by P. S. Power
Timon took a deep breath as soon as he was served and let his left foot float out under the table gently, nudging his... new friend?
"Take a sip when I do. Make sure to stand. On three..." He spoke the words so softly that he wasn't certain she'd hear him, but the moment the wine was poured they stood, as if the move was planned and took a sip. The two people across from them didn't hesitate either, following along bravely. He didn't know who they were, but instead of examining their drinks, they let their cups rise and drank the things dry. They were both middle aged people, a gray haired man and slightly younger looking woman that didn't seem to know what to do next. Timon had a clue there, turning and saluting with his glass slightly, toward Richard at the far end of the table.
He returned the gesture, sipping from his own beverage shortly after that, then bowed as everyone else stood one at a time, to take their own sip.
Nothing was said of it, but the four of them kept it up for the whole meal, eating as if the food was completely safe. It was, of course, since killing people at the Palace would be about as stupid a thing as anyone could do. Especially going after Heather, since she was, more or less, suddenly on their side now. If anything they should give her presents and cuddles, so that anyone else from the other side that saw what she was doing might just think it was a good idea for them as well.
After the dessert they were lead toward the far end of the table, where a receiving line had been set up. It was a little different, from what he'd noticed before, since there was a large table of gifts along side of the seated monarch and his wife. They weren't handing them out either, but being presented with them one, and sometimes two, at a time, for examination and discussion. Everyone had brought something too, of course. That was, it seemed, the tradition.
Except for Heather and himself, because naturally, they were invited at the last minute.
Normally that wouldn't have been a big issue for Timon personally. He really didn't care a lot about what other people thought of him, and most of the people present had some kind of idea what had been going on that day. Connie however kept looking at them, her face alternating between pristinely calm and rather lovely, to slightly mischievous and a bit catty.
In other words she knew exactly what she was doing and meant to shame them personally. It was kind of bitchy of her really, and poor strategy. The worst part of it all was that for a gift to count it had to be made by the giver, which took time and effort. The more you put into it, the more it would mean when given. To not give a gift was a bit of an insult really, if you knew a person well. To give something made by another person was about the same as slapping someone, if they were supposed to be a friend. It was better to give a cruddy little nothing of a gift than to do that.
So, no matter what they did, the Queen would have an excuse to act hurt and pretend they were offending her personally. It was brilliant really, since there was almost no way out of it. Especially for him, now that he knew she was his Aunt. Because this was a special event, one that most planned for, months in advance, they couldn't even claim that they'd prepared for something else, at a later date.
Really, Tim wanted to growl, instead of waiting as doom slowly approached, one tiny step at a time. The situation wasn't lost on Heather either, who seemed nearly ready to proclaim war again. It was a bit over the top, given how much she really needed his brother's healing amulets, so she didn't say anything at all, just looking angry and a bit red faced.
Timon searched for something that would work, but nothing was at hand really. Nothing he had on him would be a good, personal, gift. He couldn't even make something magically in time. Not something new that would be truly created for the King or his wife. Maybe if he were Tor it would be possible, but only if he had something to put it on. As it stood he didn't even have a clue what to make.
Something decorative? An idea came to mind, one that might even be simple enough to work, but he needed something to attach the field to, if he was going to risk bothering to try at all. In his pocket he found a single silver coin. It would have to do, because even at the slow pace they were all walking they'd be to the front in less than half an hour.
"Take my arm and guide me." The whispered words couldn't have made sense to his new pal, but she did it anyway, making her one of his new favorite people. She even looked slightly concerned. He blocked that out, just taking a single step each time she tugged lightly.
Thankfully it took longer than it had seemed it would, nearly an hour and a half. Everyone standing back to watch the festivities after their turn. That meant, if he failed, that everyone would know and mock him for it. Then he'd have to kill them all, and that wouldn't go over at all with their heirs. Well, some of them wouldn't mind overly, but in the main people's children actually seemed to love their parents.
When it was their turn to step up Queen Constance looked positively triumphant. George the head of the Royal Guard leaned in to whisper to her, which let her feign shock and a slightly hurt expression.
"Oh? I... see... Very well..." She sounded sad, but that was just designed to call attention to how wronged she was being, denied her traditional gift.
Richard, for his part, sat up straight, his eyes locked on the far wall, avoiding even the chance of locking eyes with him. It was a good plan, considering he had to be pretty embarrassed. Timon was. Which took him a little by surprise. After all, Connie was a family member now, so her acting like that reflected poorly on him too.
He cleared his throat gently to get her attention, Richard finally glanced at him too, his face looking slightly pained.
"Don't worry Aunt Constance, we didn't forget you, this just didn't get picked up earlier. All my fault, I'm sure. We were a bit busy and I forgot." He held it up between two fingers and felt the field on it. There was enough strength at least, but it was actually a novel build, if an incredibly simple one. It might not work at all. "Magical coin. Perhaps George would activate it for you?"
You didn't just hand new magics to the King or Queen after all. Especially ones that you'd made yourself. The older man, who could probably kill Timon without even moving fast, took the silver deftly and tapped it, even if it lacked a proper sigil.
