Log: Slight Ado About a Dead Thing
Dec. 7th, 2018 09:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lionofthelight((A Discord log posted here for posterity, featuring votivescholars' Lieselotte Durant, mother of Isidor. This is posted after What is Owed, but was written prior and comes earlier chronologically.))
It's a week past the wedding when Zandros requests to meet with Lieselotte. In Azeroth, he thinks. That will be the perfect meeting ground. Shortly after the wedding he had given her a stone inscribed with a swirling rune -- a teleportation stone, he claimed. Simple, magical transportation between his family's manor in Stormwind and theirs on Earth. Traditional and functional. No need of mechanical devices from poorly-understood multiversal realms.
Nothing about the manor has changed since her last visit, but the world around them has shifted with the seasons. Though the weather is mild compared to near-winter in England, most leaves have already been stripped from the now-bare branches of the trees. It's the powerful gusts that do it, high in the hills above the city of Stormwind. The blusteriness of it all makes the place seem colder than it is, but a good coat is enough to keep the worst of it out.
With the wooded hillside no longer an obstacle the view over Elwynn Forest is expansive. Below in the valley are rolling hills, and even so far off the eye can see the vineyards and the bright colors of the pumpkin harvests in the fields. A rustic hamlet lies far enough off that only its buildings' vague shapes and the largest plumes of smoke from the fireplaces are discernable.
The opposite view is of Stormwind City itself, bright white as ever. The matching, colored rooftops of the districts catch the eye, stark against each other in purples, blues, and golds. Light reflects off the canals and the golden spires of the towering cathedral. In the far, far distance the most massive ships entering the harbor can be distinguished by their large, white sails.
Zandros is there to greet Lieselotte when she arrives, and quick to guide her into the marbled manor. Without the wind to chill them and with the ambient heat of fires in the fireplaces it's much warmer indoors. Lord and Lady Alter don't appear to greet Lieselotte -- presumably they must be gone. It seems it's only Lieselotte, Zandros, and the help today.
He leads them both to a smaller eating room than the massive dining hall Lieselotte was invited into before. The food has not been yet set out, but a metal container for liquids has been set out with a pair of mugs. Three tea lights have been placed below it to keep its contents warm.
Zandros pulls out a chair for Lieselotte and takes his own seat once she's comfortable.
"I appreciate you sparing an afternoon for me, Lady Durant," he says. By now the Nexus' translation magic has permeated him, and the two might speak freely without the aid of other, possibly nosier parties. "Especially now, as your son's wedding has me looking towards the future Isidor and I might someday share."
It's a week past the wedding when Zandros requests to meet with Lieselotte. In Azeroth, he thinks. That will be the perfect meeting ground. Shortly after the wedding he had given her a stone inscribed with a swirling rune -- a teleportation stone, he claimed. Simple, magical transportation between his family's manor in Stormwind and theirs on Earth. Traditional and functional. No need of mechanical devices from poorly-understood multiversal realms.
Nothing about the manor has changed since her last visit, but the world around them has shifted with the seasons. Though the weather is mild compared to near-winter in England, most leaves have already been stripped from the now-bare branches of the trees. It's the powerful gusts that do it, high in the hills above the city of Stormwind. The blusteriness of it all makes the place seem colder than it is, but a good coat is enough to keep the worst of it out.
With the wooded hillside no longer an obstacle the view over Elwynn Forest is expansive. Below in the valley are rolling hills, and even so far off the eye can see the vineyards and the bright colors of the pumpkin harvests in the fields. A rustic hamlet lies far enough off that only its buildings' vague shapes and the largest plumes of smoke from the fireplaces are discernable.
The opposite view is of Stormwind City itself, bright white as ever. The matching, colored rooftops of the districts catch the eye, stark against each other in purples, blues, and golds. Light reflects off the canals and the golden spires of the towering cathedral. In the far, far distance the most massive ships entering the harbor can be distinguished by their large, white sails.
Zandros is there to greet Lieselotte when she arrives, and quick to guide her into the marbled manor. Without the wind to chill them and with the ambient heat of fires in the fireplaces it's much warmer indoors. Lord and Lady Alter don't appear to greet Lieselotte -- presumably they must be gone. It seems it's only Lieselotte, Zandros, and the help today.
