If the Shoe Fits

Log Info

• Title: If the Shoe Fits

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Market District

• Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon are preparing for meeting fey nobility, and that means... new clothes. But Ravenstongue is overwhelmed a little, so she suggests a break, which they take at a small cafe that they've never been in before. A little meal and a nice talk puts the pep back into Ravenstongue, and off the sorcerer-spouses go for shoes shopping!

Market District, evening.

The sun is setting on another mild spring day in Alexandria, the sky painted a brilliant palette of oranges and blues over the Market District that makes the open space sing just a bit more. But a certain pair of half-elf sorcerer-spouses are more concerned with the buildings around the open market rather than the more temporary stalls and pushcarts. Cor'lana's face is rosy red as she and Telamon leave a particular shop that recently opened up--one where the name of the business, 'Close to the Chest Garments', is a little on the nose about what exactly is sold there.

"Alright," she says, holding her shopping bag close like it contains a little secret (and maybe it does, in a way). "When you said we had to go shopping for attire to meet a fey queen, I didn't expect you to encourage me to go in there. I'm not exactly stripping down to my underpinnings before the Wee Queen. Where are we headed next?"

"Aren't you the one who always tells me that fey sensibilities are not the same as mortal ones?" Telamon replies with aplomb. "At least you didn't have to show them off to me in the store. The point, though, is that if you're going to see a queen -- even a fey queen -- you have to dress the part." He looks thoughtful. "Remind me to swing by Jovani's tomorrow, he's got a couple things for me as well. In the meantime, though... well, you have jewelry, and your adventuring accoutrements. Shoes. Do you have proper shoes?"

He pauses, watching a couple fellows go past, carrying a cask of wine. "Boy, I hope they don't jostle that too much. I think that's Verdalarian, and it's hard to transport. Even with careful shipping you have to let it sit for a week to recover."

"I mean, it's true," Cor'lana replies, still red-faced, her arm around his tightening a little as she grapples with embarrassment. "But I just couldn't get over how pretty everything in there was." (Or the idea of me wearing them,) she also admits mentally, as, well... she had pictured herself wearing many of the products, which were definitely sent down through the telepathic bond.

She shakes her head to get her mind off pretty things made from lace and silk, and she casts a glance to the ground where her feet are. "I, errr--I think I own only three pairs of shoes," she says. "Four if you count the fuzzy bear slippers. Are we going to go try on shoes next?" Her violet eyes spy the cask of wine, and she purses her lips nervously. (I just hope they don't trip and we get wine all over us,) she thinks.

(You look good in everything, and I cheerfully admit to wanting to see some of those little things on you.) Telamon never changes expression, but there's a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he replies telepathically. Carefully, though, he leads Lana well out of the way of the workers. "Let's not get in their way," he says calmly.

As the cask-bearers go past and away, Telamon nods. "I think you need some shoes, yes. I won't ask you to try and wear high heels -- you've made your opinion on that one clear -- but some nice slippers might be a good choice."

(You know, if half of the people who think I'm the Temptress of Alexandria saw me turning red in the face after leaving a lingerie shop with you, they wouldn't think that I'm half the flirt that the Crimson Pen portrays me as,) Cor'lana comments grumpily in the bond, and unlike her husband, her expression does change to a pout--although it doesn't last long as Telamon leads her out of the way of potential cask-tastrophe.

She peers around... and she sighs. "Maybe we need a shopping break," Cor'lana says out loud. There's a sudden sense of gloominess and a tired feeling in the bond, which Telamon can recognize as something that happens when Cor'lana's been wound up a little too tightly or has had to deal with a little too much at once, her somewhat introverted personality amplified by her feytouched nature. "Could we grab a little snack from somewhere? A slice of cake, maybe?"

Telamon keeps that serene expression, though his emotions down the link darken a touch. (I wish they wouldn't talk about you so. I don't like it much.) He leads Lana along the street, his eyes casting around for a good option.

But when Lana asks for a break, he turns his eyes to hers and smiles. "Actually, that might be a good idea. I think we've both been on our feet for a bit." He looks around, catching sight of a small bakery and cafe tucked in between a hatter and an antiquities shop. "That looks promising," he suggests.

Cor'lana's mood already brightens a little just for finding the cafe, feeling a little like a cold pond that one has their ankles in suddenly warming enough to be bearable. "Order a pot of tea for us?" she asks as she walks in, already claiming a table somewhere quiet and cozy inside by walking over to it, although she doesn't sit, as she's used to Telamon pulling her seat out for her, as a gentleman does. "And whatever you think looks tasty off the menu."

Her violet eyes spend a moment looking around the small cafe, taking in the decorations. It's a small and cozy place, that's for certain, but there's none of the admirers that Telamon's inadvertently amassed here, there's no Zalgiman, and there's no Tribune reporters nor the true identity of the Crimson Pen lurking around the corner--or so one can hope on that last one, anyway. Which means it's perfect for taking a break.

