Immediately following the luncheon, Aisling takes Jovian, Kourin, Robin and Folly off in tow to the seamstresses, and shows them the options the Knights had thought of for Jovian and Kourin.  Robin, she says apologetically, they hadn't considered.

Aisling caused to be made a cloak of a light velvet in a rich brown, with gold and red-gold and copper embroidered feathers around the edges and at various places on the back, and a hood that can fall down over the upper face, pointed and with eye holes, similarly embroidered to look like the beak and face of a hawk.  There's a matching tunic with very deep dagged sleeves, winglike, similarly embroidered, and hose and a belt and such.
            The smaller cloak is of a pair with the other, of clear blue with silver and gold embroidery, coming with a matching dress covered with all the stuff modern Amber gowns are covered with, in addition to embroidered feathers.
            Robin's fine with the oversight.  Really fine.  She states that she thinks it's wonderful that Aisling has considered this and thought of the difficulties that recent arrivals in Amber might face -- really very sweet of it.  And she must admit that Aisling's designs are absolutely fabulous.  But Robin isn't really prepared at this time...  Thank you again, but she'll just be going now.

Folly suggests with a grin that perhaps Robin should go as herself - which would almost certainly eliminate the worry that someone else might choose the same costume....  For all that it's made in a joking tone, it's a serious suggestion.
            Folly also mentions that, although it might be too whimsical for Robin or
Kourin (and, she adds with a wink, is almost certainly too small for Jovian), she does have an extra costume available if any of them would like to borrow it:  a gauzy sundress the colors of a sunrise sky with silk-and-wire fairy wings on the back.
            Folly is happy to make other costume suggestions for Jovian and Kourin, but the wonderful stuff Aisling has already put forth may be sufficient....

Aisling looks interested.

Jovian, while he's charmed by the hawk suit, is interested in hearing Folly's ideas as well, as he's still getting a grip on the range of what's appropriate.

Robin looks over at Folly, a quick appraising glance, followed by a somewhat weak smile.  After clearing her throat, the Ranger mentions that thoughts along those lines had occurred to herself as well.  But, while it's a sweet suggestion, it's also kinda... lame, she finishes awkwardly.
            Robin will explain to the ladies that she's very flattered that they've taken her situation under their wing.  But really, she'll come up with something.  Really.  Bye!

Aisling bows, not holding her by look or expectation.

When Robin returns to her chamber after the business with everybody meeting Jovian is settled, she finds a note from her father asking that she attend on him in the library.
            Robin's chamber has a small, high window that lets in some light, but cannot be opened.

Well, thank the Green!  The Ranger snorts.  And here she was counting on him and the Regent to pull her, Jove and Vere out of that hairy-eyeball off.  Verde!  Her father's timing!  A grim chuckle ripples through Robin, seems hereditary though.  Ooops!  Okay, maybe it's a trained response.
            Robin takes the note with her as she sets off into... Dammit!  She stops a page and gets directions.

"Sir?"  The Ranger pokes her head through the library door cautiously.

"Robin. Come in." Julian is alone. His right hand is bandaged. Robin doesn't recall it having been bandaged, or even wounded, before their arrival in Amber.

Stepping inside, Robin closes the door softly behind herself.

"I have spoken with Gerard, and with Random. I have decided to close Arden, and Random has agreed to my request," he says, without preamble.

The spark of happiness that shoots through the girl's eyes cannot be hid, even by the quietness she's holding herself under.  Then a horrible thought occurs to her, and the Ranger's eyes dart to the bandage on her father's hand.  One eyebrow flickers in a concerned question.

"Random's crystal is quite sharp when it shatters," Julian answers her
             "My brother advises me that I am about to become a grandfather.  Again. Your brother Daeon has dallied with your cousin Paige. In the due turning of the seasons, she will bear twins."
            Julian's gaze on Robin is mildly expectant. It's the sort of look Robin associates with expecting her to know the name of the hawk flying overhead by its shadow in the trees, or the name of the hound by the shape of its pawprint in the muddy stream.

"Hunh."  Robin breathes out as she considers.  "Artemis and Calliste.  Perhaps the others.  They'll be looking for pawns.  And Paige will be weak or dying from the labor."

"Clarissa's line is stronger.  Paige might survive the childbirth.  But she'll be in no condition to fight them off..."

