What's White, Sticky, and Delicious? [Finn]

[Hilana Chenzira]

23 Frost, Year 112

[Closed - Finn]

Upon learning at the Temple on the eve of the autumnal equinox that Arvaelyn had been a fan of marshmallows, Hilana had endeavoured to set aside some time to make them for him. Sometimes things got busy, and when she had mentioned her idea to Finn to make sure she was not barking up the wrong tree with his Amatus, she had been glad to accept his offer of help. Making marshmallows was a laborious process, and Finn was plenty strong. Hilana was also used to such efforts between her work and her upbringing, and between the two of them, they would have the confection whipped in no time.

It was a recipe she had learned from one of the kitchen slaves in her father’s estate at home during her time in Tertium, someone who had been a Peregrinus from far across the sea... until he owed too much money to multiple people. When he couldn't pay his debts, her father had, though his own reasons for doing so were less than altruistic. From there, he ended up at Lebaoth’s estate, and he worked in the kitchens. Hilana had enjoyed watching him from time to time, not that she was regularly supposed to be in there, what with it being beneath her station as per her father and aunt. But sometimes... the girl liked to learn, and given the opportunity would whisk away or stir at something for hours and learn about the recipes he had brought with him from overseas.

While she was waiting for Finn to arrive, she set everything out in the small kitchen of her airy apartment. The cane sugar, the agave syrup, gelatine sheets, powdered starch, powdered sugar, salt, vanilla, and a number of extracts. Mint, peppermint, cinnamon, rose, orange, almond, and lemon. She wasn’t certain which amongst them Arvaelyn would enjoy the most, but she trusted Finn to know his Amatus’ tastes. Also set out were a number of well-used metal pans, spatulas, whisks, different mixing bowls, and butter. She figured she had enough on hand to do a fairly substantial batch, and then they could go into the smaller bowls and then pan once they were individually flavoured and left to set.

Now that her kitchen was ready and set up, Hilana checked around to make sure she had what she needed for proper hostessing. Hibiscus iced tea was chilling in the refrigerator. She had a baked rice dish with chicken in the oven that she had cooked up earlier and let it cool, but could be reheated for after because Founders knew they would need it later when all of this work was done. But they’d have downtime, too, while the marshmallow set, and inasmuch as she had hated Tertium, she knew what was expected. Beyond that, Finn was always welcome to her fire, no matter where she had it ablaze.

[Finn]

Finn had always anticipated spending more time with Hilana. In many ways, she was a touchstone for him in Solunarium. She was human, and while she came from more monied stock than he did, she didn't swan about with noble airs. She was intelligent, knowledgeable, and kind; the last helped him work his way through the relative morality of Solunarium compared to what he had grown up with, which was important given the Dragon Prince of Solunarium was his amatus, and he was Arvælyn's conscience. That was suddenly a much heavier burden; he could make life better for people politically rather than just uplift them with his art. Finn just didn't want to fuck it up.

When her message came with news that she planned to make marshmallows, he laughed. They had been talking about it for seasons, and while Arvælyn had surely forgotten about it, Hilana had not. Finn had supplied her with marsh mallow whenever he saw her, and so now the long-standing joke would at least be an excuse to spend time together.

Having a mode of travel that allowed him to pass unseen, he didn't bother with his usual Sentinel black. The door to her apartment shimmered suddenly as he brought things into alignment, and then he simply stepped across the threshold from the palace in the Umbrium to her place in the Luxium. The loose poet's shirt was Kalzasern, a remnant of his old wardrobe, and the kilted skirt was of local cut, though nothing was appropriate for his station as bard and amatus to a prince, subvigil and chosen of Aværys. He wore no makeup, no jewelry, and yet there seemed to be a moment when people saw him anymore where they didn't know whether to admire or cower. Majesty made people inclined to love him or fear him, and he was only beginning to have some control over that.

"Salve, Hilana," he said. "I hope you have an extra apron. The servi look horrified when I ask for things like that."

[Hilana Chenzira]

Her family had money, and while Hilana worked pretty much constantly and was considered skilled by any stretch and was likely well-paid, it was hard to see what she did with any of it beyond stashing it away. The most she seemed to do was add to her poisonous snake collection, her plants - there were always a few new ones every time he visited - and a growing shelf of books and tomes on magic. It wasn’t a fancy apartment or particularly luxurious beyond the fact that she had a second bedroom when she was the only one that lived there, and that had ended up becoming a snake room. He’d seen that one often enough because he had had to Mesmer the 22 venomous snakes contained within so that Hilana could milk them for venom for various projects. Mostly for antivenin, she had said, but she certainly made poisons with them, too. But it was certainly better to have a poisoner on one’s side than not, especially in a place like this. But despite that, she was still a healer and a solid teacher as she went. While it was trickier for the two of them to go out and about on lessons beyond the walls of the city since Kaladon - and Finn could tell at a glance from using Mesmer how much that irked her while she did her best not to show it - lessons continued when and where they could.

