The Mage Lord (closed for Sombrablanca)

Ria sat in the jolting carriage, her emotions all over the place as she left the familiarity of the land in which she had grown up. She was now well beyond their borders and the security and safety they offered, not that she wasn’t safe now, she had an escort of her fathers soldiers and those of the Mage Lord, but she wasn’t used to travelling, especially to a place with which she was unfamiliar. Or to a man she’d only met only on a handful of occasions and some of them had been from a distance. The man was not only the Mage Lord, one of the most powerful magicians around, but was now her husband and she was travelling to his home as his wife, something she was still finding it hard to believe.

Three days ago had been her wedding day, not that the groom had appeared, well not in person. It was well known that the High Lord rarely left his castle except for when his attendance was required at affairs of state, though Ria had expected him to be there at their joining and felt sorely let down. He showed up, but only a simulacrum, a shadow of himself, covered head to toe in a dark blue shimmering robe, like stars in the night sky. When Ria tried to look closer using the little mage sight available to her, she could see arcane symbols and words pulsating and sliding as if hiding from prying eyes and if Ria looked too long a feeling of queasyness came over her, so she had no other choice but to stop. During the ceremony, she felt a tendril of magic encompass her finger, circling it and becoming stronger and warmer and where the magic was concentrated and when it stopped there was a gold wedding ring on her finger, one that would forever proclaim her as the wife of the Mage Lord. Later when she tried, she found that the ring could not be removed.

Ria remembered the first time she’d seen the High Lord several years ago, he’d worn a robe made of the finest material, with fine stitching and a few jewels on it and a large hood that hid his features and each time she’d seen him afterwards he wore a similar robe, so Ria was none the wiser had to what her husband looked like, whether he was handsome or ugly and neither were any others who she questioned regarding his appearance.

Ria’s father was a Lord of an estate to the west of the High Lords castle and helped guard the border there. Her father had said that the High Lord had asked particularly for her hand in marriage, though what interest the High Lord could possibly have in her, Ria had no idea. She knew her father’s land was important as it was all that stood between the Kingdom and raiders from the sea, but she doubted that the High Lord was the kind of man who would worry about keeping her father sweet. All these things she pondered as she had little else to do on her journey, especially as she was the only occupant of the carriage. Ria wished she had her maid with her to keep her company, but Cassa had stayed behind as she was soon to be betrothed and did not want to leave her beloved. Ria could have insisted on her attendance, but had allowed Cassa to leave her service hoping that she would be able to find a hand maid amongst the High Lords servants as there were times when one was invaluable, especially for formal occasions.

On the journey she tried to meditate, to connect herself to the earths energies, but the carriage made it impossible and so she gave up, staring out the window to watch the cultivated land change to more barren and rocky terrain.

Ria had been identified early as having a mage gift, probably received from her mother, but as her mother had died giving birth to her, Ria knew she would probably never know, especially as her father would never speak of her mother. And so Ria was trained by her cousin who was highly thought of at court, unfortunately he was not a believer in women practicing magic in any form and deemed her beneath his notice after a handful of lessons, but she managed to gleam the basics off of him and found lessons where she could, enough to lend healers her energy and a few simple magic’s such as a ball of light

As the hours passed, Ria found she hated travel in the carriage more and more especially as she had asked her Father that she be allowed to travel on horseback as the roads were particularly rough at this time of year, the rain having turned them into rivers of mud causing ruts and making travel particularly difficult. But her Father had vetoed the idea telling her that a bride should arrive in style and in a carriage and not like a common hoyden. And so she endured the carriage and the way it had a habit of suddenly throwing her from her seat at the most inopportune moments, which was why she was glad when one of the men told her that they were nearing their journey’s end.

Once again Ria rallied inwardly against her Father’s restrictions and wishing she could put her head out of the window and try and see her destination, but the carriage had thick panelling and brocade curtains covering much of the view, so she had no distraction from the knowledge her destination was near and what it meant for her future. To calm her nerves she concentrated on pulling all the nervous energy inside her and using it cast a dim light inside the carriage so that she could see more clearly to make herself more presentable. She used her brush to get out the knots in her long straight brunette hair and adjust her bodice. She used a canteen of water to wash her hands and face of the travel grime. Ria knew she wasn’t perfect, but after two days of travelling she was as ready as she was going to be to meet the High Lord.

