A Baron's Return - Still Shiny but with new bits
Moire's court is reasonably crowded these days; the structural damage to the Palace itself was minimal, but on the way here, the destruction was evident everywhere. Some very grand homes are now rubble, in whole or part. And there are some well-known faces missing, reported dead. But here is the queen, resplendent on her throne. When Martin is shown in he is sent straight to the front of the courtiers.
Martin and Yvonne have spent a little time taking a look at the damage, but he wasted little time in coming directly to the palace as was his goal. He gives a sad but confident look about the court acknowledging those missing and giving a ray of hope in that one look in spite of his rather odd appearance. "Your Majesty," He sweeps a low bow in the water as he swims to the front of the courtiers and waits to be gestured forward.
Yvonne is not as adapt underwater as Martin, but she has stripped down to scale trucks and her long red hair for modesty, if she worries about such. She stays behind as he swims forward to greet the queen chosing a bow instead of an underwater curtsey.
"Martin," the queen speaks the name, as if she can scarcely believe it. "We are most pleased to have you amongst us once more."
Martin's smile is genuine and whole as he looks up to meet his Grandmother's eyes, "As am I, your Majesty. Dangerous are the lands beyond our borders with qualities difficult sometimes to manage. I was lucky." He glances over his shoulder at Yvonne then turns back to her majesty. "I am returned intact to your sight."
Intact, yes. Martin may have gathered a few extra bits out in deep shadow, but Yvonne keeps her mouth shut at this time watching with raised eyes the interaction between her cousin and his grandmother.
Moire's gaze travels, quickly, over Yvonne, but barely lingers on her. It seems she only has eyes for her grandson. "We are well pleased," she says. "And have you come home to stay?"
"I have come to stay," Martin's words across the room come a solid ring of bells. "Though I might need to return to those realms from time to time, I will not be lost there again. The journies there have made me stronger." His attention now remains on his Grandmother. Wiser? Maybe not, but indeed there's something more to Martin that wasn't there before. "With your leave, I would like to present to the court, the one responsible for freeing me?"
Looking about as if she expects Martin to present someone else, Yvonne stays silent.
"We are most glad to hear it," Moire tells her grandson, "Most glad to hear that you will, at last, be settling here in Rebma once more. There is much work to be done, Martin. Faiella will need her blood relatives to guard her realm for her while she grows, and the people have need of the blood royal to look to as we rebuild."
Privately, to Martin, Moire has that look... pleased, possessive. She clearly, CLEARLY is taking 'home' and 'stay' to mean here in Rebma. Specifically.
Martin takes the comments in stride, and no less does his expression remain confident. To one knee of course he is as always before her majesty, and he does not yet gesture his cousin forward, not presuming to do something before her majesty wishes. He has clearly learned something about politics in the land above because his next words are clear enough and presented with a keen emphasis on 'here and elsewhere'. "To protect this throne and this land, I will be spending an equal time both here and elsewhere. You will see me more than you have in the past, I do guarantee it, your Majesty, as we rebuild."
And still Yvonne remains silent, she may be somewhat startled about this revelation or she may be making plots to take over Martin's room. Who knows?! But she seems interested in the discussion.
"Hm," Moire answers this, sitting back in her thrown, her frown appearing. Her gaze wanders. Some might describe it as taking on a thousand-yard stare. Some courtier across the court, in the general direction of the queen's gaze, removes herself elsewhere. Finally Moire speaks, glancing back at Martin. "You may rise and present your young lady."
Martin rises as he is bidden, a smooth motion in the water. "Your most reverent Majesty, Queen Moire of Rebma. Deep Queen, She who's brilliance makes the waters stretch as far as the eye can see, the light that guides and the hand that moves. Solace in rough tides and the light in the dark, I present to you, Lady Yvonne, Granddaughter of Princess Fiona of Amber. My friend from above, she is the one who risked her life to sift through the dangerous realms afar to break the hold that Pipe Realm had on me. Without her diligence, I may be there still, lost in an ever changing maze and repeating loop. “
Now, finally, Yvonne has Moire's full attention. "You may approach our throne, Lady Yvonne."
With the Queen's scrutiny on her, Yvonne approaches carefully and then bows lower than before as she stops near Martin. "Your Majesty."
