#a_room_at_firnost

"Will it create...ah, ill will?"

It might, later. He must say Panther.

"And under what circumstance, should this be use'd? I know the gentleman shall query me closely. I could send him to thee, of course, but for, ah." (He turns it slowly in his hand, examining it) "Thy....schedule." (If it is entirely chimerical, he cannot see it, but is feeling it with forefingers and thumbs)

(He pronounces it, of course.....sked-jul)

(He glances at Kel before opening, to be sure he is permitted to, then closes it with a questioning look up)

"And what is the cost?"

The cost shall be determinant upon success. He blinks. It should be used, if Panther is thinking more of himself than of others.

"So likely, it shall be use'd at the outset?" (vague irony)

"I shall offer this as an option, to the gentleman....and does he accept. He shall accept the obligation of repayment. Is that acceptable?"

(A pause) "One-time-use only, aye?"

Oh no. This payment, as this favour. Is from you, Jeremy. Not from him. He shakes his head. One time use. It shall break after that.

(A ghost of a smile) "Very well. The reason methought it should come from him.....is because such a thought, in his mind....would act as a brake, upon reckless usage. The thought of serving a Noble....in any capacity....would irritate, and rankle, rather like a stone in a shoe. But as thou say'st."

I thought that much, he says idly. I have not told Panther. Who he is.

"I shall say nae more of his thoughts, upon the matter. Albeit he hath made nae secret of it, to any, methinks." (A sigh, setting it aside. A pause, in the act of reaching for his cup. His brown eyes shift to study the sidhe's face -- chimerically blind, Kel is perfectly ordinary, if handsome. Studying his expression) "And who is he, then....save a kithmate?"

(He is unable to hide the vague apprehension in those mud-coloured eyes, half hidden behind too-long black hair. Hemp and long hair, vegan. Yup. Jeremy is a hippie)

(Chimerically -- in Fae Seeming -- his expression is far harder to read; sealed dark eyelids, revealing nothing of his thoughts)

We should get you back to the hold. Before the vicodin wears off and you panic, he murmurs.

"How didst thou know, Vicodin?" (A murmur, and long breath out. His fingers reach up, brush back his hair) "I am watch'ed so oft....I have consider'ed taking to showering, fully clad." (Oddly, there is no resentment or anger in this, merely resignation)

"I trust in thy discretion, aught o'erheard. Of course."

"Thou may'st take both pastries. I am not hunger'ed, sooth, and they did not have aught vegan." (He takes a final sip of his tea, setting the cup down, and picking up the box to tuck into his kangaroo hoodie pocket)

I keep an eye on those whom I picture to be friends. T'is easy, when one sluagh has a mass of chimera which one can hide something among. And the other, blind to chimera. He blinks. A favor. I shall let you know. Once it is done.

"Very well. What is one more obligation, amongst many? I have so many, snaring me within their webs....methinks betimes, it is all that remains, holding me up." (Unsmiling, seeming quite serious) "Aye. I took twa, for the meeting, space'd out o'er three hours, but I confess to....ah. Discomfort." (A polite term) "With being public. Forgive, and I thank thee, thy forbearance." (He takes hold of the table, to help himself up from the chair, moving slowly, like an old man might)

Kel does indeed offer a hand, rather genteel. Do come. You shall be fine.

((UGH. Sorry.))

(He declines the hand with a murmur of thanks, getting to his feet. He is determined to display some dignity, at least. And he starts for the door, although he does pause to glance out the windows, vague and unfocused anxiety that someone may be outside watching in at them. But another breath in, and he reaches for the door, pushing it open to hold it, this time)

AS I said. When I am about, they shall not approach. I am not one to be trifled with, should one know me.

"Not all do, Sir." (He lets the door close after them, and shoves his hands into the kangaroo pocket to keep them warm, glancing behind them, and up to the windows, as he goes) "I will ask again, howe'er. Who is he?"

Truly, are you going to push this and make me say it aloud? They shall stay away, but I cannot promise they are not watching.

(A sharp breath in, and says nothing further, the remainder of the walk back)

But I can say he is one of at least... three? Or is it two? His eyes flick back to Jeremy. I cannot find them all, I do believe.

"Twa." (After a long pause) "The other is sidhe. Eiluned, I believe." (After another pause) "In England. I would be surprise'd, an' she could be found."

"At least I believe her entirely safe."

Ahh. See. There was a sluagh I saw once. Upon my travels in London. He lowers his voice. It seems he too is aware they could have been followed. I thought perhaps... but never mind.

"Unless her Lady Mother did lie, which I warrant is possible." (Not looking up, watching his feet, and trusting the sidhe to keep watch while he concentrates on a quicker stride) "We did not part, upon...the most amiable, of conditions." (A hesitation) "She said she was like to her mother, which I took to mean....ah."

"Her Lady Mother was a sidhe of our House. I warrant, thou art aware."

"And it is....possible, there were others." (reluctantly) "That I knew not, of." (After a moment, answering Kel's mention of a sluagh in London, bearing a resemblance)

Yes. He breathes deeply, with a small nod. Do not lose that box. It cost me a pretty penny.

"I shall not. And I shall impress its value, upon him, when I speak to him again."

I pray this is such. He stops at the front door of the 'hold. You can make your way from here?

"Aye, Sir. Thank thee again, for thy time." (He glances up, finally, then drops into a slow, albeit less than graceful bow before easing up again) "Thou know'st how to reach me, an' there is need."

(He turns, to make his slow path back into the 'Hold)

(Endscene)

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Some time later, early afternoon, there is a gentle tap on Jeremy's door.

(A whisper, audible to sluagh, perhaps) "Aye?"

"Sir? It's Zara... and Ice. May we come in?"

"Aye, Lady. Please do."

(Ice is hanging back, looking down the hall and scowling. Glad, maybe, that 'Dria isn't in her room)

Zara enters, nervously twisting her fingers together. "Pardon, sir. We came... pardon. We came to seek... not, not permission, no... we must go, but.. ah - blessing?"