The journey out of the mountains is not nearly as nerve-wracking as the journey in. Not only do they have their wayward goblin, Feezle, in tow, but the legendary Elysia, the former bandit queen as well. Hannah has even managed to talk Lyne into coming along. There was a bit of a disagreement from the other cats, but Lyne calmly reminded them that he may be old, but he's not dead, and he'll do as he likes, thank-you-very-much Huh, there is an attitude that Hannah has encountered somewhere before...
Lyne's broad shoulders roll as he leans in to inspect the elf-popsicle. "Hmph," the cat grumbles and rolls his head to the side to look to Elysia. "Overly dramatic trap."
Elysia can't help and curl her lips into an amused smile. "Well, it was to catch an overly dramatic man," she explains as she spreads her hands. "I do hope this knight has some passion to him; a waste to use such a crafted trap if he lacks any fire."
"Doubtful," Prince Feezle mutters to himself. "Knights have as much sense of humor and passion as a tree stump."
Minstrel Sam has been keeping himself warm by trying to figure out ways to rhyme Hannah and dragon. "Dragon, flagon, diagon-al, ah-ha! Amazon." He blinks up to see they've arrived. "Oh! This looks familiar."
Rosy looks everywhere but at the icy statue of the mounted knight, as if expecting some new horror (or old acquaintance) to appear.
The Tristan-statue looks cold and impenetrable, his hair seeming as though caught in the breeze -- but frozen and motionless as the rest of him.
Princess Peaches sniffs at the immobilized Souhait, but doesn't go so far as trying to lick him to see if her tongue sticks.
"As I recall, I was going to try and build a fire to thaw ol' Tristan out," the old bard reminisces to Hannah. "'cept the ghost that was here had a little... disagreement with me on the wisest course of action to take. Seemed she thought my innards would be a better device with which to warm him."
Hannah gives the older woman a rather knowing half-smile. "Oh, I found him to be quite passionate once I got to know him," she remarks. "So I don't think your spell hasn't been wasted at all." Then she takes the ice dragon's dewclaw from her pack and carefully unwinds the cloth she'd wrapped it in - well, as best she can manage with bandaged hands, anyway. "Please let this work," she says softly, to no one in particular.
Hannah's hands don't feel that bad anymore, thankfully (and the bandages sure help against the cold wind here). Perhaps it's because of who she is trying to cut free from the ice that fuels the amazing intensity she displays as she cuts away the shell of ice and snow that encases the object of her lips' desire without so much as even knocking a hair out of place. Within minutes, she's managed to cut Tristan and Souhait from their icy prison. A few not so gentle prods and they even start to wake up.
Minstrel Sam adds helpfully, "This is normally done with a kiss to the person to be woken up from an enchanted slumber." He looks at Hannah expectantly.
Souhait stirs first, whuffling and shaking out his mane and tail. He blinks his eyes and stamps one forehoof; the rest of him doesn't seem to be moving much yet.
"In times of yore it had to be a prince, but they relaxed that in the Minor Nobility Empowerment Act of 27," Sam adds.
Peaches gives Sam a look. You can't really expect me to kiss Souhait. Knightsteeds don't kiss! she thinks at the small man, for whatever good it might do.
The faerie looks oblivious to Peaches's thoughts.
Hannah gives the minstrel a grin and a laugh before placing the dewclaw on the ground and climbing up into Peaches' saddle. Then she gently urges the mare forward until she's flank-to-flank with Souhait. She reaches out with one bandaged hand and traces her fingertips along Tristan's jaw. "Time to wake," she says, watching and waiting to see if the man responds.
"I could kiss him if no one else wants to," Elysia offers. "I imagine he would appreciate the experience of an older woman..."
To avoid watching her mistress in action, Peaches bites Souhait's ear and smacks at him with her tail to try and rouse him further.
"Don't look at me, I'm not kissing anyone," Feezle blurts!
One of Tristan's eyes opens a crack; Hannah is close enough to see, but no one else is. His lips barely move, but she hears him whisper out, " ... were I Lord Thomas, m'lady, I would surely wait for that kiss." His voice is cracked and hoarse.
"You're lips aren't even properly split, Feezle," Rosy notes. "Why would anyone want to kiss you?"
Souhait whickers in protest at Peaches's ill-treatment. He jerks his head away from her, and aims a kick in her general direction. It's slow enough she won't have any trouble evading it.
