Slumming at the Festival

22nd Rova 4713

Thaddeus fidgeted hoping to hide his discomfort. He was wearing his finest doublet, not his most comfortable one. Red and gold, though truthfully more gold then red, he cut a striking figure as he sat on the raised dais that afternoon watching his knights battle on the field of glory.  

He had it on good authority that these festivals were a place to be seen as much as to see, and he had dressed for it. No royal outfit was complete without the audacious amount of jewelry that frankly embarrassed the warrior king. Truth of the matter was, he wished he'd been wearing his plate mail and riding his horse. Thus was not his fate however, and he took some comfort that as awkward as he felt, at least it was the most practical of his 'royal' clothes. Some of the things the tailors pushed on him in the name of fashion... It boggled his mind.

The Fall Harvest Festival seemed to be a rousing success. Three days of feasting, jousting, dancing and entertainment was a welcome reprieve. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, at least on the surface. Almost everyone.

Feluanil had arrived per Thaddeus' request and seemed to mingle with others better then he had expected. It was almost amusing to see the nobles squirm under her unwavering, soul baring gaze... but truthfully he empathized with them. He knew that gaze too well.


Still, it was good to see her inserting herself into the local politics. He suspected it would be a difficult transition for any woman to become queen and simply step into the place of authority that came with it. Feluanil was no ordinary woman... Whether that made it easier or more difficult was something only time would tell.


Thaddeus was no ordinary king either. Her independence afforded him a good measure of his own. After awarding the prizes to the victors in the joust, Thaddeus found himself able to wander the festival grounds with Thomas ever present.

The boy was shaping into a fine young squire-servant. Dressed in a simpler red doublet of his own, he was one of the few to carry a longsword in an elaborate scabbard openly. A compromise Thad had agreed to. He didn't want to wander his own festivals armed or armored ... but it was still good to have a sword within quick retrieval. A quick spell could provide armor should it be necessary.

Still he suspected Sir Paido to have him under constant supervision.  

He grinned widely as he saw a familiar bard. Rosen... something or other. He had played for the king previously and Thad had found him quite entertaining.

As did many others it seemed. It wasn't far into the song before the crowd starting dancing and singing along.

It should have come as no surprise to find Wynnsaren there and most comfortable in the midst of an assemblage of some of the more common of Akiros' citizens. Even less so to discover that it was she who put spark to tinder and with a bright laugh, pressed the hand of the matron beside her and set feet to dancing. Months ago this may not have held true. Months ago, she would not have been welcome among some circles. Not that anyone would have spoken against her directly of course, but there are many more subtle ways of making a person understand that their presence is less than desired.

Rumors are insidious things. They need only the meanest sustenance to thrive, but starve them long enough and they begin to atrophy. The rumors of the Ambassador's illicit relationship with a wealthy, young Brevoyan nobleman poisoned the people against her for a time, as none of them wanted to be dragged into the messy civil war of their northerly neighbors. Thankfully, the king's good name had in no way been besmirched. Now over a year had passed since the siege and the rumor was emaciated and failing by the day. Perhaps she was not invited to as many country gatherings as she once was, but the aasimar, for the most part, was back in the peoples' good graces. As long as they kept their torches and pitchforks at home, Wynn was content.

She wore a simple tunic dress of wool dyed black as pitch, with fitted sleeves punctuated by silver buttons running up past the elbow and silver lacings cinching up the sides of the bodice. The only ornament she wore was girdle belt of silver rings and discs that hung about her hips.

The sun had not yet descended below the horizon but it was the last of the three evenings of Harvest Festival. All of the necessary appearances had been made, the nobles attended, jousts applauded and feasts devoured. Now she was eager to squeeze out the last few drops of simple, joyful revelry before the dawn.

Upon the makeshift stage, Rosencrantz' bow flew madly across the strings as he picked up the pace of 'How Fair the Maiden', a favorite tavern song that anyone claiming a whit of heritage from Brevoy or the River Kingdoms knew by heart. The line of women skipped between the line of men and snatched up a new partner. Two complete spins and the lines separated once more. And so it went. They laughed and skipped and spun at the manic pace the bard had set.

Now Rosencrantz was no novice to his trade and could play like a devil had been set to heel, so when the fiddle screeched to a dead halt, so, in confusion, did the dancers. All eyes followed his to where the King of Novastasia stood watching. A moment of surprised whisper and then all knees bowed low.

