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Realms: Idlewild Logs

January 18

Jan 18 2004

After Clairchiare takes himself off to look for Rathskeliad-- "Oni"-- to invite him and his betrothed Linden to dinner, Linden herself stays a little awkwardly to chat, and after a little while of fidgeting on the couch suggests timidly that the garden is also pleasant. Only Steven takes her up on it-- the others having possibly noticed that she is most at ease around the quiet monk-- and they relocate to a garden bench just across the path from the suite door. Linden relaxes more when out under the open sky, and cheerfully points out more plant names and habits, although none of these are murderous.

Steven listens attentively as she points them out, quite much more at ease with this portion of the garden tour. Plants that don't have as their main purpose in life to scoop him up and eat him are very relaxing, though he's wary that there might be a colorful plant of which Lindenel says 'Oh, and this one turns people into murky sludge,' about half a second after he gets pricked by it's thorn.

While the enjoyable walk continues, he keeps up a small line of conversation, hopefully nothing that would distress her, carefully avoiding subjects of Rathskeliad, the other elves, and... well, Rathskeliad. He does, however, listen for any mention of Claichiare, specifically Clairchiare's mother, since Lindenel mentioned that she was one of the people who had tended the little island of roses in the middle of the carnivorous garden.

Soothingly, nothing actually displays thorns yet. The guest garden is mostly ivies and moss, textures of green. Linden points out a type of ivy that almost matches her pale-green hair and says something enthusiastic along the lines of how it can be eaten in a salad under the full moon to prevent squirrel attacks until the next full moon, but does not bring up Clairchiare or his mother of her own accord. Rathskeliad also fails to make an appearance in her topics, much like everything else that isn't leafbearing.

Steven decides not to broach any subject that she doesn't bring up. "Squirrel attacks?" he asks. "Do those happen often?" He pictures the elvish version of squirrels to be the size of cows, nibble on polar bears for appetizers and floss gigantic razor-sharp iron-edged buck teeth with high-grade carbon steel cable; but he doesn't dare mention that Grey World squirrels are small, innocuous, and relatively harmless.

Linden blinks seriously at Steven. "Well, not so much to anyone our size."

Steven smiles, and nods, "Just checking. In our.. trip here we ran into a lot of things. Taught me not to take anything for granted." Including, Pelor help me, the possibility that squirrels could be inordinately vicious here. Though that attitude didn't help avoid getting the boot to the head from a wooden chest.

Nodding, Linden says earnestly, "Oh, but that's the best rule for anywhere. Especially here-- don't stop. Perhaps it's lucky you were sent a reminder, if you're not used to doing it?"

Steven gingerly touches the poultice. "Erm... yes, very lucky, actually. I'm trying hard to remember that constantly, even now."

Linden smiles gently. "I'm very good with bruises. It'll be gone by morning, don't worry."

Steven smiles. "And I'm very grateful. Thank you again for it. If I can ask, how did you get interested in herbs and plants?"

Linden looks shyly proud. "Oh, it runs in the family, you could say. I find that I can tell what almost any plant is good for if I smell it or taste it... I'm not pure elf, but there are compensations for that, and so few of us are in the last few centuries, anyway, that marrying me isn't as much of a burden as it would have been back before then."

Steven nods a little, restraining his curiosity in inquiring what might be a painful or at least delicate subject. "That's a very remarkable and rare gift, isn't it? To know that well the properties of plant?" Only part elf.. something in her heritage? She's not all that different from the otehr elves. That could be why she's put down upon by the others. The treefolk?

Linden actually grins briefly. "If you're not part deer, yes."

Steven blinks in surprise. Well, that's hardly more unusual than what we've seen before. Careful, I don't want to make her think this changes how I look at her.. because, really, it doesn't. "I guess that would be very rare otherwise." He grins back, "If not nonexistent."

Linden bobs her head, ears flickering a little, and seems pleased. She goes on quietly pointing out plants, relaxing even further, and seems almost happy.

Steven doesn't push any more, instead enjoying the time with her, being very interested in the (relatively safe) plants she shows him (and keeping mental notes for when they're next in the wild) and just simply letting her be happy.

Aiden and Rathskeliad walk into the garden not too long later, and Rathskeliad smiles at everyone as he calls Linden "My lady" and bows before taking her away again with both regrets that he cannot join them for dinner tonight-- and a promise to join them tomorrow instead. Linden tenses and goes quiet as soon as her betrothed appears-- though she bows to him and addresses him as "my lord" in turn, she says not a word after that, allowing him to make both their farewells. Aiden and Steven are left alone in the garden.

Aiden looks at Steven and says, "I'm going to get Seodil. I'll meet you back here. Found a couple things out."