Eventually the carriage came to a halt and the door opened and a squire in the High Lord’s colours assisted her exit from the carriage. It took her eyes a moment to adjust from the dimness of the carriage to the brightness of day light.

The Mage Lord is cursed. When a small child his Father pissed off a rather powerful witch with strong ties to sex and life magic. It was no intentional harm but one of her sons was struck down by him. In her fury she decided to visit a fate upon him worse than what she suffered. Until the day he died the son of the first Lord of Glenroc would be deformed, misshapen in the eyes of his kind nearly to the point of unrecognition. Fortunately his wife had a few gifts in the arts, including a very strong ability to see the warp and weaves of magic, though she can not do much with the energies she sees, or counter them. At her insistence scryings were done, countless attempts were made, but until the boy grew more nothing could really be attempted on such a fragile life with so much magic already bound to him.

The magic was such a warping of nature it took the life of the witch. His Father used all the influence gained with the King in the war that had lasted a dozen years but even the King's strongest mages could do nothing even when he was old enough, strong enough. There were two glimmers of hope. The boy had the one strongest latent mage potential seen in a thousand generations of recorded history. This protected him from some of her spell while making it so that the others could not do anything until it was too late for fear of disrupting what his own body was doing itself, like a body's white blood cells attacking a replacement organ.

The other was a prophecy made by a consulted Oracle that if he survived to the age of 22, all could be well, the curse could be lifted, but he must remain celibate until finding that which would release the curse and no hint must be given of his potential til it manifested itself. He must be raised not knowing any of it til it was time.

So the boy grew. He was always excited, friendly, intelligent, but especially as a young child he was picked on by others who'd come by. Many times they would be sent off by a swat from the Cook, or Butler, but many times he'd be alone, exploring, experimenting. . At about age eight he was in a field near his father's castle where a roving mercenary tribe had taken up for a respite and to trade at the bazaar the next day. Some of the children of the tribe started to pick on him, throw rocks, attack, and call him monster, ugly.

At first he tried to run, but was tripped. As he took more and more hits his body's natural defenses welled up, his formerly untapped potential bursting forth in a close shield of flame so hot it burned bluish white, taking off the feet to the ankle of those kicking him, instantly cauterizing the wounds. He ran then, his steps setting small blazes as he ran. Fortunately it had been a very rainy spring so the small bits of flame did not spread far. Lacking any training the boy's shield guttered out before he even got home, but it was enough.

The next day the children's parents came to the castle to complain. They were told monsters were kept clear of this domain, that their children had made claims of being attacked, then burned. The bald young man with the misshapen head, with eyes a little too far apart, and not quite level came down in his court day best to learn at his father's side. On seeing him the children scream, saying "That's the one! That's the one!"

He can not believe it, but the Father must take all accusations seriously. Until this time the boy has shown a few things, but nothing of a Magish nature. He calls him over, telling him to speak clearly, concisely, and as he always has tell the truth. The other children deny it but one of the King's traveling magistrates is present who has the gift of telling truth from lie, stating that he was indeed victim, not aggressor. The warriors scowl at their children, the looks promising severe punishment for any and all found to be part of the attack before bowing and leaving. Tom, for that is the Mage Lord's nickname, a shortened version of the True Name only he and his parents know begins the rest of his life that day, immediately beginning his training in the arcane arts.

Fourteen years later the boy is now a man full grown, forever shrouded in his Mage's robes and cowl, his magic making it so even those few who see under the cowl glimpse only the same starry shimmering expanse as appears on his robes. He and all his staff wait at the entrance to his lands. To him this is very important. His Baritone voice rings out strong, melodious in the sighing of the trees, the canyon walls that surround his own Demesne, closest here at the entrance amplifying his voice naturally. It is a voice not often heard.