He leads them both to a smaller eating room than the massive dining hall Lieselotte was invited into before. The food has not been yet set out, but a metal container for liquids has been set out with a pair of mugs. Three tea lights have been placed below it to keep its contents warm.
Zandros pulls out a chair for Lieselotte and takes his own seat once she's comfortable.
"I appreciate you sparing an afternoon for me, Lady Durant," he says. By now the Nexus' translation magic has permeated him, and the two might speak freely without the aid of other, possibly nosier parties. "Especially now, as your son's wedding has me looking towards the future Isidor and I might someday share."
no subject
Date: 2018-12-08 02:12 am (UTC)Tempting Lieselotte out on another excursion to the world that gave her a renewed taste of freedom didn’t take much. Even with the uncertainty of the foreign teleportation magic, it was a thrilling prospect. When she arrives on Azeroth once more in her sleek modern dress and thick, long coat, she takes a precious moment to admire her surroundings. It is beautiful. The hamlet is quaint, and the city is magnificent. Familiar and yet not so. Humanity’s creations from another world. How marvellous…
Too soon, however, she has to leave the scenery behind to follow her gracious host. Not that he isn’t also easy on the eyes… and the heat of live fires warms her soul. She allows herself to be guided, offering graceful tips of the head and coy smiles for each gentlemanly action Zandros offers. It is a dance, after all, and must be done properly.
“You were kind to invite me back to your home,” she counters softly. “And it’s always a pleasure to see you, Zandros. Now, tell me what it is you’d like to talk about.”
Zandros
"It would be remiss to progress directly into such affairs, some of which I must admit have troubled my mind these past days, but I think you are right. We had better cut directly to the chase, as they say, and discuss current dilemmas freely that we might come to some conclusion and in doing so unburden ourselves."
Zandros smooths his pants and pauses momentarily to consider his next words.
It would be disrespectful not to look Lady Durant in the face when he first brings forth the nature of their meeting.
"I have my concerns that one man, if we might indeed call him that, has become a dangerous influence on your children. One of them, at least. I don't claim to understand his relationship with your son, but I fear that..."
How to put this?
"In the absence of the company of a proper gentleman, Isidor was too long perceived as a free woman to which he might become overly attached. I believe you must have noticed this as well."
Lieselotte
Lieselotte nods along as he pushes past propriety to get to the matters at hand. There are times when it is prudent to be delicate, but they’re both strong enough to handle the truth of the matter, whatever it may be. Still, she allows him the space and time to gather his thoughts and consider his words before he speaks. Once he meets her eyes, however, she holds his gaze.
Only to sigh when he voices his concerns. “I have noticed. He’s quite devoted to my children, but especially to Isidor. Admittedly, I didn’t consider this an issue at first. She would not be the first woman to acquire a devoted follower with unwavering loyalty by inspiring a sort of love…” She heaves another sigh and tilts her head apologetically to Zandros. “I never imagined he would pose an issue to you. To come between you and Isidor. How forward of him.”
Zandros
"Were I to imply he were truly capable of coming between Isidor and myself would, I believe, do your daughter's honor a disservice. His confused inclinations are without a doubt lost upon her. Though I do, perhaps, worry that she might have become comfortable in the safe attention of a man from whom no threat of romance lies."
Zandros glances fleetingly around the room before turning his bright-eyed attention back to Lieselotte.
"Before we discuss this further I must ask you... What do you know about his nature, or the nature of his kind? And what of the undead of your world, if indeed your world is cursed by their presence?"
no subject
Date: 2018-12-08 02:13 am (UTC)That Zandros doesn’t accuse Isidor of anything uncivil is a politeness. One Lieselotte isn’t sure she should take at face value, though she has no reason not to. She decides not to voice her particular concerns. There’s no need. She and Zandros can discuss the practical matters, no need to delve into the possibilities of her daughter’s flaws.
“I know that undead work differently to people. That they can be bound to service, or focused on a single task.” Lieselotte pauses briefly to consider the casualness with which she speaks before adding, “It is not unusual for mages in my world to associate with dangerous beings, other mages included. Isidor is more than capable of handling him in practical matters, but I believe she is somewhat unaware of the particular dangers he could present.”
