#baronyofthesilverwolf

Marigold shoots a glare at the door after the two leave and goes “Hrrmph!” in a way that almost makes the swear jar jingle.

“That one knows exactly what she’s about,” she mutters, smoothing her apron back into place. “Morrowfruit isn’t something you just have on hand, not in a hold like this. Not without arranging for it special.”

She gives Nadeen a matter-of-fact look. “She’s naming it to see how we answer. Either we produce it and prove we can keep pace with whatever circles she’s been running in, or we don’t and she’s got her little measure of us.”

A small sniff. “Not a failure of hospitality, mind. But she’d like it to look like one.”

"I see," She ponders "I wonder how...accurate her taste buds of Marrowfruit is? Were we to feed her a phony, would it work you think? Something Marrowfruit flavored? A bit a fuddle in it too?"

"Or is that an... unethical idea?" Wryly.

“It would depend on how close you can get it,” she says. “If she’s only had it at court, she may be tasting memory and expectation as much as fruit.”

A brief pause as she considers it, then she adds, “But anything obviously off would not pass. Not to someone actively naming it as a standard.”

Thinking, then shaking her head. “And if she is testing us, serving a substitute would answer her question in a way I would not recommend answering. No, I wouldn't recommend it."

“If only there were more than one place to source the dang stuff…” Marigold sighs.

"I don't suppose we have an immature sample? I have Chronos after all and I'm not above using it to age a mushroom."

Marigold shakes her head. “It is only grown by the pomologist at the Hollow Orchard,” she says. “On this side of the Dreaming, they are the only one known to coax it to take root at all, let alone fruit properly.”

“The orchard keeper, I believe his name is Mirek, is of the sluagh kith.” A slight pause, almost apologetically, “So you see, he may not be willing to treat with us directly.”

"Sweet Dreaming," She sighs "Well, If her goal is to try to shame us over a FRUIT, however rare, I am not sure how to counter it except go around asking various holds if it's really THAT common in their larders. Either I've missed a major trend, possible, or she is exagerating, to put it nicely, it's prevalence."

Marigold lets out a small, restrained “hrrm” under her breath, more frustration than disagreement, and folds her hands neatly at her waist.

“If it is a trend,” she says, “it hasn’t made its way here in any practical sense. Asking other holds won’t change that. It would only tell us how often it’s been seen in circulation, not whether we could actually secure it ourselves.”

She glances back to Nadeen. “If you want to know what Lady Seryn is really implying, we should send someone to the Hollow Orchard. Find out whether Morrowfruit can be had there at all, and if so, on what terms. Love, money, or neither.”

“I’ve only heard of it in passing myself. Highly perishable, difficult to source, the sort of thing that shows up at a very particular kind of table when someone wants to make a point of having it.”

"I am not going to risk an encounter with a sluagh , end up in his debt, all for a bit of fruit some Aesin priss insists on," Nadeen says "Marigold, I let them into the hold, I don't want to seek them out." her biases are something the Varich TRIES to keep reasonable but really!

She ponders, "I think maybe it's time to try another tactic. Assumigng this lady IS exagerating, or flat out lying, I wonder how she will react if I lament we could not get our hands on any Marrowfruit and the only provider we could find was a scam artist who had been fooling various holds with cheap fakes of the same product. How some poor people lacking... truly refined taste, might have believed they had it when they had not. Vague enough not to make enemies of those holds who do have it for they would each think it was another hold that fell for it, but enough to plant doubt in Seryn's mind. What do you think?"

A long moment of contemplation.

“I am Steward, not spymaster,” she says at last. “So I’ll be plain about the risk as I see it.”

“It’s generally known, at least in passing, that there’s only one true source for Morrowfruit. If we start suggesting there are imitations in circulation, that sort of talk has a way of circling back to the Orchard itself... and Mirek of the Hollow Orchard is not someone I would suggest slighting by implication.”

Thinking still, “That said, we don’t have to accept her framing. If this is about status, then we can meet it another way.” A faint huff. “Or even outdo it, if we’re ambitious enough. Without needing to lie about it.”

"Perhaps we can one-up them with a NEW trend?"

