"Ducks, hm?" The wizard smirks, coming up with an idea. "Well, most of the ducks that we see around here only stay for the summer. When it gets cold in the winter, it's harder for them to find food, and so they fly south, out of the mountains, where it's warmer and they have an easier time foraging. However, I think I know a few that might want to come out and play..."
It's a simple cantrip that he casts as he waves his hand over the water, causing a passel of purple-tinged ducks to come flying out of the pines and land gracefully on the water, paddling around and quacking merrily. They wander around in random directions, occasionally stopping to flap their wings or dive down to nip at the algae at the bottom of the pool. They're illusions, all of them, and they'll continue on their little random paths until redirected with a nudge or until he dispels them.
Suddenly, the toddler shrieks, and his hand is seized in a vice-like grip. At first he thinks something has gone horribly wrong, that Lee has gotten his foot twisted in the rocks or something, but the look on the boy's face is a mixture of disgust and glee, and he realizes what's happened.
Algae. It's been a problem since the pool's creation, and one that requires constant supervision. He can't stop it from growing completely, but he can clean it out with a spell every so often. Times have been busy lately, with preparing for winter and new arrivals keeping him occupied. He'll have to do a deep clean of it soon though, unless he wants the crystal-clear water to be green and cloudy come springtime.
"Careful, some of the rocks are a little slippery." He warns with a chuckle. "There aren't any fishes in the swimming hole, no. The water is too warm for them. But there are plenty in the river if you want to--"
Jonathan is interrupted by a sudden rush of water against his thigh, and a sly look from the toddler who still holds onto his hand with a death grip. He smirks back, and returns the splash, making sure to turn his hand so that it moves just enough water to wet the boy's front but not too much. No need to knock Lee over, especially with how unsteady he seems in the water. He's glad he decided to start them off here, in one of the shallow spots. Normally he would have doves straight off the outcropping over the deepest part of the pool, but today Lee's comfort is paramount.
It's a simple cantrip that he casts as he waves his hand over the water, causing a passel of purple-tinged ducks to come flying out of the pines and land gracefully on the water, paddling around and quacking merrily. They wander around in random directions, occasionally stopping to flap their wings or dive down to nip at the algae at the bottom of the pool. They're illusions, all of them, and they'll continue on their little random paths until redirected with a nudge or until he dispels them.
Suddenly, the toddler shrieks, and his hand is seized in a vice-like grip. At first he thinks something has gone horribly wrong, that Lee has gotten his foot twisted in the rocks or something, but the look on the boy's face is a mixture of disgust and glee, and he realizes what's happened.
Algae. It's been a problem since the pool's creation, and one that requires constant supervision. He can't stop it from growing completely, but he can clean it out with a spell every so often. Times have been busy lately, with preparing for winter and new arrivals keeping him occupied. He'll have to do a deep clean of it soon though, unless he wants the crystal-clear water to be green and cloudy come springtime.
"Careful, some of the rocks are a little slippery." He warns with a chuckle. "There aren't any fishes in the swimming hole, no. The water is too warm for them. But there are plenty in the river if you want to--"
Jonathan is interrupted by a sudden rush of water against his thigh, and a sly look from the toddler who still holds onto his hand with a death grip. He smirks back, and returns the splash, making sure to turn his hand so that it moves just enough water to wet the boy's front but not too much. No need to knock Lee over, especially with how unsteady he seems in the water. He's glad he decided to start them off here, in one of the shallow spots. Normally he would have doves straight off the outcropping over the deepest part of the pool, but today Lee's comfort is paramount.
The light that had been stolen from Lee's eyes when he lost Pa's connection returns in little increments, first sparking to life with the joyous arrival of friends who quack, then growing exponentially during the playful splashing contest (which he wins, in his own opinion.) Over time, his fearful steel grip loosens to merely that of a clingy crab pincher, then softens further to the clutch of a little boy who just likes holding hands for a sense of security.
Leaning away from Peepaw without disconnecting from him, Lee makes several attempts to pet the friendly ducks when they pass by, but they somehow always manage to slip through his fingers or paddle away just in time. He splashes lightly in their direction, not actually aiming at their bodies, but pretending the water droplets he 'feeds' them are barley and corn. Because the water is warm and pleasant, and because the ducks nibble at the surface as if they too believe he's really feeding them something of substance, this game lasts for a long time. He hardly even notices there's no smashing involved.
Lee's shoulders relax and his expression does, too. Even when his smile fades into something neutral, his contentment still glows through in the looser way he's carrying himself. Every now and then he glances up and encourages Peepaw to feed the ducks, too, because it's important. "Since they don't got enough to eat in winter time."
He doesn't want them to fly away south again.
"Does the snakes go south in the winter time, too? Mama hates them sneaky slitherers. She got bit by one when she was a little kid. I got bit by a red bug when I was a little kid and I cried an' cried 'cause I was just a baby. Did you ever get bit by things?"
Leaning away from Peepaw without disconnecting from him, Lee makes several attempts to pet the friendly ducks when they pass by, but they somehow always manage to slip through his fingers or paddle away just in time. He splashes lightly in their direction, not actually aiming at their bodies, but pretending the water droplets he 'feeds' them are barley and corn. Because the water is warm and pleasant, and because the ducks nibble at the surface as if they too believe he's really feeding them something of substance, this game lasts for a long time. He hardly even notices there's no smashing involved.
Lee's shoulders relax and his expression does, too. Even when his smile fades into something neutral, his contentment still glows through in the looser way he's carrying himself. Every now and then he glances up and encourages Peepaw to feed the ducks, too, because it's important. "Since they don't got enough to eat in winter time."
He doesn't want them to fly away south again.
"Does the snakes go south in the winter time, too? Mama hates them sneaky slitherers. She got bit by one when she was a little kid. I got bit by a red bug when I was a little kid and I cried an' cried 'cause I was just a baby. Did you ever get bit by things?"
Jonathan experiences no small amount of relief as he feels Lee grow gradually more comfortable with the situation. It makes him feel like he himself can relax a little bit more, like the boy is no longer at risk of flying into the forest at a moment's notice and being lost forever to the cold and unforgiving wilderness. And like he's less likely to drown immediately if he lets his guard down just a little bit.
He's content enough to play along with the boy's games, too, obediently tossing water droplets at the illusory ducks to 'feed' them. It's the most distracted from that morning's distress that he's seen Lee, and if this is what it takes to keep that peace, it's a small price to pay. He does eventually sink down into the water, though, crouching down so that most of his torso is submerged. The water may be warm, but the air around it is still freezing cold, and the heat feels nice on his old joints.
"Not quite." The wizard chuckles, imagining a mass reptile exodus similar to what's seen in migratory avians. "A lot of snakes slither into holes in the ground to sleep through the winter. It's called dormancy, and lots of creatures do it. Bears, for one, eat lots of fish in the autumn before they crawl into their dens so that their bellies are nice and full and they don't get hungry while they're sleeping..."
Jon drops into silence for a moment, seriously debating how much he should say about the boy's next question. It seems like a perfect opportunity to address everything that's happened since the Kendalls' arrival in his home, but there's no small part of him that balks at the idea of ruining this smoothed-over version of today they've built since the disruption they woke to. But he supposes the matter will need to be addressed sooner or later, preferably sooner, given Gable's current state.
Speaking of, he should check on him after lunch, if he can get away from Lee for a few minutes.
"Do you see these marks?" The wizard asks, holding out his forearm, where the wounds left by Gable's teeth are still visible, although by now they've all closed up into pink divots in his skin. "This is where your papa bit me."
He's content enough to play along with the boy's games, too, obediently tossing water droplets at the illusory ducks to 'feed' them. It's the most distracted from that morning's distress that he's seen Lee, and if this is what it takes to keep that peace, it's a small price to pay. He does eventually sink down into the water, though, crouching down so that most of his torso is submerged. The water may be warm, but the air around it is still freezing cold, and the heat feels nice on his old joints.
"Not quite." The wizard chuckles, imagining a mass reptile exodus similar to what's seen in migratory avians. "A lot of snakes slither into holes in the ground to sleep through the winter. It's called dormancy, and lots of creatures do it. Bears, for one, eat lots of fish in the autumn before they crawl into their dens so that their bellies are nice and full and they don't get hungry while they're sleeping..."
Jon drops into silence for a moment, seriously debating how much he should say about the boy's next question. It seems like a perfect opportunity to address everything that's happened since the Kendalls' arrival in his home, but there's no small part of him that balks at the idea of ruining this smoothed-over version of today they've built since the disruption they woke to. But he supposes the matter will need to be addressed sooner or later, preferably sooner, given Gable's current state.
Speaking of, he should check on him after lunch, if he can get away from Lee for a few minutes.
"Do you see these marks?" The wizard asks, holding out his forearm, where the wounds left by Gable's teeth are still visible, although by now they've all closed up into pink divots in his skin. "This is where your papa bit me."
"Huh?" Lee stops what he's doing to turn and give the bite marks his full attention. Hearing that they are, essentially, a part of his papa's life intrigues him and he finally releases Peepaw's hand in order to feel the pink divots for himself.
Much like when he had growled the words 'damn outlaws' and 'ugly mutie', Lee repeats another unfriendly phrase he's heard before, in exactly the same disdainful way it had been spoken about his father. "Dirty cur. What he do that for! Biting is not a accepdable way to…" He's forgotten whatever else Peepaw had said to him in the room with all the books, but he knows the old man thinks biting people isn't right. He smiles up at him a little, searching his face for signs of approval.
"Papa got bit, too." Lee indicates the middle of his own ribcage, where Pa had been bleeding long ago. He doesn't know why there are no scars there like what Peepaw is showing him, but he saw the bite fresh with his own eyes. Somberly he adds, "That's why Mama called him stupid."
Lee may be slightly more impervious to cold weather than most children his age, but even hunt bloods have limits in their skins. He sinks down into the warm water, too. It comes up to his chin and he breathes a little harder at first; the water lapping his neck and jaw could make him panicky, but he's determined not to be afraid, even though he's not holding anyone's hand right now. Besides, he's still thinking about what Mama had said.
"'Stupid dirty cur. You meant to get bit, didn't you? Get outta here and roll in some dung.'" Lee giggles nervously in spite of his mother's furious words. Saying it aloud, it's kind of funny. "Pa never rolled in dung afore! But I seen Mama spit pipe weed. It's really stinky."
The boy falls quiet for a little while as he mulls over the past and the present, trying to see how they fit together. Recalling the old man's words about the dangers of biting and being bitten, he frowns a little and presses himself up against Peepaw's side. "Are you gonna get sick, too?"
