the_lioness | Spring, 448 HE

Spring, 448 HE

"Don't go in the water!" Alanna shouts after the three small figures racing across the sand, arms held out like wings that might, if they're lucky, catch the ocean breeze and send them soaring.

Alanna and George follow behind, lugging their bounty from Port Caynn's markets. It had been quite a task shepherding the six-year-old triplets around the city, answering questions and keeping them from wandering off, but the looks on their faces, the smiles and the wonder, had made it well worth the effort.

That's not to say they aren't exhausted. Alanna selects a spot and spreads their blanket, then promptly collapses on her back.

"I'm exhausted," she half groans, half laughs.

[OOC: Please ignore mentions of late summer sun. It's Spring. In conclusion: Spring.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

George contemplates joining her, but truth be told the enjoyment of watching the triplets tear after each other across the sand is - for the moment anyway - enough to override his fatigue. He settles instead for stretching his long legs across the blanket.

Looking down at Alanna, he chuckles. "You see lass, this is why people oft have their offspring one at a time - rather than three at a time."

Shielding her eyes from the late summer sun, Alanna makes a face at her friend.

"You sound as if I did that," she points toward her children, "on purpose!" And yet, she smiles. "Not that I wasn't perfectly content with the outcome, once my body was my own again. And there's something to be said for only having to be that large once."

Her expression turns mischievous.

"I've always liked to do things big, you know that."

George grins at her.

"Aye. I suspect it has somethin' to do with your need to compensate for being so small." he teases, ready to dive out of the way if she takes a swing at him.

"Small but mighty," she huffs. Mike said that to her once. She likes it. "JAMES BRIAN DO NOT PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH!"

As she shouts loud enough to be heard by Jamie, who is sampling a seashell, Alanna snakes and arm around George's leg and pulls.

Even expecting some sort of retaliation, he wasn't quite prepared for that. He lets out a yelp, grateful for the cushion of sand beneath the blanket that prevents his head from harm. Lying on his back - now looking up her - he starts to laugh.

"Alright, alright! I yield to your mightiness."

"As well you should," she laughs.

It's softened somewhat by the squeeze she gives his hand. Turning toward the children again, she shakes her head.

"Honestly, that boy will eat anything. I thought we were going to have to buy that fruit stand in the market. I know he's shooting up, but no stomach should hold that much."

Rolling himself upright again, George laughs, shaking some stray sand out of his hair.

"He's a growing boy Alanna, he was designed to eat. You think it's bad now, wait till he's p'rhaps another 6-7 years older. Don't you remember living with the pages in the palace? You've seen how lads that age eat. Lucky you're a noble, else he'd eat you out of house and home." he says, winking at her.

He returns his attention to the antics of the triplets.

"Mithros bless, they've grown up so fast."

Antics that include them racing back to the adults, apparently, with the brothers in the lead and a very determined Grace on their heels.

"Don't remind me," Alanna snorts. "It makes me feel old."

"Uncle George!" Grace squeals. "Catch them!"

What kind of uncle would he be if he ignored his only niece?

Laughing, George gets to his feet.

Two arms, two boys. It's relatively easy work to snatch them up as they barrel toward him and Alanna, though James very nearly manages to wriggle away from him. When George is sure he has firm hold on each of them - one boy tucked under each arm - he presents them to Grace.

"Alright Grace, they're your captives now. What are you planning to do with them?"

Grace stops short, lifting an index finger to her lips as she considers. Thom and Jamie squirm, groaning variations on "Awwww, George!" and frowning in disgust.

"Choose carefully, daughter mine." Alanna fails to stifle a laugh. "Such opportunities rarely present themselves."

"They need a dunking," Grace decides at last, smiling smugly at the boys.

Edited 2008-06-21 17:57 (UTC)

"Sorry boys, I was only followin' orders," George says cheerfully.

He grins as Jamie and Thom continue to protest, but turns to Alanna for approval first, before following Grace's edict. If he dunks her boys without the all clear - he may end up being dunked himself. Or worse.

If he knows her at all, he knows he still might anyway.

Alanna shrugs, feigning disinterest. "She is my daughter, it seems," she says, yawning extravagantly. "Perhaps I've told one too many duck pond stories." When Grace eagerly looks up at George and nods, Alanna mouths close; don't really throw them in and shakes her head.

Thom pushes himself up enough to argue, "But we didn't do anything to deserve it! She's jus' mad I got her dress wet."

Edited 2008-06-21 18:21 (UTC)

"Well, the women have spoken m'lads, it looks as though you're out of luck." George says, with a wink to Alanna to let her know he's understood her instructions. This ought to be fun.

He begins to take deliberately slow, measured steps across the sand toward the edge of the water. "P'rhaps if you apologize to your sister, she'll take pity on your plight."

Jamie lets out a suspiciously exuberant whoop and tries to climb George's arm. Thom, meanwhile, scowls at Grace and mumbles "M'sorry!" It doesn't sound particularly apologetic, and he somehow manages to give off the impression of folded arms and looking down his nose at his sister.

