the_lioness | Late Fall, 448 HE

Late Fall, 448 HE

While at court, Alanna and Adam like to dine in their suite whenever possible. Not only does it afford them privacy, but it's a good opportunity to spend time with their otherwise hard to capture six-year-olds. This visit marks the first time the triplets have been at court this year, and, outside of lessons, they've been left to their own devices in ways they weren't when they were younger. Except, that is, for the evening meal. They are to report promptly at six, and tonight they're late.

Alanna, rubbing her husband's neck while pretending not to read over his shoulder, glances at the door to the triplets' rooms and frowns.

"Mari said they came back to dress an hour ago. Prince Roald was with them. They're awfully quiet," she observes.

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Adam's own eyes glaze over the page, and he mumbles an "Mmmm," in agreement.

"But they did come back."

It's fairly impressive in and of itself, really.

That's a good point. Alanna cocks her head to one side and acknowledges it with an amused nod, forgetting, perhaps, that he can't see her face.

A muffled bump comes from behind the closed door. It's followed by a groan, which is quickly shushed by other young, insistent voices.

Leaning down, Alanna wraps her arms around Adam and whispers near his ear, "Still, I suspect foul play."

There's a low chuckle, and a light pause, as if he's considering another type of foul play.

"With our children involved, that's a given."

"How did they get so mischievous? Mari, could you-" Alanna starts to say to the girl waiting to serve them their meal, but before she can finish, the door creaks open.

Grace, Thom and Jamie shuffle out, looking guilty. Well, Grace and Jamie look guilty. Thom looks put upon. He sighs heavily and takes a step forward. "Sorry we're late, it wasn't on purpose, we'll be better next time," he recites.

All three have their hands behind their backs. Grace in particular seems to be looking everywhere except at her parents.

Alanna raises her eyebrows, moving to sit beside Adam. "Where's Roald?"

Another groan comes from the room behind them. Jamie smiles disarmingly and takes a step back in order to kick the door closed.

Edited 2008-06-17 14:40 (UTC)

Thom shoots an annoyed glance at Jamie, and sighs once more.

"He decided he would rather sup with his parents this evening."

Adam looks sideways at Alanna, and clears his throat.

"Oh did he?"

"Yes," they insist in perfect harmony.

Alanna returns Adam's look, trying not to smile, and says under her breath, "At least the groan indicates he's still alive."

As one, the triplets take a step forward and try smiling, as if charm will assist them out of their tight spot. Jamie can get away with it, but the other two still look pained.

"Thom?" Alanna asks, watching her son steadily. "May I see your hands?"

Grace elbows her brother and hisses something under her breath. He turns a glare her way and shows his hands anyway. They're a touch purple, with something that looks like powdered sugar under and around his nails.

"And yours, Grace."

Grace, being fairly wise -- for her age, at least -- managed not to get anything on her hands.

Mostly. There's a rogue lick of the thumb before she puts out her hands for Alanna's inspection.

Without being asked, Jamie offers up his hands, as well -- purple all over.

"Would you care to share why it is that you all seem to have acquired such spectacularly colored hands? Was it perhaps a potion gone wrong?"

He's managing not to laugh, but just barely.

"No potion." Then Thom grumbles something that sounds like, "She used all the washing water."

"I did not," Grace retorts, holding her chin high. "I didn't get my hands dirty."

"Are you sure?" Alanna says, amused.

Mari appears behind them with the young prince, who seems to have formed an attachment to a chamber pot. His hands are likewise purple, and his face is discolored and sticky. He looks miserable, but he only shakes his head fervently when Alanna poses Adam's question again. There's no way he's going to be the one to confess.

"It looks to me as if you lot have stolen sweets from the kitchens," Alanna suggests finally. It's not a particularly original crime, though they seem to have carried it, as they are wont to do, to extremes.

"We stole nothing!" cries Grace, and to be honest, that much is true. None of the triplets did any such thing.

Roald tries to weigh in, but his words are lost in the echoes (and mush) of the pot.

Adam reaches over, placing a comforting hand on Thom's shoulder. "If nothing was stolen, then would you care to explain how all of this came about?"