The instant he did, it began to glow a nice silver color, which expanded slowly until it was about the size of a pie plate, floating in the air and spinning about twice per minute, then it turned to green, and showed the same emblem he had on his chest.
"Something to remember me by, when I'm not here." He spoke the words gently. It wasn't a perfect likeness, distorted on the left just a little, but it really wasn't bad, as far as art went. The bird looked like a bird, and while it didn't move, or play a tune, it still sent a message.
Don't mess with Timon.
The Queen stiffened, her eyes going a little wide after a moment. After all, magic took time to make and wasn't something that you made fresh and new like he just had. Tor could do it, but even the Lairdgren Group members would have been hard pressed to make it happen while standing in line. She had to know that the emblem was new too, which meant that Timon, half baked builder that he was, had done something that very few beings on the planet would be able to manage at all. Just to thwart her.
Now if it would just last through the evening, he'd look halfway decent.
The King stared at him frankly and gave a seated bow. It was what he did for all the other gifts as well after all, so not out of character or anything.
"Very nice! I see that you both wear the same symbol as well, and after you both honored us through the meal as you did, showing your total trust..." His eyes actually started to water a bit, even as he smiled at them broadly. "I think that everyone here is as touched by this as I am, Timon, Heather. Thank you both. This is lovely."
Timon didn't always think very highly of his Aunt, but she was very well trained for her job and didn't miss a beat, after the King spoke.
"It truly is! A thing worthy of your brother even. Thank you, Timon." It was a dig, of course, sinc
e she had to have some idea that he hated being compared to Tor like that. Still, magic was his brother's area, so if he wanted to dance there, it invited Tor's name into the conversation.
"Nothing that grand, I'm afraid, but I hope you find joy in it." He bowed, which got Countess Montblanc to do the same, matching him perfectly in angle. It was the kind of bow that married people used, to show they were united in a given situation. No one laughed however, even if it was kind of humorous.
They were led out of the way by Kara, who smirked at him a little as soon as Connie couldn't see. She led them without making contact, shifting them over to where Tor stood, Trice and Ali standing next to him, one on either side. Trice just nodded, her face looking very proper suddenly.
"That wasn't bad Tim. Managed to get out from under the net in time and everything. Now, don't think that you've totally gotten out of this. Constance will find a way to take her revenge on you. Probably by applying social combat rules, since she's a master of the subject, and you can't even throw a party of your own. I wonder how that will go? Well, keep me apprised, it will no doubt be interesting if nothing else." Moving in there was another kiss on the cheek, which was a bit too close for him. Tor at least looked baffled by the move, even Ali just smiled, as if it were only normal.
It meant something, but what that was seemed odd. They weren't close, Trice and himself...
Which was doubtless what she was trying to imply to everyone, for some reason. That they actually were, if not together really, at least friends. There were probably a thousand reasons why that might be the case, so he didn't pull away. A kiss on the cheek wasn't even outside of what was socially proper really, and as his brother's girlfriend something like that would be expected, most likely.
Alyssa moved in then and put her right hand on his upper arm. It was a little bit flirtatious, but not too bad. She actually tried pretty hard not to do that with him, and had ever since they'd chatted about how doing anything with any of Tor's family members would hurt him. After all, she was broken and battered internally from whatever it was that her evil father had done to her, but she was a good and kind person for all that. Cute too. Enough so that, if he weren't so broken himself, Timon probably would have enjoyed the attention from her a lot more than he did.
"Are you coming to our house for Noram Day, Tim? Heather is invited as well, naturally." She spoke the words as if they were all old friends, even, as far as he knew, Ali and Heather had only met a few hours before.
The woman bowed to his sister in-law anyway.
"Thank you, that's most kind. I should see to my people. The scourge that has fallen on them is most severe. I need to procure some healing devices. Given everything I don't know where the coin for that will come from, but it needs to be my top priority. I hope that my absence won't offend you? If it were any other time, I'd be there without pause." She seemed anxious suddenly, which got Ali to touch her arm, trying to comfort her.
"Oh! We understand. Tor, can't you see about some healing amulets? I know that there were a lot made..." It was a bit leading, but his brother nodded, then looked at him.
"Timon has some. I don't know where. I didn't ask." The shrug that came wasn't strictly his brother's, belonging instead to The Cordes. The Ancient King that had taken up residence inside his brother's mind. He wasn't supposed to just take over like that, in the main.
Timon didn't call him on it, since the whole thing with someone living in his head other than himself served to make Tor seem like a loon at the best of times.
Instead he smiled politely.
"We need to get with Petra on that, but we should have enough by morning, if I can find her. She's off visiting some friends for the holiday, but I'm sure she'll be willing to help, even given that."
After all, she was a good person, for all that she'd helped him run off with tens of thousands of healing amulets. Technically Timon knew where they were hidden, which was at her mother's place in County Ward, but he didn't want to mention that out loud, since everyone knew that the Wards had betrayed the Kingdom again. Except of course, they hadn't. They were playing spy.
