Festival (1 May 2003) A happy ending for our heroes.

The Festival
The Palace of All Seasons is decked out for a party like has not been seen in at least half a Year. Bright banners of all twelve months of the year hang from poles lining the walls, adorned with silhouettes of the animals and crests of each House. Gone is the snow, save for an ice gazebo and a range of glistening snow sculptures in a part of the courtyard where December has had its touch in the decor. But spring is well under way now, and the air is alive with the intermingled scents of flowers, baking bread, smoked roasts ... and the sounds of laughter, music, and cheerful mayhem.

The courtyard contained within the high walls of the Palace of All Seasons has gone from white and greys to a display of color. A great bandstand has been erected, embodying the four seasons in one: it is sculpted of thick ice (and trickles of meltwater stream into troughs), but is bedecked in fiery boughs of autumn leaves, garlands of spring flowers, and twining summer vines.

Upon the stage, a band of many shapes and sizes plays in happy nigh-cacophony, the trilling of penny-whistles, the shaking of tambourines, the bang of hand-drums and the plucking of strings competing with the susurrus of festival-goers milling about. Before the stage, an area has been marked off in poles and colored ribbons for dancing, though for now only a few garrulous souls do a few jigs and twirls for sport, and to the hoots of encouragement from their friends.

Over in a miniature jousting court, where the king's box is occupied by jesters rather than royalty, some clownish Forooves bedecked out as knights on horseback (complete with fake horse heads and fake rider's legs) perform absurd stunts for the crowd in mock attempts to "unseat" each other with lances that snap, bend about, and sometimes burst into confetti in their varied failed attempts.

Game booths feature a number of sports for those anxious to test their skills at knocking wooden trolls over with thrown balls, guessing how many kobolds will have to sit on one side of a see-saw to lift a gargant, trying to match a hydra in a contest of riddles, arm-wrestling, or - of course - guessing under which shell a little golden ball can be found.

A special sport for some of the youngest is the chance to "slay" a "dragon" - for a mysterious "sage" wanders through the crowd, occasionally picking a youth destined to be a "hero," and leading him and his friends to a cloth and frame "dragon" that dips and soars on ropes. With a wooden sword clutched in hand, the child hero swings ... and hits the dragon! With a loud pop, hard candies shower in the faux dragon's wake, as it sails away ... and the children giggle and dive to the ground, trying to quickly grab as much as they can!

In quieter corners, a befrilled and rather foppish-looking fox-like creature in baggy pantaloons, a blousy top, over-buttoned vest, and over-feathered hat strums a lute, singing a long ballad to the enjoyment of many children and cublings and a few of the older folk who sprawl on the grass - some of them chewing on a piece of straw while contemplating the tales told of heroes of long ago ... and not so long ago.

And for those whose nose leads them there, booths and tents have been set up with food for the common folk - roasted poultry on stick sprinkled with just a touch of dragonsbreath spice, sticks of December Flavored Ice, chunks of fresh-baked bread, clusters of berries, and fruits of all the lands. (Though, there's quite a bit of green in many of the fruits, since much of it has been rushed to ripeness with what magic can be afforded in the short time since the great Winter has ended.)

Sculptures have been erected in ice, on short notice but in admirable detail - and a touch of irony - of the heroes who helped bring about the overlong Winter: Lord Explorer Thomas, spying off into the horizon ... Lady Redmane, astride Ahearn Lord of Horses ... Princess Angel, beatific and glowing ... Sir Lefallon, shield and sword held high ... Page Simon (who looks very much like Sir Lefallon, leading to some confusion among observers) ... Sorceress Nymuae clutching a tome and wand ... Golden Hawk Rachel with a book that hints at her knowledge of languages ... Golden Hawk Hannah looking indomitable ... and more besides.

There's some commotion for a moment, as a shadow passes overhead ... and a flock of fire-breathing gryphons shoots by! With a flash and a shower of sparkles, an enchanter startled by the display must have reflexively acted to dispel the illusion ... for suddenly, there is only a flock of mischievous ravens, who caw raucously and scatter to the far corners of the courtyard.

"Fire-breathing gryphons," Redmane says quietly, shaking her head at the display while grinning. In her green-and-gold ball gown, she hardly resembles the armored knight depicted in ice as she searches for familiar faces amid the throng.

On the other hand, Thomas looks just like his sculpture. In fact, he's currently trying to imitate the pose. "Well, I think they got the likeness of me perfectly. Rachel too, really," he says, then adjusts the lightweight jacket he currently wears over clothing finer than his usual attire: a light, very clean, white shirt, dress pants, and polished black boots.

Over there, Sir Lefallon seems to have been buttonholed by yet another young maiden, this one a sweet-looking golden-skinned lass with long backswept ears and a brushy golden tail from which two bells dangle. bing! "I've heard so much about your exploits, good sir," she purrs, leaning toward the uncomfortable-looking knight, who is still dressed in the silvery mail he wore earlier.

Sir Lefallon sends "help me" eyes toward any of his friends close enough, as he stammers, "W-w-well, I'm sure they were exaggerated."