Steven watches as the two depart, fighting down the sudden sense of unease that started gnawing at the pit of his stomach as soon as the Ogre -- no, Oni -- no, Rathskeliad, showed up. he glances to Aiden as the two depart. "If you have any problems with squirrels, Linden showed me somethign that can help."

Aiden gives Steven an odd look. "Oh. Okay." He walks back into their suite, quite baffled. He walks over to Seodil's door and knocks quietly at it.

"Come," says the silver elf's voice. The doorway clears. His new clothing is laid out over the entire surface of the bed, and he's considering a silvery grey tunic with pale blue sleeves over tight, darker grey pants with a critical eye.

Aiden smiles at Seodil. "Sir. Linden has left, and Rathskeliad came. I found out a couple of things, including one of our missing people."

Steven settles down onto one of the benches, lookingg over at where Aiden is talking with Seodil.

Seodil smiles back, looking pleased. "Are you going to tell me now, or do we still have Steven nearby to join us?"

Aiden says, "Steven's out in the garden. Would you prefer to join us there or do you want me to bring him back to the common room?"

Seodil's eyes look distinctly pleased. "We shall go there among the green things. Come." He walks out with a gentle hand between Aiden's shoulders to bring him along in step.

Aiden nods, "Certainly, Sir." He follows the lead that Seodil gives him, heading back for the garden where Steven is.

Steven stands politely as the two arrive, and he nods in greeting, smiling. He's so far managed to keep thoughts of attacking squirrels and carnivorous chests out of his thoughts while just sitting there, instead considering what Lindenel mentioned about being part deer.

Settling onto a marble bench after they arrive, Seodil nods pleasantly to Steven and then tilts his head expectantly at Aiden. "So, we are together. Go on with your news, Aiden."

Aiden settles down on the bench Seodil is sitting on. "So. Rathskeliad's mother is one of the missing people. He said she'd gone to the ocean, to hunt. Apparently she hasn't been gone long, he didn't give an exactly number, only that she'd gone fairly recently. I have no idea what that means, though. Recently could be a few days.. or a few weeks."

Seodil nods thoughtfully. "And who is Rathskeliad's mother? I did not know him when I was a child..."

Aiden shakes his head, "That I don't know yet. I'm going to talk to Clairchiare after, or during, dinner tonight and see if I can get my hands on that book so we can find out who she is."

Seodil nods, "The Book of Names will--" and stops, as footsteps come echoing up the path. Moments later, Clairchiare arrives, looking as cheerful as usual. "I could not persuade my Oni," the pink-hairedelf announces, "But we shall have him and the lovely Lindenel on the morrow at this hour. Tonight, there is only myself for your pleasure, alas." He sweeps a light-hearted bow at them with a flourish.

Aiden smiles at Clairchiare. "Good evening, Clairchiare. Shame about Rathskeliad and Lindenel, but we're glad to have you with or without."

Steven smiles quietly, and nods in greeting to Clairchiare.

Clairchiare beams. "I shall endeavor to be of good service, kind Aiden. Dinner is doubtless served soon; shall we adjourn to your companion room?" He looks concerned. "Where is the Prince of Winter?"

Aiden says, "He's napping. I'll wake him." He stands and starts towards the suite, then stops to say, "I'll be back, with the Prince, shortly."

Clairchiare looks puzzled. "Certainly, if you are not yet hungry, discourse under the sky is always pleasant."

The suite smells of food as soon as Aiden passes the doorway. Dinner has been served in the usual spot for magically-appearing food.

Aiden glances over at the food, but doesn't pause. He goes to the door of the room he shares with Sol, opens it, shuts it behind him and goes over to the bed, sitting on the edge. He puts a hand on Sol's shoulder and says, "Soleil."

Steven sniffs a bit, and smiles, "I think dinner already is served...."

Clairchiare nods a bit quizzically. "It is the hour." His tone implies a polite 'of course.'

Soleil uncurls from his sideways sprawl to blink amber eyes at Aiden. "Mgg?" Recognition hits the eyes-- though the lack of startlement at the touch suggests that deeper parts knew perfectly well who was waking him-- and the taller elf grins and tries to pull Aiden into bed.

Aiden grins at Soleil, but resists the elf's attempts to pull him into bed. "We have company, Sol, and dinner is being served as we speak. Time to get up."

Sol mutters something that sounds like an accusation that Aiden is a big meanie, in only slightly different phrasing. He rolls off the bed to his feet, fully dressed including boots. The next noise sounds like "Alright." Mostly.

Aiden chuckles faintly, especially when Sol resorts to calling him names. "I'll meet you outside." He opens the door and heads back out to the group. "The Prince is on his way."

Steven ers, and nods, "Well, ah.. I'm not too good with keeping track of time...." Steven, this is why you keep your mouth shut....