Feezle glares at Rosy ... then seems to decide to demonstrate, by kissing Rosy! Of course, he soon learns the error in his cunning plan. "Bleh, I need some mint," he complains afterward.
"Aaagh!" Rosy complains as she falls on her tail.
Peaches sidesteps Souhait's kick, figuring she has roused him enough for now.
Hannah doesn't need any more urging. She leans across her saddle and kisses the knight, feeling his mouth warm and soft against hers. She's also so relieved to see him free again that two tears slide down the sides of her face.
Minstrel Sam grins. "Ah, feel the romance in the air!" He strums his lute and breaks into song, "o There you see him, sittin there in a block of ice, he doesn't have much to say, 'cept for a withering comment about Tom, you don't know why but there's magic in the air, you wanna kiss the elf... o"
Much to her credit, Hannah also ignores all of the ruckus and commentary going on around her and focuses only on Tristan.
Tristan closes his eyes to return the kiss, with all the passion that Feezle asserted he didn't have. He cups her cheek in one cold hand, and as they kiss it warms, color returning to grey-white skin, hair falling in golden waves back to his shoulders. When Tristan lifts his mouth from hers for a moment, he murmurs, "I thought I would never be warm again. Thank you, m'lady."
Rosy can't take it, and so kisses Sam! Either to stop the song or to pass on Feezle's cooties. She at least makes it quick and escapes immediately afterwards.
Lyne just covers his eyes with one of his large hands. "He still attracts the odd," the old cat complains.
"Aigh!" Sam splutters mid-song, then grabs up a snowball and flings it after Rosy, laughing.
Hannah smiles against Tristan's lips for a moment before kissing him again and warming him even more. When she finally relents and lets him go, she whispers back, teasingly, "If you ever dismount from Souhait, I can warm a the rest of you. Or at least, as much as is proper in public."
Peaches whinnies, as if to remind Hannah that they're all freezing to death.
"We could go elsewhere so we can all warm up," Elysia notes, "I'm sure we can find a chamber where you and he can have ... privacy if you wish. I understand that courtly relations do tend to take time."
"I'm not sure I could stand on my own if I dismounted," he murmurs. "I'd need to lean on you for support." His hand slides down to her neck, and then wraps around her back. Then he puts his other arm around her and pulls her in a surprisingly smooth move pulls her from Peaches and onto Souhait, so the Hannah's sitting sideways in her lap. He hugs her to his chest and closes his eyes again.
"We could go to the hot spring again," Rosy offers, licking her lips at the memory of the tasty tree sap.
Tristan whispers in Hannah's ear, "Your entourage has grown. I don't think I want to know what that woman is insinuating. I'd probably be obliged to take offense or something."
Hannah cuddles up against Tristan quite willingly and sighs in contentment but she does tell him, loudly enough for the rest to hear, "Our friends do have a point about the cold, however. If Souhait is willing to carry us both for a while, we can seek out one of these sheltered places Elysia speaks of. Or would you rather push on to the hot springs and rest there?"
"Hey, Feezle," Rosy says. "How did you feel after being cut out of the ice? Any weird sensations?"
Then Hannah whispers back, "I wouldn't, if I were you. That is the Bandit Queen, after all. She'd probably just toss you on your rump in a fair fight. She did it to me, anyway!"
"Where ever you think best, m'lady. I admit to having fonder memories of the spring than of this place." Tristan knees Souhait gently, and the knightsteed starts forward. Souhait glares a warning at Peaches, moving slowly. Possibly for the comfort of his riders, but more likely because he's still stiff from being frozen. Tristan mouths "ah" to Hannah. "I won't, then. Feezle?" He turns at the name to look at the other new additions. "You rescued the wayward prince!"
The old minstrel wheezes and shoulders his sling again, glaring after the Kissing Doglin. "Some sarsaparilla would be welcome, aye," he agrees.
"All right then, we move on to the hot springs," Hannah agrees. "And would someone please pack up that dewclaw again? I'd like to add it to the Hawks' trophy room!"
Peaches snorts, and looks around to see if the others need a ride, since it's either her or Lyne now.
Tristan turns back to Hannah. "Well done, m'lady, indeed. I see I have a great deal of catching up to do! How long were we entombed in that block of ice?"
"Let's see, it's... How many years would you say?" Minstrel Sam says innocently, looking over at Hannah.