Much like when he had growled the words 'damn outlaws' and 'ugly mutie', Lee repeats another unfriendly phrase he's heard before, in exactly the same disdainful way it had been spoken about his father. "Dirty cur. What he do that for! Biting is not a accepdable way to…" He's forgotten whatever else Peepaw had said to him in the room with all the books, but he knows the old man thinks biting people isn't right. He smiles up at him a little, searching his face for signs of approval.
"Papa got bit, too." Lee indicates the middle of his own ribcage, where Pa had been bleeding long ago. He doesn't know why there are no scars there like what Peepaw is showing him, but he saw the bite fresh with his own eyes. Somberly he adds, "That's why Mama called him stupid."
Lee may be slightly more impervious to cold weather than most children his age, but even hunt bloods have limits in their skins. He sinks down into the warm water, too. It comes up to his chin and he breathes a little harder at first; the water lapping his neck and jaw could make him panicky, but he's determined not to be afraid, even though he's not holding anyone's hand right now. Besides, he's still thinking about what Mama had said.
"'Stupid dirty cur. You meant to get bit, didn't you? Get outta here and roll in some dung.'" Lee giggles nervously in spite of his mother's furious words. Saying it aloud, it's kind of funny. "Pa never rolled in dung afore! But I seen Mama spit pipe weed. It's really stinky."
The boy falls quiet for a little while as he mulls over the past and the present, trying to see how they fit together. Recalling the old man's words about the dangers of biting and being bitten, he frowns a little and presses himself up against Peepaw's side. "Are you gonna get sick, too?"
Jonathan can't help but chuckle, hearing the lad's recital of the words he had said just a few hours prior, with a few colorful variations, of course. It makes him sad to hear the things his mother had said, though, when Gable had come home infected. He wasn't familiar with married life himself, but it seemed like those were the sorts of things spouses shouldn't be saying to each other. Especially not in front of their shared child. But then again, Gabe had made it clear from the beginning that his spouse wasn't the sort of person to pull punches for either of their sakes.
He debates for a minute whether or not he should reach out and collect Lee to put him on his lap for a bit, but soon enough it doesn't matter, as the toddler sidles up to him and tucks himself under the wizard's arm. Jon gives his shoulders a squeeze and sighs, mulling over how he could answer this question. Because although it seems like a simple one, there are more beneath it that aren't outright asked.
"No, I will not get sick." Jon answers, scooping the boy into his lap and settling him against his chest, almost more for his own comfort than anything else. "I took some medicine to keep me from getting sick. It works very well when taken soon after people get bitten. But your papa waited too long before taking the medicine, and so now his body is having a hard time getting better."
He stares out over the surface of the pond, and can't help but wonder how this will all pan out. He knows Lee will be well-loved, and well cared for, in the event that Gabe does succumb to the poison he's inadvertently fed the man. But the hope that curls in his chest like a wounded animal in a burrow longs to share what he's experiencing right now, with Lee, with the boy's father. The three of them, together in the pool, Lee perched on Gabe's shoulders while the two of them battle Jon with water splashes and swimming chases...
He really hopes they can get to that point. Soon.
He debates for a minute whether or not he should reach out and collect Lee to put him on his lap for a bit, but soon enough it doesn't matter, as the toddler sidles up to him and tucks himself under the wizard's arm. Jon gives his shoulders a squeeze and sighs, mulling over how he could answer this question. Because although it seems like a simple one, there are more beneath it that aren't outright asked.
"No, I will not get sick." Jon answers, scooping the boy into his lap and settling him against his chest, almost more for his own comfort than anything else. "I took some medicine to keep me from getting sick. It works very well when taken soon after people get bitten. But your papa waited too long before taking the medicine, and so now his body is having a hard time getting better."
He stares out over the surface of the pond, and can't help but wonder how this will all pan out. He knows Lee will be well-loved, and well cared for, in the event that Gabe does succumb to the poison he's inadvertently fed the man. But the hope that curls in his chest like a wounded animal in a burrow longs to share what he's experiencing right now, with Lee, with the boy's father. The three of them, together in the pool, Lee perched on Gabe's shoulders while the two of them battle Jon with water splashes and swimming chases...
He really hopes they can get to that point. Soon.
Lee goes willingly into the wizard's arms when they reach out for him, and he curls warmly against the man's chest as though he had not considered him a sworn enemy just hours ago. He is finding it very difficult to know who his enemies really are, actually, because the people he wants to love are sometimes mean and confusing and the ones he wants to hate are mostly kind. And they all look like grown-ups.
There's a minute or so of silence before he admits solemnly, "Peepaw, I'm happy you taked your medicine. I'd be really sad if you got sick. I wouldn't cry, though. I'm almost five. I'm not gonna cry anymore when I'm five."
He's not exactly sure when his next year of life begins or when this one will end, but Pa said it was gonna happen real soon, so he should probably get himself ready for it now.
"Did you ever turn five before?"
Lee spends a long time being still and conversational in Peepaw's lap, but eventually boredom gets the better of him and he twists out of the old man's arms to fetch a few of his toys. Nasty Larry is chosen, of course, along with Zeppadoop the elephant and the mysterious gunslinger whose sole purpose in life is to be thwarted by Larry's dastardly ways. Peepaw is cast as the mountain lion. The elephant befriends it immediately and attempts to recruit it for the side of Evil.
"We got all the best foods!" claims Zeppadoop, in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Lee Kendall's, but much lower and croakier than normal.
"And toys!" chimes the pine dog, who was at one time the good gunslinger's sidekick, but then, inevitably, he defected to Larry's camp full of toys and food.
There's a minute or so of silence before he admits solemnly, "Peepaw, I'm happy you taked your medicine. I'd be really sad if you got sick. I wouldn't cry, though. I'm almost five. I'm not gonna cry anymore when I'm five."
He's not exactly sure when his next year of life begins or when this one will end, but Pa said it was gonna happen real soon, so he should probably get himself ready for it now.
"Did you ever turn five before?"
Lee spends a long time being still and conversational in Peepaw's lap, but eventually boredom gets the better of him and he twists out of the old man's arms to fetch a few of his toys. Nasty Larry is chosen, of course, along with Zeppadoop the elephant and the mysterious gunslinger whose sole purpose in life is to be thwarted by Larry's dastardly ways. Peepaw is cast as the mountain lion. The elephant befriends it immediately and attempts to recruit it for the side of Evil.
"We got all the best foods!" claims Zeppadoop, in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Lee Kendall's, but much lower and croakier than normal.
"And toys!" chimes the pine dog, who was at one time the good gunslinger's sidekick, but then, inevitably, he defected to Larry's camp full of toys and food.
"That's a noble effort you're intending to make, Lee." The wizard sighs and shakes his head, but there's a smile on his face. "But I'll warn you now, it's a very difficult task to take on. Tears are an important tool for expressing our emotions, like yelling or throwing things. The difference though, is that crying can make you feel better when it's over, whereas the other stuff can just make you more upset, and can hurt other people in the process. And you know what? Sometimes I still cry. And I'm a lot older than five..."
In fact, just a couple of weeks ago, he had wept like a baby when he realized Gabe had been right next to him as he was convalescing from his encounter with the floor, but he had been too out of it to properly apologize for frightening him, and reassure him that none of what happened was his fault. He had gotten the opportunity later, of course, but still.
"Oh yes, I did turn five once. But that was a very, very long time ago, and I don't remember much of it, aside from one thing." Jon pauses, a sly look on his face for effect. "My parents got me a very special present, or at least they told me it was special at the time. I didn't think so... It wasn't on the day I turned five, but a few months after, I got a baby brother."
Luckily, Lee gets bored of the conversation before he can ask too many invasive questions, and they turn to playing with his toys.
But even that doesn't last too long, and soon the two of them are reluctantly climbing out of the pool and into the chill air. Jon doesn't wait to dry them off, a cantrip on hand the second Lee is free of the water so that neither of them catch ill from the cold, and he helps the little rascal back into his clothes as well before donning his own.
The trek back indoors is quick, with Jonathan’s warm feet leaving barefooted imprints in the packed down snow they traverse, which turn into damp puddles left across the floor when they pass the front door. Lunchtime is in full swing, and the wizard has no issue finding Ari and Lorelei, sitting together, luckily. He drops Lee off with them, with a promise to come back later in the afternoon to check on him, ensuring he’s happily tucking in to a plate full of roast chicken and mashed potatoes before fluttering off upstairs and pointedly ignoring Ari calling after him to “Make sure to have something to eat!” and “For the love of the earth, put a shirt on!”
He only acknowledges her call with a wave of the hand before bounding up the stairs two at a time towards the third floor.
In fact, just a couple of weeks ago, he had wept like a baby when he realized Gabe had been right next to him as he was convalescing from his encounter with the floor, but he had been too out of it to properly apologize for frightening him, and reassure him that none of what happened was his fault. He had gotten the opportunity later, of course, but still.
"Oh yes, I did turn five once. But that was a very, very long time ago, and I don't remember much of it, aside from one thing." Jon pauses, a sly look on his face for effect. "My parents got me a very special present, or at least they told me it was special at the time. I didn't think so... It wasn't on the day I turned five, but a few months after, I got a baby brother."
Luckily, Lee gets bored of the conversation before he can ask too many invasive questions, and they turn to playing with his toys.
But even that doesn't last too long, and soon the two of them are reluctantly climbing out of the pool and into the chill air. Jon doesn't wait to dry them off, a cantrip on hand the second Lee is free of the water so that neither of them catch ill from the cold, and he helps the little rascal back into his clothes as well before donning his own.
The trek back indoors is quick, with Jonathan’s warm feet leaving barefooted imprints in the packed down snow they traverse, which turn into damp puddles left across the floor when they pass the front door. Lunchtime is in full swing, and the wizard has no issue finding Ari and Lorelei, sitting together, luckily. He drops Lee off with them, with a promise to come back later in the afternoon to check on him, ensuring he’s happily tucking in to a plate full of roast chicken and mashed potatoes before fluttering off upstairs and pointedly ignoring Ari calling after him to “Make sure to have something to eat!” and “For the love of the earth, put a shirt on!”
He only acknowledges her call with a wave of the hand before bounding up the stairs two at a time towards the third floor.
Lee listens patiently to the old man's lecture about emotions, but he doesn't seem to be fully buying it, and the look on his face is outright judgmental when Peepaw admits he cries sometimes, too. When he's a grown-up, he won't ever have to cry anymore. He'll be brave like Pa, who never cries.
His brows lift in interest and expectation to hear Peepaw's wisdom in regard to turning five years old. They drop again in disappointment, though, and he sighs. "I got a baby sister one time, but she weren't no gift. She been a secret. Mama buried her in the yard under some flowers. …I miss talking to her when I feel bad." Maybe he could pretend the baby (whom he had secretly named Pretty Girl, since Mama didn't want to give her a name,) is living in the flowers of Peepaw's greenhouse, now. That might help him more than crying.
