A Traveling Visit

[MackenzieGael]

This story takes place in Shrewsbury, Staffordshire beginning Sept 27, 1456


Her hand slid down the silky black coat of the tall stallion's back but her eyes were lost in the grain of wood opposite his back. It'd been forty five days since leaving Beeston. A moon had come and pass and the days were beginning to have a cold chill in the mornings. Did she miss home or was she content traveling? Aye, it was fun visiting new towns, seeing the scenery of countries so unlike her own. Shrewsbury was as far West as Mac had ever traveled in her life and the people seemed to be in general kind hearted and willing to help, but she had not enjoyed the tavern visits, had not enjoyed the swaying of the wheat field across from the tavern, and had not allowed herself to befriend anyone along the trip. Did she miss Beeston? Mac ran her hand down the horses side, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. Miss Beeston? Not exactly. She missed the man left in Beeston. The man who, even if he didn't know it, still held her heart in his hands. Did he know it? Did he sit at night thinking of her as she did him? The image from the council chambers danced again in her head; that stupid grin splayed across his face as he glanced up from his desk opposite a door with a line of women waiting to see him.

"Och the wee bloo..." She spun around on her heels, closing the stall door and heading with fierce determination from the stables. Enough was enough! She was purging him from her mind, determined to walk until her feet hurt too bad to think, or to get drunk enough it didn't matter anymore. Ah better lay off the whiskey. If they decided to leave in the morn she must be able to balance atop Crusher's back. "I will be more cheerful and make new friends.." She spoke softly to herself bursting into the blackness of the night as it hugged her with twinkling stars. A single light beam cascaded over the ground from the tavern but inside it was quiet and tame. Cecily and Stone were probably above in their room settled for the night. CG had disappeared. Turning to walk toward the other end of town Mac stopped short, hearing the sound of footsteps behind her. "Hello?"

[Aasha]

Pillow was restless inside the tavern, they'd been there quite a while and though Aasha didn't mind, and even encouraged him to annoy Ferix and sometimes Red, she didn't think letting him find a corner would be a good idea with Mayor Moose. - Wouldn't be fair for someone who's so nice to me to have to clean up after my pet. - Visions of moose cookies dancing in her head, Aasha got up and motioned for the fox to follow as she walked out of the tavern, virtually unnoticed by the town folk still chatting inside.

Even with the lateness of the hour, Pillow showed no signs of energy loss, and was running around sniffing trees on the path and marking territory as he ran. A smile lit Aasha's face while she watched, the fox could always lift her spirits when he was doing what he did best, it reminded her of her freedom to do as she pleased as well. - Well...what freedom you have within those blasted rules. Why are there so many for women, and so few for men?

Given the time, she was surprised to see someone else ahead, with apparently the same amount of energy as her pet. As she got slightly closer, she studied the form, trying to discern in the darkness if this was a man or lady. When the woman spoke, Aasha froze. The voice was familiar, but why? Eyes straining in the darkness, she tried to dig through memories before she got any closer.

Pillow had other ideas though, and ran straight to the lady, his nose twitching as the smell of horses reached his nostrils. Before he could jump up and sniff more, Aasha called out; Pillow, no. Don't be botherin' nobody now. Hoping this wasn't going to be a huge mistake, she stepped out of the shadows to face the voice she'd not yet placed.

[MackenzieGael]

While the town was a lot livelier than the ones she'd visited in Worcestershire and in West Staffordshire, Mac didn't expect to meet anyone here on the streets. She had rather hoped to spend time alone thinking, but her thoughts were not happy ones, they were more melancholy and sad so perhaps not thinking was a good thing. She wanted silence and solitude but yet knew she needed speech and company... ahhh why life why?

From the shadows appeared an animal. Not a dog, nor a cat. A fox? Here in town? She studied the creature curiously, his copper colored coat glistening in the stray light from the tavern's windows. He appeared friendly. Was he someone's pet? Squatting Mac held her hand out slowly for him to smell while she spoke in soft undertones, the speech of her home. It's lilting syllables creating a rhythm many animals seemed to find comforting.

