#rivervale_lodge

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Brekke dismounts Stormwake after a training session. The horse is doing well with jousting, and Pennons promises to be a fine showcase for Rivervale yet again. And with the successful and safe return of the Hearth...the Chieftain feels as though she can take a breath for a moment. Yes, a Dragon approaches, but...she feels decidedly optimistic about the outcome of what promises to be a fierce battle.

She even catches herself humming slightly as she brushes Stormwake's coat.

Connor is waiting nearby. He's been... clingy, hovering this day. An announcement was received earlier that Lord Aidenn ap Lowell would be in attendance this evening, and though the boy had little response other than "Oh. Okay." He has been uncharacteristically quiet.

Frank has been around the Lodge too; repairing fences, seeing to end-of-season things, etc.

"Connor," Brekke addresses him as she brushes the horse. "You are quiet and still. It is unusual. Do you feel well?"

"Dragons are coming." He remarks simply. He fidgets with his tail a bit.

"Yes." Brekke nods. "This worries you."

Siv is heading out with her ship in the bottle towards Kestrel

"They might gobble me up. Gerd says they won't, but dragons are bigger than her."

He edges closer, and peers up at her. "What if they don't like me at all?"

"You will not be gobbled." Firmly from Brekke. Then she looks to where Siv is walking. "Siv? Where are you going?"

Then she looks back down at Connor. "Then that is their failing. You are a fine boy, and you will be a fine man, and any who cannot see that need to have their eyes checked."

"You told me to take the... " Siv says looking towards the ship "You know, when... isn't that today?"

A blink from Brekke to Siv, then a nod. "You are right. Carry on."

Siv nods and texts for others to come along if they want.

Sylvi declines. She's in her emissary gear and intends to stay as part of the social niceties...and defense system.

Connor dresses in some of his nicer, unstained court voile, such as he might have. And seeks out Gerd.

Dogs bark! Unknowns approaching. The trod that would lead, however roundaboutly, towards the Kingdom of Apples has a visitor upon it.

Gerd sticks around but from up high. She doesn't trust herself not to be rude.

Connor nods to Brekke in response to her earlier remark, and sneaks a hand up to grasp hers, if allowed.

Frank has moved on to re-wiring the sauna thermostat. Must have needed it.

Glamour flares, and the trod opens, with the sound of a belling hound, the stamp of hooves, and a scent on the wind like fresh apples and smoky campfires.

Dame Dagmar is there on guard, Flyswatter in hand, Azure-and-vert tabard over her armor... very official, very Rivervale.

And a pair of sidhe emerge. The younger, a lad fresh into wilderhood, attired in a tabard befitting a squire. He wears ailil colors and his refined looks and pointed ears clearly show his Sidhe heritage. An emblem of a horseshoe beheath a snarling canine, silver on black, is on his chest. He announces,

""The Lord of Silver and Sable, Sir Aidenn Lowell ap Ailil, master of Hound and Horse, sovereign of the Barony of Silverwolf in the Kingdom of Apples, doth request the hospitality of your hold, Baroness Brekke Silverhand, for the evening."

Behind him steps the Ailil Himself. His demeanor states that he thinks of himself as The Ailil, in capitals, as he surveys the lodge for a long moment, seeking the chieftain.

Sir Aidenn is beautiful, as all sidhe, tall and slender, fair of skin and with dark, flowing locks tied back from his face, though wisps do pull free and dance around cheekbones sculpted of pure marble. Piercing blue eyes survey the lodge with a critical air. His voile is hunting leathers, fine black suedes with silver accents, finely made but showing use. His leather boots show a well-toned calf used to riding, and a pair of rowel spurs click with each step. Pacing solidly at his side is a hunting dog - a massive elkhound, furred in black ticked with gray that bleeds to silver to their fae sight, and with a gleam of intelligence in it's visage that brings to mind Oak and Edelweiss. Missing here is their playful nature, as the hound paces beside it's master, focused and intent on awaiting the next command.

As the guests are announced, Frank appears from the back of the Lodge, wiping his hands on a rag.

As the glamour started to swell at the trod, Brekke took Connor's hand for a gentle squeeze, but then bent to say, "You are well-loved here. And you know your own heart. All will be well."

When the sidhe emerge before them, Brekke gives Connor's hand another squeeze, and then releases it as she steps forward. She is in her better garb, but not her fine court gear. Gwydion green-and-gold tabard, with the Rivervale insignia more subtly presented at her shoulder. Her expression is serious as she greets Sir Aidenn with a nod. "I am Brekke, Baroness of Rivervale. Welcome, Sir Aidenn. We have been expecting you, and you and your company are welcome to the hospitality of our Lodge as you request." A nod to the younger boy who announced the lord.

