage. "What? You mean the Conduit?"
It's both Nadina and Cor'lana's turn to be bewildered. "What?" they say simultaneously, echoing Pothy's comment.
Pothy sighs. He flies off the bookshelf and lands on another structure that boils up from the stone floors--a circulation desk, of sorts, with a little golden nameplate that says 'Apotheosis' off to the side of where he lands. He concentrates for a moment...
And there's a dark door that just stands in the middle of the library, like a sheet of black paper--a door without a hinge, yet it's clearly a portal.
"That was created when Cor'lana made the blood pact with Alud'rigan, the Feathered One," Pothy says. "It goes someplace, but I haven't had the time to explore it yet. You can go if you want--in fact, Cor'lana, I think you've already been in it."
Telamon reaches up to scratch his head. "Well... that kind of makes sense. Gods only know if there's some kind of lingering contact in the back of my head with the Watcher." He looks at the others. "I wonder if there's any precedent? When I conferred with... some of my fellow sorcerers about this, there were questions raised about the nature of her arcane bloodline versus her fey connection."
He looks at that dark door with a carefully detached mien. "I admit, I'm curious as to where it goes... but I might not be able to go through it. It strikes me as the sort of thing 'wrought for a single purpose and person', to borrow a phrase."
Cor'lana looks at the door for a long, long moment, before she looks back at Telamon. She reaches up on her tip-toes--as she has to--and she kisses him on the cheek. "It's my head," she says, "so I think you're allowed so long as I invite you. Besides... You've already seen all of me in person. Why not all of my head, too?"
There's a snicker from Nadina. Pothy glares at her. "Don't. Encourage her," Pothy says quietly.
"Oh, boo hoo, poor little Pothy--can't stand to see two people in love," Nadina says as she rolls her eyes. "Anyway, I think she's right... You should... Go down the rabbit hole. See where it goes."
Telamon smirks hard at Pothy. "He's amazingly grumpy about the whole thing," he advises Nadina. "I imagine he'll get over it though. Probably around the time the first children arrive." Shaking his head, he takes Cor'lana's hand in his. Dream or not, he'd never do this without going hand-in-hand with her.
"Alright, love. Let's see where this door takes us. I'm hoping for some place better than the Watcher's last residence; I didn't mention it but that huge... world hanging over head creeped me out." He shudders a bit. "Ready?"
"Maybe he will, or maybe it'll take another generation or two before he's healed from all I put him through," Nadina says with a grin. "Either way, have a safe trip. Pothy and I will hold down the fort here."
Cor'lana nods, squeezing Telamon's hand as she smiles up at him. "I think we'll be okay," she says, "although I certainly don't remember going through anyplace known as the 'Conduit' like Pothy's implying. I'm ready. Let's go."
Into the portal...
... And there's a feeling, like Telamon and Cor'lana have been walking for some time, as they step into a hallway that's seen better days. There are portraits on the wall that have been recently dusted--of elves who bear a resemblance to Glórenacil--but further along the walls they go, the features on the mortals seated in the paintings turn more and more like that of a certain ancestor. And there's a door at the end of the hall.
Cor'lana purses her lips as they stop short of the door. "I, umm... Hmmm. I... do kind of remember someplace like this hallway... and this door," she says.
She looks to Telamon with a rather sudden smile dawning on her face. "I... I feel excited. Happy. Something good is on the other side."
Telamon steps through the door, hand in hand with Cor'lana. He immediately twitches a bit, and he can feel something warm across his back -- as if something in him is reacting a little. "I... okay, I'm very glad I'm with you, because I am getting the -strong- indication I shouldn't be here unescorted."
He shakes his head. "I think... it reminds me of the discussion I had with your Grandfather. One of the practical reasons trying to form a pact with him wouldn't work for me. There's just no common bond. You can get away with it since you're a blood relation."
He straightens after a moment, studying the portraits. "Descendants. I wonder 'where' we are. Grandfather's memory? Some place he dreams about?"
Cor'lana looks longingly at the second door, but she looks back to Telamon and smiles. "I... I'm not sure," she replies. "Just... Somewhere on the precipice of love...? That's the phrase that comes to mind, for me, at least."
She squeezes his hand a little tighter. "You're welcome here, because this is my place," she says. "Created for me. And... I want to show you what's on the other side. Come on."
Cor'lana opens the door.
There's a yawning expanse before the two half-elves:
A twilight sky,
- a sunset eternal that stretches across the sky and never moves,
a clearing in the woods composed of trees
- (whose ancient branches curl up to reach for eternity)
and a large tree home in the center, surrounded by carefully maintained gardens.
