Winter Wind and Cozy Living

From Tenebrae
Jump to navigation Jump to search

Log Info

  • Title: Winter Wind and Cozy Living
  • Emitter: Ravenstongue
  • Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house
  • Summary: It's a bad weather day in Alexandria, which means it's time to stay inside. Ravenstongue and Telamon enjoy some cups of soup and discuss their recent adventuring exploits, as well as sentiments about their post-married life.

Lúpecyll-Atlon home, afternoon.

Dark clouds gather overhead, threatening either rain or snow on the winter afternoon. The cold wind does a fine job of urging people indoors where possible, blowing so harshly at times that it chills to the bone.

Thankfully, the Lúpecyll-Atlon home is a fine refuge from the weather. The lady of the house--or Lady, if you believe the pixies--sits on the couch, nursing a wide-rimmed cup of tomato soup that's filled with little star-shaped noodles. Her hair is mildly damp from the fact that she's just stepped out of a hot bath. "Thank you for the soup," she says to Telamon with a smile. "Awful day out today. I was thinking about heading to one of the bookstores nearby, but not with weather like this."

There's a nice pot of soup still on, enough for both Telamon and even Pothy. The other sorcerer in the household ambles over to the couch as well, holding a couple mugs to match Lana's. Tel nods. "I kind of expected it, hence the hot soup." He sets one down for Pothy on the table, before settling on the couch with Lana. "I suppose we should count our blessings; if it was any colder we'd be snowed in."

Tel's expression turns faintly wry. "I remember last year, complaining about the weather. I'll try not to grumble too much this time around, since I've so much to be thankful for."

Cor'lana's eyes twinkle with Telamon's remarks as she takes the opportunity and snuggles up close to him. "We are very blessed this year," she says. "A new family name, new relatives--and all of the things we can do now compared to this time last year."

Pothy, who had been in the study, hears the remarks about soup and swoops in on cream-white wings, settling down on the table. "And so many snacks," he says happily, before he digs in.

"Yes, Pothy, so many snacks," Cor'lana says with a snicker. "There was a lot to endure, too--and still is--but I can safely say this year is the happiest year of my life." She looks at Telamon with a wide grin. "And you're a large part of why."

Telamon sips a little of his soup, before setting it down to cuddle up. "Mmm. Amazing the difference a year makes." His eyes are thoughtful. "I sometimes wonder what would've become of us if we hadn't found each other. I'm glad I won't have to find out." He looks at Lana with a smile. "I know it's crazy, but I really do feel like you keep me grounded."

Pothy's arrival makes him chuckle. "Yes, Pothy. And we're coming up to Yule season too, which means even more snacks. Oh, Burz has offered to teach me how to smoke and grill over coals, in exchange for giving one of his younger cousins an examination. Seems the lad might have 'the talent' and they'd like me to look into it."

Cor'lana sticks her tongue out. "I feel like you would have been just fine," she says. "Without me, that is. I mean, you were dashing and wonderful from the word 'go'--a man who can stand on his own feet and get by in the world just fine. I don't know what I would have been like--for all of my imagination, I simply can't picture it."

"I can picture... eating snacks," Pothy says, cheerily. "The nice thing about being me is that I always get something to eat. It's why I never panic too much about my own well-being in the face of danger. There's always another meal for me. My inheritor, on the other hand..."

That gets a playful pout from Cor'lana. "You keep talking like that, and Telamon might not feed you his experiments from cooking lessons," she says. "Which I am certainly looking forward to. I have to wonder if Grandfather has any experience with that type of cooking." She looks at Telamon and says, "It'd be interesting if the boy did become a sorcerer. It can just 'happen' from time to time, too."

Telamon rocks a hand back and forth. "I don't know. You remember the book I mentioned, 'The Circles of Longing'? I... it's easy to see how caught up you can get in your own magical prowess and start losing sight of important things." He kisses Lana's cheek. "That's why I'm glad you have me, and I have you. Because at the end of the day, nothing's more important to me than you."

At Pothy's sally, Tel just rolls his eyes. "Mind like the greatest libraries in Alexandria, and all he talks about is food. Pothy, you're incorrigible."

At the mention of the boy, Tel shrugs lightly. "The talent will sleep, until it rouses. There's a pretty good paper on the matter at the university -- I'll get you a copy if you like -- but it boils down to, 'we're really not sure why it doesn't immediately pop up'. Sages have backtracked to where the talent might've sprung from, but nobody can quite predict where it'll appear."

