Date: 2008-09-07 00:48 Subject: Log: Return to the Caucus Security: Public Mood: calm Tags: arali, sieren

IC Date: day 9, month 12, turn 6 of the 7th Pass
OOC Date: Played between 7/7 and 7/12 2008

SUMMARY: Sieren and Arali bid farewell to Bent Tree and return to duty at the Caucus.


Cold. The morning dawns cold on the 9th day of the 12th month, a full eight days after the wedding, seven since the newlyweds took up residence at Bent Tree. The first half of the seven saw the pair settling in at the hold, Arali exploring her new demesne while Sieren took care of business. The second half ... well most would dub it trying out marital bliss. Business is still being taken care of but the staff's been whispering about how much time Sieren and Arali have spent closeted together. Today though, it's cold, very cold and the stablehands blow on their hands as they curry the animals and muck out stables, even though it's relatively warmer in the beasthold. Within the house, Feverel's daughters move about packing things into trunks and bags while the cook works on a large, elaborate breafast for the hold's denizens. As it has been for the last three nights, Arali's bed is empty. When Sieren wakes, he finds the golden tumble of her curls on the pillow beside him and his fingers seek out that mane tenderly. Usually, he'd let her sleep, but today, he slips an arm around her, kisses her cheek and whispers softly in her ear. "Time to wake up, dear. Our ride to the Caucus will be here in a few hours."

Frosty windows and a subtle chill on the air inside give a clue to the weather's extreme, but it's warm here under the blankets. Up to her cheeks in plush covers, Arali curls back into his embrace as Sieren closes the short distance between them with a good-morning kiss. Even so, a groggy and stubborn groan turns to a mumbly, "Just a few more minutes, hmm? It's much too cold." She's full of good excuses to stay in bed these last few days, but the most obvious reason is the easiest for a tired, reluctant mind.

"A few more minutes? We might never get up," Sieren teases, hand playing about naughtily under the covers a little. He drops another kiss to her shoulder, tucks the covers back over her and slips out of bed, brazenly padding to that frosted window and running a hand over the glass, looking out in the white world outside. "It's very cold," he murmurs more to himself than to her.

The tease and the tickle of his hands stir Arali awake, she laughs raspily and reaches back only to find Sieren leaving the bed. Sleepy eyes follow his bold path to the window, trace the now familiar contours of the harper's body without shame. She stays abed, though, and fakes a shiver. "At least I won't have to sit a saddle this trip." Slow to rise, yet Arali finally sits up, blankets still tightly wound 'round her slender frame. "The trip up here was rough enough after one night--but after three? Forget it."

Lingering by the window, Sieren continues to look out thoughtfull, then turns back to her, takes up a seat beside her on the bed and turns one hand over, palm up for her to take if she wishes. "No, just a few heartbeats Between and we'll be back," he says straightforwardly and smiles at her. "Are you ready for it, Arali?" Beat. "Things will be different at the Caucus."

"Hmph," grunts softly, but with a smile, and Arali takes his hand for a quick squeeze. Her eyes drop to their fingers curling together, watch hers then pull away and rest gently over top his instead. "I know." With a pat, the young woman withdraws and takes with her a layer of the covers as she scoots off the bed. "I'm ready--well, I will be after some clothes and a bite to eat." Bare feet mince over stiffly over the rug as she draws open the armoire. "It must be freezing out there and I'm sure Between will seem even colder."

His fingers slip between hers briefly, returning the squeeze and then Sieren's palm flattens out to receive that pat. He watches her go, bundled up in the covers. "Bundle up well," he advises and stands, stretching, pads after her to deliver another kiss to the top of her head, arms around those layers of blankets, then he's retreating into the bathing room to wash and shave and so on. It doesn't take long and he's back, dressing swiftly and efficiently, pulling on boots and checking through the press for any last items he might want to take with him. "I've put the copy of the contract for the hold that's to stay here in Feverel's care. Lock box in his office."