"Welcome to Glenoak My Lady wife. I welcome you. My land welcomes you. My people welcome you. You shall never want here, for what is mine I gladly share with you." He is speaking before her head clears the carriage, before her step reaches the ground that is tied to him now by blood, by magic, by the love he holds for the land and people his hard worked earned him. They are more than a courtesy, or formal greeting. The words are reinforce by magic, attuned to the spell forged ring of his own making upon her finger.

As Ria exit’s the carriage she hears the Mage Lord, his voice not unpleasant, surprised at his welcome.

Ria receives a shock as her foot touches the ground, an under current of the Mage Lords magic can be felt. Most people wouldn’t have noticed it, even those sensitive to it would be hard pushed to find it, but she was wearing the ring, forged by him in magic and attuning her to his magical touch, or that is what she assumed, after all, there were stories of two mages burning due to conflicting powers, though she had assumed they were fairy tales told by those who wanted magic stamped out. The land magic beneath her feet felt like a soft humming, the sort that is just out of hearing but you can feel it there. She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised by it, after all he would have used his magic to help crops and even the place where he lives would have his touch. Ria wondered whether even the walls themselves would be infused with his magic, strengthening and amplifying the natural magic within him. Later, when she had time and privacy, she promised herself that she would use her magic sight to see how much his gift had spread and how strong it lay within his domain.

Ria moved towards him, disappointed that even now he still wore his robes that hid his features. Many stories permeated the land about the Mage Lord, some say he was cursed and ugly beyond measure, others that he was half mythical creature, or demon from stranded here away from his realm.

Once she reached where the Mage Lord was standing, Ria curtsied, fanning out the light green dress that matched her eyes, a low sweeping curtsy showing respect, her long straight brunette hair falling over her face and hiding her pale smooth skin face. She held it for several seconds before standing and facing him.

“I thank you for your welcome, I am sure that I will be very happy here” or at least that is what she hoped.

She stood there wondering what he had planned as her eyes took in the large canyon marveling at it's beauty.

He can sense her unease, see the brown and green threads of her magic twining seamlessly with the starry blue threads that are the natural flow of magic in the Leyline only he knows is here flowing through the land, life force, enriching it, and encircles her finger.

So long as he fuels the land with his love, and care it gives him almost limitless power, but that power is carefully and finely poised on a precipice when tapping into it. One false move and he shall be swallowed by it, his energies consumed. The link he forged when his most primal essence reached out to her...surrounded her finger allows her to tap the land a little, awakening her affinity for the land subtly, slowly, but steadily and happily.

He is immensely pleased to see his domain, the living spirit of it accepts and draws on her while strengthening her, experiencing her tentatively at first then more boldly. In moments it treats her as if she is of it, every footfall, gasped breath linking more tendrils to her here at the protective shell of the canyons physical and magical defenses. She truly is welcomed by the land.

He feels it. Her new subjects feel it though they don't know what it is. They just cluster, saying how "pretty, kind," "how long it must have been." She "Should've taken a Horse dear a horse!" Much better." "The Lord is no pompous horse's arse. Speed. Comfort. Efficiency and dedication is our lord." "You have no Maid!? That will change you will have one dedicating to taking you around." "You'll want to meet Cook of course!" "Butler and Head House Keeper too. too. The Mage Lord is great about keeping the defenses of the land but he is lax as sin with the dusting of the housemaids!" "Tis scandalous! He dances with them! Dances with maid in the hallways... With Maids.... but never removes his cowl."

None remain from his childhood. All but he and his Father have forgotten the curse, and the prophecy. All others just the reclusive, silent, most powerful mage in the kingdom... Supposedly the world. He uses it intuitively. He has had recurring dreams of her jumping streams upon a favored steed... Getting dressed for bed, bathing, laughing... but had no means by which to have her when at a court function, he saw her. His Dream Maiden.`He fell instantly though he'd scoff but if anyone had seen his eyes they'd know it was not so. Especially a woman. Unfortunately behind his steel clad armor... No one sees his eyes... Though their stunning color is the one thing he likes about himself. They have changed over the years.

