reticence | TIMESKIP POST

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TIMESKIP POST

FAOLAN

COURT Shardless; Seelie-sworn
TITLE Seelie Marshall's Hound
OCCUPATION Bodyguard, Assassin, Spy
ABLE TO FAST-TRAVEL

Teleportation between the gardens of Caer Glaem & Caer Scima

Teleportation in Dorchadas at night

Teleportation to Lancelot's side

Cleg
RESIDENCE IN 2,701 Caer Glaem
RESIDENCE IN 2,702 Caer Glaem

MAJOR EVENTS

HIGHLIGHT
Description [ ✖ ]

PLANS
- Keeping an eye on Lancelot both in Caer Glaem/the White Citadel and on his travels.
- His mission for Lancelot to connect with all of the agents stationed in the cities closest to Caer Glaem.
- Becoming Spymaster under the direction of the Seelie Marshall should said mission be fulfilled.
- Watching over Bridei when Lancelot is not around and making sure that he is safe.
- Possibly spreading more positive sentiments towards the Seelie court (or at least positive sentiments towards Lancelot) in the form of ballads.
- Upholding his oaths to the best of his ability.

SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS
TBA

TIMELINE OF EVENTS

SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May)

MARCH - Gwen is happy to see Faolan alive again. Faolan spends most of the month hiding from the cold under Lancelot's charmed blankets with Bridei, and feeling guilty he won't let him light a fire.
APRIL - Faolan starts to hear harp-playing everywhere, both in and out of his dreams, and his emotions go off of the charts. He resents harps, and he resents what they mean to him. He would never destroy an instrument in or out of his dreams however so he will be affected the whole month. There are significant interactions with Lancelot and Guinevere during this event.
MAY - Faolan accompanies Lancelot on the first of his many Public Relations trips, this time to Parrais.

SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug)

JUNE - As of the month before, the lockets and the fairy rings do not work, and as such, communication with agents stationed out in cities has become a challenge. Lancelot assigns Faolan the task of traveling to them and communicating in person, since it is easier for him to travel around than most others these days, being shardless. He starts out with Treun, where he participates in the Melee competition of the Tourney and is bested by Connor early in the running. Lancelot is there to soothe his bruised ego. Also at the Tourney he speaks to Aragorn, Lucrezia, and Natasha. He also meets with the agent in Treun before continuing on his mission south to Leathann, where there is no agent stationed, but he spends a while investigating in their stead.
JULY - From Leathann Faolan does a massive traveling loop back up to Parrais on his mission for Lancelot to meet with the agent stationed there. And from there he goes on to Doanna for the final stop in his journey, where he discovers that there is some unrest after the hangings that take place there. He speaks to Diarmuid and they exchange information, before he returns to Caer Glaem to share his findings with Lancelot. (All throughout the mission he has been checking in here and there, to let him know that he's alive, and because Bridei misses him.)
AUGUST -Faolan accompanies Lancelot to Leathann for more Public Relations on behalf of the Seelie court, and tries desperately not to be in the way during the Festival of Lights. While he's there, he takes some time to investigate this new Oracle (and possibly work on establishing a new agent in the city?).

FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov)

SEPTEMBER - Faolan returns with Lancelot to Parrais for more Public Relations touring.
OCTOBER - On the 25th of October, the Drabwurld celebrates Samhain once more. Faolan attends, and reminisces about last year with Lancelot. He spends less time brooding than he did last year, and even accepts a few dances, including one with Gwen.
NOVEMBER - Faolan spends much of the month on regular duties. When word of the escaped convicts from the prison colony in Leathann reaches Caer Glaem, it makes him uneasy - are any of these people a threat to Caer Glaem itself?

WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb)

DECEMBER - Having won the Hunt last year, Lancelot will apparently get it into his mind that he doesn't need to take it seriously this year, thereby ending up getting himself cursed into becoming an animal this go around. An otter, to be exact. Faolan must then watch over him, Lady, and Bridei the three of them for the next few days until Lancelot is himself once more. Any gifts he receives for Yule he struggles to return in kind, even if his own gifts by comparison are likely not as fancy or expensive as those that are given to him.
JANUARY - Faolan accompanies Lancelot back to Treun once more for more Public Relations touring on behalf of the Seelie court. He checks in with the agent stationed there, and puts out feelers as to what might be going on with the Fortuna family, after the Governor was forced to abdicate his position. (The 26th marks Faolan's return from death, an event that is possibly worth celebrating?)
FEBRUARY - Faolan travels with Lancelot back to Leathann again for another Public Relations visit on behalf of the Seelie court. (If he has established an agent in Leathann at this point he will check in with them.) Also during this month, on the 14th, Bridei turns one year old.

SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr)

MARCH - Faolan joins Lancelot and all others defending Caer Glaem by decapitating the skeletons of the risen dead, and is largely unsettled by their appearance.
APRIL - Fairies start to go missing from Caer Glaem, leaving everyday tasks unfinished. Faolan knows how to make do without them, although it is an inconvenience in certain aspects. This too is concerning, however, and he wonders what it could mean going forward...

( codes by whambam )

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Faolan keeps a hand on Bridei's back as he sits in his lap, steadying the little boy, unsure whether he'll be able to keep his balance in this form and not wanting him to go toppling off and over the edge of the bed. At Lancelot's suggestion, he takes in a breath, wrinkling his nose slightly. He has had a long day, and a long evening, and a long couple of months for that matter, out on the road, living rough, staying in taverns and hopping from place to place. The amenities on the road were nowhere near those he had grown accustomed to here at Caer Glaem, and he hopes that he doesn't smell - scratch that, he hopes he does not smell too poorly, for he knows that he does at least somewhat. A bath sounds like heaven, although Lancelot is offering his personal washroom - at this hour - and Faolan doesn't know quite how to respond to that.

"I... It would not go amiss," he comments, embarrassed. "But I would not want to trouble you. I can go down to the public washrooms, see if there's any hot water left down there..." Although truthfully, he does not know how Bridei would take that. Leaving so soon after just returning from an extended absence. It could set him off again, and perhaps even more inconvenient than leaving Lancelot to deal with a newly-turned-toddler would be to leave him to deal with an inconsolable newly-turned-toddler.

"It is no trouble at all, I assure you Faolan. After all, I will not be the one carrying the water -- and I think I can spare a tub I am not using."

Lancelot smiles reassuringly, gently stroking a thumb along Bridei's cheek as he gets use to the feel of dog fur against his skin. Something which largely involves varying degrees of hesitant and slightly too rough petting.

"Besides which, no doubt you have plenty of stories to share with us both. One moment --"

Then Lancelot is gently shifting Lady and pushing up to his feet again, slipping into the hallway to pass a message and gently propping the door open an inch or two to stop it sealing shut. He returns to Faolan's side, reaching out as Bridei leans towards him and waves his arms to carefully take the bundled child and settle him into his chest.

"Give them a little while to begin heating it," he murmurs, and offers Faolan a weak smile. "You were probably looking forward to sleeping. Forgive us for depriving you of it."

Faolan shakes his head, silently. He has left his bag near the door, where he'd dropped it when he'd been assaulted by animal excitement. There are gifts inside it - the candles he had picked up at Molly's shop, a couple toys for Bridei and Lady to share (simple things that he will enjoy just as much in this form as he would in the other, Faolan has little doubt), and a few samples of food that would both travel well and still be relatively exciting to someone who hasn't had much opportunity to venture forth from Caer Glaem. But that can wait for later. Perhaps tomorrow, even, along with introducing him to Conall. He has other things to preoccupy himself now, after all.

"There's nothing to forgive," he says, simply. "I brought all of this excitement with me. No doubt it would have been a quiet night if I had not returned. But I wished to. More than anything else. Truth be told, I had not thought about how the night would go, other than the idea that I should spend it back here at last." With you. The words nearly spill out unbidden and he does not have the child in his hands anymore to fidget with. He glances down, away from Lancelot for a moment, reaching a hand out to Lady instead, wondering if he has lost his appeal so soon now that she has Bridei to be interested in. "It has been a long several months," he says, finally, as if that explains himself.

