Ada's Dream

[Lady Eirian Gwenyth Apollius]

Eirian: The Isle was not wide, but diverse in how one house or a few gathered houses created a distinct region. Bant Chan Ser, The Valley of Stars, was true to the nickname it garnered of 'Little Wales'. The language had taken foothold here to be the sort one did with business or pleasure. Fair skinned beauties mixed with the Scottish brass to forumulate their own sorts of stories under the trees that remained -evergreen as they looked out on the roads where the ones lacking tht advantage. Naked limbs formed the over-pass from the upper end of the eastern coast down into the Mountain's depths. Little hills easily became their larger constituates. In the deepest, prettiest portions of the valley where waterfalls spilled off into mists is where the Lady of the Vally lived in Arianna Hymerodraeth, The Silver Empire. Eirian was every bit Welsh in appearence. Still, she remained unique in several ways. One of these was having a daughter with almond shaped, slanted eyes. Another was how the winter attire patterned in a usual shade of blue took influence from a far away place. The dress segmented into rectangular pieces, while beneath it was more flowing skirt in European variety. Welsh persons did also not go about with embroidered temples on their robes, nor large silver sashes. Expecting no company that they knew of, Eirian took the chance to take herself and daughter towards a room who's music was the waterfalls cascading about the windows. First, she chattered to the baby in Welsh, before seeing if her mind could grasp the strange language of another place. (d)

Ada: Peregrine introduced her to her ship, which he had seen fit to outfit and paint in a way that would please Ada. And it had, so much that she had been speechless, stepping away from him as she let visceral memories of a night too near to the present to pass. Did the memories ever fade, she wondered? Would they, if he insisted on reminding her of them? Painted on the sails was the tree under which they had made love, and in his heart was a song of Avaria and a dream of their child that he believed belonged to another life. Had things gone differently, had they met under better stars, were fate kinder. It had taken Ada a long time to leave that ship after Pere went back to Rosalind, as he always must. But upon waking in the strange bed in the captain's quarters -- her quarters, now -- she knew where she had to go. She had not gone to Avaria, but she knew who had. She knew whose heart also sang for the island nation, and whose advice would be more meaningful than the biased words of the old gypsy woman, and less morally challenging than those of Jean-Claude. He meant well, but her heart always felt battered and bruised after conversations about Peregrine. Eirian's touch, Ada had to believe, was much softer. She would understand dreams. Leaving the captain's hat on the bed, she rented a horse from the livery and spent the day picking her way along the roads, taking the long way around, until she reached a valley that spoke to Ada's spirit. Even the evergreens seemed to whisper their welcomes to the sage of Embrun, who was not feeling so sage today, but more the wandering and ignorant child, an old soul who was unfortunately made to feel new again. Peregrine's trees no longer spoke to her, their mission completed. Did he know? She pushed her hair out of her face, stopped at a tavern for a refresher snack, and heard directions to the Lady Eirian's home from the innkeep. Climbing back upon the horse, it wasn't much longer before she was dismounting once again, destination reached. *

Eirian: Snow fall met the traveler with the touch of a lover's hand.Swirls of indefininte shapes danced their dances through the naked branches before exploding hard against the evergreens. They turned into silver, than gold in the reflection of farm hearths dotting the landscapes. A keen eye could make out Willingham, one who strained might make out Drynoch at the very end. For those at the beginning who sought nothing else, there was always the road itself. Flat, packed earth no doubt made a little soft now. Straight, then twisted. Making steps, then descending to craddle you in the valley of the hills as to be pressed against the breasts of a woman. Turas Lan promised an end to the journey by meaning of name. It invited with its many wonders but all that glittered couldn't ever be gold. Distant lands grow sour if the fruit tasted is no longer sugar-sweet. Bitterness pervades the most beautiful, the most sacred things. So some came to the valley to begin again. Others came for clarity that was not so easy to ascertain by following the whispered strain of talk that the Lady of the Valley was also one of insight. By the time night was close to falling, this place also lived up to its new. Silver aura run around even Ada herself as she was taken notice of at the home of the woman who's name too, meant this. We all mean something. "Good evening, what can be done for ye tonight?" The Steward answered, his wife not far behind him. It had been long since any called which seemed to suit the Apollius' well enough. (d)

