The Plot

Dawnstar Keep: Library


 * The Library of Dawnstar Keep is a source of wonder as much as it is a source of knowledge, as the majority of the tomes, scrolls, and documents, that can be found here did not previously exist in Fastheld before the rebirth of Light's Reach - or if they did, had long since become lost or misplaced.


 * Though now the second largest source of literary work next to the Stanchion, the basic layout of the library is far from dramatic, following a general "H" path through the various shelves of neatly stacked books and tomes, and the occasional associated effect such as crystal balls and even a human skull or two that are being used as bookstops. The spacious room itself is actually rectangular in shape, but the tall shelves give a misleading sense of fictional design.


 * The carpetting here, it should be noted, is a calm blue with black trim rather than the usual lush red, and the walls that also serve as the North Wing's outer wall even feature a few tall and crystal-clear windows to permit light to stream into the solitude of shelves and script during the day. The stone walls remain that same dark bluish-gray, however, yet most of it remains lost behind the rows of tomes. Tables upon which study rest in the northern ends of the "H" branches, while candles and lanterns can be located when the need arises.

The green-grey moons mirror the shades of Rowena's eyes as she watches them cry, their tears sprinkling down over the refreshingly cool landscape beyond the northern wall. Motionless there before one of the tall windows, Rowena listens to the gentle pattering of rain with a serene expression.

''I walk in the rain. Other people just get wet.''

Was he out there now? galavanting around in search of things to do that would keep him out of doors? Or was he as she, cooped up inside, buried beneath parchment piles in the Tribunal. For his sake, she guesses the latter.

A whisper of cloth comes from the hallway - a shifting of shadows that marks someone bearing a lantern; as late as it is, it seems not to matter to the young man carrying it. It's strange - he bears with him the scents of outdoors - the late-fall touch of leaf and rain, the scent of harvest and the wild places under the moons.

Perhaps, in that, he needs a bath.

Kael moves through the library quietly, though, a hand running through his hair, giving a fond and wistful look to the shelves, moving in the direction of that center area with its tables, and the small handful of books left to put away.

Amidst the noise of rain is something not so like rain. Movement, soft, indoors. Turning her head away from the window, Rowena narrows her eyes in the direction of the door. Curse those shelves, being in her line of sight!

Maybe he'd had enough of the paperwork? Wishfully thinking so, Rowena slinks along a row of shelves, making her way cautiously in the direction of the noise while minding her shadow best she can.

Perhaps it's the whisper of fabric, or just an odd shadow. Perhaps it's just a glimmer on that ring, or just a soft hand touching a book - but Kael raises that lantern, abruptly wary. The more clinical may say that that abrupt change in posture, that shifting of balance, is animalistic, a creature stalked that abruptly realizes it /has/ a stalker. The more kind may just call it caution, wariness, even in this place.

Regardless, he moves on along the row, his own steps soft, shifting and moving along a different pathway in an almost instinctive need to see what causes the noise before it, perhaps, sees him.

Rowena pauses, holding her breath while tilting her head against "Of Drakes and Chitters - A Summary of Feasible and Fanciful Fauna" to listen. It seems perhaps her quarry had moved - was moving. Towards her? Taking great care to inhale and exhale solely through her nose, Rowena lowers herself gingerly to the floor and squints an eye to the gap beneath the shelving in attempts to catch sight of feet.

There are feet - boots so worn that, while comfortable, they probably need replacing - old and cracked, but at least clean. The lantern moves with him, still toward the center of the library - what other glimpses she may get of that moving young mage are impossible to say.

Of more note, perhaps, is/ how/ he moves. Light and predatory, crouched and quick - a certain animal grace and a light, worried snarl.

...Not Serath's feet.

The burning sensation of her blush is almost too much to bear as Rowena hurriedly rises to her feet and berates herself for being so foolish. What was she thinking!? What if that had been the GrandMaster, or Alin, or...or Tiris Kahar!? Now how to play this off? Spontaneously appearing in the middle of the library? No. No she must be after something...

"I've found you now!" She calls out in a strained tone after a shifty-eyed maneuver of decisively pulling her signet ring off and tossing it to the floor. "Your escape has been foiled once again, for never shall you be permitted to steal away from me and dwell in the shadows with your whores of...dust...fuzzies." Dust fuzzies? Even that, coming from her own mouth, was almost too much for the Duchess to keep an earnestly scolding expression as she bends with a stomping knee, swipes the ring up, and jams it forcibly onto her finger. "Hah."

