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 02:14 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."