#baronyofthesilverwolf

A moment to compose herself, and Lady Seryn finishes the dish, though she in uncharacteristically quiet, thoughtful perhaps, in doing so.

And soon, she has excused herself and Nadeen is alone with her staff.

Nadeen has finished, the food was amazing, and .. a once in a life time experience, the triumph was heady, then she looks to Thistle, Art, Marigold, Madern, Julius and others... "I may regret that last speech to her if she does not truly abide by the words she gave. Still, I think she HAS learned a lesson, and in the end it was not my words that taught it to her but your deeds. Relax, talk freely, court and dinner are no longer in session."

"We... uh... My Lady, we brought something else back?"

"Something, else?" She wipes her fingers more out of courtesy than need and she rises.

"Someone else."

Nadeen nods serenely, poised, confident... outwardly. Inwardly What is it with Art and Thistle that this sort of thing keeps happening to them? Instead, she says gently, "Some one. A new Chimera? I know they follow you, Thistle."

"Chimera are always around, aren't they?" A slightly puzzled look. "No. Um. Parts are weirdly fuzzy, which I know is the Dreaming being the Dreaming. But we kinda... we kinda brought home a true sidhe?"

"In a jar."

Madern mutters "Urn I think, we had a spare."

Nadeen looks at Thistle, Art, and Madern, "KINDA brought home a true sidhe? What, did my fellow shining host just... trip and land in the urn jar whatever?"

"No! But it was the safest... I... I made it safer?"

"She was dying there."

She squints, scrabbling at memories. "That place, the grove. It was static. Frozen in a moment."

Madern nods his own memory sparked by Thistle's points, "I remember that much too, she was forgetting? always forgetting, a bit more each time?"

Art nods. "It was sad, a lessening, of a sort."

"It was sad." She nods.

Art is a sidhe, and he has the power of being listened to, a power that frustrates non sidhe somedays, but it is useful. Also Nadeen HAS learned to appreciate her court members, she wasn't just talking to lecture an uruly Aesin "So this was a rescue?"

A nod!

"It wasn't right to just leave her!"

"And she agreed to come. We promised to help."

"Er, I'm pretty sure we helped."

"...not that I quite know what to do now. Like..." She chews on her bottom lip and looks over at Art. Art, who is not Artie, not really. Not at all, really.

Art rubs at his chin thoughtfully.

"I mean, a chance is better than wasting away."

"She... she was beautiful, and a bit scared and yeah, sad. You don't hire a private dick on a job and expect him not to help the dame in need. The sap feels obligated, it's like a law of pulp dreams." Madern insists.

(and she had gams til next Tuesday!)

"Change is good, ain't it?"

Nadeen listens to the passionate declaration of Thistle, the well made point of Art about chances better than wasting away without a fight, and blinks as Madern delcares Pulp protocol , a type of protocol that most sidhe missed entirely and do not recognize. She clears her throat gently, "All right, all right. Right of Rescue applies here clearly, as for WHAT to do with her, we double check that urn and make sure she's not fading even here, and keep her near the fire for now. We may look for a place to release her so she may have a host. After the Gwen summons a tornado incident, I think we also make sure it isn't near Daughters of Eve we value ... though that did work out for the best." A fond look at Art as he is and Thistle who wouldn't be here without it, "This is now on me I suppose and that's fine. You all did the right thing , which does sometimes lead to complkications but that is still the right thing."

"May I have this Urn?" She says.

"It's in the kitchen."

"I see," She nods "Would you bring it to me please?"

A pause "Unless it's in the freezer or something for some nocker like reason ?"

"Not the freezer! Balefire makes way more sense, for sure. One sec, I'll grab it." She darts off towards the kitchen.

"Oh thank goodness," She mutters to herself.

Thistle returns with the special jar - this one glows, with golden veins and contained glamour both.

"Lovely, " And the Varich means that in every way. She takes that special jar and looks it over cautiously, kenning it, and she gasps as the full confirmation of what she's been told sets in.

/roll 6

(Plus 1 for WP)

Nadeen's focus grows intense, then she shudders, not with alarm but surprise.

...As Nadeen's hands settle around the urn, her expression changes to surprise.

She opens her senses to the Glamour within, following the bright threads woven through the vessel, and suddenly her breath catches.

This is not the distant recognition one Sidhe feels for another, nor merely the resonance of House Varich - though she can feel that clearly. But it is more, closer.

The feeling strikes with the certainty of blood - achingly familiar. For a moment, the room falls away, and Nadeen feels deep within herself that she knows this soul.

The essence within the urn carries the unmistakable pull of kinship. Whoever Amberheart truly is, she is not merely a lost Sidhe rescued from the Dreaming. She is family.

"Зимові Володарі з Мечами Сонячного Світла!!" Nadeen gasps.

"...Is that bad?"

The swear jar, which may well grow legs and follow Thistle around, jingles uncertainly.

Madern mutters "I think it's Slavic? Ukranian?"

"Ukranian, most certainly." Art supplies, "But not a phrase I know, I haven't made a study... yet."

Clearly planning to do so now.

"Pardon," Nadeen manages, and looks at Thistle, Madern, and Art, "Suffice to say this soul you found was at one time ...dear to me. And might be again."