"Pillow, no! Don't be botherin' nobody now." A lady's voice preceded her appearance from the same shadows which the fox had come. Mac glanced up quickly offering the lady a smile before turning back to the animal. "Aye so yer name is Pillow?" Her fingers longed to bury in the thick fur and scratch behind the animal's ears but she respectfully waited. "I can see where yer master would think ye make ah good pillow. Good E'ven'n m'lady." She glanced up again with a more genuine smile and studied the figure that had appeared. The lady looked familiar... very familiar but Mac couldn't place her face. Had she ever been to Beeston? There were a lot of travelers in and out of the town, it being on the main route North, but it was seldom she could not remember a face. Och don't worry about it Mac, she thought, you have a lot going on now I'm sure it will come to you.

[Aasha]

The lilt to the voice was unmistakable, this was a lady Ash new well, and not one she'd thought to see again. But then, the world was smaller than she'd ever thought, after all, this wasn't the first chance meeting she'd had with the lady since Chester. During their last one, this lady had possibly saved her life, and who know what else, due to the infatuation of the wolf with her. Aasha owed her a debt of gratitude the woman would probably never understand, but did she want to let her know who she was? Could she in good conscious not? - Trying to be a lady Ash...you faced the wolf, maybe this is Jah's way of telling you that you need to face her too. Thrice in such a short time? It's definitely a sign of something. -

She was nervous, but hid it well as she continued forward so the moonlight could touch upon her face. Ya, his name is Pillow...an' I'm his friend, not sure 'bout mast'r though. He ken come an' go if'n he wants. She had to look up to meet the lady's eyes, being short as a female had many more disadvantages than it had when she was dressed as a lad. Umm...we done met before m'lady... Changing her tone to the deeper, huskier ones she used as Ash, she continued; ...an' I'm thinkin' I owes ya...

[MackenzieGael]

"Och, ye remind me o' things I shouldna be forgettin'. I's been away from home too long. The civilized English ways are settlin' in." Mac chuckled reaching her hand out tentively toward the animal, her fingers lightly touching the crest of his head and running smoothly over to scratch along his ears. "Ye dinna own an animal nor are ye mast'r o'er one. An animal may choose ye but nay the o'her way a'roond."

She glanced up again at the lady, letting her eyes roam freely over her face, curiously. Just where did she know the lass? Beeston? "Ummm. we done met before m'lady... an I'm think' I owes ya..." Owes me? Mac could feel her brain shift into overdrive, running through all the faces she could remember along with names and spare bits of information. When the lady lowered her voice, however, recognition seemed to dawn on her like the break of light in early morn. The laddie! The laddie at the tourney and in Manchester. The laddie Grave swore stole from her. Grave.... Uuurrrgh Mac! Don't think of him.

Her hand ran idly down the foxes back. Why would the lass have dressed as a boy? Was she in trouble? Was she running? Or was it just more fun? Hmmm.... "I must 'member to try that sometime." She chuckled softly under her breath.

"Ahh so twas ye in Beeston at the tourney. And ye in Manchester as well with the tall handsome fella I meant ta help ye there." She offered up another smile, this one more sincere and hopefully more welcoming. The lass looked fearful, as though she would sprint away at any moment. "Why though, do ye say ye owe me?"

[Aasha]

Her words made sense, she'd pinned exactly how Aasha felt about Pillow. She wasn't his owner, she wasn't his master, she was just his companion, and considered herself lucky he'd chosen her. She loved him, unreserved. He expected nothing save her presence, there were no rules attached, no second guessing if she was doing things right, just a mutual affection that was special.

She saw the moment recognition came, and braced herself for the lady's reaction. It was curious, the expressions crossing the woman's face so quickly seemed to be that of someone pulled to another time, lost in thoughts just as Aasha was wont to do. The words that came next made no sense. - Probably talking to herself, you do it, I guess you're not crazy after all. Others do too, only out loud sometimes. Good thing your arguing with yourself isn't out loud, folks would be thinking you're nuts. -

Finally, the lady spoke to something she could answer. The smile allowed her to only margionally relax, she wasn't yelling for guards, so maybe she'd live another day away from the gaols. It was me there...an' I'm 'prec'atin' yer help with yer man. Weren't sure I was gonna live through that meetin'. Taking a deep breath, hoping this wouldn't be the same sort of mistake when she met with Grave, she murmured; He was tellin' the truth though...I'm guessin' he gaves ya yer coin back...but I owe ya fer helpin' me, an' fer a skirt.