"The childbirth weakness seems to run only in my mother's line. But, yes, Paige will be in no condition to fight off any goddesses that should decide to steal her newborns. If Fiona is her midwife, I almost pity the goddess who tries to steal the infants. In general, in fact, I feel that the wrath of the redheads will fall on someone who tries to break the bond of the Clarissi."
            Julian continues: "If, as I suspect she will, she bears a son and a daughter, it will not matter. In due time, they will be called to Arcadia.  They will war with Calliste's children, and the winners will slay Daeon and take his place and Dione's. It is the way of Arcadia.
            "In the long term, I propose to interfere by stealing back my children by Calliste. I let Artemis raise Daeon and Dione by the terms of our bargain, but I only promised Calliste that I would sire her offspring. I said nothing of their raising," Julian adds with a smile.
            "As for Paige, her children must be guarded even before they are born. I was thinking of Couth. His wounds will not keep him from fighting, but they would limit his ability to travel. And if Paige requires a male companion, I suspect Couth is more than adequate to the task."
            Julian looks at Robin to gauge her response to the plan.

"Hmmmm." Wheels are turning behind the Ranger's eyes.  "When you assign Couth," a quick quirk at the corner of her mouth indicates Robin's appreciation of the choice, "how much of the reasoning are you planning on telling Paige?  Hinting to Fiona would guarantee that she mid-wives, but... do we want her interference?  Annnnd," a feral grin sneaks past Robin's mask for a moment, "when and where does the baby snatch go down?"

"Fiona's interference would be welcome, yes." Julian actually quirks one corner of his mouth upwards. "I have not yet decided how much to tell Paige, however. I am not certain how sound her judgement is. The 'baby snatch' will have to wait at least until the babes are born, of course, but as soon as possible thereafter. The longer we wait, the older the children will be and the less amenable to learning our ways."

A snort from Robin shows that she feels that 'sound' and 'judgment' shouldn't be used in the same sentence as 'Paige.'  But the Ranger nods her agreement to her father's assessment of the timing for baby snatching.

Julian frowns then. "We will also have to kidnap Daeon again. I *must* find a Pattern and put him on it. He is done with his godhead, although he does not know it yet. If he continues the way he has done, he will certainly perish."

"Do you think the Pattern at Tir-na N'ogth would be too... " Robin searches for the word but finds nothing better than, "esoteric for him?  Course I'm not really sure if it's there or not.  The Pattern, I mean.  Not Tir-na N'ogth."

"He has rejected the opportunity to walk the Pattern when I have presented him with it," says Julian. "I would try the Tir if I thought he would walk it, but I am not sanguine that it will attract him either. But he must transcend his godhead, or die. For what else happens to the Year God when the year is done?"

"Weeellll, 'transcendence' is a good word.  But 'rebirth' might work better if I understand what you're saying about Daeon." Robin rubs her chin as she thinks about it, "I wouldn't say anything about 'ending' or 'leaving' his godhead.  If  Daeon's fully integrated that into his concept of his own identity, you might have trouble."
            "Instead, you could try emphasizing the strengthening-refining-focusing angles of Pattern initiation.  You know, the 'it will make you more you' stuff.  Or maaaybbbee," the Ranger gets a gleam in her eye, "the 'it will break you down and then you will rise from the fires' angle.  That could play well to the rebirth, cyclical nature crowd."  She looks to her father with a raised eyebrow.

Julian looks Robin in the eye.
            "I am not interested in temporizing or obfuscating what will happen to your brother. You know as well as I what the consequences of a failed Patternwalk are. If Daeon will not walk the Pattern when told honestly what will happen ..." Julian trails off, not wanting to complete the thought.

Robin tiptoes to plant a sympathetic kiss on Julian's forehead.  "Daaaddd," she murmurs gently, "I don't want Daeon to die - on the Pattern or in the wickerman - anymore than you do."
            Then she sighs, steps back and meet Julian's eye.  "Okay.  I'm being flippant.  I'll stop now.  But I'm not temporizing or obfuscating, sir.  You already said that he wouldn't walk the Pattern when you presented it to him before.  What did you honestly tell him would happen?  What happened to you?  What happened to Gerard?  What happened to me?  Somehow, I'm not sure those were the same things, sir."
            "And if Daeon attempts to walk the Pattern as anyone other than himself, he'll *surely* fail.  Daeon's got to need to live through it for his own reasons.  No one else can give him the strength one needs to survive the Pattern, sir.  It comes from inside or not at all."
            "Therefore, if you want Daeon - not your son, but *Daeon* on the Pattern, you have to find what brings to him the need to succeed, the will to fight, and the sheer bravado it takes to spit in the eye of yourself, your fate, the universe and everything."
            "That doesn't mean lying.  That doesn't mean not telling the whole truth.  It means seeing the world through Daeon's eyes.  If only for just long enough to know what he loves.  And then letting him know that you value that."
            Robin stops for a moment, listens to the echoes of her voice in the room.  And wrinkles her nose.  Ick!  What a speech!

