A Holiday Tale
A Chronicle for Changeling: The Dreaming
Chapter 1, Turn 13 Summary

The Countess bows her head, considering the giant's words. With her attention distracted, protocol allows those in attendance to speak quietly among themselves.

Muttering so that only those close by can hear, Tess whispers, "The man has courage."

Jubair looks at this strange newcomer with undisguised curiosity. He nods and whispers "Whatever he is, he's got balls."

Tess whispers, "He's a Rock Giant, one of the Nunnehi. They are the original fae inhabitants of the Americas. They used to be very close to the Native Americans. That's about all I know of them myself."

Jubair pauses for a moment, then whispers "Do you think he was referring to us just then?"

Tess nods at Jubair shortly, "Probably. We are the only ones I know of that are searching for an enemy to all Fae. Of course, the Countess might have others, but I doubt it."

Baron Lorewick seems unmoved by the Nunnehi's appearance. His reeve, the old nocker standing beside him, is whispering in his ear. The baron nods, listening. After a few moments, he looks as if he were about to speak, but the glamour of the Countess' cantrip prevents him, since to speak to her while she pondered the giant's words would be rude and out of order.

After a few more moments, the Countess sighed, and looked up. "Lungwam Nutiket, I welcome you to my Court. Henceforth, in honor of your bravery you shall have free reign of all my lands and holdings, so long as your peaceful intentions towards the County of Buckeyes and its Fae hold true."

She addresses the court, "The Brave's words bring me great misgiving. This is our second warning of great danger, the first was brought to us by the good talespinner Jubair the Traveler, whose warning went:

When the Dark comes rising, Four Lights Hold it Back
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, Each shall Dark attack"

And the prophecy brought with it a surety, word of a sidhe chrysalid within my County, and here stands Lady Kelia to show the truth of Jubair's words."

The countess shifts uncomfortably, and she looks very small. Even with the dignity of her protocol, her high seat, her pennon fluttering behind, a boggan has not the majesty of a sidhe lord. No, The Countess does not radiate awe, nor great beauty, nor does she inspire terror. Just much plain common sense.

"Now, a nunnehi brave places a name on this danger, this Dark which comes upon us. Donogaot, a great evil. What are We to do?" She asks.

"Nothing, Your Excellency." Lorewick's voice sounds loud and clear, without the twisting sarcasm he had used before. "There is nothing to do. A sidhe chrysalis? Uncommon, but hardly proof of this prophecies truth. The word of a Nunnehi? Did they not slaughter your own thanes but two months past? Roses shorn at the Roses, I believe the eshu call this ambush in their tales. The words of vagabonds and foes are not to be trusted."

"Then hear the word of a knight of the court," Keighvyn returns. He draws himself up to his full height, seeming to gain presence as he does so. "Jubair has proved to be a brave and honorable companion, and has even shed blood in the name of this quest." He looks to the rest of the group for confirmation, then continues. "And this Nunnehi has done nothing, himself, to warrant that sort of distrust." He takes a deep breath. "And with all due respect, my lords and ladies, you may /think/ this prophecy untrue, but would it be wise to ignore it altogether? It seems to me that our wisest course would be to heed it." He bows to the Countess. "Your Excellency, I am finished."

As the sidhe knight finishes, the Rock Giant, with an angry look on his face, steps forward next to Lorewick and glares down at him. "Who are you, Sidhe, to challenge my word? Who are you, European Barbarian, to ignore a prophecy from the great She-Bear? You call me vagabond, but you have not met my people. You call me foe, but you do not know me. On who's greater wisdom do you see fit to disdain the words of one of our most respected totems? With what experience have you been able to typecast all of my people as foes and vagabonds, beneath you? I came here not to fight a war between our people, but to save them both. I know nothing of your Sidhe Crysalid, nor have I heard of the prophecy delivered to this court, but I have heard enough from you."

Baron Lorewick does not step down as the giant towers over him. Instead, his eyes flash and his presence seems to increase dramatically, so that the giant appears somewhat... diminished. The ends of the Baron's mouth curve slightly upward in what might be called a smile.