Wynnsaren materialized at the edge of the crowd and curtsied grandly before the monarch. The grandness lessened slightly as she puffed an escapee lock of hair away from her eyes.

"Your Majesty," she smiled, voice wavering from the exertion of the dance. "Your presence honors us. Moreover, you may have just saved a life or two with your timely appearance, for I have half a suspicion that this excellent fiddler is attempting to kill us at this tempo." Her eyes shone with mirth.

A murmur of snickers wove through the group, and Wynn didn't need to look behind her to know that Rosencrantz had turned strawberry-red, but was likely grinning proudly as well.

Thad flinched inwardly as his mere presence stopped the party. Such was the lot of the crown he supposed. The king waved his hand toward the crowd and smiling widely, turned to the proud looking bard. The pride was well founded as he was really quite good.

"I just hope he saved a little something left for me," the king laughed as the fiddler went from red to a few shades whiter. A murmur swept through the crowd. Half seemed pleased to have the king join them, the other half afraid of what would happen if they stepped on his feet. Thaddeus' enthusiasm however caused Rosecrantz to nod with a grin of his own. The bard's seemed to glint as if to say 'Challenge accepted'.

The music started up again, slower then when he'd left it for which Thaddeus was glad of. While familiar with the dance, it had been some time since he'd actually danced it. As the lines shifted and the partners switched and spun part of Thaddeus was constantly distracted. Thomas' eyes gleamed as the king reveled, but in the back of his mind he half-expected a dagger to strike while he was vulnerable. Paido's suspicions were rubbing off on him. If the Halfling was watching now... he must have been livid.

No dagger came however. Laughter and a barrage of pretty girls eager to dance with the king were the only things the young king had to deal with, and before long he found himself truly enjoying himself. Before long he began to wonder if Wynn may have a point... It didn't take long for the fiddler's skill to outpace the king's and he began to wonder if Fiddle would be the weapon of choice for regicide.

Then with a flourish, the music ended. Thaddeus had kept up but was a bit red in the face himself. He crowd erupted into applause and Thaddeus waved to the master fiddler.

"Excellent job sir, you are truly a master of your craft." He worked his way to the edge of the stage and nodded at Thomas. The young squire hadn't taken his eyes off the king and was smiling widely. Seeing the lad still there, the king turned back to his ambassador.

"Well, that was fun... How fares your festival mi'lady!"

"The last three days have been a welcome and most enjoyable diversion, Your Majesty." Wynn gave a winded chuckle. "I am glad to see that you are availing yourself of all the festivities. Honestly," her voice dropping to a whisper, "I had not expected to see you outside of the more noble-oriented gatherings."

It was not altogether unusual for the king to take some air and walk about the streets of Akiros from time to time, but during festivals it seemed his time was monopolized by nobility hoping to make an impression and of course the requirements of his station. This was a pleasant surprise.

Rosencrantz began a much slower piece and they moved farther to the outside of the crowd to continue their conversation. She raked a few hairs into place and clasped her hands behind her back, watching and smiling as various couples took advantage of the more relaxed tempo.

"Are you simply wandering to take in the full scope of the city's celebrations, my king, or do you have a destination in mind?"

"Destination? Destination is a strong word my friend... after all, I hear it's the journey that's most important." Thaddeus smirked at his little wit.

"Truthfully, I was hoping to find some fun out here... Whether that's a location or I found it along the road, I didn't really care."

He leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial tone with mischief in his eyes. "There's only so much of nobles that I can take some days...."

"I quite understand," she replied, with thoughts of Mivon foremost in her mind. It was a strange grey area that she found herself spanning here in Novastasia. Provided she remained within the good graces of King Thaddeus, this particular arrangement allowed her to keep one foot within both social circles which was terribly useful in regards to her purpose here.

"I had a mind to pay visit to The Raging Owlbear, if you would care to join me," Wynnsaren suggested with a smile and a deferential bow of her head. Old Wetherburn just pressed some cider this morning and I have heard nothing but rave reviews all day. It sounds especially good after Rosencrantz' delightful torture."

"Now that, sounds like a wonderful idea!" Thaddeus said as he answered her smile with one of his own. That was what this festival was missing from the nobles side and really what he had come out in search for.

Smiling.