And Cor'lana, still wearing her gown from in the library, looks right at home here. There is no imperial palace, no grand structure of marble and stone, but there is this tree home, as there is a door at the base of the tree.
"I remember now," Lady Cor'lana Lúpecyll says, her violet eyes sparkling. "This is... an echo, of Grandfather's tree home in Quelynos. Where I went when the pact was made. This is... the power I received from him."
Telamon seems to relax as the two step through the door again. It's clear that wherever 'here' is, he's more welcome here than he is in that hallway. "It reminds me of the original dreams," he says with a smile. "The grassy field under the starlit sky."
He puts his arm around Cor'lana, his princess, holding her close. "Is this a place? Or is it just a dream?" He smiles wryly. "Or does the question have no meaning at all?"
Tel slowly takes in the tree-home, the gardens blooming, gently waving in a tiny breeze. "I think this suits you. No impassive, stone edifice for you, love. But a place of living things, green and blooming."
The feytouched girl--the descendant of fey nobility--that Telamon holds in his arms giggles a little, her violet eyes continuing to twinkle
- (much like the stars do in his eyes)
as she looks back at him. Into him, maybe more accurately.
- (They do say eyes are the windows to the soul.)
"It's real and it's not--it's a dream and it's not," Cor'lana says. "Grandfather promised me happiness with the pact. And he gave me a childhood home associated with less pain--he gave me memories of a childhood that could have happened, how he would have raised me here. And... You'd think that would make someone sad, to see what could have been and wasn't, right? But it feels like it did. Or could. It's... hard to explain."
She leans in, rising up on her tip-toes again, to rub the tip of her nose against his. "It's my home. Our home, one day. For Grandfather dwells here in Quelynos--the real thing--and one day, we will live out our twilight years there. Where we'll grow old but we won't feel old--we will only have our love."
"Possibilities." Tel slides his arms around Cor'lana, hugging her close. "And, perhaps, the knowledge that some of this will be real someday." He draws back to let her brush noses with him. "Because as I said before... you're stuck with me." Stroking her cheek, gazing into her eyes. Starlight over violets.
"So what's inside, love? I do like the gardens, but I admit now you've piqued my curiosity. Or do we have to wait till we're a little older first?"
Cor'lana takes the opportunity, perhaps of how close they are, to kiss him gently on the lips before she draws back to answer his question. She grins a little mischievously. The fey temptation for playfulness is clearly present.
"I can take you inside," she says, leading Telamon to the house. She opens the door, and inside is...
A tree-home that looks far bigger on the inside than it does on the outside, yet it makes sense. It's a heady combination of dream logic and the knowledge that it's a copy of a real place in Quelynos. There's a living room with a fireplace, a wooden rocking chair with many, many scrawled letters and little drawings on the wood it that Grandfather's never had the heart to clean off, and so many shelves of books that twist around the border of the room--and up the walls, like a spiral staircase of sorts in the tree home of knowledge. Yet there's no way to reach the shelves of books without flying.
On the ground level, there are four doors that seem to lead out of the house, and their purposes are all indicated by wooden signs that seem like they were carved yesterday--but Telamon and Cor'lana both know better, of course. 'Kitchen', 'Bath', 'Lúpecyll', and 'Grandfather' are all indicated.
"We're going to have to alter that one," Cor'lana remarks, gesturing to the Lúpecyll sign.
Telamon smiles at the kiss, playfully giving her a squeeze before letting her lead him inside. When they step inside, he looks around in wonder. It's different... but it's homey, a warm safe place. It reminds him of their own home, and what they're building there.
He walks over to the rocking chair, looking at the child-wrought abuse, and just chuckles. "I'd say Grandfather's had his share of boys and girls in here." He looks up at the spiraling shelves, the books shelved here. "Amazing." He pauses, then leans back a little, closing one eye, then the other. "...Hm."
He doesn't comment further, but instead glances at the doors. "Probably," he quips. "I'm sure Grandfather would be happy to carve a new one though."
It's at that moment that the Grandfather door opens, and out walks Alud'rigan, the Feathered One, who smiles amiably to the two half-elves. "Oh, I could just alter it with some magic," he says.
Cor'lana doesn't even waste a moment. She rushes over to Grandfather and gives him a tight hug, grinning. "I thought I remembered meeting you here," she says, "but I wasn't certain..."
"Well, be certain. This is the only part of your head I can occupy," Grandfather says with a chuckle. "On an unconscious level, this is where you go--and where you draw the powers of your pact from when you use them. And I can extend my influence here when I'm not busy."
