How Many Ways to Cook Fish

Log Info

• Title: How Many Ways to Cook Fish

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's home

• Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon are a few days into playing host for Tanith the golden dragon, and Ravenstongue is beginning to feel the weight of cooking fish so many different ways. Telamon arrives home with a fresh stock of fish, and husband and wife sit and talk about everything going on. Ravenstongue pushes Telamon to investigate the totem he's attuned to some more, and offers her help in the matter, which Telamon accepts.

Lúpecyll-Atlon house, afternoon.

There's always something afoot in the Lúpecyll-Atlon household, and today is no exception. While the married couple (plus Pothy and Jyndei) have played gracious hosts to Tanith, the little golden dragon with a big appetite for fish...

It means there's an awful lot of work in the kitchen. And Cor'lana just sighs as she finds herself washing dishes for the third time that day in a quiet moment where the golden dragon has scampered off elsewhere into the household, presumably to have a Tanith-nap. "I didn't know there were so many ways to prepare fish," Cor'lana quietly says to herself, wiping her brow.

"Well, you're doing pretty well for yourself now," Pothy remarks to Cor'lana as he eats a shelled peanut from a bag of candied peanuts that sits on the kitchen counter. "Telamon hasn't complained about the cooking, at least."

There's a smile that finds Cor'lana's face when her husband is mentioned. "Well, he'll probably be back from the market soon enough," she says. "Hopefully with more fish, or we're all in trouble."

Fish, and more fish. Fortunately, the Lúpecyll-Atlon household is not in a state of 'copper pockets'. Still, at this rate Tel's thinking very seriously about investing in the fishing boats, considering the seafood he's been buying. Fortunately, Tanith's gluttonous nature seems somewhat curbed by cooking and the prospect of new recipes. "Now if I could only convince her that beef or pork would be acceptable once in a while," he muses.

His steps carry him down the freshly plowed street, a floating disk hovering by his side, packed with snow and wrapped fish. His thoughts reach out over the intervening space, touching his wife's. (Almost home, love. On the upshot, it's so cold we can store it outside and it won't go bad. If you need to take a break, go ahead -- I'll summon an unseen servant to take over once I'm there.)

There's a sense of gratitude that comes across the bond, as well as a familiar and small twinge of excitement that typically manifests when Telamon informs his wife that he's on his way home. (Thank you, my starborn king. I'm almost done with the dishes, and I think she's asleep, so it's a cup of tea and some couch time for me.) This is also accompanied by a mental image of herself on the couch, cuddled up with Pothy. It looks like she already has a plan in mind.

Which is, in fact, what she does as she puts the last dish up to dry. Cor'lana wipes her hands off on a kitchen towel, and she picks up Pothy from his spot on the kitchen counter. "Cuddle time!" she informs him.

Pothy looks pleadingly back at the bag of candied peanuts. "But--"

He's interrupted with a kiss to his fluffy little head. "No buts," Cor'lana says firmly, and she walks over to the couch, curling up into a blanket that she pulls off of it as she sits down. Pothy gets put into her lap, of course, and he seems to have no objections now that he's become a lap-bird.

A cheerful sense of happiness passes over the bond, the usual emotion Telamon feels when he's close to home. Lana can sense him come in through the back gate, and then it gets strange for a moment. His mind reaches out and upward, touching a couple stars, close to his perception. Then his voice intones, "Sisig bursag!" but his mind says, (I call you forth, servitor, to do my bidding.)

Then in a businesslike tone, Telamon says, "Pack the fish here on the table, in the snow. Once that's done, wait by the door for further instruction." And with that, Telamon comes in through the back door, the disk dismissed as he enters.

(Ugh. The disk works great for hauling, but I have to walk all the way back. It can't keep up if I fly.) Telamon's mind flickers with amusement, a melange of images from the trek back. He doffs his boots and cloak, setting them by the front door, before he finally slides onto the couch. "Phew," he says finally. "Well, we're stocked for the week. The fishermen get very cooperative and friendly when you jingle a money pouch."

"Welcome home!" both Pothy and Cor'lana say at the same time as Telamon steps in through the back door. This results in exchanged glances before they both giggle, and Cor'lana holds open the blanket for Telamon to get underneath it with her.

Once he's settled in, Cor'lana snuggles up to him, grinning. "A week's supply of fish? I don't know. Tanith's ability to eat fish constantly surprises me. I thought Pothy was a bottomless pit, but she's something else."

"She just specializes," Pothy whines. "I'm a more generalized scholar of food!"

Telamon reaches over to pet Pothy gently. "I know. Thank the gods we found that sailor's cookbook. I've been picking up tips from it. If the situation wasn't so dire, it'd be funny... Jyndei tried to play on the whole 'shared draconic heritage' thing, and get information. She went on for three hours nonstop. He's curled up on the top shelf of the closet, taking a well-earned nap."