The tavern wasn't far, and they were served immediately. One of the perks of nobility he supposed. He couldn't remember the last he actually waited in line for anything. A bit off-putting perhaps, but he took it in stride and humility. The patrons seemed both shocked and pleased to have the king amongst them, which in Thaddeus' mind was an excellent combination. It meant that they still acknowledged his authority enough to be a little nervous, yet he didn't outright scare them like so many other rulers would. A decent balance indeed.

The pair found themselves a table in relative peace. The people were pleased to share the tavern with him, but at the same time, nobody wanted to be caught paying too much attention to a noble's business...

"Yes... people do seem to be having a better time on this side of the city, that's for certain," Thaddeus said with a frustrated chuckle.

"I haven't seen much of you the last couple days, have you been out here the whole time? Have you had any crossings with Feluanil or Sarala?"

The fey queen had arrived with little fanfare, but this time with a small honor guard consisting of, Ambergretchie the Atomie, a few fauns and some heavily clothed nymphs.

Most of his council had taken some of her time, and of course some more then others

The aasimar eyed him speculatively as she indelicately sucked the thin head of foam off of her mug of cider.

"I have been about." She grinned and wiped the remnants of a cider moustache from her lip with her thumb. "Aside from the feasts, I have been mingling among the more social elite for the last two days. Most of whom seemed to be having quite an enjoyable time in my opinion," she added with a quirk of a brow.

"As to the two foremost females in your life, Your Majesty, I was able to speak with the queen briefly to welcome her to Akiros of course and to thank her for coming, but I have had no personal interaction with her since, save for putting myself at her disposal. There was the opportunity to speak with Ambergretchie for a time and at the ball one of the fauns asked me to dance. . . Well," she cleared her throat and flushed crimson, "that was not all he asked but he settled for a dance. Admittedly I am unaccustomed to such carefree carnality."

Wynn took a long swallow of cider. The circumference of the mug hiding the majority of her scarlet face.

"I was there when you and your queen-to-be danced on the first night, though I cannot hold you responsible for not noticing my presence. There is just something about being in the same room as Feluanil that makes all other women seem invisible." She pointed out with a smile, seeming not at all put out by that fact.

"Sarala and I talked for a bit during yesterday's feast," she continued, "but only about trivial matters. Lord Garess was monopolizing most of her time. Actually, she did seem a bit distant. Preoccupied. But, in fairness, she is less herself among a crowd which I attribute to general wariness of others.

"So yes, I have crossed paths with the two of them. Not wit, however, I am sad to report." Wynn pouted playfully. "Few words but thankfully no swords."

Holding the handle of the mug in her right hand, she tapped her middle finger rhythmically upon the wood as she watched him.

"Why do you ask?" Wynn questioned carefully but pointedly. "Have these of the fairer sex driven you to seek reprieve outside of your normal social circles?"

"That... is one way to put it I suppose..." he said with a shrug. "Feluanil isn't any different then I've come to expect. Actually, I'd say she's being more accommodating to the coming station then I had suspected... Still doesn't seem to be enjoying it though... The dancing? I'd never seen anyone move like that... she made me feel like I was still wearing my armor out there. But it was all... cold. That was part of the reason I wanted to see some people actually enjoying the festivities. I've known  my fair share of fey, but it never crossed my mind that one didn't enjoy the dancing...

"Sarala? She's also been giving me the cold shoulder lately. You're right, she tends to put on a bit of a mask in crowds, but this time is different... She's still mad at me. She's professional and respectful, but really, that's one of the ways I can tell that she's still mad at me." Thaddeus chuckled wryly as he drank some of the steaming cider. His eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise as he examined the mug.

"This.. is actually quite good! I can see why it's the talk of the town."

"What is she upset with you about?" Wynnsaren queried after showing her agreement with another sip of cider. "Is something else going on between you two, or is this still regarding the wedding?"

"Oh yes..." he said with sigh, "but not the one you may be thinking of..."

He set the mug down and laced his fingers together in deep thought. He had rerun the argument many times in his head and had never liked the outcome.

"There was a... disagreement. I'm a little surprised you hadn't heard of it yet... though I'm not sure why. When my sister wants to keep a secret, I guess it stays secret.

"She seemed... insistent that the people needed her to marry the magister. She had a multitude of shoddy reasons... Everything from being a role model for citizens... to avoiding disappointing the people working on my wedding with a mere festival.

