The Court of Queen Sarastra

Nathia held her breath as the portal magics took hold--that gut-wrenching feeling of weightlessness followed by the all-too-quick return to normalcy. Her stomach had barely settled when a cool voice greeted them: "Welcome to the Court of Queen Sarastra."

They were in a small room, the summoning circle fading around them. Two ShadowFey Guards, practically twins of Arnor, stood on either side of an arched doorway, tall enough that no one need duck. A female fey herald stood, politely but stiffly, in the door. Nathia stood tall and returned the greeting after Arnor made no move. He looked even paler than normal and a sheen of sweat stood out on his brow. She wanted to take his hand, but was not sure how it would be received by either Arnor or the Queen's herald. 

The herald, Lissori, seemed pleasant enough. She offered to wash the dirt of the road from them with a cantrip that she flung out with well-practiced ease, even freshening up Nathia's makeup, giving her a sultry air that Arnor, at least, seemed to notice. She seemed particularly taken with Wisteria; perhaps it was the grave cleric's pristine pearl-like complexion or her style of dress, and even complimented Blurb on his earthiness, much to the firbolg's surprise.

Once they had been deemed acceptable, she led them down a long hallway, but only after offhandedly warning them about the trapped floor tiles she was disabling. Even so, Nathia followed exactly in her footsteps, not sure she could trust the fey. And so, they all marched single file down the hall. Two more guards that could have been Arnor's brothers guarded a set of massive doors at the end of the hall. As they swung open, all they could see was a riot of colour.

Much like the court of the Lunar Knight, the room was full of well-dressed, impossibly beautiful fey. Two dancers twirled about in the centre of the room, surrounded by sparkling, shimmering lights. At the far end of the room was a steep set of stairs up to a throne upon which sat, obviously, Queen Sarastra. By her side were what looked like a princess and possibly an advisor and not far from that, someone so finely dressed as to be a prince. Her children? 

But Arnor's focus seemed to be on the two incredibly tall and imposing women at the base of the stairs. "The matron mothers!" he said for Nathia's ears alone. If she had thought him pale and drawn before, he was even more so now. They were the ones who held his future in their hands; at least, the kind of future that Nathia was worried about. Somehow, she felt she could not show any fear in front of them. She stepped forward, her chin held high. 

Lissori announced her, somehow knowing where she was from without even being told. Nathia strode into the room, not stopping until opposite the matron mothers. She calmly bowed to each in turn, respectfully but staunchly. They nodded back, perhaps surprised but not unimpressed. (OOC: yay for training in Intimidation!)

The others followed, one by one, the herald announcing each one before they entered except for Joell. Perhaps awed by the swirl of colours or the dancers, he hurried into the room without waiting for his introduction. There was a gasp of shock from all gathered and Joell stumbled to a halt and then did not move another step, looking anywhere but at the eyes of those around him. 

Finally, they were all announced and within the room. Now that they were inside, they noticed two that stood out -- a Sun Elf and a Moon Elf. Gorlock, indeed, thought them quite fair. 

The queen descended the steps, welcoming them, but still somehow looming over them. Again, they were greeted kindly but many among the group felt as if if would be far too easy to take a misstep. As the dancers twirled over carrying platters full of delicate goblets full of a sparkling liquid, Nathia waited until the queen had stopped talking. She carefully stepped forward and brought out the grumpfl and treats she had prepared. 

"We thank you kindly for your hospitality and hope that you can accept this humble gift to give you a taste of our world and intentions." There were a few twitters of amusement behind them, but Nathia did not let her expression slip. The queen raised an eyebrow but accepted the gift, letting one of the matron mothers take a taste first. At her nod, she took a bite herself. 

Nathia had spent more than a day baking in preparation and, as her Gran had explained to her, had done her best to stir the love in and think of the one she loved during the making. Perhaps it had worked, because the queen's eyebrows raised in delight over the green cake and she called around for others to join her in tasting it. (OOC: yay for a natural 20!)

The gift seemed to break the ice and normal chat resumed in the chamber, people once more moving about the room. Gorlock immediately moved over to the princess: Princess Echarjka and seemed to leave at least a pleasant impression upon her. Joell, still aware of his faux pas earlier, simply stood where he was like a bean pole, taking frequent sips of the starshine wine. Eamon headed straight to the prince, Prince Heist, and worked his charm, hoping to engage the prince in a sparring match if he could. 

