A Half-Year Anniversary

Log Info

• Title: A Half-Year Anniversary

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Southern Banks of the Tornmawr

• Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon go out for a romantic little dinner on the Southern Banks of the Tornmawr, bringing a picnic basket with them to celebrate their half-year anniversary. The couple talk about their relationship in addition to the current situation of the wights and how that's affected their wedding plans. Eventually, cheesecake is had.

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

Southern Banks of the Tornmawr, evening.

It's hot and cloudy when the two half-elves make their way to a spot that is rather familiar to themselves, Cor'lana holding a picnic basket in hand. She's insisted on wearing the fine dress that she wore to meet the Queen of Air and Darkness and the Wee Queen again, despite the fact it isn't really proper 'beach' attire.

And the reason is rather simple, really. "This is the best time for a private celebration of our anniversary," Cor'lana says to Telamon as they walk. "Not that I didn't enjoy the meeting with the Wee Queen and her people, but I also wanted a nicer, quieter occasion--one where we wouldn't be disturbed, and there'll hardly be any people here due to the weather."

And despite Pothy's harrowing choice casting a shroud of despair over Cor'lana's features lately, she can't help but smile today.

His hand in hers; as natural as breathing or walking. And it's how it should be, as the two walk to the spot. "Hard to believe it's been less than a year since we first met," Telamon says with a smile. He's not exactly dressed down, but his loose-fitting shirt and trousers tucked into boots make him look vaguely roguish, like some kind of swashbuckling hero rather than a sorcerer.

The sun has dipped down, but with the summer heat, it won't be getting cold anytime soon. And already, fireflies are gathering, following along in Tel's path like his own personal entourage. "The heat has definitely been chasing people inside, or at least out of the sun." As the two approach one of the picnic tables, he looks out over the Tornmawr. "Gods. It feels like that last dream I had, about the Watcher. He told me..." He pauses, and blushes a touch. "He told me this was my new 'happiest moment'."

Cor'lana grins as she looks up at Telamon, fireflies in their wake as they walk. "It's my happiest moment, too, you know? To learn that you so genuinely wanted me and loved me. I never dared to hope before then that you'd really feel that way about me."

They reach the tables and Cor'lana takes a seat, although she has to be careful with the way her dress is constructed to not snag anything and risk ripping a seam somewhere. She's dressed very differently than she was on that day--not so much the anxious girl hiding behind her hooded capelet as she was then, and Telamon has some partial credit to take for that transformation. Her wavy black hair moves with the beach wind in a way that seems to serve her image best--the feytouched sorceress that Telamon's found himself entangled with smiling at him, violet eyes twinkling in the evening light.

"I just hope we can replace it relatively soon with the memory of our wedding, once these wights are all taken care of," Cor'lana says. "Feels like I've signed up for every job I can get."

Telamon sits down across from her, studying her with a smile. The differences are so profound, and yet... she's still the same girl from before. And that's what makes it work. "Probably. The Watcher said newer experiences often replace older ones."

He grins. "I mean, I'll always remember that evening, and it'll be cherished, but... we have new memories to make and share in. And I'm looking forward to doing so with you."

At the mention of the wights, his lips turn down in a slightly disgusted expression. "If it helps, everyone's pitching in. It's just... damn, did they have to show up now? Couldn't it wait till after the wedding?" His eyes glint. "Just another day in Alexandria, I guess."

Cor'lana pulls out some sandwiches from the picnic basket, made earlier in the afternoon. She hands Telamon's his first before she takes hers, unwrapping it carefully from the cloth. Sure, she doesn't have to eat, but she still likes to make an attempt at making food. "It goes to show that as adventurers, we just never can truly rest," she says. "But that doesn't mean we can't have a nice evening together."

She smiles at Telamon. "There's a cheesecake in the basket, too," she says. "Grandfather suggested it, and I found fresh berries at the market, so I wanted to do something nice with them."

