Know When to Fold

Log Info

• Title: Know When to Fold

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

• Summary: Ravenstongue returns home from the TarRaCe in low spirits, but it's hard to be sullen when she walks in to find that Pothy is beating both Grandfather and Telamon at a card game. Grandfather accepts his loss with grace and soothes Telamon's embarrassment by serving a homecooked meal to the two half-elves. After Grandfather embarrasses Ravenstongue by revealing he's a fan (in the so-bad-it's-good sense) of the Crimson Pen series, he leaves and the sorcerous couple have time to talk about the events of the day.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- 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
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

It's a very nice early evening as the sun is setting, the rays warm and the breeze only a touch cold from the last grasp of winter on the land. Ravenstongue walks home with a capped cup of soup in her hands, her eyes a little red and sullen from the day's events.

However, inside the Lúpecyll-Atlon home...

"Pothy, good sir, how are you winning?" the Feathered One asks, looking over at Pothy from a hand of cards in complete befuddlement. The cards look rather small and fragile in his claws, but he's making it work, somehow.

Pothy croaks merrily as Grandfather quietly pushes over another freshly baked cookie to Pothy's side of the table. "I'm a winnah, baby!" he declares, imitating what sounds to be a heavyset man deep in his cups and winning it all at the gambling hall.

Telamon sighs in disgust. "It's because he's a bird." He tosses his cards down, before pushing another cookie as well to Pothy. "It's the same reason I try not to play cards against the makari. It's a lot harder to 'read' them and bluff them." He looks mildly exasperated. "I will thank you, Grandfather, to -please- not repeat this tale around my father. He was the one who -taught- me this game and I think he'd be appalled if he knew I'd lost this badly."

He stands up, stretching. "Does anyone need a refill? I could use some more cider... and I'd like to retain some shred of dignity."

Ravenstongue happens to unlock the door and step in right as Telamon says his last bit. "What about your dignity?" she asks, a smile playing across her face. It's hard to continue to be down when you're home and the people you love are there.

She walks into the kitchen and sets the soup down for a moment, going to find Telamon and lift herself onto her tip-toes for a hug and a peck on the lips. "Hi love," she says in Sylvan. She's managed to teach him that much so far. "Are you, ummm..."

"Playing cards, yes. We are losing to the good sir Pothy and your fiance has asked me to a vow of silence regarding this matter," Grandfather says, a tad bit amused despite their mutual loss. "Perhaps I could even the odds and make it so you can understand our enemy's whistling, Telamon."

Pothy, for his part, is just happily eating what he has been given. To the victor go the spoils.

Telamon wraps his arms immediately around Raven to hug her back, nuzzling her happily. "Pretty much what Grandfather said. I can -kind- of read him when we play cards. But I can't pick up on Pothy's 'tells' quite so easily." He sighs loudly and gustily. "And as a result, he is, to translate the arvek'nar phrase, 'beating us like a drum'."

He grins at Grandfather, and just shakes his head. "Won't help, sir. Games like this, it's not what you -say-, it's what you don't say. Body language, reading facial expressions, that sort of thing."

"I guess Pothy's found his secret talent after all," Ravenstongue says with a smile as she looks over at Pothy. "You may be useless as my 'repository of knowledge', Pothy, but you could be useful if we're ever in a card game to save our souls or something."

Grandfather shrugs as he rises from the chair and walks into the kitchen to peer into the brick oven, kept hot by the crackle of wood. He lifts a hand--which is then magically covered by a glove that, only by the good grace of magic, forms to his claws snugly--and pulls out a baking dish containing what appears to be some manner of pie, the crust a golden brown on the center. "And just in time for dinner," Grandfather says happily. "I bought a cookbook last time I was here to try and improve my mortal baking skills."

"Oh, Grandfather, I actually brought home some soup, so we could have that too," Ravenstongue offers happily.

Pothy looks meaningfully at Telamon once soup is mentioned. He absolutely wants to get a rise out of him.

GAME: Telamon rolls bluff: (12)+13: 25

Telamon somehow keeps a straight face at Raven's mention of soup, and when Pothy gives him a look, he just blankly looks back at the bird. What? Nothing to see here. Truly. Instead, he comments, "No reason we can't have both. What kind of soup did you get, love?"

He chuckles, contemplating the idea of Pothy in a high-stakes card game. "That might not be a great idea. They could convince him to lose just by offering him snacks."

Pothy continues to stare at Telamon. He'll crack soon enough. Pothy knows it all.