Zandros
Zandros nods as he mulls over what he's told. "So the undead on your world are servitors. That may have briefly been true on my world as well, but no longer. Many of them, like Harrowheart, are free-willed and cannot be so easily controlled. This has allowed us insight into what it is that motivates them; what exactly moves them forward through our world."
"Magic, of course, but emotionally... The fires of their half-souls are fueled by enviousness and hunger. Envy, first and foremost, of the living. Of those who still experience the world wholly, fully. Those who rest when they sleep, are sated when they eat. Envy of the ability to create, where they may merely destroy."
"And hunger. A hunger to take that which they are denied -- which is to say, life. This is why they kill remorselessly and with abandon. Do you know that they do this? Do you know that he must do this? A death knight must kill or torture the living in order to fuel their own magic, but, most disturbingly, many of them quite enjoy it. I believe this is why he so struggled to find allies in Stormwind even when he arrived in his finest attire and with his finest manners. Many know that association with such creatures is morally, spiritually, and physically dangerous. I merely wondered if... His nature perhaps being foreign to you... You and your children were aware of this as well. Of the dangers as well as the implications."
Lieselotte
Lieselotte listens with rapt attention. There are so many kinds of undead on her world that it was hardly worth listing them out. She wouldn’t want to call attention to such creatures as vampires either. Zandros would learn of them, in time, but for now the dead most prominent were capable of being controlled by magical means. This, it seems, is not the case with Harrowheart. She doesn’t seem surprised. Merely… disappointed by the whole situation.
“The Archon and I are aware of the many dangers of associating with the undead. Even their hungering nature. I should expect my children are aware of it as well…” She hesitates and then concedes, “Or at least Isidor should be.”
“We were not aware of the specifics,” she admits. “We saw no need for it. You must understand that it is commonplace for mages to find themselves in the company of dangerous and unpredictable beings. To have an elemental creature as a guard, a spirit as a guide, or a wraith as a servant is not unusual. And Isidor needs to surround herself with people and beings that match her high standards. To seek out her own allies and establish her own independence.”
Lieselotte pauses and tips her head to one side. “That being said. We cannot allow unhealthy bonds to form between them. I enjoy his company, but he must know his place.”
Zandros
What Lieselotte says is no less than highly disturbing. But how can Zandros say as much? How can he express that to the mother of the woman he's destined to marry? To confront her family on their no-doubt time-tested attitudes is to deeply insult their family. To say nothing is to follow down a path which has historically led mages of his own world to their doom. Lieselotte does not know what she is so easily brushing off, of that he is certain. But to tell her that?
Zandros is lost to his thoughts as time passes him by. He sits in total silence, his hands folded, his eyes shifting now and then with the turning of his thoughts. In the mean time a passing servant sees the unused mugs near the heating carafe and takes it upon himself to pour drinks for the two of them. It's unmistakeably dark hot chocolate, warm and steaming, smelling strongly of cocoa. He passes a cup to each of them, smiles and half-bows for Lieselotte, and goes off on his way, leaving Zandros with something new to focus on.
Zandros takes the mug and holds it between his hands, but does not drink.
"I respect your confidence," he finally says. "And I agree that we cannot allow them to form too close a relationship... But I fear it may already be done. Harrowheart sates his envy and hunger vicariously through the presence of your children. He plays at living, imagines he may take up the role of a living man, and this seems to be enough to encourage his decent behavior. Yet I worry that his attachment to both your daughter and your son is far too strong. If one were to be bold, one might go so far as to describe his feelings for her as, I dare say, romantic. One might think the solution would be to send him off, but I foresee your children resenting the loss of their friend, and Harrowheart resenting the loss of his charade. A vengeful undead is, to put it incredibly lightly, an inconvenience."
no subject
Date: 2018-12-08 02:14 am (UTC)After spending so many years as the wife of Vercor Durant, Lieselotte is quite comfortable in silence. Quiet contemplation, even in the presence of others, is nothing to shy away from. She offers a smile and a grateful nod to the servant when he pours their drinks. Her smile only widens when she pulls the cup close and inhales deeply. It’s quaint, truly, but she won’t make any such comment. Besides, when she sees Zandros’ troubled demeanour remains, she sobers appropriately.
