Oct 21, 2018 8:20 PM
griffinmarsh
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Emma and Ivan in Chronicle
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Well, that face is downright adorable.

(Emmalina squashes that thought firmly.)

"You may have saved me from Morath, but really, the greater feat was saving the world from the lemon yellow lace concoctions my mother insists on buying me."

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"Is it the yellow or the lace?"

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"Oh, certainly both," she laughs, "but the yellow is definitely the worse idea of the two. I think I've got orange somewhere, too. Half the time I think she must be colorblind."

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"So you're saying I shouldn't wear my yellow sweater, not even on crisp fall days."

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"Vitally important. A matter of utmost importance to the health and security of Raxwell," she agrees solemnly.

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"Well, that leaves me the green and blue one with the fringe, then. Is fringe allowed?"

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"If carefully measured."

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"It's a couple inches, the fringe."

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"Permissible," she allows grandly.

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"Oh good."

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Emmalina finishes off the remains of her bun with, in her opinion, entirely the correct amount of relish. She learned the basics of cooking with Morath, but only just enough to get by; proper, castle-quality food is still a luxury on par with her future spouse, the guest room mattress. She sighs happily, but there's still something...

"...is it weird that I sort of miss Morath?" she asks thoughtfully.

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"I think Milo writes letters to Roxim, sometimes. - did I tell you about Milo and Roxim, I forget."

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"Roxim doesn't ring any bells... Milo's your princess cousin?"

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"Prince! But he smells like a princess. And Roxim is the dragon who can't see too well or hear too well and made it all the way home with Milo dangling from his claws before he was corrected on the matter, and couldn't find his way back to put Milo where he'd found him, so I went and rescued him."

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Emmalina laughs. "Yes, you told me about his princess... confusion, I think I just didn't catch Roxim's name. They write letters? Really?"

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"I think so! You'd have to check with him to be sure, I don't spy on his correspondence."

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"Pretending he writes the letters isn't that different from actually sending them!" She considers for a second. "I could, I suppose. He was nice enough. It was more... being there was a routine, you know?"

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"Never having been personally kidnapped by a dragon, no, not especially..."

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"But you and your cousin could make a matching set!"

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"I haven't the figure."

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(Emmalina is not checking out his figure nope not even a little this is entirely his fault.)

"A great loss for dragonkind," she says, then promptly changes the subject. "So, how's your day so far?"

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"Things with my dad are still weird but hopefully that will... smooth out, or something."

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"Oh, well... I'm glad it worked, at least?" She hesitates. "Um. Weird like... do you want to talk about it?"

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"Huh, do I? Maybe. So like - he was turned to stone before I was even born. Mom was pregnant, and he'd been sent off to live with this family in this village since he was a baby since there was a prophecy that turned out to be about him turning to stone and nobody wanted that, but they didn't know that, so they tracked down the fact that he was Uncle Ainar's brother somehow and showed up, and then -" he waves his hand. "So I'd never met him at all."

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"Ohh." Emmalina tries to imagine never having met her father until she was an adult. It won't quite go through. What's a neutral question, here, she doesn't want to push him about this if he doesn't want to talk. "Does that mean the prophecy's fulfilled now?"

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