He looks over at Telamon and smiles. "So, what do you think?" he asks. "This isn't the real thing, of course, but it is the conduit for Cor'lana's powers--this is where she draws that power."
Telamon lets out a soft chuckle. "So was it her coming here, or was it me, that you noticed?" He grins at Grandfather. "It's beautiful. It makes sense, too... a representation of what might've been, a happier place." He lightly places his fingers on the rocking chair, tracing a couple of letters. "And it might still be. Not -exactly- like this, but then," he gives Grandfather an impish grin, "Lana and I are kind of a package deal."
He looks up along the spiral shelves. "I just now remember what this reminds me of. The Watcher's refuge. Granted, that looks like a gigantic conch shell from the outside, but it's got that same vertical construction... suited for those who can fly."
"Well, it was her I noticed, due to our tie through the pact--you were, as you said, just part of the package," Grandfather responds teasingly. He squeezes his descendant one more time before he lets go of her, at which point the feytouched 'princess' returns to Telamon's side, taking his hand.
"He has a nice pack--I mean, he is a nice package." Cor'lana turns bright red. "I've spent too much time with my mother out in the library."
Grandfather grins, of course. "Regardless, yes, I do anticipate that you two will enjoy the real thing once you eventually get to visit," he says. "The books are, admittedly, a holdover from when I was the only one living here. I can fly, of course, so there was no need to build stairs--and my descendants had wings for a few generations, so there was no need then, either."
Telamon tries not to chuckle at Cor'lana's faux pas. "Probably. But I doubt Grandfather is easily scandalized." He nods, looking up once more at the ranks of shelves, the books and tomes, before turning his eyes back to the Feathered One.
"It's been too long, hasn't it?" Tel says quietly. "No wonder when we met you were half out of your mind. Granted, I was a little distracted and worried but..." He lifts Lana's hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. "That's why we've set ourselves on this path. To fix things."
The Feathered One nods heavily, although he still smiles. "It has been... a rather long time," he says. "But with all that you have done so far, Telamon, and all that Cor'lana has agreed to do... I am content. And I know that Cor'lana is happy. Clearly she is if she's talking about--"
"Ahah! Yeah. I'm happy." Cor'lana's still blushing, made a little more scarlet by Telamon's kiss to her hand. But she looks back to Telamon and says, more seriously, "That's why we've agreed to become Cor'lana and Telamon Lúpecyll-Atlon... Together, we'll light the way."
There's a sound like a tolling bell from outside, and Grandfather makes a clicking noise. "Mmm. Appears you do not have long left in your dream walk," he says. "You may want to return the way you came, find Pothy, and wake up."
Telamon wraps his arms around Cor'lana. "It's a big name, but I'm sure we'll manage." He gives Grandfather an impish grin. "We are -both- happy, thanks. And I suspect, gods willing, it will be a very happy life for both of us."
When the bell tolls, he mutters something rude about timing. "You can never tell how long these things will last." He looks at Cor'lana. "Ready to return to the daily fol-de-rol, love?"
He tosses Grandfather another grin. "And don't be late for your shift at the bookstore, sir. Mortals have developed a love of punctuality."
Cor'lana smiles, albeit a little sadly. "I'd love to stay longer," she says, "especially here with you, Tel, but... We ought to go. The waking world needs us."
Grandfather smiles. "Don't worry, I won't be late," he says. "Much as I don't understand your kind's love of round and even numbers on a circular object, I understand the importance of timing." He raises a hand, and the door to the tree home opens up. "Perhaps I'll drop by later for dinner in the real world."
The feytouched descendant of the Feathered One looks back to the open door and sighs. "Alright. Let's go scoop up Pothy, say goodbye to Mother, and leave."
And yet, going through the door...
... Cor'lana opens her violet eyes in the real world and grumbles, waking up as she hears Pothy mumbling, "I'm putting Nadi back to sleep for five-thousand years."
Apparently, the echo of Nadina had done something to ruffle Pothy's feathers while the two half-elves went elsewhere in Cor'lana's head.
Telamon stirs, feeling groggy as well. "I think that was a little rougher than I expected." He reaches up to rub his face with his free hand; the other, of course, still holding Lana's. "What -time- is it?" he asks a bit rhetorically, as he tries to sit up, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs.
Hearing Pothy grumbling, though, he can't help but snicker. "Really, Pothy, she must've gotten under your skin in a major way when you were her familiar." He gives Lana's hand a squeeze, before shifting to swing his legs off the side of the bed.