The Prince in fact arrives shortly, looking sleep-ruffled, and gives everyone a brilliant smile. "H'lo!"

Clairchiare is smiling at Steven, a little bemused. "I am sure you will learn the rhythm of our days before long..." He doesn't sound sure. He sounds polite, though. Seodil actually steps into the breach with a gentle reminder to his brother the the Summer Court's Winter guests are not exactly used to keeping a schedule of any kind that involves anyone serving them regular food, and the pink elf goes pinker as he apologizes immediately to Steven.

Soleil wakes up a little more and says under his breath to Aiden, "Why're we out here, again?"

Steven smiles, "Hello, Soleil. And no worries, Clairchiare, it's something we'll get used to. Probably quite easilly, too, with the excellent food."

Aiden smiles at Soleil. "A little before-dinner conversation." And gives him a look meant to imply that he'll tell him more later.

Aiden nods. "I agree whole-heartedly with Steven in this, Clairchiare."

Clairchiare looks deeply relieved. Sol speaks up in bright tones, perhaps determined to get the conversation out of the way so he can have his dinner sooner. "No other guests tonight?"

Aiden shakes his head, "Rathskeliad came by to collect Lindenel. Said he had a dinner engagement that he couldn't break. He'll be by for dinner tomorrow, with Lindenel."

Sol nods. "Oh. So... anything else interesting happen while I was asleep? Clairchiare? Anyone?"

Clairchiare does speak up, with a polite laugh. "Only if you consider a note from my mother interesting, good Prince Soleil."

Aiden says, "I hope she's well."

The pink-haired elf winks and says, "If you do, I am sure she would be honored to see you when she returns..." he pauses and nods happily at Aiden, "Oh, quite. Sea air always agrees with her."

Aiden flicks his eyes over to Seodil quickly, saying lightly. "Doesn't sea air agree with everyone?" He smiles at Clairchiare, then glances over towards the other room. He wasn't hungry at all, until he walked past the food on his way to get Soleil. Now he's finding himself quite hungry.

Soleil is mostly doing a very good job of not fidgeting. He says helpfully, "I hear it's good for the appetite." He glances longingly at the doorway to their suite.

Steven remains quiet, not entirely sure (especially after his wonderful gaffe earlier) what to say, but his mind does turn and whirl for ways to find out more information about Clairchiare's mother.

Aiden says, "Shall we eat?"

Seodil barely twitches an eyebrow at the news that another missing court member has been found. "Indeed. Isn't Rathskeliad's mother also fond of the ocean, Clairchiare?"

Soleil says, "Yes! Er. Why don't we all continue this over dinner?" and beams at the company as he stands, offering a hand to Aiden.

Steven nods, "A good idea, yes...."

Aiden takes Soleil's hand and heads over into the other room, keeping his ears turned to what Seodil and Clairchiare are saying. He waits until Soleil settles before he sits.

Clairchiare rises, adjusting the folds of his velvet coat behind him so they settle and fall properly. He murmurs absently to Seodil as they all file in, "Oh yes, they're probably there together. Friends since before I was born, you know."

Soleil settles the issue of whether anyone has to wait for the royalty to take the first bite by taking it as soon as everyone's seated, and then proceeding to pour wine for everyone in range.

Steven asks, "Really?" It's not much, but maybe it'll goad Clairchiare into talking more about them.

Aiden fills any glasses that aren't in Sol's reach before he sits down himself. He helps himself to food, giving Clairchiare an interested look when Steven asks the question.

Clairchiare smiles at Steven with all the earmarks of sincere pleasure in the subject. "Oh, quite. One of the longest alliances without a squabble that this bright but hot-tempered court has probably ever seen. Some friendships seem to wax and wane-- especially women, you know?-- but the Ladies Averet and Shh have always been steadfast in each other's support. In a way, I almost feel as though we're all family. Oni's always been there for me, too."

Aiden nods, mostly to himself. That would explain why Clairchiare and Rathskeliad are so close. Sounds like they've very nearly been raised together. He eats, using the food as an excuse not to comment for now, but he does keep up the interested looks and signs that he's listening to the conversation.

Steven nods as well; he's not at all sure enough about Summer naming conventions -- or even Winter! -- to ask about Rathskeliad's mother's family name. It's rather daunting, though.

Clairchiare applies himself to dinner after that enthusiastic recommendation, however, and is not more forthcoming about his family life after the easy comment, "We really hardly missed having fathers, with a brother and two mothers apiece. So, I shouldn't talk about myself so much, I will bore you! Is there anything I can do to see to your comfort here? Anything we have forgotten to supply you with?"

Aiden swallows the mouthful of food that he has, to look over at Clairchiare. "Actually. There was one thing, if I can ask you about it a little later? I'd hate to interrupt dinner with requests, but I do have a small one."

