#baronyofthesilverwolf

Nadeen was as good as her word, after a private celebration between the two of them of " passion before duty", they showered, rested for a bit, but soon she was doing the paperwork or at least helping Aiden at it. It made things go quickly, while she could not handle the nuances of some breeding forms, she is an apt student. Any paper work of more standard bills or the like she handles smoothly, and confesses she was trained by a very talented Kinian named Sally Mae. Perhaps it's merely cosmetic, perhaps Nadeen has alwaays been mature for her age and only the magic showed her innerself? Yet, she is still prone to sparkling eyes at his light teases, and yes, light pouts when denied the little treats of life from him. Oh, she doesn't push it, she's NOT an immature brat, but it leaks through and it is... delightful.

But for Aiden, it seems as if Nadeen is the winter sun by which he can see again. His memories restored, he finds himself seeing things by eyes fully open. It's not just the slight changes to the hold that is no longer JUST his, nor the pulse of the Oaths taken. It's like he was color blind to emotional memories, and now that the sorrow of blue, and the rose hues of shame were restored, well, they pained for a bit, but they also completed the other colors.

He is allowed to be part of the story again, and not merely the prize of it. It's a daunting and delightful freedom.

And that maybe when he notices the envelope, chimerical, in stylish lettering.

Working through the morning paperwork - mornings are now a delight, rather than just a start to the day's business - but the business does need to be done. He also needs to make time to work with the new terriers today, to speak to Gwen, there was a discussion to be had with Lavender, and...

Aiden picks up the envelope, a change of pace from invoices, statements and reports. Reading the outside..

Gold lettering of chimerical ink on chimerical paper

A smile at that, and he slices it carefully open with a silver letter opener, taking care not to cut any page inside.

Chimerical parchment? mmm of course it would be, and in elegant script When dragons sleep, and Sun yet to rise, Shadows fill the gaps. Rule or don't but where Dreams step back, The Elder Dark creeps Forward. Signed, a Friend of Light

Then the parchment , once read, burns away rapidly! Goblin parchment

He drops it when the paper starts to smoulder, and watches it vanish... then quickly takes the back of a page off the desk and writes down the note. Disturbing, cryptic. He must share this with his lady.

Nadeen looks vexed by the letter she is reading, "Ingratitude, thats' what it is" A sigh and she puts what she's reading away "I sent word to Sir Sergei asking if he knew of a skilled hawker or falconer. His response was that he was hardly cad enough to work against his lady, feathered or not"

"So much for THAT avenue of replacement." She looks over at her paramour, noting his look "everything okay?"

"Did you see..." A nonplussed look at the empty space where a page once was. "There was a letter. No signature or return seal, but some cryptic warning... it vanished on goblin parchment.

He offers her the note where he copied the message.

"It could be read as a threat. A 'friend of the light' could be an enemy of the unseelie - 'Rule or Don't', may be a warning to stand back..."

"Goblin Parchment? Honestly I wish we could limit that to nobles only... makes cantrips almost impossible to use" She looks over it "Well, that's foreboding. Yes, it could be a threat, a warning, or advice.. perhaps all three"

Does the envelope remain, or did that vanish as well?

It seems to have dissolved , a linking magic perhaps? Irksome

"Arg." He frowns. "The next time I receive a cryptic note, remind me to Whisper the envelope first, and damn the cost."

"But how will you know it's cryptic until after you read the cryptic message?"

An amused look. "Oh, the usual. Chimeric handwriting in glowing text, a seal with a cryptic mark, perhaps a skull on the postmark."

"I apologize, Nadeen. You were telling me... yes, the mews. We must attend to the raptors. They are getting anxious and fretted without a dedicated handler. The mortal hawks we can sell, but the fae blooded must have proper care."

"I know too many pirates to find a skull on the post mark overly cryptic" she says deadpan then smiles amused right back, then at his phrasing frowns "I really hate the idea of losing our edge in the birds. I've been helping. " by now her wound is healed "What of the mortal servant Calanthe had helping?"

"Mm. I believe he was bespelled to simply clean without asking undo questions. A helpful sort of servant, but they need stimulus, not simply cleaning and feed, like a caged canary." What was the fellows' name? Did it matter? Julius would have it on the mundane payroll roster somewhere.