"In the end... I forbid the wedding. Well, rather I refused to announce it for her, and warned I could forbid if it came to that." Dark eyebrows came together as he recalled the anger in the office that day.

"I tore her reasons to shreds, and refused to allow her to punish me for my decision in postponing my wedding... I don't often pull the 'king' card... and I think it shocked her a bit." He sighed a bit wistfully.

"She's barely spoken to me since... Everything she has said has had a gloss of professionalism and... distance.

"I'm trying to give her some space... but it's not easy. I don't like this... gulf between us."

The aasimar blinked up at him in bewilderment, trying to call forth some semblance of sense out of the statements the king just made. Clearly she was receiving but one side of the story. . .

If the young slyph wished to marry the magister, she would simply have done so. It was difficult for her to imagine Sarala asking permission of her brother to have it announced and even harder to believe that she would have accepted his forbiddance! This smacked of attempted manipulation. Sloppy manipulation. . . But Sarala just didn't do sloppy! This wasn't like her at all and Wynn couldn't help thinking there was something more behind this than what lay at the surface -- or even just beneath. There was a deeper issue in need of resolving.

"Do you think she truly wishes to punish you?" Wynnsaren asked curiously. "What is it about this postponement that so troubles her?"

"I'm having difficulty understanding that myself..." he said with brows furrowed.

"Zaistrun took the postponement extremely personal. Sarala and I spoke about it a few times. I had thought we'd come to an understanding of sorts.

"She wasn't pleased with my postponements... There had been some misunderstandings over dates, and the council seemed to be under the impression that I was just stalling till the issue went away.

"Were they right?" he shrugged noncommittally. "Perhaps on some level. It took me a while to become resigned to the idea. Still, there was information that she hadn't been aware of, and we talked long about it. It seems they simply saw it as a more immediate concern then I or Feluanil seemed to.

"By the end of the talk, I thought things were better between us. I had made my points, and she could at least understand where I was.

"Then... she sprang this on me. She seemed to take it on herself to... I don't know, teach the citizens how to start a family?

"It doesn't make any more sense to me now then it did then really... It's as if she thinks that the king marrying and showing stability and such, while I admit ARE important, are more important than establishing the diplomatic relations with the neighboring kings...

"I still think that spring will have a greater turnout and yield greater results then a fall wedding would have... though in hindsight the food would have been better at harvest time then spring..."

He shook his head and sighed. "Punish may not have been the right word. I didn't sense any spite or malice in her request... truthfully I didn't really detect any emotion attached to the idea at all.

"Still, I felt that her decision was a direct response to my decision. A... ramification of what she felt I should have done, and one she held no excitement for. If it had turned out badly, that would have been a thorn between us forever.

"I couldn't allow that."

In that moment, Wynnsaren decided she would purchase some sort of gift for Paido. Cigars? Wine? Maybe one of those water clocks she'd seen at the Grand Bazaar in Absolom? Something to show her appreciation for his constancy and aversion to dramatics.

"She had to know you would refuse her request," she pondered aloud, "and I would be surprised if she truly believed such a tactic would sway you from your previous decision. . .

"It almost seems as if she wanted you to be infuriated with her. To yell and shout and say something that you would later regret. Something that would drive a wedge between you."

The aasimar shook the tangled web of thoughts from her head, and looked up at the king helplessly

"But that cannot be the situation. How could she wish for such a thing?"

Not having any experience with siblings, Wynnsaren found herself at quite the disadvantage when trying to understand their motivations. There was so much history between them -- so much baggage, that unless she found herself personally carrying that weight, she could never wholly comprehend such a relationship.

She consoled herself with another swallow of cider.

"I confess that I have not gotten to know Sarala as well as I would like. Not from lack of trying you understand, but she cannot be pushed to reveal more about herself than she is willing. If I push, she will bolt like a startled deer. The best I can do is make myself available for her. Put myself in her path and give her opportunities to reach out."

Thaddeus nodded knowingly. "It's true. She isn't an easy person to get to know. She doesn't let people get close. It can be.. frustrating.

"Truth is, she's changed so much since we started this... I'm not so sure I know her any better then you do. She has... trust issues," he frowned. "Since taking on the mantle of leadership here... She seems to avoid me too. As if I can't be bothered with her issues too.

"Honestly, I'm quite worried about her.