Tel smoothly draws out the seat for Lana, as the owner bustles over, clearly not seeing 'power couple of Alexandria' but probably closer to 'nobles with money'. Which isn't too far off. Nodding to his wife, he turns to the fellow. "A pot of good tea and two cups, sir. And..." his eyes flick to the chalkboard denoting today's offerings. "The sampler selection."

"Absolutely, your lordship!" the owner says effusively. "Right away!" He practically sprints off as Tel starts to deny the whole 'lord' thing again. "But I'm not... oh forget it," he shakes his head. Instead, he sits down with Lana, taking her hand. "I keep having to tell people that."

Cor'lana giggles a little, the twinkle back in her violet eyes as he takes her hand. There's a happy Lana again! "I can't blame anyone who mistakes you," she says. "After all, you are my starborn king. To me, you're the man most deserving of the title 'king' there could be, so long as the domain is limited solely to my heart."

She squeezes Telamon's hand a little. "I'm... Well, I'm a little nervous, I have to admit," she says. "About everything we're slated to do. I just hope I can find out some information to help Pothy out. And that we can go back to..."

Cor'lana pauses. "Well, I don't really know what counts as normal for us. We are, after all, adventurers and sorcerers. I am who I am and there's nothing normal about me. I know that much." There's a light smile on her lips.

Telamon smiles, seeing Lana's spirits rise. That always makes him happy, for certain. "I know, but... Jyndei was calling me 'my lord' not long ago, while we were in the TarRaCe and the makari servant there started getting nervous -- probably because 'lord of dragons' is a bit ominous." He sighs. "I've never sought to be a lord, or a king -- except of your heart, and I know I've got that."

He squeezes her hand in return. "'Normal' is kind of a relative thing, love. How about 'peaceful'? Where the worst we have to deal with is me getting the garden ready for planting, and you having to keep Pothy from sampling the dessert while you're trying to make it? We're never going to be 'normal', but a little peace would be nice."

Cor'lana grins at memories of the time that's gone by. "And when we were learning more about each other," she says softly, her eyes sparkling still. "And I was falling even more for you with every passing day, and you for me, and even now, that continues. We still get peace, I suppose--just in shorter bits of time, stolen away from the demands of the world and kept preciously to our chests like secrets."

There she goes, rattling off lines that will surely be turned into poetry later. She giggles softly. "Am I being too much?" Cor'lana asks. The sparkle in her eyes suggests that she already knows the answer, because of course she does--the mental bond hides nothing between them.

Telamon simply smiles and shakes his head, as the tea is brought out. It's a strong blend with lemon and honey, and he deftly pours for both of them. "I don't think it is. I've... never been very ambitious. Oh, I want to build a life I can look back on and be proud of, but titles? Lands? Let my title be 'husband', let my castle be the home I share with you." His eyes sparkle back at her. "Humble pursuits, but the ones that matter most."

"Speaking of humble pursuits," he chuckles, "I've received a request from the College to do some more lectures. Evidently the little impromptu demonstration and talk afterwards were very popular." He pauses, and his expression grows faintly rueful, "Though I can't help but suspect a number of young debutante-students may have tipped the scales in that decision..."

The discussion of young debutante-students gets a little snicker from Cor'lana, who takes up the teacup that her husband has so kindly poured for her. "I understand where they're coming from," she says, "but... what's the child's nursery rhyme? Finders, keepers, losers, weepers?"

She takes a sip of her tea as she mentally adds on, (Maybe you should make a habit of mentioning your wife every so often? 'Oh, my wife and I love this spell.' Just to remind them you are a happily married man and that they have no hopes of ensnaring your heart. I know you proudly wear the ring and curuchuil, but you and I both know the cultural customs are not known by all.)

Cor'lana finishes her sip. "That is really quite lovely," she says aloud now that she's not occupied with the consumption of tea.

The sampler platter soon follows; a selection of honeycakes, sugarcakes, and sweetbuns filled with jelly. "Good gods," Telamon comments. "How did we miss this fellow? Pothy will be furious if we don't bring some home." He takes a sip of tea, and a bite of a honeycake, before responding mentally.

(I do, actually. It came up when one sharp-eyed lass noticed my curuchuil and asked about it. I... think I have an idea of what's going on, though.) A pause, as he mentally organizes his thoughts. (It's... like a crush, but less foolish. They know I'm not attainable. That I'm happily married. But they can't help but admire me. Think of all the fellows you wished to meet from your books -- it's not too different from that.) He smiles. (And in time, they'll find their own soul-mates, and merely remember me as a kind, handsome fellow who put up with their mooning and didn't crush their dreams -- but pointed them onward.)

"Especially considering we've visited the hatter next door before. I'm not sure how we managed to miss it," Cor'lana says with a tiny grin, beholding the sampler platter that's put out before them. She reaches for her own honeycake and snaps into it.