She tensed back up by the time she finished, and looked around to make sure there were no guards approaching, nor anyone else who might have overheard her softly spoken words.

[MackenzieGael]

"My man?" That stupid gut feeling was back, like someone had punched her in the stomach and jolted her heart with electricity at the same time. Her man. Grave. At Beltaine he hadn't been her man, though there was no denying the pull, the energy, the attraction between them, and now.... now she had no idea. Do not cry Mac! Her grandfather's low voice came to her soothingly and suddenly she missed him more than ever. She missed home. She longed to crawl in his lap, like she'd done as a child with his strong arms around her and her head on his shoulder while she cried. Cried.

Mac turned her head to the sky, seeming to intently study the sprinkle of stars when instead she was blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over the dam. Aye at one time Grave had been hers. That night at the campfire was magical in every sense. It left her with the wonderful feeling of being loved, cared for, and.... and feeling special. Then it had all gone to hell in a lavishly designed basket called Chester Council. The fact that they hadn't spoke since then ate away at her heart like maggots on a dead carcuss, save that it hurt more than she was sure anyone was meant to feel.

"My coin?" Maintaining control over herself Mac turned back to the small lass, choosing to ignore the question of "her man". There was no need to correct a statement that she didn't know the answer to herself. She wanted him to be but... "Ahh the coin ye stole from me? He dinna return it but nor have I spoke to him in many months. 'Tis okay. If'n I dinna notice it's absence then ye surely dinna take enough to matter and ye seemed to be in much more need than meself. I like to help people, even if unknowingly." She forced a smile although could feel it was weak. Smile and ye'll feel happier no? She was beginning to disbelieve that statement long ago spoken. Smiling didn't change the past nor did it make things better. "Owe me for a skirt? Nay! Twas nay a problem a'tall. Ye merely provided for a wee bit of amusement that day. Seems it were only fair. I pulled McMannanan's kilt down earlier. Ye missed that one did ye?"

[Aasha]

The solitude of night pulled her out of the house. No one to see her and ask the many questions she couldn't answer.

You were a duchess and walked away. You spent most of your time angering every force that could lead the demise of your county. And then, you left. Failure, embarassment. Did you leave Stafford better than you found it?

Day after day these words ate away at her. But nothing tore her inside as much as the fact that she found herself agreeing more with the criminals than the law makers. What was she becoming?

Why is it that what I believe to be right is so wrong to those in power?

She stopped. In the scarce light she saw Aasha speaking to some woman. The girl looked worried. Tiff gathered her cloak closer around her and walked toward the pair letting her footsteps fall heavy enough to be heard.

Aasha, I swear you never spend more than a moment in the house. Eventually I'm going to have to get you some outdoors gear or risk you catching ill in the cooling weather. Tiff made sure to stop shoulder to shoulder with Aasha, facing the woman opposite. Her demeanor and posture meant to show protection of the girl. Evening lady. It seems to be a busy evening. I hope it's finding you well.

[Aasha]

Being so adept at hiding her own emotions, it was easy for Aasha to note that this woman was doing the same. Sometimes, the best thing to do was to not notice, she hoped it was best now, though she couldn't help but wonder what caused this lady's spirit to be down. She gave her all the time she needed to speak, only keeping an eye out for people approaching, this was not a conversation she wanted to explain. The sympathy she was experiencing was new though, not an emotion she expected for a relative stranger. - But then, all strangers don't lie about who they are to protect a body either...not like she did in Manchester. -

So there she stood, until Mac finally spoke. Once again, the acceptance and kindness of people around here shocked her. - Did she really say it didn't matter? Where were all these people when I was growing up? - Then if'n theres somethin' yer ever needin' from me...jus' let me knows. A slight smile and relaxing of tense muscles followed, along with ; M'nahmooonah's kilt? Is that the man what was wearin' a skirt? Thems is called kilts? There was no way she could keep a straight face then, just the thought of a man in a skirt made her grin.

It was at that moment that Pillow barked, and the distinct sound of approaching footsteps was heard. In fact, seemed to Aasha that the footprints were meaning to be heard. She'd already relaxed, and Pillow wasn't growling, so she didn't tense back up. Tiff's voice in the darkness only made her smile grow. She'd missed the lady, more than she'd realized. Don't likes bein' in the house less I gots to be...an' Ellie don't likes me underfoot too much, not since I almost burnt her kitchen when she was teachin' me to bake a cake.

