The Estate, Sidra, Glacia, Saturday Evening Fandom Time

[wwiii]

Some days, Warren found himself drowning in paperwork. Some days, he walked into his office to be faced with a stack of petitions to Glacia's Consort that was so high he was pretty sure he would never see the bottom.

Today, incidentally, was not one of those days. He'd run through all of the paperwork on his desk two, three, four times just to be thorough, had even gone so far as to write thank you notes to those Queens and Consorts in other Courts to thank them for their attendance at this official function or that one. Karla was busy elsewhere, his phone battery was dead, and Warren had gotten to that point in the day where all there was to do was sit and pass the time by drumming his fingertips on the top of his desk.

It was fortunate that the Court Steward, Lord Mallory, stuck his head into Warren's office before he could drum some gouges into the wood.

"My Lord," he said, clutching a stack of paperwork to his chest, "Lady Karla would like me to remind you that if you're late for dinner and leave her entertaining alone again, she'll tie you to the General and throw the both of you into a closet."

Warren gave a wry chuckle in response to that, gesturing to his empty desk.

"That shouldn't be an issue. I have a few hours to kill yet, and nothing to kill them with." A beat. "What do you have there?"

Mallory looked at his own stack of papers, and then gave his head a shake, even as Warren pulled himself up from his seat to investigate.

"Nothing of any importance tonight, Lord. Merely the sort of correspondence that I've taken the liberty of separating out from the papers that actually need to make it to your desk."

Warren pursed his lips a little as he leaned over the stack. Considering the one on the top was addressed to, 'That Landen Bastard of a Consort,' he could wager a guess as to what the rest of the stack contained.

"Why not leave those with me anyway? It'll help me kill some time, at least. And I'll get a chance to see where I stand in the eyes of the general public, these days."

Mallory's expression suggested that he didn't think it was one of Warren's better ideas, but he wasn't going to argue with the Consort. He tended to do his damnedest to keep out of the way of Warren's baleful glares as much as possible.

"If you wish, my Lord, but do keep in mind that these letters aren't representative of Glacia's most rational people."

"It'll be just like looking at hashtags on Twitter," Warren replied, smiling faintly as he was met with a puzzled glance from the Steward. "I can handle it."

A few minutes and a few more cautionary statements from Mallory later, and Warren was sitting at his desk again, leafing through the mail with one eyebrow raised. He supposed be probably shouldn't have been surprised that 'Landen Bastard' wasn't the worst insult the locals had come up with, and he even set aside a few letters addressed to Karla that were obviously written with the intent of turning her against him in order to give a 'real Blood male' a chance at his position. They could laugh at them together later. Or, at least, make a mental note between them to laugh behind their backs at social functions.

Not that they were petty.

It was a letter about halfway down the stack that managed to actually grab Warren's attention, all of the rest aside. Written in a childish hand, it was one of the few letters that actually used his name, and though it was from outside of the Territory, there was something about a small child writing to the Consort of Glacia that made it difficult to set aside.

A few minutes later still, and he was stalking out into the hallway again, letter in hand, wings mantled, and bristling.

"Mallory! What the Hell were you thinking!?"

Mallory was not having a good day.

[OOC: For one!]

Comments

[glacial_queen]

"Why aintcha just going in?" Nyles asked from where he was lounging against a Craft-powered streetlamp. "You're Blood. You got Craft. Hell's fire, I could open that door and I only got my Birthright. Why not grab the girl and go?"

...Karla didn't want to admit how much sense that made. Glancing at Warren, she murmured, "The kid has a point."

[wwiii]

"Because I want to get a good look at how this workhouse is run," Warren replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "For a start, if one of the kids goes missing on that man's watch, I want to make sure our break-and-enter doesn't get taken out on him." A beat. "Even if he is a bit of an asshole. For another, we don't know if it'll get taken out on the other kids, either. I'd sooner talk to the person in charge here to make certain something like that doesn't happen."

A beat.

"Besides, if they are mistreating Cora in there, I want to be able to look the man personally responsible for that in the eyes before I castrate him with my bare hands."

...

This was actually, somehow, Warren taking the moral high ground here.

[glacial_queen]

Nyles looked impressed. "He doesn't talk like no landen I ever heard," he noted. "What're you gonna do if that place is as bad as you think? Invite all the kids back to your Territory and offer them jobs in your gardens and stables?"