Lady shuffles willingly toward Faolan, flops to rest her head in his alp and heaves a doggy sigh of resignation. So much for sleeping. Lancelot shifts his grip on Bridei and drops his face into the child's dark curls, cradles him affectionately as the exhaustion makes the child quiet again.

"It was not too much trouble, I hope? Finding them, getting the information you needed?"

Lancelot picked each agent to suit their city, to be good at their job, but he knows they are not all individually personable as such -- and that to blend in they must make themselves difficult to recognise.

Faolan's eyes follow Lancelot's movements, follow the way he cradles the child and the way that he presses his face into the crown of his curls. Follows the way that he tucks him against his side and the way that Bridei himself curls up against him, little hands curling in the fabric of his tunic. He drinks the moment in, the image of Bridei as he is still fresh and wonderous, the image of Lancelot one he has missed even more than he had thought he did, the pair of them together as they are... He could lose himself in this moment and this company, and he is not sure that he would mind that in the least.

His fingers trace idly along behind Lady's ears, between them, turning what affections he cannot afford onto her instead. "Nothing I could not handle," Faolan responds. "Each city had its challenges, of course. I hardly know where to begin to tell you..." There are stories to tell, so many things to share with the other man that he could not when he was merely checking in to reassure that he was alive and well. But now that they are face to face... He is awkward. Uncertain. He has been gone for far too long, he thinks to himself.

"The beginning," Lancelot suggests, and lifts his eyes to Faolan -- offers the man a smile as Bridei shifts in his arms. He presses a kiss to to the child's forehead, attention split between his charge and Faolan. He's captivated, in truth, and struggling to process the enormity of this. It's Bridei, in truth, who he knows -- who he has raised from a young hatchling yet it is also a child. Lancelot feels overwhelmed, as if he has been granted such a thing by providence, and the depths of his love for the little boy only run deeper and stronger. "I know Treun went well enough, what you found of the Fortuna family. Did you find Brianna easily enough?"

The more colourful details, after all, had been left out for expedience at the time -- Faolan had stuck to what was useful, what might help Lancelot in his attempts at diplomacy.

Faolan swallows hard as he watches Lancelot kiss Bridei's forehead. He wonders how long the water will take to heat for the bath, although he knows that regardless of the answer, that will not guarantee him an escape from these emotions. Quite the contrary, it's likely Lancelot will accompany him to continue their conversation, and he must steel himself for that, he supposes, if he should even hope to stand a chance. He takes in another deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts as he does.

"You could say so," he responds. "It would be just as much truth to say that she found me, however. We. Happened upon each other, I suppose you could say. In a tavern." He lowers his eyes to Lady, wondering if he is making himself sound bad as he says, "I had failed to find her for a few days, and then there she was, sitting right across the table from me. A stroke of luck to start things off, if you're one to believe in such things, I suppose."

Bridei gives a sleepy grumble as Lancelot cradles him, gently rocking the child as he listens to Faolan. A stroke of luck, he says, and Lancelot gently huffs in amusement.

"She is, perhaps, the most innocuous of them," he allows -- and shuffles himself on the bed so he can swing his legs up and lean into the headboard a little. He fixes the blankets a little better about Bridei, struggling to keep the smile from his face. "I told you that you did not need me to wish you luck," he reminds Faolan playfully, "and this is proof enough. You make your own luck, Faolan. whatever spirit or goddess is watching over you has yet to fail you when you are in need."

"Perhaps," Faolan says, mildly. "Although I have no doubt that whatever wishing you might have done certainly helped as well. I am not a man to hold credence in spirits or goddesses, after all. I've found that it is better to rely on myself. And perhaps the occasional support of a friend," he adds, with a wry smile in Lancelot's direction.