Ada: Ada held the reins in her hand, against the saddle of the horse, realizing as cold trickled against her scalp that it would have been wise to pull the hood up of her cloak. It swelled around her in a soft wind, the deep blue not of the finest dye, the cloth not even of the finest weave, but it was warm and comfortable, as the clothes beneath did not particularly serve for either purpose. "Bonsoir," Ada offered with a tilt of her head. "Forgive me for calling without notice, monsieur, but I wished to speak with your lady on a personal matter. Is she at home?" Ada would wait, regardless. There was undoubtedly a tavern she could go to. That failing, she would sleep under a tree. It would not be the first, nor would it be the last time she had need to sleep under the open stars. She turned her head while the man went to deliver her message, and began soaking in the sights anew. She had watched carefully as the road unfolded, the world growing a little fuzzier as the snow lingered in the humid Scottish air, each new bend in the road revealing a little more of a fairytale landscape that reminded Ada of nowhere she had ever been, but of what she had always longed to see. The hills, of course, reminded her of her descent down from Embrun, leaving the Alps and her childhood behind, though she had done that on foot. What a long way she had come between then and now, she mused, dark eyes glimmering with warmth. A keen eye would never observe Ada was troubled; she did not consider herself anything less than perfectly content with the world as is. It would work itself out, things always did. *
Eirian: "The Lady is in, please. My son will see to your horse, the mistress here will show you where you may wait for her to receive you." No visitor was turned away. Eirian once told the Steward that if all things could be arranged, there would be no need for change. Without change, everything is stagnant. The Steward's slightly taller son would collect the reigns once Ada offered them, and she would find both doors of the estate pulled back. Natural light invaded the inner floor where a bird circled round and round celestial bodies. The brown background did little to inhibit notice, because the light was plentiful. "G'eve to ye, miss. Tis a bit late n' blustery fer a ride, don't youthink? We'll fetch you something to warm ye while we are in the business of showin' ye where the Lady is, n' all that matter. " She pressed her hands to a stout, thick waistline, unappreciative but amused by the habits of the current generation of women that disregarded things. "Yer cloak? I'll hang tha' up by a fire, to dry." She walked with Ada down a long hall with wide, open structure gazing down into the valley floor. The round central area came after, with the length of halls accounting for the absence of many stairs. Avaria hung here in a Red Phoenix banner while the valley's heraldy was merely an eight pointed star set in a shield. It was not easy to tell where the usual bastians of a home were, but half of the surprise was the journey itself! "Ye can sit here by the fire. I'll send for some tea n' fetch the lady." Now if Ada was not one to wait, the sound of a voice singing was coming from behind her, behind slightly shut doors. Evident that the lady went the wrong way to fetch Eirian, Ada was put in the right place at the right time. Curiosity killed the cat, or so it said, or did the cat instead merely stay where it had gone? (d)

Ada: "Thank you, mistress," Ada offered politely, handing over the wet cloak and standing by the fire as steam rose from her clothes. She rotated slowly like a chicken on a rotisserie, but soon grew tired of waiting, and the sounds of an odd language piqued her curiosity more than the woman and her promises of tea had piqued her appetite. She scrunched her hair with her fingers to make it a little more presentable than a giant cloud of black curls, and the mane settled into classic Ada, so full it was impossible to tell its true length, the dark color striking against winter pale skin, though in the spring and summer, she would come to a happy balance working under the sun. Though she took notice of surroundings, she wasn't sure of their meanings, and eyes passed across unfamiliar heraldry, wishing she knew what the devices were as much as she wished she knew where the key in her pocket went. Unlike the key, however, here she could have answers, and she placed a hand against the door and pushed slowly, her fingers sliding over the wood. "Eirian," she said warmly, eyes crinkling slightly in the corners in amusement, though she was quiet after, not wishing to interrupt the lullaby. *