Light, how he relaxes... and then laughs, softly - a near-miraculous transformation... or just a young man that wears his emotions, however they pass, on his sleeve. The lantern? It gets set on a table, Kael's grin wide as he calls back down amongst the books, in the direction of that flickering light. "So y' say. I figure I got away, though, in th' end. Y' scared me t' /death/, y' did."

Apparently, /he/ doesn't let /her/ off the hook so easy. Perhaps not wise, but he's laughing regardless - "I figured y' were a ghost o' a killer o' sommat."

"I am a killer," Rowena admits, remaining behind the book casings a few moments longer until she's sure the blush has subsided. "Of dust fuzzies, which is why I couldn't allow my ring to flee to them. Consorting with the enemy you know, it's frowned upon." Wiggling the ring finger as she does come into fully sight, Rowena shrugs apologetically. "Had I known you were stalking about in such a worried manner I certainly would have revealed myself sooner!"

"I do owe you one apology more, it seems, for I was unable to attend a certain special day of yours. I trust the ceremony was lovely?"

"I... woul' be lyin' if I said I remembered more 'n how beautiful /she/ were." That pronoun has an odd emphasis, the young man's grin never fading. He leans back against that table - "s' alright, Ro... yer grace. I cannae wait fer yer weddin' - wi' at least remember t' eat 't that one." He winks... "An' if ye found dust? M' nae doin' m' job right." He traces a calloused hand over the wood of that table - "Y' need t' hae sommat come in when I cannae - wi' get away from ye."

It's more than one remark of his that brings a more solemn note to her tone and dampens the smile in Rowena's eyes. "Aye...I caught wind of the Regent's decree. I will be sorry to see you go, but...surely it'll not be a permanent stay? You've done so well here in the library that I'm not sure our few servants will be capable of filling your shoes."

"... 't happened afore." Kael shrugs. "I got a bad feelin'. An'... s' a lot o' talk. A lot - m' nae sure th' Marked are goin' t' jus' sit quiet, dependin'." The young man doesn't /quite/ look up to her, then, looking across at a shelf. "Some folks what ken I kin do hae already asked me t' kill fer 'em, t' stop 't. Th' are panicked, afraid - but 't least 's nae what 't was. Northreach hae somewhere t' go if 't goes wrong." He forces the thought away, choosing another topic, tentatively.. he's poor at changing subjects. "I kin find ye sommat y' kin trust, fer th' time b'tween. s' a lady I ken, a dancer, what coul' use a bit o' coin, if y' donnae mind payin' a bit."

"A revolution would go very badly for them," Rowena advises sternly, though her eyes guide her tone back out towards the window, not at him. "Very badly indeed."

Swallowing, she sighs to her feet then meets Kael's eyes again with a small ammount of rejuvenation to her lips. "I'm sure there are coins to spare," Rowena tells him with a knowing wink. "What is her name, the woman you volunteer?"

"Sulina. Last I saw 'er, she were near Lightholder's - but I might kin find 'er, in th' time there is left." Kael looks up to Rowena. "Yer Grace? Fer ye, I woul' do anythin' - but... if what w' are afraid of.. if 't happens, m' nae sure /what/ wi' come of 't. But I wi' do all I kin do t' keep 'em from fightin'. S' no sense 'n 't." That's said with oddly firm conviction. "Sheddin' blood solves nothin'." A nod.

He goes on, though - "She woul' do ye right - I figure. Sh' did m' a kindness sh' did nae hae t' do - an' 't means a great deal what sh' did."

"I understand," Rowena nods, on both accounts. "If you cannot find this woman then worry not for me. Afterall, Northreach is yet within our realm and if I cannot find a book I desire I'll know just where to find you." Offering him a little wink in attempts to hearten the situation, she extends her hand for his.

"Master Firelight, you are of noble heart. If your peers rise into violence, do not do yourself harm in barring their path. It may only confuse your intentions in the eyes of the infantry that will put them down. A blade knows no negotiation."