He holds his arm out over the forested area, the spires gleaming in the distance. "All this is home. Long as you're loyal to us we shall be loyal to you." He bows low to her, casting an eye over the carriage. "Your Father's idea no? Pompous old man. Does his duty to a T but you'd have been here a week ago on horseback. Speaking of which... " He nods to a groom, a pure white, very spirited mare brought forth, his crest, colors, on tack. She's got speed, some stamina, and a beautiful gait. "Part of your marriage gift. " As they mount he states unfortunately I was wounded the day of our ceremony. Giant trouble again. I barely had the strength to send my simulacrum."

Long as you're loyal to us we shall be loyal to you." He bows low to her, casting an eye over the carriage. http://www.filii.info/g.gif

Ria watches him as he hold out his arms, the gesture encompassing the land.
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"All this is home. Long as you're loyal to us we shall be loyal to you."

Ria wonders at the phrasing, wondering, was it part threat or just showing her how much he held his land in high regard and then she realised he’d used the word ‘we’, as if the land was truly apart of him, his life force entwined the lands, one reliant on the other for sustenance and life. Now she really wanted to open her potential, to feel, to know, but now wasn’t the time, too many distractions to even peak at what she felt. Also she had not the skill to use her mage sight at the same time as remain enough in the real world enough to be able to hold a conversation. She could tell she was beginning to feel a connection to the place and yet she knew much of her training was sorely lacking and it wasn’t unknown for a mage to loose themselves in the lines, sometimes forever. If she got to know the land, would she get to know the Mage Lord she wondered.

Ria was surprised when the Mage Lord bows before her, for though she was now his wife she was far below him in stature. For the first time it entered her thoughts that maybe, possibly, the Mage Lord could have some feelings for her, though how they could have developed on such a short acquaintance she was unsure, for Ria had expected to be cowed by him, for him to hold her in no regard higher that a dog, but he had done nothing but showed her kindness with his words and bowing to her, her a mere Lord’s daughter.

Then the beautiful white steed is brought before her. She briefly notes the Mage Lord’s colours on it’s tack, but her eyes are drawn to the beast itself.

“Never have I seen such a magnificent steed, milord.” Ria’s eyes are shining in happiness as her hand strokes down the horse’s neck, her hand running through it’s mane.

“You are beautiful.” she whispers to the horse.

“Does the horse have a name?” but the question is lost as she mounts with the aid of a squire.

Ria is surprised that she wasn’t more tired after her arduous journey, unaware of the land having renewed some of her energy, though when her feet leave the ground she feels a sense of loss. A tendril of her magic reaches out back to the ground wanting to renew the connection, but she pulls it back and cursing herself in her head for her lack of control and bringing her focus back to the horse and the words of the Mage Lord.

“I thank you for sending your simulacrum, for I have heard of weddings where the groom is represented by nothing more than a gauntlet on a cushion.” If he had been hurt, then she was surprised he even had the power to send a simulacrum as even the most minor of hurts had been known to put a mage off his stride, so to speak.

“I hope you are mended now?” she asked concerned for him, unable to see his face to know whether he still suffered from a wound or magical affliction, “and did you manage to send the giants back beyond your borders?” which if he had, she knew was no easy task and she wondered if he often encountered giants or other creatures from the north.

“I thank you for sending your simulacrum, for I have heard of weddings where the groom is represented by nothing more than a gauntlet.”

Polite Request

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He grins like a school boy when he sees her reaction to the horse. As they ride down the dappled, paved lane he replies in order. "No she does not. I remembered at one tourney years ago you loved to ride. I saw her among our herd. From the little I've seen and heard of you..." He shrugs, his grin infusing his voice. "I thought she would be just right M'Lady. Also, there is no need to call me milord. No one here does much to the Butler's chagrin. All are very respectful. Well, you'll see. If you require it of them, the staff shall give it. On formal occasions they do, but I -hate- formal occasions. They are so boring. Now quiet little parties with the villagers is where it at. You should see the Beltane rituals."