Lungwam Nutiket turns away from Lorewick to address the Countess again. "Your Excellency, I was indeed present at the ambush of your men. I did not participate in their tragic deaths, nor did I agree with it at all, but I was present and was unable to stop it. However, I beg you to look past this to the truth of my message, on which all of our lives may depend. Do not allow your judgement to be clouded by this short-sighted fool." He gestures toward Lorewick. "Who cannot look past a conflict of the moment to see that the good of all here can only be served by working together." He then takes a bow in a somewhat clumsy imitation of the Knight who spoke before him. "Excellency, I am finished."

Jubair strides beside both of them and speaks. His anger is very obvious in his body language and especially his eyes, which glare at the Baron. "Mere vagabonds and foes? Is that all non-Sidhe are to you, Baron?" Jubair starts, making the title sound like an insult. "Just tools to be used when it suits you and disowned or debased when they do not suit you narrow world view? Just because we have brought news that is not pleasing to your ears does not give you the right to treat both the news and the messengers with undisguised contempt! You know as well as I do that the words spoken by Lungwam and myself ring true with prophecy, but if someone here has a better idea than either of the ones that have been presented to us in this court, let us hear from them now!" Jubair stops himself and bows to the Countess - and the Countess only. "Your Excellency, I have said what I wished to say," he says, his voice calmer but still carrying traces of anger.

Lungwam Nutiket, his anger at the Baron still evident in his demeanor, nods respectfully to Jubair and murmurs "Thank you." under his breath before turning his attention back to the Countess.

Tethran sighs, and in a calm voice says, "Friends, violence will solve nothing, and neither will arguments." Looking to the Countess, Tethran continues, "Lord Lorewick is true, the chrysalis of a sidhe is not normally anything to send the realm into chaos. However," she says, glancing at the Baron, then back to the Countess, "the fact that Lady Kelia has come amongst us, at a time when prophecy has claimed that a we will be facing danger as well as that a 'Shining One' would be coming, lends credence to the rest of the prophecy."

Motioning to Lorewick, Tess says, "And further, one of those whose people have traditionally been our enemies, has been told by his spirits that all shall soon be set upon, and that he should join with us..." Tess pauses for a moment, "It would seem that we should not discredit these two warnings, without closer examination."

Baron Lorewick waves his hand diffidently, "Whatever you decide in this matter, Your Excellency, will I am quite certain prove correct. The matter is of no great import. Send some idle souls to investigate, keeping the rabble busy, as it were. May we not now return to the matter for which we met? I grow weary, and would take me new ward and depart, with your permission."

The countess leans forward, clearly intending to answer, when suddenly Rajabal, Jubair's magnificent brown and white owl chimera comes swooping in too land on the railing of the balcony directly across from the countess. He gives two very loud hoots and then says:

Orange, White, Yellow, Green; Gold the last seen
Drawn from legends, Dead Eaters dream of Lightening's powers fretfully
Awakened again, the Maker's song sings and Great Dark grows
How all shall end, only One now knows."

Rajabal clacks his beak and bows to the Countess, "Forgive me, your Excellency." he hoots, "But I was instructed to say this prophecy when, ahem, The Tarnished Silver and Giant of Rock stand before the Flower Countess."

The Countess nods, but looks alarmed at this latest prophecy. "We again are grateful, Noble Rajabal."

Hecataeus, the grey-bearded satyrs standing beside the Countess, leans over and speaks to her quietly for a few moments. She then leans back, and announces. "I believe this matter is of far more importance than Baron Lorewick allows. It is, in fact a Quest. Someone must unravel this mystery, get to the heart of it and insure it does not endanger the County, or those of us who dwell here." She smiles, "But Baron Lorewick's suggestion is quite good. Are there any 'idle souls" who wish to accept this quest, this mystery?"

"A wise choice, your Excellency." Baron Lorewick says, his voice becomes amused, "But perhaps it will be hard to find such volunteers? After all, if the words of this nunnehi and eshu are not false, if the chimera speaks true... well then, this could be a very dangerous quest indeed. Perhaps I might have better luck finding someone for you in my demesne?"

