(1866-10-05) A Sister's Concerns
A Sister's Concerns
Summary: Raelyn goes to have a little chat with Lon concerning her sister.
Date: 10/5/1866
Related: A Sister's Worry, Seeking Approval
Lon  Raelyn  

An Inn Room in the city of Iron March, in the County of Ironhold
See Above and in-scene
Octobre 5, 1866 IA

Back in Ironhold. Lon the Elder did not travel directly with Raelyn and Emilia and the other Noble Cassomirs. Oh, he traveled on the Cassomir "ticket" as it were, but among the common folk that comprised their entourage, and thus his return trip was not for several hours after Emilia and Raelyn's return. He feigned Gate Sickness and made his way back to the Inn, where he soon had no pretense towards feigning, as those within didn't really know where he'd gone, nor overmuch care. He's greeted friendly enough, and as is his way, returns to his room and begins unpacking the satchel he took with him. Just some odds and ends and extra clothing…including the more fine clothing Devlin had provided. No sense putting on airs and whatnot. They'd only ask more questions.

Lon, likely, had been keen enough to notice Raelyn keeping an odd sort of eye on him. Not 'watching', so to speak. More, perhaps, assessing. Surmising. Outwardly though, Raelyn had seemed to have nothing on her mind, talking with Emilia here and there, or telling stories about (and to) Adrienne, and the like. But, several hours after the company had returned, Raelyn would take a hint from her sister, and sneak away to Lon's Inn where she politely rapped at the door a few times. It was time to have The Talk.

"The door is unlocked." Lon calls out, able to smell who awaits on the other side. No doubt attracting attention again…people notice when the Mistress is out and about. Just like they noticed her brother when he was fetched a while ago. He might have to find a new Inn, even if folks here do seem to mostly mind their business. Lon turns about, facing the door as Raelyn enters. "Not much for hospitality here, but be welcome."

"Thank you," evokes Raelyn before closing the door behind her. She looks out, and as if reading Lon's thoughts, she tells him simply, "They think I'm questioning you about some horse thieves that have been bothering folk." Afternall, she doesn't want to draw attention to Lon, either. Even if he is … doing what he's doing, she's still fond of the man. Mostly.
Her lips flatten, then, and she stays where she is, by the door. Unconsciously blocking it. It's a pattern she's formed when she wants to interrogate someone that she's completely unaware of. "Do you respect me, Lon?" She asks, not bothering with any pleasantries. Then again, Raelyn never did like beating around the bush too much, unless she had to.

"You are skilled. Strong. You have the love and loyalty of your pack. Why should I not respect you?" Lon doesn't seem put off by the question, but then again he sometimes doesn't pick up on all the human social cues. "If I did not have respect for you, for your position, for your courage, I would not have placed my life in your hands when first we met." He cants his head, sniffing a bit and noting, "You are troubled."

"Yes. I am troubled," agrees Raelyn, matter-of-factly, and not shifting an inch from her position. She nods to the words given, an affirmation of thoughts she already had. "My sister," Raelyn begins, quietly, "Recently confided to me that she had someone who was infactuated with her. This, as you can guess, pleased me. I would not wish to see my sister alone. And would wish her to be happy." Raelyn, on the other hand, does not look particularly happy as she's retelling this particularly … stoic … story. "I was disappointed that she would not reveal this gentleman to me who had captured her fancy. But, I did not press my sister. As I love her. And, trust her."
There is a pause, so Lon can feel the weight dropping into the pool. "She did not reveal him to me, until I percieved the truth of it, and confronted her with my observations." Arms fold across her chest. She waits. As if for explanation. But, to her credit, she is not stabbing, threatning, or telling Lon to back off. She's not happy, no. Not by any means. But neither is she furious.

"Hm." Lon replies, neither frowning nor grimacing, simply looking thoughtful, "Perhaps I should not have granted the favor. But to do so would not have been truthful with her." He nods, "Yes, it is I." He moves to sit down on the side of the bed, gesturing towards the single chair present, "A surprise for both she and I, I think. Certainly not my intent in coming here, but it has occurred, and I am not ashamed." He adds, "To hide this was not out of lack of respect, but out of concern that others would not understand. Or perhaps would react in haste."