Steven shakes his head, and glances to the others; Aiden was going to mention the library, after all. "I.. can't really think of anything at all. Your hospitality and generosity has been wonderful.

"Oh, only strict business is impolite over dinner without warning, Aiden." Clairchiare grins. "Do go on." He beams at Steven, "Excellent! Please, do not hesitate to ask if you do feel a lack. I am at your service while you bide here."

Seodil watches his brother a little distantly through all this, but even while one is distant their movements are disturbingly similar, down to the small gestures and body language-- even the way they hold a glass and drink.

Soleil takes delighted advantage of the others carrying the conversation and eats. Everything in sight.

Aiden smiles. "Well. In light of Soleil taking morning rides from this point on, I was sort of looking for something to occupy myself with. I was hoping maybe you might have a library of some sort that I can borrow a couple of things from, to while away the idle times."

Clairchiare frowns, but it looks more thoughtful than displeased. "I will have to seek permission for you to remove any books, as that is not customarily granted to anyone but the more serious scholars, but I can easily arrange for you to be given access to the library itself if you do not mind doing your reading there, while I query my princess about removing books from their habitat? A number of things cannot be relocated as there are no chains here, so if your interest is more magical, you would need to enter the library itself regardless." He looks apologetic.

Steven shivers a bit, remembering the last time he had chains assosciated with books.

Aiden shakes his head, "Oh, not magical at all. I am a scholar of sorts, though it tends to be history, and plants, both of which here are curiosities to me. I'm certainly not after anything magical in nature, just a good solid text on the plants that make their homes here, and perhaps a history of the courts."

Aiden actually looks a little wistful while he's talking. He did, afterall, get dragged here right before he finished university back home and he wasn't quite ready to give up school yet.

Clairchiare says, "Oh, perfect! If you like, I can arrange an escort to the library for you as soon as tomorrow morning during your prince's ride. History and practical magics and other lore is more or less the entirety of the library, Aiden." He grins.

Aiden smiles, "Thank you, Clairchiare. I appreciate that. It'll be nice to be in a library again."

Everyone has more or less finished dinner. Clairchiare looks pleased and promises Aiden a guide for the morning, as he rises to make his farewells.

Aiden rises politely, "Have a pleasant evening, Clairchiare. Thank you for joining us for dinner tonight."

Steven stands politely as well as Clairchiare prepares to depart, racking his brain to make sure he hasn't forgotten to ask anything... especually with Rathskeliad showing up the next evening. "Yes, thank you. It was very enjoyable."

As Sol and Seodil rise with their own farewells, Clairchiare bows elegantly, coattails falling into place with perfect elegance. "Thank you all. I also enjoyed the evening in your company, and shall look forward to tomorrow's gathering. Prince Soleil, I will see you in the morning, of course." He smiles brightly and sweeps off in a roseate swirl of hair and velvet coat.

Aiden sits down when Clairchiare has left, apparently content to chew on his own thoughts for a while.

They all trickle off to bed after that without much discussion, the day's events having provided enough room for thought but not quite enough in the way of answers to feel that a solution to strangeness has been achieved. Morning comes as it predictably does, bringing with it Soleil's usual reluctance to rise quite that early-- and Clairchiare waiting politely in the common room to help provide Aiden a reason to ensure that Soleil gets up anyway. After seeing them off for their morning ride and having time to avail himself of thebreakfast spread, Aiden notices that someone has turned up in the doorway. Yellow-haired Ilirith the head gardener, who asked him outright if he was willing to stand stud to try to breed those blue eyes true.

Aiden smiles at Ilirith, "Good morning, Ilirith. I hope the day finds you well?" THANKS, Clairchiare.

Ilirith flips her impossibly yellow hair back and grins at Aiden. "It had no more trouble finding me today than it did yesterday."

Steven hears the commotions outside, and prepares himself for the day. He casts a glance at the ambulatory chests as he pulls on his catfur cloak, and checks his eye to see if the bruise has gone down. Satisfied, he nods to the chests, still a little wary. "Have a good one, guys," he says, and opens up the doorway, half-glancing back to see if they'll make any reaction. Man, I'm starting to get paranoid, he berates himself.

Aiden grins back at her. There's nothing to outwardly show that he's at all uncomfortable. "You're a little earlier than I expected. Give me a moment to get ready? I'll be as quick as I can, I promise. I don't want to keep you waiting."

The chests do not give Steven the satisfaction of confirming his sanity by doing anything out of the ordinary. Even the evidence that one left on his face is gone as if it was never a bruise... as if no little wooden feet ever kicked Steven in the face.

Ilirith says cheerily from the doorway, "Of course. May I come in and sit down? I've been up for hours by now."

Aiden says, "Oh! I'm sorry, how rude of me. Please, come in, have a seat. I'll be back in just a moment."