"Exaggerated? More like understated!" Thomas says helpfully and glances over toward Sir Lefallon. "You should have seen how brave he was when we infiltrated the Fortress of the Year's End."

"Really!" breathes the foxish young woman. "That must have been exciting!" Her golden eyes consider Thomas, then flick sideways to the statue, before settling on him again. "Oh! Aren't you Lord Explorer Thomas? The one that everyone says found the Lord Protector Melchizedek?"

A black-haired, pale-skinned young woman comes towards Tom and Simon, licking delicately at an ice-treat sculptured improbably into the shape of a butterfly. In her other hand, she carries a few wax-wrapped confections that sprinkle powdered sugar from their open tops. Coming into sight of the boys, she smiles and waves with the butterfly-ice.

"The one and only! I'm one of a kind, and quite certain people are happy about that," Thomas replies with his trademark rakish grin. "Though, I can't claim all the credit for that. I certainly couldn't have made it there without my companions: Sir Lefallon, Lady Redmane, and Rachel. Speaking of Rachel, I think I see her now."

Not very far away, Hannah and a blonde knight, arm-in-arm, approach one of the booths displaying a selection of edibles. She looks curiously at the sign advertising "December Flavored Ices" and leans in to speak with her companion. Within moments, they leave the booth with two of the treats in their hands.

The foxish woman beams, failing to notice as Sir Lefallon takes the moment to slip away to attend the Foroove "joust". "Of course, but you led them there. What a wonderful thing to find you here!" Her eyes turn sly. "And which of your companions had you planned to ask to the dance, if you'll forgive my impudent question, Lord Explorer?"

"Ah, that would be the question of the hour, wouldn't it? Sooo many choices ... well, okay, one choice really," Thomas replies with a glance toward Rachel. "Of course, whether she'll accept the invite is another matter."

"Who is your new friend, my lord?" Rachel asks as she comes within earshot. She offers him one of the wrapped bundles. "And where did Sir Lefallon go?"

The golden vixen's bells flick as she drifts closer for a moment to lean over Thomas's shoulder. bing! "Well, I dearly hope that such a hero as yourself won't go unescorted if, by some misfortune, your suit should not fare so well as you hope," she whispers, low enough for only him to hear, then drifts away with a curtsey and smile to Rachel.

"Hmm, not sure, actually. I haven't gotten her name yet. He was with ... huh, he was just here," Thomas muses and glances around, pausing to eye the vixen. "And I think you've gotten us both curious. May we ask your name?"

The vixen glances back, parting her thin black lips as she is about to speak ... but then several Forooves and a large dark-skinned man in the King's livery wander across, blocking their view, her answer lost in the noise of their passage. By the time they have passed by, she is gone. Something about the man strikes Lady Redmane as familiar, but she's sure that she has never seen his face before.

Redmane has picked up some snacks as she makes her own way amidst the vendors, and spots Thomas near the ice-sculptures. Heading over to him, she offers the Lord Explorer a stick with chunks of spiced meat on it. "Thomas, I half-expected you to be swinging from something by now," she says, and glances after the oddly familiar man. "Staying out of trouble so far?"

Simon, who has changed his ceremonial clothes for rather more nondescript faire attire, whistles cheerily as he steps out of a gaming booth, flipping a silvery coin end over end.

Thomas shrugs and says to Rachel, "Guess she got bored with us. May I speak with you for a few minutes in private...?" He, pauses, then grins at Redmane and says, "Hey, there's still plenty of time. Pity you're in a dress; that must really hamper your ability to have fun. Sheesh, you look like such a girl." He takes the stick and then says, "I was expecting this to be a bore, but it's actually turned out to be fun. Now, I need to speak with Rachel for a couple minutes. I'll be right back, okay?"

Rachel laughs at the explorer. "You may have a few minutes of my time, m'lord, and gladly, but only if you promise not to accuse me of 'looking like such a girl'. Your gown is beautiful, Lady Redmane."

"Have fun," Redmane says, smirking as she tries to decide if she's been complimented or insulted.

"Thank you, Lady Ambassador," Redmane says, giving a formal bow to Rachel and managing to keep a straight face.

Thomas grins and says, "Well, I don't mind if you look like a girl." He gestures to an unoccupied side of a nearby booth and says, "Shall we?"

The black-skinned man catches sight of Lady Redmane and beams, exposing brilliant white teeth. He walks over to offer her a formal bow. "Countess Redmane, you're looking quite well," he says. Something definitely seems familiar about him.

Redmane returns the bow, and then it hits her. "Master Destre?" she asks as she straightens back up.

"I don't suppose I want to know why you mind if the LadyKnight looks like one," Rachel says, still smiling. She offers him her hand. "By all means."

The man nods. "Indeed, I am! And in your debt, for all that you have done for us."

"Does that include cleaning out your stable?" Redmane whispers to the man, grinning wickedly.