Ravenstongue grins, although her eyes look rather knowing as she glances at Telamon. "It's just a creamy tomato soup," she says. "Soup of the day, I was told."

"Yes, of course, let's all have soup and pie," Grandfather says merrily. Before Ravenstongue can even intervene, he's already assembling plates and bowls of pie and soup. It appears that the pie is a savory and meaty combination, filled with mushrooms, ground beef, and a brown sauce that slightly oozes out as it's cut and plated.

"Oh, well, wow, thank you, Grandfather," Ravenstongue says happily, taking a seat at the table since it seems the fey patriarch has decided to take over on the matter of meal time.

Telamon simply refuses to look at Pothy. Foiled again, birdbrain.

Instead, he assists in setting the table, making sure the chairs are in place. "Unseen servants are all right for this, but since they're, well, unseen, you kind of have to keep clear." He pours cups of cider for the trio, his eyes meeting Raven's, and he winks ever so briefly.

Once the couple, and the fey lord are seated (with Pothy in his usual perched spot), Tel smiles at Raven. "Did you have a good afternoon, dear?"

"Ah, well..." Ravenstongue sighs a little. "It could have been better."

She immediately catches Grandfather's eyes, which are, of course, attached to a face filled with increasing concern, and she shakes her head. "But, well, it's not something I want to discuss over dinner," she says.

"Well, I cannot force you to disclose what you don't wish to discuss," Grandfather says, "especially seeing that I made sure to come here at a time where you both were present and unoccupied. I wanted to celebrate the engagement and, of course, the gift I gave to Cor'lana."

Ravenstongue was in the middle of picking at her pie--quite good, actually, but she has to do a hard swallow as Grandfather mentions the gift. She nods politely and smiles. "Oh, well, of course," she says.

She looks at Telamon with a pointed glance that suggests one thing: 'I didn't tell him about the engagement.'

Telamon seems to be having a better go of keeping his expression straight, as he samples the pie first, then the soup. Working back and forth between them, frowning at Raven's admission. He reaches over to take her hand in his, squeezing gently. "We'll talk later."

His thumb unconsciously rubs over the ring on her hand, as he looks to Grandfather. "We discussed the... gift. I was... a little nervous. I admit it. But that's balanced against the fact that I trust you, Grandfather. You trust me with her, after all, so I'm kind of obligated to reciprocate." He runs his free hand through his hair. "You'd think things would simplify, but no, the world just comes up with new and fascinating complications."

It's Grandfather's turn to give Ravenstongue a little look. "You didn't discuss it with him beforehand?" he asks, clearly a little troubled by it. "Cor'lana..."

"I know, I know--" Ravenstongue sighs, looking down at her soup. "I've... heard that more than once today. Or something similar. I've come to realize I was being a bit... selfish, by not discussing it with anyone. Irresponsible, too. Probably more words I haven't even thought of yet."

But she looks at Telamon and smiles a little. "But yes, we're engaged, and Tel's fine with the pact now."

Grandfather gives a thoughtful noise as he looks at Telamon. "Well, Telamon, I suppose I owe you an apology," he says. "I did not check with Cor'lana beforehand to clear this with you. If there was one thing my late wife impressed onto me, it was to encourage transparency in a relationship--and that means telling your spouse about the things you want to do. All of them."

He takes a sip of the soup. It's probably more out of politeness than anything, as who knows if he can even taste much of it. "Except for surprise birthday parties. Her first birthday spent with me after we fell in love was supposed to be a surprise birthday party, but I ruined the surprise by telling her as she demanded transparency when I showed up coated in my own blood after running off to fight some idiot knight who came asking for her hand in marriage."

He looks at Telamon pointedly. "And you? Don't take Cor'lana to a fey ball unless you want idiot knights coming after her. Lessons learned the hard way."

GAME: Telamon rolls bluff: (19)+13: 32

Telamon releases Raven's hand to raise it, along with the other. As if to smooth over troubled waters. "Grandfather. It's all right. Honestly, I..." He pauses, and then continues, "My father once told me it's best to be able to defend yourself because there may come a day when you have no one to defend you." His lips curl up in a grin. "So 'Lana collecting some additional tools to do so -- arcane or otherwise -- doesn't offend me. I am a very pragmatic fellow in some respects."

He returns to eating, his face relaxed. "I've been reading about the curuchuil, and while I ... might try to forge one with 'Lana at some point, I don't think I could form a similar pact with you, Grandfather. There's some complicated aspects regarding bloodlines and arcane elements interacting."