Aiden goes into his room, to pull on a shirt and, most importantly, his cloak. It doesn't take him more than a few minutes to get ready, and he returns to the common room.

Steven isn't sure if he should be relieved or dismayed by the lack of reaction from the chests. A wierd thought enters his mind: Maybe they're waiting for me to lower my guard...? he shakes his head. Gah! Do NOT go there! They're just luggage! They're not out to 'get you!' Sheesh! What next? As he comes out, he sees Ilirith and smiles, nodding politely. "Good morning to you."

Ilirith nods to Steven in his doorway, "Are you a scholar as well?"

Steven pauses, then nods. "Something of one. I guess more in religion and philosophy than anything, though I try to learn a bit about everything."

Aiden looks up, "Morning, Steven. Are you going to join us?"

Steven smiles, "Good morning. I would like to, if I may."

Ilirith says, "Oh, a philosopher!" and appears delighted. "Tell me, does the tendency run in your family?"

Aiden nods, "Fine by me. I'm going to let Seodil know that we're going. I'll be back in a moment." He gives Ilirith an apologetic look. "I'm sorry for the delays." He goes towards Seodil's room, knocking softly on the door. He doesn't want to wake the silver elf, if he's still sleeping.

She adds, "You're perfectly welcome to join us, Steven, provided you don't free the books either." Ilirith grins.

Seodil's soft voice says, "You may come in, Aiden," as the door opens.

Aiden steps into the room, "Good morning, Sir." He drops his voice so that it won't carry to the others. "We're about to leave for the library. Clairchiare sent Ilirith to guide us. Any last-minute instructions?"

Steven smiles quietly to Ilirith,"I'm afraid I don't know that, ma'am. I never knew my birth parents. And I have no intention of freeing any books."

Seodil gives Aiden a lazy good-morning smile from bed, where he's not wearing a stitch but his long hair. When he sits up, the hip-length silver fall makes him almost decent. Almost. "I am quite pleased that you asked, Aiden, but I respect your intelligence and have no concrete instructions for your research at this time. Use your own judgement today, and I have confidence it will suffice. If I have guidance for your work after you have gathered more information today, I will certainly make sure you know it." His small smile looks lazy, but his eyes are sharply alert.

Aiden bobs his head, nearly a bow. "Certainly, Sir. I will see how I do today and come to you with what I find out, and seek your guidance. Would tonight be alright?"

Seodil tilts his head at Aiden. "Before or after dinner...?"

Aiden spreads his hands, "Perhaps before, after if before ends up not working out, or being interrupted." He pauses, then adds. "Perhaps both. I am not expected tonight." He leaves it at that.

Seodil's silver eyebrows rise a fraction, but his smile widens and his eyes are... warmer? Quietly dignified, he says "Both would please me a great deal. At the least, then, I shall expect to see you afterward... come here, Aiden."

Aiden nods, echoing that smile. He walks over to Seodil's bedside.

Taking Aiden's right hand, Seodil drops a kiss into the palm, then closes Aiden's fingers over it. "For later. It will keep." He smiles. "Now go."

Aiden's smile widens at that. "I will see you soon, Sir. Enjoy your day." He heads back out into the main room, closing Seodil's door behind him, and looks at Steven and Ilirith. "Alright. Sorry about that. Wanted to ensure that everyone would know where we are."

Ilirith says politely, "And the rest of everyone was in there, of course. I understand. Follow me, then... How is the Prince this morning?"

Aiden follows Ilirith, careful to pay attention to where they're going. "The Prince is well, thank you for asking."

Steven nods to Aiden, and follows them both out,managing to keep from looking at Ilirith oddly. Well, it seems they're not trying to breed 'cheeky' out.

Leading the men onward, Ilirith says cheerfully, "Pleased to hear it. I almost worried he might still be in bed at this hour, perhaps laid low by the warmth here. Temperature changes do affect those without leaves adversely too if there's a sudden change, I've noticed."

Steven asks, "I'm sorry, leaves?" before he remembers that asking questions like that makes him look like an idiot.

Aiden says, "The Prince is adjusting to the temperature. It wasn't a quick transition, since we did a fair bit of travelling to get here. He's had time to adjust to a slower transition as we've moved."

Ilirith says helpfully to Steven, "Plants have leaves, princes don't-- generally speaking?"

To Aiden, she says "Oh, good. So why's he still in bed?"

Aiden says, "He's not. He's riding. I was informing Seodil of where we were going."

Calm... calm... a calm, blue, ocean... a calm, blue ocean.... Steven smiles and nods a little. "In general... yes, good point." Calm, blue ocean....

Ilirith gives Aiden a daffodil grin. "Oh, right. The pretty silver one. I haven't asked him if he's available yet-- do you know?" She winks cheerfully at Steven and pats him on the shoulder as they walk. "I like your sense of humor, Steven. Very dry."