When he traversed his way inside her apartment, she turned and smiled to see him, coming towards him as he made his way to the kitchen. He may have chosen not to dress for his station, but aside from special events in which a higher style of clothing was demanded, like the ball or the jubilee… Hilana never did, and the times he had seen her in garb fit for her caste could be counted on one hand. She was always in one of her colourful skirts and a plainer, usually shorter and sleeveless, shirt. Today was more of the same, though the tiers were cut on a topsy-turvy angle, making the patterns of the flamboyantly colourful tiers stand out even more as she hugged him. The fact that he had been blessed with Majesty changed little for her; she already adored him as it was. He, and his Amatus, were pack.

“Salve, Finn, how are you?” She looked up at him with her beaming smile. “I do have an extra apron for you, come,” the Vastiana squeezed his hand and brought him in the rest of the way to the kitchen. She had everything lined up for them, it seemed, between the table and counters. Bowls, pans, ingredients… they were going to be busy. She offered him one of the linen aprons from the cupboard. It was a strange style with the straps across the back, but large enough for him to duck into and have no problems with considering he was larger and sturdier than she was, but she put on one of a similar style. “How are things with Arvaelyn in the Umbrium? Would you like some hibiscus tea before we start?” She offered him a drink, going to the icebox to pull the jug if he wanted some. Tiaz was hanging out on a driftwood stand on the table, out of the way but close enough to watch everything. Risdra, however, came to investigate him. The big cat, certainly the size of a medium-sized dog, wound her way around his legs and rubbed her head against his calves, meowing loudly for attention and pets.

[Finn]

"Lost in the desert per usual," he admitted with a laugh, returning her hug with a bear-like variety. Finn knew Hilana could comport herself in high society, but he was glad they could shuck all that off in private. He followed her into the kitchen, and accepted the apron with his thanks, though he through it over his shoulder when the cat came cuddling.

"I suppose tea would be nice while I give the animals their due. Don't want to get fur in the mix." He crouched down to give Risdra some attention, letting her headbutt his hands, giving scratches, and offering her a way up into his arms if she wanted to be held for a bit. Whether it was Mesmer, Majesty, or just animal magnetism, her animals seemed to have taken to him. He had learned to milk the cow, feed the chickens, and the like before he had Rune or Emblem, anyway.

"It's certainly cooler in the Umbrium, but now Arvælyn is more important so..." He shrugged. She knew. Between the Sentinels and the royals, he had less time to spare his friendships, but he was here now, at least. "Went spelunking on the 5th, had a bath with Deus Aværys and Vrædyn Princeps on the 20th, and just last night attended a party in Arvælyn's honor... all of this is so far outside my wheelhouse... hence lost in the desert. But I'm surviving... the Sentinels certainly keep me from getting fat and lazy the way someone in my position might in Kalzasi. In a lot of ways, it seems as though the world is open to me, but I'm still a baseborn country boy. Always waiting for the other satin slipper to fall and ruin my life."

He laughed, though, so he had a sense of humor about it.

"How about you? Not bound in marriage to an old man yet?"

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana burrowed into Finn’s hug when she got it, hugging him tightly in return. She was always a physically affectionate person, and since the Mesminstrel didn’t mind, the girl was more than happy to take advantage of those hugs. If she could get away with it with her friends, and it wasn’t publicly inappropriate, she was always down for more. He was built just right for those hugs, after all. But she raised an eyebrow when he said that he was lost in the desert, but she trusted that he would tell her about it.

“They’d like that,” the girl chuckled, getting out the jug of chilled, fruity tea, and two cups from the cupboard. She poured them, and as she did, Risdra was more than happy to be lifted. Whatever Hilana fed that cat, she did well, because she was heavier than she looked. The time in the city hadn’t softened the older queen, especially since Hilana still took her for walks sometimes, too, and down into the stables to hunt for prey. She was soon purring quite loudly from Finn’s arms, rubbing her head against him, her bright eyes on him. Whatever it was, Risdra was smitten.