[MackenzieGael]

Pull yerself together Mac. She chastised herself before standing, brushing down her skirt and giving the fox another scratch behind the ear. Yer not a blubbering idiot, yer a Fraser, a strong intelligent and hardheided one.

"Aasha I swear..." Another voice shifted through the night air and Mac turned to greet the approaching lady. Ye wanted to meet people no? Well here's yer chance! The woman seemed unfamiliar to her but with a grin, this time very genuine, tugging at her lips, Mac quickly noted her stance; the valiant tilt of chin, flashing eyes and shoulders thrown back and even with the small lasses to form a wall. Oh she recognized that power for it was a strength she wielded herself; or had at one time. She needed to find it again, to harness the raw intensity and in the stream find who she was.

"Good Ev'ning m'lady." She smiled again, finding the action a little easier than it had been before. "I were just speaking to me new frien here aboot the tourney held in Chester last fall. And aye lassie, McMannanan were the fella wearin' the kilt." Oh what McMan would say did he hear his kilt called a skirt. She would be sure to mention it to him, if'n she ever saw him again. "He's Scottish an weeell... we rather fancy a man's knees.... so aye 'ees skirts called a kilt."

[Aasha]

This was what she loved so much about Shrewsbury. Everywhere you went there were smiles and welcomes. And a rather large lot of people who abused the poor language of English fouly. If she heard Aasha add an unnecessary 's' to something again she was going to scream. Ah well, she's an orphan without the luck of education your mother left you. Imagine how you would sound if your education had been left to your father.

Tiff raised her eyebrows at Aasha. Burnt the kitchen? So that's where that strange soot coloring came from next to my dried herbs. I was wondering about that... She placed her hand firmly on Aasha's shoulder, affecting a frown. And since you like the outdoors so much you can help me pick some replacements for those ruined herbs. The frown quivered and melted into a grin, the expression to hard to keep in face of Aasha's large innocent eyes blinking up at her.

The woman with them explained the Aasha the finer points of man-skirts... kilts. Tiff knew Scotsman tended to be rather less than fond of having their kilts called man-skirts. My dear Lady, I can only assume that Scottish men have much nicer knees than English, for I can't imagine a less romantic site than a bunch of skinny Englishman's peg legs. She extended her hand out. I'm Tiffanyanne, but most people call me Tiff.

[Aasha]

She'd never get over how quickly everyone but her called someone friend. She could barely figure out how to trust, let alone relax enough to make friends easily. And forgiving, no one was as forgiving, it shook the foundations of what she thought she knew of human nature. She couldn't dwell on it though, Tiff's hand on her shoulder and frown drew her out. She done chased me out...said I was too wild or somethin' to be helpin' much in theres...i'pat'ent was one of them words she used. She didn't want Tiffany too upset though, so hearing her 'punishment' was reassuring, and almost sounded like fun. I ken help with that. Ain't nothin' likes pickin' weeds to pass a day.

The glimmer of mischief was unmistakable, as well as the amusement even in the wan light. Mac's mention of the skirts,then Tiff's comment about skinny peg legs caused twitching lips to change to a full blown laugh. Ya'll ken fancy men's knees...but them men'll be in trouble when a wind blows and shows their bra'es. That'd be funnier then pegs fer legs.

[Aasha]

Smiling, Mac took the lady's hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze followed by a smile. There was no better way to push back the emotional feelings than to direct her attention elsewhere and stumbling upon these two new aquaintenances in the dark had been a blessing. "My name is is Mackenzie but everyone calls me Mac. I'm newly arrived in your town from.... weel I hale from Beeston but we've been traveling a good bit lately, stretching our legs and seeing the countryside so to speak."

She dangled her fingers at Pillow, and was rewarded with by his movement to her, allowing her fingers to scrape down his back and back up again soothingly while the two of them listened to the banter between Tiff and the small lass. She still didn't know the girls name, and curiosity was bubbling up in like a brew pot. Why had she been disguised as a laddie? What circumstance left her homeless and without food. Who was the tall handsome laddie whom she'd seen the lass with in Manchester. Beltaine. Manchester. She sighed trying to push those thoughts back into the recesses of her mind. I will not think of him. Will not!