At this, Bugge turns to Dr. Rowan, and says, "Is this why you brought me here?"

Dr. Rowan smiles down at the pooka, "I merely thought you would enjoy a night a court."

Tethran glances around for a moment, then steps forward. "Excellency," she says, "Our new friend, Lugwam, has made it clear that he shall be taking up this quest." Her eyes travel over the small group that had gathered to find Kelia, and then return to the Countess. "I believe that my feet have already begun to travel the path set before us as well. Though I shall not speak for the others, we have begun the unraveling of the fates yarn." Taking a step forward, to stand beside the Lugwam, Tethran continues, "I shall not leave this duty unfinished, milady."

Brighteyes nods. "I will take it," she says in a choked voice.

Keighvyn steps up to stand at Tethran's side, his bearing radiating all the courage and honor associated with his knighthood. "Nor shall I, your Excellency. By your leave, I would be honored to accept this quest." He smiles then, looking more like the young man he is. "After all, a knight of the court could do no less."

"Nor a squire." Sylvana steps up and kneels next to Keighvyn. "By your leave, milady, I would aid these warriors in their search." She looks up at the sidhe, then back to the countess, trying desperately to hide her grin. "Besides, your Excellency, Sir Keighvyn needs an attendant..." She looks hopefully at the plump little woman.

Lungwam Nutiket nods to Tethran and states "Your Excellency, I will indeed take up this quest, and as I already swore to do before Ursa Major, so do I swear to you. With the Dreaming as my witness, let my strength leave me, my sight betray me and my totem abandon me before I fail in this quest."

Jubair stands with the others who have thus far sworn to take up this quest. "As the first bearer of the prophecy and companion of Rajabal who has elaborated further, I believe that it would be a denial of my own Kith if I turned back from this path that I have commenced - indeed discovered."

"May I also humbly suggest that our newly Chrysalized lady be part of our quest - after all, she too is linked to this prophecy and it would be foolhardy to ignore her part in this labyrinthine prophecy." Jubair bows to both nobles.

Those standing very close to Kelia might hear an "Eeep!" escape. Expression rigidly controlled, Kelia says nothing, just alternates her gaze between the Countess and the Baron.

The Countess shakes her head at Jubair's words. "Such a quest cannot be imposed upon one who is not willing. Lady Kelia, and indeed any who follow this path, must follow her own heart in this matter, free of any coercion or suggestion from the rest of us."

Jubair bows politely in acceptance of the words of the Countess. "As you will, Your Excellency." He then turns to Kelia. "Lady Kelia, if my suggestion caused you offence or undue concern, I apologize," he says politely, accompanied by a bow.

Kelia takes a small step forward and says, directing her words as much to Lorewick as to the Countess, "So then I am free to make my own decisions, Countess?"

The Countess smiles, "Concerning the quest? Of course. As far as your fosterage and House are concerned, well... I have the duty and right to assign you a mentor, someone to ease your transition back into the Dreaming, but I can't make you listen to that mentor. As for your House... Baron Lorewick, perhaps you should explain it's significance."

The Baron answers, "It is already a part of you. One cannot choose to be an Eiluned any more then you choose to be a sidhe. At least initially. Later, if you are found unworthy, the House might reject you."

"Or you might choose to reject the House." the Countess breaks in smoothly. "Think of the House as an extended family, people whom you may choose to have little to do with though you share a name."

Kelia shifts her gaze between Lorewick and the Countess, paying them each exactly the same degree of polite respect as they speak. When they finish, Kelia asks the Countess, "Who will you assign as my mentor? And will you, Baron, also assign someone to assist me with matters of the House?"

The Countess frowns, "I had hoped to allow your matter to rest for a while, as this prophecy concerns me greatly."

The Baron says firmly, "Your Excellency, I only attended court this eve to settle the matter of a sidhe of House Eiluned, a sidhe who already works for me in her mortal seeming. I care not for this 'prophecy'."

"You attended court because your presence was ordered, Baron." The Countess counters, "Otherwise I am certain you would have summoned Lady Kelia to Chateau D'Lucre and usurped my authority in this matter."