"Surely not years!" Tristan gives Sam a horrified look. "Wouldn't you be dead by now?"
"Oh, perhaps a hundred or more," Hannah replies casually, in response to the minstrel. "At least, that's what it felt like to me."
It's Elysia who retrieves the dewclaw and tucks it away. Lyne, for his part, growls warningly at the woman. She, of course, just bats her eyelashes at him.
"No one rides me, I am not a steed," Lyne mutters as he follows after the odd group.
Sam says nonchalantly, "Oh, well, there was a Fountain of Youth somewhere in all that time."
Tristan blanches for a moment when Hannah appears to confirm it, and then shakes his head as she finishes. He gives her another kiss, instead of asking more questions.
Again, with Elysia in lead, the group manages their way through the maze without incident. Hannah, in fact, doesn't even fall on her face this time when crossing the invisible bridge. It's once more evening as the menagerie makes their way back to the old grove.
"Whomever made this place had a sense of humor," Lyne remarks as he makes his way over to one of the trees and settles down against it heavily. "I wish this was a fountain of youth. Time is never kind."
Almost immediately, Rosy breaks out the camp mugs and starts filling them fresh root beer for people. "I can't wait to wash the cat smell out of my clothes and fur!" she says. Then offers Lyne a mug while trying to look apologetic about the outburst.
Souhait walks straight into the pool. He only pauses to let Tristan and Hannah dismount after he's up to his knees while the fey knight complains and pulls back on the reins.
"Did I say Youth? I meant Roots," Sam says innocently. He glugs down some of the frothy drink and refills a canteen.
Tristan pulls off his boots and throws them to shore, then slides down into the water and offers Hannah a hand. Not that she needs it. But he offers anyway.
Lyne's eyes blink as he glares briefly at the doglin while he accepts the mug. The glare quickly becomes an amused, if toothy, grin as he accepts the mug. "You are lucky I have a thick skin," he remarks.
Hannah merely laughs at the Knightsteed's pressing need to get into the warm pool. She does the same with her own boots and only then does she take the offered hand. She slides off Souhait and into Tristan's arms again, embracing him tightly. "We should probably sit with the others so we can all take turns at catching you up," she says into his ear.
"Well, I guess age does that to cats," Rosy nods, as if having received great wisdom. Then she goes about removing her clothes that can't be gotten wet (namely, boots and vest-o-pockets) before chugging down her root beer and jumping into the pool, where she splashes about in an attempt to wash her clothing while still wearing it.
Peaches stays out of the water, and keeps a close eye on Feezle to make sure he isn't unduly ogling Hannah.
"Only if you'll sit with me," he whispers in answer, holding her just as tightly. He sighs in relief, and she can feel the tension easing out of him at the embrace. Then he adds, with a mock-fearful glance to the others, "They are such strange folk! What would I do without you to protect me from them?"
Feezle, for some reason, is examining Peaches' rump. "Rump roast," he mutters to himself, then licks his lips.
The Knightsteed mare snaps her teeth warningly at the half-goblin, and adds in a bit of red-glowing-eyes glamour to get her point across.
Hannah laughs lightly as she takes the knight's hand and leads him to a spot near Lyne. "You would do just as well, I am sure, although you might not be...as well-entertained."
Feezle just hmphs, crosses his arms, and walks away. The odd goblin flops down at the base of one of the trees and leans back.
"You know, it's too bad about that troll-bunny," Rosy says, out of the blue. "I bet Grizelda would have loved it! She'd never run out of rabbit meat!"
"... and now I'm not sure I want whatever's for dinner," Tristan says with a glance to Rosy. He sits with the others, accepting a mug of root beer in one hand and holding Hannah's with the other. His fingers are still a little cool to the touch.
"Proper royalty all have pet guardian monsters, after all," Rosy notes.
Lyne takes a moment looking over Tristan now with an appraising eye. "Knight of April," he concludes and makes a short nod. "Related to Randall?"
Minstrel Sam busies himself with cooking a feast for the returning heroes. Well, as much of one as can be improvised with the food and spices to hand! It features rootbeer-basted roast rabbits and dried carrots reconstituted with a sauce from the rabbits, and to wipe one's hands or cut the grease, hard trailbread warmed by the fireside.
Ever so gradually, Peaches makes her way closer to the bread..