"There are other elements of Calanthe's left behind. I... am uncertain, my love. Half of me wishes to box the lot up and let her come seek it from storage when or if, da'an wills her to do so. But a small part still wishes to believe that she really did have Silverwolf at heart, and may yet return to the fold... though I cannot forgive her action against you."

Apparently, his own wronging of years far eclipsed by her one final action against Nadeen.

"I'm rather cross about it myself," Nadeen confides, "While Dancia was driven by wanting to protect the freehold from what she saw in me as a threat as much as dictum, I do not blame her because she was fed misinformation by Calanthe and then ordered. I blame Calanthe, for the attempted murder, for her ripping your memories away and tainting Connor's honor and stealing the joy a father and son might have found, that said, the Dreaming seems to have settled on her punishment and the full breadth of that is unknown. For Marigold's sake though I have tried to be genteel. Oh, that reminds me, Briar is gloating indirectly about it to Blossom. Blossom remembers only the beautiful woman who told her she was special and saved her. Honestly, that little girl thinks the world of Calanthe AND You, but Calanthe seems to be special all the more for her departure." She taps her fingers "We are none of us saints ,saints don't rule well or long. "

A sigh. "I wonder if we do Briar a disservice for keeping her with us. Perhaps she would be better with a corby who can understand her urges and nature, rather than expecting her to conform to more polite societal norms."

"Oh please don't, while Briar is currently angry with me, I am fond. Gwen sees her like a little sister. And... "A bite of her lip "One day, my love, Briar shall be a wilder and a woman, and it would be well for us to have her ready and trained for monster hunting either alone or with a corby it is true. We are not so far from Dark Gate that I do not worry about threats from that area leaking over. I.. understand Briar to some degree. To be held back, to hunger, to have what you want dangled before you and yanked away, then see another quarry or prize and have that yanked away too, and the void in you just.. aching. I am civilized, she's not, but in our way we're both monsters ourselves."

"I would cage the moon herself to see you smile."

A chuckle at that, "What and not the sun? Really, just the moon?" A shake of her head " I don't wish to cage Briar. But I don't want to lose her, for selfish reasons I suppose. Maybe it's time we let her find a few targets. She doees love the butcher lessons. I think that should continue. "

"You must realize..." He checks that the door is closed to any happenstance passersby. "She is not a gentle soul, built to muse and tend a garden of gentle souls to reverie. She may find glamourous revelry in in hunts and in slaughter, but when it comes to mortal dreamers... what interaction she has, has been swift, and brutal. Whether by inattention or an intentional blind eye, she has... set upon poachers, upon hunters without mercy or care, upon those those who would intrude in our woods and destroy or pollute.... been allowed free reign to handle them in her own manner."

"Fledged under Gwydion eyes, you may have a less savory outlook on the nature of ravaging, and it's sometime necessity."

That DOES make her frown, almost recoil dear gods, Mountain frank has had a greater effect on me than I thought

"I had thought the policy here was dreamers were to be cultivated because we are hardly awash in them," Carefully

"Dreamers, yes. But what gentle cultivation would you set to Briar? Were she older, perhaps, and more settled down, she might seek some sort of creation - violence design in film, perhaps an artist who finds inspiration in gore or horror? But she is a child, unrestrained, hungering. Glamour alone we could offer her, but she needs to hunt. Those that she would prey upon are not ones who are known dreamers. Perhaps they could be. It may be that the shock they are given may drive them to different behavioral patterns and even spur creativity on different lines."

"Ravaging, after all, is not rhapsody." This point, he makes clear - that is a solid line that is NOT crossed, even by unseelie.

"Mortals survive, and even thrive afterwards."

"I think this is one area we shall be a bit more divided on, Darling" She is surprised to find it is so "Glamour is free, but one doesn't cut the udder of a cow open to get at the free milk, not if one doesn't want to risk the cow's health past the point of use. That said" A pause "For Briar's sake, we will find outlet's for her nature. As it stands, there is an Autumn person that threatens our own...but I don't think Briar will be able to long resist his cold. Then again..." She ponders "Who knows?"