"I don't think so," Karla cut in swiftly, before Warren could decide that was an excellent idea actually. "First I go to the Queen of the city and throw a temper tantrum. While I'm doing that, Warren flies to Ebon Rih and summons Prince Lucivar. Probably Jaenelle and Uncle Saetan, too. Then, while the Queen here is politely telling me to shut up and mind my Territory's business, they will walk in. I don't think the orphans will have much to worry about after that."

Nyles whistled. "You know, lady, when you wanna cut someone's legs out from under them, you use a pretty big knife."

Karla winked at the boy. "Part of my charm, boyo."

[wwiii]

"One of the many reasons I love her," Warren agreed, smirking. "Tempting as it would be to personally make a home for all of the kids here..."

He shook his head.

"We'd run out of rooms, anyway. And Glacia has almost more war orphans to take care of than we can handle, as it is." Though Raven was certainly putting forth an impressive effort. "Honestly, I'm mostly hoping that the whole aura of 'Dickensian workhouse' that this place is putting off is just a trick of the light, since it's so late. That might just be wishful thinking, though."

[glacial_queen]

"Because any place that farms children out for labor might also be a warm and inviting home for children," Karla snarked. "I bet no one here has ever said 'Please, sir, may I have some more,' either."

Maybe she could make Raven the head of all orphanages in Glacia and let them all conform to her exacting standards. Yes. As soon as they got home, that was what she was doing. And schedule a midnight tour of all the homes in Sidra, like a surprise inspection kind of thing.

"Maybe if we bring you home with us, we'll make you our personal children's home inspector," she mused. "You go into them, scope them out, and then report back to us what they don't want us knowing."

"Lady! You'd send me away to one of them places? After all I done for you?"

Karla snorted. "As if you wouldn't have three ways out scoped not ten minutes after you were sent in. Not counting the ones I can teach you."

Nyles looked intrigued in spite of himself. "Yeah, like what?"

Which was when Karla leaned forward, stuck her hand through Warren's chest, and waved.

"Neat! Can I try?"

"No!" They yelled in unison.

[wwiii]

At least there wasn't any time for Nyles to work up a good argument to that. Unfortunately, that was because the landen male was returning, and his time he had a blustering Blood male in tow. If the orphanage itself had managed to drag Warren and Karla's thoughts straight to Dickens, the man who apparently ran it wasn't much better, dressed in whatever expensive clothing had been at hand when his employee had knocked, most of which was straining to keep a well-fed belly tucked away neatly. Warren managed, by some miracle, to keep from simply laughing outright. Maybe they could have a little warning the next time they stepped right into a copy of Oliver Twist?

"--At all hours of the night, the nerve, the nerve of some people. Why, I have half a mind to--"

Warren stood to greet the man, still wearing that little uptick of a smile. It could almost be mistaken for friendly, if one didn't actually know him.

"Yes, yes, we're aware it's late. But we're here on a matter of utmost importance regarding one of the children that was left here, probably just within the past month."

[glacial_queen]

Karla stood, assuming an imperious expression.

*None of that, my love,* she sent. *Each in its own time. First, we shove Protocol so far down their throats they choke on it. Then we inform them what they can and will do for us.*

She included Nyles in the thread for funsies. He seemed like he'd appreciate the fun.

[wwiii]

Ah, Protocol. Under so many other circumstances, he'd probably at least grumble back about the time of night and the amount of flying he'd done, and how it was too damn late for Protocol. But if Cora's well-being was on the line?

He straightened his posture squared his shoulders, and spread his wings just slightly as the Blood male opened his mouth to give them a piece of his mind. And then he was quite happy to talk right over him.

"Perhaps you're not aware of whose presence you're standing in, and we'll be willing to overlook your unfortunate lack of manners just this once with that in mind. But in the interests of avoiding the same mistake again, allow me to introduce Lady Karla, Territory Queen of Glacia." He paused just long enough to note the look on the faces of the two men before them, and then he pressed on again, barreling one more time over whatever drivel they were about to be subjected to. "I am her Consort, Lord Worthington, and our young associate is Prince Nyles, who has been assisting us in our endeavors."

Once again, there was a moment's pause, and then he raised an eyebrow pointedly.

"And you are?"

Honestly, he was hardly going to accept 'gobsmacked by being faced with a territory Queen' as any sort of excuse for not offering a proper response right off the bat, or even some manner of introduction. Protocol, people! Protocol!

[glacial_queen]

Nyles barely gave the male time to inhale before he was jumping down from his post with a heavy sigh. "Forgive them, my Lord, my Lady," he said, rolling his eyes. "They don't get much in the way of aristocracy down these parts. This is Lord Ferric, the night watchman is Mister Lomb."