Lee is endlessly impressed by the fact his body is dry without any towels when they've finished their time in the swimming hole. That was always the part he hated worst about bath time: still feeling sticky when Mama pulled on his clothes. It made him want to rip them right back off and go run around in the wind.
He's tired and warm and a bit sluggish from all the fun and leans heavily into Peepaw's neck on the walk back up to the house; he didn't even try to carry his toy sack himself this time. A big chicken lunch before nap time is exactly what his little body craves. Mouth stuffed with potatoes, hands full of cooked baby carrots, he manages to holler (to the hall's surprise and amusement) at the old man's back: "Seeya later, Peepaw!"
When the wizard arrives in the third floor chambers, Gable's body still looks very much like it did when he'd left it that morning, although it has lengthened and become girthier in new places while others have deflated. In those shrunken places, stretch marks zigzag like fingers of lightning. The elasticity of his skin is slow to return. For example, his face has come to resemble a young man again, but it sags a little, as though someone had held an open flame to it and caused it to melt.
Unburdened by the crushing pain that had obliterated his mind, Gabe sleeps in a vulnerable position like a starfish, where his bones can expand or contract without hindrance. His jaw is slack and he breathes deeply. But he isn't peaceful. His digits and limbs twitch almost constantly as, even unconscious, the poison won't let him find rest.
His brows lift in interest and expectation to hear Peepaw's wisdom in regard to turning five years old. They drop again in disappointment, though, and he sighs. "I got a baby sister one time, but she weren't no gift. She been a secret. Mama buried her in the yard under some flowers. …I miss talking to her when I feel bad." Maybe he could pretend the baby (whom he had secretly named Pretty Girl, since Mama didn't want to give her a name,) is living in the flowers of Peepaw's greenhouse, now. That might help him more than crying.
Lee is endlessly impressed by the fact his body is dry without any towels when they've finished their time in the swimming hole. That was always the part he hated worst about bath time: still feeling sticky when Mama pulled on his clothes. It made him want to rip them right back off and go run around in the wind.
He's tired and warm and a bit sluggish from all the fun and leans heavily into Peepaw's neck on the walk back up to the house; he didn't even try to carry his toy sack himself this time. A big chicken lunch before nap time is exactly what his little body craves. Mouth stuffed with potatoes, hands full of cooked baby carrots, he manages to holler (to the hall's surprise and amusement) at the old man's back: "Seeya later, Peepaw!"
When the wizard arrives in the third floor chambers, Gable's body still looks very much like it did when he'd left it that morning, although it has lengthened and become girthier in new places while others have deflated. In those shrunken places, stretch marks zigzag like fingers of lightning. The elasticity of his skin is slow to return. For example, his face has come to resemble a young man again, but it sags a little, as though someone had held an open flame to it and caused it to melt.
Unburdened by the crushing pain that had obliterated his mind, Gabe sleeps in a vulnerable position like a starfish, where his bones can expand or contract without hindrance. His jaw is slack and he breathes deeply. But he isn't peaceful. His digits and limbs twitch almost constantly as, even unconscious, the poison won't let him find rest.
"No change?" Jon's voice is hushed as he enters his quarters, spying Maddox pouring over the nest of paperwork he's collected around himself. The misshapen form of Gable Kendall still lies on his bed, made of wrong angles and wronger shapes.
"Well he hasn't improved, if that's what you mean." The redhead snarks, capping his inkwell and dropping his pen. "There've been plenty of changes. Limb length, head shape, the amount of hair on any given body part... but outside of that, no. Not much has changed."
"Hm." The wizard grunts, crossing the floor to Gabe's side. He's quick but thorough as he checks the boy over, ensuring that his breaths are at least coming in semi-regular intervals and that his heart doesn't seem to be struggling to move blood through his body as it changes shape. Everything seems as well as it can be, for the circumstances. "Have you given him another tablet?"
"Yes. He started stirring about an hour ago, but it... he was in pain, Jon. I hope you'll forgive me for not wanting him to suffer."
"No, no, you did fine, Madds, I would have done the same in your situation. It's important that we keep him comfortable, especially since it seems we can't do much else but wait right now. Comfort and hydration should be our primary concerns."
"I've tried getting him to sip from a spoon with mixed results. Most of it just ends up down his chin."
"As long as he gets some of it." The wizard sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, before deciding to perch on the edge of the bed. He takes one of Gabe's mangled hands in his, tracing the lines in his skin from stretching too far, too fast.
"How's Lee handling all of this?"
"Surprisingly well, actually. He threw some things and called me some nasty names, but with the power of ceremonial offerings including an apple tart, a new toy, and a trip to the swimming hole complete with illusory ducks, I do believe he's come around. He's even given me a new title."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
"Peepaw."
"Peepaw?"
"Yes, Maddox. Peepaw. Were you not listening?"
"No I was, it's just..."
"Yes?"
"Absurd."
The wizard snorts. He doesn't mind. Even if it is absurd, if it helps the lad process, he can't really complain too much. Besides, it isn't hurting anybody.
While Maddox grumbles away about the things children say, Jonathan busies himself with trying to figure out a way to get Gable's body to condense itself down into one form. Human or wolf, he doesn't care much which it is, although human will be easier to communicate with when he wakes up. If he wakes up.
He tries to emulate what happened out in the woods, when he had let loose a torrent of magic and Gabe had snapped into his human body like a whip. He starts slow, feeding a little bit of arcane energy into the boy where their hands meet. The form of his arm wavers, contorting down into a more human-shaped version, and Jon doubles down. It seems to solidify, then just as he eases off the pressure, his flesh contorts back into the misshapen claw-hand of before.
It seems like he's on the right track. There's just something missing...
"Well he hasn't improved, if that's what you mean." The redhead snarks, capping his inkwell and dropping his pen. "There've been plenty of changes. Limb length, head shape, the amount of hair on any given body part... but outside of that, no. Not much has changed."
"Hm." The wizard grunts, crossing the floor to Gabe's side. He's quick but thorough as he checks the boy over, ensuring that his breaths are at least coming in semi-regular intervals and that his heart doesn't seem to be struggling to move blood through his body as it changes shape. Everything seems as well as it can be, for the circumstances. "Have you given him another tablet?"
"Yes. He started stirring about an hour ago, but it... he was in pain, Jon. I hope you'll forgive me for not wanting him to suffer."
"No, no, you did fine, Madds, I would have done the same in your situation. It's important that we keep him comfortable, especially since it seems we can't do much else but wait right now. Comfort and hydration should be our primary concerns."
"I've tried getting him to sip from a spoon with mixed results. Most of it just ends up down his chin."
"As long as he gets some of it." The wizard sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, before deciding to perch on the edge of the bed. He takes one of Gabe's mangled hands in his, tracing the lines in his skin from stretching too far, too fast.
"How's Lee handling all of this?"
"Surprisingly well, actually. He threw some things and called me some nasty names, but with the power of ceremonial offerings including an apple tart, a new toy, and a trip to the swimming hole complete with illusory ducks, I do believe he's come around. He's even given me a new title."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
"Peepaw."
"Peepaw?"
"Yes, Maddox. Peepaw. Were you not listening?"
"No I was, it's just..."
"Yes?"
"Absurd."
The wizard snorts. He doesn't mind. Even if it is absurd, if it helps the lad process, he can't really complain too much. Besides, it isn't hurting anybody.
While Maddox grumbles away about the things children say, Jonathan busies himself with trying to figure out a way to get Gable's body to condense itself down into one form. Human or wolf, he doesn't care much which it is, although human will be easier to communicate with when he wakes up. If he wakes up.
He tries to emulate what happened out in the woods, when he had let loose a torrent of magic and Gabe had snapped into his human body like a whip. He starts slow, feeding a little bit of arcane energy into the boy where their hands meet. The form of his arm wavers, contorting down into a more human-shaped version, and Jon doubles down. It seems to solidify, then just as he eases off the pressure, his flesh contorts back into the misshapen claw-hand of before.
It seems like he's on the right track. There's just something missing...
Lee forgoes his usual kip in favor of spending a quiet moment in Lorelei's lap. The two of them remain curled up on a lunch hall chair long after the meal is over, with the young maid's arms circled about the wee lad, and Lee's head draped in the crook of her arm almost like an infant. She practices her needlework by first mending a tear in her apron and then embroidering some ivy over it. Although she hums softly and rocks side to side, Lee remains largely resistant to her 'spell' but he does seem more relaxed than usual. His sleepy eyes bat slowly and he watches her face while she works.
The peaceful time comes to an explosive end, however, at the Master's arrival. Lee reanimates like a rose under a quickening charm and wiggles free to wheel across the room, squealing with delight. "Your guitar! Can I play it? Can I play it, Peepaw, please? Pleeeease? Teach me how to!"
Lorelei folds up her work and sets it aside to get to her feet and curtsy.
"Will you be attending tae the laddie again, sir? if you dinnae mind my going, I have a bit of work I've fallen behind on… Lovely thing, bairns, but they take a lot of time!" Especially ones as traumatized and clinging as sweet Lee. And who better for him to cling to than the retired mage who's got all the freedom and resources in the world to raise him? She hadn't intended to become a nanny to begin with, but she certainly isn't keen to become the boy's mother if things turn badly with his real parent.
Speaking of which... Lorelei makes a subtle gesture to the ceiling to indicate the third floor and quirks her brow. When the sign language the man returns is not favorable, she frowns sympathetically. "I'm sorry tae hear that. Bye for now, Lee. See you both tonight. Sir."
The peaceful time comes to an explosive end, however, at the Master's arrival. Lee reanimates like a rose under a quickening charm and wiggles free to wheel across the room, squealing with delight. "Your guitar! Can I play it? Can I play it, Peepaw, please? Pleeeease? Teach me how to!"
Lorelei folds up her work and sets it aside to get to her feet and curtsy.
"Will you be attending tae the laddie again, sir? if you dinnae mind my going, I have a bit of work I've fallen behind on… Lovely thing, bairns, but they take a lot of time!" Especially ones as traumatized and clinging as sweet Lee. And who better for him to cling to than the retired mage who's got all the freedom and resources in the world to raise him? She hadn't intended to become a nanny to begin with, but she certainly isn't keen to become the boy's mother if things turn badly with his real parent.
Speaking of which... Lorelei makes a subtle gesture to the ceiling to indicate the third floor and quirks her brow. When the sign language the man returns is not favorable, she frowns sympathetically. "I'm sorry tae hear that. Bye for now, Lee. See you both tonight. Sir."