"Not really," he tries.

Jamie tends to be of the opinion that once enough evidence is on the table, delaying the inevitable is a waste of time and only heightens their chances of getting in trouble besides, so he says, "It was a dare." He flicks a loyal glance at Grace, the real culprit. "We dared him."

Alanna, now on her knees before Roald, spies telltale purple stains around the edges of his tunic's sleeves and collar. "Ah. A dare." Beat. "Last of the summer berry tarts, then?" The prince nods slowly. "Magicked to stay fresh?" Another miserable nod. "It's not wise to eat those in bulk, you know."

Oh, he knows now, his expression seems to say.

"It's a common palace prank, I'm afraid. But now you've shown your mettle, so I doubt you'll be subjected to another such dare," she finishes, giving the other three a hard look as she rests a hand on Roald's forehead, soothing him with her Gift.

Roald's eyes close, and a smile appears -- the first all evening. All day, really, as the triplets would know.

"Why on earth did you find it necessary to dare him, Grace Thea?"

"We. He said we," she points out, and frowns. The real answer -- that it seemed a good idea at the time, and was rather fun -- isn't anything she's prepared to say, and she has to think fast to come up with, "It was an initi- init- a test. Like the Chamber. We had to make sure he could keep up, so's he wouldn't get hurt. We didn't mean to make him sick!"

That earns her a startled glance from her mother; she's frankly surprised Grace knows about the Chamber at all. But Alanna leaves Adam to answer and goes to the sitting room desk to write a note. It reads:

Your Majesties,

The triplets dared the Prince to steal tarts from the kitchens this afternoon, and he seems to have consumed at least one too many. I've eased the ache and will send him back with a packet of herbs for his tea. I suspect he will sleep through the night and feel fine in the morning, though he might be off sweets for awhile.

Adam and I apologize for raising little monsters, who will, incidentally, be along to apologize themselves before the week is out.

-Alanna

Grace may be a stickler for the details, but Adam knows exactly which of his children is the mastermind.

"Roald did not need to pass any sort of test. I'm disappointed that you would do such a thing."

Scolding has never really been his strong point -- especially when he doesn't believe in it.

"What are you going to say to the hard working cooks?"

Grace thinks about this for a moment. "Shouldn't the Prince be able to eat the tarts from his own kitchens?"

A muffled snort comes from Alanna's general direction. She composes her features as she walks back into sight, folding the note around the packet of herbs, which she gives to Mari. "Please escort His Highness back to his apartments, Mari. Roald?" She looks down at the little black-haired boy. "Remind me to tell you one day what happened when my brother and I turned half a library into pies."

"Bye, Roald," the triplets mumble. When he's gone, they eye their parents worriedly.

"I expect all three of you to apologize to Roald, his parents and the cooks." Alanna declares.

"But-" starts Grace (of course), but she is cut off by her father.

"No butts. You will do as your mother says, and there shall be no more pies for at least two weeks."

He glances at Alanna -- was that too much?

She fights back another smile, a task that is proving increasingly difficult, and nods. It will never stick.

"As your father says. Now, I think you three are in for an early bedtime. I'll have Mari bring you your supper, if you can stand to eat anything else."

"I'd like tea. Maybe some bread." Jamie burps. Alanna suspects he does it on purpose.

"Tea and bread, then," Alanna answers.

Grace pouts prettily.

"No pouting, Grace, you three are lucky you're getting off so lightly. Now go, off to bed."

Adam watches as they shift about a bit, whining under their breath in that way that they know won't be heard (and therefore won't be punished).

"Go on."

And one by one, they leave the room, Thom hanging behind last, giving his parents one final look over his shoulder.

Adam takes a deep breath, counts to 5, and then bursts out laughing.

His laughter makes it impossible for Alanna to hold back her own. She collapses beside him, head on his shoulder, and shakes with the strength of it.

"Goddess," she manages at last. "What- Roald's face."

"I think it'll be a good long while before that poor boy eats any more tarts at all."

Too bad he can't say the same for his children.

"I only find myself wishing they'd come up with something a bit more creative."