Karla glided forward as if she were dressing in a long gown of silk instead of jeans, a sweatshirt, her hair in tangles after a ride on the Winds and another two in Warren's arms. None of that mattered. Ferric, at least, could sense all three of her castes and both of them saw the Ebon-grey hanging from her neck, aglow with an inner fire.

"My Consort is too modest," she said, inclining her head and holding her hands palm-down in front of her. "He neglected to mention that I serve in the First Circle of the Dark Court and he the Second."

Ferric, who had been bringing his hands up to touch palms with hers let them fall back to his sides in shock, prompting Nyles' stage whisper, "You're supposed to touch her palms with yours, my lord! It's Protocol!"

For his part, Lomb just looked happy to have foisted them off onto someone else and was now wondering how soon he could slip away and go back to sleep.

[wwiii]

Okay, now Warren was letting himself smirk faintly. The sheer amount of shock that was practically radiating from Ferric was damn near palpable even to a landen.

"My apologies," Ferric managed, just barely, to choke out as he lifted his hands to Karla's. "It is an honor to serve Glacia's Queen and Consort, doubly so to serve two members of the Dark Court."

It was a miracle he hadn't wet himself yet.

"May I ask what would please my lady?"

[glacial_queen]

"Of course it is," Karla sniffed, snatching her hands away mere seconds after he pressed his palms to hers. "I have a young ward who mistakenly ended up here, a little less than a month ago. This error has only now come to my attention and I wish to see it rectified. Immediately. As you can see, we came with all haste, this should show you how in earnest we are. Bring me my ward and we shall depart at once."

"Your...ward, Lady?" Ferric stuttered, looking confused. "Here? This is a landen institution, my lady. Surely you can't mean--perhaps this rapscallion's led you wrong?" He aimed a cuff at Nyles, who nimbly dodged out of the way.

"Lay a hand on my guide and you shall answer to me," Karla snapped. "And I make no mistake. My ward is within your walls, unless something ill has befallen her." Her cold blue eyes met Ferric's muddy brown ones and promised suffering untold should the child she sought have come to harm. "Cora Hewer. Fetch her to me at once. Unless you'd prefer to escort me within to find her myself?"

[wwiii]

Ferric's answer was a bit more stammered incoherence. Of course he would love to fetch the girl, anything for two members of the Dark Court, no need to trouble themselves, right away, right away...

Warren stopped him mid-babble.

"If I may, my Lady," he offered, spreading his wings a little more so that once again he looked slightly larger than he was, especially there in the dark, silhouetted by the streetlights. "I would accompany Lord Ferric inside, so that there's no confusion as to which of the children we're here for."

Ferric looked as though he'd just swallowed nails.

[glacial_queen]

"An excellent idea, my love." Karla almost purred her agreement, her eyes on Ferric's suddenly sweating form. "It would be best if Cora woke up to a familiar face. We'd hate to miss a single moment of her reaction to discovering we're here."

Her smile showed a lot of teeth. "Well, Lord Ferric? What are you waiting for? Escort my Consort to my ward."

[wwiii]

Warren merely stood patiently while Ferric attempted to backtrack, making a whole lot of noise but not actually managing to say anything.

And then he crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow.

"If I didn't know any better, Lord Ferric, I'd be concerned that you were stalling for time while attempting to come up with a good reason to not let me inside. As my Queen has already stated, this is a matter of utmost urgency, and we have little patience for anybody who might keep us from our ward."

He glanced at Karla, raising one eyebrow.

"It would be unfortunate if we were kept waiting long enough to start wondering if perhaps some of Lord Ferric's business practices were in any way less than ethical and the children were seeing anything less than the best possible care."

Ferric swallowed, and then walked almost woodenly forward, reaching to open the door.

"Of course. Of course, business is, of course... ethical... best care... of course, this way..."

Warren didn't even feel bad for leaving the man looking so shellshocked, no.

[had-a-birdie.livejournal.com]

Fortunately for everyone involved, the landen orphanage didn't live up (or possibly down) to their worse fears. It was no Briarwood, for one, no little girls in lingerie being posed for special clients. It wasn't even terribly Dickensian--no rats, no large spiders, no crying emaciated children in corners.

That wasn't to say that it was a terribly bright, cheerful place, either. It was scrupulously clean, at least, but also very poor, which contrasted sharply with Ferric's wardrobe and well-rounded gut.

Mostly, though, it was bleak. Gray stone walls with nothing to brighten them up. A few toys, old and bedraggled, and several books that were yellowed with age. They passed a school room filled with hard-looking desks and slates, chalk dust thick in the air. All the windows were high up, enough to let in a little light, but no air.