"My dear lady..." Mac found herself back in the conversation and couldn't help but smile at the mention of Scottish men's knees and then a quick chuckle at the thought of a good stiff wind. Her eyes caught Tiff's with a mischievious glimmer. Clearing her voice she spoke, trying to hold back the laughter. "Weel, I've seen a migh' many bonnie knees back home. I daresay the men there wouldna be caught in trews a' all. My wee cara... the ehh... traditional dress for a true Scotsman... 'e doesna wear bra'es under e's kilt."

It was happening, the two women were so bad at correct pronounciation that now their bad language was feeding off each other. Much more and Tiff wouldn't have the slightest idea of what either was saying. Though she had the idea that both of them were now talking about seeing more than just knees on Scotsmen. She felt her face warm at the turn of the conversation and was thankful that it was evening.

Great, even Aasha is less easily embarassed than me.

Tiff cleared her throat and placed herself at the elbow of each woman, grabbing hold. While this is a very... ah... interesting conversation, the night falls heavily upon us. Shall we see your mount safely tucked in and then move on to the taverns Lady Mac? Anything to stop this conversation from getting any worse either in content or form. And what the blazes was a bra-ess or trews? Never mind, it's probably not something I want to know.

The Taming has moose cookies if you are interested in snacking on the best cookies this side of the England. And... hmm... the other taverns are newer. Lets go to Taming. Without waiting she started tugging the women away.

Maybe that's why she called cara wee... poor man has no idea we are learning such private things about him.

Fugue was sitting in her usual corner poring over the tomes in hope of understanding Advanced Medicine soon. She felt dazed with words (and not a few mugs of ale) when she heard voices. Without looking up, she reread the last sentence and marked her place with her hair ribbon. Company would be welcome!

[Aasha]

She was too busy chuckling to realize mentioning mens undergarments in company was taboo, though Mackenzie’s comment about Scotsmen not wearing anything under had her eyes glazing in disbelief. She was so shocked in fact, that she didn’t think to question what wee cara meant, even when her brain yelled something about another person thinking she was a child. Why would… Even Aasha wasn’t dumb enough to complete that sentence, she swallowed it back, avoiding both ladies eyes.

Tiff’s voice broke her silence, doing much to dispel the tension of fighting her own instincts. Moose cookies…them’s somethin’ once ya start eatin’, ya just can’t stop. She’s been spoilin’ me right good, slippin’ me some when I sees her. Grinning once more, she gracefully gave into the tugging before Tiff pulled her over, following her into the tavern.

The lighting was only slightly better indoors than out, just enough difference to make her blink. Pausing to let her eyes adjust, force of habit had her scanning the occupants, noting who and where just in case. It was much emptier than when she’d left, though the die hard regulars were still in attendance. The lone figure in the corner caught her eye, it was someone she met, but who? Oh…it was when Pillow went missing…that’s…umm…Lady Fu…Fugue. Yah, that’s it, Fugue. –Proud she remembered, but not wanting to disturb anyone, she waited to see if the lady approached as she turned back to her companions.

[Aasha]

Oh .... oh dear... this could be even worse that conversations about various naughty bits of Scotsmen. She and I certainly didn't see eye to eye when we were both duchesses. Maybe if I get her drunk...

Tiff had paled and stilled at the door, standing next to Aasha. She waited to see what the other woman would do. The tavern was too empty for it not to be conspicuous if she didn't greet the woman, but she didn't want to run over with a false cheer she didn't feel.

Everyone in front of the regent, angry and arguing. The halls of Parlaiment rang with more discord than normal. Those sitting on the opposite side of parliament had the power...

She pushed the thoughts back and smiled at Lady Mac.

Where shall we sit?

It was Mac's voice she recognized first. Fugue looked up with a blink and shake of her head to clear the hair now falling over her face. And Aasha, the girl with the fox!

The table rocked as she suddenly stood, Mac! Aasha! What a surprise! Fugue blushed as she realized that she did not know the other woman, someone obviously important by her carriage and her dress. And here I am shouting like a schoolgirl. She curtsied, intending to wait politely for an introduction, but the excitement of seeing an old friend was too much. The grin broke out again and she reached to hug Mac.