She contemplates what Telamon says for a long moment. It's an interesting thing, as Telamon can hear and feel her thought process--a brief imagined scene of what it might have been like to be herself, a teenager, shyly observing a similarly young Telamon from afar in Ylvaliel as she ducks behind a tree and peeks her bespectacled eyes beyond the rim of the tree to behold the beautiful boy she fell for from afar, but would have been far to shy to ever even approach him. (I never had anything like that in real life,) Cor'lana replies in the bond. (Not even close. I suppose I can understand their perspective--so I'm not nearly as jealous as some wives might be.) There's a little smirk on Cor'lana's face as she finishes her honeycake.

(You'd have to be a saint to not feel a little concern. But it helps that I have experienced this. There was a baroness in Myrddion who I honestly was dumbfounded by, but frankly so was half the court.) A wry pause. (When she figured out why I was tongue-tied, she patted my cheek and told me I was going to make some girl extremely happy someday. And lo and behold, she was right!)

Telamon sits back, munching on a honeycake, before grinning at Lana. "The point, love, is that we all have these little crushes as we grow up. But... ultimately, they're not love. We may think they're love, especially when we're young and foolish, but they're not. And since I've fallen in love, and married, I understand what that baroness meant." He pauses, and grins. "I'm glad to have found my way to you."

Cor'lana smiles fondly. "That baroness had the right of it," she says, reaching over to take his hand again, which makes it a little more inconvenient for Telamon to enjoy the food... but such is the price one pays for love, sometimes. "And so do you, I think. If anything, I'm just glad my crushes were wholly fictional--because when it turned out there was someone out there perfect for me who would love me in ways I never imagined I could be loved, it made the reality all the more special."

She takes a sip of her tea before she says, "I'm ever grateful we met that day. That Pothy decided to harass you out of all of the people in that courtyard, and that you stayed by my side even when things got very odd--and that you demonstrated how much you cared for me even as a friend. That will always remain important to me, forever."

Telamon lifts her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, and his love and devotion flows down the bond like a warm draught of the tea they're drinking. "I won't deny I was curious. Most familiars aren't that... pushy. And then I got to know you and I found I liked you. And then... well, Grandfather saw what I hadn't realized yet." He blushes a bit. "But no regrets, no second thoughts. I am yours, you are mine. And all will be well."

"So to bring us back to the matter at hand... while I'm sure a couple of those girls are entertaining foolish thoughts, most seem to be sensible enough to enjoy the spectacle without letting their hearts get dragged too far in. Kind of like a circus: fun to watch, but I'd pass on doing some of the tricks myself."

"I don't know," Cor'lana says with a little grin after she finishes her cup of tea, flushing a little from his kiss on her hand (because of course she does). "I was more than content to be the person who never took part in any circus, but then... I found myself besotted with a certain kind of acrobat, and now we run around the world and the planes to do things most people wouldn't dare dream of doing."

She contemplates taking another honeycake, but appears to pass on it, either for Telamon to take or for them to take home to Pothy later. "I'm sure the girls are, and will be, fine," she says. "I'm not all that concerned, as I know that you know how to defend yourself... Just as I know how to defend myself. The word is just as mighty as the spell, as I have proven so recently." There's a satisfied smirk on her face with that.

Telamon strokes her hand some more, as he sips his tea with his free hand. "Besotted? That's the part that I keep being stunned by. I... guess sometimes I can't believe I'm that special. All I know is that I love you and I'm happy to be by your side."

He takes the opportunity to finish his second cake, but seems uninclined to eat any more as well. At Lana's self-satisfied grin, Tel's eyes twinkle. "Are you referring to worming info out of Zalgiman, or did you set a new high mark for me to hit with my command of the spoken word?"

Cor'lana's eyes twinkle back at Telamon's, although hers don't have the benefit of having stars in them like her husband's eyes do. "No, just getting information out of Zalgiman," she says. "Speaking of which, it'd be awfully nice if we got to act on that information I learned. It would make things vastly simpler if a certain someone no longer was troubling us in our dreams, you know?"

She looks down to the sampler and the food that is left. "Let's get this gathered into a box," she suggests, "and then we can go... Oh, I don't know, see if the shoe fits?" It's a bit of an anemic attempt at being witty, but she's smiling nonetheless. It's hard not to smile, after all, when her soulmate is right there across the table from her and holding her hand.

Telamon chuckles. "I won't pretend I was happy with that, but that's more protectiveness than anything else. Still, it was worth it." He rubs his chin. "We did steal Zinskas's totem, so he may not be able to chase us as effectively in dreams. A shame we didn't get to put him out of his misery, but -- eh, one fight at a time."

Tel reaches up to gesture towards the back, and the owner comes out again. "A bag or box, please? We'd like to take this with us -- oh, hold on..." He reaches into his haversack, removing his purse, and begins putting down silver coins. "You have excellent cakes, sir. We will most likely be back with a friend of ours to put them to the test." The owner nods happily. "Absolutely, your lordship! Please, tell all your friends!"

As the man bustles off again, Tel opens his mouth, then just shakes his head. "Let's go find some shoes that fit you, love. Before someone mistakes us for barons or something..."

Such is the life of the Lúpecyll-Atlons.