Even once he’s finished, she keeps her thoughtful silence, cup gently clasped in her fingertips. It is troubling indeed. Yet Zandros speaks with such certainty… She meets his gaze again, eyeing him curiously. “Do you have a suggestion? An idea as to what we could do about this… unfortunate situation?”
Zandros
"Perhaps," he says, eyes on his drink. "I do not see the opportunity yet, but I see the makings of it. Tensions on this world are rising, Lady Durant. While I am free to leave my service to my country, he is bound to his duty as an Ebon Knight. Should he be called to action, the penalty for ignoring his order would be death. They do not tolerate disobedience, for they cannot afford to. Their existence on this world is predicated on their ability to follow rules -- their own, and those of the living."
Zandros finally tastes his drink, but his thoughts are more distracting than the powerful chocolate. "I cannot engineer a war, but I can assure that if tensions were to escalate he would be called to serve."
Lieselotte
There is a lot to consider here. What Zandros suggests, even if it is a sure eventuality, is not reliable and cannot be assured to be timely. It is, however, neat. A tidy solution which no one can be blamed for. If it could be hastened it would perfect, and yet that involves wishing war upon their new allies’ world.
“If war were to break out I think we would all be in agreement that we should release him of any obligations, so that he may freely focus on his duties. No one could disagree with that.” She runs her thumb along the side of her cup, feeling it out as if she might experience some new material under her skin. “You and I could both make sure he understands this sentiment to him when the time comes.”
“But without knowing when this day may come, we must do everything in our power to discourage his affections and encourage my daughter’s affections for you.” She sips her drink, smiles her approval, and then turns her pleasant expression to Zandros. “She will have to spend more time with you. Runa and Viatorus are married now. It is Runa’s duty to fulfil Viatorus’ needs as a patron and a wife. Isidor can afford to spend more time getting to know her future husband.”
Zandros
Zandros' agreements come as respectfully quiet noises of approval. Lieselotte has the right way of thinking now, of this he's quite confident.
"I have, in fact, already made preparations for her to visit me more frequently. At the wedding I spoke with Runa, inviting her along to my manor to be Isidor's guide. She is a good girl, Runa. I believe she has the potential to be the perfect influence on Isidor. She can show by example that marriage is joyful, and, rather than a prison, a new sort of freedom meant to be experienced and shared with the one we love."
Now he's able to smile once again, if only faintly. He tastes his drink once more and this time finds it infinitely more enjoyable. Yes! A plan is coming together!
"I have also called in a favor from an old friend who I believe Isidor will be tempted to meet. Her name is Gloreastrasza, and she is a dragon of the Red flight -- the flight of life and its fruitfulness. If we mortals alone cannot alone convince Isidor that her destiny is noble, one might hope a dragon could."
Another sip of his drink and he adds as an afterthought, "And she quite dislikes the Scourge."
Lieselotte
Lieselotte smiles and dips her head at Zandros’ praise of Runa. Picking the Nyström girl had been a choice made entirely for Viatorus’ wellbeing, but this was a pleasant bonus. She was all too aware that Isidor would need all the encouragement that could be sent her way. Runa was perfectly placed to help them in that.
What Zandros reveals next gets Lieselotte’s full attention. Her eyes widen and she turns her head to face him fully. There is no question that she’s impressed. Her response is almost breathless. “A dragon?” Her lips peel into a smile. “Isidor couldn’t take such an encounter lightly.”
Sitting back, her smile rests into place as she eyes up her future son-in-law. “My daughter is hard to please, I don’t have any illusions about that. All her life she’s been held to the highest standards, as one might expect of the daughter of the Archon. She expects those high standards of everyone she meets. We chose you because we believe you will be able to meet, even surpass, those expectations. I know she might be… testing you right now, but once she is assured of your ability to be her partner then I promise you her devotion will know no bounds. You need only look to how she treats her brother to see how loyal she is.”
Zandros
"High praise, Lady Durant," Zandros says, attempting to force a little humility by fighting back his own smile and looking to his cup. It wouldn't do to look self-centered now.
Then he raises his head and with a reserved smile asserts, "And she deserves someone who can exceed those expectations. If I cannot pass her tests then I am not worthy of your family's time, this I know. I shall continue doing my utmost to prove to her that we are meant to be, and until I do I shall allow nothing to come between us."