Kael takes that hand, oddly enough, looking down at it and squeezing it. "Noble heart... m' nae e'en sure what that means. Woul' be lyin' t' tell ye m' nae terrified." He smiles up at her, the worry clearing. "M' jus' a wolf, Rowena." It comes out before he can stop it - if he even notices to try... something about him implies he's largely heedless of the slip. "all o' this donnae make much sense t' me. But I /feel/ fear... I feel th' folk nae understandin'. Wi' turn out. Hae t' turn out. Donnae /ye/ fret - y' got enough t' worry o'er t' start worryin' about me n' Meian."

Had it been in another circumstance, Rowena's Mikin blood may have emerged to correct the freelander's mistake. But it was an earnest moment. They were alone, hidden from the chastising eyes of the outside world, and in the grand scheme of things, what did it matter? Inhaling stiffly, Rowena pats his hand and releases her own. "I'm sure you'll fair well. Northreach is a far cry from the dreariness of the Shadow District, and we are not so far a cry away. My cousin, Celeste, tells me she will also go to Northreach so that the Light can remain alive in the hearts of those who dwell there. If she does, if she is permitted to, I have a suspicion that I'll be paying her visits every so often."

The young man brightens noticably - "Aye? Wi' ... y' wi' hae t' visit. M' Meian got us a room in th' Wench afore 't started fillin' up - wi' hae t' work t' keep 't, but, s' right nice. Sh' kin cook like y' hae nae tasted - wi' get her to, fer ye." The notion gets a low laugh, "Wi' sort out th' how, later." His grin is irrepressable, despite a slight change in subject - "I hae lived in th' Shadow before - aye, Northreach 't least 's better, 's long 's 't lasts. Donnae figure 't will, but wi' be good fer a while. Maybe wi' all be o'er afore anythin' goes too wrong."

"I've tasted Meian's cooking once before," Rowena notes, choosingly to refrain from further shadow commentary. "Night's Edge. I'll agree to your opinion of it. Light knows I was not born with such a gift as she." Grinning sheepishly to that, she shakes her head. "But I look forward to it all the same."

"y' got others." Kael, interestingly enough, still hasn't let go of her hand - apparently, simply having not thought to do so. He even squeezes it once again, seeming to relish the simple contact; not lecherous, just.. content. "E'eryone hae sommat they kin do. Sh' is amazin, though, I admit."

His smile widens a touch, and he winks to her, one boot scraping a bit on the floor - "Y' saved m' Meian, th' say - y' got hands what heal. 't means more 'n most, but y' ken that anyroad. 'tween ye an' Taran, I envy quite a bit."

"Every gift comes with a burden, Kael," Rowena murmurs, looking to his hand on hers. Who'd have thought. "I, too, am glad of her recovery, but I cannot take credit for it alone. There were many souls who helped. Mine is but the least amongst them." This time, at any rate.

"Maybe. But 's important t' me. Who 's t' say what /is/ o' is nae great o' lesser? Y' care - 't means more 'n anythin' I kin figure." The young mage runs his free hand through his hair, laughing then, soft and warm. "Shades, /I/ owe ye 's much 's m' mate does." In that motion, looking down as he does, the last remnants of the white edges of a burn can be seen at the side of his neck, going down under the shirt. They're nearly healed now, admittedly, scaled over and not nearly as livid as they once were - he moves without a wince. It doesn't seem to be bothering him, right now, at least.

Rowena eyes the old wound, but does so silently. A gentle tug is given of her still-captured hand and she looks to Kael with endearment. "You've tended these precious lives that dance between the pages of this chamber well with heart, Master Firelight. Any debt is repaid."

Kael shakes his head, then. "Wi' ne'er be. S' th' way o' things." He shifts just slightly, looking up at the books - "Y' did nae hae me in here jus' for th' cleanin'. M' a simple man, but nae a slow one." His smile grows a bit wry. "Y' saved m' life when y' coul' hae taken 't. Y' gave me sommat wi' meanin' t' do. Y' care 'bout sommat like /me/... I coul' go m' whole life servin' ye, an' woul' nae repay any o' that. An' then y' go an' y' help make m' mate whole? Y' help Celeste - 'n that .. th' edge is' th' first home I hae had 'n.. five? Six? Sommat like that .. years. An' ... nae once hae y' e'er asked fer anythin'. Nae once. I /look/ fer things I kin do fer ye - I jus' ... I wish I hae more t' offer 'n I do. M' nae much."