Erian: "Oh, you're welcome. Ye looked like a soaked duck, dearie. We'll a'fix that." Soaked duck? The plump woman wandered off into the shadows to handle the affairs of her posistion, leaving the guest to her own devices. The odd language was an invitation to said guest to roam. The speaker saw no problem with this, for as the doors opened the woman whom had the lot in life of being a permanent alabaster at all times looked over one slightly exposed white shoulder. She smiled, nodding for Ada to approach before turning back to her daughter's amusement. She sat on one of the steps going down into the wide room, her leg crossed over the other to support an instrument known as the pipa. Hope clapped her hands slightly, only to lean against the soft surrounding cushions lulled by the language on her mother's mouth. "Welcome to Arianna Hymerodraeth, though I wonder what brings you so far from the city, in the snow! Please, come sit. It is comfortable here. I was making my small one dream, so that mother could sit." She laughed, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ears (d)

Ada: "Mostly idiocy," Ada offered genially, taking a seat beside the lady and envying the child. Both mother and daughter were beautiful beyond words, and the joy in Hope's eyes offered no choice but to smile in return. "To my credit, it was not snowing when I left. But the weather changes in the mountains very quickly, no? Not living in them for so long, I nearly forgot. She is delightful," Ada offered quietly after a moment, leaning back on her fists to examine the room. Everything here seemed so easy. So peaceful. So effortlessly at one, drawing one inward and outward at the same time. Ada wished she had that sort of sense in decorating. Her collection of things made a person feel instantly at home, but there was an innate practicality to everything she owned. Ada sniffed. She could smell the sort of cold wetness that only came with snow. Nothing else was quite the same. It was a pretty scent, one that went well with a crackling fire, good company, and a pretty child hopefully drifting off toward sleep. "I've been having dreams. Strange dreams. I thought.... You seem the perceptive type." *

Eirian: "Foolishness has its reasons.Even in winter. It never begins to snow, but it is Scotland. Just like it never begins to rain." Scotland was wet and dynamic. Skye was just as wet and twice as dynamic. Hope looked up at Ada from with half lids, only to open them and grin. Who was this new visitor? She pulled herself to her feet in order to climb from the cushioned line lowest step to the second, to have a look at Ada starting with her wet hems. Fat, chubby fingers were ceaseless in their investigation, but the eyes were wide enough to indicate that Hope was given stronger blood than Eirian had at birth. No blindness covered those eyes! She took hold of Ada's knee, bouncing about and speaking her little words as children often do. "Ada, my daughter Hope. She's incredibly precocious and curious." The instrument in her lap was hand painted with roses and lady's holding fans. Craddled in willow arms, she listened to the talk of dreams while Hope wanted to learn of Ada another way. The word dream seemed to turn her attention onto the sage, whom she looked at with wide brown eyes holding starbust shaped blue centers and outer rim. "So I am told, but if an artist's perception may help, than I am keen to do so..." She turned the child outward to the middle of the room to have at the space to adventure. The walls around them were panted a simple tan, bare save for the flickering low lanterns on the wall. She stood to amend the light a little, to give her physical sight a better advantage. It was hard to tell, but did she merely blow on it to increase the brightness? "What sort of dreams have you been having..come..I will make you tea and then we will come back. Hope will be fine, it is the cat we can worry over." (d)

Ada: "She looks like her mother's daughter." The girl was curious, bright, and utterly charming. Ada didn't know the first thing about children, but she liked them. She also assumed she would learn one way or another what to do with one. She eased herself to her feet, smoothing the skirts down over her stomach. It was impossible to tell from looking the change in Ada's body. Her breasts were fuller, which Jean-Claude had not entirely taken into consideration for the gown he made for the masque, and her stomach taut, but hardly was she bulky or awkward, and it would be a few months before she approached either. "I have been dreaming of Avaria. I have never been there, but I know what it is." She closed her eyes, as if to capture the memory, and smiled faintly. "Trees, higher than they ought to be. And I am running through them, out of joy, not fear. Overhead, the sky is a deep black, but the leaves sway in the wind, and there are some ... birds? Something, flying overhead, with large, flapping wings. I dream of that place nearly every night, and it is peaceful. I never startle myself awake, but I could spend hours there, in that forest." She opened her eyes, sliding them in the direction of Eirian. "And I dream of my daughter. As does Peregrine." *