[Aasha]

Tiffany was too still by her side, unlike the person who had practically dragged her in. Whispering so only Tiff could hear; Is ya feelin' bad? We ken go home if'n ya need to... The smile towards Mac was slightly reassuring, though she stayed close just in case.

The ease that Lady Fugue remembered her name made her glad she'd placed her before she approached. Lady Fugue...this is my fam'ly Lady TIffany. An...ya knows Lady Mac... The affection and almost pride in the word family was subtle, but Aasha'd never had someone to call family before, and being thought of that way was something she didn't take for granted.

[Aasha]

The woman eye's barely stilled on Tiff and slid over to Lady Mac. She let out a silent sigh. Good, there was nothing she wanted to talk about less right now.

She heard Aasha's concern and looked over to her, a small smile on her lips. I'm just fine Aasha, but thank you for asking. She gave her arm a gentle squeeze and then turned back to Lady Fugue and Lady Mac.

It's a pleasure to meet you Lady Fugue. She kept out the 'again'. If the woman didn't recall her, so much the better. Shall we have a round of drinks by the fire?

Without waiting for an answer she went to the bartender. Warmed honey ale and a plate of Moose cookies. And if none of the drinks is ever empty I will make sure you are well compensated. The last part she said in a lowered tone. The bartender gave her a conspiratorial wink.

Lady Fugue...this is my fam'ly Lady TIffany.

What a change in the girl since Fugue had last seen her. She seemed both more comfortable and more self-conscious in an odd combination which somehow worked. Then she realized what she had heard. Oh, my! How different we look out of office. But I know this woman's mind more than her appearance. I wonder why this feels easier. Because she is family to Aasha?

She watched Tiffany move to the bar after the introduction. Have I offended her? She sighed, and girding herself, she followed to stand beside the elegant woman at the bar. Looking at her solemnly, she said, We meet now as Fugue and Tiffany. I know that the duchesses had their differences, but I always had great respect for the mind of the Duchess of Stafford. Will you accept me as Fugue, the travelling scholar? She closed her eyes for a moment. This was hard; the echoes of political strife reverberated. There. Said. I have either gained a possible friend or retained an enemy.

Tiff didn't hear the stop steps coming up behind her and almost dropped the plate of cookies when she heard Lady Fugue's voice.

crap crap crap crap crap....

When Lady Fugue offered to put aside the past Tiff almost cried in relief. Only if you promise to call me Tiff.

Fugue let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. Of course, Tiff. And if any armies storm the tavern, we can beat them off together by throwing cookies at them!

Fugue turned back toward the others who must be wondering what she and Tiff were doing.

Now that was going too far. A frown burrowed Tiff's brow.

You've obviously never had moose cookies or you would know that throwing them at the enemy would be a terrible tragedy and an insult to the sanctity and wonder that is the great moose cookie. Without waiting for Fugue's responce she pushed a cookie into the woman's mouth and then wandered off back to Aasha and Mac.

Fugue spit and sputtered and put a hand up to her mouth where it felt like it had been cut. Well, clear is clear. I am not welcome here.

After brushing the crumbs from her clothing and feeling again that corner of her mouth, the dark haired woman took a deep breath and straightened her back. She kept her expression blank as she had learned to do when in public office as she gathered her books. Turning, she saw the group still at the door. She would have to pass them. Another deep breath and she approached. Mac, come see me when you can. Aasha, I am glad you are well and look so happy. Goodnight, your Grace. As she walked to the door she was careful to keep her step steady and her face expressionless.

[Aasha]

The mood was lighter in the tavern, the darkness concealed any lingering guilt over Mac's skirts, she was accepted readily from all present, and she got to enjoy two of her favorite things, ale and moose cookies.

She was standing with Mac, patiently waiting for Tiff to return. Lady Fugue had followed. Turning, she watched with curiosity as they chatted. Eyes widened when she saw Tiff stuff a cookie in Fugue's mouth. - Thats not like her at all. Wonder what's going on?At least everyone loves moose cookies... -

But Fugue seemed to be the exception, the lady paused to speak, obviously intending to leave. Yer leavin' now? But ya ain't had a drink...an' after yer help with Pillow before what I never thanked ya for proper, I thought I'd get ya one now.

[Aasha]

Tiff stood imperiously and pointed at Fugue.

This woman insulted the great and beneficent Moose cookie, so I made her eat one. Can you believe she wanted to toss her cookies? That's like throwing your gold at thieves to get them to leave.