Steven smiles pelasantly. "Thank you, I try to find some humor in most situations." Why are you throwing stones into my calm, blue ocean?!

Part of Aiden - the really mean part - wants to say "No. Why don't you ask him?" The nicer part says, "I am honestly unsure. I suspect he is not, but I cannot speak for him."

**Editor: Replace Aiden's last with this, because enter is too close to quote:

Part of Aiden - the really mean part - wants to say "No. Why don't you ask him?" The nicer part manages to get control of the mouth first. "I am honestly unsure. I suspect he is not, but I cannot speak for him."

Ilirith says cheerfully, "Doesn't mean he might not be up for a little recreational impregnation, then. Thanks!"

Aiden winces internally. He smiles politely at Ilireth outwardly.

The yellow-haired elf wench adds merrily, "Besides, you know what they say about the tall ones, hm?"

Steven blinks. Recreational...? Besides that his brain is utterly speechless. He can't even think of anything relating to tsunamis and his calm, blue ocean.

Aiden raises an eyebrow slightly at Ilirith, "Enlighten me, just in case there's a regional difference?" He just can't help it. He really wants to know.

Ilirith leers, thoroughly cheerful. "I hope to be able to do just that, darling. Give me a little more time. I prefer to direct the program usually, but there's just something about the pretty shiny one --Ah, and here we are!" She opens rather large, ornate doors to reveal a somewhat dusty but gorgeously elven library, with so much skylight there's hardly any ceiling.

Aiden stops in the doorway to admire his first view of the library, with the distinct sense that if he had been raised in Summer, this is probably where he'd have ended up spending the vast majority of his time. He steps into the room, and glances around. "Wow."

Ilirith says, "If you need me, I'll be over with my geneaology notes, okay? Be good, boys. History's that way, plants are this way, I'll be between them both as usual." On her way off, she passes very close to Steven.

Steven is quite stunned by the sight himself; it's like no library in the Grey World he's ever seen before, and it's simply amazing. Not ever one for libraries, he nevertheless admits that this is incredible to seel.

Something caresses Steven's right buttcheek briefly but firmly.

Aiden smiles, "Thank you, Ilirith." He heads off towards the section that she motioned to for history, glancing at titles when he gets there.

Steven says, "Thank you, very much," then he blinks startledly, wondering if it was... yes, of course it was. He swallows a bit nervously. Pelor, I am not going to get used to that.... Then an idle thought takes him: what would the Winter Court have looked like before it had been corrupted? Did it look like this, with people and gardens and a library? Then another thought: They never did find Birch's body there. Blast! We should have looked! (And some petulant part of his mind adds, Yeah, then maybe your visions would be taken seriously!) And then another thought: If the Winter Court was also known as the Palace of Blood on Snow.. what is the Summer Court known as? He whispers this question to Aiden; for some reason, it seems important.

Aiden glances at Steven, chewing on his bottom lip. "Maybe if we can find a history of the court or the palace itself?" He keeps his voice low, almost reverant. Not because of Ilirith exclusively, but because of the atmosphere of the room. "Help me look for one? I have a feeling she has the one we want."

Titles in the history section seem oriented toward either an author's name and a single descriptive word, such as Hesiod's Theogeny, or Ovid's Metamorphoses, or Brilliad's Confusion-- or much, much longer nomens. An Examination of the Influence of the Pixie Wars on Modern Comunication. And so forth.

Steven nods, and helps Aiden to search. He also tries to find something on the order of 'a concise history of the world' or such.

Aiden runs a finger along the bookshelf as he passes the titles, frowning. Nothing is immediately jumping out as a good place to start. He carefully takes out the copy of Hesiod's Theogeny and looks to see if there is an index in the back, of if that's only a convenience afforded to books in the Grey World.

There may be an index, but if so, it's written-- like the rest of the book-- in what looks remarkably like Greek.

As Aiden looks at it longer, though... it starts to make sense...

The back holds no index, but it is the ending of a familiar Greek myth.

Aiden gives the book a disbelieving look. Not just because he can apparently read Greek, but that this is apparently the same Hesiod. He puts it back. As much fun as Grecian history might be, that's not what they're here for. He continues browsing.

A concise history of the world does not jump out, but Steven may have found the philosophy section. There's a copy of Machiavelli's The Prince among much stranger names-- all on books with the same title. Another section holds The King. Authors apparently do not agree on a style of rule-- or felt it necessary to give their own wording, at the least.

Burning Cold and Shivering Light: a History of the War catches Aiden's eye.

Aiden takes this book out carefully, looking first for an index, and second for some sort of synopsis within the first few pages.