Eirian: "Thank you. She has her mother's affinity for running in fields, which is beautiful save for when mother is five months agone with little brother." How did she know what the child inside of her was? Like Ada, she did not give an outward clue, at least not in this outfit, of her condition. They walked, they spoke of tall trees that on mention made her smile widen. She too shut her eyes, and for an instant heard the voice of the country from the top of the hills to the scream in the sea. The time on it was short, too short. Part of her yearned for it still as much as she yearned for the valley. "It is said that before the land accepted its first missionaries of the Christ, that was alive in a strange, marvelous way. There is truth in every story, and it is still so now. Ada, there is no place more wild in its beauty, cruel in its taking, yet embracing in those who embrace her. Men is what changed her, but the woods are changeless. I think your dreams are simple in that they tell you to seek such a place, for you are comfortable against the breast of the earth, devoid of men's ways of constriction. The island is not far, but itisn't listed on maps, nor can it be seen easily because of the thick mists surrounding it...please, sit." They had walked across the outer room with its wide fire and over toward one of the two kitchens. This one was smaller than the larger, intimate. Herbs hung upside down drying, and it was evident the Lady's handiwork was in the stew in the pot. Bread was in the oven, and now it was the art of tea being concocted that made the simple memorable. It even began with taking from jars of already dried herb, for chamomile was very calming. She trapped it in cheesecloth, and began to quickly seal the edges with a kitchen needle holding string. She settled this inside of a painted pot with scenes from a memory in the Northern Avarian Mountains. The tall trees reaching up for the snow. "Peregrine adores that place, as does Apollo. Even away from it, it stays apart of you. So then it must be a part of you now, for what is inside you, and so apart of your daughter. I had similar dreams while I was pregnant with hope. One foot was in Avaria as I lay out. Another touched upon Wales. My right hand, it reached for Orient of my youth, Hope's blood, and her blood father. My left, to the sky and heaven. So then Hope is also all of these things, and a child with two fathers. One whom loves her as his own, who's spirit becomes like her blood, who's name she wears. The other one is the man that made her in my body, whom our time of love was years, and many seperations, and much heartache. Still, one can not deny who and what they are. It isn't good for you to do it either. You should go where you are called." She took up some clothes to take the kettle off the fire, pour hot water in the tea kettle, then replace it (d)

Ada: Ada sat down rather abruptly, stirred by Eirian's words. She was a little frightened of Avaria. It was the last place she had ever thought she would go, but there was no denying it was calling. She watched Eirian prepare the tea, her thoughts to herself for the moment, as if she could pull them together in a large net and sort through them in the short span of time, wrapped in the warmth of Eirian's home. "When I came to Skye, I did not know what to expect in the least. I was grieving for my master. I was grieving for Paris. For what I left behind there, and what I could never have again. But I was hopeful, too. My master sent his possessions ahead. His books, his equipment, whatever he could smuggle out. I took the rest, packed in trunks that came with me across England. My first week there, I nearly lost it all again to the invasion. The fire stopped at my back door, and while the world around me seemed decimated, there was a small green plant that managed to thrive near the step. My bit of mint, whose cuttings now thrive under Janice's care." She smiled warmly at the thought. That weed was resilient indeed, and made a good addition to some chamomile flowers. "I have been lucky all my life, even if there has been misfortune, too. I believed Jean-Claude dead, but imagine my surprise when I saw him here. Imagine what my heart did, when it awakened profoundly in love with him. I have lived my life like a leaf coursing down river, following the stream's path, enjoying the sights along the way, but never did I think this lifetime.... That in this lifetime, I would find the other half of my soul, that primordial bit of me that has existed since the earth was formed. He is here, and ... so is another." She pressed her fingers to her lips for a moment to think, returning inward as she always did, visualizing the chambers of her heart to regulate her breathing, seeing the deep, nearly black of arterial blood pushing through veins to feed organs. "I know Peregrine is bound to Rosalind. He loves her. He is devoted to her in such a way that it would be cruel to both of them, particularly to a woman I love dearly and is more deserving than I to be loved so, to tell Peregrine I am havng his child. I cannot stay here, Eirian. I cannot have him find out. I cannot risk Rosalind's heart, it was broken as it is letting him come to me that night. Stars, we are fools, cursed fools on the wrong side of fate, in just this one instance. Leaving never would have been a problem before I came to Skye, yes? But now it is. I have found I love my shop. I love my life here. And I live and breathe for Jean-Claude. If I had not seen her in my dream, I would have.... I might have...." She looked up to the herbs hanging from Eirian's walls and sighed. "I leave, and break my heart. Or I stay, and break Rosalind's. The choice is easy when framed in such a way, but until recently, I thought I would merely go to one of those little islands, live in a cave. No matter to me, you know, but now it seems I'm meant to go to Avaria." *