With Gable's comfort assured and little else he can do to improve the man's condition, Jonathan reluctantly leaves the third floor, but not before confirming that, yes, Maddox had eaten, Ari brought him a tray earlier, and also remembering that he promised Lee a song on the mandolin. So he does make sure to grab the instrument on the way out the door, slinging it over his shoulder by the strap. Oh, and putting a shirt on, at the redhead's behest, and changing his pants, seeing as Lee's teeth wore a hole in the ones he was wearing, and donning a fresh silky robe as well.
When he sees Lee curled up in Lorelei's arms in the dining hall, he almost tiptoes right back out, but then the toddler catches sight of him, and he's up like a crocus in march. The wizard chuckles, dropping down to scoop the boy up in his arms and perch him on his hip while he talks things out with the lad's sitter.
"Yes, yes, I can teach you a bit when we get to the library. Though you'll have to grow a bit more before you're big enough to play it by yourself." He promises with a nod, just before turning to Lorelei. "Yes, we had quite an active morning, so I'm thinking a quiet afternoon in the library might be in order."
His face falls at her subtle gestures, though, and he shakes his head somberly. Things are... tenuous right now, with Gable. He could bounce back fairly quickly once the silver leaves his body. If it leaves his body. Or it could still kill him. Or he might be stuck like this forever until he wastes away from malnourishment. It's too early to tell, but for right this minute, things don't look good.
"Right, then, library?" The wizard suggests, his cheerful mien immediately dropping back into place as he adjust's Lee's weight to keep the boy from putting pressure on the bruises he acquired falling out of bed that morning. "We can play some music, read some stories, maybe build a pillow fort, whatever you like."
Jon totes the boy down the corridor, along the balcony that looks out over the entry hall, and into that blessedly quiet space full of books and comforts and bright open windows. He sets Lee down near the sofa when they get there, then drops down to sit on the floor crosslegged, patting his lap and inviting the toddler to join him while he swings the mandolin around.
"Music first?"
When he sees Lee curled up in Lorelei's arms in the dining hall, he almost tiptoes right back out, but then the toddler catches sight of him, and he's up like a crocus in march. The wizard chuckles, dropping down to scoop the boy up in his arms and perch him on his hip while he talks things out with the lad's sitter.
"Yes, yes, I can teach you a bit when we get to the library. Though you'll have to grow a bit more before you're big enough to play it by yourself." He promises with a nod, just before turning to Lorelei. "Yes, we had quite an active morning, so I'm thinking a quiet afternoon in the library might be in order."
His face falls at her subtle gestures, though, and he shakes his head somberly. Things are... tenuous right now, with Gable. He could bounce back fairly quickly once the silver leaves his body. If it leaves his body. Or it could still kill him. Or he might be stuck like this forever until he wastes away from malnourishment. It's too early to tell, but for right this minute, things don't look good.
"Right, then, library?" The wizard suggests, his cheerful mien immediately dropping back into place as he adjust's Lee's weight to keep the boy from putting pressure on the bruises he acquired falling out of bed that morning. "We can play some music, read some stories, maybe build a pillow fort, whatever you like."
Jon totes the boy down the corridor, along the balcony that looks out over the entry hall, and into that blessedly quiet space full of books and comforts and bright open windows. He sets Lee down near the sofa when they get there, then drops down to sit on the floor crosslegged, patting his lap and inviting the toddler to join him while he swings the mandolin around.
"Music first?"
"Pillow fawt?" Lee only has the vaguest understanding of what that could mean. It must have something to do with pillows, of course, but… what's so fun about pillows? Songs and stories, though, that's speaking his language.
Once his feet have touched down on the library floor, the boy appears to spontaneously combust. He takes off in whatever direction he is already facing and gallops a lap around the whole room chanting, "Guh-tar! Guh-tar! Guh-tar!"
His excitement for the idea of the activity is only matched by his breathless delight for the activity itself. At the wizard's gesture, he careens back into Peepaw's orbit at a dangerous speed, seemingly with all the force and disregard of a hurricane barreling down on inhabited land. But he trips over himself at the last moment, falling hard on his knees and hands blessedly shy of the mandolin.
Lee is silent for a moment, as if absorbing what just happened. He looks startled. Wide-eyed, uncertain, clearly hurting... But he remembers his big boy vow. He sits back on his heels and gingerly pats his throbbing hands on his pants with a self-pitying whimper. His lower lip trembles, his eyes glisten, but he's a brave boy. He won't let the tears slip.
Enthusiasm diminished, but not defeated, he eases himself into Peepaw's lap, then offers his bright red splotchy palms for make-it-better kisses. Lee falls into a more subdued mood after that and pays close attention to his music lesson. He's a good student, actually; eager to please—and to do it by himself—he takes criticism well and listens to instruction. He's careful with the instrument and plucks the strings without making them twang aggressively. When it comes to the point that he realizes they're actually making music and not just random noises, he tips his head back and smiles brilliantly at Peepaw like he's the sun, moon, and stars.
Once his feet have touched down on the library floor, the boy appears to spontaneously combust. He takes off in whatever direction he is already facing and gallops a lap around the whole room chanting, "Guh-tar! Guh-tar! Guh-tar!"
His excitement for the idea of the activity is only matched by his breathless delight for the activity itself. At the wizard's gesture, he careens back into Peepaw's orbit at a dangerous speed, seemingly with all the force and disregard of a hurricane barreling down on inhabited land. But he trips over himself at the last moment, falling hard on his knees and hands blessedly shy of the mandolin.
Lee is silent for a moment, as if absorbing what just happened. He looks startled. Wide-eyed, uncertain, clearly hurting... But he remembers his big boy vow. He sits back on his heels and gingerly pats his throbbing hands on his pants with a self-pitying whimper. His lower lip trembles, his eyes glisten, but he's a brave boy. He won't let the tears slip.
Enthusiasm diminished, but not defeated, he eases himself into Peepaw's lap, then offers his bright red splotchy palms for make-it-better kisses. Lee falls into a more subdued mood after that and pays close attention to his music lesson. He's a good student, actually; eager to please—and to do it by himself—he takes criticism well and listens to instruction. He's careful with the instrument and plucks the strings without making them twang aggressively. When it comes to the point that he realizes they're actually making music and not just random noises, he tips his head back and smiles brilliantly at Peepaw like he's the sun, moon, and stars.
“Oh dear…” Jon mutters, seeing the toddler tumble right in front of him. He reaches out, offering a hand to hold, but Lee is very brave as he picks himself up off the floor and dusts off his reddened palms. “Come here, Lee, you’re alright.”
It takes him a minute to figure out what the child wants when he raises his palms up to him. This is one part of toddler husbandry that does not come as naturally to him. Feeding, clothing, bathing, even keeping the lad happy and entertained have all been incredibly easy, surprisingly enough. But comforting… that takes him a bit. Old, long-buried memories of knees skinned on rough beach rocks, of delicate fingers brushing over the wound, a soft voice soothing the hurt away with platitudes and a make-it-better kiss. With no small amount of caution, and a good deal of reluctance, Jon does his best to mimic these motions, placing a gentle kiss on first one hand, then the other.
“Now, we’ll start with how to hold the instrument,” he says, once Lee has had a moment to settle. Jon teaches the boy where to put his hands, how to hold his fingers, but he was quite right in his prior estimate: Lee’s little arms are simply too short to hold and play the thing on his own. So he has the toddler man the strumming side, while he handles the chords and notes proper. Only once he’s mastered plucking the strings without making a horrible noise does the wizard start changing the notes, and eventually they manage to pick out a crude and messy version of the tune he had played for the two Kendall’s down in the bunker.
“Excellent work, Lee.” Jon beams down at the toddler once they finish the piece. It was a tad rocky, but not bad for being split between two brains, one of them being only four (almost five) years old. “I’d say you’ve got the makings of a bard in you somewhere. If you practice lots, you could even play music and sing for a living someday. Travel the world, see beautiful and wondrous things, and write songs about them. I have a friend who did that for many years. In fact he uses his music as a conduit for magic. When he sings, his voice is so rich and powerful that you feel like you’re in the story he’s telling!”
It takes him a minute to figure out what the child wants when he raises his palms up to him. This is one part of toddler husbandry that does not come as naturally to him. Feeding, clothing, bathing, even keeping the lad happy and entertained have all been incredibly easy, surprisingly enough. But comforting… that takes him a bit. Old, long-buried memories of knees skinned on rough beach rocks, of delicate fingers brushing over the wound, a soft voice soothing the hurt away with platitudes and a make-it-better kiss. With no small amount of caution, and a good deal of reluctance, Jon does his best to mimic these motions, placing a gentle kiss on first one hand, then the other.
“Now, we’ll start with how to hold the instrument,” he says, once Lee has had a moment to settle. Jon teaches the boy where to put his hands, how to hold his fingers, but he was quite right in his prior estimate: Lee’s little arms are simply too short to hold and play the thing on his own. So he has the toddler man the strumming side, while he handles the chords and notes proper. Only once he’s mastered plucking the strings without making a horrible noise does the wizard start changing the notes, and eventually they manage to pick out a crude and messy version of the tune he had played for the two Kendall’s down in the bunker.
“Excellent work, Lee.” Jon beams down at the toddler once they finish the piece. It was a tad rocky, but not bad for being split between two brains, one of them being only four (almost five) years old. “I’d say you’ve got the makings of a bard in you somewhere. If you practice lots, you could even play music and sing for a living someday. Travel the world, see beautiful and wondrous things, and write songs about them. I have a friend who did that for many years. In fact he uses his music as a conduit for magic. When he sings, his voice is so rich and powerful that you feel like you’re in the story he’s telling!”
Peepaw could have licked Lee's hands and Lee wouldn't have thought it was odd behavior. But he's very pleased with the gentle kisses he receives, and he takes a moment to examine each paw before nodding in satisfaction. "All better."
Recognizing the song they're playing together helps a great deal in keeping the boy engaged. He begins to hum along, sounding out the next note and the next before Peepaw has even found them on the fretboard. Sometimes he plucks which string he thinks will sound like the song instead of the one Peepaw tells him to, and sometimes he just plucks the strings that he likes best and makes up his own diddy for a little while before becoming receptive to instruction again. He's surprised when the song is over. Why do songs have endings, anyway? Couldn't they go on forever?
Lee positively glows under his grandpa's praises. It makes him very happy he adopted the wizard as his own; he's a much friendlier playmate than G'pa Eustace.
Lee is not entirely sure what a 'bard' is, but it sounds like a bird, and if it's something that sings, then it must be pretty similar! Being a bird sounds like a great job. "Yeah! I'm gonna do that when I'm five. Let's practice some more and we can sing to Pa and make him all better with our magic. I got yots of magic, Peepaw, look! Pssshhhh plllbbbb fffffft! Pew pew! Pew!"