He nods to the village in the distance about a mile off to the East as they finish passing through the forest. "There is a market there, and several vendors. Being in this canyon has yielded many benefits. One is a rich ruby and sapphire mine. From my scrying, we shall still be mining it several hundred years from now. Though the technology is rapidly evolving. Theres this one young man I'm promoting as fast I can" He realizes he's going off topic. "Sorry about that. I go off on tangents. The Giants are a problem my Father is having. He's the -other- Lord Glen. Hes roc, I'm Oak. He's a quite man and often forgotten at Court. He's too busy protecting the rest from invasion."

His face becomes a rictus of displeasure a moment at thoughts of the vultures of court, but his smiles returns again at how easily his bride is taking to the horse, to the land. He notes something odd as well. The energies flow towards her, connecting with her of its own volition. He idly wonders if his would were he to take down his shields. He never does that however, for anyone.

They turn a corner and the tall castle appears in the middle of a large lake on an island. Its slate grey stone is that of the quarry nearby and four stories tall with two towers standing five on opposite ends. It is obviously built for defense, but comfort as well. The window are small, but many, more so at the base. The place exudes a cheeriness, defended hominess. He wonders what she will make of it. He hopes she sees it how he does, but she could hate it.

“Please call me Ria.” she told him. The fact that he had been calling her Milady up until now showed that he had been well brought up and taught etiquette, something that surprised her considering the gossip and the talk that she had heard about him, bumptious being one of the kinder words. Ria was beginning to guess that the Mage Lord the out side world knew was different to the man in his own lands, but often that was the way of politics when you had to sometimes show the world what they needed to see rather than who you truly were, especially at court.

“I don’t mind you ‘going off at tangents’ especially when it is on subjects dear to your heart or thoughts.” she told him also having gathered from his words that he was good at scrying. She wondered but daren’t ask if that only applied to gems beneath the earth or if it applied to people. She was unsure of how she felt about the fact he would be able to see her anywhere.

Ria enjoyed the ride, hoping that she would be allowed to go riding on horse back whenever she desired. It would be a freedom her father frowned upon, but then often he was more concerned with his own worth and how others perceived him than on the enjoyment of his daughter.

“I hope one day I may be permitted to visit the vendors.” she smiled at Oak.

“You have a beautiful land and ……” but her words broke off as they turned a corner and she saw what was to be her new home. To her it looked more like a castle from one of the fairly tales she had read as a child to an actual place. “You have a beautiful home too.”

The water around the castle looked like a mirror, broken only by the occasional fish surfacing for air, causing ripples on it’s surface.

“Are the fish for ornamentation or do the cooks use them to help stock the kitchen?” she asked curious and wanting to learn about her new home. Ria had heard about fish that tear flesh from men, which add to defences and had shuddered at the thought the first time she’d heard about it.

As they got closer, Ria could see the windows and was glad that her new home would not be in darkness like castles of the western lords.

As Ria looked on her new home she smiled in pleasure. The only doubt in her mind being what the night would bring and would she be able to do her duty to her husband.

“Permitted? I would expect as much from the Chatelaine of the West, famed preparer of the Fest of Five Thousand over five days on as many of notice? A Lady‘s duty is to defend hearth and home when a Lord is at war. Like the raider attack of a year ago when your father was assisting my father on their shared border against the sea troll invasion attempt. I believe the King‘s final official tally was out of 500 longboats sent, less then fifty escaped. Two hundred destroyed, and two hundred fifty filled with the loot of several other raids captured.” He cocks his head, leaning a little towards her, his posture showing inquisitiveness and thought. The timbre of his voice shows his passion for the subject.

“You’ll be pleased to know every man and woman in my domain is equally willing and able. One third of all taxes taken in goes to arming and teaching. All men and women receive basic instruction of a few weapons. They find one they favor and keep practicing the rest of their lives. We too are a very hard nut to crack.” His feral grin is unseen, but he suddenly feels as if a lightning bolt should be forming in one hand, a tornado beginning to swirl into existence in the other.