Kerri stands a little back from Brekke, closer to the Lodge, and Sylvi is with her.

A riding crop was held loosely at his side as he exited the trod, and this slaps against his leg lightly, a practiced gesture, though he slides it onto his belt as he spots the Chieftain, striding forward to offer her his hand. A snap of fingers and the Dog stops in his tracks, sitting and awaiting another order. "Well met, Baroness. I hope to conclude our business expediently and not trespass upon your hospitality for long." Courteous, though to the point.

Frank lingers behind, in the back, looking more like a servant in handyman's clothes.

Connor, meanwhile has gravitated towards the dog. His eyes are wide as he reaches out with a smile. "Hi, I'm Connor, but you can call me Buddy..." His customary greeting they have heard many a time. A snarl rumbles in the hound's throat...

A slight lift of her brow. "As you say, Sir." Her voice is carefully neutral. "I would have you meet the...." She pauses in her introductions. "Connor, come and greet Sir Aidenn, please."

Gerd comes out from behind the building, where Connor can see her. Her outfit leans towards the gothic but not as heavily as sometimes.

Connor stops, and the hound quiets. The Baron turns to watch, and says softly, "Fen, stand down." The dog immediately lies down and is silent. Hands behind his back, Connor approaches and gives a small bow to the Lord. "Um. Hullo."

"Sir Aidenn, I am certain you recognize Connor."

Lord Aidenn's forehead creases as he frowns - perhaps displeased, or confused. Stepping forward, he kneels, and takes the boy's chin lightly in his gloved hand, and turns his face left, and right, examining silently. If he was a horse, he might have checked his teeth.

Gerd's eyes narrow just a bit

Kerri steps forward a bit impulsively at that, frowning, but stops herself...still far away that the Ailil might not have noticed.

Brekke watches carefully, but doesn't interfere. Yet.

A little crease between her brows, but her expression is otherwise hard to read - mostly stoic and neutral.

He removes his glove, and lightly ruffles the boy's hair. A friendly looking gesture - ah, fingers running over his ears, and a nod. Trusting touch to verify what his mortal sight told him, yep, those are visible with and without Fae eyes. He stands, and looks down at the boy once more. A long moment of silence. The squire bustles over and tugs at his arm, and he leans just a touch to catch the boy's whispers. "Indeed. Thank you, Perchal." Turning back to Brekke. "I have not seen the lad since his Chrysalis, nearly 10 years hence. But, yes. This is he. I trust he has not made an excess of trouble for you, despite his Foolish nature?" Ah, as in a Jester. Perhaps not an insult, really, to the kith. Connor gazes after him as the man turns away, a strange and forlorn longing in his gaze.

Brekke hesitates a moment before responding, considering the man and choosing her words. "Connor has brought great joy to Rivervale. We are very pleased to have him. Perhaps you should ask him, Sir, if he is pleased to be here." A gentle chiding? The man certainly hasn't spoken to Connor directly yet.

Gerd wonders briefly if flicker flashing sidhe into lakes works? Does their birthright spare them entirely? or just have them do an elegant swan dive?

"It is not a child's prerogative to dictate that their caretakers bend to their whims and pleasures." His tone, still mild and agreeable, as he turns to gaze at Connor once more. "Lad, speak up, though fate twists your tongue, tell me, are you well treated here? Schooled, and fed, and clothed as fits your station? Do you listen to your betters, and obey such duties as they have set you to?"

Connor is indeed tonguetied as the magnificent fae before him greets him. A glance to Brekke, as though asking permission, before he responds. Perhaps a small frown from the Sidhe at that.

"Boss-Chieftain Brekke is... very stern. She wakes us with chores, and sends us on quests to fetch and carry. Hearth Kerri is worse, she makes me wash the dishes every day, and I have to clean up after every childling here. The Mountain and the Storm tell me what to do also, and never let me drive their trucks. They never feed me, and I'm beat with sticks if I talk back. You can see the bruises on me, and I'm just, just wasting away."

Brekke gives the nod to Connor when he looks, then listens attentively.

And she stifles a grin...mostly.

Gerd smiles just a bit.

"But I'd never lie about them, and they are as good as any family anyone might need. I even found my sister here, and she's the best one I ever had. Right, Gerd?" A vigorous wave to the gothling girl.

Aidenn had a hint of a smile, wry, as he works through that. He frowns though at the last. "Sister? I may not have raised you, but I -DO- know all who have my patronage. And I have never sired a troll."