Archives

Nephew-Nieces and Other Family

Dec18

To [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s prompt.

Addergoole has a landing page here.

If you would like to see this family tree, I can oblige.

First day of school, Year 21 of the Addergoole School

“Bye, Mom.” Dom and Carey kissed their mom-dad’s cheeks, patted its shoulders, and fled into the school before they could be burdened with any more excessive advise. “We’ll be fine!”

It was Carey who called it over a shoulder, because Carey was in charge of reassuring that parent; Dom got to reassure their other biological parent, when Ty visited.

“Free at last.” Dom’s quip fell a little weakly as they stared at the door – a thick steel door in short cement wall that seemed to come out of the ground.

“Do you think Mom-dad…?”

“Worries too much? Yeah. Loads.” Dom made its voice sound firm, no matter how shaky it was feeling. “Look, we’re gonna be fine.”

“Of course you are!” A lush girl patted them both on the back. “Aren’t you two pretty? And you’re going to do just fine; I’ll watch after you. I’m Adorlee, by the by.”

“Dominique sh’Tya.” Dom held out a hand, which conveniently meant turning around and moving out of the new arrival’s grasp. “This is my twin, Cary sh’Jaya.”

“Your twin… by a different mother?” Her pretty brow furrowed. Dom sighed. They’d figured, maybe, here in Addergoole, it wouldn’t confuse people so much.

“Both our parents are…”

“Wait, did you say Tya? Oh, darnit all! That makes you my nephews.”

“Nieces.” Carey had opinions about gender. They were different from Dom’s opinions.

“Nephew-nieces. Are you one of Mi – Professor VanderLinden’s?”

“Oh, now don’t make it sound like such a thing… but yes.” The pretty girl – Adorlee? – Adorlee pouted at them. “Well, at least let me show you around.”

“Or me.” The voice was different. Angrier. Colder. The face was different – older, since it had been over a decade. But Dom recognized a brother.

“Eryk!” Carey and Dom left the overbearing Adorlee in the dust to surround their half-brother in hugs. “You can show us around.”

Carey had opinions on a lot of things. Incestuous family tree or not, Dom hoped Eryk-is-an-acceptable-boyfriend wasn’t one of them.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/434674.html. You can comment here or there.

Looking, a continuation drabble of Addergoole @kissofjudas

Dec16

After Love. Approx. year 30 of the Addergoole School.

Shira had turned down the first four people Mike had brought to her.

Two of them had been older students, the other two late late entries into Regine’s breeding project – with the war making a mess of their lives, Regine had started bringing in whatever new blood she could find, and Mike was happily helping her repopulate the world. One of the students had been male, the other female; one of the Project ones had been female, the other hermaphroditic.

And Shira had said – later and in private – “No. Good try, but no.”

And Luke was still obnoxiously in love, and even more obnoxiously entirely oblivious to that fact.

“Professor?”

Mike glanced up at the voice. There was unsurprisingly, a student standing there. Skylla. Mike taught her, of course, in a Literature class – American Lit, this semester – where she was quiet unless prompted but eloquent and off-beat when questioned. She was also, so far, a scruffy tomboy who hadn’t yet decided what she would be as an adult. No the sort Mike normally pursued. He’d assumed she’d end up Laurel’s or Doug’s, or possibly Sang Ki’s.

But she was standing in his doorway, radiating concern and need so badly that Mike didn’t need to focus on his empathy to understand it.

“Come on, Skylla. How can I help you?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/432991.html. You can comment here or there.

Love, a drabble of Mike VanderLinden for @kissofJudas

Dec14

Approx. year 30 of the Addergoole School, a Friday-night staff party. Just about 10 years before the Myst/Luke drabbles. Yes, Luke is slow.

“Luke’s in love.” Mike stared at her drink. “I hate when he’s in love.” Her drink was, inexplicably, empty.

“You have such a wide data set to know that from?” Shira Pelletier poured Mike another drink.