“The walls of this canyon are solid. There are two exits to this canyon. The one you entered. One only I know about except for a scroll that will become readable upon my death that will appear and stay for two days should I pass.” He is flowing with the thought, knowing it is information she will need. He accords her the respect he knows she deserves. “The entrance is easily defended by or population against a very long siege. As long as I live no one is getting near without warning. In the center of the village there is a statue of a man with a horn. When it wails there is the specific resonances of a war party incoming, Also wards against mages. They need a strategist though. That is part of your duties as my Wife. The walls are thick and strong. They are sheathed in defensive magics. Unlike some fools I do not assume I am invincible. Beneath the magic is well crafted yard thick slate blocks, done the tried and true way. We cannot be sieged.. Would you agree this falls into a Lady’s duties?”

He laughs. “A slight tangent again, but it is relevant. You never need permission to go anywhere. Letting someone know is good in case of emergency, but I expect you to get to know the place if you decide to stay. The offer was serious, including the last cause. If in the next month we find we do not suit, you shall return, still untouched. I hope we celebrate my twenty second birthday, and your twenty first as well I believe on the same day? Many more after as well. While in town, see how things are. Make sure all are happy, healthy, productive. If a villager or castle is hurt, so long as they weren’t being stupid, the castle funds assist until they’re better. It was Berta’s idea. Every spoils our soldiers take, a percentage is put to what they’ve taken to calling the surance fund. I match it from my personal funds. Of course if one happens to make veteran in our corps they are set for life.”
“Back to the point. You are totally safe in the village. This home is made to defend itself even if I am absent. Enough to get help here. If all is lost, there is a way to escape as I said. So do as you did with your Father. I look forward to your counsel. I cannot do as much as I should.“

“The fish are entertainment, food, and defense. They are water dragons actually. Very intelligent, very territorial, and a delicacy. They’re called that for their shape. Also the fact they can spray water hard enough to knock a man in armor over form ten feet away. I believe them to be some giant manta, but they swarm and spawn in the lake. They’re delicious in a seafood pot too.” He waits for her reaction to the deluge, hoping it is well. Then he decides to add the most important thing. The only place I counsel you to avoid is the Long Gallery at night. The maids swear its haunted. What think you thus far... Ria?" The suggestion sounds playful, but the maids’ sudden blushes, tittering and giggling suggest it may be a true warning too While he awaits her response.

Ria loved the timbre of his voice, not coarse to her ears, especially when he spoke to her as an equal, which, though she would never totally be his equal, when he was away from home she would be expected to function as his voice, though no doubt he would be like her father and have an aide to assist her to whom she could expect counsel. She had acted similarly in her father's stead when he had been away with the Mage Lords father, though he had never fully trusted her as she had to give account of all that had been done in his absence.

With her Father, her duties had mainly consisted of the smooth running of day to day life within his walls, but she could see how such knowledge could easily be used to help defend the place. Once she had been here awhile, then she could work out how best to be the ‘strategist’ he would require and for that she would need to know the castle inside and out as well as the surrounding land. No doubt Oak already had plans in place which she would be able to utilise and adjust accordingly, but there was no point asking for them until she was acquainted with her environs.

All men and women receive basic instruction of a few weapons

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“My Father considered women best suited to hearth and home, to take care of the wounded and menfolk, not to take arms. When I was young, a Captain taught me dagger and sword, but due to my Father's view with regards women's work , it has been many years since I have felt the weight of a weapon in my hand, so I would need instruction and practice, though I fear you would find my skill with such weapons sadly lacking. But as you say, there are many other weapons and I am not adverse to trying them, for defending one's land is important., if not vital” Ria smiled at him, to show in this they were accord.

“I know a little magic, enough with your instruction to add to the magical defences, should the need arise, but I feel that you would be poorly disappointed in my ability or strength.” As she spoke Ria looked down, fearing that the Lord would be angry with her, or consider her beneath his contempt as he obviously expected much of her and though she was willing to try, she feared he would look at her abilities with contempt. Once again she silently cursed her cousin, for he too had shared her Father’s views and so his instruction had been mainly healing and aiding others and a brief lesson on shielding herself, one which had only come after a bad experience with a visiting mage who had used his skill to try to manipulate her.