"Even the gods rest from time to time," Telamon points out. "I don't think we should deny ourselves the same. Besides, ask any Angorite, they'll tell you that even the mightiest heroes need to lay down their swords now and then." He pauses. "Or wands, or staves, or... yeah."

He takes the sandwich, unwrapping it as well. "Cheesecake? You're spoiling me, love. I'm going to have to come up with something extra special for our next anniversary, now."

He takes a bite of his sandwich, nodding a bit, before swallowing and continuing, "I got a letter from father and mother the other day. Family news, for the most part. The Mythwood still stands, though they've had to rouse the forests to hedge out the wights." He gets a slightly amused look. "Which means if you're there, and you see trees walking around, smile and be polite."

Cor'lana grins. "Considering the next one I think we'll celebrate is the first year, that'll have to be special anyway," she says. "And hopefully by then, we will actually be married. I wouldn't want to have to have the wedding in the dead of winter and be shivering the whole time--even if you would enjoy cracking jokes about warming me up later."

Then she looks... intrigued? Oh, no. It's that expression of feytouched mischief on her face. "The trees, hmm? Why do I get the feeling your Uncle Telgari must be overjoyed to see them walk around? Not that I'd ever treat them with anything besides disrespect. They are, after all, the trees our children will likely climb and play on one day."

Telamon snorts. "Because you know him well? I love him dearly, but his heart is lodged securely in the deep forests and woods. He talks to the trees, and despite how that song lyric goes, they do listen to him." He rubs his chin. "Treants. That's what they're called. Imagine a tree that thinks -- and can take offense if you get uppity. And they often work with, or even serve, the fey in those woods."

He grins. "But yes. They are... honored allies. Even if they see things very differently. Going back to your remark... no, I want to have our marriage in the summer as well. Winter is all well and good, I suppose, but I prefer the warmer months. Even if it does give me the excuse to cuddle close to stay warm."

"Treants," Cor'lana says, now truly fascinated. "I've heard of them from storybooks. Have you ever heard of a story about a treant who adopted a little girl lost in the woods and raised her as his daughter? It... Well, it was a sad story, but it was always one of my favorites when I was younger."

Cor'lana reaches her hand across the table--the one with Telamon's betrothal ring on her ring finger. She smiles warmly at him as she says, "If we had to have the wedding in the winter, it would be alright with me. At this point, I just want to be wedded to you."

Then she blushes a little as she looks away. "Besides, I imagine it's getting exhausting dancing around your mother inquiring if we're 'window climbing' or not."

Telamon thinks. "It sounds familiar, but I can't place it. It's been a while since I read some of those old stories -- or had them read to me as a child." He chuckles softly. "One more thing we'll have to do when we go back to Ylvaliel."

His hand finds hers, the betrothal rings touching as their fingers entwine. "Agreed. I'd be... well, annoyed isn't the right word. I'd deal with it. After all, I'd be getting what I most wanted in life -- it'd be rude to complain about getting it at a different time than I expected."

At the mention of his mother, Tel rolls his eyes. "I think she knows, love. Mother's not stupid. Nor is she... hm. Trying to find the best term here. Prudish? I guess that might be it. There's a good word in sildanyari for it, but it doesn't translate well to tradespeak. In any case, she knows. She's just not going to say anything."

"That might be preferable to Grandfather encouraging us to give him grandchildren already," Cor'lana says with a sigh. "Although I fear the day that your mother and Grandfather align in that desire. We'll be pelted with all things baby until it happens. At least we don't have to worry about my mother."

As she says it, however, a frown finds her face. "Not that I can talk to her without Pothy around," she says. "... I don't think I can, anyway. Mother lives in his library."

The frown turns into a thoughtful expression. "...Then again, that's just that echo. When she died, she turned into mana that passed into my body. That's how my bad eyesight from when I was younger got fixed. I wonder..."

Telamon turns his eyes back to the heavens. "Oh gods. It's going to be a nightmare. Mother has already started knitting and I think she's recruited some help too. We're going to have tons of baby things." He rubs his face. "Ah well, there are worse problems..."