Grandfather's face is genial and attentive in expression as he listens to Telamon, smiling politely with him. But then Telamon brings up forging a curuchuil with Cor'lana and he grins widely. "Perhaps that could be part of the wedding ceremony," he says. "A new family curuchuil to represent your union. Two half-sil children from far-off places deeply in love paint their own. I imagine it'd be closer to a conventional one--so perhaps a painting on a canvas--unless you're taking a page from our family tradition. In which case, please feel free. I am delighted by the idea!--And do not be worried at all about making pacts with me, young man. To be quite frank, it was something I only did because Cor'lana requested it, and..."

He sighs wistfully and shrugs in a dramatic fashion one could expect of a fey lord. "What sort of grandfather would I be to say no to my lovely and wonderful granddaughter wanting to embrace the family roots?" he asks rhetorically.

"Thanks, Grandfather," Ravenstongue says with a wider smile. "How did you learn about our engagement, anyway?"

Grandfather looks very pleased with himself. "I happened to read it in the paper. The Tribune. You would be surprised with what I know these days about the mortal world, Cor'lana. I get it from the same shop where they sell those delightful Crimson Pen novels."

Tel's expression cracks at the mention of the Crimson Pen, and he stifles a snicker. He turns his head into his elbow, trying not to laugh like an idiot, as whatever tension he might've had drains out. "Gods, those things," he says in a slightly choked voice. "I'd never stand in the way of a man trying to make an honest coin, but those things are awful."

Once he regains his composure, he nods. "But yes. Typically engagements are publicized here in Alexandria. I have a couple copies of the Tribune as well, kept for ... well, memories. Good ones." He nods thoughtfully at the idea of a joint curuchuil, devised by Raven and himself. "I'll think on it. Tattoos and body art aren't as common in Ylvaliel, but..." He shrugs lightly. "We are building something new. And while traditions are nice, sometimes you have to build new ones."

Ravenstongue, in stark contrast, looks like she is now contemplating the sweet release of death as she learns that her Grandfather is apparently also an appreciator of Crimson Pen novels.

"Feathers, no, they're not good at all. You should really learn Sylvan if you want some thrilling literature. There is a reason why many consider Sylvan to be the language of love and passion," Grandfather says, either oblivious to his descendant's torment or egging her on. Judging by the fact that he's fey, probably the former. "I mean, the words for genitals are absolutely disgusting and crude. Nowhere near the poetry that a--"

"Grandfather, I'm. Going. To. Scream," Ravenstongue finally pleads for mercy.

Grandfather peers at Ravenstongue for a moment. "Why? Shouldn't Telamon be making you scream instead?" he asks, perplexed.

"Grandfather!" Ravenstongue finally turns bright red.

But the fey patriarch waves off her concern. "Please, little one! I happened to see your container of night tea was a little lower than I remember it being. There's not a shame in the world about it so long as you are having fun. Mortals really are such prudes about it. I hope that's a tradition you dismantle," Grandfather says, looking at Telamon with a smile.

GAME: Telamon rolls bluff: (3)+13: 16

Telamon opens his mouth to retort something, and then Grandfather, well, he just goes charging in. It's interesting that it takes more to finally rattle Tel or make him blush, but it does happen. His face flushing, and for a moment his jaw works soundlessly.

Finally, he coughs, and speaks. "I am SO not having a conversation with you about bedroom activities, Grandfather. However, yes, suffice to say we are 'window climbing', even if there's no window involved." He reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, and stage-whispers to Raven, "I thought I told you to put that jar in the bedroom, dear."

He takes a deep breath, focusing. Yes. Focus. "In any case, Raven has been teaching me Sylvan. Perhaps you know this, but 'pillow dictionaries' are fairly common in marriages where the couple speak different languages, even if they share a common tongue."

"I brought it back into the kitchen earlier when the water was ready and I forgot to bring it back," Ravenstongue says a little apologetically--although it's much closer to a wife confessing she forgot to take out the trash after being asked to rather than the embarrassing incident that's unfolding before them. Needless to say, that jar will likely stay in the bedroom for the rest of time.

Grandfather just looks genial and agreeable, not a care in the world as he claps his hands together. "Well, of course you are. I knew you couldn't stay away from each other forever. The tension between you two was obvious, really. I am simply happy to know that my little raven is happy--and also teaching you the language. I also had to teach my wife, many eons ago, although she took to it like a bird to flight."