As they approached the castle, Ria wanted to see the place with her magic inner eye, but that was something she knew would be best when she wasn’t tired from the long journey, or in the company of one who could no doubt do so in the blink of an eye, without the meditation she would need.

“I look forward to getting to know your land and the people within and I will gladly go about seeing that is all is well with the people. and assisting where possible.” Ria had never understood nobles who looked down on the people who brought wealth and paid tithe, allowing the nobles to live in a state of luxury.

If in the next month we find we do not suit, you shall return, still untouched.

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The words surprised her. Her Father had told her that she would be expected to do her duty and to be aware of the honour that the Mage Lord had bestowed upon her, claiming her as his wife. She knew the Mage Lord meant well, but Ria knew that if they ‘do not suit’ then her Father would send her to a temple, rather than have a daughter who dishonoured him and he would claim she had found God or some other such nonsense. But still, Ria was glad that she would be allowed to get to know Oak before he would take her to bed.

For so long he had been ‘The Mage Lord’ in her thoughts, to call him by name still felt odd, but she knew she would become used to it.

Ria listened to him talk of the water dragons. She had never seen one before, though had heard of them and their capabilities. She also listened to him talk of the Long gallery.

“I will keep that in mind and avoid the Long Gallery.” she told him.

“I think you have a beautiful land.” she said in response to his question. “And I hope you will find me an agreeable wife.” Ria knew that wasn’t quite what he was asking, if truth be told she was finding it all a little overwhelming and much to take in, but she did trully hope that they would get on as she was feeling a connection here. How or why? she didn’t understand, maybe it was because she was free of her Father’s restrictions as Oak had yet to censure her, she mused.

"Mmm. As I have said many times. Your father is a good man, but stubborn. He was raised that way though I suppose. It was that era. My own opinion is that everyone has their own attributes that make them better at certain skill sets. Many women are more suited to hearth and home, but look at the Queen. She is war chief in her homeland. She is one of Thor's most devoted worshippers.The norse shield maidens fight just as hard as their men folk. They use speed, agility, and cunning instead of brute strength. " Tomas is pleased to hear her responses. His hope rises by the minute. Perhaps he has finally found the woman to complete him. He rides across the moat, stopping half way so that as the first manta surface, it is the familiar scent and sound that greets them. He speaks in an ancient tongue. The large creature seems to listen, maybe even reply.

The creature sinks beneath the waves after volleying a small stream of water towards Ria. Tomas grins. "He likes you. You shall have no trouble now. He is the alpha of his pod. We have an understanding. They're very territorial, as I said. As with much in this demesne, we are symbiotic. His kind has rudimentary intelligence. Fights determine hierarchy. Hence the entertainment. A sea Dragon fight is intriguing. Especially when its against a human. As my female you are protected. Like the rest who bear my magic, my essence. That's how they determine pod, friend, and interloper." He shrugs, the shod hooves of the horses clipclopping over the drawbridge echoing in the short tunnel that leads to the courtyard.

"I'm sure you'll do fine. You will have plenty of time to find where your strengths and weaknesses lie. If the greatest painter in the world is never allowed to put brush to paper, how would they ever know? The views of your family are well known to the court. They are part of the reason your brother will never ascend to a seat on the counsel as he so blatantly angles for at court. You on the other hand show great promise. I truly hope you will be happy here. I admit the place could use a woman's touch." He chuckles, self deprecation in his voice. "Myself as well probably. I'm sure the first thing you'll hear from the Butler and Housekeeper is my lack of properness. They helped me carve a home out of this wilderness though they were appalled when first I said I planned to build here, deep in the royal forests. If you need anything, information, directions, food, an escort, they can assist you. As will I of course. The only time I shall be completely unavailable is from late evening to early morning for the next while."