Steven is mildly worried by the number of variants of The Prince. It went against the grain of his Pelorist training and education from his teacher. Nevertheless, he picks up one of the random samples of The Prince and takes a quick look at the table of contents.

Aiden's selection doesn't have an index and appears to be someone's personal journal, handwritten with bits crossed out now and then. Old reddish-brown stains show here and there on some pages. Part of the book cover is burned. It begins by frankly stating that the author is about to take arms against the City of Burning Light, and thinks it's a terrible idea, but what're you gonna do when your lords tell you to go to war? The author then starts listing the friends they're probably going to have to try to kill from the opposing court.

Aiden looks over at Steven. "Hey. I think I might've found something here." He flips towards the back of the book, scanning the pages for some mention of which courts, though he's quite certain that it's Summer and Winter, judging by the title.

Steven's author turns out to have opinions somewhere between feudalism and very cynical notions about relationships, as the book suggests treating enemies like a romance: always keep in mind exactly what you want to get out of them, and be aware they're doing the same to you, but put as polite a face over it as possible so that you're never easily read and taken.

Steven scowls at the book and puts it away back in the shelf securely. He goes over to Aiden. "What have you found?" he asks quietly.

Aiden sits down on the floor, "It's called Burning Cold and Shivering Light: A History of the War. Seems to be a journal of some sort. It's handwritten." He keeps - carefully - scanning pages, looking for some mention of "Blood on Snow", The Winter Court or The Summer Court.

Steven nods, looking over the pages along with Aiden. Then he notices the stains on the pages. "Is... that blood?"

Aiden nods, "I suspect it probably is."

Steven isn't squeemish; nevertheless, the thought creeps him out a bit. "Oh."

Toward the back of Aiden's book, the author gets grimmer and obviously rather lonely, having apparently killed most of their friends and still not ended the war. Skimming more suggests strongly that this is indeed a Winter-Summer conflict, as "Blood on Snow" jumps out at last. The author badly wants to go home to it. A strange passage pops out: the author confesses to finding a Grey World youth and having a very short affair, with the full intent of taking him home later, but is attacked while near the City of Burning Light and loses track of the beautiful youth completely... never to find him again. It's a fairly depressing passage, ending "Athenos, forgive me. I tried."

The author's name is Setisel the White.

Aiden points to the name of the Palace of Blood on Snow on the page, then reads the pages ahead of it a little more carefully, looking for another name for the summer court. He keeps that name in the back of his mind.

Steven makes a quiet note of that name, Setisel. It'll be interesting to see where that one fits into the book of names.

Aiden glances over at Steven. "We really ought to get on to the other book. It'll probably have the name."

Steven nods, "Yes... let's go check it."

No other names come up during Aiden's search... except that Setisel killed an Averet, long ago. Timin. The City of Burning Light remains the only other place name, though.

Aiden stands, putting the book carefully back where he found it. He heads off towards the section where Ilirith went, intent on finding that book so they can start what they actually came here for.

Ilirith spots the approach instantly and smiles, inkstains on her fingers and mouth where she's been chewing on the wrong end of her pen. "Hmm?"

Aiden smiles at Ilirith, "The history section has not been quite what I was in search of. I was looking for something more like a history of the court here itself, honestly. I'm quite curious about the court and it's people." He shrugs faintly, spreading his hands.

Ilirith frowns thoughtfully. "You want biographies?" She points. "Over there." She looks back down at the huge tome chained to the desk in front of her. "Maybe they'll be more talkative than mine is today. Some days I swear this one's gone and developed memory problems. Insists there's no such person as your silver friend."

Aiden tilts his head off to the side. "What's the book?" He sits down across from Ilirith, interested. He also has a feeling that this is the book he's after, but she's more likely to talk to him about it if he comes across as a curious scholar, rather than a-- raving lunatic? stalker? What would this make him?

"Book of Names." Ilirith chuckles, then hits it with enough force to make dust fly. Her hopeful look at the pages afterward sinks into gloom. "Still no Seodil Averet."

Aiden looks down at the book, interestedly, "The Book of Names? What names?"

Steven carefully doesn't glance at Aiden, certain she said that out loud in order to elicit the volunteering of information about Seodil from them.

Ilirith says, "All the names that belong to Summer, dearie. But he's not here... only all her dead ones, and Clairchiare."

Steven has very little doubt that 'her' refers to Seodil's mother. 'All her dead ones.' Seodil's brothers and sisters... all dead except for Clairchiare. What happened to them?

Aiden nods. "Maybe an oversight?" "Her dead ones? There were more siblings?"

Ilirith's eyes narrow at the two men. "There shouldn't be any oversights. It would take a powerful mage to change this, and even the dead are here, so long as they're our dead or gave life to one of the Bright. --Is his real name Seodil? I've got a Deosil here among the dead ones, but he was introduced to me as Seodil."