Destre looks surprised, then laughs. "Someone had to do it, Countess, and I believe the honorable Mr. Kuning was paying you for the chores, was he not?" He looks not at all guilty. "Are you enjoying the festival?"

Thomas takes it and leads her over to the quieter spot, saying, "Well, it has to do with not looking like herself, really ..." He settles in and looks around to make sure they're alone. HE then glances down at the stick Redmane gave him. His brow furrows and he looks around, shrugs,then tucks it behind his ear. "I know this isn't exactly the ideal spot, but..," Thomas says, pausing as he's unsure of how to do this.

"I've never been to anything so grand," Redmane admits to Destre. "But nobody has asked me to dance yet."

The dark-haired girl holds Tom's hand lightly in her own, watching him. She blinks several times when he sticks the skewer of meat behind his ear. Restraining a smile, she waits, patiently, for him to continue.

"Really! Well, I'm sure you have naught to fear, Countess," Destre says with a smile. "You look wonderful in that gown, I hardly recognized you-- I usually saw you in overalls."

Redmane blushes at the compliment. "Thank you. My wardrobe is somewhat limited in Ainigton," she explains. "It's good to see you in human form. You cut as fine a figure as a man as you did a stallion," she counter-flatters.

Simon stops to ponder the ice sculpture of himself, standing by the others. He rubs his chin thoughtfully.

Thomas grins sheepishly and says, "Well, I wasn't sure where else to put it. Anyway..." He shifts his weight onto one leg and says, "Honestly, I'd prefer a nice, quiet, moonlight evening to ask this, but. Okay, argh, I'm waffling." He takes in a deep breath and counts to three. "What I'm wanting to ask is," he says slowly and calmly this time, "is if you'd be willing to accompany me to the dance later? I know I'm not the most clean cut fellow here, or the most skilled in the art of romance, but I'd be honored if you would."

The black-skinned man laughs. His hair is longish and pulled back into a neat thick ponytail, and he looks more at duty in his livery than a fairgoer. "It's kind of you to say so, Countess, but I've been reliably informed that I'm rather horse-faced." He glances sideways, scanning the crowd.

Now Rachel blushes, lowering her eyes and no longer containing her smile. "Thank you, my lord explorer. I would be delighted to be your companion," she says, softly. Her eyes flick up to meet his, shining.

"Are you on duty tonight?" Redmane asks the man. "You don't expect any trouble at a celebration, do you?"

Snapping his fingers, the former page of April sets off toward the booth selling ices. A moment later, he returns and sets to work applying some of the unflavored ice he's just gathered to his own statue, decorating it with a mustache.

Destre shakes his head. "Oh, no! It's just my habit to keep an eye out. Ah, about the dance--" His voice trails off as he seems to be considering something.

Thomas smiles and looks relieved, releasing the breath he didn't realize he was holding. "I'm honored, then," he says to her. "I'll even do my best to behave. After all, I'll have plenty of time to be my more, ah, unusual self now that you're assigned as Ambassador," he says with a playful grin. "And oh, yes, I'd like it if you called me Thomas, or Tom. We've been through far too much together to be so formal all the time. I hope I don't seem as such a stranger anymore?"

Redmane's eyes go wide as she catches Simon's art criticism over Destre's shoulder, but she brings herself back under control and turns her attention to her companion.

Simon holds the mustache on to make sure it's taking, then steps back to consider the effect. "Hmmm, maybe a beard," he mutters.

"No, you do not," Rachel says, still looking shy. "In fact, it's a little strange to remember that you really are the famous Lord Explorer Thomas, and not just Thomas, the young man I met in Ainigton."

Destre's eyes seem fixed on a point over Redmane's shoulder, and then he startles as he notices Redmane is watching him. "Oh! Excuse me. I just remembered something that I need to attend to, Countess," he says with a smile. "If you'll excuse me?"

"Well, I'm a combined version, as odd as that sounds," Thomas says with a nod. "It's strange, even to me," he adds with a smile. "But really, it doesn't matter. It's not the fame or the legends that are important; it's the people you meet and the lives you touch. And you ... well, I wouldn't be here without you. I owe you more than I could repay, for all you've done and shown me."

"Of course," Redmane says, still not used to the Countess title. She steps aside and makes her way towards Simon. "I hadn't realized you had such an artistic side, Simon," she says to the boy, looking up at the improvised moustache on the sculpture.

Simon touches up his artwork, adding a goatee, but startles as Redmane approaches, causing the improvised beard to fall off and crack. "Drat! Well, actually ... I wanted to see if I'd look good with a mustache," he admits to her.

An imposing stranger, tall, muscular, with albino-pale skin comes to join the red-haired knight and erstwhile page. He puts a finger to the side of his face, studying Simon's handiwork, then the boy himself, as if to decide on how good the likeness is. His expression appears quite grave.

"I've never been a big fan of facial hair myself," Redmane begins to tell Simon, only to trail off as she notices the stranger. "What do you think, sir?" she asks the man.

The foppish fox bard, who happened to be passing by just now, gasps at Redmane's comment, then keeps right on walking.