“Yes.” She chugged the drink, and sulked at its emptiness again. “He’s been in love three times before, and each time it’s sucked.”

“Even when it was your daughter?” This time, Shira filled the glass with a clear liquid. Mike sniffed it: water.

“Even when it’s my daughter.” Mike flopped backwards onto the couch, her head in Shira’s lap. Shira petted nicely. It was a pity sh really didn’t want anything to do with Mike. The Daeva couldn’t figure that one out. Wasn’t she pretty enough?

“Well, Mike, I think you need a distraction. Because if the last time is any indication, it’s going to take Luke at least a decade to figure this one out.”

“I’m going to need a lot of distractions.”

“Or one persistent one. You could fall in love too, you know.”

Mike peeked up at Shira, but she wasn’t talking about herself. “Anyone in mind?”

“Nobody yet. But bring them to me, when you find them, and I’ll tell you if you’re on the right track.”

“You’re going to screen my dates?” Yes, she was serious. Smiling at him, but smiling with that just-watch-me sort of expression.

“Not your dates, Meckil. Not your bed buddies. But the one you should fall in love with? Yes, I will screen them.”

“What if there isn’t anyone?”

“Oh, Mike. You have to start looking before you can decide you’re not going to find anyone.”

“Yes, ma’am.” What else was there to say?

next (and on LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/431453.html. You can comment here or there.

Moving Forward, a continuation of Wren/Nydia for the October Giraffe Call

Dec13

This is to [personal profile] rix_scaedu‘s commissioned continuation of
Love and Hospitality,
Graduation Plans,
and
Good Bones.

“No, I don’t think you understand.” Wren leaned forward over the table and tried not to pound on the table. Ladies do not throw tantrums in public. Ladies smile, and find out all their enemies’ weaknesses. Phelen had been full of good lessons. Massive control, but lots of good lessons. “We are not looking for someone who wants a nanny. We are not looking for someone who wants a mommy. We have our own children.”

“Look, if I’m going to top someone as a lifestyle, I expect them to cook and clean for me. I expect my subs to do as I tell them. That’s not being childish; that’s just the way I do things.”

He was slick as a snake and twice as scaly, although he was on the list as Faded. Nydia had gone silent next to Wren, and she understood the urge. She pursed her lips at the man.

“Then we are not interested.”

“You won’t find anyone else as skilled in this sort of thing as I am.”

Something about the way he argued made her want to argue back. “But it doesn’t matter how good of a plumber you are when we’re looking for an electrician.”

“If you truly knew what you wanted, you wouldn’t be in the market for a dom.” He reached over the table and touched Wren’s hand. She moved her hand away before he could press down.

“If you touch me without my permission ever again, I will ruin you faster than you can say ‘creepy old man.’ This interview is over. Thank you for your time.”

He stared at her. She wondered if anyone had ever said no to him before. She didn’t have time to baby him thorough this, though; Nydia was twitching next to her. “Good luck in your future endeavors.” She wasn’t very good at being authoritative, but she managed now, for the sake of the team. “Nydia. Come.”

It took her friend until they were in the car to realize what had happened. “Did you just…”

“You were frozen. He creeped you out?”

“Snake.” She curled up around her knees in the passenger seat. “If you hadn’t been there…”

“Hey, that’s why we’re a team. Come on, let’s go home. We’ve only got one more place to look at, and that’s not for another three hours.” And only two more people on Lady Maureen’s list. She didn’t want to have to write home and ask for another list. She wasn’t sure that would go over well.

There was a dead rabbit – no, a very well-tanned rabbit skin, head and all – and two jewelry boxes waiting in front of Wren & Nydia’s door. Not collars, she prayed, but Nydia was already opening one.

Not collars. Tennis bracelets, diamond tennis bracelets. Wren stared at the piece in surprise. “It’s your colors.”

“Bet the other one had brown stones. Rabbit skin?”

“Hey. It’s not a dead bird.” That probably would have freaked her out more. “Nyd… do you think it’s safe to bring the kids here?”