"She looks at people with suspicion... she only sees the worst humanity has to offer. Even as a child she kept to herself... I suspect that it has to do with her heritage. She didn't know what a sylph was... but she knew that there was something different about herself.

"I had hoped coming to the Stolen Lands with me would have made things better... but I fear that it's only gotten worse... She's convinced somehow that actually trusting a person is the best she can hope for... She has little use for people and even less for religion...

"Having seen Pharasma's line for myself... I really am worried about her. Like you said though... when I approach the subjects she bolts."

Wynnsaren nodded in assent and began twisting a lock of inky hair around one of the fingers of her right hand.

"It is possible that she does not even know how to vocalize these trust issues you mention, Your Majesty. Sarala is very young. I know this is hard to remember at times, but while she reaches physical maturity at about the same rate as a human, it will take her -- as it took me, much longer to mature emotionally.

"If you feel she is avoiding you or 'giving you the cold shoulder' as you say, she may simply be processing what happened during your discussion. I believe that part of the reason that we have difficulty knowing her is because she still does not fully know herself. As you all are, Sarala is going through many trials. With her role here in Novastasia and the travels and travails that Matsuro Shi have and are yet to encounter. . . She is being forced to grow up. To stretch and find her place in all of this," Wynn waved her hand gently in a circle to indicate the wider world. "There is often pain that comes along with rapid physical growth, so it would stand to reason that the same applies to emotional growth.

"I am convinced that your sister will be fine. She just needs time and continued patience as she works through some of these obstacles and then when she is ready to talk, she will."

The oracle smiled and patted the king's hand fondly.

"Sarala is fortunate indeed to be surrounded by so many that care for her."

"I hope you're right." Thaddeus said unconvinced. "I just wish she didn't try to face all these trials on her own."

He frowned as he took another drink.

"Sarala rarely has an issue with vocalizing her issues... that's what makes this feel 'different'. She seems... devoid of hope. She said that she doesn't feel love for Zaistrun, but she trusts him. She claimed she doesn't think she has the right to hope for more... and that just stung. I don't understand it, and that was probably why I pushed back.

However, if she was looking for yelling and throwing things... she was disappointed. After that, I didn't have any fire to hurl at her. I don't remember the last time I felt so.... deflated. Worried...  

"As you said... she's very young yet... Her match may not even be born yet! She has so much ahead of her... but she just seems ready to give up. And giving up is not the first thing I think of when my sister comes to mind...  

I seem to be holding out hope enough for both of us that she'll be happy.

Wynn's brow arched skyward as she mulled over the lengthening list of issues the king was presenting. She leaned across the table to close the distance between them.

"We really are talking about marriage here?" The aasimar asked, dropping her voice to a low, humming timbre. "I had assumed that her request was more of an 'empty threat' chosen specifically because she knows how you feel about. . .the lord in question, but if she was serious. . . And if she's doing this because she thinks she has no right to hope for more? Well, I cannot believe that any man would wish for his bride to feel as if she was settling for him. Talk about pricking one's pride!"

Cradling the mug in her hands, she stared blankly into the rich brown liquid.

"Many cultures believe in arranged marriages, as you well know, and virtually none of those are based on love. That does not mean that such unions are not successful. That does not mean that love cannot grow. On the other side of the coin however, I am fairly sure that this is the same girl who ran away from home so she would not have to be yoked to a man she did not love.

"What has changed?"

Thaddeus raised his eyebrows, but kept silent. No, no man wanted his bride to feel as if she was settling for him. He knew better then anyone what kind of prick that was to a man's pride. Uncertain whether they were still talking about Zaistrun or his own less then enthusiastic fiancé, he coughed uncomfortably.

"I'm not sure..." he said finally answering the question before him. "When I bring that up, she claims that she's changed her mind... or that she realizes she had been selfish back then, or some such garbage about her responsibilities in society.

"I'll admit some of the frustration is that I haven't changed my mind or seen the error of our decisions to leave.

"What I thought then, I still think now. It's not a decision I regret.

"What changed her mind? I don't know... She's acted differently since my... incident freeing Fort Draleve a few weeks ago, but is this just a sign of panic or a glimmer of some new maturity... I really don't know."

He grimaced a bit as he remembered the conversation and a bit of a smile crept up his mouth.

