#odyssey

"They're not preventing change, they're ignoring that it's happening all around them."

"Exactly!"

"There has to be a way for everyone to win. I don't want to deny Saoirse her grandchild, or my sister her grandmother - it's not like it's physics, it's just decisions."

"And I'm pretty sure physics can be.. persuaded..."

A grin over to Thistle, and a friendly nudge. "If anyone could, it would be you."

"Nockers fix things." Certain and stubborn.

"Oh! Oh, there's the baby! I'm gonna see if I can go hold her for a bit..."

Gwen comes into view

Aoife walks at her side, "And that's how I treat my spear tip so it doesn't rust. Some prefer stone, or bone."

The warrior pauses, "Shall I give you time to speak to your companion alone?"

"You're welcome to stay, Aoife, unless art needs privacy. You're an honest soul. I like you" A nod

She grins, a flash of white teeth in her dark face. "I like you too. I have never known a troll, but I would be glad to call this one my friend."

Gwen smiles back and offers a wrist clasp, "Fate can be fickle, but I would be honored to have you think of me so as well"

She clasps wrists and smiles.

Art looks up - both of them taller than him, alas. "Thistle and I were just trying to make some sense of things. There's a lot we don't know, and more than I'm not sure we're allowed to ask. It makes it difficult to understand your people." He admits.

"mmm manners are important" Gwen says after a firm but not crushing warrior's grasp, "But Aofie, will you tell Art if he asks a rude question but otherwise forgive him for asking it out of ignorance?"

"This, from a Riddle-master?" Aoife asks, amused.

Art blushes a little and ducks his head. "I'm no master. I won through deduction and what may have been a stroke of luck, or a cheap trick."

"GIven what Omario has tried, you got nothing to be ashamed of" Gwen snorts "Bastard tried to use his own as decoys and shields."

"You won because you were fated to do so." Aoife answers easily. "And because you showed Wit enough to triumph. Ask your questions, I'll answer if I may."

A glance to Gwen, and an uncomfortable shift. "He has not broken any rules. He knows well the lines, and he toes them to within an inch. Some warriors take his side as their superior and leader. I do not trust his judgement, so I forge my own current."

"Forge your own current rather than idolize Omario.. Sounds like you have wit" Gwen says "And forgive me. I am a guest but I cannot find it in me to speak one kind word of Omario. " A look at her "But I would speak well of many other Redfins who have proven a proud and gracious people"

"He is strong, and battle-tested. He has fought for the Redfin, and I respect his prowess as a warrior." Aoife says, saying perhaps more in what she leaves out than what she says.

"mm" the troll grunts..which unless you speak troll, probably just sounds like mm

Art scoots over, there is room around the table for three, and refreshments still present that he has only nibbled at.

"Aoife - can you tell us. We know that Janice - that's the baby's mother, that she had her skin taken away, and Omario means for it to go to the baby. Who has it now? It seems strange that it would be collecting dust, when it could be a living soul." He carefully phrases so as to try to avoid insult, taking Gwen's advise.

The warrior selkie is not one for subtlety, her expression is open and honest. And surprised. "Why, Chieftess Saoirse, of course."

Gwen nods at this, not surprised but then "Is an heir already picked for it?"

"Sine - now Janice - was her heir, and deeded to take over as Chieftess. She was her mother's heir for skin, and for the Redfin. Omario thought himself slighted for the latter, but truth be told, I don't think he was ever in the running, son of Saoirse or not.

When Sine... chose to leave? Her skin returned to Saoirse, who took up both mantles again. She has not chosen an heir since."

Aoife sighs. "Personally, I think she always hoped Sine would return."

"mm thank you" A nod

Art looks puzzled, but he keeps his wondering inside his head, trying to work through it rather than speak to his thoughts.

"If the Redfin's granddaughter is heir to Janice's - or Saoirse's skin... then she will need to step down?" He asks.

Aoife frowns. "Not until the child has grown... but yes, once the Chieftess has passed on her soulskin, she cannot rule the Redfin as she cannot maintain her bond with the Island. She will just be kin, and the hold responds to her as Fae. It is not a rule, but simply how it must be, to maintain our freehold, our protective spells, her communion with the volcano, everything."

"If we lose, does Omario have the main rights of raising the child?"

Aoife looks uncertain. "He has placed himself as her guardian, her rescuer. It may be so."

Art mutters, "In loco parentis. Emphasis on the "loco" part. He must be crazy if he thinks Thistle would allow it."

Aoife reminds him, "She accepted the Challenge, and it's outcome. If it is so, so it must be,"

"And he gets another selkie he expects to support him, and vote his way, or a puppet if she becomes Chief one day"

Art frowns. "Or if the child takes Saoirse's skin, but isn't ready to rule? Who leads the clan then?" Thinking of Niamh.

Aoife looks troubled. "A regent would be appointed. Her guardian."

"So... Omario. Well, well well, that makes sense. It's horrible, but it makes sense. " A nod to Arthur "That's why he kidnapped the baby. Regency road to ruling. "

"It all comes back to power." He looks more than a little disturbed.

Aoife raises a brow at his expression. "This, from a Shining Host?"

"Weird as it might be to believe, Aoife, Arthur is hoping for a low title so he won't have to rule " A look to Arthur "At least that's the vibe I've always gotten"

"I'd like to rule over a Library to rule that of Alexandria, with bookkeepers and tomes as my vassals and subjects."

"And of course, that means a multitude of pages" Deadpan

"If there is work enough to allocate..." He blinks, and laughs. "No fair. I used up my mental acuity for the day."

A grin "Only way I could slip that by you"

Thistle is holding the baby, whose wide eyes are working on following Citrine's antics - shimmer and chime and sparkle!

"In the book, Neverlanders are born from baby laughs, y'know..."

Wee one coos obligingly, and Citrine is sent into a spin of delight.

A chubby hand waves and clutches at the air, or maybe for Thistle's green hair.

"Hey now." Baby can grip Thistle's hand as it is offered. "Hercules!"

A squeal, joyful, and Citrine chimes, shining brighter than ever.

Thistle is smiling, too, with her spirals a happy orange shade.

Thistle isn't really one for kids, but... yes, like Frankie, she is instantly and totally in love with this particular child.

Art looks to Aoife, "Is there anything you can tell us about tomorrow's challenge?"

She shakes her head. "Afraid this one is going to be a surprise for me. Expressions of Skill can be varied. If it were me, I might try... I don't know, maybe a dramatic retelling of a battle or experience? Or maybe an exhibition of swimming or fighting skill. My magics are humble, and I'm no artist. But I can say that when the two submission are not comparable - apples to oranges, like - a painting, versus a dance? It is up to the crowd to vote, but if undecided, The Redfin gets final decision."