He sits back, his arm around Lana's shoulders. "Well, we've managed to get ahead of things for the moment. I received a letter from father -- he's home and doing well. He and mother send their love, of course. And the recent spate of nasty feelings against adventurers seems to have subsided, though I've heard that the Watch is tapping some of their retired members to act as... facilitators, I guess? Between the Guild and the guards."

"I'm glad your parents are doing well," Cor'lana answers with a fond smile. "With everything that's been going on with the totems and this Kol fellow, it... seems like things are getting more and more dangerous? But only because things are close to home. Especially with poor Dolan being hurt." Her tone becomes saddened at the last point. "It's... almost odd to see people going about their lives like nothing is happening at all despite that. I guess that's just how things go for adventurers versus 'regular' people."

Meanwhile, Pothy's feathers all poof up, as he sometimes does when experiencing affection (or rage), and the cream-colored bird... actually shifts from Cor'lana's lap to Telamon's. "Will the facilitators give me snacks?" he asks hopefully, looking up at Telamon with shiny blue eyes.

Cor'lana huffs a little at being abandoned. "Of course that's your first question," she says. "That's interesting that they're doing that, though. I wonder why."

"Everyone has their life to live," Telamon explains. "The problems that seem so serious to us might not be serious to someone else. I'm not saying they're cruel, but the problems just aren't as immediate for them. They have their own issues to manage, often much more important to them."

He leans over to kiss Lana's cheek. "I can speculate. While adventurers can be a fractious, unruly lot, most of us genuinely want to try and do the right thing. But this can put us at cross-purposes with the city watch, who want to keep the peace. They can't outright ban the Guild -- but they can ask the Guild to work a little more closely so we don't trip over each other. I suspect they've made entreaties to the wizards at the University as well."

"You'll never see us in uniforms," Telamon concludes with a wry grin. "But it wouldn't surprise me if the Watch and the Guild worked a little more closely together to manage some of the jobs that pop up." He cants his head at Pothy with a grin. "Well, if they don't, we'll make sure you won't go hungry, Pothy."

Of course there's that sense of warmth and happiness in the bond as Telamon kisses Cor'lana's cheek, which is further evident by the wide smile on Cor'lana's face. "Some of us adventurers live quiet lives at home, you know," she says cheekily. "Granted, because some of us have found the loves of our lives. Or... are now playing host to tiny golden dragons with massive appetites."

"And have cuddly familiars who like snacks," Pothy interjects with what sounds audibly like a little pout.

"There's that, too," Cor'lana says with a grin. "Like Tel said, we won't ever keep you without snacks, Pothy. Promise."

She looks back up at Telamon, her expression turning to curiosity. "How did the visit with Dolan go, by the way? I'd like to see him myself, soon, but I wasn't sure if it'd be a good idea for me to go or not."

Telamon rubs under Pothy's chin. "You will never go hungry in my house, Pothy," he says with a smile. "I can't say things won't always been a little chaotic, but there'll be no empty bellies here." Scritching the white raven, he smiles back at Lana.

At the mention of Dolan, though, the smile fades a bit. "Honestly, it's good and bad. Bad, because that monster Kol put him through absolute hell. I'll spare you the details, but there's a reason he's been kept at the temple. They had to do some fairly intricate healing."

"The good news is that he IS healing, and recovering -- both physically and mentally. I chalk that up to Zeke -- he's a makari priest of Daeus who's been overseeing his recovery -- and his lady, Andelena." Tel exhales. "Dolan knows you, and if Zeke needs an introduction I'll accompany you. But they are controlling visits so he doesn't get worn out."

Cor'lana seems greatly relieved as Telamon informs her that Dolan's healing. "I'm glad he was able to be helped," she says. "Dolan's a good friend. We've been through some similar things, and we've bonded a little because of that."

She looks thoughtful for a moment. "I know Zeke, actually," she says. "He's been here in our garden before one day, and I did go on a Guild mission with him recently. I'll see if I can drop by."

Then her gaze focuses as she goes and puts her hand on Telamon's lap--the part of it that isn't occupied by Pothy-butt, that is. "I... think you should keep investigating that totem," she says. "I don't know how helpful I'll be, but I want to help you. It's either that or going and finding Zalgiman to flirt more information out of him. Which I know neither of us particularly like the idea of, but I'm apparently too good at it for my own good."

There's a twinge down the bond, and Telamon doesn't quite keep his expression calm. "I am," he says quietly. "You know how the totems are... activated by blood? They bond to a person, more strongly if you are devoted to the deity that crafted it?"

He pushes onward. "Dolan had communed with Daeus, prior to being abused by Kol. One of the questions he'd had answered was that the more you put into it, the stronger the bond becomes and it... unlocks certain things. I'm going to try and see what happens. I'm not going to cut my own throat or something stupid, but... this is the sort of thing I really want someone watching out for me when it's being done."