The stranger is clean-shaven, with a strong, square jaw and an aquiline nose. He considers Simon and his bearded statue for a moment longer, then turns to regard Redmane. His eyes are intensely blue. "I believe it depends on the face, my lady," he says. "It surely would not suit yours, and I do believe it looks ... just a little ... out of place on your friend's."

Simon wrinkles his nose. "It's either that I grow facial hair if he doesn't, or go through life mistaken--"

The young page's attention is distracted by the golden fox who has returned and captured his hand. "There you are! Did you forget about the dance?" she says with sparkling eyes, her tail jingling a merry tune.

Redmane bites off her suggestion about Simon cutting his hair differently when the vixen-girl takes his hand. Apparently, she must think he's Sir Lefallon!

Simon blushes, trying futilely to draw his hand back. "Excuse me? Dance?"

A fanfare blows, announcing the approach of the King and Queen. Queen Seraph, clad in the royal blue and white, looks ineffably beautiful as always, an ermine-trimmed silk cape draping back from her shoulders to reveal a springtime gown. Her hand rests in the arm of her husband, who looks a little younger now than he had in Ainigton, but he holds a solemn dignity. On the Queen's left walks her brother, Lord April, and they are further flanked by an array of pages, squires, ladies-in-waiting, and others simply enjoying the presence of royalty. The King and Queen smile and wave graciously to all, but their gaze keeps returning to one particular little blond-haired girl who walks with them.

The vixen smiles wider, clasping Simon's hand with both her hands. "Of course, silly! You said that you'd escort me!" As the page seems too mystified by this turn of events to put up much of a struggle, she tugs him away into the crowd.

Somewhere in the distance, a voice can be heard, "But, I'm..." "Don't be silly! He's got a mustache!"

Just before the sound of the trumpets, Hannah approaches where Thomas and Rachel stand, still on the arm of the blonde man they saw her with earlier. In fact, they both seem to be quite wrapped up in their own soft conversation until they are almost nose-to-nose with everyone else. The auburn-haired girl starts a bit, then laughs in embarrassment. "Oh! I am sorry. I must start paying a little more attention to my surroundings." She trails off, smiling shyly up at her escort, then looks back to the others. "How do you like the faire?"

Rachel's cheeks redden further at Tom's words, and for some moments she doesn't seem able to get any words out at all. She's just opening her mouth to say something when Hannah and Tristan bump into them, and Rachel looks almost relieved. "I like of it very much, m'lady, m'lord," she says, bobbing. She glances shyly back to Tom, and smiles again.

For his part, Tristan wears a smile bordering on the goofy. He bows to Rachel and Thomas, holding Hannah's hand in the crook of his left arm, his right hand lightly over hers.

As if the Queen had been replicated in miniature, the little princess shares her mother's appearance and colors. Her own gown isn't nearly so elaborate given the young girl's insistence it be light so she can hurry around and see everything. And following her parents has given her a chance to do exactly that. Now as she nears the gathering spot of her friends she makes a point of explaining ice cream to her parents. "In Ainigton, we have December flavored ice but it's not really ice and it's not really flavored by December. It's flavored by funny-sounding German and French names which are languages from way across the ocean -- Rebecca told me so -- and it's made from cream. I think."

Thomas momentarily glares at Hannah and says, "You have amazing timing. No, really." He then grins and says, "And ah, I see Hannah be having a good knight, eh? Pleasure to see you both again. The fair's been grand; much more relaxed than I would have expected."

A tall man with a long mane of iron-grey hair and lambent yellow eyes, with a wolfish cast to his features, smiles quietly at the princess's discourse. "Would you like to try some of the ice, Your Highness?" he inquires.

The King listens to his daughter, seeming rapt, his eyes twinkling. "Really? And which was your favorite flavor? A funny German word or a funny French one?"

Hannah gives the Lord Explorer a puzzled look in response to his glare and his comment, but decides to shrug it off. "I am glad to hear that, milord. Knowing that you usually aren't the one for celebrations," she quips lightly and arches an eyebrow.

"Sure! I'd like that," answers the princess to the wolfish man. "I'm sorry I didn't bring you any ice cream. But it would get all melty now that Spring is here." Then turning to her father she says, "I like the funny-sounding German word. It has bits of chocolate and some strawberries."

"Well, formal celebrations are not usually to my liking. This, however, is a pleasant surprise. Plus the company makes it more than worth being here," Thomas says with a glance to Rachel. He then peers around the crowd and noticing the figure from December before saying, "Sir Tristan, I will want to speak with you a bit later, by the by. It's nothing major, so nothing to worry about."

Hannah, however, does look a bit worried at this statement and gives Thomas a stare that says clearly, What are you up to now?

Tristan offers a nod to Tom's request, looking as though nothing in the world could worry him on this evening. "As you like, m'lord. And I could not agree with you more, as regards the company at this festival." He gives a sidelong glance to Hannah, smiling, though the edges on his smile dim a little as he catches her worried look.

Thomas just smiles at Hannah.