"I don't wanna talk about it," Pothy grumbles, in a way that's very apt of the five-year-old that he sounds like.
Cor'lana sits up in bed, too, although her head quickly goes to find Telamon's shoulder as she leans onto him. She closes her eyes as she says, "Mmmn, good night," in that joking manner that she sometimes does in the mornings--although she usually does it to poke fun at Telamon for being the sleepy one in the mornings.
Pothy peers up from his spot on the bed at the window. It's now, apparently, the afternoon, judging by the sunlight filtering in through the bedroom window.
Telamon leans back into Lana, enjoying the warmth. Letting her press close, as he closes his eyes a moment and simply revels in it. "Mmmm. It's always good." He reaches over to pet Pothy gently, smoothing the raven's feathers. "So..."
He tries to half turn, to look at Lana, without dislodging her. "Thoughts? I guess we have a direction -- find Luthel, and give him closure over Nadina. Algar's looking for him now, so we should have a message in a few days."
Cor'lana opens her eyes and looks up at Telamon from where she's planted herself on his shoulder. "Once Algar's found Luthel, I think we take a trip up to the Mythwood," she says, "and we visit him. We give him closure, and offer our friendship to him... And we go from there."
She pauses a moment, seeming to think for a moment. "I'm glad we did that walk," she says. "I... understand more about my mother now. Why she did the things she did, why she lived the life that she did. And the lessons I've learned from that tragedy, too."
Then Cor'lana offers a smile up to Telamon. "The biggest lesson I learned was not to shy away from love... and I'm glad I didn't. I'm glad I confessed to you, Tel. I'm glad you gave us a chance."
Well, there's really only one response to that. He reaches around and gently tugs Lana over into his lap, and hugs her tightly. Doesn't say anything for a bit, just holds her.
Finally, he responds. "I'm glad we both came together. This... it's taken both of us, to make this new and wonderful thing. And oh gods, Lana, I'm so -happy- to be part of it."
He nods, contemplating the plan. "Agreed. With any luck, we'll have word from Algar. He'll probably meet us there -- that'll be interesting." He kisses her cheek. "In the meantime, love, how shall we spend what's left of the day?"
Pothy stares at the two lovebirds as they embrace for a moment. He seems to want to say something--and then he looks around the room. This is their room, not his.
So instead, he announces, "I want snacks." And so, the fluffy white raven flies off into the kitchen.
Cor'lana smiles as Telamon kisses her cheek. "So long as you promise me you won't steal kisses from anyone else like you implied you've done before," she says, giving him a playful look that, hmm, well... might not be so playful... "I think we'll keep on this path together."
She looks contemplative for a moment before she seems to arrive at a conclusion in her head, nodding. "... Honestly? After all of that... I feel like another lazy cuddling day might be in order."
Then comes the mischievous feytouched grin again. "Or more than cuddling."
Telamon watches Pothy fly out, and sighs. "We better go out there before he makes a mess." He kisses Lana again, softly on the lips, before smiling. "I think a lazy day might be in order. Try to digest everything we learned."
He furrows his brow. "Pothy's description of Davios was... kind of disturbing. Reminded me of what I'd read from the Circles of Longing, about how arcanists become addicted to their own magic. Probably for the best that he died off reading a yogurt recipe."
"In any case," he stretches, before gently helping Lana up and standing as well. "Let's go see if we can find Pothy some snacks before he lays waste to the kitchen."
Cor'lana grins at Telamon. "Lazy day it is," she says in agreement, getting up with him as he offers her a hand and pulls her up from bed. "Honestly, now I'm hungry for yogurt... Ooh. Maybe I could convince Pothy to share his yogurt-covered cashews with me!"
The half-elves leave the bedroom to attend to Pothy and to set about their lazy day. However, unbeknownst to them, a few streets down over at the Cheerful Corvid...
"Go on, go on, go on my love,
Go into the quiet and peace of night,
And take flight on your white wings
And may you leave me, my true love," Addy Branfeax sings to herself as she finishes putting cookies away into her display counter.
The door to the shop swings open, and Addy calls out, "Welcome to the Cheerful Corvid Coffee Shop, what can I get yo--"
Once she's looking over the counter, her green eyes go wide. "Luthel?"
The sandy-blond man stares at her for a moment before he asks quietly, "Where's the Lúpecyll girl?"
OOC
Loosely inspired by Clannad's rendition of the traditional Irish song, "Siúil, a Rún". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxfxbdPNQvQ
The Sildanyari folk song is taken from the English translation of "Siúil, a Rún" and rewritten a tad for the purpose of this scene.