#baronyofthesilverwolf

"It was Dame Calanthe who thought of that. To be fair" She says.

But her face is troubled

"Mm." The sound is non-committal. Curious? Accepting? Or just tasting the soup. She stirs a few times before setting the lid back on top.

"Gwen, dear... sidhe are complex. There's a saying about the burden of rulership laying heavy... well, that may just be pish and tosh. But there's more to most folk than their outer layers. I've known the Dame since she was a childling - for all that she's always tried to act the grown up. ...I'd like to say not to be too quick to judge, but there's always something to be said for first impressions?" The lid is placed back on the pot.

"Mayhaps this old biddy shouldn't gossip so much, but without much fresh life coming through here, I do get bored. Are you off to run by the stables, then? I can put together a lunch for the boys."

"Be happy to go there" She says then says "I'm.. curious, Calanthe's sister, how'd.. how'd she die?"

Marigold's eyes crinkle up, and she looks distant for a moment. "I'd expected you to ask. I'm glad that it came to me rather than the Baron, s'truth." And she wipes her hands on her apron. "I'd better pour a cup of tea. Or coffee, or is it cocoa already?" A few moments of distraction as she gets whatever drink Gwen requests, taking the brief moments of bustle to compose herself.

"Dolly - Dahlia... she wasn't fae, you know. A blessing a'sorts, and a sadness. I was their nanny, you know, before the girls came of age. And there's always the question of whether fae blooded will breed true for common folk, or if souls will find their way to them for Arcadian sidhe. It's a gamble - some show evidence that children of Kithain are more attractive for Sidhe souls, others contend that it's a role of the dice in any case. But, for whatever reason, da'an brought Calanthe onto the girl known as Candance, but Dahlia remained Dahlia."

"Never said no to coco" And they sit, and she listens "And Dahlia didn't.. resent that?" the way sidhe do it still seems spooky

She sips her tea, sweetening with honey. "If it had been the other way around, it might have caused a good deal of bitterness. Candace was a bit older, and I think Dolly always idolized her sister a bit - oh, it was sad that she couldn't do the same things, but she was glad to be included such that she was. She was enthralled, a fairy princess for a friend? Now that's almost as wonderful as being one herself! And, she stayed herself, sweet thing. Calanthe made a bit of a pet of her kinain sister, and it... well, it worked, relationship wise. They never really fought over anything until they started dating." A soft chuckle here. "Oh, don't remind Calanthe of that, mind you. I think she'll ever be bitter on losing that battle. "

"Because Dahlia is the one who won the Baron's heart" She's a young teenage girl, and despite her attempts to be .. yknow, cool, a part of her sighs at the idea of true love, a fairy tale romance for real.

A smile and nod, also sighing a bit. "Their courtship was one for the story books - even to rival some Fiona, I'd argue. Bless, to be that young again!"

"It has it's moments" Troll humor?

Rewarded by a chuckle, and a plate of cookies added to the table. "But, bless my heart, the very things that drew him to her were what caused such pain. He loved her dearly, mortal and all - perhaps it was even her mortal qualities, her earthiness, her grounding in reality and sweet nature that drew him to her. She took joy in the simplest things, a blossoming daisy held as much delight to her as a chimerical rainbow-bloom that could sing arias to the moonlight. Had she not been kinain, and his lady, she'd have been a dreamer to be treasured, I believe."

"She sounds wonderful.. but.." she takes the cookie "How did he lose her? I mean... I see the works"

Her lips press a bit tighter, and she pauses, spreading out her skirts as though to straighten a wrinkle that isn't there. "It is not a tale that is often shared." She cautions. "I suppose it is right that you learn it, as a member of the hold, but..." She sighs. "Mortals records would show...mm... scarcely the whole of the matter. Do you know what it means to be dreamstruck?"

"It's like Bedlam for us.. only with mortals...they.. they go into a coma thing?"