Lord December smiles lupinely. "In the heart of my castle, Princess, it is always Winter. Thus, our specialty of flavored ice. Though I cannot say what truly December flavored ice would taste like, I suspect it would be rather ... minty." He steps from the procession toward the booths, and the crowds seem to part from his way as if by magic.

The wolf-lord's eyes touch upon Thomas as he passes. "Lord Explorer. Though Winter's time passes, it is with gladness that I yield the stage to Spring." He smiles again.

The King nods knowledgeably to Alice. "We may have something similar, here in Mirari. I understand there's quite a variety available.

Rachel wrinkles her nose at Tom, licking again at her icy butterfly. Surprisingly, the treat doesn't seem to have melted any during the interval.

Thomas nods to Lord December and says, "And besides, one must experience all the seasons, so that they can fully appreciate the beauty of each during its reign.

December smiles and inclines his head in a nod. "Such has always been my feeling, my lord."

Angel watches Lord December pass through the crowd a moment before she returns her attention to her father. "In Ainigton, we put root beer in a cup with ice cream and make root beer floats. Or with banana and make splits. And sometimes we cover them with chocolate, or caramel, or marshmallows, or sprinkles, or nuts, or cherries, or ... " She continues to list each and every ice cream toping she can remember, with an air of importance.

Hannah frowns at Thomas's smile, then while he is distracted by Lord December, whispers into Sir Tristan's ear. "I would tread very carefully into any 'non-worrisome conversation' with the Lord Explorer. He has taken me by surprise a few times in this way...."

Tom pauses, grins, then removes the stick from behind his ear and gnaws on the meat. "I forgot about this, but it'sstill good," he comments in between mouthfuls.

The fey knight quirks an eyebrow at Hannah's whisper, directing a curious glance at the explorer. He looks back at Hannah, as if to ensure that the young woman is well. He leans forward to murmur something to her, too soft for the other couple to hear.

Rachel stops licking at her ice sculpture and sidesteps away from Thomas, looking a little green. "I've got a cheese-filled pastry here, if you're hungry, Thomas," she says, offering the still-wrapped package to him.

Lord December grins with silent wolfish laughter to Thomas before he proceeds onward to the booth where a flurry of excitement greets him for a moment before he returns to the procession with a treat for Angel: an ice sculpture of a pegasus. "Though it is not chocolate and strawberries, Your Highness," he says gravely. "I am told that the flavor is reminiscent of roses. The makers express their fondest hope that you will find it tasty."

Thomas looks at Rachel curiously. "What? It's not like I dropped it or something. My hair is clean, honest. Well, I guess it was clean, anyway," he says with a grin. "If it bothers you, I'll toss it."

Hannah blinks a few times at the knight's words, then laces her fingers through his and squeezes his hand lightly. "Not unless you count our rounds of verbal sparring as 'harm,' sir knight. Which is why I thought to warn you of that quirk of his."

"It's not my stomach, Thomas," Rachel protests. But she still looks a little queasy.

The blonde princess beams at the wolf-lord. "I'm sure it will be very tasty. I do hope Lady Ariel won't mind my eating a pega-ice though." The little girl peers behind her to check for the pegasus, doesn't spot her immediately, and then gladly accept the ice cream from Lord December. "I like roses," she tells him before she tastes the flavored ice, "-and I like this! You know horses like flowers too. Destre liked to eat all of Agatha's and my father's."

"And oh, hey, that reminds me. Since you're all here, I've been thinking about our next adventure. I think we should head out towards the lands of the Djinn. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day. What do you think?" Thomas asks those present as he tosses the stick in a nearby bin.

Destre, trailing the royal procession, looks studiedly innocent.

Next to Redmane, the platinum-haired man glances to the sculptures again. "What think you? The boy might grow long hair, instead of a long beard, if he wished to differentiate himself from his doppelganger."

"Yes, those were my thoughts as well," Redmane says to the man, then offers her hand. "I am Lady... uh... Countess Redmane, sir. A pleasure to meet you."

Kuon chuckles. "Aye, Your Highness, I seem to remember a mischievous black stallion who had the habit of snuffling Redmane's clothes for extra treats. Speaking of which, I'll be just a minute..." The small, long-legged fellow moves away from the procession to procure some of the meat-skewers for himself as well, selecting one which has had a coil of puffed pastry wrapped about it. He catches sight of the others and casts a smile their way.

The tall stranger turns fully to Redmane, accepting her hand and bowing over it. "It is a pleasure to see you, as always -- Countess, is it now? But we have had the pleasure of meeting long ago." His blue eyes glint as he rises, smiling.

Redmane freezes, and looks more closely at those eyes. "Ahearn?" she whispers, growing pale. "How?"

The pale man's smile turns to a grin. "A gift, from your sorceress friend." He glances around, then nods his head to one of the balconies, where a familiar strawberry-blond figure stands, watching. "She thought your friend Thomas would never let you live it down if I asked you to dance in my usual shape." He turns back to Redmane. "What do you think? Do I make a respectable man?"