“Thresholds. Speaking of…” She unlocked the door and pushed Wren through.

“Only works on fae.” Wren grabbed Nydia’s arm and pulled her through anyway.

“Yeah, well, deadbolts and a steel door work pretty well on humans. Rabbit skin this time. He’s learning.”

“Why do you say he?” Wren closed the door and looked at the gifts.

“It’s just such a guy thing to do. So, where do we stand on our standings?” Nydia set the rabbit fur on a bookshelf, draping it over some piece of statuary she’d brought with her. “The buildings. That one next to the old factory?”

“That’s the best option so far. But I’m not sure about the other one, either. The one in the mall?” Wren stuck the brown tennis bracelet in her room. Where would she wear something like that?
“Meh. Too mall-y.” It was always a bit surprising when Nydia had opinions. “But at least we have options there.”

“The redhead…” Wren offered it up weakly, knowing it wasn’t going to work.

“The redhead was boring. Come on, the orders he came up with…”

“Were as bad as the creep today, I know.” She sat down in the big, comfy armchair. “I don’t know. I’m beginning to feel like Lady Maureen set us up for failure with these guys.”

“Why would she do that?”

“For a lesson, maybe? Or maybe she really likes one of the last two guys.” She glanced at her notes. “I’m not sure about that one. They’re likable-looking, but so was the snake today.”

“She doesn’t seem like she’d get something like that wrong. And she agreed with our plan.”

“That doesn’t mean that she thinks it will succeed.” The idea was beginning to sound more and more reasonable. Lady Maureen had wanted them to learn something. Maybe Maureen and DJ had gone in on it together. They could find a building that was almost perfect, and that would work out. But to find a boy who would be what they wanted – take them in hand without being overbearing, accept their collar without mooching, and be able to deal with their children without issue – that was beginning to seem impossible.

The phone ring cut across her moping like lightning through a grey sky. She scrambled for it, but Nydia picked it up first.

“Hello? Oh, yes. Yes, tomorrow at three, right. What? Ah, here, why don’t you talk to Wren?” Frowning, she passed the phone over.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Watson? This is Erwin Landero; I have an appointment with yourself and Miss Chatelle tomorrow at three? The Lady Maureen made the arrangements.”

“Yes.” She flipped open her appointment book. “Yes, we’re meeting at the Moon Beans Café.”

“I was hoping I could stop by today? I have a small pamphlet I’ve written up, and if you and Miss Chatelle had a chance to read it before we met, it would be wonderful.”

“Well, we won’t divulge our home address, but if you’d like to meet briefly at the Starbucks on the corner of Juniper and Clove, we could be there in forty-five minutes.”

“Thank you very much, and I understand the precautions. I’ll see you there. Juniper and Clove in forty-five minutes.”

“That’s interesting.” She hung up the phone and reached for her coat. “This one will either be a complete scum, or perfect.”
“So we’re taking the long way around the block, then?”

“I think we could use a little walk. And there’s that place on the corner we’ve been thinking about.”

She opened the door while Nydia got her coat. There, bending over to put something on their doormat, was the leanest, most feline-looking man she’d ever seen with a human face. He glanced up at her, dropped the thing – more chocolates – yelped, and ran away.

Wren could swear she saw him go halfway up the wall when he turned the corner.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/430424.html. You can comment here or there.

And Then

Dec9

This is mostly an intro to an idea (or a ship). Yoshi and Viddie are Cynara’s children; Kishmish is Shiva’s daughter by Nikita, Sigruko is Viddie’s half-sister on their father (Leo)’s side, and Ariel and Amy are 2 of Zita’s daughters.

Even the Boom family tree requires diagrams!

Yoshi was not certain what to think about Ce’Rilla sh’Orlaith.

He had, on meeting her, thought she was the sort of slightly stuck-up girl that he didn’t really need to bother with. But she was fiercely protective of her “younger brother,” Sam, a quality Yoshi could appreciate, and she navigated her first year with a grace he could envy.