Raelyn does not immediately take the offered seat. She waits a few long moments, but eventually relenquishes her position by the door. "So she said." Raelyn, usually not the stoic Cassomir, is embodying all of her family heritage in this rather delicate moment. "Very well. I do believe you. But now, what are your intentions?" Protective, much? Something, perhaps, Lon can understand. The Cassomirs do have a 'pack mentality' about protecting family, after all. And there is an entire conversation, an entire series, a multitude of questions in that one question. Lon's perceptive enough to sense some of them. His timelessness. Her mortality. His not being found out. Her sister's happiness.

"A simple question that lacks a simple answer." Lon replies, "I intend to continue her lessons, no matter what the state of relations between us may be. I am ageless, and she is mortal. If you worry I will bore of her, I could live the span of her life ten times over and still recall her as though it were for you what would be but a day and a night." He tilts his head, "If she tires of me, or finds a mortal companion that better suits her or brings her happiness and contentment, then I will step aside." He shakes his head, "I will not say these things are the same for you and I. We feel as deeply as any, but we do so without the attachment that mortals so often carry with such feelings. If there is one certainty that immortality brings, it is the knowledge that all things end. I suppose even me, someday. We accept it and move on. Whether that end comes sooner or much later is in her hands."

Raelyn, again, is quiet, for a length of time, before she nods. "I believe you," she says at last. "And I am glad it is not something else." Like some Changeling game. Or need. "There is nothing further I can say that you can't already guess." Like how much she loves her sister. Their bond. "But there is one more question. Your kind. Are they." She pauses, this a question even she can't quite bring herself to ask, forthrightly. "Compatible?" She ventures on, lips pressing. It wouldn't do, afterall, for Emilia to have little Changeling Babies running around gnawing on ankles, should it ever come to that.

"No. There have been legends that claim otherwise, but they are false." Lon answers simply enough. "She'll have no pups from me." The Changeling reassures. "Know that the bond we share also means I am a protector as well as companion. I cannot be with her always, but between you, her other family, and myself…she is well-protected from the threats without. Now it is only to deal with those within, and for that, the lessons continue." He pauses, "I suppose I should show you…."

"Show me?" Raelyn drops the stoic mein for a mild look of uncertainty. And then, that is followed by a frown, after the brief sense of relief that her sister will not bear half-breed things that will cause more questions than anything. "Show me what?"

"I wear the face of age because it better reflects my experience. Because people ask fewer questions of the aged being alone, less likelihood of village matrons attempting to arrange marriage with their daughters for the woodsman on the edge of the village." Lon smirks just a touch at that, "But age does not touch my true form." And with that, Lon….shifts. Not so dramatically as becoming a great wolf-man, but he does grow a couple of inches now that age doesn't stoop his shoulders. The beard recedes along with the lines of his face, leaving behind a countenance and form that is the picture of one's physical prime. While exact age would be difficult to guess, no more than 30 at most would be where most lie. Youthful….and rather handsome, at that.

Raelyn has been taken surprise a few times, since getting 'educated' on some of the truths of the land she lives in. And one of these times is now. Sure, she knew Lon had some power. But this? Well. She'd never thought about it. Never expected it. She stares, dumbfounded for a little bit, then clears her throat. "That," she conceeds some, wryly, "Explains a little of it. Yes." She was wondering how her sister had fallen for the old, bearded, if not affable Lon.

"Does it?" Lon chuckles, "In the elder days, I could take many forms. Even the faces of many men. Or even women, if I chose, though I suppose I must be thought of as male, as it never felt quite right to do so." He shrugs a shoulder, "The legends of Doppelgangers and the like hold some truth to them. But much of the old magic has left the world, and with it, much of the old abilities wane. Only a few forms now. And only one face, though I can mold it to a degree where age and weathering are concerned." He smiles, even with some genuine warmth, "But do not take this waning as an ill tiding. It is only a sign that the old Chaos has fled much of the world. Perhaps one day even my agelessness will leave me."

"I … appreciate you revealing this truth to me, Lon." And in truth, if such was his intent, it's softened her a little towards her hard feelings at this - well, whatever it is. "And I am glad you are not lessened for it, though perhaps a part of me may have wished to see your world, when it was as you've told it." There is the briefest of honest, sincere smiles. She exhales, then moves to stand, "I will not linger longer, as to do so would be draw more interest. Just - remember, she is my sister." A pointed look. Changeling, or no, Raelyn would be damned if any man hurt her little sister purposefully.

"Of course." Lon replies, and age once again settles on his form. A bit eerie to watch, no doubt, but he doesn't seem quite mindful of that fact. "Be well, Lady Raelyn. I am sure I will see you again soon. And should you wish to speak of these things further, I will not be hard to find."


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