Sir Lefallon says from behind Thomas, muffled by the tent fabric he's using for modest camouflage from inquisitive young maidens, "A voyage sounds good right about now, milord."

"Quite right. I suspect that Al-Zephyr will be very happy to see you again, anyway," Thomas tells the tent.

"Yes," Redmane blurts out, then covers her mouth and looks around to see if Thomas is looking their way. "But... don't let Thomas know, okay? He'll still find a way to tease me about it," she whispers, some color returning to her cheeks. "You can actually dance?"

Rachel chuckles. "I cannot say I am so eager to escape civilization. And I have new duties, now ... though I cannot say I am entirely sure I know how I am going to execute them."

The tent grins. "I wonder if the King wants me to get started doing official stuff right away," Sir Lefallon's voice says. "Or if he'll let me have time off."

Angel glances between the wolf-lord and the dog-man and seems to compare "canineness" of the two until Kuon starts back. As he returns she says, "There are so many people in Mirari! And everyone is a little different. Do you know I think I want to meet them all? But maybe after being home for a while first."

Kuon munches on his snack happily as he returns. "More every minute," the huntsman assures Angel. "But it's a good thing to want to know your people."

Hannah considers Thomas's question, then grins when the "tent" speaks. "Well, it sounds like you have at least one person for your next exploration."

"I can do many things, my knight. The good Lady Rebecca ensured that I would move as well as a man as I do as equine. I was rather concerned about this business of balancing on just two legs all the time, but it feels surprisingly natural." Ahearn takes a half-step backwards, then forwards, by way of demonstration. He does move easily. "And I shall endeavor to say nothing of it to Thomas, if you prefer."

"You'll learn as you go. After all, it's not as interesting if you know how to do everything right the first time," Thomas says to Rachel and grins. "Besides, I'm certain you'll do quite well, regardless." He then hmms and rubs his chin, musing, "And that reminds me. I need to find an assignment for you, Hannah. I'm sure I can think of some interesting things for you to do."

Destre mutters, "I'm the one being criticized for having an appetite?..." He holds his hand out to Kuon for the other snack, which the huntsman hands over with a lazy grin.

Hannah narrows her eyes suspiciously. "What sort of assignment? I had just thought I would be sent to serve at one of the Golden Hawks' outposts for now...?"

Sir Tristan, who had been looking relaxed again, tenses at Tom's suggestion. Unconsciously, he tightens his touch on Hannah's hand a bit.

Grinning, Redmane says, "I can't wait to dance now. It's still a surprise to see Destre and Kuon as men." She links her arm with Ahearn's, and asks him, "What do you think of all this, tonight?"

"And I'm so glad to be out of the snow!" exclaims the blonde girl as she continues on talking to Kuon. "I do like the snow, but it's terribly hard to see anything in it. Or move! If I wasn't on a horse I would have just sink right down and I think just my head would stick out. And that would be not-neat-at-all." She gives an apologetic smile to Lord December, adding, "I do like snow! And wolves."

"Oh come now, that would be dull," Thomas replies with an ominous grin. "But in all seriousness, I think it would be good if we sent someone to visit each of the Houses in turn. We should make a concerted effort to re-establish good ties with all the Houses and find out how we can best aid each for the greater good of all. I think you'd be a good choice, considering you've got experience dealing with nobility."

Lord December chuckles. "No offense is taken, Princess. All seasons must take their turns. Mine had gone unseemly long."

The Lord of Horses puts his hand over Redmane's when they link arms, in imitation of Tristan's gesture. "I think Mirari is a world stranger and more wonderful than even I realized, Redmane," he says, looking around them. "I am grateful to be a part of it ... and glad that you are, too."

The newly-appointed Countess blushes at Ahearn's sentiment. "You'll make my head swell," she says. "But I'll still need to return to the mortal realm for extended periods... well, as far as time flows here in Mirari they'd seem that way. Ihave responsibilities there, after all."

Ahearn nods to Redmane. "I know you will. But now that I know where you've gone, you may find it's a little harder to get rid of me, this time around."

Blinking, Redmane asks, "Do you mean to visit me in Ainigton then, Ahearn? I'll need to make... arrangements... if so."

"I won't be much trouble," Ahearn promises, his eyes twinkling. "I'm a grown horse. I've been taking care of myself in the wild for Years now, without you. But I'll admit it's not as enjoyable."

"And you won't mind if I get a boyfriend?" Redmane asks, carefully. She's already got one protectivebig-brother, after all. "I'll be starting high-school in another year."

Ahearn works his jaw, turning his face to one side. One side of his mouth smiles. "Let's burn that bridge when we come to it, shall we, my knight?" he suggests.

"Very well, my valiant steed," Redmane says, putting on her Countess face, but grinning through it anyway.

Hannah's expression clears at this, then becomes thoughtful. "Ah, I see. That does sound like a good idea. Perhaps such visits would also be helpful in recruiting new members to the Golden Hawks from the Houses. Our ranks have become a bit thin in recent Years." Then her brow furrows at a sudden idea. "Of course, this would mean that I would have to see Lord February again. Hmm. I suppose I could manage that."