Spit—a lot of spit—graces the mandolin with a fine rain as Lee wiggles his fingers at it in a very magical-looking way. Fortunately for everyone involved, nothing happens except for a chin full of saliva and the joyous giggling of a very happy child.
-
Far away from this cozy little scene, in the dying light of late afternoon, a man strides past the first ward of the estate and shudders with a grin. That's some powerful magic.
"Who have you made friends with this time, Orsino?"
On the long and winding pathway that carries him to the house proper, bars of sunlight bleed all over the pure white snow between rows of sinister black pines. It's quite dramatic. Breathtakingly so. He approves of Nature's flair, but otherwise feels no draw to the oppressive silence of the wilderness all around him. Cities with bustling bodies, bustling bars, and sleepless nights are much more his style. The kind of stillness in these hills is stagnant; complacent; it practically begs for a little chaos. The kind of change brought on by mudslides, or forest fires, or… an avalanche. Now there's a metaphor fit for the season.
He freezes at the sound of horse's hooves crunching snow a way off, instantly becoming as still as the thin pine trunks all around him. The reverberating effect of the bark isn't helpful in determining the beast's exact location, so he remains perfectly still while he waits for it to appear, without venting any steam from breathing. In fact, he isn't breathing at all.
When a lanky redheaded man and a bay come into view, Allerick snorts to himself. No wonder all the house's efforts have been poured into the security system if this boy is the estate's guardian.
"Buon pomeriggio, signore." In the same way a gilded frame surrounds a celebrated work of art, Allerick's smile proudly displays his most valuable possession: two sets of gleaming fangs. He has no horse, no vehicle, no belongings other than the clothes he wears and a small blade tucked casually into the back of his belt. His slicked hair brushes his shoulders; it's as black and glossy as snake scales, and he monitors the world through eyes pale as lightning. His bespoke suit fits as naturally as one hand clasping another, giving the impression he might have been born exactly how he stands today: fully formed and sharp as a knife. Only his voice is soft as silk, every word as pleasing as hearing one's own name spoken by a loved one.
"I've come to see your master, Jonathan Eris? I'd like to buy my brother's freedom from this place and pay for any debts he has incurred. If he is in good condition, I would even like to leave your master with a gift of thanks for his trouble." Allerick pulls a bloated coin purse from his belt to illustrate his sincerity. "Gable Lucarelle. Or, perhaps you know him by Kendall, if he's being sentimental. Is he here?"
Recognizing the song they're playing together helps a great deal in keeping the boy engaged. He begins to hum along, sounding out the next note and the next before Peepaw has even found them on the fretboard. Sometimes he plucks which string he thinks will sound like the song instead of the one Peepaw tells him to, and sometimes he just plucks the strings that he likes best and makes up his own diddy for a little while before becoming receptive to instruction again. He's surprised when the song is over. Why do songs have endings, anyway? Couldn't they go on forever?
Lee positively glows under his grandpa's praises. It makes him very happy he adopted the wizard as his own; he's a much friendlier playmate than G'pa Eustace.
Lee is not entirely sure what a 'bard' is, but it sounds like a bird, and if it's something that sings, then it must be pretty similar! Being a bird sounds like a great job. "Yeah! I'm gonna do that when I'm five. Let's practice some more and we can sing to Pa and make him all better with our magic. I got yots of magic, Peepaw, look! Pssshhhh plllbbbb fffffft! Pew pew! Pew!"
Spit—a lot of spit—graces the mandolin with a fine rain as Lee wiggles his fingers at it in a very magical-looking way. Fortunately for everyone involved, nothing happens except for a chin full of saliva and the joyous giggling of a very happy child.
-
Far away from this cozy little scene, in the dying light of late afternoon, a man strides past the first ward of the estate and shudders with a grin. That's some powerful magic.
"Who have you made friends with this time, Orsino?"
On the long and winding pathway that carries him to the house proper, bars of sunlight bleed all over the pure white snow between rows of sinister black pines. It's quite dramatic. Breathtakingly so. He approves of Nature's flair, but otherwise feels no draw to the oppressive silence of the wilderness all around him. Cities with bustling bodies, bustling bars, and sleepless nights are much more his style. The kind of stillness in these hills is stagnant; complacent; it practically begs for a little chaos. The kind of change brought on by mudslides, or forest fires, or… an avalanche. Now there's a metaphor fit for the season.
He freezes at the sound of horse's hooves crunching snow a way off, instantly becoming as still as the thin pine trunks all around him. The reverberating effect of the bark isn't helpful in determining the beast's exact location, so he remains perfectly still while he waits for it to appear, without venting any steam from breathing. In fact, he isn't breathing at all.
When a lanky redheaded man and a bay come into view, Allerick snorts to himself. No wonder all the house's efforts have been poured into the security system if this boy is the estate's guardian.
"Buon pomeriggio, signore." In the same way a gilded frame surrounds a celebrated work of art, Allerick's smile proudly displays his most valuable possession: two sets of gleaming fangs. He has no horse, no vehicle, no belongings other than the clothes he wears and a small blade tucked casually into the back of his belt. His slicked hair brushes his shoulders; it's as black and glossy as snake scales, and he monitors the world through eyes pale as lightning. His bespoke suit fits as naturally as one hand clasping another, giving the impression he might have been born exactly how he stands today: fully formed and sharp as a knife. Only his voice is soft as silk, every word as pleasing as hearing one's own name spoken by a loved one.
"I've come to see your master, Jonathan Eris? I'd like to buy my brother's freedom from this place and pay for any debts he has incurred. If he is in good condition, I would even like to leave your master with a gift of thanks for his trouble." Allerick pulls a bloated coin purse from his belt to illustrate his sincerity. "Gable Lucarelle. Or, perhaps you know him by Kendall, if he's being sentimental. Is he here?"
"Whoa, hold on, let's not be casting such powerful spells indoors, now." Jonathan can't help but grimace at the lovely shower of moisture his beloved instrument receives. Lee is a treasure, but he's still quick to wipe up the mess with his sleeve, turning immediately after to do the same to the toddler's chin. "Wouldn't want to light any of these lovely books on fire by accident, now would we?"
If Lee responds, though, the wizard doesn't immediately hear it. A sharp ping in the back of his mind grabs his attention, of the same sort he felt when the Kendall's came up the road almost a month ago. Someone is on their way here, someone unfamiliar. Maddox or Ari or even Tehani he would recognize, but this is a stranger and they feel... odd. Something isn't quite right about them, and it sets him immediately on edge. Or perhaps it is Blackstaff who is on edge, and he is only catching her emotions. Either way, it doesn't bode well.
"Lee, do you want to do some practicing on your own for a minute?" He asks, trying to keep the tension out of his voice and offering the mandolin to the boy. "Remember how I taught you to hold it. Just work on plucking out notes and making them sound nice, yeah? The more you do it, the prettier they'll sound, and the faster you'll be a famous bard. I have to go talk to Mr. Rex for a moment, but I'll be right back."
He spares the toddler a wink as he stands, heading for the door with all the calm of a lake on a summer's day. But that calm evaporates the second he's on the other side of the door. Blackstaff appears in his hand, practically thrumming with anticipation as he ascends the steps to the third floor. Things in his quarters are much as he left them, with Maddox at the table, still buried in as much paperwork as he was previously, and Gable still solidly unconscious on the bed. The redhead looks more than a little taken aback, seeing the severe expression his uncle wears, coupled with his legendary staff in-hand.
"Everything alright, Jon?" He asks, knowing the answer will be no as he caps his inkwell.
"There's someone coming up the road. I don't recognize them." The wizard announces as he heads for the wardrobe. If there are going to be guests, unfamiliar guests at that, he should probably look a bit more presentable than he currently stands, with his bare feet and casual comfort-clothes. "Would you mind riding out to meet them? They don't feel like the sort to be left to wander my property unattended."
"Dangerous?" Maddox frowns, rising from his chair and sparing a glance toward Gable's unconscious form, a gaze which Jon follows.
"I... I think Gabe will be fine for a while unattended." The older man pronounces reluctantly, as though the very act of saying the words will doom the very opposite to occur. But then he shakes his head, and fishes a more complex set of robes out of the wardrobe. They're a deep forest green with silver knots embroidered at the hems, complex layers of fine silks in different shades and finer enchantments that should serve to bolster his skills, if this guest does prove to be hostile. They're still cut in the shorter, practical style he prefers, only coming to his knees, and so he dons some simple brown trousers and his favorite riding boots as well. "I'm not sure if they're dangerous or not. I don't think they intend to be outright harmful, otherwise the wards would have turned them away. Just... be cautious. Take your sword. I'll do my best to intervene if things go poorly."
The redhead nods, barely hearing his uncle say that he'll wait for him in the library before he's out the door and headed out to the stables. Timber is there, sticking his head out of his stall and whinnying at him for attention the second he sets foot in the aisle. Frost is too, but the stallion is less insistent. Maddox isn't offended, though. He knows how close the cremello is with Jon. In a short handful of minutes, he has the bay saddled and ready to go, and the two trot out into the snowy forest.
The road has gotten worse in the past couple days, but that's to be expected this time of year. Whoever is coming up the road must be truly desperate, then...
He isn't expecting to find a rather well-dressed man traveling alone, and on foot no less, but that is exactly the individual he happens upon. The man is positively dripping with charisma, and it makes Maddox bristle. 'Too sweet to be savory,' was the saying they had back home for people like this. Jonathan's gut was right, it seems. Caution, above all else, is warranted.
"Well met." He nods a greeting while Timber paws at the snow. "I am Maddox Rex, chief of staff for Master Eris's estate. I'm afraid Mr. Kendall isn't available at the moment, but I'd be happy to bring you up to the house to meet with Master Eris, Mr. ...?"
He drags the last syllable out, an unspoken question: Who are you, and why are you really here?
If Lee responds, though, the wizard doesn't immediately hear it. A sharp ping in the back of his mind grabs his attention, of the same sort he felt when the Kendall's came up the road almost a month ago. Someone is on their way here, someone unfamiliar. Maddox or Ari or even Tehani he would recognize, but this is a stranger and they feel... odd. Something isn't quite right about them, and it sets him immediately on edge. Or perhaps it is Blackstaff who is on edge, and he is only catching her emotions. Either way, it doesn't bode well.
"Lee, do you want to do some practicing on your own for a minute?" He asks, trying to keep the tension out of his voice and offering the mandolin to the boy. "Remember how I taught you to hold it. Just work on plucking out notes and making them sound nice, yeah? The more you do it, the prettier they'll sound, and the faster you'll be a famous bard. I have to go talk to Mr. Rex for a moment, but I'll be right back."