"Innocuous is certainly one way of putting it," he says, as he watches Lancelot settle himself and Bridei against the headboard. "She certainly didn't waste time with idle conversation, that was for certain. Once she recognized the ring, she gave the code, and then all but dragged me out to one of those spirit fountains to speak to her." He frowns slightly, uneasy still about the openness of the spot they had held their conversation, even if it had been necessary. "She's smart. Assessing. She was naturally wary of me and she had good cause to be, until I gave her reason otherwise. I can see why you chose her, especially for Treun."

"I will take that as a compliment."

Lancelot's smile flicks into something teasing, amused despite Faolan's unease. Perhaps also a little pleased at having Faolan's approval, although he would not directly say as such.

"I admit, I had a sense the two of you might get along. You are similar, the both of you, in good ways."

Faolan would tuck a leg up under him to get comfortable, but his boots are a mess and while sitting on the edge of Lancelot's bed as he is is one thing, getting actual dirt from the road on it is another matter entirely. So he shifts instead to turn sideways slightly and settle himself better as he is instead. "I knew that you thought we were similar before," Faolan says, quirking his head to the side slightly. "It is good to know that you believe that it is in good ways, however, and not because..." He trails off, shrugging slightly, not knowing quite how to finish the thought. He knows he's not the easiest friend to have, after all.

"She gave what information she could, but I have a feeling there will be more to learn in Treun, in the days to come," Faolan says. "I spoke to Lucrezia while I was there briefly, although it was...difficult to gather information from her." She is much closer to him than any other person he usually would seek to milk information from, at any rate.

"There is little at all bad I can say about you, Faolan save perhaps that you are far too critical of yourself. Ah!"

His eyes flick over as the door shifts open a little and a group of fairies flutter in carrying a bucket between them. Lancelot smiles at Faolan as they fly the hot water through, one dashing ahead to ease the door to Lancelot's wash room open more before they work in unison to pour it then fly it back out again. The next bucket follows a moment later.

"I told you it would be no trouble."

Faolan turns as the door opens, pausing his explanation as they flutter in with hot water precariously balanced between them. It's only as the second bucket is brought and poured and the next follows that Faolan realizes that he is being poured a bath and there is still much to cover. Which leaves, of course, two choices. To wait until tomorrow to continue this conversation - it is late, and no doubt the other man is tired. Or to continue... And have Lancelot sit with him as he bathes. Which is not inappropriate, considering how close the pair of them are, but. Considering Faolan's feelings for the other man... A dilemma indeed.

"If that is your sole complaint of my character," Faolan says, distractedly, watching the fairies with the water, "then it would seem that I have made the right choice in friendship after all."

"I am hurt you ever thought otherwise."

He huffs at Faolan in mock offence, eyes flicking between him and the fairies bringing in the water before he tilts his head toward the wash room.

"Go on, there are plenty of clean clothes if you do not have any of your own to hand. We can talk while you wash up, you'll feel better for it."

The empty buckets are carried out a little more quickly now there's no danger of sloshing, another set of fairies flitting in a short while later to pour a little more water. It's certainly hot, hot enough that a little steam rises from the surface. No doubt good for weary muscles, Lancelot thinks to himself.

Faolan nods, glancing towards the washroom and suddenly feeling more self-conscious than he is certain that he has ever felt in front of the other man before. He had had a feeling that the other man would suggest something along those lines, and he doesn't necessarily have a problem with the other man hanging around to speak to him while he bathes. It's Lancelot's own washroom after all, his bathing tub. It's more the idea of undressing in front of him, being undressed and in the same room as the other man. There are parts of him that are rather excited at the prospect of even that much, and he knows he needs to keep those parts of himself shoved in the deepest, darkest depths of his mind, in the furthest corners he can if he doesn't want to completely sabotage himself.

Faolan stands, taking a few steps towards the washroom and reaching to start undoing the ties on his shirt. "I. Have some things for you," he says, thinking fast. "In my bag." Distract Lancelot with his bag while he worked to quickly undress and get himself in the water. It's as good an idea as he can come up with, even if it's completely ridiculous.

"Don't worry about that," Lancelot murmurs, eyes dropping to Bridei a moment as he cradles him. He's starting to doze again. Exhaustion, Lancelot suspects, from the stress and fear of unexpected transformation. "We can sort things out tomorrow."