Ferric led Warren to the girl's dormitory, which he unlocked with a large brass key. Inside were long rows of small beds, covered with thin blankets and even thinner mattresses. The littlest girls slept closest to the door, several girls around three or four who clung to dolls made of rags. "Younger than three sleep in the nursery," Ferric explained in a whisper.

Another landen women dressed in dark clothes with a pale apron and cap made her way over to them. "This is the night nurse," Ferric continued as she curtsied to them. "She stays with the girls all night in case they need something. She also has a key, to make sure that if something happens, the girls can get out." Turning back to the nurse, Ferric instructed her to escort Lord Worthington to 'Cara Huburt.'

The nurse led Warren way to the back the the large room--closer to an enclosed hall than an actual room--to where the older girls were sleeping. There, face tight even in sleep, with dark circles under her eyes to match the dark curls on her head, was Cora.

[wwiii]

"Oh, Cora," Warren murmured as he laid eyes on the girl. The entire walk through the orphanage had been a study in disparity, listening to the explanations almost halfheartedly as they made their way through the halls. His heart broke a little more when he saw her laying in bed, and anything else that was said to him by the nurse fell on deaf ears as he walked forward and fell into a crouch at Cora's side. "Cora, I'm so sorry we didn't come sooner..."

He reached to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face, and then tenderly stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

"So, so sorry."

[had-a-birdie.livejournal.com]

"Mommy?" Cora's voice had deepened, gone was the childish reediness of the past. A small cut marred her cheek, more than half-healed by now. "Mommy?"

Her eyes fluttered open and she focused on Warren. "Oh," she mumbled. "'M still dreaming."

[wwiii]

Warren's brow creased a little as he noticed the cut. He'd ask Cora about it later. For now, he was simply shaking his head. Everything worth mentioning in this moment was the here and the now.

"No," he replied, gently. "You're awake, I promise. Karla and I came to get you."

His eyes fell down to the floor momentarily. It was all he could do to keep from begging her for forgiveness for taking so long to come for her.

"We came the moment we got your letter."

[had-a-birdie.livejournal.com]

"Warren?" Cora shot upright in her bed. "Warren, it's you! You came for me! I knew you would!" She leaned forward to wrap her arms around whatever parts of him she could reach, ignoring the nurse's aborted attempt to stop her. "You said Lady Karla's here, too? Have you come to take me back to my house?"

[wwiii]

Warren was going to cling for all he was worth. If there was any doubt as to his friendship with the little girl, it was easily wiped away by the hug, all arms and wings and shut-up-he-wasn't-tearing-up-at-all.

"Karla is waiting outside," he murmured. "Your house is empty, but we have a place for you in our own family in Glacia, if you'll have us."

Because he couldn't offer any less. Not to Cora.

[had-a-birdie.livejournal.com]

"Live with you? Like a princess in one of your stories?" Cora asked, shoving the blankets aside so she could jump out of bed. Her nightgown was clean and serviceable, though washed to the point that no trace of color remained. It was also too short for her, showing several inches of bony wrist and skinny legs. "Leave here forever?"

Her smile faltered a moment. "My mother's buried not far from here. If I leave, will I be a bad daughter?"

[wwiii]

First thing Warren was going to do when getting Cora back to Glacia was call Cook and panic at her a little bit. Well. Maybe the second or third or fourth thing, after getting Cora settled in.

He reached for her hands, still in his crouch on the floor, and looked up at her with as reassuring a look on his face as he could possibly muster.

"We'll visit," he promised, gently. "So long as you don't forget her, you can be a princess and a good daughter, I promise."

[had-a-birdie.livejournal.com]

Cora slid her hand into his. "Then can we go? I hate Doun." It was where her mother died and her aunt had sent her here and she'd had to work all day and dinner was usually thin vegetable soup and crusty bread.

In short, it was a the worst.

The nurse looked like she was going to protest for a moment and then decided that interfering with the Blood was far beyond her paygrade.

[wwiii]

"Of course," Warren murmured, giving her hand a squeeze. "Is there anything you need to get before we go?"

Any keepsakes? Something to remember her mother by, maybe?

... Clothes?

[had-a-birdie.livejournal.com]

"I swallowed mother's ring," Cora said flatly. "Cause they take our stuff away when we arrive so we're all equal and stuff and I didn't wanna lose her ring. Plus, sometimes the bigger boys will take things. So I swallowed it."

And kept swallowing it, every time it reappeared.

The things you did, while waiting for your rescuers that you lost a little more faith in every day that came and went without them.