#baronyofthesilverwolf

"That's... no. I... no. But he does. He sees beauty in lots of things. In books, and Fornax, in the stars. I love how he looks at the world."

Bluebell tilts her head, her long ears twitching with curiosity. "Ah, so he looks at the world, and you wish for him to look at you the same way? Or..." a rare note of sincerity, "Is it that he already does, and you fear you won’t see it for yourself?"

She hops closer, folding her hands in front of her, her gaze lifting just enough to meet Thistle's. "Tell me, dear Thistle—what is it you truly see when you look at him? The beauty of his face, or the beauty of his heart?"

Her nose twitches cutely.

"I don't care what he looks like. Not really."

"He'd still be beautiful if I were blind, I think."

Baroness Nadeen comes from upstairs. Expecting a standard relaxed day.

Strange sidhe alert!

Rainbow hair, rainbow voile.

Bluebell is hovering and conversing with her animatedly.

Bluebell gasps, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, well, if that's what you really want, I suppose I could arrange it for you!" She pats her pocket theatrically. "I’ve a nice sharp needle—quick, clean, and terribly dramatic! Art would be beside himself with guilt, and I’d wager he’d recite poetry to you for the rest of your days."

Nadeen ponders executing people who don't alert her of new shining hosts, well, not executing. But a list would be involved. She regrets now her less than stellar selection of dress. It's comfy and warm, though on her it still looks like midnight spun into velvet, "Welcome to Sivlerwolf. I am Baroness Nadeen Dancingsnow, to who do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"Bluebell."

"OH! Baroness!" She drops into an elegant curtsey. "It's Thistle, if transformed. A rather unexpected situation involving a cookie?"

Bluebell straightens slightly at the Baroness's arrival. She offers a curtsey, her ears twitching with uncontainable amusement. "Ah, Baroness Nadeen! Lovely as ever. Always a delight to see you gracing us mere common folk." A pause, and she pouts, "Oh, it's just me now, alas."

Then, with a sly glance toward Thistle, she adds, "Just chatting about love, beauty, and art. Isn't the tree lovely?"

Oh, she can still blush up a storm.

Nadeen's eyes widen "Cookies? There are magical .. kith changing cookies? Oh.. my. You look lovely Thistle, but of course that now is a given. Are you all right?"

"She fell and bruised her lips on a painting. It was very tragic."

"I... well, I seem to have lost track of the Squire. We were going to examine the last, and see if this is.. ah.. permanent."

"There might be some chaos, otherwise."

"FORTUNATELY, it is short lived. The magic can vary, at least the batch I partook of, I've never seen it last more than twenty four hours. It is the work of a great namer called the Baker, a primordial creature from the Dreaming."

"And .. see none left. Thank the Dreaming, even in the short term they can lead to chaos, yes."

A soft sigh of relief. "Well then."

"Bluebell, don't taunt the new sidhe too much, and as the only peasant currently present, your efforts at being properly subjugated are appreciated, if a touch theatrical" She smiles at her bunny friend

Bluebell clutches her chest in mock despair, her ears drooping dramatically. "Baroness, you wound me! Proper subjugation, you say? As if I could ever fail to rise—or perhaps lower—to the occasion!" She flashes a mischievous grin at Thistle, then performs an exaggerated bow so deep it nearly brushes the floor, an easy feet for the ballet dancer, but it still looks impresive.

"See? Subjugation. Perfected."

Straightening, she winks. "But I’ll try to keep my taunts to a minimum. Only the gentlest nibbles for our new Sidhe, as if I were to eat her all up, then others would starve."

"I do not believe that the ears came with a title, Bluebell."

"They do not," Nadeen masks her amusement at the Pooka's antics, "Squires stay squires, Kings stay Kings, and You remain Chief Innovator and head Never Wrangler"

"Baroness, may I inquire further about the cookies? Have you encountered them before?"

"Even the simplest of Sidhe are still Nobility, and our sovereign rulers." She says, "It is KNOWN."

"Cookies are Marigold's forte, silly." Bluebell offers, unhelpfully.

"You said you partook?"

"Oh, Marigold makes excellent cookies. Do you know how difficult it is to wrangle the Neverlanders away from them?"

"Did the nevers eat some?" Alarmed

"Citrine ate three."

"And yes, I encountered them and.. partook. " A gog "THREE? They're not supposed to work on Chimera but.. three would do it"

"I do believe growing granted her at least a dozen brain cells."

"Oh dear, shades of ALgernon, still, what DID she become?" Curious

"Also a sidhe, still winged. Still clockwork. I thought she was a Dougal, at first."

Marigold pops her head in, "Lady Citrina ate an entire pound cake and passed out by the oven. I am making an exception on my No Nevers rule to allow her in the kitchen, but still, you are responsible for her." She starts to say, then notices nOW that Thistle is also a Sidhe

"Er, my lady." She ends, quickly, giving a bob of a curtsy.

"A.. sidhe? Citrine is a sidhe?" Nadeen looks mildly offended "So much for an exclusive club." She looks at Marigold "Marigold, are you adapting well to this chaos?"

Marigold tosses her hands in the air. "Above my pay grade, Lady Nadeen!"

"Sorry, Marigold. I can try to get her into a bed?"

"Well, we're out of cookies so hopefully the surprises will be over in a few hours"

"Oh, let her rest. She had a BIG day."

A laugh. "That she did."

"I'm going to go back upstairs. THese things give me stress" She exagerates

Marigold chuckles. "Your calming tea, coming right up. The one with Chamomile you like." And she disappears.

"I don't know, this has been... good, so far."

Nadeen nods "Oh, it can have some, very pleasant memories" She stops "Treasure the insight, Thistle. You now know what it is to be sure, and yet feel a strange obligation to give of that confidence to others. Tyrant or Benevolent Guide, leadership is in your veins now."

"Thank you, Baroness."

"You're welcome, Chief Innovator" She stops and waits for Marigold to bring that tea. Thistle can tell why. One does not humiliate or pain a loyal subject by makin them climb stairs with a bad hip

It does not, of course, take long!

She takes it, "Thank you so much, Marigold." A sip "PErfect as always" A nod "Good eve all." And she heads up