Of course, that was her first year. He’d noticed her get Kept but not paid much attention, noticed her get released some time later, and noticed her get Kept again, some time later. It was the Addergoole soap opera (for those of them that could remember soap operas); everybody watched it.

That was Ce’Rilla’s first year. In her second year, she met Yoshi’s little brother.

–

Ce’rilla was not sure what to think about Yoshi cy’Drake.

She would probably have accepted his collar with more grace than she’d taken any of the collars she’d ended up with in her first year, she thought. He was handsome, cheerful, and polite, and the girl he kept Ce’Rilla’s first year seemed pretty happy with him, as much as someone could be happy being collared.

Other than that, she hadn’t either noticed or paid attention to the older boy. There were lots of older boys, and the ones that weren’t directly involved with her Keepers weren’t people she needed to worry about. Just getting through the year was proving tricky enough.

That was her first year. In her second year, she met Yoshi’s little brother.

–

Viðrou was pretty sure Sigruko and Yoshi, Kishmish and Amy and Ariel meant well. Well, he was certain about his brother and sister, and decently convinced that his cousins were trying to help him.

He knew that Yoshi’s first year had messed him up. He knew that Ruki had come back quiet and thoughtful about a lot of things. He knew it could be rough, and he knew, by now, that the rough usually involved a collar. And he knew all about collars.

He was pretty glad he had his big sister and big brother here (He could have gone either way with the cousins. They were some pretty scary women). He knew that having your family or crew at your back was the best bet, always.

And then he met Ce’Rilla cy’Valerian.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/428481.html. You can comment here or there.

Bound, a story of Addergoole Year 9 for the Giraffe Call

Nov30

To thesilentpoet‘s commissioned continuation of Catch and Formality, the story of Gregori and Speed.

Erotic domination, no sex, but nudity.

If I am going to continue to write these guys I really need a m/m d/s icon/

The kiss was every bit what Gregori had been hoping. So far, this boy was everything he’d been looking for. It seemed too good to be true.

While holding the boy up in the air by his collar was not the time to worry about that. Gregori didn’t want to have to explain asphyxiation to Caitrin before they’d gotten through the first day. It was nice to note, however, that Speed’s erection was not flagging.
He set his Kept down and stroked his hair. “You are my good boy.” He had learned, through trial and error with Damaris, how much good a little praise could do – and how much a lot of praise could do, too.

“Yes, Master.” From the expression on his face, his new boy was learning that, too. He was smiling beatifically, his eyes half-shut. “How may I be good for you next?”

“How obedient can you be?” He circled the boy once, looking at the position of his shoulders – back, proud – the tilt of his head – to one side and thoughtful – and the little smile on his lips. He hadn’t learned yet, how real this was going to be, or he thought he had a loophole. Gregori pondered how long he should let the waif remain misinformed.

“I can be as obedient as you want me to, master.” Speed’s eyes found Gregori’s, full of amused insolence. “Do you want me to fight so that you can punish me?” He caught his error in the barely-shown press together of Gregori’s lips. “I mean, of course, to give you an excuse, if you want one, to punish me. Master may of course punish his slave for anything he wants.”

“Thank you for the permission.” He made his voice dry enough that the boy actually looked worried for a second.

He ducked his head and shrugged his shoulders forward. “I only want to please, master.”

“And that pleases me, slave. So, I wish you to be obedient without orders to bind you. Do you think you can do that?”

The boy risked another glance at Gregori’s face. “I will try my best, master.”

“That will have to do for now.” He made it dismissive, to watch the boy’s flinch. He’d circled his new slave once and a half now; he grabbed the boy’s arms and pulled them behind his back, crossing his wrists just over that lovely ass. “You understand?”

“Yes, master.” He wiggled his butt a little, getting comfortable, his wrists staying as if pinned.

“That’s good.” He tossed a pillow from his bed onto the floor, and pushed the boy, gently, supporting his shoulders so his reflexes didn’t take over. Slowly, he pressed the boy’s head into the pillow, until his ass was high in the air, inviting. “Beautiful.” The wrists stayed where they were. “You are good.”