"She was lost to us. Trapped in her own dreams, until she wasted away. It is one of the most tragic - when a fae truly loves a mortal, they can either draw them close, or draw away from them, and risk losing them one way or another."

"She..died dreamstruck?" Horrified

"You see why it is not a tale we enjoy sharing. It is... tragic, and remorseful. A shameful thing to admit for any one. It can be seen as a dereliction to the duty we owe to our dreamers and kin alike, for all that it was not intentional, that just makes it more tragic that the signs were overlooked, that if action had been taken earlier, stronger, faster, she may have yet been saved.

"I'm so sorry" She sighs "I mean, for everyone. Yeah, shit is.. i mean.." Correcting "Bad stuff hits some of the best people"

"Tis true." She says, sorrow tinging her voice. "And for the lad as well. It truly wasn't his fault, but... the time to try to mend that is long since come and gone."

"The lad?" A pause "What lad?"

"Oh, dear." She purses her lips. Plainly she doesn't wish to speak on this, but also quite plainly, this lovely older lady is fair desperate for someone to chatter to other than the butter crocks and rolling pins. With mixed reluctance, she allows, "The Lord's son, estranged, and a tragedy all it's own."

Gwen looks about "What happened to his son I mean.. his son did something to his mother?"

"Certainly not!" Is her gut reaction, though a touch of guilt colors her expression. "That is, he was an innocent lad and did nothing intentionally. But... Gwen, herein you look to delve into the past where it may be better to leave things unstirred, dear girl. The Lord Baron - our Lord - is Ailil. What choices he has made, for good or ill, stand, and the Dragons do not take kindly to their decisions or judegment being questioned. I would not put you in a place to deal with such potential fallout."

"You're trying to protect a troll?" A brow "isn't taht .. like MY kith's position?"

Expression serious. "Is it protecting you to warn you that underneath a friendly looking gentlefae, a dragon lurks, and which spots when poked prompt fire and claw? If so, yes, I'm a mama bear and you're one of my flock. Oh, I think I've mixed too many metaphors." A little flustered. "Wee Connor is touched too strongly by the dreaming, so that even mortals can view him as one of us. Can you imagine how that would affect a mortal mother?"

"Oh.." her eyes widen "She tried to protect him by keeping him in the hold so she never went out herself? Oh no"

"And she would not have him taken from her - or her from him, to protect her, and let her live alone as a mortal - oh, how they fought. She'd have nothing of it." Marigold's eyes are teary now.

Gwen can't help it, she moves to hug the boggan "It's not your fault. You can't make folks do... just trust me, some folks don't always know when to stop"

She gives Gwen a fierce hug. "Bless me, don't I know it. I worried so about the boy, but he's in good hands now. Trollish folk over in Bergen are raising him, and from what I can gather, he's thriving." Wiping her eyes. "But, bless him, that boy - sorry, that MAN - I speak of the elder Lowell now, though he's still betimes just a lad to me - he never moved on. There's a wound there that never healed, and it's best not to try - tis only sand in it to bring up such now, and I wouldn't hurt him more than he's put himself through."

"I understand. Know about it, but don't poke at it.. raw and dhurting and..well, like you said, Ailil have pride" She looks glum "I wish I COULD Do more"

A pat on the arm. "You have a good heart, and you've brought a touch of life. Maybe that helps more than anyone can say. Now, here, I'll put together some sandwiches, mmm, and cocoa. Oh - and please mention to Donal that if he's thirsty for more, he can visit the cabinet after he's seen to the handle of my favorite pan."

"AFTER the handle, got it" Amused "So that's how you manage us" It's easier to deal with the blush she feels trying to rise at the praise by teasing lightly in turn

"Oh, yes. You didn't hear it from ME, but Donal, sweet fellow though he is, if I were 20 years younger... oh, heavens - anyways, he's a fine hand at fixing things until he gets a drink in him, and then he's good for nothing but the maudlin - which can be it's own entertainment, he plays a good sad tune - but last time we broke into the schnapps too early, he passed out and left me with a window latch unrepaired, and that in the midst of a week of rain."