She did listen as he talked. Hilana did know. And she hadn’t hardly seen them, either of them, aside from Raithen, since the Jubilee in which she had pretended to be concubine to Prince Phocion to get access to the fancy VIP box in which to watch the show. To be fair, their life was primarily in the Umbrium now, whereas Hilana primarily remained above unless she had lessons or study sessions or errands down below. And while she didn’t like it... it was also just the way things worked out, for better or for worse. But she did miss her friends. But with Arry being a crown prince of the realm now, well...

She passed him the cup of hibiscus iced tea, setting it on the table for him to take as he was ready for it with the large cat demanding his love. This, he knew, was a Vastian specialty, and one of Hilana’s favourites. It was nicely balanced between sweet and tart, refreshing, and it certainly helped with the heat of the upper city that was claimed by the old battle axe that was Cithaera’s cousin. But her eyebrows definitely went up when he said that he had had a bath with His Divine Radiance and Prince Vraedyn. He was here? That pleased her. Perhaps she could take her mask and go hunt something with Hayima’el and offer it in sacrifice. Perhaps he could shed some light on this situation between the Solar Sovereign and the Crownwyrm. Hilana had her share of guilt about it; if only because for all of her life, the Crown of Solunarium was intertwined with the Founders. But her friends, almost all of them, had pledged to the Crownwyrm of the Umbrian Court. "How did that go? What did you make of Prince Vraedyn?" she was curious.

“No, thankfully, not yet. I did get a letter from my father to tell me he was shocked and somewhat appalled by the fact that I got an invitation to the Aurisian Ball, and further, that I actually went. My old pack delivered some of my clothes from Tertium with that letter, too, so he’s up to something,” she shook her head and had a drink of her cold tea, getting out a couple honey cookies for them to eat as well before they got into the marshmallow. “Founders know what. Might be just dinners with the Consul and his family... but whoever he has watching me is running their mouths to him." She leaned against the counter, resting her palms on it, thoughtful. "If I need him to, Raithen will probably make a claim over me to thwart my father. ‘Virtuous Hungers’, as His Divine Radiance called them when I met Them. Or maybe Prince Phocion might, who knows. That was why I was in the box at the Jubilee,” she chuckled. “They told me to just pretend to be Prince Phocion’s concubine. Let people assume, anyway."

That made her eyes dance as she grinned at him. Hilana could restrain herself around Arvaelyn's family, and from her behaviour around them on the trip to Kaladon, she had been well-behaved and much more quieter than she ever was. But Finn, Arvaelyn, and Raithen knew the girl far better. And for someone who was around Phocion and Hilana as much as Finn was... he could probably see the humour in that idea of a pairing. "You did an incredible job on that stage, you know. None of the other presentations compared.”

[Finn]

Once he could transfer the cat's weight to one arm, he reached out with his other hand for the tea, taking an appreciative sip.

"Thank you. Oh—" He flushed slightly at the question. The invitation from Vrædyn had mentioned discussing the realities of being marked by Aværys; he hadn't expected the god to be there and for the three of them to sit close in hot water all the while. Casual nudity didn't faze him. After all, he had grown up jumping naked into the lake with the other children in the village, and that hadn't ended with puberty. Still and all, nothing felt quite casual in Solunarium, especially the higher the rank and power of the people involved.

"The prince and I will likely be collaborating on things in the interests of the God, but the God Himself... He is strangely familiar with us. I don't have a great deal of experience with all of this. I knew Talon before he ascended, and some after. Now I've been chosen by a God Who remembers His previous incarnations and is fully in His power. It is different. For all that I'm a bard, I haven't the words to articulate it yet. But He blocked Talon from marking me as well. So I don't suppose I will ever become an avatar of the Goddess of Song." A half-smile twitched his lips, but it was bittersweet. He hadn't truly intended to bargain for an emblem when he took the instrument to Ecith, but he had daydreamed about it. Perhaps the power and favor he had sought in his daydreams were what Aværys offered, though.

"Mysterious ways... Anyway, I am hoping to collaborate with Vrædyn and make peace between him and Arvælyn. There is friction between the two royal houses and... well, I just want to keep my amatus safe from those titanic forces if I have any ability to do so... I am used to laying low, playing nice, so the highborn don't crush my common life underfoot as though I were an ant. But it would seem my fate was not to blend in forever."

Finn laughed at her shenanigans.

