#anywhere

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In the kitchen, Brogan works up a storm , embarrassed still

And Piper almost bustles right into him, before backing away. Her rump hits the door, but she's not tempted to go back out there. At least this one is a LITTLE Sidhe. "Fuck- Sorry. Fudge. Fiddlesticks." And she paces to the other side of the cookery domain. "Flippity do. Faaaantastic."

"Is everything all right?" Squire Brogan says. Handsome, he will be, but ..thank goodness not a wilder..yet.

"It's great - fantastic - never been better." She tries to still, but her hooves beat a nervous rhythm on the floor and she paces again. "It's... Bodie, right?"

"Squire Brogan" He says "House Daireann, and despite your kith's history and my House, you needn't fidget. I would never harm a friend of the lodge or treat a guest shabiliy. I have hospitality and honor you know?"

That sets her back a moment, looking puzzled. "My what now?" And she gives him a wan smile, trying to be reassuring. "Sorry, I'm just antsy I guess. Is there something to drink?"

"Sure, we have Teas, Coffee, Sodas, water, and juice" he starts to get her a glass

For a moment her expression seems to indicate she'd long for something stronger - but surely not, she's still a wilder after all. And she takes a glass of juice, giving it a gulp, more as distraction than anything else.

"And a satyress temptress once gave a Dairann trouble. Let's leave it at that."

"Well, I promise not to temptress you. No offense, I'm sure you'll be stunning when you're a bit taller."

A groan "Oh I'm not looking forward to that" Then a pause 'No offense, it's just... wilders seem rather brainless when it comes to hormones"

That gets a laugh out of her. And she refills the glass, sipping this time. A glance at the door. "How long has Sir Caraway been here, do you know? I mean, you're Squire to the Hearth, and nothing gets past her, so you probably know everyone that comes and goes."

"Alas, I was...temproarily undone for a few days thanks to an Autumn person who has sense been dealt with" he admits, "Rescued and revived by a Liam. It's mortifiying..though I'll ask you not to tell Sir Frank that"

"Oh!" She steps over and pressed a hand lightly on his forehead, forgetting for a moment that he's sidhe, it seems. "You're okay now, though?" Kenning his glamour.

He's weak, but active. Might use a night by the bale

"And he's been here for.. at least 3 days from what he said. Probably five."

"And I'll be Fine. Daireann is not easily overcome." A nod "Also, a Hearth's got to work, so house or apprenticeship, I won't yield. It's too embarrassing."

"Especially not a Daireann in a lodge full of dutiful trolls. It's a lot to live up to, I'm sure. I have a bit to spare, if you'd like. I really don't mind, and keep you upright. No obligation."

Indeed, Piper seems flush with plenty of glamour at the moment.

he gets himself a cup of juice, and holds it out for her to infuse "Just a drop, please"

She can't help herself, though, and she leans in to brush a kiss across his forehead, passing on a touch of glamour that feels of sprightly music and schoolgirl's hopes and dreams. And this is what the Chieftain steps in on.

Brekke steps in through the kitchen door and regards the two of them...but especially Piper.

"Ack, why'd you have to do it that way I..." Blush "Chieftain"

And she straightens up in a flash and shoots a look over to the Chief, wide eyed. "Ah. Hi. Just getting some juice."

The eyebrow is mighty.

"She gave me a bit of glamour to help with ... my recovery" The Squire says

She gropes to find her glass and chugs mightily.

"Squire Brogan, please bring some refreshments out for Sir Carawyn."

"Of course, Chieftain." He does not argue and does so immediately. A small platter of rice krispie treats

and out he goes

Brekke seems quite comfortable with the notion that duty will help Brogan with his recovery, as well.

She watches him go, then glances back to Brekke. A cough, setting aside her glass. "I'm just stepping in it with both hooves today, ain't I?"

"Piper." Brekke regards the girl. "Explain the outburst in there." She doesn't seem particularly concerned about what she walked in on. And there's not much doubt that she's listening with the Gwydion Boon fully active.

She fidgets a bit, twisting the glass between her hands. A moment goes by, and with it flees the faint hope that maybe some urgent matter comes up and pulls the Chieftain away. Can't there be another dragon, or something?

"I... made an assumption. I owe Sir Caraway an apology." She says, though reluctance is clear that she'd rather be most anywhere than out there. "I thought... maybe the Count had... that someone... I don't know."

She shoots a glance at the mirror-winged butterfly chimera that hovers nearby - her gaze... maybe not murderous, but definitely unkind.

An eyebrow. "You do know. Why would Count Jude be interested in sending someone to fetch you back? Or, why would you be concerned that he had?"

"I haven't done anything." She insists again, but - anything is a big category. "Haven't I been good? I haven't hardly even gone NEAR a dreamer, let along worked any magic on them. (ping) And the bomb - that was Zane's work, and not on mortals - and they deserved it... But I'm not going back there. They can tie me to a rock and toss me in the ocean before they take me back to the mirrors." This last, defiant and true as well.

"All Liam are close. I just thought that if he was suddenly here..." A shrug. "I got nervous." Not really wanting to meet her gaze. "I don't much care for sidhe."

The mirror butterfly flutters, and might seem a bit larger ...at least to the satyr's eyes.

"I do not mean what you have done here. What happened there?"

And she gives Brekke a sudden wide eyed look. "You don't KNOW? I thought they told you."

"Wait...the mirrors. Ardent Harbor's mirrors?" She is searching her memory.

A mute nod.

"There was a letter, to Sir Franklyn. It wasn't - I didn't read it. I assumed it said... everything."

"What I was told was vague, at best. But now I want details, as you know them."

"Now?" She squeaks in protest - but the Chief's gaze is unrelenting.

"It wasn't ever my idea. It was Rander, and Tris. They were my trag'. We had a band, kinda - Krampus, just local, not like even on the radio.

We weren't BIG or anything, we'd play at this warehouse outside of town - killer parties, the kind that you gotta KNOW someone to get an invite to, 'cuz if the wrong person found out they'd shut you down and we'd have to move. Get everyone going, dancing, maybe moshing hard core if that was the feel of the crowd, and then it was just... you know, when the heat gets high and the energy flows and you can just reach out... just reach out and take it?"

Defensive, "Rander always said they'd be back to normal in a day or so, and we did see them again, you know, at the next show. I mean, not everyone, but no one goes to every party... and there are always more dreamers, said Tris." Her tone is guilty as well as defensive - she clearly knows that even if that may fly amongst unseelie, it is not the mindset here. "And I KNOW better. I do - just, that's how it FELT, back then..."

And she continues, before she can be interrupted, letting it out in a rush.

"And Tris is the one who ruined everything - I caught her... she was taking guys out back... I mean, I THOUGHT they were just fooling around, but she was just - ripping them dry, like... like a succubus, or a demon, and then dumping them, and they were just.... EMPTY. Rander told me to mind my own business, but it was..." She shudders here. "...just.. WRONG. And I WENT to the Count. I told him everything. And they... Tris, and Rander? They're STILL in his mirrors."

Brekke's expression might as well be made of stone as she listens, revealing nothing of her thoughts.

Arms wrapped around her sides, and staring at the floor.