Petra knew that too, of course and even though he hadn't mentioned it, from his facial expression at the girl's name, Tor did too. Ali didn't, and he couldn't tell with Trice, but that last one was pretty likely. What was the point of training up a new spy mistress for the Kingdom if she wasn't going to know what was going on? It didn't show externally at all however.
The last people to give a gift were the older couple that had shared the bad end of the table with them earlier. They presented a nice set of handmade rocking chairs. They were actually pretty nice, the lines matching closely enough that no one would think they weren't a perfect pair. There were differences, but Timon noticing them didn't mean they weren't well done. He noticed a lot of things that others missed.
The King said a few words to them, but it wasn't anything special. Whatever they'd done wrong, it clearly wasn't moving into full rebellion against the man, so he didn't feel the need to make a big deal out of the whole thing. Timon wondered what it was, but Trice, knowing almost everything, let her head rise a notch and simply explained softly.
"Count and Countess Lynd. They had a problem last year and their present didn't make it in time. I always suspected sabotage myself. They've been on Connie's list ever since. It's really about other things of course. No one cares that much about presents after all. Political leverage can be found everywhere, if you're willing to look hard enough. No one will call them disloyal this year. Those are some nice chairs." She grinned, but the underlying message wasn't about the gifts at all, but about what had happened at the meal. There was a reason the King spoke about that. It was considered almost foolishly trusting for a noble to eat without checking their food.
That was the point he'd been trying to make.
Timon really wanted to get things going that night, since it would take hours to arrange it all, if they were going to help people in the morning. Not that he really cared, but it was kind of the job that he'd been set, right? Though mainly that was about Kolb wanting him to not be available for his sister, which was strange. He got the basic idea, that the Weapons Master wanted his young protégée to make her own kills, as either a lesson or trophy, but if there was to be a war, didn't it make sense for her to have all the help she could get?
Maybe not, but if that was the case, he needed it explained to him. Some kind of honor thing maybe? He knew the rules for that, but if it was an emotion at all, he was lacking that one too. That and shame. He could fake it, and understood when he should be feeling that kind of thing, but he just didn't. It was biological. No guilt either. Fear existed, but he was coming to think that it was a weaker thing in him than others.
Shaking his head a little to clear it, he turned and slowly reached out, letting his hand rest on Trice's arm gently. It was funny, but Tor positively glared at him for a moment, even if he was only trying to get her attention.
"We should get together soon. Perhaps with Petra?" The words weren't loaded with anything except a normal, basically friendly, invitation, but everyone else smiled, as if he were hitting on the woman. That was silly, since if he was going to be doing that with anyone right now, it would be Heather. After all, she had the raw size that would be needed to challenge his trauma. If he did that however, Prince Alphonse would beat him up. He'd said so at least. Timon wasn't certain that he really meant it, or what the boundaries would be that caused that to happen, but he knew the man could do it. That he was a superior fighter was clear in every move he made. Tim thought he might be faster, so if it was going to happen, he was planning to flee for his life. Or at least his hide's sake.
The reaction from the girl was fantastically strange and overdone. So much so he had to fight to keep a happy expression on his face.
"I'd love too! Maybe we could all get together tomorrow evening? You're going to be in Montblanc? Is that alright with you Heather? I know that things are a bit tense, but having vis
itors now can only help smooth things over..." She touched the Countess on the arm too, which got her to swallow, almost as if it were a trick or something of that nature.
Like she was inviting in an army to attack?
"That would be fine. I don't have much staff left. My household was hit hard, before I could manage to find a single healing amulet for sale. It took a good portion of the annual budget for it. Worth it, I just wish I could have gotten it earlier. Still, if you don't mind me waiting on you personally, I'd appreciate the guests." She looked worried then, and glanced at Ali.
"Right. Expect guests. We'll each bring a dish and do it school style. Is that where you're going to be, Tim? Living with Heather?" She actually pushed her chest forward a bit, and tilted her hips a little, aroused by the idea. Or at least whatever she thought would be going on.
Timon let his head come up, almost like a tick.
"For a few weeks, if she'll have me. I set up a house near hers, I'll have Petra in to play chaperone, so that Heather's good name won't be smeared over it." It made a certain amount of sense to him, but there was a gentle chuckle from behind that sounded familiar.
Count Lairdgren.
"Won't that just taint Miss Ward's good name instead? I've actually heard a few whispers to that end already, that you two are bending some age of consent laws. No one is blaming either one of you however, so I think you'll survive it." The man glanced at Tor, measuring him with his eyes again, as if to see if he was growing visibly as they talked.
Sticking out his tongue, Tor sighed.
"They aren't doing anything like that at all. I can read it in his field. Perfectly chaste and proper." Looking around he hunched a bit and went wide eyed, it was a playful thing his brother did at times, to show he was joking. "We should keep that quiet, or we'll ruin Tim's reputation as a ladies' man."
That got sage looking nods all the way around, and got Trice to move her shoulder next to his and hold his hand gently.