She smirks up at him and warns, "Give them time. They haven't been here in a while, and I suspect that had they not been caught, the dares would have escalated. The waters have to be tested before they jump in."

Another laugh escapes.

"Besides, this obsession with tarts runs in the family. Be thankful Grace didn't make the cooks see lions prowling their kitchens.

"...I hope."

Adam laughs, and wraps his arm around her.

"I'm fairly certain we would've heard the screams, even here in our rooms."

He leans over and there's a light kiss on her neck.

"They are happy, though, running about the place."

It's more of a question than a statement; a childhood like this is something Adam only ever imagined.

"I think so. Olau is wonderful, but this is good for them. They won't have quite the shock I did later on, coming from the country."

Content, she leans against him.

"Especially Grace." It's hesitant. Adam and Alanna have had many discussions about her strong desire to see Grace try for her shield, but since Alanna and Grace had their version of a heart to heart, a pleasant truce has been in effect all around. "She really enjoys the finer side of court life, I think." She's trying! "And Thom loves watching the pages at their sword and tilting lessons."

And Adam knows just how hard it is for her. Or he thinks he does, anyway, and gives her another light kiss.

"He's likely counting the days until he can join them."

"Under four years," she says, and shakes her head.

It's strange. She'd been so eager for the triplets to get older, to be able to accompany them places, and now she feels they're growing too fast.

"I'm glad we came." Stretching, she turns to face him, but not without a kiss first. "I've heard there have been more attacks."

She hasn't told him what kind of attacks just yet, however.

Adam nods, doesn't say anything to that -- all this time, and he's still never quite sure what to say.

It's best that he lets her talk; they've worked out a rhythm to this, these preludes to battles for Tortall and all that entails.

"Several villages in the Royal Forest have reported incidents, and an entire settlement along the coast was almost destroyed," she tells him quietly. "Just recently. Witnesses in both places report that an ogre was at fault."

Her voice suggests this is not a normal happenstance.

He swallows again, and nods.

Reports of Ogres or not, such desctruction isn't done by a peace-loving unicorn with purple sparkly wings.

Alanna watches him for a long moment, absently tracing patterns on his forearm. Sometimes it's so easy to forget he hasn't been here all his life.

"We're starting to get reports of similar creatures from all over Tortall and our neighbors," she continues. "These are immortals, Adam. They aren't supposed to be here."

And yet, it's times like these that he's never more aware.

"Aren't supposed to, as in they were banished, or aren't supposed to, as in they're usually too busy to deal with us down here?"

"Banished."

She bites her lip and looks out the window.

"A shaman shut them away in the Divine Realms about four hundred years ago."

There's silence, tension in the air.

"What had been keeping them away?"

"Powerful magic. Someone or something has broken the spell. It's the only explanation. But I doubt even a mage like Thom or Roger would be able to do so," she explains. "Not without extensive study."

Alanna meets his eyes again, then glances down.

"I thought you should know. If this continues, I don't think we'll be able to go home as soon as planned."

Emphasis on the 'we.' She's unsettled enough that she wants to keep them nearby.

Adam simply nods again, and pulls his wife close.

"We'll stay as long as needed."

It didn't need to be said, but he says it nonetheless.

"Or as long as we're welcome," she snorts, casting a dubious look at the children's bedroom. "Those three might have us disinvited before too long."

Now that the truth is out in the open and Adam understands, she feels emboldened and able to make light of the situation, at least a little. It's easier to smile knowing they'll be safe.

"Still hungry?"

"Not especially," he says, taking her levity a step further.

He leans down, whispering something in her ear, a wicked grin on his face.

"Oh."

As she listens, her expression lightens further until she's grinning back in a way that leaves no doubt as to how she feels about what he's proposing. "Oh. In that case..." She kisses his neck, just under his ear, and ducks out from under his arm. Moments later, they're laughing and kissing and generally doing a poor job of walking to their room in a straight line. Adam is forced to pick her up to hurry her along, and, well...

Mari returns just as their door swings shut. "My Lady..." she starts, and then gives up. First looking around to make sure she's alone, she throws her arms up and huffs, "Honestly."

She's never had children. One day, maybe she'll understand.

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Late Fall, 448 HE

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