He hasn't moved, at least, to follow Faolan in -- he's safe for the moment, his only spectators the fairies bringing him water to top up the tub further.

(That, and Lady, who pads toward the washroom after a moment to check Faolan is well. Is he? He seems stressed. She could help, perhaps!)

From the stress and fear of the unexpected transformation, and the fact that it is late, and Bridei is still but a baby, a fact made all the more apparent by his present form. Faolan sends one more glance over his shoulder, at Lancelot and Bridei, the tiny form of him cradled against the other man's chest, before he ducks into the washroom completely. He knows now, even if Lancelot isn't going for the bag, with Bridei dozing against him like that, he's not about to make any sudden movements and wake him again. He has a few moments to spare at least, if Lancelot is going to plan on following him in at all.

He drops a hand to brush against Lady's head, between her ears, before he works on stripping himself of the rest of his clothes, glancing at them with a quiet sigh for a long moment before setting them aside for the fairies to launder. He picks up a clean cloth and sets it over the edge of the tub, although as he sinks into the water and the warmth of it begins to seep into tired and abused muscles and joints, washing up is not the first thing on his list at the moment. Faolan leans back against the edge of the tub, sinking deep into the water, releasing a deep breath that is nearly a hiss, for all it is a sound of relief. He shuts his eyes against the feeling of it, suddenly drowsy, for all that he cannot stop his mind from its circles. Is Lancelot going to follow him into the room? Can he hear him from there?

"Forgive me," Faolan murmurs, his voice quiet, as hushed as the gentle sound of the water sloshing around him in the tub. "I've forgotten where I left off..."

"You told me about Treun," he ventures, and there's the sound of fabric shifting as he pushes to his feet -- quietly moves to pick up a chair with one hand and carries it through to set down the other side of the washroom. He sits down slowly, trying not to jostle Bridei, more focused on making sure he stays dozing than Faolan particularly. He doesn't want to wake up Bridei, but neither does it seem sensible to stay in the other room and make Faolan shout to be heard.

"Tell me about the others, then, if you think you can regain some focus."

Lancelot looks up finally, offers Faolan a small smile as he adjusts Bridei in his arms and smooths his hair.

Faolan opens his eyes to watch Lancelot approach, watch him set the chair across the washroom from him and then settle down in it, settling Bridei in his lap and arms as he does. Watches him as he runs his hand through the child's hair and he takes a deep breath, wondering if he will ever get tired of watching him with Bridei as he is now, before quirking something of a smile back to him. If he can regain some focus indeed. "I can certainly try," he offers, before taking a deep breath, and attempting to do just that.

"From Treun I traveled to... Parrais, I believe it was." He shakes his head, remembering how uncomfortable he was in that city, this time not as Lancelot's bodyguard but as his own person, attempting to 'blend in'. "I spoke to Anne, but I'll admit, Dorian and your contact were more helpful as far as the goings-on within the city itself were concerned. Shaya." He repeats her name, trying to recall their interactions. It had been long enough by now, the details were getting fuzzy. He remembers how uncomfortable she made him, however. And he remembers everything that she told him. "There are assassinations being done in the city. Vampires hiring agents to take out those they believe responsible for the deaths of their kin in the area. Rumor says that a lot of them were artists, and in their absence, the local elves are strengthening their monopolies in the trade." He shrugs slightly, sloshing the water as he does, as if to say he does not know more than what he was told. "They say a number of them moved there after the Prince vanished."

Assassinations. Lancelot lets out a sigh at that, shakes his head and frowns down at Bridei. The steam warms the room and helps him stay settled, Lancelot dropping his eyes to the child every so often between studying Faolan. His voice stays soft, not wanting to disturbing the child now it's gone quiet.

"Dorian has made plenty of friends in the city, I do not doubt he was a good source of information. Yet assassinations... I knew that the tensions were bad, but still. It's troubling to thing it has spread so far. I had hoped to speak to their new leader after Thranduil left, but... he has been busy, there has no been time. We will see. Perhaps something can still be done."