"It WOULD mean a quest. For yourself, if you choose, or delegated to some of the wilders under your rule.” thoughtfully.

"YOu have my interest? A cullinary trend I take it?" She sees the point about a lie steam rolling.

Marigold nods once, already shifting into practical mode.

“I could do some research and quick consulting,” she says, “we’ve got three days before Lady Seryn moves on, so there’s time to act. If it works, it could reflect well on Silverwolf. Not just meeting the standard she’s trying to set, but setting one of our own.”

Her gaze flicks back to Nadeen, and a small smirk, "And I do not think you would mind much if we, by pure happenstance, managed to displace the market for sluagh-grown fruit."

"Get thee behind me, Devil figure," The Baroness jests, then says "You know I would not be upset in the slightest. This will be on you two Marigold. Others might quest for your ingredients, but it sounds like you will be putting your amazing cullinary skills to their a challenge few others would have a moment to face. I know this is for Silverwolf's glory, but I don't doubt you would a few bragging rights against the likes of Hearth... pardon, Chief Kerri. Craft me a trend and we'll send some of our most promising members to find it. Perhaps Thistle? I swear that girl could attract Chimera in a Wal-Mart"

A wrinkle of her nose, "I don't want to envision what a Walmart Chimera looks like." But she chuckles. "Thistle then, and who to accompany her, my lady? Would you care to go yourself? I do have to recommend my daughter, of course, but that is nepotism." A smile, no shame.

"Or Madern, he has a good taste for both trends and flavors."

A surprised look at the last, "And here I thought you'd banished the lad," A playful tease, then she considers.

"If Art, it would be only for moral support I am afraid, he gets distracted and would eat through a bowl of wood chips while reading and only comment that they seemed "a bit stale". Rolling her eyes.

"Oh that boy," she sighs "A BRILLIANT mind, a dreamer's heart, but if I could just get blinders on him that allowed him to focus." Meaning Art.

"Banish, oh heavens no. But I have encouraged him to spread his wings. A sprout cannot bloom under an oak tree, and I fear I have taught him much but there is little room for two cooks in my kitchen. And as a Piskey, he must travel about, not as much as an Eshu but it will help him grow."

"mmm, I am torn between Your daughter and your former apprentice," Nadeen confesses, "I need Dame Lavender here to distract or ride with as case maybe, as well as Mavis... bless Mavis by the way and Julius who I suspect sent her. Thistle will go... and, Madern I think. If he is gaining skill as an investigator, well, we might need that more. Besides, I may want to sic the dogs on our guest on day four and Gwen would coordinate them well." WRyly.

"Now now," Placating, "Gwen would argue that would not be hospitable. And besides, that Lady might be poisonous to the poor beasts if they bit her."

A harrumph.

A delicate snerk, then she nods "After this incident, however it goes, I am going to have to treat all the non sidhe staff to something grand to commend you all for your class and endurance in the face of such not so well veiled hostility."

Marigold considers for a moment, then nods slowly as she turns practical.

“A few thoughts come to mind,” she says. “Drusilla the dryad may have insight on where to find a rare fruit like this. The DeBukes in Iowa might also know of it, though if it were easily cultivated, they’d likely already be growing it themselves.”

Continuing, thinking aloud more than presenting a list.

“Art could search old tomes and see if there’s any mention of its origin or substitutes. David the Glome might remember older trends if it has appeared before. Gwen could also look for a native equivalent, something local that fills the same role.”

A small pause, then she concludes a bit more firmly. “But I suspect the most direct path is Drusilla. If this is something tied to the Dreaming itself, it may be simpler to ask the Dreaming than to chase it through every court that has ever tasted it.”

Nadeen beams at that, for Varich have ties to Inaminae few do, "Drusilla , of course. I do enjoy visiting her or a visit from her. Do have a jar of jelly beans or some other snack she'd like that she can count?"

"Would you care to visit her yourself? I can rustle up her favorite snack, easily!"

"Yes, I think this calls for a personal touch," She agrees, "I've missed her and hope she is fond of a visit."

"Very well, I will work on that right away! Meanwhile, you can summon your troops for the Quest?"

And she works to do just that.

....