"Robin," says Julian gently, "I know you mean well, but you do not comprehend the matter. Walking the Pattern is not a thing gods do. It is a thing Princes of Amber do. What Daeon loves is being what he is. If he does not stop being what he is, its consequence is death. If he cannot find the desire to live as a Prince of Amber--which is what a being who can walk the Pattern is--he will not survive an attempt to walk the Pattern.
            "What he loves is at odds with that. That is the part of the problem I cannot cure and will not lie to him about."

"Okay." Robin says with quiet acceptance.  She has absolute faith in her father -- if he says she isn't getting it, then she isn't getting it.  "What can I do to help?"
            Those green eyes turn to him with warm support glowing in them.

Julian smiles. He looks a little less tired.
            "This evening, nothing. At some point you will need to speak to Vere, and perhaps later to Solange. I do not know her at all and cannot predict how she will react to learning what has long been hidden about the Isles. I know the next few days will be difficult, but after they have sorted themselves out, we will return to Arden. From there, we can do what is needful."

The Ranger's blonde head bobs in agreement.  "I...was planning on talking to Vere as soon as I reasonably could, sir.  He... well, he should know."  The girl blushes ruefully, a kiss of rose underneath her golden tan.  Then quickly changes the subject.

Julian nods. (Not once, and not abruptly.)

"Solange?"  Robin shrugs and her brows furrow.  Solange wasn't someone she really spent a lot of time with.  Gerard's daughter liked girl things.  And nobles.  Neither of which Robin had much time for.  And then there was that business with the badges.  Yep, Solange *was* going to be tricky.  But despite that, maybe she shouldn't be alone.  Even if her company in this was someone as rough and volatile as Robin.  "I'll see if she wants to talk."

"She may not, and if she does not, we must let her be for the next while.  But she will come to us in the end, and we must be ready when she does," Julian says.

"I won't push it." Robin says.  Something in her voice shares how she feels about people imposing themselves.  "And yeah, when she's ready, I can be too."  She smiles gently to Julian.
            The Ranger nods thoughtfully.  Yep, the next few days would indeed be difficult.  But her father was only asking her for a few days.  Days in Hell, sure, but only a few days.  The Ranger takes a deep breath and smiles at her father.  She has to do it, therefore she can.
            "Hey.  Wanna to play Stones?  I'm dying for a game."  The girl beams a chipper smile at her father.

"I would enjoy that very much," Julian says, and calls for a servant to bring the stones.  During the game, Julian will remind Robin that only Princes of Amber carry weapons in the presence of the King.

Robin pouts at that, but promises to do it.
 
He also supposes he doesn't have to remind her to dress appropriately for this shindig, does he? No patrol gear.

On this one, Robin is  straight-up with her father, is he -- Prince Julian of Amber, Steward of Arden, and loving father -- asking her to wear a dress?  Or to look appropriate as Scion of Amber?

Appropriate and formal, that's what Julian wants. Robin feels that Julian thinks a divided skirt is really too casual for this occasion. He's not going to push the point, though; he'd rather see her in a divided skirt than breeches.

Oh, Deep Green and Dark Shadows.  Robin's hurt and more than a little scared.  But if that's what her father wants her to be there as – a Daughter of Amber – than that's what she'll be there as.  But she's probably going to be physically ill after the Coronation.

Julian's not going to ask, and not going to push. He will respond honestly if asked, but appears to be going with "don't ask, don't tell" in the absence of a direct question.

Robin *almost* tells him how she feels about being asked to swear allegiance as a princess instead of as a ranger.  But then she shakes her blonde head ruefully at her own inflated sense of drama.
            She looks over at Prince Julian – and thinks of Daeon, who isn't there, and Jovian, who will return to his home in Shadow, and herself.  The man has three children, not one of whom gives a damn about Amber.  Very well, he won't stand alone at the coronation.
            Robin pulls herself together and nods.  She'll be there.  She'll be in a dress.  She'll a pretty, pretty princess of Amber.  And tomorrow?  Tomorrow, she'll beat the crap out of anyone who mentions it to her ever again.

Don't forget that you'll be going down to the Blessing of the Fleet immediately after the coronation without a chance to change clothes.

Boats, yay. :-/  But hopefully there will at least be some air.

* * *

 After her meeting with her father, Robin finds herself once more adrift in the pile of stone, cacophony and  *smell!* that is Amber Castle.  A sigh ripples through the girl and her face twists once as though she was tasting something terrible.  Ah well, no use putting it off any longer.
            With her usual pleasant aplomb, Robin picks on another young page at random and asks if Lady Brita is in residence.

The page doesn't know, but runs to find out. When he returns some time later, he says that Lady Brita is still in Arden the last the Steward has heard, but she is expected in the Castle tomorrow for the funeral. He [the page] will be happy to take a note to her room for her to receive when she arrives.