Arali hums pleasantly for that brief embrace, "I will," then collects the necessary items for dress though she passes the voluminous skirts and thick brocades for a more utilitarian two-piece--easier for riding adragonback. She lays out the various items; wool leggings, leather pants, the layers of shirts to go beneath a fetching green tunic heavy with embroidery. They swap places when Sieren returns, Arali ducks into the bathroom for her own morning needs but it's not so deep a room she can't hear his words. "He knows its contents then?" The question seems to answer itself and soon her slim frame returns, now bereft of blanket and in her underclothes. "Will the rest of the staff?"

"Yes, he is aware of my wishes in this matter," Sieren calls in to her as he stands before the mirror putting on his cravat and smoothing it down into his waistcoat before pulling his jacket on. "The rest of the staff will not unless the terms need to be invoked." The harper turns to watch her cross the room, leans against the edge of the commode. "Feverel and I get along well. I consider myself fortunate in this. His family was displaced when my father decided to gift the hold to me. When I was old enough to understand, I reinstated the family here."

A smile drifts along Arali's lips as she passes Sieren at the mirror; fingers tapdance across his shoulders, but she doesn't pause on the way to her neatly arranged garments. It takes little time, and no help at all, to slip on the few but thick pieces. An absent nod is thoughtful, not dismissive, as he explains the minor difference, then the family's original. As she's fastening a decorative belt at her waist, Arali strays closer to her husband. Her fingers lift from buckle to the collar of his shirt, needlessly straightens the set of it. "You're a good man, Sieren. A very fine man, indeed."

A warm smile answers hers for the tapdancing but when she returns to him, fusses at his collar so, his gaze grows more intent. "Arali ... don't mistake a wise political move for anything else," he says gently. "I have my ambitions and I move very carefully within the politics of my family and wide than that." He reaches up to catch her hand, kiss the palm. "But I am not heartless."

Young naivety or willful ignorance, either way Arali remains unconvinced. She concedes to his honesty with a short laugh, however, and pats Sieren's cheek with her so recently kissed palm. "I didn't say you were perfect, dear." The humor continues, the hand drops to fluff through still wild curls. "You may leave that up to me," is the coy line, given with a wink as Arali turns for the brush.

"And I'd never lay claim to it," Sieren counters then laughs merrily at that coy remark. "Perfection incarnate at only 18?" Teasing her back of course and he pushes away from the commode, tidies a few things up while she finishes getting ready. "I'll meet you downstairs then?" And he's moving already to the door, hand to the knob.

Arali spins on a point, strikes another twee pose, and giggles. "Aren't I though?" The soft bristles work gently through snags and tangles as she turns back towards the mirror. Her wry smile therein reflects, gaze flicks to his through the mirror then back. "I'll only be a minute. Save a little klah for me!"

Cracking up a little, Sieren's laughter echoes as he opens the door. "Of course, and oh, smell that? They're sending us off in style, my dear," he tells her as the scent of that breakfast wafts through. "I'll see you shortly." When Arali descends she'd find Sieren seated at the table already working on his meal, looking through some letters that have come in. Bags and other things stacked near the door ready for departure.

Shortly, indeed, Arali descends the stairs in little skips--she knows them well enough, now. Gold curls are up in a sleek, braided bun, and the little touches of rouge and kohl freshen narrow features. Her company during breakfast remains light, quick with humor, as their topics range and appetites rove over the pleasant spread. When it ends and the couple readies the last of their travel gear in the foyer, the staff gather to see them off with well-wishes and warm smiles.

Sieren rises from the meal and stows the letters in his satchel, all but one which he entrusts to Feverel. "I'll see you in a quarter if not sooner," he tells the Steward and claps the man on the shoulder too. "Congratulations again sir, we'll tend to everything as usual," the Steward assures, taking the folded hide and tucking it into the breast pocket of his over-tunic. Sieren turns then as Verlina holds his coat out for him and he slips it on, murmuring thanks. A moment later he's buttoning up, catching up his satchel and holding a hand out to Arali. "Come my dear, I think I hear dragon wings."