Cor'lana seems to think of something--and apparently, it's quite funny, because she just starts giggling out of nowhere. This is the feytouched aspect of Telamon's bride at work.

Pothy looks at Cor'lana for a moment and bird-blinks. "What's so funny?" he asks.

"Sorry!" Cor'lana eeks out between giggles, and she just nuzzles into Telamon for a moment, calming herself down. "I just... I pictured Telamon all alone, in a library with ink splattered all over his cheek because he fell asleep while writing. And it just was so funny to me."

She leans in and kisses Telamon on the cheek in return for the one he gave her. "I don't know if I would have been bold enough to wake you and get you cleaned up, or if I'd just drape a blanket over you. Knowing me, I would have gone for the former."

Telamon hugs Lana close. "Honestly, I find I don't want to do anything 'alone' these days. Oh, sure, there are times when I have to push the broom and work on something in the study. But there's a reason there's no lock on the study door. I don't ever want to block you out."

He picks up his mug again for more soup. "Speaking of being together, I was thinking about this a while back, but got sidetracked. I was contemplating putting in a small greenhouse for year-round growing -- nothing fancy, mind you, but it'd be nice to have access to herbs whatever the season. Wanted to get your thoughts on it."

Cor'lana makes a happy hum indeed as she's hugged. It's a sweet moment where she just basks in the warmth and his words. "I feel similarly," she says. "Which is why I like to work on my poetry out here. Although you can be a bit of a distraction if you happen to be without your tunic." The feytouched playfulness twinkles in her eyes again.

Then she looks thoughtful at the mention of the greenhouse. "I actually really like that idea," she says. "It'd be really nice to have, especially since those herbs could be used in all sorts of things we could cook. And I'm sure the pixies would love to help you with it. I know that they've been pretty restless lately without nearly so much greenery to interact with."

"Tell them to stop putting flowers on my book nest," Pothy says with a grumble. "I don't care how bored they are. I like my nest the way I keep it."

Telamon laughs softly. "Says the girl who, if Grandfather hadn't come by, was going to greet me fresh from the bath without a robe." He looks thoughtful. "It's the difference between 'I'm alone solely by choice and I can change it in an instant as needed' and 'I'm alone because I have no choice', I guess. I want the choice. Choices, for good or ill, are better than not choosing at all."

Tel's expression grows wry at the thought of the pixies. "Approaching them will be entertaining. Lily, of course, will be all for it, but I'd like some input from Mirabilis before I start." He smirks. "And I'm sure they'll be happy that I'm not planning anything exotic in there."

Cor'lana looks wholly innocent, batting her eyelashes. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she says, before bursting into another fit of giggles.

"I'm surprised you kept a straight face for that long," Pothy remarks, before he sips some soup.

The sorceress eventually recovers, and she nods emphatically. "Definitely speak to Mirabilis first," she says. "She's the realist of the two. I often think that she might have just enough intelligence to compensate for both of them. I think Lily might be the advocate for the strange, but it's pretty easy to tell her no."

She smirks a little. "Especially since you are now 'Lord Lúpecyll'. Has that gotten to your head yet?"

Telamon snorts. "I think your definition of 'exotic' and mine might deviate a bit, love. But then, there's a tale to tell there. No, honestly, the idea of 'Lord Lúpecyll' really hasn't sunk in yet. Every time I think of asserting it, I think, 'Why not just declare yourself king of the stars too?'." He laughs softly. "Ah well. Give it time."

"But, I digress. I ran across an account of a Mythwood diplomatic envoy -- this wasn't father, by the way -- who had been helping broker a deal on neutral ground. In this case, a wizard's mansion. And the wizard, well... he liked growing things but he didn't quite see the point of animal husbandry, so..." His expression becomes slightly disgusted. "He figured 'Why bother with the cow, just grow it on the vine.'"

Cor'lana just stares at the account Telamon presents, and it takes her a moment before she actually understands the implication. Her expression turns into a cringe of disgust. "Ugh," she exclaims, shuddering. "That's... Ugh. That is weird. No, nothing like that in the greenhouse, please. That just feels wrong."

Pothy looks between the two. "I don't see what all the fuss is about," he says. "I'd try it at least once."