"You could start with Lord April," Tristan suggests, helpfully. "I'm sure there are still tensions between the Fall and Spring Houses that could use smoothing over."

Angel wiggles her fingers. "I thought my fingers were frozen for a while! But I hadn't really ever seen so much snow before. I saw a little bit, but that wasn't quite the same you see." She nibbles on her flavored ice a bit before crunching off a piece of the wing. After she's done with that she glances around and asks, "Does anyone know how to dance? I can sing, and um, play the flute, but dance classes were for older students so I never really got to learn."

"Oh, just tell Lord February that if he gives you any grief, Thomas will be sure to let Lady Cherise know how the heir to her House is acting," Thomas replies with a sly grin.

A large bearish man with brown hair and a wild beard wanders down the aisle of booths, followed closely by a small woman with dark eyes and long, lightly colored blonde hair, almost white, her nose tipped with black. "Oh, look, Nathaniel!" the woman exclaims, pointing toward Hannah. "She made it! Well, we knew she made it, but there she is!" "Eh, Brionna? Oh, aye! So it is! And squiring a handsome fellow around, I see."

"And yes, you could start with House April. After all, they have been stuck in the middle of all this," Thomas agrees with a solemn nod to Sir Tristan.

Hannah smiles up at Tristan. "I could, at that." Then she turns and chuckles at Thomas' suggestion. "You know, you never did tell me how you came to know the founder of House February."

The King tells his daughter, "Dancing is quite easy, Angel. You just follow the man's lead. It's especially simple in your case. Allow me to demonstrate." He holds out his arms to the little girl.

"That, dear Hannah, shall have to remain a mystery. There is no need to dredge up old wounds and forgotten stories," Thomas replies to Hannah.

The princess takes her father's hands. "I'd dance with Rebecca some times. Rebecca is a very good dancer. I think she would lead because she'd say, 'No no, not like that,' and show me and 'I'm glad you're light, Alice, or my feet would be no more,' and show me some more."

Hannah's eyes lose a bit of their sparkle when she realizes to what Thomas is referring. "Perhaps not, Lord Explorer," she replies solemnly.

An old-sounding but familiar voice says by Thomas, "Ah, but the forgotten stories can be so entertaining!" The speaker is a hunched old man with long backswept ears, his threadbare cloak replaced for one of finer cloth, holding a lute. "Why such long faces, my friends? It's a time of celebration!"

Brionna bounds toward Hannah to greet her with great enthusiasm and be introduced around. "Hannah!" she squeals. "You look great! We heard they made you an official Golden Hawk! And Lord Explorer Thomas! And Sir Lefallon! And Sir Tristan! Oh, Minstrel Sam, you made it through the war!" Nathaniel follows behind at his own lumbering pace.

"This one is a bit to close to me for me to wish to share in the open air," Thomas replies. "I was wondering where you were, Sam." He turns and peers close at the old minstrel, commenting, "Hmm, you don't look like you've been slapped recently, so I suppose you've not been frequenting the pubs." He grins.

Kuon whispers to Destre, "So can you dance?"

Destre replies, "I've been told that I dance as if I had two left feet."

The King lifts Alice up, and places her feet gently on top of his own -- left on right, right on left. "She has it exactly right, my dear," he says. "Now." He places one of Alice's hands on his waist, and holds the other in his own, then dances a careful waltz with her, holding her steady with one hand on his shoulder.

Hannah startles at Brionna's sudden appearance, but recovers swiftly and embraces the woman before introducing her to those in their group that she does not know. "Yes, I'm officially one of your number now - and with an assignment from our own Fearless Leader." She winks at Thomas before turning to welcome Nathaniel, as well.

Minstrel Sam grins. "Ha! Give me time," he says. "The wine's flowing freely, but for me, I've been chasing down the stories. And what stories they are! Why, I heard tell about..." He glances toward Rachel by Thomas's side. "Well, Tom, is this the raven-haired lady that I've heard of who was ever at your side in all that trekking about?"

Nathaniel leans over to give Hannah a bear hug as well. "An assignment, lass? What has he got you doing, the taskmaster that he is?" he rumbles curiously. Brionna bounces up and down. "Yes, tell us, tell us!"

Rachel shakes her head. "No, you must be thinking of some other raven-haired lady. I haven't been at his side -- I'm the one who's been hiding behind him and the others." She grins.

Sir Lefallon says to the others, "I'm going to buy a cloak. A hooded cloak." He grins and walks down the aisle.

"Dancing is fun," enthuses the little girl to her father. "Except when you knock things over. But I bet that's why dance floors are so big. Do you think I'll learn how to dance father? I'd like to be very good at dancing and not have to stand on the feet of lords."

Thomas coughs and grins at Rachel. "Yes, this would be Lady Rachel of October. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't even be here now," he says, then takes Rachel's arm in his. "And, regardless of what she just said, she's been quite brave. She followed me into the dark underground, faced down wraiths, and insulted goblins right beside me."