It is a crisp but lovely spring day as Nadeen heads out to visit Dru's grove. Marigold suggested taking her favorite mare for a ride, but Nadeen may have chosen to walk, and enjoy the bright warmth of the sun. The small basket over one arm, or perhaps tucked into a saddlebag, is no imposition, though it is neatly stuffed with a variety of treats to tempt Dru's known love of tasting "meat foods", as she once called mortal fare.

It's May, it's May - and the lusty month is in full force as Nadeen approaches the Kubera's domain - dandelions, trillium, buttercups, snowdrops, violets, may apples, forget-me-nots and more have burst into color and scent. Birds sing and flit through the bright green foliage. Somewhere, a stream babbles.

The stream sometimes babbles with a real voice, but today at least, it's just the soft chuckling of water over rocks. A marble statue, taller than his companion though she is significantly more curvy, not to mention softer, sits in a pose that makes him look more like a Rodin than the Michelangelo he is.

"But I do not quite understand it." David asks, placidly. "Why do you persist in tasting flesh foods when you perceive neither nourishment nor requirement from the consumption thereof?"

"Oh, but the novelty!" Dru beams. "Why, I have tasted centuries of sunshine and rain - but have you ever tried Cookie Crunch?"

He considers. His consideration is longer than the length of most bird songs, and sometimes lasts seasons, but he makes an effort to shorten it for the sake of his companion. "I do, on occasion, enjoy the feel of cold water running over my husk. It is a pleasant sensation."

Dru stretches, arching her back and unfurling her arms. The sun spills down on her form, honey-gold, catching on garb of green leaves and white flowers. "Exactly! And tis spring, a time for new things. I get so dull and sleepy in the winter."

Long consideration, then, "The sun warms my surface, and sometimes, a lizard will sit on the warm stone. It is a goodness to provide this." He ponders, "Do the birds in your tree also give you joy? Even if they consume of the body of the tree?"

"The birds bring me great joy, especially when they find my boughs fit to make their nests and rear their chicks. I can provide, and there is new life. The squirrels carry my acorns, that new trees may grow. The worms turn my fallen leaves into rich soil to house the seedlings."

"New life.

...

...

...

...

Is good." He says.

She beams. "New life is song, and light, and beauty. It is all good things."

David is still for a long moment after her words, the sunlight settling across his marble form.

“Song,” he repeats slowly. “Light. Beauty.”

“The birds return. The seeds are carried. The soil is made ready again.” His gaze considering the ground beneath them. “There is… continuation.”

Another pause, shorter this time.

“I do not feel this joy as you do,” he admits, without regret. “But I observe that what you describe persists. It returns. It increases.”

A faint shift, almost imperceptible, in the set of his shoulders.

“And so I conclude,” he says, “that it is… correct.”

"It's a bit different, I suppose, from stone - but stone changes and persists too. Just on a very different time scale."

"This husk has seen five hundred years, but it was a seed of myself that grew, and a seed yet again past."

David is still, measuring her words against something far older than the garden.

“This form,” he says at last, “has stood… perhaps two hundred years. It was shaped so.”

“Before that, I was not… a figure.”

“I was stone. Uncut. Then cut. Then less. Then more.

I do not grow, but was." Thinking "Refined."

She shivers. "I have known cousins who were cut and shaped. I would not wish to leave my grove, no matter how pleasing the form."

He ponders this. "I was not asked."

Long silence, "But it brought me here. I have found friends here amongst the quick life. They will persist for but a blink of time, but while they are here, I shall cherish them."

"If something is there but for a brief time, it must be savored, yes. Similar joys may come, but it will not be the same. Each one is unique."

“The small hungry one,” he says. “Briar. She sprayed upon me with red coloration.”

A pause, as he turns the idea over with careful neutrality.

“It was a new experience. I am not certain if it was pleasant. It was… loud in a way that was not sound.”

Another slow consideration. “She expected me to respond.”

His attention shifts slightly, like sunlight changing angle across marble. “I did not.”

“She became… frustrated. Then she stopped.” A longer pause this time.

“She does not repeat it.” He tilts his head a fraction, as if this is the most important conclusion.

“So I believe it was understood.”