Cor'lana just glares at Pothy. "Pothy, you wanted to sample a poor man whose skin jellified thanks to the sordid influence of aboleths."

"I don't get what the big deal was about that," Pothy grumbles. He returns to his soup.

Telamon exhales deeply. "Pothy..." he says in a stern tone. "It was not normal even by the somewhat stretched definitions you have in a world of artifice and magic. The account was rather... lurid in detail. I suspect the diplomat was going to send it on to someone as part of a formal complaint, but... the situation resolved itself. A codicil adds that the wizard disappeared. Along with his garden, and his mansion."

Tel's expression is sardonic. "So no, there will be no chicken breast plants. Lavender, and other herbs, yes. If gods forbid I wind up with some kind of noble endowment, a tract of land, I'll hire farmers and herders to raise proper livestock."

"Disappeared, huh," Cor'lana says with a small smirk. "I wonder if that diplomat happened to be a diplomat-sorcerer like yourself. More likely, however, that the wizard simply 'stepped out' of existence. No one to ground him."

She kisses Telamon on the cheek. "Just another good reason you have me, I suppose," she adds with a grin, "although I don't think everyone would agree that having a feytouched sorceress for a bride is much in the way of grounding. And... You do know how much I love flying. Especially when we dance with the stars watching over us in the sky." Cor'lana looks entirely too pleased with herself for the wordplay.

She places her finished mug on the table, where Pothy gives it a brief glance and a small whining noise when he realizes it's empty. "I thought our whole arrangement was that I got your leftovers and you get to make kissy-faces," Pothy mock-complains. "Have fun, lovebirds." He flaps back to the study.

Telamon nods. "Like I said. We keep each other carefully balanced. My stargazing, your fey mischief." He brushes his nose against Lana's. "Well, if he's off somewhere in never-never-where, at least he's not causing trouble here on Ea. There's enough trouble to be found as is."

He blushes ever so slightly at the mention of dancing and flying. "Someone asked if that was us last week, pirouetting over the memorial gardens. I had to admit it was." He snuggles Lana close, and smirks at Pothy's grumbling. "You got a full mug to yourself, you glutton," he fires back. "The bird has no shame at all. None."

Cor'lana giggles as she's curled up so close to Telamon. "I can't say that Pothy's completely unfamiliar with shame," she says, "but he certainly doesn't know it very often. I scolded him when he ate the entire food supply of Farland's magnificent mansion spell. I think the only reason he regretted that because he got sick and I told him off a little since, obviously, I had to clean it up." She rolls her eyes.

She looks a little self-pleased again. "I wish you'd been on that adventure with me," she says. "I didn't realize it until we were headed home, but I kind of thought to myself, 'I wish he could have seen me flying in the sky and facing down the curse of the Felwood.' I... think I'm beginning to really approach my mother's level of ability. That's kind of exciting to think about."

Telamon just boggles at that story. "Amazing. If you'd told me Pothy could overeat, I'd have never believed it. That's... crazy. It kind of makes sense, though." He chuckles. "Well, maybe he'll learn a little restraint in the future. Maybe."

He squeezes Lana close. "I won't say I'm pleased you were in danger. But I am pleased that you could take care of yourself. I sleep a lot better at night knowing my wife is not one to be trifled with, and that her wrath is no less potent than my own."

"Restraint? For all of the things that Pothy knows, I don't think he knows that one." Cor'lana snickers. "I kind of doubt that he ever will."

But of course, she can't resist the squeeze, and she shifts herself so that she's in his lap, bringing a blanket draped over the couch with her as she throws it around them both. "We're both powerful because we know that this is what's waiting at home for us," she says, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek. "Warmth, love, life, and happiness. Sure, we have so much more to lose now compared to a year ago--but I think that's why we've gotten so much stronger. Especially when we're together."

Telamon laughs softly. "I walked into that one, didn't I? Well, that'll teach me. He'll grow up one day, though. Eventually." When Lana slides onto his lap with blanket, he's more than happy to cuddle her close.

"People... small-minded people, I would add... will say such things are a weakness. They don't understand what it's like to stand for something, or someone. And the happiness that comes from having such a bond. There's a really good khazad sentiment about it -- love is the forge-fire that helps make a relationship." His eyes twinkle at Lana. "So, my dear... care to stoke the forges with me?"

And life goes on, in the Lúpecyll-Atlon home.