Tristan nods to Lyne. "Distantly. He was a several-times great uncle," he says.
"Hey, would you like to be our princess' guardian monster, Lyne?" Rosy asks the big cat, looking thoughtful. "I mean, it's only fair that Greedle has one of their own. Mirari has Redmane, after all!"
Lyne nods at that. "He was a good man," the great cat comments. Up close, Tristan can appreciate how large Lyne is. Easily a ten foot tall mass of pure white fur and muscle, with piercing blue eyes. Its the eyes most of all that betray age that he physically doesn't show, along with intelligence.
Hannah now raises an eyebrow at the doglin, then looks back at Tristan. "You know, I don't think Lord Melchizedek would like to hear himself referred to as Mirari's 'guardian monster,'" she murmurs, in between his conversation with Lyne.
"I imagine he's heard worse," Tristan replies softly to Hannah, with a wry smile. To Lyne, he asks, "Are you one of the fabled snow tigers, then? Have you an affinity for House April?"
Lyne answers Rosy's question with, "Not right now. There are ... matters I must attend to. Old mistakes to mend."
"I have little affinity for any House, as all would often call my kind monsters," Lyne says, though not unkindly about it. "We have little interaction with the fey anymore; it has proven safer for us."
Tristan directs a questioning look from Lyne to Hannah, looking for an explanation.
Hannah holds the knight's hand more tightly for reassurance, then says, "There was a time when Lyne was very closely connected to the fey, and the Golden Hawks in particular. Lyne is Lord Thomas' adopted son. They have had a long falling-out, but we hope to rectify that." She also gives the great cat a firm nod as she says this.
"Eat up, folks," Sam says as he dishes up roasted rabbits with carrots and bread. Lyne's is a brace of rabbits since he'll need a little more food than the average fae.
Tristan is obviously surprised, but he nods in comprehension. "I see. You have my sympathies, sir," he adds to Lyne.
"On which?" Lyne asks.
At Sam's declaration, Peaches grabs half of the bread and trots off with it. Then Rosy climbs out of the pool and shake-shake-shakes everything but her clothes dry.
"On all of it," Tristan answers. "Well. Especially on being Lord Thomas's adopted son," he admits, taking a plate from the Minstrel with thanks.
Lyne snorts slightly at that. "I take from that you do not like him, then," the feline says, "Do you know him?"
Hannah smiles and tries to keep her answer light. "Sir Tristan knows Thomas, yes, but I believe there is not as much understanding between them as one might like. Knightly duties sometimes do not mesh with ours, wouldn't you agree, Lyne?"
"I have met him. I have heard innumerable stories of him. He saved my land from destruction and chaos." Tristan takes a sip from his drink. "What he has done for my world and my people, I admire and appreciate beyond measure. But he is not an easy man to deal with, face-to-face. Or rather, I should say, he is not an easy man for me to deal with. I do not know him. The Lady Hannah is far better acquainted with him than I."
Getting her own plate, and one for Feezle, Rosy brings the food to the half-goblin before sitting down next to the fire to finish drying off her clothes. Mmmmm.. wet doglin smell.
Hannah tries to chase away the smell of Rosy's wet fur by inhaling the scent of her rabbit as she eats it, listening to Lyne and Tristan talk for a minute.
Rosy wags her tail, and offers Hannah a piece of bread with a big horse-bite taken out of it.
Wisely, Hannah declines the bread and takes a bite of her carrots, instead.
Tristan dips his bread into the sauce to soften it, then takes a bite himself. It may not be the finest foods, but he enjoys it greatly. It's the first food he's had in -- "How long was I ensorcelled?" he asks Hannah again, softly.
"In some ways, no," Lyne agrees with a nod. "I would ask that you get to know him before you cast judgments on him as a person. He has endured much and lost much over the Years. He has been betrayed more than once, and watched many people he cared for deeply die to one injustice or another. He is by far not perfect, and often doesn't explain himself." The cat sighs, adding, "He has always felt as an outsider to many things and guards himself through ... bravado, I suppose. To just give some examples; his parents died due to House conflicts. Did you know he was engaged to be married when he was younger? He lost her to a dwarven raid. And many others that I should leave as his secrets lest he wishes to reveal them."
Hannah takes a drink of her root beer and nudges Tristan playfully. "Only a few days, truly! Although I still say they seemed like a hundred years to me."