"The day may come when I am in need of a dire favor, but..." Rowena looks around with a helpless shrug. "Unless you can wrangle the Prince of the Blood into one sack, a priest into another, and throw us into a very small room, I cannot think of anything else I would want more." Chin bobbing with her honesty, she cracks another small smile. "For now, at least."

Oh, Light, he takes that /seriously?/ "well, I /might/ could. Th' priest woul' be th' easy part." Kael grins. "n' ... Serath I might coul' sort. But w' only got seven days, 'f 's what yer after. Six. Wi' nae be able t' sneak out o' Light's Reach t'night." The young man turns that over in his head, the gears turn visibly. ".... aye. I jus' might. Y' got a dress 'n all th' rest o' it?"

Rowena laughs, loudly at that. "Oh, Master Firelight...this is the meaning of a noble heart! If perhaps a bit gullible. Nay, I've no dress. I cannot make plans for such things until he gives his final word as to a time. Now indeed I would thoroughly enjoy the sight him him packaged up in the Chapel, if even for a simple laugh, but please mind your step. Wildcats have very tricky claws."

"M' a wolf, yer grace. w' hunt 'n packs." Kael considers gravely - "Hmmm. Four days? S' 's close 's I dare - wi' make nae any promises, but might b' able to. Kin I get a bit o' help?"

"Sure!" Rowena chuckles, clearly not believing the man's true intentions to follow through. "A pack would be safest, afterall."

"... a'right." Kael nods. "Then I need one thing from ye, t'night - y' need t' tell me who hae t' be there. Y' kin count 'n Vhramis - wi' need 'm. Celeste, too - sh' is yer priest." He pauses, then nods - "might need Sahna's help, in th' bargain. By'ond that, well, Y' want Varal 'n Alin there, aye? Tiris?" there's not a moment of hesitation in using /any/ of those names. "Wi' /nae/ have Aulus there. Wi' nae do 't."

At last, Rowena's smile falters a bit with uncertainty. "Well, I...I'd intentions of sending invites to the Lomasa's, Duke Oren Nillu, Alin, Varal, Celeste...all my kin. Any Kahars who would wish attendance, Duhnen...quite a few. Things done on a grander scale take more time, you see. I intended to wear my mother's gown, however when this town's predecessor burned to the ground, it took said plans with it. Royal marriages are far more complex than they need be, you see."

Kael hmmms. "S' this one needs t' nae be so. right - wi' nae be able t' do /all/ o' that. Who d' y' /hae/ t' have? Jus' ye, 'n him, 'n th' priest?"

"Well, I-erm..." Fingering her lip for a moment, Rowena takes up a devious look in her eye. "I imagine Serath would be heartbroken if Vhramis was not in attendance, at the least. And who knows, a Wolfsbane may very well be of valuable aid to a wolf." Shaking her head, she waves a hand at him. "But in all seriousness, it would never really 'count' in the eyes of kinsmen. We'd have to redo the entire affair on a more public scale later on anyway. Still, the idea most humors me and I believe I will have a hearty laugh on it for the remainder of the night. Thank you, Kael."

"Donnae care - in th' eyes o' /ye/ two, wi' count." Kael grins impishly. "an' wi' register 't 'n all. Y ' kin hae yer big noble party later." The young man squeezes her hand... and finally, reluctantly, lets go of it. "Fer ye, yer Grace, wi' catch a prince. Anythin' 't all." He chuckles, then laughs, warmly - "I jus' hope yer ready - I were nae. But.. woul' nae give 't up fer anythin' now."

"I've been waiting for longer than most brides have been of age, Master Firelight. At my age, there is no time for second thoughts." Rowena smirks, then turns on heel to go. A few steps away though and she turns back to look over her shoulder, brows furrowed. "Kael...really it will be a fun joke to try but please if he does seem distressed by it...well...tread lightly." Patting the allegedly guilty ring, she sighs. "And had you not rolled off my finger, I'd not be standing here having this conversation nor contemplating my upcoming demise."

"Hmmph. He gets angry? Cannae /imagine/ how fast I kin run." Kael grins - "But one look 't ye, an' sommat tells me wi' be almos' impossible fer him t' stay so. An'.. once yer wed? Donnae seem quite so grim. Y' live through 't, o' at least, mos' folks do." The young man stands carefully - "Light guard 'n guide ye, yer Grace."

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