She looked at the blank expression on Fugues face, the confused one on Aasha's and was that anger from Mac?

Well at least tell me this Fugue, did you like the cookie?

Anonymoose had been working in the back of the tavern when she heard something about her cookies being disparaged. She stormed outside with a frown on her face, just in time to hear Tiffanyanne say that the holy moose cookie had been insulted.

"What's going on here," she cried, her hands on her hips.

Fugue nodded in acknowledgement. I am sure that they are good. Perhaps someday I will be able to taste one rather than be assaulted by one. She paused, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation. No, whatever had happened, Countess Tiffanyanne was angry over something unfathomable and did not look as if she were going to calm down. I'll trouble you no longer. Goodbye.

But being assaulted by a Moose cookie is like being assaulted by love! Tiff wailed.

It should be noted that the stress of the last few months had weighed heavily on Tiff. She was trying so hard to be her normal cheerful self with Fugue that she was actually being quite nuts.

She grabbed a hold of Fugues shoulders and turned her towards Aasha. Tell her Aasha. Tell her she's been assaulted by love. Who doesn't like love in all its forms?

[Aasha]

The interchange between the two would have been amusing any other time, but at this moment, Aasha could only watch dumbfounded. Tiffany's actions were so far removed from what she'd come to expect from her that she honestly didn't know how to react. - I told Red something was wrong! - But being right wasn't helping the situation.

It seemed everything in her life was going astray. Her past was coming to her when she least expected it, Aimar was gone, the new stirrings for Red were throwing her in turmoil, and now her family was going insane. Ain't nothin' better than moose cookies Lady Fugue. Turning towards Anonymoose, she smiled, then picked up a fresh cookie.

Moments later, cookie in hand, she faced Fugue. Ya really should try one...then I'm sure ya will un'rstand. Have a cookie an' ale wit' us... In a much lower tone, making sure no one could overhear, she whispered; ...she ain't meanin' to hurt ya none...she just ain't...umm...actin' herself lately...

Praying her pitiful attempt at being peacemaker worked, she swiftly grabbed an ale, wistfully wishing it would wash her cares away.

[Aasha]

Anonymoose looked at Tiffanyanne with wide eyes.

Sidling over to Aasha, she whispered, "Is Tiff okay? She doesn't seem herself at all. It's not because of cookie withdrawal, is it?"

[MackenzieGael]

Stepping into the tavern Mac took in a quick breath and couldn't control the smile that threatened to split her face. Oh but what a joy it was to see a familiar face. Traveling produced a mottled collection of strangers that were more than interesting but there was no denying the strong pain of homesickiness in the pit of her stomach, and the familiar face of Lady Fugue was both a joy and a soothing ointment to the wound.

"Lady Fugue!" She cried hugging the lady tightly. "Oh but how wonderful it is to see you!"

******

Standing silently, hands clasped behind her back to prevent the fidgeting she would most assuredly do otherwise, Mac watched with great interest Fugue and Tiffany's interaction. True they had been duchesses at the same time but she was unfamiliar with this tension they contained between them. Och but ye've been out 'o politics awhile remember? Frustrated she glanced around the room, her eyes scanning the other inhabitants and looking for any chance of recognition, anything really to jar her brain from wandering to the dark times in Chester County that had forced her from council and invevitably her mayorship.

" Mac, come see me when you can. Aasha, I am glad you are well and look so happy. "

"Happy m'lady? Aye weel I reck'on I've goot a' smile on me face but it dinnae always portray ma true feelings. But then ye know that. I would love ta come see ye. I assume yer staying 'ere at the inn?"

Suddenly her eyebrows shot skyward as Tiffany seemed to charge Fugue, spin her around and scream at Aasha about love. Love. Och! What did anyone know of love. But Moose cookie love? Being assaulted by moose cookies was assaulted by love? Biting her bottom lip Mac began to wonder about this new friend of hers. Perhaps being duchess has addled her brain. Was she daft? Moose cookie love? She had to fight back a chuckle, knowing that right now it would possibly cause more anger than it would amusement.

"If'n these cookie bring an onset of love I'm thinking I need one meself!" Stepping quickly forward she grabbed one herself, hoping to lighten the mood and release the tension that was bubbling in the air.

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