He rises from his chair and says, "However, I do sense it is high time I leave the two of you to be alone in your nest for a while. One must not wear out their welcome, after all."

Telamon manages to paste a slightly fixed grin on his face, as he politely rises as well. "Despite the... well, mildly embarrassing revelation of us in bed, it's always good to see you, Grandfather. You know you're welcome here." He takes a deep breath, as he opens the window for Grandfather to slip out in crow form, before shutting and latching it again.

Once that's done, he returns to the table, and rubs his temples. "Well... that was close. He didn't ask -why- we'd suddenly decided to become 'trothplighted' as the old saying goes. I really wasn't looking forward to trying to explain that."

Indeed, once Grandfather offers his tender farewells and departs, Ravenstongue finds herself just sighing deeply, standing next to the table by Telamon as she had gotten up to unlatch the window for Grandfather's corvid form. "Yeah," she says. "Thank goodness he seemed much more interested in teasing us than to interrogate us about the matter. And, well, giving me a lecture. But an important one."

She looks at Telamon with a more tender gaze, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I really did mean it. Everything together, after the pact. I just wish I'd wised up and asked you beforehand if you were okay with it. But..."

She purses her lips together. There's something she doesn't quite want to say.

Telamon picks up on it, and reaches out to cup her face. "Talk to me, queen of my heart. If there's more, say so. Remember, we face these things together." His eyes gazing into hers, warm and loving. "You don't have to carry these things by yourself. I am here."

A series of gestures to call an unseen servant into existence, and he instructs it, "Clean the dishes and stack them." That done, he leads Raven into the living area, sitting down on the couch and pulling her down into his lap. Letting her rest against him and gather herself.

She gladly takes his comfort, smiling for his kind words even as her brows furrow together. "I suppose that's my worry," Ravenstongue says, wrapping her arms around him. "I just... Well, you know how I've told you all about my past. And... I've been happier than ever with how things are going in life. Even with all the nonsense about my father happening in the background."

Ravenstongue sighs a little, nuzzling her face into the side of his head and into his platinum blond hair. She feels safe there. "Just that I've been dealing with a sinking feeling that it could all just go away. My friends could disappear, die, leave, or just break off their friendships with me for reasons that I can't control. And--I'm sorry to say it, Tel, but that worry extends to you, too. Sometimes I think you'll wake up and realize there are other people out there in the world and you don't have to 'settle down' with me. You'd leave. Even though you've told me you never would."

She frowns a little. "I just am... not used to happiness like this."

Telamon starts to say something, then stops. His brows are furrowed, as he parses her words, thinking. Then he reaches down, and takes her hand -- the one with the ring. Holding it up, he says, "I know you've lost so much. And you've been lonely for so long. But this..." He rubs the ring on her finger. "...should be a reminder. I'm not going to walk away from you. I won't speak to the will of the gods. That's not something you or I can really control. But I can tell you this: I will not leave you willingly."

He exhales, and kisses her softly. "I know you're not used to happiness, to being -whole-. You spent so long, hurting. Wounded. It's why I'm not taking offense -- well, that and I love you too much to do so anyways. But you have to believe, 'Lana. You have to have faith in me. And in us."

Ravenstongue takes in his words, her eyes sparkling a little again with the beginnings of happy tears as she looks at the ring again. "I know," she says quietly, a smile finding her face. "I know I need to. And... I do. But that's why that one night when I found out about my mother's death, I asked you to never leave me."

She returns his kiss, keeping her face close to his as she pushes her nose against his. "I ran into Aryia at the bathhouse at the TarRaCe earlier. She inquired about the mark... And kept inquiring... And finally I told her the truth. She got upset. She doesn't trust Grandfather, and she was insulted that I didn't trust my friends enough to talk to them about things like this. I told her what I told you and... Well, it didn't matter to her. She was angry. I was upset. Things happen. She was right, though."

Telamon kisses her softly, and lets her rest her head on his shoulder. "Never leaving you, sweets. Like I told you. You're stuck with me."

He winces a little, evidently able to imagine Aryia's reaction. "Aryia... tends to flare up. It's like being mute, all the energy of speaking had to go somewhere. She's intense, and frankly is a little scary sometimes." He looks wry. "Feel free to tell her that next time. I'm sure she'll appreciate it. And Grandfather, well... there's not getting around the 'fey lord' part. People are always going to be looking for his angle. Even when his only angle is, well... getting to know and love the granddaughter he never knew, and the grandson-by-marriage she's bringing along."