She remains unmoved. "Now you're gonna get wet, Thom Alan!"

They all tend to revert to full names in a quarrel.

Alanna rolls to her feet and follows, grinning.

Jamie's attempt is noble - if futile - he hasn't the size or skill to best George. He's not going anywhere.

At the edge of the water, George kicks off his boots, abandoning them on the sand and nonchalantly strolls into the water. He stops when the water is just above his ankles, waiting to gauge Jamie and Thom's reaction.

The water has to be chilly. Alanna eyes it and stays well back, beside Grace. She leans over a bit and suggests, "Make sure you mean it, Grace. You know they'll retaliate. Somewhere, somewhen."

They have more gumption than Thom Sr. did as a child. He would just slink off and sulk.

"I-" Grace frowns. "Maybe George can just scare them a little?" Then: "Is that a shark?!"

"Where?" yelps Jamie. Now they're both squirming again.

The water is cold, but not enough to truly bother him. He's always had a greater tolerance for cold than Alanna has.

"Sharks? Uh-oh lads, you could definitely be in trouble now." George says playing along.

He wades in just a little bit deeper now, letting the water come up halfway between his ankles and knees. This brings Thom and Jamie precariously close to the water's surface.

"Nooooooooooo," Jamie wails, giggling all the while. "I don't wanna be ate."

Thom, on the other hand, looks distinctly nervous. "I said I was sorry!"

Alanna raises her eyebrows. "Are you certain? I know you've never had to walk in sodden skirts, but trust me when I say it's not fun."

"Yes," Thom insists, looking around. "I didn't do it on purpose! Hey, I don't see any fins."

Grace snickers.

"Jamie m'lad, I don't think you're showing the proper appreciation for the danger you're in." George says, in a mock-stern voice. "Your sister has you at her mercy, so to speak. And who knows what may lurk in these waters.."

He leans down a bit to peer into the water, as though looking for something.

Both boys yelp at the proximity of cold sea water, and even Grace lets out a gasp. Alanna looks heavenward so as not to laugh out loud. She trusts George not to drop them, and thus the looks on all their faces are frankly hilarious.

"Put us down!" Thom cries. Then, thinking about this, he wisely adds, "On shore!

"...please?"

Jamie, who has been studying the water since his initial shock, announces, "I don't see anything 'cept your big feet, Uncle George."

"Big feet?" he repeats, with mock-indignation. It's all he can do to stop himself from laughing uproariously and ruining it all.

"Big feet indeed. James Brian, I'll have you know these big feet - as you so foolishly insist on calling them - and the fellow attached to them are what are keeping you out of the water."

He leans Jamie just a little closer to the surface, taking care to keep Thom up a little higher.

"Well lads, this is your last chance. Do you yield to your sister? Or do you see for yourself what lies below the surface?"

"I yield!" Thom is quick to say.

"Never!" laughs Jamie, clinging to George like an insistent vine.

If George looks over, Alanna might be holding her thumb and index finger an inch or so apart; a little water on his head won't hurt him.

Edited 2008-06-21 19:27 (UTC)

George casts a quick look over one shoulder and nods his head ever-so-slightly.

"Well done, Thom - you have received a conditional pardon." George says, grinning. "On the other hand, Jamie it seems needs to learn his lesson the hard way. I'm sorry about this lad."

He tilts Jamie toward the water's surface, letting his forehead and the top of his hairline touch the water.

Even Jamie, in all his recklessness, has to shriek at the temperature. But he's still laughing when he says "Okay, I yield" and flicks chilly droplets off his head.

Grace smiles prettily and nods. "You can bring them back now, Uncle George."

Alanna moves to the water line and holds out her hands for one of them. Hopefully Thom. He's dry.

"Alright, back to the shore it is then!" George crows, turning on his heels and heading back toward Alanna and Grace.

He passes Thom to the waiting arms of his mother, keeping his hold on the slightly dripping Jamie as he picks up his boots again. He carries the boots and Jamie over to the blanket before depositing the boy back on his feet.

Grinning he asks, "Would you care for something to dry off with, lad?"

Holding Thom on her hip, Alanna watches her other son carefully. There's a spark of mischief in his eyes that she recognizes only too well.

"Sure," he tells George. "And can we have more fruit now?"

Grace rolls her eyes and settles down on the blanket.

"That's up to your mother, lad." George says, offering the boy a piece of fabric that had previously been used to carry apples. It's dry and clean and will work just fine as a towel.

"I suppose," she agrees, still eyeing Jamie.

Jamie beams, rubbing at his hair with the improvised towel. Next, he grabs an apple and takes a huge bite, then plants a wet, sticky kiss on Grace's cheek.

Ah.

"Sorry, Sis!" he chortles.

"JAMIE!" is his enraged answer. Grace stomps down to the shore to wash her face. Thom sighs at them and shakes his head, then sits down when Alanna sets his feet on the ground. Jamie joins him, yawning.