Hannah grins and shrugs apologetically over to Tristan as he gives the bouncing woman a wary look. "And it's not filled with danger, either - unless mingling with grumpy Lord February is a threat to life and limb now," she laughs and begins to tell them all about it.

"Right behind him," Rachel mouths at the minstrel.

Minstrel Sam grins wider. "Well, and now, whom shall I believe? Tom's a man o' great understatement in talking about himself, I find, an' yet he's ever one to speak well of others. And I've heard tell that Lady Rachel, she's one who speaks quietly and carries a large crossbow." He bows to them, sweeping his hat off his head. "I'll have to forego telling some of my stories o' the Lord Explorer this round, I see-- I think I'll stick with the part about kittens!"

Tom face-palms.

King Marc nods to Angel. "I'm sure you'll learn anything, and everything, you want to, my dear. At least well enough that you don't have to stand on the feet of lords."

"But, it's not like it was all that dangerous anyway. I mean, what, I think the worst we faced was the dragon? Okay, the wraith was kind of nasty too. Surely that didn't scare you?" Thomas says to Rachel and grins.

"If I learn things will I get bigger?" inquires the princessof her father as she follows on his steps. "Because I don't want to stand on boxes and stairs and things either. All my friends are very tall now."

Brionna and Nathaniel catch up quickly with Hannah's stories. On their part, it seems, the Golden Hawks of Hawksmoor Keep were glad when November's troops reached them, and some of them were rotated back to the Mews, but Nathaniel and Brionna managed to be among those outside Mirari's walls when the armies came. "We got the word to all the Lords and Ladies we could reach," she says, proud of her small part in things. "And we kept them in touch with each other so they could join together for that last push. Whew! Exciting work-- but not half as exciting as yours, you were right in the middle!"

"You forgot the Vyglari," Rachel reminds Tom. "And that army of spiders. Oh, and the wyvern."

"I'm very disappointed about the wyvern. I still wish I could have ridden it," Thomas laments.

"Someday, Thomas. Someday."

Minstrel Sam grins at Tom's look and listens, visibly taking notes.

"And hey, at least the Wyvern helped out with the spiders. But none of that was to ever be scared over. It was fun," Thomas insists.

Minstrel Sam whispers to Lady Rachel consolingly, "It's all right, lass, but I've found it helps to carry a heavy wineskin with you. If he starts sounding mad, you hit him with it, and if that doesn't work, it'll help you forget the pain!"

"You had fun. I was scared. At least you weren't missing every single thing you aimed at," Rachel retorts.

Hannah grimaces at the mention of "being in the middle," but she smiles soon after, to let them know that her displeasure wasn't meant in earnest. "That's certainly a good way of putting it - and right up against the main ranks of the Destroyer's forces, too! I'm so very glad that you and Nathaniel were in the position you were, though. It helped a great deal to have you help coordinate the forces."

To the minstrel, Rachel adds, "I'll take that to heart."

"This is why I prefer a sword or staff. Between you and me, I would've probably missed with the crossbow too," Thomas tells Rachel. "You were indispensable in deciphering the languages we ran across."

Minstrel Sam laughs. "Good girl! Well, I'd best be off to earn my keep. Fare you well, Tom, and may he not drive you insane, Lady Rachel!" He sweeps a bow to his friends and heads in the direction of the dancing.

The Queen leans over to pat Angel's back, smiling. "I'm sure you'll get bigger, too. Maybe not as big as all the lords. But you won't need to stand on boxes."

"If you see Oberia over with the dancers, tell her she owes me one dance this eve!" Thomas shouts after Minstrel Sam. He then looks back to Rachel and smiles, "You should at least know I have mellowed out, really. I'm not near as wild as I used to be, so no need to listen to ol' Sam. Come, let us wander the faire and participate in a few games before the dance." He looks to the others and says, "Sorry to leave all of you, but I am sure I'll see all of you later tonight. And remember, Tristan, we have to talk." He grins, then pats Rachel's arm, saying, "After you."

Angel smiles at her mother. "I hope so! I want to be taller than Gabriel so I can call him squirt! I should bring Gabriel and my Ainigton family some presents too. Gabriel is upset because I got a magic unicorn and he only got a glove," she tells her parents. "Maybe you could meet them too? I'm sure they'd like to meet you. I always told them all about Mirari so I'm sure they'd already know what we've been doing and that faeries exist. So I'm sure visiting would be okay."

Hannah replaces her hand within the crook of Sir Tristan's arm and gives him a gentle smile before looking back to the other Golden Hawks. "Yet for all the adventures I've had, I am glad to be with everyone once more, and at peace." She gives the Lord Explorer a sidelong glance as he moves off before adding, "Well, at least as much at peace as one can get with our 'Firebrand' around, eh, Nathaniel?"

"And, well, the big story is all over isn't it? So I guess I'd have to tell them about the ending." Angel tilts her head and smiles, adding, "I would say ... And they lived happily ever after. That's how faerie tales are supposed to end."

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.