"Irshya, the lady who runs the place, said she'd talk to Aryia for me--she sort of saw the whole thing," Ravenstongue explains. "She was able to comfort me--and gave me the free soup, too. I think that's why I didn't arrive home a crying wreck."

She just continues to keep close to Telamon as though she doesn't want to let go of his presence for even a moment. Even half an inch could spell some sort of uncertain doom. "I wish she could see it my way," she says. "But... I get why people would be suspicious."

But Ravenstongue rubs her nose against his affectionately. "I guess it means the less house guests we have to chat with Grandfather, the more time we have together?" she asks, trying to find a positive spin on the whole thing.

Telamon nods. "I'll work on Aryia as well. She won't swat me around." He pauses. "...hopefully." He squeezes Raven back. "I hate it when you cry. All I can think of is, 'how do I make it stop?'." He seems perfectly happy to hold her close, not moving away a tiny bit.

"We're all defined by our experiences. Remember how unnerved I was, because of my father's worries, and Feadril -- and I -know- Grandfather. And it's hard to step back, to assess things calmly. Even harder when it's a friend. Or a lover. Or your future spouse."

He kisses her lightly. "Speaking of guests, I have been given an invitation. Some of the Shining Chalice members have expressed interest in speaking to us as a couple." His expression becomes slightly sardonic. "I've already told them that any excessively personal questions will not be appreciated."

"I remember," Ravenstongue says, echoing his words. She's smiling even more now, the memory of worry turned into the memories of the journey they went on afterwards. Strange prince, cloakers, and all. "And it led to us becoming even stronger."

She blinks a little as she realizes that the Chalice members want to speak to them both. "Oh no. They're not going to draw blood from me for studying, are they? I, umm..."

She looks a little queasy. "Full disclosure? The pact kind of... involved me drinking Grandfather's blood. Sort of? I'm pretty sure it was his blood. It tasted like blood, anyway. I'm sure the Chalice will have so many questions for me if they just cast an arcane sight spell on me."

Telamon makes a face of distaste. "Love, I really could've done without learning -that-. And you might not want to share that outside these walls, either. It sounds a bit too close to necromancy and the last thing we need is an inquisitor or priest asking uncomfortable questions."

Alright, reproach issued. He shakes his head at the question. "But no. I was very clear this was going to be questions, not drawing blood or anything of that nature. And if anyone offered you an impertinence I would be -very- cross."

"Well, Grandfather told me I had to be transparent with you," Ravenstongue replies, pouting a little. "Of course I wasn't going to tell anyone else. And honestly--because of the nature of it being in the borderlands between Althea and Quelynos, like what we experienced with the Feypool... I don't know what was real and what wasn't real, honestly."

But she recovers from the reproach with a little smile as she thinks about the Chalice meeting some more. "Does this mean if someone tries to flirt with me, I'll get to see you threaten them? It sounds like you have some people there without much practical sense about them."

He nuzzles her gently. "Ugh. The Feypool was... bizarre. I could probably handle it better now, but that was definitely not my idea of a pleasant afternoon. Even if it gave us a good idea of what dream-walking could be like."

Tel furrows his brow at the question about the Chalice. "It's... mixed. It started as a social club for dilettantes, but it later became something of a magical support society, particularly for the well-to-do and minor nobles. Aspects and sorcery, things I like to call 'talent', and study of the stars to determine courses of action."

He sighs. "Unfortunately, when you deal with the nobility, you never know if you'll get some earnest but inexperienced lad or lass, or some jumped up idiot who thinks his title and his talent make him the gods' gift to every woman who crosses his path."

"The Feypool was..." Ravenstongue finds the words for a moment. "It was beautiful. It was also horrifying. I would say, overall? ...I did kind of have fun."

If that isn't a reminder for Telamon that his wife-to-be is feytouched, then little else could be. She certainly looks rather proud of herself as she remembers the whole thing.

But soon, her attention returns to Telamon. She gets a certain look in her eyes again. "I can think of a talent you have that makes you the gods' gift to me in bed."

A beat. "...Was that one better?" she asks. She's trying. Gods, is she trying.

Telamon hmms. "I don't know. I thought Skiel was going to have a come-apart when I grabbed the second eye. Granted, he didn't know the fire wasn an illusion."

At her words, though, he responds by kissing her quite firmly, and smiles. "Getting better at it. Don't worry... we have time to work on it. Together."

And with that, the pair retire to the bedroom.