"I... don't blame you for thinking it a joke... admittedly when she first told me, I laughed aloud... That may not have helped matters."

A thoughtful half-smile touched her lips but no more until she acted to wet them with a swallow of the well spiced cider.

"I do not believe that she is settling for you."

Wynnsaren gently responded to the unasked question in her own oddly resonant voice; the one so seldom used that marked her as less or perhaps more than wholly human. There was no question as to whom the 'she' was to which she was referring.

"She is fey. She spans the gap between two worlds and as such, her notions of marriage and family, nations and wars are inherently different from our own. Indeed, even time itself! Forgive me, but whether you live for sixty years or a two centuries, I do not believe your marriage could be more than a mere fragment of her life either going backward or forward. For her. . .this is not a life sentence."

The aasimar leveled her eyes with her king's and offered an apologetic sigh.

"There is little reason you should feel your pride has been pricked in this matter. Especially when it is you that has settled for her."

Thaddeus chuckled and smiled gratefully at Wynn. "That seems to be an unpopular opinion from what I've seen. You're the first person I've heard that hasn't claimed I should be eternally grateful for marrying so far above myself...

"Myself? I see both sides I suppose. She is an exceptional woman... but still, I don't get the sense that she is overly impressed with me. I think the truth of the matter is that we're both settling in one fashion or another.

"It will be... interesting to see where the common ground is. I expect spring to be very... exciting."

Wynnsaren did a fair poor job of stifling a chuckle just then. It was startling to tell a man that the entire span of his impending marriage would likely be little more than a few paragraphs in the voluminous tome that would be his fiance's life -- that 'settling' implied a need for marriage which she plainly did not have, and then have him take that as a compliment. King Thaddeus' pride was quite in tact so it would seem. She was glad to see it.

Idly, she wondered what it would be like to have a tiny world revolve around her as it was for kings and queens of nations. It was a disagreeable notion. A crown, a castle, a nation of people. They formed a cage of a different sort, but in her own mind, a cage was a cage no matter the furnishings. Truth was, most souls were bound up in something whether that be cold iron bars of consequence or the gilt filigree of noble responsibility. Maybe that was all there was in this life. . . To choose your cage carefully.

The aasimar decided the cider was somehow making her maudlin, and pushed the mug a few inches away to save herself from sinking any further.

"I do hope you will find it so, Your Majesty," she smiled hopefully. "And speaking of your intended, why is she not currently at your side? Did she depart so soon after the feast?"

"Oh no... She's around, somewhere," he said with a lack of certainty. "Last I saw she was at the pavilion talking with Lord Dolbain from Sarkenhold.

"Fortunately he's had no issues with the centaurs yet, but he seemed curious to ask for advice. Admiral for certain. When I last asked, she had little to say on the matter.

"After that it appeared Zened wished to meet with her and discuss... actually, I have no idea what a high priest of Abadar would want to talk to a queen of the fey about. Perhaps something to do with his Councilor duties? I'm not sure.

"I'm sure I'll get a report when it's said and done. I've been paying pretty close attention to how she interacts with the others around here...

"As I said... Interesting times ahead..."

"I am sure there is a dreadful long line of nobles and those with positions of authority attempting to gain favor with their soon-to-be-queen," she grinned and shook her head slightly. "It seems to be the way of things. Certainly some of her petitioners may be looking for advice but others will surely seek her out for their own political aspirations. I cannot imagine she is having a very enjoyable time of it herself, catering to all these human desires. . ."

Wynn propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin on the back of her hand.

"While I understand that Feluanil is more than capable of handling herself in this. . .or likely any situation, perhaps it would be chivalrous to go rescue your lady from those grasping for her attention. You could bring her a mug of cider!"

The aasimar teased, smiling brightly at him before lowering her gaze to eye her drink dubiously.

"It may make her more reflective and conversational. . . I do not see her as the overly emotional type however."

"You may be right..." he said with doubt in his voice. He had tried for months to get her to show emotion or to open up a little to no avail. Somehow he doubted the secret to her heart was a warm mug of cider..

"I'm certain she's had her hands quite full without me there, still it probably is about time to start heading back." He chuckled at the thought that Feluanil would or even could be rescued from anything. A damsel in distress she most certainly was not!

He smirked at his friend and asked, "So what do you think? Will she be appreciative of the gesture, or offended in some unknown way?

"Care to make a wager?"