Ada: "Even leaves that have broken free were once connected to trees, and the tree to its roots, and the roots to the very thing we stand on. It is impossible for us to live without connections, my friend. Things never make sense until we come across the other end of them, and as strange as this may seem now, when you give birth to your child an immeasurable amount of clairty will come. I knew nothing until Hope, and was still fabled to know a great many things. You are able to love more than one, for we are connected to more than one. Some bonds are stronger, some weaker, some we can not deny and some pull us away, but for a little. So you will leave your shop and your life, but who is to say you can not come back? You are not condemned, nor mark with some ill letter. Are you? No.." She grinned, pouring tea into Ada's wooden cup and some into her own. The piercing clarity of her eyes was almost so that one could see themselves, and their lives in them, and so Ada might. "as you saw with the fire things are consumed and from it a fertile soil makes new. Your heart may ache now." She touched the place on Ada's chest, before gently tucking one of the woman's curls behind her ears, "But there are many ways to express love and many ways the bond is translated. Who is to say that what you may see as a sort of exile is but one more step in the journey that is Ada?None that have ever gone to Avarian shores leave the same. This is not a terrible thing. Have your tea before you catch a cold, and give it to your daughter." She jested, considering things as she gazed off toward the fire. "I was merely a shepard's child in England, and sheep and fabric and all was my life until one day..it was not. It is amazing what being a bastad child of royalty can do. It..pulled me from what was known but sent me to places, and from those places the one constant was knowledge. Knowledge is power, and were that I could have been a nun in her cloister with writings of saints, would I have been! In Scotland, I've watched kingdoms fall apart, been close to monarchs and made the consort of generals and the love of men with shields. We build. We lose. We rebuild, we lose again. It is a cycle..round and round. Until you find the core of the lesson, to repeat it another way. Hope's father, Zahak, was one half of my soul. His strange ways set me free. I danced, as I would not have in Europe. My weakness was not so weak among the medicine, nor was my slight blindness an inhibition. No..I learned things I would never take back, and loved as I never have. But that became broken. He was captured, and returned in another place..only to be taken, and returned..and then..he..left. He was called back to his country...and it is said he saw me with Talion. If I had never freed myself of Zahak's name, I would have never been free. His freedom then would have constrained me. Then the love we'd shared would have been for naught, nor could Hope see that her life was to be spent on waiting. Talion? I have loved perhaps as long as I have loved Zahak. They served on the same military side..and as I traveled I had dreams of Talion. We spoke in them real as I speak to you. He was my friend. Once during Zahak's length of time away i was engaged to another...and on his return...I was a good wife. I wasn't going to do that again. Choices to make, not to make. True freedom is the freedom of free will. You know it is not based in sex, nor creeds, nor classes. Free will and how it is expressed. You're no more a fool than I am Ada, for being so deeply touched by what is over and done. Your daughter will be one of the best pieces of that, and the best piece of you. Just as this life now..and having been to Avaria, pulled out the better of me. This, is truly the beginning." (d)