Somehow, to speak of such things while holding a child makes the weight heavier still. The thought that assassins could be sent against Bridei, still so young and defenceless, fills him with dread.

Faolan nods slightly. "He does seem to be, if somewhat biased. Some of the information given to me conflicted with that of Shaya's, at least. Regardless of which one of them had the correct information, it is enough of a tell to demonstrate that the tensions between the elves and the vampires are anything but steady in the city. For now most of it seems to be centered around this conflict and the art trade, but I do not doubt that such a tension will spread, if given the chance."

Faolan is quiet for a moment, hesitant, watching Lancelot sitting there with Bridei. The fact that they are speaking of such matters in front of the child does not escape him either. At least he is sleeping, and if they are lucky, would not understand such concepts at such an early age even if he weren't. "I would suggest that you do pursue relations with this new leader of theirs," he advises, "if you do not want the conflict to advance. I am not familiar with either group, but I would hazard a guess that allowing it to escalate further would cause troubles for more than just Parrais."

"To what end?" he prompts, eyes lifting finally -- studying Faolan curiously. "Should the Seelie court involve itself in such affairs, I wonder? Would we be welcome to? If there is some... cause, some crime to be solved which has generated such disquiet in the first place then that we could help with... yet, would we in a position to? The cult of the fox thrives as it does because the natives feel they have no voice, they are not heard. If we are to step into the affairs of them further than we must tread softly, not be seen to be taking vengeance from them or meddling in things that we do not understand."

"Perhaps not involve itself," Faolan acquiesces. "It is as you say. The cult thrives off of the general disdain that the natives have for shardbearers interfering in business that they have no business to have their hands in. But it is clear, from the information I've been told, that this feud between the elves and the vampires is a no new disagreement. If you should want Parrais to lean towards the Seelie side, then you must decide whether that means to let the conflict continue as it will, or whether it would be within the Seelie court's better interests to take some sort of stand, neutral or otherwise."

"At least," Faolan continues, glancing across at the other man, before lowering his gaze, and sinking further into the water surrounding him. "That would be my advice on the matter. As far as Parrais is concerned." Speaking of the cult, he supposes he should mention Daonna next. What with the lockets down, Faolan wonders whether Lancelot has heard of the hangings and the upset there, or not.

Lancelot sighs, drops his eyes back to Bridei and gently smooths the child's curls.

Child. It's a strange thing, to think he suddenly has the care of a human child to think of -- not only a dragon.

"Parrais is already our sister-city. She is loyal to begin with, hardly marked by anti-shardbearer sentiment. Our concern is not if it will lean towards our side, but if we risk unbalancing an existing alliance with either inaction or action. We do not want to damage a friendship by treading upon their toes when they already have their council, their own investigators, yet... the Elves were given their land by High King Ridire, in a trade to Elven King Thranduil who united the clans. The Elves have been united under a Seelie banner. If we take a side it should be theres, although better of course that the conflict end peacefully."

He gestures vaguely with a hand.

"Something worth thinking on, but a debate for another time when you are less tired. Tell me what else you found."

'When we are both less tired,' Faolan wants to comment, but he doesn't. It's late, he'd probably be falling asleep in the water if it weren't for the conversation, and while it's better that they get this out of the way sooner rather than later, they both need their rest.

Turning his head to watch the other man run his hand over the child's dark curls, he steels himself for a moment, before speaking up again. "You heard of the hangings in Daonna," he says, both a question and a statement at the same time, keeping his voice quiet as though trying to keep it from Bridei. Which is ridiculous, really. He's too young to understand most of what they're talking about beyond the emotion behind it, and besides that, he seems to have fallen fast asleep against the other man's chest, the excitement of the change having taken a lot out of him. But something about the idea of speaking of these things in front of the child keeps Faolan's voice quiet anyway.

"I was there when they happened. The city was... Unsettled. More so than usual, if you can believe so." Lancelot had been there in Daonna to investigate the sorcerers before, after all, he has some basic understanding of what the city is like. He waits to see if Lancelot has any input on the matter, before he should continue.

TIMESKIP POST

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