He stops at the front of the keep, dismounts, and offers his hand up to his new wife before walking with her to the massive Oak doors. They are carved intricately, sea dragons, humans, elves, fairies, trees, and many other things artfully incorporated into the grain of the wood. The slate around the doors is the same bluish grey, smooth to the touch. One can not gain purchase against it. All the people have followed, and wait at the bottom of the steps. Glenoak looks over them, happy to see no one missing. "My friend! This day Glenoak finally has a Lady! Our hearth finally has a mistress. Let us celebrate with all due voraciousness. The feast awaits, along with a few days of festivity. From this day forth, this, the twentieth day of spring shall be a day of celebration, the gods and goddesses willing. Maybe even if they aren't willing." The gathered crowd roars at this. The Mage Lord lifts his arm. The doors open directly to the Great Hall, where any can come to air grievances, share a meal with their Lord and peers. It is well lit, cozy. The delicious scent of the hearth fire, stew always bubbling, added to daily, even hourly by the cooks. As long as one was willing to work, one could eat as much from it as desired. Today though the trench tables are laden to the point of sagging. Venison, Beef, and boar have been roasted. Each is well seasoned, medium rare, and gently steaming. Wheels of cheese ming with pitchers of wine, ale, and cider. The tables are set as the four sides of a rectangle. Facing the doors is the High Lord's seat.

It is well known he prefers his back to the wall. The rest of the keep lies behind him. If any are to attack, the weakest point is the doors. It also allows for more equality. The room fits the four hunddred or so people not on duty, or serving who will rotate later to join in with room for a hundred or so more. He leans in close to her, push by a throng of children that gape at the candied nuts, honey baked apples, cakes, pies, and other sweets arrayed on a table. The center piece is a very lifelike cake of Ria and Tomas atop a Sea Dragon, it cresting the waves of Glen Lake. It is the pride and joy of the castle Cook, Guillermo, who started out in the bakery business before his past caught up with him.

Guillermo is sweating bullets, hoping the new Lady likes the spread he has laid. 5 kinds of cheese, one from each corner of the kingdom and one native to Glenoak, a nut studded, sharp cheddar are placed as he ordered. So are the elderberry, ice, red, and white wine carafes. There are already several beer kegs tapped, as well as the 200 year old caskin of Elven Absincia the Lord has been saving for a special occasion. The proud leathery old man looks to his Lord's side even as the first scents of the meat pies, biscuits, salads, stews, and other foods cross her nose. The sun darkened face grins. He's been with the Mage Lord so long he can read him even under his protective covering. The Lord is happy. He's overjoyed and hopeful. Guillermo smiles, having a feeling all will be well. He made sure to find a few recipes of her home to add to the menu as well. If she doesn't like his food she could demand a new cook. As Lady of the house it'd be her right too. The home is traditionally the domain of women. Life would just be easier if she's happy. She looks happy, radiant even in the glow of the huge hearth along the side of the room, the glow of the blue and green orbs that light the room cheerfully. Every now and then one explodes harmlessly, light showering out in different patterns then resolidifying.

Tomas escorts her to her seat at his left, a highbacked seat of young Oak, intricately carved, inlaid with the precious stones taken from the rock around. His matches it, neither more nor less ornate. They are the one distinguishing feature he allows. The rest in the room are not quite so ornate. His is a little worn. Hers appears as though it has never been sat upon, as indeed it has not. He pulls her chair back politely, as he says to her "The red stew is very spicy, but tasty. The hare is sweet and sour, and the venison is just delicious, then stands in front of his seat, yells "Let's eat!", then drops into his chair. He starts taking bits of this and that to place on the trencher he and Ria are to share. He reaches for the carafe of the Absincia, holding it near the goblet they are to share. "If there is anything you don't recognize, let me know. I don't care for the Lyma Beens myself. The lil green shiny things in the bowl there. But everything else is pretty good. Guillermo is a wizard. I get him any ingredient he asks for. When I'm home I will eat well by the gods!" He laughs again, nodding towards the drink. "Care for Absincia? It is two hundred years old, greatly distilled, made by Ashanra herself. Supposedly. It is said to have many interesting qualities. I've been saving it for an Occasion. Shall we indulge?"