"Hey, do I get to meet Thomas too?" Rosy asks. "I wanna be a Golden Hawk!"
Tristan starts to say something in response to Lyne, then stops. He nods instead. "You are right," he says simply. He smiles at Hannah, ducking his head to kiss the side of her head.
"Rosy," Hannah says with a mischievious twinkle in her eyes, "you shall indeed meet Lord Thomas, if I have anything to say about it! In fact, I'd very much like to observe that meeting..."
"I mean, a proper meeting this time," Rosy says. "Last time I was hiding behind a pillar when you guys came through the castle.."
"You seem quite qualified to become a Hawk to me, Rosy. You were a far more capable companion to Lady Hannah than I, and they let me be a knight." He winks. "Lord Thomas may have stricter standards, of course."
"Does that mean I can be a knight too?" the doglin barks excitedly. "Cool beans!"
Hannah takes another few bites of her meal and replies to the doglin, "A proper, face-to-face meeting, just as you say." Then to Tristan, she says, "So I believe you can also see why it is so important for Lyne to mend things with his adoptive father. Now, as for Feezle...there lies a small problem. We found him trapped in the lair of an ice dragon but once he was freed, we discovered that he didn't want to go back to Grizzelda! So we have a plan to grant him his liberty."
"Probably." Tristan looks wry again. "I think the Golden Hawks have a more interesting job, however." He turns to Hannah. "Ah ... yes, I believe we were concerned about that possibility from the outset. What is your plan, then?"
"Bear something else in mind, knight of April," Lyne adds as an afterthought, "His best, and most trusted, friends, were Randall of House April, and Knight Redmane of May." He then leaves the discussion at that and finally eats some of the meal Sam had prepared.
Hannah casts a sly glance over at the Bandit Queen now and grins. "Elysia is going to challenge Grizzelda to a duel. With Feezle as the 'prize.' If we're lucky, she'll be so scared she won't even accept!"
"Apparently the younger generation finds humor in using older women for their own gain," Elysia comments dryly from where she's eating.
"You better be careful how you word the challenge," Rosy advises. "She's a Princess. She could choose a champion to fight for her."
"You could have refused, you know," is all Hannah says from her corner. But her grin gets a little wider.
Tristan nods seriously to the concern Rosy raises. "And the question of the method of the duel could be important, as well. What are goblin duelling customs?"
"Her 'champions' couldn't fight their way out of a turnip patch," Feezle comments around a chunk of bread. Apparently he doesn't have any qualms about eating a loaf hat has a horse-shaped bite in it.
"And why is that, exactly? Are they very inexperienced, or something of the kind?" Hannah asks Feezle.
"Well, Tristan is a Knight, she might try to choose him," Rosy supposes. "She doesn't have any knights of her own yet. The candidates keep falling off the donkeys."
"Most of the really good ones died in the war," Feezle explains, "It was the ones that ran that survived."
"So, she's got the smarter goblins," Rosy adds to the end of Feezle's explanation. "Or wiser one. Or.. well, the Shaman is pretty sharp.."
"And naked," Feezle adds helpfully.
"But you need to figure out the terms of the challenge beforehand, or she'll choose something she thinks she can win at, like feasting or quaffing."
Rosy notes.
"Perhaps I could claim infirmity. I did just get thawed out of an icy tomb." Tristan leans back against a tree. "In truth, I'm not sure I'd be any use with a sword at this point."
Hannah hmms at the information. "Then I guess you'll have to keep the challenge on a very personal level," she comments to Elysia. "To keep Grizzelda from making any substitutions...as inept or naked as they may be. And limit it to combat only."
"Oh, no arm wrestling either," Rosy advises. "I think that's how she became the princess. That and poisoning the rest of her family, but that's just ordinary royalty stuff."
Tristan adds, "Under Mirari law, the challenged chooses the weapons -- in which case, best if we can get her to challenge Elysia, somehow."
"Nude, oiled, wrestling is technically combat," Feezle comments, "And would you want to grab her? Think greased pig, only nastier."
"What a delightful mental image," Elysia mutters.
"I think you should make it a magical duel, or else do something so impressive when you meet her that she'll give in," Rosy notes. "It won't hurt her standing at all if she just refuses to compete and lets you take Feezle. That's pretty much the whole basis for Greedle in the first place."
