who says you can't go home?

[thecutdiamond]

 She should have known that when her boy went back to the place of her birth, he would have fallen into it immediately. He was too much both his parents' son not to. Still, when he calls telling her he's Challenging and wouldn't she please come and watch, just this once, she can't help but go.

It's her boy's first Challenge, after all. Had things gone differently this would have happened three years ago and probably would have been a little more violent in nature. As it is, he's inherited her-- or maybe more Andrew's, really-- stellar ability at chess, and she knew he'd done well in selecting it.

She almost doesn't make it to the Challenge because her first time stepping on the Deck soil in years has her breath coming up short. Pushes herself through it, for Arik's sake.

She's so much older than she was since she left. She doesn't imagine there's many people who would really look past the short brown hair and fake glasses to realize they recognize her distinctly Fioro eyes and nose; the curve of her absolutely Caustello lips. Arik knows her and the small handful of disguises she's worn over the years that she's sure he'll recognize her, regardless.

But some people know her too well, still, even with all the years that have passed. And some people aren't going to let her visit go unnoticed.

Comments

clearly this will turn into the right account next tag or whatever but.

[greatestmercy]

It had been a tumultuous first week, admittedly. There had been a lot of long nights, a lot of heated conversation, a lot of struggling against this new influx of information. Getting the boy situated and settled, when it was clear he was staying, had been easy; getting the rest of the family situated around his presence had gone much less smoothly.

Arik is, after all, 10 years older than Stephan--4 years older even than Kristen--and the son of the eldest brother, in spite of his technical illegitimacy. It had been something to be clear and thoughtful about among themselves.

But it's gotten better since then. It's been clear, watching the King, that whatever amount of pain still lives within him is absolutely dwarfed by the shining wonder of this young man having come into his life. He's brighter. He's quicker to laugh, more like when he was a younger man without shadows clinging to the edges of his mind. He's thrown himself into the act of fathering with absolute devotion. It's been very difficult to hold onto old angers in the face of.

So, like a dutiful Nine--and, more importantly, a dutiful uncle--Maximilian is sitting at the King's side to watch his nephew's first Challenge. It means he absolutely notices when Edgar's gaze, sweeping briefly over the assembled audience, freezes completely at a single face.

She does look vaguely familiar, Max concedes as he slips through the crowd on his brother's behalf. She does look like she could have fit into his memories when he's close enough to actually appear at her side.

"M'lady." Edgar hadn't been very clear about who the woman was when he'd murmured for his brother to go speak to her. "I've been asked by his Lordship to see you're well and comfortable here."