"Lady Yvonne," the Queen repeats the name again, "Granddaughter of our sister's sister. You have saved the life of our grandson, by his own account. You may now request a boon of the Deep Throne for this service."
"Your most reverent Majesty, Queen Moire of Rebma. Deep Queen who makes the water's stretch as far as the eye can see, she who is a ray of shimmering light in the cold ray of darkness and shadow." She mixes Martin's greeting up a bit, "It would be presumptuous to the extreme to ask a boon of your majesty, but if I might ask one it would be to paint you that no matter how far your grandson strays from your realm he will always be caught with the reminder of his obligations here."
Privately, to Moire, Martin says, "It's pretty clear there's no romantic attachment here. Martin hasn't got googly eyes or anything."
Moire sits up, and back. "To paint me. You mean to capture my likeness in a trump?"
Martin looks over to Yvonne with a smile, clearly pleased by her response and waits for the reply.
"Only if you were to allowed it, Your Majesty." Yvonne replies, "I know you have your own forms of communication magics though they are still largely a mystery to me. Still, I would never insult the use and effectiveness of such. And I would be as honored to capture your likeness in more normal variety of painting for my Cousin, because it is my thought that when we see those things that are precious to us, we are reminded of our duty to them."
Moire says, "You may paint us. The details will be discussed at our leisure."
Martin smiles between the two, "Awesome..." he whispers, almost forgetting he's in court, but quickly pulls together his speach, "That would please me a great deal, cousin." his voice is louder during the second part of course.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Yvonne withdraws a few steps--swimming backwards is not exactly her strength as if she expects the Audience has neared conclusion.
Moire nods her head. She keeps her gaze a little too long on Yvonne, then finally speaks, her words broadcast to the courtiers, "It has been too long, Beloved Grandson. For now, we retire, but at the evening tide we will expect you in our privvy chambers to meet your infant aunt, the pride and crown jewel of Rebma.
Martin gestures to her Majesty, "I will be delighted." He is clearly pleased at being requested to do so and he bestows upon her a smooth bow which signals his intent to retreat from the throne area. "I will see you later, then. rest well, Your Majesty, grandmother mine." Martin waits a bit more as is appropriate and takes his leave.
Time will see Yvonne following Martin, though she does not seem to be in a great hurry to leave
Martin and Yvonne have spent a little time taking a look at the damage, but he wasted little time in coming directly to the palace as was his goal. He gives a sad but confident look about the court acknowledging those missing and giving a ray of hope in that one look in spite of his rather odd appearance. "Your Majesty," He sweeps a low bow in the water as he swims to the front of the courtiers and waits to be gestured forward.
Yvonne is not as adapt underwater as Martin, but she has stripped down to scale trucks and her long red hair for modesty, if she worries about such. She stays behind as he swims forward to greet the queen chosing a bow instead of an underwater curtsey.
"Martin," the queen speaks the name, as if she can scarcely believe it. "We are most pleased to have you amongst us once more."
Martin's smile is genuine and whole as he looks up to meet his Grandmother's eyes, "As am I, your Majesty. Dangerous are the lands beyond our borders with qualities difficult sometimes to manage. I was lucky." He glances over his shoulder at Yvonne then turns back to her majesty. "I am returned intact to your sight."
Intact, yes. Martin may have gathered a few extra bits out in deep shadow, but Yvonne keeps her mouth shut at this time watching with raised eyes the interaction between her cousin and his grandmother.
Moire's gaze travels, quickly, over Yvonne, but barely lingers on her. It seems she only has eyes for her grandson. "We are well pleased," she says. "And have you come home to stay?"
"I have come to stay," Martin's words across the room come a solid ring of bells. "Though I might need to return to those realms from time to time, I will not be lost there again. The journies there have made me stronger." His attention now remains on his Grandmother. Wiser? Maybe not, but indeed there's something more to Martin that wasn't there before. "With your leave, I would like to present to the court, the one responsible for freeing me?"
Looking about as if she expects Martin to present someone else, Yvonne stays silent.
"We are most glad to hear it," Moire tells her grandson, "Most glad to hear that you will, at last, be settling here in Rebma once more. There is much work to be done, Martin. Faiella will need her blood relatives to guard her realm for her while she grows, and the people have need of the blood royal to look to as we rebuild."