He spares the toddler a wink as he stands, heading for the door with all the calm of a lake on a summer's day. But that calm evaporates the second he's on the other side of the door. Blackstaff appears in his hand, practically thrumming with anticipation as he ascends the steps to the third floor. Things in his quarters are much as he left them, with Maddox at the table, still buried in as much paperwork as he was previously, and Gable still solidly unconscious on the bed. The redhead looks more than a little taken aback, seeing the severe expression his uncle wears, coupled with his legendary staff in-hand.
"Everything alright, Jon?" He asks, knowing the answer will be no as he caps his inkwell.
"There's someone coming up the road. I don't recognize them." The wizard announces as he heads for the wardrobe. If there are going to be guests, unfamiliar guests at that, he should probably look a bit more presentable than he currently stands, with his bare feet and casual comfort-clothes. "Would you mind riding out to meet them? They don't feel like the sort to be left to wander my property unattended."
"Dangerous?" Maddox frowns, rising from his chair and sparing a glance toward Gable's unconscious form, a gaze which Jon follows.
"I... I think Gabe will be fine for a while unattended." The older man pronounces reluctantly, as though the very act of saying the words will doom the very opposite to occur. But then he shakes his head, and fishes a more complex set of robes out of the wardrobe. They're a deep forest green with silver knots embroidered at the hems, complex layers of fine silks in different shades and finer enchantments that should serve to bolster his skills, if this guest does prove to be hostile. They're still cut in the shorter, practical style he prefers, only coming to his knees, and so he dons some simple brown trousers and his favorite riding boots as well. "I'm not sure if they're dangerous or not. I don't think they intend to be outright harmful, otherwise the wards would have turned them away. Just... be cautious. Take your sword. I'll do my best to intervene if things go poorly."
The redhead nods, barely hearing his uncle say that he'll wait for him in the library before he's out the door and headed out to the stables. Timber is there, sticking his head out of his stall and whinnying at him for attention the second he sets foot in the aisle. Frost is too, but the stallion is less insistent. Maddox isn't offended, though. He knows how close the cremello is with Jon. In a short handful of minutes, he has the bay saddled and ready to go, and the two trot out into the snowy forest.
The road has gotten worse in the past couple days, but that's to be expected this time of year. Whoever is coming up the road must be truly desperate, then...
He isn't expecting to find a rather well-dressed man traveling alone, and on foot no less, but that is exactly the individual he happens upon. The man is positively dripping with charisma, and it makes Maddox bristle. 'Too sweet to be savory,' was the saying they had back home for people like this. Jonathan's gut was right, it seems. Caution, above all else, is warranted.
"Well met." He nods a greeting while Timber paws at the snow. "I am Maddox Rex, chief of staff for Master Eris's estate. I'm afraid Mr. Kendall isn't available at the moment, but I'd be happy to bring you up to the house to meet with Master Eris, Mr. ...?"
He drags the last syllable out, an unspoken question: Who are you, and why are you really here?
Lee becomes very still when the instrument is placed into his lap. His little face clouds with uncertainty, which quickly escalates into anxiety, and he tries to move his body out from underneath the big mandolin to follow Peepaw. How will he know which strings to pluck without help? What if the instrument breaks all on its own like Ma's special drinking cup and Peepaw gets very mad with him and puts him in a closet? He doesn't like being by himself, not without his pine family or Pa or Catcher nearby, and he doesn't see any reason why he can't go talk with Mr. Rex, too… Mr. Rex likes him.
"I can help. I can help!" Lee struggles to get to his feet in a way that keeps the instrument safe, but he can't do it fast enough. The old man has already swept out of the room.
The boy sinks back down on the floor and cradles the mandolin in his arms like a fragile baby bird. After a minute of silence, he begins to hum a lullaby to it. That makes both of them feel better while Peepaw's gone, and he's pretty sure the mandolin likes not having to sing for everybody else for a change.
-
The redhead's greeting, although a common one, amuses the vampire greatly.
"Oh, yes, I beg your pardon. I am so focused on being reunited with my brother, I hardly can remember my manners." He places one hand over his chest while tossing the coin purse up to the man. "My name is Allerdaro Luis Silva, but my good friends call me Allerick; I warmly invite you to please do the same, Maddox Rex." The truth is that he hates being called Allerdaro almost as much as a wild beast enjoys choking on a short tether. He would chew it up, sever it from himself with his teeth, and burn it permanently from his history if he could. But he cannot, and so it is better to make his preferred name seem like a token of friendship at the beginning than to be found out as a liar later. "And who might this lovely creature be?"
Allerick approaches the bay gelding under the assumption he'll be riding to the house with the redhead. After all, what kind of host would make their guest traverse through the snow on foot? "I did not expect the conditions to be so wet up here. There is much less precipitation in the valley where I'm staying. You have heard of 'Agate Pass', I am sure? Charming town. Scrumptious people."
"I can help. I can help!" Lee struggles to get to his feet in a way that keeps the instrument safe, but he can't do it fast enough. The old man has already swept out of the room.
The boy sinks back down on the floor and cradles the mandolin in his arms like a fragile baby bird. After a minute of silence, he begins to hum a lullaby to it. That makes both of them feel better while Peepaw's gone, and he's pretty sure the mandolin likes not having to sing for everybody else for a change.
-
The redhead's greeting, although a common one, amuses the vampire greatly.
"Oh, yes, I beg your pardon. I am so focused on being reunited with my brother, I hardly can remember my manners." He places one hand over his chest while tossing the coin purse up to the man. "My name is Allerdaro Luis Silva, but my good friends call me Allerick; I warmly invite you to please do the same, Maddox Rex." The truth is that he hates being called Allerdaro almost as much as a wild beast enjoys choking on a short tether. He would chew it up, sever it from himself with his teeth, and burn it permanently from his history if he could. But he cannot, and so it is better to make his preferred name seem like a token of friendship at the beginning than to be found out as a liar later. "And who might this lovely creature be?"
Allerick approaches the bay gelding under the assumption he'll be riding to the house with the redhead. After all, what kind of host would make their guest traverse through the snow on foot? "I did not expect the conditions to be so wet up here. There is much less precipitation in the valley where I'm staying. You have heard of 'Agate Pass', I am sure? Charming town. Scrumptious people."
“I’m so sorry I had to rush off like that, Lee.” Jon apologizes the second he’s back in the library, before he’s even latched the door behind him. He finds the toddler almost exactly where he left him, holding the mandolin like a treasured friend, and whispering secrets to it like one as well. “We’re about to have a visitor very soon, and I needed to make sure I had the right clothes on before they got here.”
After propping Blackstaff up against a bookshelf near his desk, he wizard makes straight for his charge, trying not to sound or act as rushed or nervous as he feels as he reaches first for the instrument, and then for the boy holding it. He offers Lee the option of being held, of being carried around like the treasured creature he is, or a hand to hold if he wants to stay on his own two feet.
“Do you want to stay here and meet the visitor with me? Or do you want to go back to your room for a while?”
-
Maddox nods, catching the thrown coin purse and hanging it from his saddle for now. whether or not the gold gets added to the treasury later remains to be seen. It feels like a blood price, and that makes him deeply uncomfortable. More likely than not, Jon will turn the man away along with his sack of money. Or at least, that’s what he dearly hopes will happen. As much trouble as the Kendall’s have been since their arrival, he’d be devastated to see them go.
Jon’s been so happy since their arrival. Stressed, but also happy.
“Timber.” Maddox responds simply, offering Allerick a hand up so that he can ride behind the redhead. His hesitation is only momentary, but it’s still there. He doesn’t know exactly what makes the man he’s sent to greet feel so much like a rotten cabbage he’s accidentally stuck his hand in, but it’s not hard to distinguish that something is, indeed, very wrong about him. “Yes, the elevation makes quite a difference. I’m surprised you were able to make it this far, frankly. Master Eris’s magic keeps the temperature around the estate reasonable enough, but the pass is usually blocked off with snow through the winter months. Unless you intend to stay until the spring thaw, I’d recommend keeping your visit brief.”
Maddox does his best to make the trip up the mountain a quick one, though there’s nothing he can do about the way the snow slows them down. He does his best to answer whatever questions Allerick poses to him without being overly conversational. It’s not as though the man isn’t likable: he is. Extremely. And that scares him. It’s so easy to be open with him that it makes the chief of staff feel like he’s always just on the cusp of being about to say something he shouldn’t.
He leaves Timber tied to a hitching post near the barn when they arrive at the house, deciding that the gelding will be fine, if a little bored, to stand tied while he deals with their visitor.
Several dragons hiss and stare at the stranger as Maddox leads him through the house, going by the shortest route they can to the library. He knocks softly on the door before sticking his head in, just far enough past the sound barriers that Jon can hear him and vice versa.
“Jon? A Mr. Allerick Luis Silva is here to see you. Shall I send him in?” With a nod from the wizard, he withdraws his head from the doorway and instead holds it open for their visitor to pass through. “Go ahead.”
After propping Blackstaff up against a bookshelf near his desk, he wizard makes straight for his charge, trying not to sound or act as rushed or nervous as he feels as he reaches first for the instrument, and then for the boy holding it. He offers Lee the option of being held, of being carried around like the treasured creature he is, or a hand to hold if he wants to stay on his own two feet.
“Do you want to stay here and meet the visitor with me? Or do you want to go back to your room for a while?”
-
Maddox nods, catching the thrown coin purse and hanging it from his saddle for now. whether or not the gold gets added to the treasury later remains to be seen. It feels like a blood price, and that makes him deeply uncomfortable. More likely than not, Jon will turn the man away along with his sack of money. Or at least, that’s what he dearly hopes will happen. As much trouble as the Kendall’s have been since their arrival, he’d be devastated to see them go.
Jon’s been so happy since their arrival. Stressed, but also happy.
“Timber.” Maddox responds simply, offering Allerick a hand up so that he can ride behind the redhead. His hesitation is only momentary, but it’s still there. He doesn’t know exactly what makes the man he’s sent to greet feel so much like a rotten cabbage he’s accidentally stuck his hand in, but it’s not hard to distinguish that something is, indeed, very wrong about him. “Yes, the elevation makes quite a difference. I’m surprised you were able to make it this far, frankly. Master Eris’s magic keeps the temperature around the estate reasonable enough, but the pass is usually blocked off with snow through the winter months. Unless you intend to stay until the spring thaw, I’d recommend keeping your visit brief.”
Maddox does his best to make the trip up the mountain a quick one, though there’s nothing he can do about the way the snow slows them down. He does his best to answer whatever questions Allerick poses to him without being overly conversational. It’s not as though the man isn’t likable: he is. Extremely. And that scares him. It’s so easy to be open with him that it makes the chief of staff feel like he’s always just on the cusp of being about to say something he shouldn’t.