“Thank you, master.” It was harder to tell if he was being smug, in this position. His expression was pressed into the pillow and his voice was muffled. “I live to please you.”

“Good boy. My very good pet.” He spread Speed’s knees further apart, and then stood, walking away. He wanted to admire his new possession for a bit… and he wanted to watch him squirm.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/424131.html. You can comment here or there.

Formality

Nov19

To cluudle‘s commissioned continuation of Catch, the story of Gregori and Speed.

Erotic domination, no sex, but nudity.

“There’s a ritual to this.” And the ritual would not only allow him to regain control, it would remind his new Kept exactly what he was stepping into. “Take all of your clothing off. Put it in my laundry hamper.” He gestured lazily behind himself.

“Yes, master.” The boy didn’t look frightened. He didn’t look worried, or even concerned; he looked happy.

Happy would be a nice change, after Damaris’ crying. If it lasted. He stood, arms crossed over his chest, and watched the boy strip. T-shirt. Pants. Tank top under the t-shirt, covering a chest so skinny he could be on a Starving Children poster somewhere. Boxers under the pants, blue silk, revealing an erection nearly as big as the boy.

He was going to be an absolutely entertaining Keeper for someone, if he chose to top next year. Or the year after; Gregori still had two years here.

The socks were the last to go, and then the boy was brushing past him to drop all of his clothes into Gregori’s clothes hamper. “Very good. Kneel where you were standing.” He pointed at the floor in the place he wanted him, just for clarity, and watched the boy fold himself up as if he’d been born to kneel like that, his hands folded perfectly at the small of his back, his eyes on Gregori.

“Very good.” The boy was the hottest thing to slink into Gregori’s life. “You come to me naked, with nothing but your self. Everything you have, from this day until the day I release you, will come from my hands. Everything you give, you will give to me. Everything you are is mine.”

“I come into your hands naked.” Speed couldn’t have seen the ritual; he had to be making it up. He made it up beautifully. “I have nothing to give you but myself, and I give all of that to you. From now until you release me, everything I have is yours, and everything I receive will come from you.” He glanced up at Gregori through a fringe of hair. “And what does it please my master to give me?”

“First, your collar.” He circled the boy’s neck with his hands. He was skinny, skinny enough that Gregori’s hands fit with room to spare. And he shivered beautifully when Gregori pressed his fingers against his throat. “Meentik Unutu με Panida με Eperu kloiós.” He knew what he wanted, so it was easy enough to bring it into existence around his new Kept’s throat. A leather collar, a thick and wide one, with a single large ring dangling in the front and a smaller one pressed against the back of the boy’s neck. A collar with no closure, or, more importantly, no opening. This was not coming off until he wanted it to.

Let Luke chew on that.

“There.” He grabbed the ring in the front and tugged upwards, pulling the boy off his knees. “Now. To do things properly.”

Speed was dangling, not trying to put any weight on his feet. He had been ordered to kneel, after all. “Yes, my master?”

So delicious. Gregori was going to enjoy this one. “Kiss me.”

Next: Bound (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/421051.html. You can comment here or there.

Doug, 100 words, going out

Nov7

Summer between Years 8 and 9

"Go out," his father had said.

And, despite being a grown man, with grown sons of his own, Doug listened when his father told him something. Partially because Luca Hunting-Hawk had been a good but authoritative figure, but partially because his father was also his boss.

So he’d gone out. A three-week vacation at a place far in the hills. A "retreat" of a sort he could enjoy. Survivalism.

He could tell the women there expected him to be surprised to see them. They were tough women, sleek, pretty. He just smiled.

Doug knew all about tough, sleek, beautiful women.   

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/416859.html. You can comment here or there.

100 words each – Agatha after school, Baram at Thanksgiving

Oct31

For @KissofJudas and @AlphaRaposa’s requests.

