S1: E21 "Saving Mr Banks"

"The golden lad dipped his head and whispered in those ears the greatest secret he possessed. The jeweled eyes sparkled, and the seal was broken on that hard face. For as the doors swung open his lips parted, and the guardian's smile bade them pass." 

~A Tale of Fairy by Honeydew Millicent-Green

Adamant Refusal

A man has his limits. Pushed too far, he snaps. Pushed far enough and he becomes more interesting. Thomas Thompson had been pushed around. All his life someone was kicking the poor unfortunate soul. Now he was at a crossroads. There was a line too far. Unfortunately, he was sticking up for himself with all the wrong people. The next few hours were going to be very interesting.

After their little truce, Thomas and Lady Vyse had gone to the home of Lindion Mavienness at her request. Well, Lady Vyse was not requested. Lindion very much resented this woman being in her home. In the decadent and formal society of Newhaven it was very common for anyone who made a pound more then you or was regarded as a someone to be able to be hosted, doted on and given every consideration despite your personal feelings. Lindion had far too much pride. More accurately, Daverreinna was having none of it. She would in life have repelled such behavior and now was unwilling to take it from a floozy, no matter how much money she had married into. Lindion tried her best to silence the protests, but they came out anyway. Lady Vyse was of course offended. You weren't supposed to question bad behavior or any insensitivities. They were endured, like an overbearing mother-in-law until you could shirt off the burden. I personally relished the idea of Lady Vyse knocking the old hack off with poison or a knife. I would relish the mixture of hurt shock and resentment in the wrinkly lines of that woman's face. But then, as long as she was alive, mortals had to endure her tenacious existence.

After the birds smoothed out their ruffled feathers, Lindion ventured to ask Thomas the question that had brought him here in the first place. She inquired as to his relationship to Low Park, if his relationships would be ideal for starting a network of informants to feed her useful information. Thomas politely refused. It wasn't that he disliked Lindion. But this was him standing up for himself. Perhaps Thomas was embarrassed about the fact he was of low birth and did have friends and family in Low Park. He had rich friends now. He had purpose and more work than he knew what to do. Who needed an eccentric Eldren to muddy things up. Oh, Thomas. If only you knew how complicated things were about to get. I said Lindion would save his life. Perhaps it had already. But mankind always has a choice. When you throw open the window and jump clear, many more doors slam shut.

This was not to be the only adamant refusal of help Thomas was to turn down. Having been refused, Lindion graciously turned Thomas over to Father Collins. The gnomish priest asked Thomas about the bombing and his involvement in the attack on the gin house. Thomas refused to talk about anything regarding this whole situation, perhaps taking a page from Lady Vyse's book on taking offence. He wanted to put this all behind him. He had a mission, a purpose and plenty of reasons to keep his nose clean. He was on his way up. 

Realizing that pressing the issue would yield little but further alienation of the boy, Father Collins excused himself and left his friends' house. Thomas and Lady Vyse also departed, needing to prepare for the Bridgerton Party.

Refuge

Yuko was enjoying a carriage ride outside of Newhaven. The sensation of being alone in so many weeks without a guardian or a yammering lady at her elbow was intensely satisfying. They passed over the small bridge and through the town of Stonehill. The tar and smoke of the small fishing town rose up and mingled with the cool salty air as the carriage rattled past down the common roads cut through waves of tall prairie grass. This was a new sight for Yuko, and one she had not the real pleasure of soaking up until now.

There were many estates, country villas and beach houses owned by the wealthy of Newhaven. Some were elaborate, while others served as a shelter to enjoy a day or two on the seashore. The seagulls cried overhead as they swooped down or leveraged the air currents, gently gliding across the open space. A few people could be seen walking the short paths along the shores and the sandy shores. 

The carriage pulled off the main road and wound down around beneath a bluff which would have made a more cautious person nervous. But as it rounded the corner, Yuko saw a series of wooden structures behind a wall of stone and wooden fences. A footman approached. Yuko told him she was here to visit Telmage Etherington. The footman disappeared for a few moments and returned, beckoning Yuko to enter. The driver was dismissed, and she was escorted through the gates into a small paradise.

It really was unlike anything she had ever seen. The interior was a series of flat wooden platforms supported by rough stone pillars. Chairs, low wide hearths and various outbuildings were spread about in such a lazy fashion that it made the place seem quite large. There were canvas awnings stretched here and there to give it a feel of a bazaar or marketplace. But Yuko felt everything was intentional. The artwork displays of swords, nautical devices and paintings were set in such a way there was no way of turning without bumping into another bit of beauty.  The largest building was set right up against the face of the bluff. Its wide porches were broken up only by wooden pillars which had braziers set on them and seemed to be nothing but panels of wooden boards which could be opened or closed as the need arose. It gave the place a very open and spacious feel. It was spartan by comparison to the wealth of Newhaven's mansions. This was something special, removed from the world. A private paradise for one, Telmage Etherington.

The man himself came up a large flight of stairs which led down into a series of hallways and rooms. Some sleeping quarters and others storage for food and wine. This Yuko learned later, while Telmage was giving her the grand tour. Set further back in the rock was more rooms, including a library, studios and salons. Telmage was wearing a loose-fitting linen shirt opened uncomfortably wide at the neck. He wore white linen pants and was barefoot. He looked the part of a sailor, with his hair flowing freely. Yuko quite liked the look, oblivious perhaps to the unseemly nature of his appearance. Most women would have politely fainted or excused themselves as this would have been considered a state of undress. No Northerner could be considered a prude. They were less likely to feign shock at the sight of a bare-chested man or "scantily" clad woman. They had the highest of standards for social events and formal occasions. There was a sense of common respect. But they were also very practical people. However, their traditions and social norms might have stunned a well-bred man or women from the High Moors. Some might have appreciated the gravity of the situations that crossed a line. The punishment might have even been considered harsh.

I will not recount their conversation as it mostly involved such grotesque use of the Teran tongue, it would have little bearing now. Suffice to say, Yuko wished to have Telmage join her on the hunting expedition and in turn Telmage saw an opportunity to enjoy the company of Yuko at the Bridgerton party. Both accepted, naturally. They continued chattering on idly while drinking some wonderfully aged brandy and basking in the sun and the waves. It was an equally enjoyable time for both, though if I had to listen to more inane chatter, I should have strangled the butler. Which, as you know, is against the rules.

Yuko eventually pried herself away from the company of that oily man and returned to Newhaven with high hopes of sending back a positive report to the Royal House of a positive gain for peace.

A Little Burne

Father Collins returned after his meeting to talk with Burnes about his interview with Thompson. He paused outside as the sounds of a heated dispute were going on inside. Leaning down to tie his shoe he happened to better hear the conversation, he could make out the voice of Goldie. Just as he managed to straighten up, a red-faced man with white hair and mustaches barged out, nearly knocking him over as he stormed down the hall. Father Collins let himself in, trying to sound positive as Burnes ineffectually smiled and asked if he had any news. Father Collins climbed into the chair offered by Goldie and with legs dangling off the chair, he told of his interview with Thomas Thompson. It was obvious to see that this was disappointing news. Burnes then told Father Collins about the recent clash with the Whalers and the resulting death of a Constable. They manifested strange aetheric powers, remnants still lingering in the vicinity after the clash. The violence was becoming noticeable, and they needed something to stem this tide of twisted magical trinkets. Burnes encouraged Father Collins to lean on Thomas more or they might have to take a more aggressive approach. Father Collins assured him that things would work themselves out and excused himself, his mind turning towards the magical sigils scribbled down on the paper in his pocket.