He welcomes the discourse - there is no displeasure with her differing opinion, at least, not at this point. "I would rather say, it is more tracking down a wild sheep and stealing it's fleece, versus keeping one penned and tidy, fed and cossetted. The wild ewe may be nicked and frightened by the ordeal, but it is set free and will grow fleece anew. It is not slaughtering the beast for a single harvest, wool tainted with blood."

He listens. "We will seek outlets for her, then. But if such cannot not found, I would not deny her otherwise." He adds. "She may be a fierce monster... but those out there in the mortal world with similar tastes who might appeal to her? ...some of their dark tastes run too deep, and I would not endanger her. For all her frightful might, she is yet a child."

"It's a gamble, dear.. like shearing a sheep with an overly sharp knife instead of shears proper. You'll get wool, but if you over due, that sheep is as good as dead to you next time. I just don't see the point of playing roulette with a resource. " A look 'Has Briar been complaining to you?"

He shakes his head. "She's been thrilled with the slaughterhouse, and delighting in revelry there. I did not, however, want there to be any secrets or surprises between us, not when it comes to our people and their welfare." As they discuss, his views become more clear. To muse is ideal, and encouraged, and to be commended. But if in true need, and not simply laziness or a taste for the act, he sides with Fae needs over mortal sensibility.

They are not so far apart, she is less concerned with mortal sensiblity as playing Russian roulette (ironically) with a risk of banality backlashing on the would be ravager, and the Dreamer having broken beyond recovery. Neither LIKELY, but again, one day the bullet will launch, but in cases of emergency? That's another matter. Desperation is a harsh mistress. Then a thought arises, "Oh dear. I had not considered this.. but.. oh you might be offended"

Still, she dares ask "is there a knackers you use for when a horse.. must fall?"

He sighs, and nods. "It is a necessity, and one that I am but glad is seldom required. We are blessed in that our magics grant longevity and health to our animals. But the circle turns, and winter comes for all creatures."

"For the mortal animals? A dignified passing, carried out here. There is no terror-filled truck ride to the glue factory." He says with evident distaste. "Afterwards? Their hides for leather, their flesh becomes sustenance."

"For our fae-touched steeds? The same, but with a palliative touch. They do not serve us for half our lives to be forgotten when they grow gray. There are pastured farms for their twilight years, a graceful retreat as owed their service. And when they fall, it is with respect that their bodies should remain with the dreaming. We do not slaughter horses for fae leather, but neither will we destroy a resource due to sentiment, other than in extreme cases. Should a mount fall in battle? They are given a warrior's funeral."

"Why do you ask, love?"

"Because it seems to me, both creative and destructive outlets might be found by knackering. Glue seems an ugly creation but.. glue made by the dead bodies, might just be of interest to young Briar. "

"I do not like the practice of sending in animals on the hoof to slaughter. To do so for meat is a necessity - or rather, a practice too widespread to have any chance of altering." Indeed, it would take a far larger campaign to try to reform the meatpacking industry... impossible on a wide scale, though perhaps tangle on smaller efforts... but that's a different question, really. Silverwolf does hunt for a good deal of it's meat.

"Horses? They are companions and deserve better. I would not encourage a taste for their final terror in Briar. Now..." Considering this, despite his initial displeasure at the idea. "Processing itself, that is another matter. She already is a deft hand at butchering carcasses from the hunt. Further breaking down the bones... hm. That may appeal."

A nod and, a fond smile. His love of horses is part of who he is Why do I find equestrians so beguiling? And she nods, "I leave it to you love. Horses are much cheerished by you and rightly so, but .. yes, processing of the dead animals bones might delight her.... maybe not horse bones then but you see my point. Mmm " A look at him "Will you ever love me as much as you love horses?"

"Are you jealous when I choose another mount?" He says with a rakish grin and without thinking, and then looks somewhat startled that such a thing escaped him.

"I.. my lady, excuse me." Cheeks pinking that he said such a thing.

Her eyes widen like small full moons of azure twined. Her mouth falls open just a bit

Then she swats him playfully on the shoulder and laughs at the same time, because damn it, that was both Rude and hilarious "You beast.. I shall make you pay for that..." more laughter "As .. as soon as i catch my... breath"

And her shoulders may shudder as she tries to keep it quieter than it wants to come out