"All right, if the challenged party chooses weapons, Elysia may have to get into an argument with Grizzelda over Feezle first. To try and make her mad enough to offer a challenge," Hannah reasons. "That's a bit risky, of course, since we don't know for sure if Grizzelda would feel so inclined. That's why I was hoping Grizzelda would just see a challenge from Elysia as a losing proposition and decline at the very first."
"Hey, I've been wondering," Rosy says, looking to Elysia and Feezle. "But, who is Feezle's grandpa?"
"Which she might. Perhaps we're making this unduly complicated. But it won't hurt to have a backup plan." Tristan eats some more of the roast rabbit and carrots.
"Why does that matter?" Elysia asks Rosy.
"I'm just curious?" Rosy says. "I mean, was he fey or one of Lord Eion's minions? Did you kidnap him from some farm because he was cute? Did he follow you around because he was smitten? Were just trying out your restored youth and had an accident? Was he a smart man? You know.. stuff like that! Trivia."
"Well, I like the idea of Elysia making a grand enough entrance to scare Grizzelda from the outset," Hannah says. "And since she also has some magic at her command - as Rosy pointed out - that could be very easy to do. As for a Plan B, well, the only one we have is to offer her something of an alliance with the Golden Hawks. I've been informed that what she really wants is a way to improve her city, so an alliance may be an attractive tool for doing that."
"Maybe he was Lord Eion," Elysia remarks wryly as she pauses in her own dinner.
Tristan murmurs under his breath to Hannah, "I gather there were some interesting details of Feezle's heritage that came to light in the days that I was frozen?"
"Ewww, no way," Rosy whines. "Lord Eion was pure and nice and.. that would mean Feezle really was my prince."
"Or maybe not," Elysia adds. "Really, it is hardly proper for a lady to talk about her conquests."
Hannah whispers back to Tristan, "Indeed. As you may have already observed, Feezle is only half-goblin. He is also half-fey. The fey part of himself is of Elysia's line. So she is, ah, actually related to him."
"I'd sure talk about mine if they were good ones!" Rosy says, her mood shifting again. "I'd lord it over those goblin girls with their 'oh so proper' droopy noses and muddy eyes. Hah! I'd say, I bagged Sir Great Hair! And they'd all growl and mutter and go home to beat on their boyfriends for not being as great!"
Tristan nods to Hannah. "And thus his desire to seek her out." He looks a little disturbed by the conversation between Elysia and Rosy.
"As for your delusion that Lord Eion was pure ... he was not," Elysia notes, "Consider his collection of wraiths and the innumerable people that died because of him."
"Just because he was evil doesn't make him a bad person," Rosy insists, crossing her arms. "He had a destiny to fulfill and all. He was always nice to me. He never even beat me with anything harder than a switch."
Hannah rolls her eyes heavenward now as she says to Rosy, "By the way, Tristan is my gorgeous fey knight with great hair. Go find your own!"
From the edge of the firelight, Peaches rolls her eyes in an expression that says, "Dogs."
Tristan snorts. "A stellar commendation, to be sure. I'm sure the switch was never wider than a man's thumb, either," he mutters.
"Why, what sort does Hannah use to train you with, Sir Tristan?" Rosy asks, her ears perked forward.
"She has far more subtle and devious means at her disposal," Tristan answers, with dignity. "Like ... sometimes when she wants something ... " he drops his voice low " -- she'll ask for it. With words!"
"Are you certain there is no alcohol in this?" Lyne mutters as he now looks in his empty mug. "They are all acting as if drunk"
Hannah sighs as the knight and doglin banter. "So, does making a grand entrance, possibly with a magic spell, and challenging Grizzelda to a duel for Feezle sound all right to you?" she asks Elysia as an aside. "Since the others seem to have wandered off to other topics..."
"She should ride in on the back of a dragon!" Rosy suggests.
Tristan gives Hannah an apologetic look, then blinks at Rosy. "What, do you still have the ice dragon handy?"
Elysia leans back against her tree and thinks for a moment. "Rosy, as insane as she may be, has a good suggestion. I can use one of the claws to create a brief illusion of Valanice. It would certainly get attention, both good and bad," she comments to Hannah.
Hannah hmms and actually rubs her hands together a little (minding the bandages). "I think that is an excellent idea. I know I was certainly intimidated by Valanice when I first saw her!"