Privately, to Martin, Moire has that look... pleased, possessive. She clearly, CLEARLY is taking 'home' and 'stay' to mean here in Rebma. Specifically.
Martin takes the comments in stride, and no less does his expression remain confident. To one knee of course he is as always before her majesty, and he does not yet gesture his cousin forward, not presuming to do something before her majesty wishes. He has clearly learned something about politics in the land above because his next words are clear enough and presented with a keen emphasis on 'here and elsewhere'. "To protect this throne and this land, I will be spending an equal time both here and elsewhere. You will see me more than you have in the past, I do guarantee it, your Majesty, as we rebuild."
And still Yvonne remains silent, she may be somewhat startled about this revelation or she may be making plots to take over Martin's room. Who knows?! But she seems interested in the discussion.
"Hm," Moire answers this, sitting back in her thrown, her frown appearing. Her gaze wanders. Some might describe it as taking on a thousand-yard stare. Some courtier across the court, in the general direction of the queen's gaze, removes herself elsewhere. Finally Moire speaks, glancing back at Martin. "You may rise and present your young lady."
Martin rises as he is bidden, a smooth motion in the water. "Your most reverent Majesty, Queen Moire of Rebma. Deep Queen, She who's brilliance makes the waters stretch as far as the eye can see, the light that guides and the hand that moves. Solace in rough tides and the light in the dark, I present to you, Lady Yvonne, Granddaughter of Princess Fiona of Amber. My friend from above, she is the one who risked her life to sift through the dangerous realms afar to break the hold that Pipe Realm had on me. Without her diligence, I may be there still, lost in an ever changing maze and repeating loop. “
Now, finally, Yvonne has Moire's full attention. "You may approach our throne, Lady Yvonne."
With the Queen's scrutiny on her, Yvonne approaches carefully and then bows lower than before as she stops near Martin. "Your Majesty."
"Lady Yvonne," the Queen repeats the name again, "Granddaughter of our sister's sister. You have saved the life of our grandson, by his own account. You may now request a boon of the Deep Throne for this service."
"Your most reverent Majesty, Queen Moire of Rebma. Deep Queen who makes the water's stretch as far as the eye can see, she who is a ray of shimmering light in the cold ray of darkness and shadow." She mixes Martin's greeting up a bit, "It would be presumptuous to the extreme to ask a boon of your majesty, but if I might ask one it would be to paint you that no matter how far your grandson strays from your realm he will always be caught with the reminder of his obligations here."
Privately, to Moire, Martin says, "It's pretty clear there's no romantic attachment here. Martin hasn't got googly eyes or anything."
Moire sits up, and back. "To paint me. You mean to capture my likeness in a trump?"
Martin looks over to Yvonne with a smile, clearly pleased by her response and waits for the reply.
"Only if you were to allowed it, Your Majesty." Yvonne replies, "I know you have your own forms of communication magics though they are still largely a mystery to me. Still, I would never insult the use and effectiveness of such. And I would be as honored to capture your likeness in more normal variety of painting for my Cousin, because it is my thought that when we see those things that are precious to us, we are reminded of our duty to them."
Moire says, "You may paint us. The details will be discussed at our leisure."
Martin smiles between the two, "Awesome..." he whispers, almost forgetting he's in court, but quickly pulls together his speach, "That would please me a great deal, cousin." his voice is louder during the second part of course.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Yvonne withdraws a few steps--swimming backwards is not exactly her strength as if she expects the Audience has neared conclusion.
Moire nods her head. She keeps her gaze a little too long on Yvonne, then finally speaks, her words broadcast to the courtiers, "It has been too long, Beloved Grandson. For now, we retire, but at the evening tide we will expect you in our privvy chambers to meet your infant aunt, the pride and crown jewel of Rebma.
Martin gestures to her Majesty, "I will be delighted." He is clearly pleased at being requested to do so and he bestows upon her a smooth bow which signals his intent to retreat from the throne area. "I will see you later, then. rest well, Your Majesty, grandmother mine." Martin waits a bit more as is appropriate and takes his leave.
Time will see Yvonne following Martin, though she does not seem to be in a great hurry to leave