"Well, keep me abreast of all that. We might end up concubines-in-law or something. Lounging around in the same harem." He kept it to himself that Hilana would look good in harem pants. He hated how jealous Arvælyn got, but he knew it was seated in his childhood trauma, never being able to count on anyone or anything. It put Finn in a precarious position, and he hoped things got better in that regard, but regardless, he had come across the world with his lover and he wasn't going to quit on him now.

"And oh... thank you. I actually find the performance the easiest part of things. I disappear into the music and don't have to worry about how to react to such-and-such a person or what not to say to that other person. Court is exhausting. I wish I could just sit in the volcano with the dragons sometimes. But... the flesh is weak."

After the cat had her fill of nuzzling under his chin, he set her down to stretch her legs, and with no other animals making a beeline for him, he took another sip of tea and put the apron on. They could make the confections while talking.

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana’s big dark eyes were on him as he explained, and her head tilted. This was very interesting. She was somewhat surprised that Prince Vraedyn had reached out to Finn, considering how he was connected to House Phaedryn... or, well, Zalkyrion now... but since His Divine Radiance was in attendance... perhaps that was at his behest. She did seem skeptical. When he talked of bridging the divide between Vlahos and Phaedryn... she shook her head. “That is a gaping chasm bigger and deeper than Kaladon itself. I would think you are privy to more details than I am... but perhaps Prince Vraedyn is more pragmatic than his grandmother. There is too much bad blood there, between Princess Cithaera and the Solar Sovereign. That will never heal, especially after what happened at the Jubilee. But you are not wrong. I was told to stay out of sight and keep a low profile when I came to the capital. That it is dangerous to attract the attention of Elves, be they noble or royal. It is nothing for them to crush us.”

But at that bittersweet smile, the girl offered an encouraging one of her own, and lightly pushed herself off of the counter, her skirts swishing as she closed the short distance between them. She didn’t have to be a Mesmer to understand that the fact he had perhaps been cut off from the rest of the divine pantheon was perhaps a bit upsetting to him, especially since he was not a citizen nor a follower of Varvaerynism. He was perfectly within his rights to worship as he saw fit. She nibbled on her bottom lip and considered, setting her tea aside. “Who is Talon?” she inquired. “Is that another one of Daemon’s names?” That was an interesting development - Hilana was, if anything, a true believer... and she wasn't cursing his name or at all upset about it. If anything, her Symphony indicated she quite liked Daemon.

It was a shot in the dark, but Hilana elected to take a guess. If it wasn’t and it was another, then she could find out what other deities Finn knew.

“For what my opinion is worth... you already are an Avatar of Song,” she patted his arm as he put his apron on. “The dedication and love that you have for your craft, your creativity, your passion... Your music reaches people in ways that most never could, even if they had the lifespan of dragons. Emblem or no Emblem from Syren... what you do is special. It is profound and magical, Finn. But perhaps if you talked to His Divine Radiance about it... just you and Him... in terms of how being marked by Syren might help you further His goals... He might make an exception,” Hilana offered. She could well guess that Finn might not, well, be a big fan of those goals, especially if they involved conquest. Then again... who knew what They had planned? But what she did know was that she wasn’t to ask what the Gods could do for her, but what she could do for her Gods. It was surely different beyond Solunarium, but perhaps that approach might help him.

Then again, she already knew that the Founders were possessive of their people: the fact that other gods were ignored and unacknowledged, and to recognize them or offer their devotion was a form of blasphemy in Varvaerynism. This was a big ask, maybe, but perhaps there was no harm in asking.

“That I will,” she grinned at him. That was at least a more cheerful topic. “We’ll see what happens come Glade. I’ve got the Derby, and Hayima’el and I are going to run if it’s the last thing I do,” she raised a finger dramatically, looking dead serious, only to start laughing. “But no, that may very well be the way it goes. The concubines of House Phaedryn. Well, Phaedryn for me, Zalkyrion for you. Are they keeping you busy with the Court business?” she looked sympathetic at that. Hilana much preferred the shop or the sands, or even cleaning Hayima’el’s stall, to any such nonsense in that regard. Risdra wove herself around his legs for a few more moments once he set her down before getting herself a drink and heading off to go sunbathe in the living room.

“Do you know what flavours Arvaelyn would be most partial to?” Hilana wanted to know as she lined up the extracts for Finn to look over. If there were any that his Amatus wasn’t going to like, better to know now rather than later when they were trying to work them into bowls. Marshmallow was not necessarily the most forgiving candy one could make, but Hilana had faith in the two of them. “I got a number of them since I know he likes most things, but you know him best. I got us mint, peppermint, cinnamon, rose, orange, almond, and lemon,” she let him decide whichever ones wouldn't make the cut there there as she added some cold water to one of the mixing bowls from the faucet before dropping in the gelatine sheets to them to start the blooming process. From there, they could consult the small notebook that she propped up on the wooden stand on the counter. It was, perhaps surprisingly, written in common, and well-loved, to judge by the marks that were on the page. The recipe already made a substantial amount, and Hilana figured they could just triple it. That way, there would be loads of gooey goodness for them to enjoy.