There's an almost odd sort of calm in Cor'lana's head when blood is mentioned. The flicker of images of a hazy forest somewhere of Quelynos, with the Feathered One staring impartially down at Cor'lana (from her perspective) as he holds out a pool of dark liquid in his hands--

And then there's a sensation like curtains being dragged over the sunlight as the images fade. Cor'lana nods. "I won't let you do grievous harm to yourself," she says. "I'm more than familiar with bloodletting for the sake of magic at this point. So... if anyone should help, not only should it be your wife, but it should also be your wife who knows a thing or two about blood pacts."

Then she looks bashful. "Albeit one made with an ancestor. Not an ancient item."

Telamon laughs softly. "I'm not going to do grievous harm to myself. I may be brave, but I'm no masochist. How's the saying go? I don't like pain, it hurts me?" He hugs Lana to him. "My life is not wholly mine to spend as I will it -- you are a part of it as well. So yes, I want you standing by with bandages and healing potions as needed."

He draws back so he can look into her eyes. "If I am doing something dangerous... I trust you, as no other, to keep me from misfortune and woe. Guide me in this, and I will have no fear as I do it."

"Bandages, healing potions, and kind words," Cor'lana agrees firmly, smiling softly at Telamon. "Healing's not about just the physical, you know. A hug and some love is also part of healing."

Her eyes sparkle a little. "I should know. You've helped me heal much better before than if I didn't have you around."

"Me too!" Pothy says with an audible pout. "Don't forget about me!" So says the bird who abandoned Cor'lana's lap for Telamon's when he started giving Pothy all of the love.

But then he's patted, too. "You aren't forgotten, silly," Cor'lana reassures him. "You've always been there for me. You were there to dry my tears when no one else was. Nowadays, the tear-drying duty is just split between you and Telamon."

"You really don't understand, do you Pothy?" Telamon's tone is gentle. "Don't you think I know how long you stood by Lana, till she found me? How you kept her from absolute despair? You might as well be my brother, and I will always love you for what you did for her." He runs his hands along Pothy's feathers, stroking, before he leans over to kiss Lana softly.

"I still think you'd have become strong, in time. But I'm glad to have joined your life, and helped teach you new things. I know I've learned a few things from you as well -- and I won't scandalize Pothy by saying them aloud." His eyes twinkle mischievously, "But in all seriousness, we'll work on it this evening. Tanith... doesn't like the totems. I think she understands why they're necessary, but there's something about them that definitely makes her ill-tempered."

Pothy's feathers all puff up again, and he moves his head in a rather bashful and shy manner. "Aww, well... I've never had a brother, so... I'll never complain again."

But then Telamon makes the mischievous comment, and Pothy just stares. Finally, he sighs a little. "Well, if you're going to produce the next inheritor, I shouldn't be scandalized," he says. "It's not like you're Nadi and whoever she's shacked up with for the evening. And Telamon is, I think, the best person you could have picked."

Cor'lana grins, patting Pothy some more. "Pothy can watch over us, too," she offers. "But... if Tanith doesn't like the totems, maybe it's better that he stays with her?"

Telamon chuckles, and nods. "It's customary. And as I've said before, Pothy, I trust you to help keep an eye out for Lana." He smirks at Pothy glaring, and shakes his head. "Really, Pothy, Nadina must've really driven you to distraction with her antics. I promise it will be far more... hm. Traditional might be the best word."

He nods to Lana at the point about Pothy, Tanith, and the totems. "Jyndei, once he wakes up from his nap, is going to work with the pixies to keep Tanith somewhat occupied. But we may need Pothy to keep an eye out as well. I suggested the pixies teach Tanith a couple card games -- that might keep her diverted for a bit."

Pothy just sighs. "It was just a lot," he says. "Especially when I didn't like some of the people Nadi was flirting with, or I thought she was putting herself in danger. But I never felt that way about you with Lana, Telamon, and I don't think I ever will."

Cor'lana looks a little amused. "Tanith, playing card games? So long as you give a game a fishy-sounding name, I think she might bite."

She looks contemplative for only a moment, before she sighs as she leans into Telamon again. The bond had a few inklings of ideas about the totem and safe bloodletting... but then just a feeling of peace. "Sure, let's do that later," she says, "but for now... I just want to be with you."

Telamon folds his arms around Lana and Pothy as well, holding them close. "If it helps, Pothy, I think I agree with that assessment. There comes a point where you wonder about the person's well-being. I'm hardly a prude, but... that sort of thing can be dangerous." His expression becomes wry. "If only for the prospect of a crossbow wedding."

"Sometimes, it's about whatever works," he says to Lana. "And if it seems silly, fair enough, but I'm not so egotistical as to turn my nose up to at silly and successful." He presses his face into her hair, and nods. "I think we should enjoy this. No more business for now. Let's think about spring -- and the gardens we'll be planting."

And so life moves on in the Lúpecyll-Atlon home.