His eyes turn back to hers. "You're wondering how much of the 'library' is Pothy, and how much might be in you?" he inquires. "It's a good question, though I don't know how we'd find out -- save through lucid dreaming." He furrows his brow. "Maybe we could test it with me first, since we know my only deep dark secret is for bacon-wrapped sausages or something."

Cor'lana sticks her tongue out. "Oh, who knows," she says. "Maybe I'll discover you have a secret fondness for exotic cheeses, too, and then we can have a thoroughly enjoyable meal after we wake up. But yes, I think that's a good idea. Something to consider when we're home later."

Then she pictures Ari knitting. "Between her and Grandfather, our children will at least never want for clothes," she says with a little sigh, although she can't help but grin. "And I do mean children. Two or three, I think. I have no preference on the gender--I've never found the point in hoping for boys or girls."

Telamon smiles at the impish expression she presents, squeezing her hand. "Guess we'll have to think on that later, yes." He reaches into the basket. "Cheesecake first, though." Once that's out and served, he continues his train of thought.

"I... would never be so bold as to state how many I wanted, since strictly speaking you'd be doing a goodly portion of the work there. But I will say that there's nothing wrong with wanting a large family." He pauses, and grins. "I agree, too. Boys or girls, I don't mind, as long as they're healthy and grow up happy and wiser than their father."

Cor'lana can't help but snicker. "Wiser than you? But then they'd never do reckless things like stand in front of their soulmates and the fey lord that wants them to come live in Quelynos. Think of what you're suggesting!" She can't even finish it with a straight face before she starts laughing harder in that feytouched manner that so hinges on joy plucked from nowhere.

Eventually, she wipes the tears of laughter from her eyes. "As foolish as that was for you to do... I'm not complaining even a bit about it. After all, we're here, enjoying sandwiches and now cheesecake, expected to be wedded, and discussing our future children. I'm just grateful that I met my soulmate that one day in the Arcanists' Society."

With a smirk, she says, "I asked Verna about that meeting, by the way, and she said she didn't realize it was the first time that you and I met. She thought we already knew each other from the way we were talking--and wasn't surprised when she learned later we were courting."

Telamon blushes a bit again -- perhaps he's contemplated his actions in retrospect. But he says, "Well... someone has to be willing to speak up. For others, when they need it. Even if it's foolish, or reckless. Everyone deserves to have an advocate."

His eyebrows shoot up at the mention of Verna. "How is she doing, by the way? You and her have... similar experiences, and I imagine she's pretty eager to get some perspective on her own nature now." He considers the remark about how they seemed to know each other, and says quietly, "Maybe it was meant to happen, you know? We talked about this. About how things fell into place. Maybe we're meant to be together, come what may."

"She's come over for tea lately, while you were off running errands," Cor'lana says with a smile. She finally has a bite of the cheesecake and nods approvingly of her own work--the flavor of the berries have melded perfectly with the sort of decadent creamy flavor that a sublime cheesecake ought to have. "We've talked, and have pleasantly found all sorts of commonalities. She lived a sheltered and isolated life, too--and, like I do with you on occasion, she doesn't quite believe the happiness that her relationship with Auranar has brought her."

Cor'lana grins at Telamon. "What do I keep saying? That we were meant to be together? I'll keep saying it until it lodges in your head, Telamon. I've firmly believed that for a very long time. I may not have faith in much these days, but I'll always have faith in you. In us."

"I'm glad you're staying in contact with her. She needs friends, and so do you," Telamon looks at Lana firmly, but with a smile. "Can't have you being bored when I'm out gadding about. Although I do need to talk to Auranar. She expressed interest in some pointers about 'talent', and I've been remiss in not pursuing that further."

Telamon takes a bite of the cheesecake, relishing it. "Mmm. This is very good. You need to teach me this. I'm sure I can come up with something to offer in exchange." He gives her a sly grin, before continuing, "I've never believed in fate that much, but... for you, I'd believe in it. Only you. Maybe that makes me inconsistent, or foolish, but, well, we've established that I'm a foolish lad already, so what's the point in belaboring it further?"

