“Not at this hour we didn't,” Keirine growled, her usual illusions down for once and the feathers on show. “Brother, you disappoint me.” She shoved ten septims into the centre of the table, looking disgusted.
“Shaved and dressed as well, good heavens,” Nepos said, surprised. “We were expecting a hungover wreck.”
“Not me,” Eola grinned as she raked in both Keirine and Nepos's gold. “I knew you'd be here on time, looking as good as ever. I had faith in you, Da.”
“Someone was cheating,” Keirine growled, glaring at her niece. “I don't know how, but you were.”
Madanach suspected that Sissel and Lucia had not come to wake him on their own initiative and that furthermore might be finding themselves richer by a few septims each come lunchtime, but he said nothing. Partly because such cunning and deviousness were traits he wished to encourage in his children, and partly because he presently had a smirking jester groping him.
“Aren't you supposed to be married now?” Madanach growled. “To my daughter, no less.”
“Don't worry, Da, Cicero and I have a relaxed approach to monogamy,” Eola said cheerily as she tore into her steak, bloody and rare as always. It had probably been vaguely introduced to a cooking fire at one point, but evidently the two just hadn't got on.
“Cicero has heard he and pretty Eola are not the only ones,” Cicero purred, dark eyes smouldering up at Madanach. “Cicero has heard of developments elsewhere too.”
Oh gods, his daughter deciding to have an open marriage, that was all he needed. Especially with a son-in-law like this.
“Well you heard wrong,” Madanach growled. “Now get off me and get back to your wife before I use cloak spells on you.”
Cicero scampered off, squealing and cackling as he ran back to Eola, suggestive grin never fading. Madanach inwardly shuddered. Oh good, he could expect a full day of this.
“Right. You, soldier, get to the kitchen and order breakfast for me – bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, they know how I like them done. Keirine, we're opening court any minute, do you perhaps want to at least pretend we're a nice, normal country?”
“Nice and normal? Us?” Keirine scoffed. “Madanach, they know what we are – dark mages, necromancers and Daedra worshippers. We are just the Empire's necromancers and Daedra worshippers now, their magic-resistant special forces for when the Dominion rises again. And you made Hagravens full citizens and it illegal to harm one.”
“I did, I also legalised consensual blood-drinking, that does not mean I wish to see it going on in the streets,” Madanach snapped, settling himself in the Mournful Throne. “Nepos, what have we got today?”
Keirine sighed and recast her Illusion cloak, Hagraven features vanishing as she took on the appearance of a silver-haired old lady, a female version of Madanach dressed in simple black mage's robes. Eola finished breakfast and chivvied Cicero off to start packing, preparing for their imminent honeymoon in Solstheim – an unusual choice, but it was wild, dangerous and very easy to hide bodies in. It was also rumoured to be home to a Morag Tong cell... although not once Cicero and Eola were through it wouldn't be. The Dark Brotherhood held grudges for a very long time.
Borkul took up his usual place at the foot of the Mournful Throne, and Nepos settled at Madanach's side with the court schedule. Another day in the Reach, just like any other... for now.
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Thicker Than Blood 1.8
Date: 2014-01-20 09:37 pm (UTC)“Shaved and dressed as well, good heavens,” Nepos said, surprised. “We were expecting a hungover wreck.”
“Not me,” Eola grinned as she raked in both Keirine and Nepos's gold. “I knew you'd be here on time, looking as good as ever. I had faith in you, Da.”
“Someone was cheating,” Keirine growled, glaring at her niece. “I don't know how, but you were.”
Madanach suspected that Sissel and Lucia had not come to wake him on their own initiative and that furthermore might be finding themselves richer by a few septims each come lunchtime, but he said nothing. Partly because such cunning and deviousness were traits he wished to encourage in his children, and partly because he presently had a smirking jester groping him.
“Aren't you supposed to be married now?” Madanach growled. “To my daughter, no less.”
“Don't worry, Da, Cicero and I have a relaxed approach to monogamy,” Eola said cheerily as she tore into her steak, bloody and rare as always. It had probably been vaguely introduced to a cooking fire at one point, but evidently the two just hadn't got on.
“Cicero has heard he and pretty Eola are not the only ones,” Cicero purred, dark eyes smouldering up at Madanach. “Cicero has heard of developments elsewhere too.”
Oh gods, his daughter deciding to have an open marriage, that was all he needed. Especially with a son-in-law like this.
“Well you heard wrong,” Madanach growled. “Now get off me and get back to your wife before I use cloak spells on you.”
Cicero scampered off, squealing and cackling as he ran back to Eola, suggestive grin never fading. Madanach inwardly shuddered. Oh good, he could expect a full day of this.
“Right. You, soldier, get to the kitchen and order breakfast for me – bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, they know how I like them done. Keirine, we're opening court any minute, do you perhaps want to at least pretend we're a nice, normal country?”
“Nice and normal? Us?” Keirine scoffed. “Madanach, they know what we are – dark mages, necromancers and Daedra worshippers. We are just the Empire's necromancers and Daedra worshippers now, their magic-resistant special forces for when the Dominion rises again. And you made Hagravens full citizens and it illegal to harm one.”
“I did, I also legalised consensual blood-drinking, that does not mean I wish to see it going on in the streets,” Madanach snapped, settling himself in the Mournful Throne. “Nepos, what have we got today?”
Keirine sighed and recast her Illusion cloak, Hagraven features vanishing as she took on the appearance of a silver-haired old lady, a female version of Madanach dressed in simple black mage's robes. Eola finished breakfast and chivvied Cicero off to start packing, preparing for their imminent honeymoon in Solstheim – an unusual choice, but it was wild, dangerous and very easy to hide bodies in. It was also rumoured to be home to a Morag Tong cell... although not once Cicero and Eola were through it wouldn't be. The Dark Brotherhood held grudges for a very long time.
Borkul took up his usual place at the foot of the Mournful Throne, and Nepos settled at Madanach's side with the court schedule. Another day in the Reach, just like any other... for now.