Ada: Ada smiled and drew the tea to her lips, enjoying the warmth and the smell, while the memory of her most recent burn from another tea prevented her from drinking it so hot. "I do know. These things ... they are what I have known since birth, what my mother taught me, and her mother before her, and so on through all the generations who lived and breathed in Embrun. When it was invaded by the barbarians, the Romans, the Christians with their churches, and the barbarians again, this long generation of women remained true to who they were, and the gods they worshipped. They loved, and I am proud that I was taught to love in such a way, to be so free and open, yet even I know ... it is not the way of most. If I keep stumbling through Peregrine's life, I will harm the one he loves most, and those children they share. I cannot be an obstacle to that. I cannot stop myself from loving him, but I can keep him from ruining what he has waited more than a lifetime to have. It is not about me right now, but about him. And while I have always been far too self-sacrificing for my own good, this I know is how it must be." She sighed, but the eyes were twinkling again, and she took a sip of her tea, commenting on how good it was. "I do not struggle with loving more at once. I do not argue with myself who I love more. Peregrine knows. He does not need to ask. It would be a vanity to put me on the spot; my heart always goes back to Jean-Claude. I think you know how this is. I also do not worry about whether to keep the child. She is mine. She is me. She may curse me for not knowing who her father is, but she will be awash in such love as to spoil a child. I worry about her. Such parents as she will have...." Ada smiled quickly. Peregrine would no doubt suspect the child was his. Ada would do nothing to disprove the notion. Nor would she give him a definitive answer. But Pere belonged to another world, was part of something Ada dreamed about every night. And she had little idea of what she was, just that it had nearly burned a country down to its foundations, and was responsible for a long, thin scar down her back and one curving beneath her breast. She made a noise in the back of her throat, something that drew her out of her thoughts, and made her think about the life Eirian had led thus far. "You consider yourself free." *

Yesterdays Fancy: "It is not the way of most but it does not make it any less valid, or even beautiful really. Were that so many could love without constraint, or to see so many gods leading to one god, leading to many things..perhaps we should all be a litle better for it. The Phoenix God is was the God of my first husband, imagine my startling realization that it was also my husband's symbol upon the Avarian flag. No, you can not stop yourself from loving him but you do him a service by being the one who thinks long instead of short. I do adore Peregrine, he is my husband's brother and Hope's uncle. There is part of his mind that is like him, somewhat ageless...then there is part of it that bless him, is more stunted than he'd rather admit. Still, you will go and for it you will remedy your own pain, which he can not cure even if he would have wished it, or you would have wished him to. Jean-Claude will mend a part of your heart that once you've put it together yourself, his find coutier hands can easily take on. Oh, she may have questions as we all do. I didn't know my own father until i was much older, but was not lacking for the love of my mother..she was all things to me. Mother is the name of God on the mouth of a child. Hope would not be deprived of knowledge, but it would have been measured, granted, had not Zahak's emissary taken refuge in Skye, and relayed message of what finally became of him. One day, you will be ready for that. The past has a way of rearing its head but it shows us that to live in the now we must be...as complete as we can. But she will know that father is not justof blood, but of action and substance to measure. She will know where her blood comes from but Talion is her father, deeper than Zahak. I know he loves his daughter, yes, but Talion loves with the fierceness of a man who would not have it taken from him, and the gentleness of a soul who accepts his peace when he earns it. So yes, Ada, I am free. I am the bastard child of a Welsh Prince and a Shepard. I am a princess, and I am Queen two lands, Empress in another, yet ruler of nothing. In all of it.whatever it entails..I am free because of my own action, more so than what action came to me. After the fall of my home on Orkney, and after a time recovering with our Mo'r Oukselo in St. Andrews..I went to walk the continent. I have...fought a war with monks and slept on Avarian shores, in her white castle in her mountains.. I have learned the tongue of Orient mytstics and it is only when I truly took things into my hand and decided to do them..not live in them when given..that I am free. You, too are free. Or you will become freer than you've ever known. Tis only good bye, not forever. I believe you will come back to this island, and you will have your shop. you will have Jean-Claude..You will keep your secrets while denying nothing, and you will be above all else a mother. A sage, and a mother. This is just an unlikely path to it. That's all. Here is some stew.." She ladled up bowls and passed them along (d)