Cor'lana sticks her tongue out again, although she only does so once she's swallowed another bite of cheesecake. "Don't worry," she says. "Aryia dropped by the other day, too. I have plenty of people who can entertain me when you're not home. And the pixies, too, although Lily-of-the-Valley keeps pestering Mirabilis to read some sort of smut that she's apparently written about us. Aryia offered to read it. I... can't say I expected Aryia to ever befriend any of the fey, but it appears Lily has the magic touch."

Of course, she's proud of Telamon's compliments to her food. "I can teach you, but it might cost you... Hmmm... Your hand in marriage. And I wouldn't worry about being deemed 'inconsistent' or 'hypocritical'. We simply know our love is the truth, and we have each other as evidence to prove it."

Telamon looks thoughtful. "I wonder... hm. They don't put on airs, they are who they are -- just like us. I imagine Aryia likes that. And besides, it's hard to get mad at those two -- they ARE rather funny." He arches his eyebrow at the remark about smut. "What, like... Crimson Pen? By the gods, do not tell her about that. The last thing we need is Lily sending in submissions."

His eyes sparkle at Lana's obvious happiness at the compliment. "Hm. Hard bargain, but done! And as you said, we know who we are, and we accept it. Happy to be the person that we've become, because it's led us to this moment, here and now."

Cor'lana looks a little... Well, her enthusiasm about Aryia and Lily's budding friendship is dampened a little as she says, "Well, apparently Lily already knows. She talked about submitting it to the Crimson Pen and Aryia said she should. Mirabilis swore to me she'd try and destroy the manuscript, and that's all I've heard about it since then."

She takes another bite of cheesecake and nods. "And it's hard not to enjoy this moment," she says, gesturing to the fireflies around Telamon. "I mean, my husband-to-be attracts a little light show wherever he goes in the summer evenings. It's rather romantic, you know?"

Telamon just... lifts his eyes to the heavens, silently. But he doesn't offer reproach or condemnation. He just shakes his head. "Ah well. Could be worse. Didn't we also learn that Addy's father writes as well?" He tries to stifle it, but the absurdity of what he's saying catches up to him, and he begins to laugh helplessly.

After a few moments of leaning on the table, he manages to pull in enough air to speak, rubbing his arm across his eyes. "Gods. What a world." He looks up at Lana's comment, and smiles, "Honestly, I was so distracted by you I'd forgotten about them." Indeed, the fireflies seem to be giving the couple a little respectful space, though they happily orbit around them like a cloud of sparks. "Another constant in this ever changing world," he says, taking another bite and saluting Lana with his fork.

Cor'lana can't help but giggle, too, her feytouched nature getting to her. Just as her joy is his joy, the same goes in reverse, and her violet eyes twinkle with the lights of the fireflies. "May you always stay distracted by me," she says. "If I remain your one constant, and you mine, then I'll always be happy."

And in a move that's usually more at home on the other side of the table, she takes Telamon's free hand and puts it up to her lips, kissing it. "May we be happy for the rest of our days, Telamon Lúpecyll-Atlon," she says. Not that's officially his name yet--nor is the family name officially hers--but it's only a matter of time before it is.

Telamon cups her cheek, smiling back. "I'd drink to that, love. And I look forward to all the days ahead of us, Cor'lana Lúpecyll-Atlon." Maybe it's not their names yet, but even the possibility can have a weight all its own. The two sitting together in the cloudy evening, fireflies swirling around them in a bright dance.

On the other side of the river watches a robed, hooded figure, almost invisible in the gloom. Watching the pair, a soft sigh coming from the cowl. "The two of you keep each other strong," he murmurs. "I hope it'll be enough, lad. Dark times still, and we need you to carry the light."

And with that, the robed form turns, the fabric hanging strangely on the figure as it vanishes into the shadows.