Nathia stayed close to Arnor, worried about him. He had not said a word since they had entered and had the look of a cowed dog. But she did not escape the mingling; the two elves from other courts came up to her and introduced themselves as Maive of the Snow Court and Oleene of the Sunlit Court. They were both ambassadors. She had a brief chat with Maive about the little she knew of the Snow Court and Snow Elves from Arian, bringing a pang to her heart. She would not lose Arnor too.

On the other side of the room, Greeba had wandered over to join Eamon with the prince, though she spent most of that time looking the princeling over as if debating whether or not he was her type. Such things weren't only on her mind; Blurb was quickly surrounded by a bevy of buxom ladies and he awkwardly held court with them, seemingly unsure about their intentions as they toyed with his beard. 

Wisteria, noticing no one had gone to converse with the queen, swished over to her and complimented her on the beauty of the court. Far from when she would toll the dead, her words were designed to shower praise. The conversation seemed to be going very well until she asked about the absent king and the queen did not answer. 

Nathia, carefully dragging Arnor along behind her, joined them and loud enough so that hopefully the matron mothers would hear as well, attempts to smooth over the conversation with a careful recitation of Arnor's good deeds since joining them. It was hard to tell if it were an overstep or not, as one of the matron mothers let out a slightly derisive snort and belittled their efforts. In honesty, her words were not untrue; they had all been a bit too green behind the ears and unprepared for what they had found when they had met Arnor and had failed to stop the coming tragedy. Though it was certainly not Arnor's fault. Nathia kept her face neutral, hoping Greeba had not heard the insult. Wisteria, though, saved the day as she softly explained that experience was not a kind teacher. (OOC: Jelly, if you can remember exactly what you said, let me know, I only had it paraphrased in my notes) The queen seemed to agree, thankfully and the moment passed quietly.

Eamon, for his part, was doing his best to make a good impression. When asked by the prince about the drink he had been given after refusing the alcoholic starshine, he very politely made it known that the juice, while foul, was appreciated. It was orange juice, but so pale that it seemed as if the orange that it came from had never bathed in the warmth of the sun. The prince smiled at the monk's diplomacy and called for another drink to be brought to him; this one a better vintage of grape, but still not alcoholic in deference to the monk's vows. 

Meanwhile, Gorlock had discovered the charms of Maive and Oleene and soon had worked his magic. It would seem that Gorlock's Palace might someday soon be graced by their presence. They particularly appreciated his tactful invite as he played down his gambling skills in favour of their own. "Come by, I'm sure you'll do well as I am terrible at gambling." They seemed to like the offer, giggling together.

Nathia sought out the other matron mother in hopes of leaving a favourable impression if not of herself, at least of her bloodline. It seemed to work; the matron mother nodded thoughtfully along and seemed to almost be measuring her up. Wisteria, keeping an eye across the room, was surprised the matron mother didn't ask Nathia to bare her teeth so they could be inspected. 

Emboldened by this small success and followed meekly by Arnor, Nathia suggested to the queen and matron mothers that Arnor be allowed to return with them and that, perhaps, they could work to rebuild a nexus point as they had not been able to save the other. The queen seemed to consider the idea, even offering that the spot they had entered the fey realm through, atop Skul Peak, would be a suitable spot. Arnor, his shoulders finally relaxing a bit, moved to stand closer to Nathia and finally raised his head a little. She was glad of it. 

Eamon, unwilling to leave without sparring with the Prince, manages to talk him into a match. Greeba followed along, excited to see at least some kind of action. The prince soundly beat the monk, but Eamon held his own enough that the prince looked with some fondness upon him. He even gave him a drink of snowberry to assist his recovery afterwards. 

Queen Sarastra excused herself and left via the portal, with a few words to a more shabbily dressed fey that none of them had noticed before. But, just before she disappeared, she shared some words with Mac. (OOC: Matt, once that RP is done in the discord, give me an update and I'll put it here!)

Soon, they all felt they had best move on as well as things had gone better than any had expected and there was always the chance of a misstep. The herald led them to the portal and bid them farewell. Hardly believing it, Nathia took Arnor's hand as he stepped into the portal with them. Again, that stomach-dropping feeling and then -- they were out! The standing stones looked the same as when they had left, but now the warm glow of dawn was bathing them. They were home. They were home and Arnor was with them. Now, it was his home too.