"I am not insane," Rosy grouses. "I am the smartest doglin in the world, and very good at.. SQUIRREL!" She jumps to her feet and stares into the tree branches for a bit. "Ahem, very good at strategy," she concludes.
"You are the only doglin in the world," Lyne points out.
"I was smarter than the others Lord Eion made too," Rosy points out. "They were dumb and got eaten by the rats because they couldn't read."
Tristan takes one of Hannah's hands in his own and turns it over. "Another important question as yet unanswered -- what happened to your hands, m'lady?"
Hannah blinks at Tristan for a moment. "Ah. Yes. I had a rather nasty incident with an iron warhammer." At the knight's look, she adds hastily, "It was necessary to defeat the ice dragon."
"The magic should be doable with some preparation. The dragon would have to land, then leave quickly, as maintaining such would be very taxing," Elysia murmurs to herself as she works out the proper spell.
"Can you make it actually carry you, or do we have to sneak you into position first?" Rosy asks the Bandit Queen.
"It can carry me. I just have to feed it doglin first," Elysia says dryly.
Tristan looks very grave, but he only nods to Hannah. "You've done amazing things, m'lady," he says, quietly.
"That's a terrible thing to say," Rosy whines. "Pet me now!"
Unfortunately for Rosy, it's Lyne that pets her. His hand is bigger than her head.
The doglin frowns at first.. but hey, it's still petting! She calms down soon enough.
But once more smells of cat.
Hannah ahems and looks a little embarrassed. "Well, um, I did have help! Rosy and I lifted it together. We had to crack a crystal open that held the dragon's life essense and it wouldn't respond to any other weapon. Not at first, anyway."
Rosy sighs, and resigns herself to visiting the shaman to get some of his accursed soap..
"She's joking about feeding Rosy to an illusion, right?" Tristan checks with Hannah.
Hannah gives the knight her crooked half-smile. "Possibly."
Tristan makes a face at her. "Contagious, is it?"
"Oh!" Rosy suddenly barks. "I know what to do now! It's the challenge! You just have to alter the stakes a little bit." Tail wagging full-blast now, she says, "See, word it so that if Grizzelda wins, she gets Feezle - but if Elysia wins, she gets Grizzelda! Once the Princess sees her riding in on a dragon.. well, everyone knows what you have to feed them, and Grizzelda is more than a mouthful: even for Valanice.."
Tristan gives Rosy a considering look. "That ... sounds like quite a deterrent to accepting the challenge, indeed."
Elysia even laughs at Rosy's suggestion. "That's not half bad," she admits, "It might work."
"At that point, she might as well ask for the entire city's population as her prize!" Hannah points out. "Dragons do need to eat more than just once to survive, you know." Then to Tristan, she says again, with an even wider smile, "Possibly."
Proud of herself, the Glammer Girl gets up and strikes several poses!
Tristan kisses Hannah's nose. "I'm not sure about this company you've been keeping," he says, moch-chiding. "They seem to be having a bad effect on you." He pauses. " ... possibly on me, too."
"And I'm sure everyone will blame Thomas," Lyne is compelled to add.
"I didn't even know we were allowed to do that!" Rosy says to Lyne, looking shocked. "I was gonna blame everything on Feezle!"
Hannah smiles at the kiss, then turns to the others. "All right, we can certainly play it that way - but then the show is all about Elysia and Feezle. The rest of us wouldn't even need to appear! She could just ride in on her illusion of Valanice with Feezle in tow and say that she captured him. If Grizzelda wants a chance of winning him back, she has to take up Elysia's challenge. We could just simply watch the fireworks from afar."
"Nonsense, I have to be there, for documentation purposes," Minstrel Sam asserts. "Someone has to witness it!"
The old fae adds, "And make a best-seller song about it. It'll get me a million free drinks!"
"I, for one, will be quite willing to watch the fireworks with you, m'lady," Tristan tells Hannah with another smile.
Hannah chuckles at Sam's suggestion. "If you'd like a front-row seat for the festivities, be my guest. Personally, I'd rather avoid another opportunity of having to eat goblin food!"
Hannah smiles back at Tristan and says, "I'd hoped you would say that."
Finally, Peaches goes to the spring and offers Souhait some of her pilfered bread.
Souhait, who has finally stopped shivering and relaxed in the hot water, accepts the offering with an appreciative whicker, and nuzzles at Peaches' neck.