"Ohooo ...you cougar you" Gwen can't help smile then she winces at the window latch and rain "Yup. He brought it on himself. I'll go deliver this all and the message right away"

Gwen finds a box outside her door with the pieces of the vase carefully set within, ready for a reassembly attempt.

She gathers that too, and takes it to Donel.

Beautiful She thinks, then smiles at the wagon and approaches closer

"Donal?" She calls out

As she approaches, she hears singing - lovely, if a bit muffled, and there are a set of legs sticking out from underneath one of the axles.

"A whistling gypsy came over the hill, down through the valley so shady
He whistled and he sang 'til the green woods rang, and he won the heart of a lady

She left her father's castle fine, she left her handsome young lover
She left her servants and her estate, to follow the gypsy roooo-oooover...."

And a hand comes reaching out and grasping for... something out of reach, though there is a toolbox juuuuust a hands-span out of reach.

She sets things she's carrying gently down so she can get the toolbox and hand it to him. "Nice voice"

He rolls himself back from under there and a pair of bright blue eyes wink up at her from within a round face framed with hair once red but largely speckled now with grey for a salt-and-paprika look. "Well, 'allo here, lassy. Mind handing a gent the 3/8th's spanner, there's a lass?"

"This one?" She's says after gauging it

and hands it over "Sure. I'm Gwen by the way"

"Aye, lovely it is!" Does he mean the name, or the wrench? Either way, his eyes twinkle as he dips back under the wagon, and calls out, "And you can join in the refrain,

"Ah di doo ah di doo dah day,
Ah di doo ah de da-a-why!

He whistled and he sang,
Till the green woods rang,
And he won the heart of a lady!"

Cranking away - with the occasional curse that likely was NOT in the original song accompanied by a crack or metallic crank - until at the end of the song he pulls out to display to her proudly his prize, an extremely stripped and dented bolt, finally pulled free. "There's the little bugger, you see." Nodding at it.

She doesn't join in, a blush at the notion, but she might hum? Then looking at the bolt "I do see it. Ah, if you're Donal" She gets the items she sat down and lifts them "Here are some sandwiches, and cocoa.  Oh - and Marigold says if you're thirsty for more, you can visit the cabinet after you've seen to the handle of her favorite pan." Trying to get the inflection right

"Oh, you came along from dear Mari, did ye?" He beams at her as he accepts the treats, his accent making the name sound rather like 'Merry'. "Now THAT'S a woman, and no mistake. Oh, she still sore over that window, eh?" A wince, but the smile doesn't leave his face. "Fair enough, it is, but see if I didn't bring her a bit o' pretty to catch the sun now's that I'm back in town. I'll show you the lot of them, most darlin' suncatchers to be found, if you're in the market?"

Reaching up he pulls on a lever, and the side door of the wagon unfolds to show a display table, and indeed there is a selection of glass and polished metal suncatchers carefully pinned to the wood to prevent rattling.

A rather eclectic collection - here's a flower, several birds, a sun with cupped hands, a moon on this one - oddly enough! A bumble bee, some abstract colorful designs - is that a piece of pizza?

She snerks at the pizza design, her eyes fall on the sun with cupped hands "oh wow..." Then a glance to the bumble bee "These are all amazing work"

"Aye, that they are. Not my hands though, before you praise too highly. But I DO happen to be the lucky man who came across the artist, she's sweet as can be but finds that no one comes out to her shop these days with the plague ailin' her town. And too set in her ways to learn how to Shopsky or however you kids sell on the computer, so I was pleased as punch to buy out her whole collection and see if I can't make some sales. They don't take up so much room, and the more interesting ones, you can feel a touch of her dreamin' innem, see if you can't. So don't anyone ever tell you that only the wee ones have dreams." A wink up at her, even promped up on a step, the man is quite a bit below average height, but it doesn't seem to bother him.