Such gracious gestures find equal return in the young lady of the hold, Arali murmurs her thanks to the staff. This repeats to Faliana as she helps her with the fine, fur-lined travel cloak. It wraps and fastens with a belt, engulfs Arali's pin-thin shoulders entirely. "Then let us take flight," she smiles up at him. Her hand barely pokes out as she reaches for Sieren's, the brave smile on Arali's face ready for that first shock of weather and the wind-whipped hop back to Caucus.

A moment later that serious cold is reaching out for them both, ushering them into the late morning sunshine that barely takes the edge off the chill. Just past the courtyard, a brown dragon from Igen, which might be a little odd here at Fort, but the young rider has a Caucus symbol on his sleeve too which might explain things. Some of the staff are swiftly loading things onto the brown's straps and Sieren walks Arali over to the dragon, hands her up to the rider, before mounting himself. "Thank you kindly, J'vrel," he says to the young man who only laughs and smiles at his passengers cheerily. "Sure thing, sir! It's good practice and the mock trial was probably one of the most interesting things yet at Caucus!" A matter of minutes passes and the brown lifts off, the rider checking in with his passengers. Sieren wraps his arms around Arali as the warning about Between sounds. "I'm here with you," he murmurs softly and then the cold really takes them. Not for long. Lemos opens out beneath them next, the brown arrowing down to the Caucus courtyard.

Arali clings to his side as Sieren leads them to the brown pair. The thanks she gives both men for assistance is lost in a squeal against the sudden gust of chilly wind. Fingers manage to wiggle J'vrel a little wave, familiar from the mock trial, but they quickly disappear into the thick folds of her cloak. Between the two, rider and harper, Arali finds a little extra warmth--but even Sieren's secure hold and gentle warning can do little against a bitter snap Between. One, two, three... and there's the familiar Caucus courtyard below. She relaxes into his arms and her hands squeeze them with silent gratitude, resting there until they land.

On the ground, Sieren gives Arali another light squeeze, then slips downward to help J'vrel with their stuff. Some of the Caucus staff turn up to help and it's not long before there's a little train of folks heading inside. Sieren's arm is of course offered again for her to take for the walk to their new quarters. A little train of people towing things forms up and soon enough they're coming to a new door, not the one the harper had before. He smiles down at Arali and swings the door open, leads her inside to have a look while the others pile the trunks and bags and so on on the floor. "Thank you again J'vrel," and more thanks for the other carriers. The brownrider waves jauntily and waggles his brows at Sieren, shooting Arali a meaningful look, then swings the door shut. Alone again. In their new quarters.

Their arrival draws attention from a few students and the teacher nearby the hall's entrance; Arali gives them a wave as she walks by Sieren's side. The space between them is proper enough, for newlyweds. They come upon the new rooms and an eager smile flashes up at him, then her green eyes go to the opening door. As the staff secure their belongings inside, Arali circles the quaint nook they'll share. She peeks into the study, the single bedroom next, and that's when Sieren's round of thanks draw her gaze back. Just in time for J'vrel's little display. "Tch," scolds him merrily, a hand waving him off even as the door's shutting. "Riders. I swear."

Sieren only smiles, casting the odd glance her way for those explorations. "Home again, home again," he quips lightly and draws off his coat, moves to hang it on the hook beside the door meant for it. "How do you like the quarters here?" Once ungarbed, he moves towards her, hands held out for her cloak and some layers.

Arali dances the jiggity-jig part with a short hop away from the bedroom door. The light step, her bright smile, answer his question before words follow suit. "It's lovely, dear. Our tastes match well--the carpet is /beautiful/." Her gaze drops from Sieren to the ruby and amber hues. Fingers pluck the ties of her cloak and it unravels from slender shoulders easily as she holds it out to him. Green eyes lift to pick along other details, the books and the stately bar set. "Classy, classy for sure."

Sieren takes the cloak and hangs it up as well, smiling. "I've indulged a little. Hopefully not too much. I've generally erred on the side of modesty while at the Caucus. So as not to shove anyone's nose in the difference in wealth. I ... do not technically need my Journeyman's salary. But I like to save for a rainy day." The harper nods towards the liquor cabinet. "Drink? Lunch has probably already been served here, but I'm sure we could find something from the kitchens. I've no duties still for the rest of today, though I should catch up on hides before tomorrow."