"Trouble," Alanna says affectionately. "George, your arms must be tired, carting them around like that."

George ruffles Thom's hair affectionately.

"Ah, they're not so heavy," he says truthfully, though he does stretch his arms to ease the muscles a bit. It occurs to him, he's not as young as he once was. "Mind you, if I'd had to carry them like that for too much longer, all three of us might have ended up in the water."

He takes an apple as well and shines it against his shirt.

"Tired Jamie?"

Alanna looks torn for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not that image would have been funny enough to warrant dealing with the aftermath.

"Bit," says Jamie, flopping backwards to avoid Grace when she returns, patting her cheek. She lightly kicks his leg and claims her own spot.

"Have a nap," Alanna suggests. "We'll wake you up before high tide."

Thom already looks half asleep.

George looks from Jamie to Grace and grins.

He folds up one of the smaller blankets they brought along, just in case and turns it into a makeshift pillow. "Here lad, enjoy the sunshine and the sea air - rest your eyes for a spell. I promise we'll wake you if anythin' exciting happens."

"'kay," Jamie mumbles back, taking George at his word.

Grace is smiling to herself, arms folded beneath her head on the blanket. In what seems like no time at all, the triplets are either asleep or heading that way.

Alanna relaxes slightly and beckons to George. Lowering her voice, she asks, "Anything new out of Carthak?"

It's hard to get a private moment with the triplets around. She has to take advantage of them when they occur.

George waits to see that all three triplets are indeed asleep - no point in worrying them yet. He's silent for a moment, watching each tiny chest rise and fall in a rhythm that children can only maintain when they sleep.

When he finally does reply, his voice is equally soft as Alanna's. "I don't know know much - it's no easy task to sift out the nuggets of truth in all that unsubstantiated rumour. Still, from what I have heard, things are looking grim. Carthak's crops have failed again, due to a lack of rain. People are uneasy and I don't think it would take much to push them over into outright panic." he says, frowning at the thought.

"There is concern that the lack of crops will lead to a drastic food shortage. And you know what that means..."

Alanna glances out to sea, toward the Copper Isles.

"They'll start to look elsewhere," she replies, in what is practically a whisper. "You and Numair should catch up. I know he's been keeping an eye on a few potential spies."

Her mouth tightens. If someone is spying for Carthak and masquerading as a friend, he or she is going to have to contend with the infamous Lioness temper.

Edited 2008-06-23 17:54 (UTC)

George nods. "Aye that as well - but likely the common folk'll riot first. When there's a food shortage, priority goes to the nobles and the wealthy, so it will take longer to bestir those in power into action. It's the commoners who will go without."

He sighs. "We should compare notes he and I. I've got one or two likely candidates pegged m'self. Someone here is feeding Carthak information and I'd dearly love to find out who he or she is. After all, I've not added any new... pieces to my collection lately."

"Not every ruler is like Jon," Alanna acknowledges. "Tortall's nobles weren't allowed that luxury during our famine. Ozorne isn't as conscientious."

She flashes him a small smile; leave it to George to better consider the common folk while she's busy worrying about the Realm.

Both eyebrows raise. "Oh? And where is your... collection these days?"

As if he'd ever tell her. Alanna smirks, bumping her shoulder against his.

"Aye, I can think of several monarchs who could learn a thing or three from Jon and Thayet - and that's not just Ozorne either."

He laughs and retaliates by bumping her shoulder in return. "You know full well I can't tell you. Trade secret and all. Rogues only."

He's silent then, watching the waves lap against the sand.

"I'm worried Alanna, it's like the calm before the storm. I wonder how many days like this we left..." he motions to the triplets, curled up on the blanket.

The look she gives her children is fiercely protective, and almost sad. George has the Sight; when he says things like that, Alanna listens.

"I know." She meets his eyes. "That's one reason I've agreed to have the Riders' training camp at Olau this year. The Barony's defenses need help, and if things continue as they have been, I don't know how much I'll be there to protect them-" a gesture toward the triplets "-as situations develop."

She chews on her lip for a moment.

"If the storm does come, can I send them to the Swoop if necessary?"

"Yes. I'll protect them with my life, if that's what it comes to." he says simply, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. "That's a promise."

She holds on to his hand, smiling faintly.

"See that it doesn't. I value your life just as highly, you know," Alanna tells him. Then, "Thank you, George. That's a weight off my mind. It could be nothing, or it could be everything. Goddess only knows what we face."

"Oh you'll not be rid of me so easy as that," he tells her with a grin. "This former rogue has lots left to do before the Black God comes a'calling."

He pushes the basket of food toward Alanna.

"When I'm back at the Swoop, I'll draft a message to Numair and see if we can't arrange a meeting. In the meantime, lets enjoy whats left of this day Alanna."

Whatever happens, they'll face it head-on, same as they always have.

Hi!
My name is Jessika!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Spring, 448 HE

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Hello.. Let's get acquainted...