He leaves Timber tied to a hitching post near the barn when they arrive at the house, deciding that the gelding will be fine, if a little bored, to stand tied while he deals with their visitor.
Several dragons hiss and stare at the stranger as Maddox leads him through the house, going by the shortest route they can to the library. He knocks softly on the door before sticking his head in, just far enough past the sound barriers that Jon can hear him and vice versa.
“Jon? A Mr. Allerick Luis Silva is here to see you. Shall I send him in?” With a nod from the wizard, he withdraws his head from the doorway and instead holds it open for their visitor to pass through. “Go ahead.”
"I forgive you, Peepaw." Lee cheerily eyes the wizard's clothes when they're mentioned and tries to decipher how these ones are any better for greeting visitors than the last ones he was wearing. For one brief instant, he wonders if he should change his clothes to greet the visitor, too, but promptly decides not to raise the issue because he'd really rather not. This exact outfit is the one he got to wear to the pool with the ducks. Now it's his favorite.
He stands to his feet as soon as the mandolin has been lifted safely away, dusts himself off, and takes Peepaw's hand. If the visitor was a stranger, he would have instantly jumped at the offer of uppies, but as it is, he wants to be fully mobile when the time comes. "I'm gonna show Zio my new Zeppadoop! And the ducks—can we show him the ducks, Peepaw?"
-
Allerick swings himself onto the horse as naturally as one sits on a stool. The motion is fluid, graceful, evidently the product of both muscle memory and exceptional strength. He settles into the saddle without a sound except for his laugh, which is bright and well-bred.
"Yes, I understand why you find it difficult to believe I made it all this way on my own feet in this weather. That is because it is impossible. I did not. I began my journey astride a very handsome red roan, but the man from town who owned it would only bring me so far. Your boss has a certain kind of reputation, I believe. …People fear him." The smile in his voice is unmistakable. He continues amiably. "As they should! Like the fear of fire, it is healthy to respect those with great power. Don't you agree?"
Although the Kendalls speak with the earthy drawl of farmfolk, Allerick's articulation is smooth and clear as he enunciates every word, especially the vowels, with the politeness of a foreigner who is loath to be misunderstood.
"Have you been working for this extraordinary man a long time? What does my brother do for him?"
Curiously, there is no sign of Gable's feral, untidy mental signature pinging out to him as they draw closer to the house. It makes Allerick begin to question the validity of the information he paid for from that smug postal worker in Agate Pass… Oleander Buck had been all too eager to help him once he knew whose charge Allerick wanted to find.
"That big arrogant arse? I know him all right." The man had sneered, which caused Allerick to doubt they were talking about the same benevolent idiot after all. But again, annoyed, Oleander confirmed Gable's description to the last detail. "I know where his bibbidi-bobbidi-boss lives, too… You say you've come to take your brother out of here? Good. You can take Jonathan Eris with you, too, while you're at it. I'll give you a ride."
At the time, Allerick had thought himself very lucky to find a man who recognized Gable by his description (not that his bear-sized dimwit relative ever blended well into a crowd) but now… he wonders if he's about to be forced into fulfilling the postman's personal vendetta against the mage on the mountain. If not for the thrum of the redhead in front of him, he might assume there was some sort of spell masking all the household's subconscious activity, but because he can sense the chief of staff (and many others nearby), he is forced to assume Gable is either dead or has moved on from this place. If he does not find Gable alive then no one, least of all the man responsible, will survive the vampire's tour of the estate.
The high-pitched whine of a familiar little brain calls out to him suddenly, bursting through the muddied drone of many minds. It's a mess of colors and sounds and flashes of images with no coherency to them at all. Its garishness nearly gives him a migraine, but the overarching tone of enthusiasm is somehow amusing and quite welcome.
His own reply rings clear and sweet, cutting through the child's chaos and even stifling it into a more orderly sense of calm, pacifying him. Allerick's presence is much more than only a notion or impression, but practically as real and discernable as spoken words and an embrace. "Yes, I am here. I'll see you very soon."
The vampire keeps his gloved hands folded politely at the small of his back while they journey into the house's inner rooms. Undaunted by their territorial greeting, his ice chip eyes peer back at the hissy little lizards who come out to challenge his presence; he wonders absently if they would taste anything like fire-roasted pit viper with the right preparation and spices, or would the meat be too tough to be enjoyable? It is an experiment he shall gladly perform if his visit proves disappointing.
His gaze skips over the other staff members they pass by; they might as well be uninteresting pieces of furniture, and even then, he might have spared them a glance. He makes note of all the art and fine rugs on their way. Then he watches with genuine wonder as the house's chief of staff sticks his head into a certain room; the man's freckled jaw flaps up and down sure enough, but no sound comes out of him. More impressive magic. But no silencing spell can contain the vibration of the tiny boy's excitement on the other side of the door.
When Allerick enters, he pretends not to notice Lee, instead fixing his gaze respectfully on the master of the house. The way the room seems like a prism built specifically to catch every last ray of the fading winter light dazzles him for a moment, then he smiles.
"Archmage Eris." He breathes the man's name as if relieved to finally lay eyes on him. "How do you do, sir? Thank you for setting aside a moment to see me; I understand you are a busy man, and this visit was not—"
"Zio!"
"I understand my visit is unexpected—"
"Zio, look!" Lee moves to put himself squarely in his uncle's line of sight and waves both hands. "Lee is here. It's me."
Something passes over Allerick's expression, a brief flinch of annoyance, but then he sighs and breaks into a grin at the boy's persistent recognition and drops himself to one knee, arms wide open. "Il mio tesorino! Of course I see you. Come stai, bambino? Why have I found you so far from home? Did you get lost?"
Lee flings himself into those waiting arms and giggles. "No."
"Did you forget about me when you left?" Allerick showers the boy's cheeks and neck with granite-cold kisses, pressing his frozen nose into Lee's toasty skin, eliciting even more giggling.
"No!"
Allerick grins while drawing in a breath of the soft child's succulent aroma. He notices immediately that the boy is devoid of his typical dirt-and-manure stench that comes from being raised alongside witless animals. And he has more weight to him now than Allerick remembers; he's grown, and he's healthy. "No, of course you didn't forget your favorite zio. We're best friends. Dove Papa?"
Some of Lee's sparkle drains out at the mention of his father. He fidgets with his uncle's coat collar and shrugs tensely. "Pa's where the little boys aren't allowed. He's sick."
Very. Interesting. Allerick knew his brother had become infected by that wretched disease before fleeing his home, but the full moon is at least another week away; Gable should, in theory, feel perfectly fine. The vampire's silver-coin gaze flashes up to the old mage, but he hides his suspicion beneath the soft curve of a sympathetic smile. "Ooh, I see… Non va bene. I'm sorry, tesorino, but it will be all right. Papa just needs to come home to feel better now. And you'll feel better there, too. It's where you belong."
"With Mama?"
"Er… no. With me, and Papa, and il tuo Nonno. Your grandfather. You remember him, don't you?"
"That's Peepaw!" Lee twists to look back at the old wizard proudly. "I love him."
Allerick's lips purse and he pats the boy's behind. "Yes... I'm sure you do. Well, 'pee-paw' and I must speak for a little while now, man to man. Will you go away and play quietly, please?"
Lee hesitates. He doesn't want to be left out of any more grown-up talks, but he doesn't want to disobey his uncle outright, either. He glances up at Peepaw in an attempt to gauge which authority figure has more control over him at the moment. If Peepaw tells him to go, he'll go. But if Peepaw tells him he can stay… then he'll have to see if Zio gets mad. Whoever's maddest in any given room is the one he listens to.
Whatever the mage decides to do with the boy, Allerick stands to his feet again and approaches the master of the house to proffer his hand. "Thank you for taking such wonderful care of my family, signore. You are surely a saint." He kisses his own fingers, then touches his chest over his heart. A regional genuflect. "May I see my brother, please?"
He stands to his feet as soon as the mandolin has been lifted safely away, dusts himself off, and takes Peepaw's hand. If the visitor was a stranger, he would have instantly jumped at the offer of uppies, but as it is, he wants to be fully mobile when the time comes. "I'm gonna show Zio my new Zeppadoop! And the ducks—can we show him the ducks, Peepaw?"
-
Allerick swings himself onto the horse as naturally as one sits on a stool. The motion is fluid, graceful, evidently the product of both muscle memory and exceptional strength. He settles into the saddle without a sound except for his laugh, which is bright and well-bred.
"Yes, I understand why you find it difficult to believe I made it all this way on my own feet in this weather. That is because it is impossible. I did not. I began my journey astride a very handsome red roan, but the man from town who owned it would only bring me so far. Your boss has a certain kind of reputation, I believe. …People fear him." The smile in his voice is unmistakable. He continues amiably. "As they should! Like the fear of fire, it is healthy to respect those with great power. Don't you agree?"
Although the Kendalls speak with the earthy drawl of farmfolk, Allerick's articulation is smooth and clear as he enunciates every word, especially the vowels, with the politeness of a foreigner who is loath to be misunderstood.
"Have you been working for this extraordinary man a long time? What does my brother do for him?"
Curiously, there is no sign of Gable's feral, untidy mental signature pinging out to him as they draw closer to the house. It makes Allerick begin to question the validity of the information he paid for from that smug postal worker in Agate Pass… Oleander Buck had been all too eager to help him once he knew whose charge Allerick wanted to find.
"That big arrogant arse? I know him all right." The man had sneered, which caused Allerick to doubt they were talking about the same benevolent idiot after all. But again, annoyed, Oleander confirmed Gable's description to the last detail. "I know where his bibbidi-bobbidi-boss lives, too… You say you've come to take your brother out of here? Good. You can take Jonathan Eris with you, too, while you're at it. I'll give you a ride."
At the time, Allerick had thought himself very lucky to find a man who recognized Gable by his description (not that his bear-sized dimwit relative ever blended well into a crowd) but now… he wonders if he's about to be forced into fulfilling the postman's personal vendetta against the mage on the mountain. If not for the thrum of the redhead in front of him, he might assume there was some sort of spell masking all the household's subconscious activity, but because he can sense the chief of staff (and many others nearby), he is forced to assume Gable is either dead or has moved on from this place. If he does not find Gable alive then no one, least of all the man responsible, will survive the vampire's tour of the estate.
The high-pitched whine of a familiar little brain calls out to him suddenly, bursting through the muddied drone of many minds. It's a mess of colors and sounds and flashes of images with no coherency to them at all. Its garishness nearly gives him a migraine, but the overarching tone of enthusiasm is somehow amusing and quite welcome.