With the flavours picked out, she would set him to using the scale and a bowl to measure out the amount of agave syrup that they would need while she got the water and salt, and it could start cooking on the stove.

[Finn]

"Deus Aværys said Vrædyn and I are... superior. Our goals ought to be moonshots, no?" He grinned, but he took her words into consideration. After so long here, he had picked up a fair amount of context, but that wasn't the same as being born and bred of the Atraxian sands. And if he had learned anything from the Sol'Miaren histories, generational trauma would only continue unless the chain was broken. He wondered if Varvara would hate that metaphor.

"Aye, Talon was the name Dæmon was born to," he averred. "He saved me from the ire of a drunken noble once... I had won at cards, my head came too high and he wanted to lop it off. He was a good man. I hope he will be a good Drægir. Perhaps he and the Twins will have a changed relationship this time around."

Finn flushed at the compliments. He didn't have his game face on in the privacy of a friend's home. And he helped where he could in the process of confection-making.

"Oh, I have to attend more parties than I would like to. It would be one thing if I was just providing entertainment, but I have to talk to people. But... if Arvælyn has to be there, at least I can be there to make sure nobody fucks with him."

They settled on the lot of flavors, variety being the spice of life. He would let Arvælyn sample them all, and whatever he didn't finish—well, there were young servi who didn't mind taking treats and baubles from Finn's hands when their elders weren't around to clutch their pearls when the magnatus didn't maintain proper decorum. Finn didn't want to play the role waking and sleeping, though, so he found little ways to be human and himself when they afforded themselves. The children might not always have such benificent masters, but even servi deserved human kindness and respect.

That was certainly something to strive for with the power that had been given him.

[Hilana Chenzira]

When he grinned at her and said that their goals should be moonshots… Hilana had to agree. “He favours those with ambitious goals. Make them lofty, and then work for them. You can achieve them. I’m sure of it.” The Vastiana was always supportive of her friends where she could be, steadfast and encouraging, and now was no exception. His Divine Radiance had approved of towering, ambitious dreams. He had seemingly liked her answer when they had made the pilgrimage the season prior, when Varvara Imperatrix had asked her what her dreams were. Finding a bridge between the next generations would be a grand goal indeed. “Either way, no harm in trying. They asked me what my ambitions were, and They’ve charged me with finding the Zalkyrian Horn. It’s a step towards achieving one of them."

When he confirmed Talon was Daemon, the girl nodded. That did make sense. That he had saved Finn at some point before made sense. He had a keen instinct, perhaps, to be positioned where he could help people. “I met him and his husband earlier in the season. They seem to be enjoying themselves here. So I would think that they do have a changed relationship now… because if he was on poor terms with Them, They would not entertain his presence. He saved me from a number of shadow creatures when I went out to gather some supplies,” Hilana admitted. Which meant that whatever mage was meant to accompany her outside the city was either slacking in their abilities or she had gone off on her own and hoped to the Gods that she would be able to avoid the creatures. Her Symphony did at least indicate that she had been diligently at work at her abilities with Elementalism, and what had been a rather simple, molten gold outline of a sun on her palm the last time he had seen it had become more ornate, as if in tribute to the Divine entity that had gifted it to her. But whatever she was able to do with it when she had met Talon and Aoren must not have been much in the way of self-defense. “I quite liked them,” she admitted. “They were good company and excellent teachers. I’ll bribe them into visiting again another day,” Hilana was smiling.

With the syrup mixture on the stovetop cooking in the large pot, she let it be for a bit, explaining the steps and reasoning behind them, much like she would in the Sands. But these confections were hardly something one found much of out here, which indicated she may have learned how to do this one from another Peregrinus. She showed him how to test the temperature of the sugar syrup as it cooked, explaining the different stages by how it reacted in cold water. Once they got to the firm ball stage, as she called it, the marshmallow was pulled from the stove, and the next steps were started. This was apparently a process that took an awful lot of beating, and it was his time to shine with the whisk, stirring slow and steady as Hilana carefully poured the hot mixture down the side of the massive mixing bowl that wouldn’t have looked out of place cooking for a feast. The whole point of this was to get the air in and blend the gelatine and sugars and syrups together now.