Another appreciative gaze travels the room again, her head shakes. "Not too much--it doesn't hurt to brag a little, in private." Lashes wink at him as Sieren offers the drink. "I don't mind delaying a little longer. Something to chase away the chill of the weather would be nice, but I'm not hungry." She leads the way to that cabinet, only to assist in setting out two tumblers. "Nabol would make a nice toast, don't you think?"

She takes out the tumblers, Sieren gets the bottle out and works it open, tips golden liquid into glasses. "Yes, I agree about getting warm first." With the liquor poured, he stoppers the bottle again and lifts it her way, smiling. "To a lovely wedding an a happy future," he murmurs quietly before he sips. He waits a little until they've both drunk, until after she's maybe made a toast of her own before saying quietly: "I am planning to have supper here with you, but after, I will be leaving for the night." The shape of things to come, quietly intruding.

Arali only repeats his words warmly, takes and tips her glass to his, the note of it a pleasing ring. She sips boldy to seal the deal, but the next soon after is much smaller. Her eyes on the contents as they lower midway, Arali considers the harper's quiet reminder. "That's fine," doesn't quite seem the right response, a little caught in her throat, but she tries again with a quick laugh. "Of course, I mean. Dinner, then, and on to our own pursuits once more."
Sieren's eyes are intent on her face as she speaks, catches that hitch in her voice and his hand leaves the side of his glass, reaches for her cheek gently. "Yes," simply.

The hand never connects; Arali's lifts to intercept, gentle, and draw his back down at their sides. Her eyes match his gaze and a sideways smile creeps along, but all she says is: "Yes," softly.

A flicker of a wry smile passes across Sieren's face and he squeezes her fingers gently. "I would like it very much if we could continue our evening walks together. Would that please you, my dear?" His own voice sounds briefly, just a trifle unsteady, then it smooths out.
After the squeeze and its return, Arali lets fall that hand back to her side where it idly straightens the wrinkles in her tunic's thick fabric. "Sure, though if it's going to get colder I'll have to shove hot bricks in my jacket to keep on going." There's a laugh that echoes into the glass as she takes a last sip.

Sieren laughs as well and takes another sip from his glass. "We can always ramble the halls together as well Arali. No more eyebrows to raise by us being together," he says quietly, then tips is head towards the study. "The sofa in there is long enough and wide enough for me to sleep on. If you'd prefer your space."

Arali's eyebrow raises, just the one; on the same side, the corner of her mouth tilts askew, too. "Too true, my dear." The empty glass retreats to the little bar's stand, with her hands unoccupied, Arali fidgets for something to give them. They opt for the clean glasses and correct minor misalignments. "I suppose," she answers the last, the sound of her voice easy and practical, "Perhaps we might both prefer our space."

That makes him laugh a little and there's fondness in his gaze as Sieren does so. She moves, fidgets with the glassware and his glass gets set down too and his hands reach lightly for her shoulders. "It might be best for now. Difficult though it might be." A hint of confession in his voice.

This time, Arali doesn't divert his reach. She places her hands lightly over his, angles a fuller smile up at Sieren. "Mmmhmm," hums knowingly and breaks into a short, dry laugh. Hands pat-pat, Arali moves on towards their bags on the floor. "I should unpack my longer jacket if we'll be walking tonight--might as well just plain unpack while I'm at it. Do we have time?"
That smile is returned, Sieren gives those shoulders a light squeeze then nods. "There should be time yes. And I ought to check to see how much has piled up on my desk in my absence," the harper continues. He bends to kiss her forehead lightly then releases her, steps away. "I'll see you shortly, my dear."

Arali's chuckles again for the little kiss and nods as her husband leaves, a glance back shows a smile still there. "Shortly," she agrees, and dutifully snags the nearest bag for sorting. Once the door closes, determination levels that soft expression until Arali finishes unpacking the last few things into her new home. When the time comes, she's fresh again with a smile and ready for whatever the weather brings.