End of Year 5 of the Addergoole School
Aggie smoothed her skirts and stared at her luggage. Her parents – her foster-parents, she now knew – had sent her a plane ticket, a train ticket, and a bus ticket. Dartmouth. There were worse places.

She glanced over at Tolly. He hadn’t picked up her suitcases yet. He hadn’t even said anything, since they left the school. “Anatoliy?” That voice always worked. Even since that mess.

He looked down at her, as if seeing her for the first time. “Good luck with your life, Agatha.” He stood up taller. “I won’t be part of it.”

For once, she had nothing to say.

~
November, Year 11 of the Addergoole School

(This is a prequel to the Baram’s-Elves stories)

“Going to celebrate Thanksgiving?”

The girl who worked the desk at the shop was chatty, always chatty, even with Baram. He shrugged at her. He didn’t bother smiling. Nobody thought it was friendly.

“That this week?”

She laughed, although she was smelling nervous. “Tomorrow. You really didn’t know?”

“Really.”

He stumped home, thinking about turkey. Squash. Smiling families. Not his thing, not for monsters.

There was a girl on his porch, a skinny girl with long reddish hair. Holding a suitcase. Not looking scared.

“Are you Baram?”

“Am.”

“I’m Jaelie, du’Briar Rose. I’ve heard about you.”

Baram tensed. The girl smiled. Smiled. “I’d like to work for you.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/414536.html. You can comment here or there.

What was Right

Oct28

This is a continuation of The July Linkback Story and its continuation here by [personal profile] rix_scaedu‘s commisioned request.

She thought it was right.

Bowen chewed over that while they went through the checkpoints – those were new, or maybe they were just there because they were entering through the Village and not through Luke’s elevator – and parked the car in front of the motel.

“Addergoole has a motel?”

“Addergoole has all sorts of things they don’t bother telling you about.” Phelen tilted his head at the tidy little two-story motel. “This thing. The crèche. The cake shop.”

“Crèche… no.” Bowen shook his head. “I don’t want to know.”

“Happens to guys here more often than you’d think.” Rozen wandered up beside them and doled out four room keys – actual keys, each with a room number painted on it.

“They get used as a turkey baster and dumped?”

Rozen snorted. “Lots do, here. And lots of women take off with the kids as soon as they can.”

“Addergoole isn’t exactly known for fostering loving long-term relationships.” Phelen was a mass of drippy shadows. Bowen glowered at him anyway.

“You got a pretty good deal out of it, didn’t you?”

“I did.” He clearly saw no point in arguing it. “But it’s not like I haven’t seem other people fuck up, or get fucked up.”

“Enough girl chat.” Baram laid a meaty hand on each of their backs. “She’s this way.”

Rozen followed their not-entirely-willing progress with a deep laugh. “That man has radar for pretty girls.”

“It’s Addergoole.” Even being shoved along the road, Bowen felt brave enough to try a joke. “Finding a pretty girl is mostly like ‘walk out door, point.’”

“Or just ‘point.’” Phelen was inordinately proud of himself. Just because he’d gotten a girl his first year – and his second year. Okay. Bowen would probably be proud of that, too.

“You got lucky, squid butt.” Rozen punched Phelen in the arm. Bowen had to be a little impressed at how much Phelen didn’t flinch. Being punched like Rozen was like being hit by a Mack truck.

“I got skills, Drow.”

“..what?”

“Nobody’s ever called you a dark elf before?”

“People don’t call me a fairy.”

“Kai.” Baram punched them both in the arm, which made both of them, it looked like, struggle not to flinch. Baram was the whole train. “Be fairies later.”

Rozen grumbled a few choice insults, but it looked like talking about Kailani was enough to shut him up. Bowen made a note of that. The big man had a weak spot.

“Everyone,” Professor Fridmar had taught him, “has weak spots. Trick is to learn where yours is, and guard. Not to not have weak spots. That would be stupid.”

Bowen had been determined never to be trapped again. He still was determined: nobody would ever collar him. Nobody would ever have that sort of power over his emotions, over his mind again. Nobody would ever cut his tail off again.