Ada: "Mm." Ada rolled her head, stretching muscles in her neck and shoulders, and gratefully took the stew. She was too polite to refuse it, and too hungry not to go through and pick out all the root vegetables, savoring how soft and flavorful they were while leaving the meat in the bowl untouched. "I always thought I was free. I didn't realize how bound I became to those I loved. I don't mind, being so bound. It gives me definition. Roots, I suppose -- I am not just floating down the stream anymore. I've found a place for myself." She didn't want to abandon that place, but she would, temporarily. She had every good reason to do so, and knew that Jean-Claude would be there when she returned. "I think Peregrine will come for a visit, too. He has questions. And the same dreams. He has seen her." She smiled. "She looks like me. I wish so much that he get to know her, and she him. But I grew up without a father as well, and I did not lack for love." Just authority, apparently, as she was always pushing the patience of her lovers. The thought turned the smile into an outright laugh, and she set the bowl of stew down. "I never imagined I would be a mother to begin with, so it is difficult to say that this is a strange path. I never gave myself the opportunity to get with child. I have been very careful. But this.... Well. I knew about her, and that changed everything." *

Eirian: "As it changes the whole of the world. Eh. We never imagine most of anything." She chortled, "Oh goodness. Isn't that the truth? Some years ago if someone would have said I would have been married to Talion, I would have told them to stay out of the ale barrel!" Yet here she was, and Peregrine, Maahes, and Jean-Claude were amidst the bastian of Hope's beloved 'uncles' who would no doubt be raising swords in retaliation of the girl aging, God help her. She at generously of the vegetables and the meat inside gotten from a successful hunt. "There is tea. There is stew. There is also some sweet buns I've made, and bread. Being an inn keep hasn't worn away, I fear. You may leave here all the fatter, if hopefully enlightened." Small as she was, she had the advantage of some gained figure with age! If one had bounty, one ate of it! "We must also find some way to pass the evening. I don't often have company in this season save for the locality." (d)

Ada: "Mm, sweet buns." Ada got up herself to get them, bringing back a plate. She had a sweet tooth, and adored bread. It was a wonderful combination, these sweet buns. Ada perched herself back in her chair, and laughing, offered to teach Eirian a few tricks at cards. Maybe the lady was a hidden card sharp, but Ada had played with kings and their makers, had a comte who could fleece all of Paris or stab them for attempting the same on him, and certainly knew a thing or two about how to go about not getting stabbed. She produced a deck of cards from her pocket, a similar deck to the one she had given Peregrine, with tarot on one side, and traditional figures and symbols on the other, and began dealing. They chatted the night away, about meatier topics, leaner topics, Eirian going back to tend to Hope and Ada staring out the window, putting things together. She was leaving, she merely had to choose the day and go. Her heart would even recover from this disaster, and she would return stronger than ever, in a role she had never intended on playing. Yet one that seemed, knowing Ada, built just for the sage, who was neither maiden nor mother nor crone, who had much to learn but was an excellent teacher, who loved so many but reserved her very soul for one. *

Eirian: "They are a weakness. That, and apples. Damnable apples.." Did Christians refer to anything as damnable without worry? Eirian apparently didn't, so that she and Ada could eat their fill while diseceting the pulp from the fruit of the world. Ada was positvely delightful to Eirian, at once exotic and plainly practical, unusual and comfortable. To learn a game of cards was something she would have been far too conservative to do in her youth, but even among Christians the sheep can be colored a different coat. Not entirely white, not black, she fell somewhere amidst a light illuminted gray that made her equitable. One time she left to tend to Hope, to sing her to sleep in the languages she would grow to hear. There would be murmurs of Avarian Rangers, the dialects of China, the lyrics of Welsh Gaelic, and the plain goodness of common. It was possible to be all things and nothing at once, wasn't it? Despite the condition of the weather and that amidst all the food they should be fat, happy women with sleeping babes inside them she looked into the little kitchen to invite Ada on an adventure (d)[/color]