The Baron answers stiffly, "My authority as the senior member of the House seems clear in this matter, Your Excellency. If Lady Kelia is not turned over to me, I shall be forced to bring a complaint on this matter to the Duke. All _true born_ nobles well understand that in matters such as this House interests must reign."

At the Baron's words, Keighvyn sucks in air through clenched teeth, and his eyes turn to chips of blue ice. With a visible effort, he schools his face to a neutral expression.

The Countess' round little face goes hard at the implied insult. She sighs, "Lady Kelia, I commend you to Sir Keighvyn ap Scathach for fosterage. Your period of fosterage shall last three days and three nights, at which time you shall present yourself before a Tribunal of Three for your fior-righ. I, Baron Lorewick, and Sir Gwalchamai ap Scathach shall comprise this tribunal. Upon completion of your Fior-righ, you will be Sained."

Keighvyn's eyes widen at the Countess's pronouncement.

Kelia nods respectfully to the Countess, and then to Lorewick, her expression politely neutral. "Thank you." She takes a step back. Once the conversation focuses elsewhere, her expression becomes one of worry and irritation. "Well," Chris whispers almost inaudibly, "this is sure gonna make status meetings interestin'."

Tethran waits for a moment, her eyes on Kelia sympathetically. As the murmuring settles, Tess steps forward again. "Lady Miriam, though Lady Kelia's status is of course important, now that he fosterage has been established, it would seem wise to return to the more important matter at hand, that of the threat of the two prophecies."

The Baron steps forward, "Then I shall withdraw, as my interest this evening has ended." Without waiting for a reply, the Baron turns and leads his sidhe knights from the room.

Jubair's facial expression becomes a mask of both disdain and contempt, directed at the departing Sidhe.

Lungwam Nutiket spits on the feet of the passing Baron.

Kelia glares at Nutiket, clearly offended by his behavior toward Lorewick. She looks over at Keighvyn and says in an angry whisper, "Even I know that isn't right."

"You're correct, milady," Keighvyn returns in an undertone. "But then, the Native American fae don't exactly adhere to our standards of etiquette," he continues in a mollifying tone.

Kelia replies in a whisper, "Would you be as forgiving if he had so insulted the head of your House?"

"Oh c'mon," Jubair whispers back. "Sidhe like Lorewick deserve everything they get. To be honest, I'm quite impressed with Lungwam."

Tethran hisses at the small gathered group.

Kelia flashes a look of contempt at Jubair and moves slightly to the side, until she is no longer standing near enough to him for whispered conversation.

The baron spins instantly towards the huge giant, his presence growing to fill the room. His hand sweeps in front of him in an imperious gesture and his voice echoes through the hall though he does not raise it. "Kneel, Giant! Kiss the ground at my feet and beg my forgiveness."

The Rock Giant stares defiantly back at the noble, a bead of sweat falling down his face as he mentally struggles with the command.

Finally, Lungwam Nutiket drops slowly to his knees, then bends over and kisses the ground before Lorewick's feet. Still bowed in a position of abject subjugation he begs, "Your Lordship, I beg your forgiveness and pardon for my most inexcusable actions. I humbly beseech you to forgive my indiscretion in my choice of actions."

Lorewick stares imperiously down at the giant for long minutes, forcing him to remain bent while awaiting the Baron's answer. Finally, he says magnanimously "Though I find your presence and manners offensive, you are not to fault for your breeding or lack of manners. Now, you know better. I grant you my pardon."

Lorewick turns, cloak swirling, and strides from the hall. The ancient nocker with him glances down at the Rock Giant, and then follows, smiling briefly at Kelia.

Nutiket rises to his feet and turns to face the Countess as Lorewick departs, making odd faces as he tries to work the taste of those despicable words out of his mouth. He mutters so that only those standing closest can hear him say "I will revenge myself upon him."

Jubair pats the Rock Giants' shoulder. "At least you had the courage to speak your mind," Jubair whispers back.

Lungwam Nutiket whispers back to the man "Thank you, my friend."

Time: 7:25 pm Wednesday, 26 August 1998
Current Weather: Sunny Expected Weather: Sunny

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