Aiden frowns slightly. "I'm afraid I don't know, in that case. It doesn't make much sense to me, but.." he flashes her a self-depreciating smile. "We are new here and don't know much about things like this."

Steven guesses that "one of the Bright" means, "anyone in the Summer Court." He lets Aiden answer, nodding in agreement with the lack of knowledge.

Ilirith sighs, throws up her hands and stalks off toward the biographies. "I'll ask him myself, sometime. For now, I give up."

Aiden says, "Do you mind if we take a glance at the book?"

"Go ahead," Ilirith calls over her shoulder. "Just tell it the name you want."

Aiden walks around to the other side and looks down at the book, curiously. He glances up to Steven, "Got a name?"

Steven glances to Aiden, and nods a bit, letting him take care of the interrogation of the book. And not without some minor glee. Let them think me crazy for talking to the chests now! "Sure. Try... who was that... Setisel the White."

The Book of Names was open to blank pages; suddenly, instead, a tree of relatives appears. Despite his Wintry origins as per the journal Aiden found, it appears Setisel fathered a child of Summer... on one Rluel Averet. The child's name was Deosil, and the book says he's as dead as the other five children Rluel had before him-- all dead the same year they were born according to this book. Except for Clairchiare, born fifty years after 'Deosil,' the last. Clairchiare's father is... also Setisel the White, whose death date is listed as the same year Seodil was born.

Aiden glances up at Steven, quirking one eyebrow up.

Steven blinks, looking at the book a bit startledly. Well, at least some inanimate object now responded to me in front of Aiden. "Well... this is a surprise." He remembers the words of his teacher: "Steven, the universe is too large for there to not be coincidence."

Aiden looks over at Ilirith. "What year is it?"

Ilirith gives Aiden a very odd look as she says, "6081 since the sun cried."

Aiden smiles. "Thanks. I don't pay much attention to the date." He looks down at the book again and says, softly, "Rathskeliad Shh." He hopes that's the real last name.

Steven thinks, What an odd way of numbering the date. Quick, what happened six thousand years ago in the Grey World...? Almost as important, what was the sun crying?

Rathskeliad Shh is the child of Elis Shh-- whose lineage continues back into Summer history, and who has no other children-- and someone not of Summer named Olot'ik'ik'ik, who died the same year Rathskeliad was born.

Aiden frowns. Both fathers died the year their children were born.

...Rathskeliad is fifty-one years older than Seodil.

Steven thinks, That's not a name that we've seen before. Uh.. maybe his father really was an ogre?

Deosil Averet was born 321 years ago.

Steven murmurs, "I'm seeing patterns here, Aiden... too many patterns."

Aiden nods at Steven. "Yeah." He glances back at Rathskeliad's page, checking the year of birth.

Rathskeliad was born in 5709 after-the-sun.

According to this, he is 372 years old.

Aiden nods again, mostly to himself. Rathskeliad is old enough to remember Seodil.

Aiden frowns suddenly. If Seodil's father was from Winter, that would explain his colouring. What about Sol? He tries Soleil, though, he doesn't know Soleil's full name, which sort of hits him in the gut in an odd, and not entirely pleasant way.

Steven murmurs, "Rathskeliad is fifty-one years older than Seodil... if he's Deosil, that is... and Deosil is fifty years older than Clairchiare, and Seodil is one year younger than the princess...." He looks through the list of names of contemporaries, wondering if there's always this pattern of fifty or so years, and if all of the Summer fatehrs died in the same year as their children.

The word 'Soleil' elicits no reaction from the book.

Aiden frowns at Steven. "What was her name? I don't remember.."

Steven says, "Whose name?"

There is, unfortunately, no list of contemporaries... only the lineages of a full name and its siblings, once invoked.

Aiden says, "The princess."

Steven frowns slightly, trying to remember. "I don't remember, I don't think we were told... wait.. the message in the sparrow..."

Aiden nods, "It was there.. but I don't remember. Next time, then."

Steven tries looking through some of the names in the past lineages of the persons in the two trees they've managed to find, Clairchiare's/Deosil's and Rathskeliad. He only takes a cursory look at the names and dates.; he doesn't want Ilirith to come back and find him poking around the Book of Names.

Aiden leaves the book. He's got enough to get some further guidance now and he really was curious about the biology books. Unfortunately, his feet have an entirely different plan and it's not long before he finds himself sitting on the ground in front of a bookcase, with Burning Cold and Shivering Light back in his hands, this time, though, he's really reading it, rather than just scanning it.

Steven's search back using the names of strangers pulls up an interesting fact; it is not in fact the norm for Summer fathers to die the same year as they bring a child into the world...

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Last modified: 2001-Jun-12 14:20:21

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