"Uh, no. That's okay.  Thanks."  The Ranger looks around the halls.  "Which way is Lord Vere's office?"  A self-amused chuckle ripples through her at her own inability to track in this place.

The page will lead her there, or guide her if she wishes.
            Vere, Robin is advised, was meeting with his father, and afterwards had business in the city.

There's a minute flash of angry green in the Ranger's eyes, that gives way rapidly to an ironic snort.
            She looks over at the page with a wry grin.  "And I suppose if I ask for Lord Reid, I'm guaranteeing that he's out of the castle as well?"  Her voice is teasing, she's a working girl too.

Assuming that the page either responds that Reid is in the castle or scampers away to return momentarily with the same news, Robin gestures to the young man to lead her Reid-wards.  As she follows through the twisting corridors of Amber, she rubs her forehead briefly once.  Then returns her normal pleasant expression to its place in time to meet the oldest of her... peers(?)

Reid answers the knock on his chamber door and ushers Robin in. The place is cluttered with art and musical instruments. To some extent, they are segregated -- art obviously favors one side of the room, while music is dominant in the other, but towards the middle, the items she sees are not immediately identifiable as either.

The girl cocks her head one way and the other as she takes in the clutter, her bright eyes favor the musical - seeming almost to shy away from the art side.

Reid offers Robin the only padded chair in the room... an overstuffed reading chair with a convenient side table. If Robin sits, she'll find that the chair is rather engulfing, but cozy once she gets over its softness. Reid then offers a drink, fixing one for himself in the process.

The Ranger perches as usual, then shifts as the chair seems to move under her, shift, shift... shift.  Eventually an annoyed chirp emerges from Robin and she jumps to her feet rather than be engulfed.  She tries to make it look natural, but... it's obvious that Robin doesn't want anything to do with the chair and is wondering what the heck Reid is up to with the guest-eating furniture.
            Consequently, when Reid offers a drink, there's a moment of hesitation as the girl thinks about what exactly is going to be in the glass, but eventually she settles for  "Something hard. Thank you."

It's clear that when she arrived he was in the process of doing maintenance on some of his equipment, both artistic and musical. Turpentine rags are out where he's been cleaning his brushes, and a lute sits not far off half-strung.
            For himself, Reid takes a chair that seems to be nothing more than two slabs of wood intersecting at an angle. It's a low chair, but places him in a reclining position that makes it easy enough to maintain eye contact with her.            
            "What can I do for you?" he inquires.

"Uh.  I won't take up much of your time, Reid."  Robin twitches a little, drops her eyes and unconsciously starts fiddling with something near herself.  "I was just wondering... when Random made his first surprise visit, "it's obvious that Robin has other words for that event, but that she's not going to share them at this time, "you were consulting a... paper.  Was that a chart of the royals?  Do you still have it?  Annnnd could I get a peep?"
            Green eyes startle as she realizes that she's messing with Reid's stuff and Robin  puts down the pic with an embarrassed blush.  And turns her green eyes to Reid.  Drink time, oh yes.

Reid's eyes scan over the stacks of paper sticking out from odd angles in his display cases, then reaches for one, seemingly at random. He hands it to her, a large parchment folded a few times to make it more convenient for transportation. Upon unfolding it, she'll see that there are portions of the family tree written in an even hand with a strong ink. Elsewhere on the sheet there are additions hastily made in pencil, as well as a few annotations, lines criss-crossing, etc. It is the family tree, as it was known upon Random's return. Should cover all the current and deceased parties, though the lineage of a few is still in question.

Green eyes scan the sheet curiously, occasionally Robin's lips move silently as she sounds out some of the names.  Her eyes dart over the paper, seeming to put together things fairly quickly.

"You can borrow that, if you need to. Or I might be able to answer a few questions. I'm not as up to speed on some of the younger generation though... particularly those who just came back." Reid's offer is such that it is clear it would not be an inconvenience.

Robin looks at him with large eyes as though trying to figure out what he's up to.  Eventually, she shakes her head, a quick toss of blonde.  "Th-thank you.  No, I don't need to borrow this.  And it probably shouldn't go wandering around in a pocket like mine."  She finishes with a quick flat smile.

A few more moments are spent studying the parchment, then Robin nods and carefully refolds it.  She holds the paper out to Reid.  "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, any time." Reid replies.

"That's very... kind of you."  Robin smiles, a little lost smile as though she doesn't quite know what to do with herself. "I should be going."  The Ranger eases her way toward the door.

Reid allows her to handle the door herself. He senses she would be uncomfortable if he took the gentlemanly approach.

"Thank you again, Reid.  Good day."  The Ranger smiles pleasantly, but lets herself out of the door quickly enough.  She doesn't let it bang shut, she does have some manners.
            Once outside in the hallway, Robin takes off in a random direction fairly quickly.