“That can be tricky, isn’t it?“ the Vastiana was sympathetic. She didn’t have that problem - Hilana could and would talk from sundown to sunup, and vice versa, if given the opportunity and the audience. But she did it all day with customers and people that she met in the market. His stakes were much higher, because the status of the people he had to deal with was quite a bit higher. She herself tended to be more careful than not in the presence of those with pointy ears, Arry, Raithen, Æros, and Palaemon being the exceptions. “You’re a good deterrent,” she grinned at him. “I think anyone who might want to try would think again with you there. Especially if they were daft enough to try with his blood ties.” The girl was reflective. There was a point to be considered, however. A threat to Arvaelyn might not be the most obvious one. To go head-on against him was suicidal for sure. But the other tricks… Solunarium’s royals and nobility thrived on threats of violence and and venomous games that played out in the shadows. What they couldn’t see... they might not taste, either. “How is Arvaelyn these days?”

With Finn whisking away, as once all of the hot syrup had been added, the slower speed he had started with had to be kicked up a notch, Hilana lined up nine different mixing bowls on her table, each of them with a flavour extract in front of it. Besides those, metal tins, plus an extra one, were set out, too, and those she rubbed down with a hunk of butter in order to get them greased out and ready for when they had finished all of the mixing. If a time came that he was ready for a break, she would take her turn with the whisk, because the more they whisked, the more the volume of the confectionery was growing at an exponential rate. It now made a lot of sense why Hilana had chosen such a massive mixing bowl to beat the sweets together. But as it grew, it also got a lot thicker. And that meant it was getting harder and harder to keep it moving. Vanilla extract was added to the main bowl, and once that was thoroughly mixed in... the time came to start dividing the giant bowl of fluff into smaller bowls, and from there... Extracts were added, and the time came for yet more whisking before they were put into the prepared pans and dusted down with powdered sugar.

“That’s all we can do for that for now. It’s got to settle for a few hours... that always drove me wild when I was younger,” Hilana smiled at their handiwork, and then at Finn, raising her glass of hibiscus tea to him. She’d be getting out the muscle balm, too - it wouldn’t do to send him tired and sore back to his Amatus, after all. The buttered tins could be moved and lined up again on the countertops, each of them scented with the extract, just enough that one could smell it and decipher the flavour with their nose. “One of the servii at my father’s estate came from across the Crystal Sea. That was where he learned how to make these and I learned from him,” she explained.

[Finn]

Finn spent a good amount of time listening to Hilana, not responding just yet. He could be quick-witted, but often he took time to digest what he heard to better formulate his response. She had quite a bit of news, after all, from divine quests to royal visits to thoughts about the new political milieu. This was a strange new reality, where the Gods of Solunarium were returned, where the Shinsei and his husband were welcomed guests, and where Arvine Venasyr was more than just a rising star of an actor and the man he loved.

But when she asked an actual question, he had an answer, even as he whisked away.

"He seems to be taking it all in stride," he replied. "Between Kaladon and Sorokyn, he has been changed. He was an actor back in Kalzasi, so he knows how to put on a face for the crowds, but he ruminates when we are alone. It's what he's always wanted... family, fame, power... and now he just has to get used to it. And I need to get used to it as well." He smiled a self-deprecating smile. "I now have a God telling me that fame and fortune are my due, but I still feel strange having servi at my beck and call when I can do most things for myself."

Finn looked down at his portion of the marshmallow process as if to indicate that he was perfectly capable of feeding himself, at least.

When things were set aside, he partook once more of his tea and relaxed. Hilana might have her divine quests and royal guests, but she was able to remain grounded and down-to-earth in a way that made him more comfortable than the daily pomp and circumstance.

"I think there's a sort of beauty in the Silver Sentinels," he continued; it might seem like a tangent, but he was picking up where he had left off. "I get to swath myself in black, cover my face with a veil, and disappear into the role. I wonder if that was how Arry felt as an actor. I play a role when I'm performing, of course, but it's just a version of myself. Not false, just... polished. Even Cithæra ceases to be a princeps when she wears her veil. 'Tis a nice respite from the grandeur, and I get to help people most of the time.

"That said... I know your camel is dependable, but if you need help finding the Horn... I can take you on wyvern-back, and open portals besides." He was diffident with the offer, not knowing if They had given her strictures as to what aid she could receive. They seemed practical for all that they were superelven, though.