Professor Fridmar had given him quite a few words on the subject. “Don’t be rock. Rocks get broken. Be tree, bend.”

Bend. Bowen didn’t want to bend anymore.

“Come on, lambkins.” Rozen grabbed his shoulder, shaking him out of his memory. “Time to go. You can moon off at the scenery later.”

“I wasn’t…” He didn’t want to explain that to these guys. “Coming.”

The Village was as ridiculous as it has always looked.

Bowen didn’t get it. Regine and her people could have made it look like anything; they chose to go for as close to Norman Rockwell bullshit as they could. "Normal Americana." Right. They were anything like normal. They were even anything like human.

The motel was just off Main Street, with its little storefronts and its freaks pretending they were normal. Nobody Masked out here, not in the summer. There were no new kids to scare, nobody but the denizens of Freakville.

Bowen liked the word denizens. Professor VanderLinden had taught it to him, perhaps in an attempt to apologize for the monster that was its Student and Bowen’s Keeper. Professor VanderLinden had taught Bowen a lot – and Bowen had, for the first time, discovered he could enjoy English class.

Denizens. And any of another handful of words Aggie hadn’t thought to forbid.

"I wouldn’t have figured you for a space cadet. Reminiscing?" Phelen’s voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.

"Kinda." Bowen shrugged. "Guess it wasn’t all bad. Magic. Good teachers." Something like honesty compelled him to add, "Tolly and Dysmas weren’t all bad. They just wouldn’t do anything to stop her. ‘Just go along with what she wants and it’ll be easy.’" He shook his head. "Always wondered if she had some sort of mind control going. Couldn’t have been Keeping them, right, since Dysmas had Nydia and Tolly got collared? But maybe some sort of Working…?"

"People are sometimes loyal for really stupid reasons. Shiva being loyal to Ty, for example." Phelen shook his head. "I’m not saying it wasn’t magic, just that maybe it was just stupidity. We’ll see what Dysmas is like without her around." His shadows imitated a shrug. "What Shiva’s like, too."

"Hunh." Bowen wondered about that, but what was he going to say? Not his business, really.

"Are you two ladies having fun back there?" Rozen had plenty to say. Then again, Rozen always had plenty to say. "Come on, we’re almost there."

Rozen was a little funny about Kailani. Bowen had never seen the big guy looking that impatient, or that – it couldn’t be nervous. Rozen would never be nervous. Would he?

Baram, at least, just looked like Baram. And Phelen was back to looking like a creepy cloud of shadows. Bowen elbowed the shadow-mass. "The creepy look is totally going to ruin my thanks."

"Bah, it’ll just make it all the more cool." Phelen pulled the darkness back in, though. "You gonna try to make this good?"

"I dunno?" Bowen shrugged. "I mean, I gotta do it." He nodded his head at the impatient mass of Rozen ahead of them. "And she did…" Shrug. He didn’t like saying "she pulled my mutton out of the fire," but it was true.

"All right. Here’s what you do then. I might be cy’Fridmar, but I barely missed being cy’Drake, and you learn a lot about the formalities." Phelen continued in a low whisper as they walked across the Village.

It was formal all right. But Bowen knew, too, that it was the right thing to do. Like Kailani rescuing him because she thought it was the right thing. Like him helping her stop Aggie later, although that had been at least fifty percent revenge.

"Here we are." It was a pretty cottage, like most of the things here, made to look like something safe and innocuous – another VanderLinden word, innocuous – and human. This one had a moat, which was a little different, at least. And a wide wooden door with a lion’s-head knocker.

Maybe she wouldn’t answer. He knocked anyway. Some things, you really didn’t have any choice about.

Knocked, and then, when she opened the door, knelt on one knee. "Kailani cy’Regine, I owe you a debt of honor." The words were awkward, but they were right. "I owe you deeply, for the good you did me. I humbly request that you tell me what I can do to repay this."

He really didn’t expect her to start crying.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/413875.html. You can comment here or there.