His own reply rings clear and sweet, cutting through the child's chaos and even stifling it into a more orderly sense of calm, pacifying him. Allerick's presence is much more than only a notion or impression, but practically as real and discernable as spoken words and an embrace. "Yes, I am here. I'll see you very soon."
The vampire keeps his gloved hands folded politely at the small of his back while they journey into the house's inner rooms. Undaunted by their territorial greeting, his ice chip eyes peer back at the hissy little lizards who come out to challenge his presence; he wonders absently if they would taste anything like fire-roasted pit viper with the right preparation and spices, or would the meat be too tough to be enjoyable? It is an experiment he shall gladly perform if his visit proves disappointing.
His gaze skips over the other staff members they pass by; they might as well be uninteresting pieces of furniture, and even then, he might have spared them a glance. He makes note of all the art and fine rugs on their way. Then he watches with genuine wonder as the house's chief of staff sticks his head into a certain room; the man's freckled jaw flaps up and down sure enough, but no sound comes out of him. More impressive magic. But no silencing spell can contain the vibration of the tiny boy's excitement on the other side of the door.
When Allerick enters, he pretends not to notice Lee, instead fixing his gaze respectfully on the master of the house. The way the room seems like a prism built specifically to catch every last ray of the fading winter light dazzles him for a moment, then he smiles.
"Archmage Eris." He breathes the man's name as if relieved to finally lay eyes on him. "How do you do, sir? Thank you for setting aside a moment to see me; I understand you are a busy man, and this visit was not—"
"Zio!"
"I understand my visit is unexpected—"
"Zio, look!" Lee moves to put himself squarely in his uncle's line of sight and waves both hands. "Lee is here. It's me."
Something passes over Allerick's expression, a brief flinch of annoyance, but then he sighs and breaks into a grin at the boy's persistent recognition and drops himself to one knee, arms wide open. "Il mio tesorino! Of course I see you. Come stai, bambino? Why have I found you so far from home? Did you get lost?"
Lee flings himself into those waiting arms and giggles. "No."
"Did you forget about me when you left?" Allerick showers the boy's cheeks and neck with granite-cold kisses, pressing his frozen nose into Lee's toasty skin, eliciting even more giggling.
"No!"
Allerick grins while drawing in a breath of the soft child's succulent aroma. He notices immediately that the boy is devoid of his typical dirt-and-manure stench that comes from being raised alongside witless animals. And he has more weight to him now than Allerick remembers; he's grown, and he's healthy. "No, of course you didn't forget your favorite zio. We're best friends. Dove Papa?"
Some of Lee's sparkle drains out at the mention of his father. He fidgets with his uncle's coat collar and shrugs tensely. "Pa's where the little boys aren't allowed. He's sick."
Very. Interesting. Allerick knew his brother had become infected by that wretched disease before fleeing his home, but the full moon is at least another week away; Gable should, in theory, feel perfectly fine. The vampire's silver-coin gaze flashes up to the old mage, but he hides his suspicion beneath the soft curve of a sympathetic smile. "Ooh, I see… Non va bene. I'm sorry, tesorino, but it will be all right. Papa just needs to come home to feel better now. And you'll feel better there, too. It's where you belong."
"With Mama?"
"Er… no. With me, and Papa, and il tuo Nonno. Your grandfather. You remember him, don't you?"
"That's Peepaw!" Lee twists to look back at the old wizard proudly. "I love him."
Allerick's lips purse and he pats the boy's behind. "Yes... I'm sure you do. Well, 'pee-paw' and I must speak for a little while now, man to man. Will you go away and play quietly, please?"
Lee hesitates. He doesn't want to be left out of any more grown-up talks, but he doesn't want to disobey his uncle outright, either. He glances up at Peepaw in an attempt to gauge which authority figure has more control over him at the moment. If Peepaw tells him to go, he'll go. But if Peepaw tells him he can stay… then he'll have to see if Zio gets mad. Whoever's maddest in any given room is the one he listens to.
Whatever the mage decides to do with the boy, Allerick stands to his feet again and approaches the master of the house to proffer his hand. "Thank you for taking such wonderful care of my family, signore. You are surely a saint." He kisses his own fingers, then touches his chest over his heart. A regional genuflect. "May I see my brother, please?"
The second the man steps into the library, Jonathan knows exactly what he is, and has a good sense of who he is as well. Much like the smell of wet dog and wilderness had permeated the dining hall the night of the full moon, this visitor is rank with the scent of crypt dust and iron, his alabaster skin removing any lingering doubt of his nature. The wizard feels the color drain from his own face as the realization sets in. But he sets his jaw, hands folded behind his ramrod-straight back and determination in his expression. This isn’t the first vampire he’s dealt with, and it certainly won’t be the last. Of course, that doesn’t make having him on his property any less nerve-wracking. He'll just need to be careful with his words and guard his mind as best he can.
He watches the exchange between Lee and Allerick very closely, scrutinizing how comfortable the boy is around him, how they talk to each other, what they discuss, all while silently waiting for the apparent reunion to conclude. Clearly the two know each other well, for Lee to be comfortable running right up to him and demanding to be held, which solidifies his hunch that this must be one of Gable's half-brothers, the one described as a leech. Seeing the two get along does nothing to soothe the wizard’s own anxieties, though, especially when that stone-cold nose nuzzles in close to the child’s soft neck. And he absolutely bristles when he hears talk of taking the two Kendall's away.
Hadn't Gabe mentioned that he wasn't the most fond of his half-brothers?
"Lee can stay if he wishes." He pronounces, knowing there's a chance his decision might not be the most popular with their guest. But Lee has had a lot of agency taken from him in the past day, and if he can give some of that back, even in small amounts, it seems like a wise route to take. He even holds out a hand for Lee to grasp if he wants it. "I've been as honest with him as I will be with you about his father's state, and he deserves to have a say in what decisions are being made."
The man is polite, at least, the wizard thinks to himself as he returns the gesture. Insistent, but polite.
"Of course. They are members of my household, and I do what I can to care for those under my authority." Jon chooses his language carefully, setting a boundary and subtly daring the vampire to cross it. They have chosen to be here, with me. Can you say the same? "And my short answer for you is no. As Lee said, your brother is very ill right now. I'm sure you are aware of his condition. He came to me seeking a cure, and I promised to try. But the cure has not been kind to his body, and we are waiting for him to stabilize before letting visitors in to see him."
He watches the exchange between Lee and Allerick very closely, scrutinizing how comfortable the boy is around him, how they talk to each other, what they discuss, all while silently waiting for the apparent reunion to conclude. Clearly the two know each other well, for Lee to be comfortable running right up to him and demanding to be held, which solidifies his hunch that this must be one of Gable's half-brothers, the one described as a leech. Seeing the two get along does nothing to soothe the wizard’s own anxieties, though, especially when that stone-cold nose nuzzles in close to the child’s soft neck. And he absolutely bristles when he hears talk of taking the two Kendall's away.
Hadn't Gabe mentioned that he wasn't the most fond of his half-brothers?
"Lee can stay if he wishes." He pronounces, knowing there's a chance his decision might not be the most popular with their guest. But Lee has had a lot of agency taken from him in the past day, and if he can give some of that back, even in small amounts, it seems like a wise route to take. He even holds out a hand for Lee to grasp if he wants it. "I've been as honest with him as I will be with you about his father's state, and he deserves to have a say in what decisions are being made."
The man is polite, at least, the wizard thinks to himself as he returns the gesture. Insistent, but polite.
"Of course. They are members of my household, and I do what I can to care for those under my authority." Jon chooses his language carefully, setting a boundary and subtly daring the vampire to cross it. They have chosen to be here, with me. Can you say the same? "And my short answer for you is no. As Lee said, your brother is very ill right now. I'm sure you are aware of his condition. He came to me seeking a cure, and I promised to try. But the cure has not been kind to his body, and we are waiting for him to stabilize before letting visitors in to see him."
Lee lifts his chin proudly as he marches back to hold Peepaw's hand. Because it's dangling within reach, he reaches out and holds his zio's hand, too, forcing the two men to remain in close proximity to each other. While they talk about Pa, Lee listens and bounces on his heels, swinging the adults' arms.
Allerick tolerates the child's presence by ignoring him, largely, except for when Lee dips suddenly and it forces him to pull up his hand to remain upright with dignity. "I did not know there was a cure available, signore. This is most interesting."
He glances down at the boy and studies him for a moment. "Forgive me, but if you know of my brother's affliction, then he must have confided in you that he was born with certain abilities, too, yes? So was I, just like our father, and I feel very certain my nephew has them as well. His mind has expanded since I last saw him. But Lee is in a very good mood… this is unusual for a boy whose parent is ill. Our kind cannot help but feel the illness, too, at such a tender age." He pauses for a moment before making his point. "My own mind cannot sense Gable here at all."
The next time Lee dips, Allerick puts him back on his feet curtly, then withdraws his hand and folds it with the other behind his back again. He continues to be tactful but adamant as he presses on. "Maestro, I would not like to impose my presence upon your lovely home for any longer than absolutely necessary. I bless you for all you have done, and trust your intentions are good with my family members. I only request, for my own heart's peace, that I may see Gable and confirm for myself that he is, in fact, alive." He says this without accusation, and really, without much emotion at all, but Lee has stopped bouncing and watches him cautiously, like a pup scenting a change in the wind.
"I have come a long way to do so on behalf of my father. He misses his firstborn, fears for his safety, and would like him to know he has another home to return to, if he so wishes."
Allerick tolerates the child's presence by ignoring him, largely, except for when Lee dips suddenly and it forces him to pull up his hand to remain upright with dignity. "I did not know there was a cure available, signore. This is most interesting."
He glances down at the boy and studies him for a moment. "Forgive me, but if you know of my brother's affliction, then he must have confided in you that he was born with certain abilities, too, yes? So was I, just like our father, and I feel very certain my nephew has them as well. His mind has expanded since I last saw him. But Lee is in a very good mood… this is unusual for a boy whose parent is ill. Our kind cannot help but feel the illness, too, at such a tender age." He pauses for a moment before making his point. "My own mind cannot sense Gable here at all."
The next time Lee dips, Allerick puts him back on his feet curtly, then withdraws his hand and folds it with the other behind his back again. He continues to be tactful but adamant as he presses on. "Maestro, I would not like to impose my presence upon your lovely home for any longer than absolutely necessary. I bless you for all you have done, and trust your intentions are good with my family members. I only request, for my own heart's peace, that I may see Gable and confirm for myself that he is, in fact, alive." He says this without accusation, and really, without much emotion at all, but Lee has stopped bouncing and watches him cautiously, like a pup scenting a change in the wind.
"I have come a long way to do so on behalf of my father. He misses his firstborn, fears for his safety, and would like him to know he has another home to return to, if he so wishes."
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