And then the last check is complete. 

They've been married for four years, now. The other logistics took about as long, but...everything should be ready now... 

(What a terrifying thought.) 

Leareth slumps in the math-avatar-room for a while, and then makes it to the door. :Belrun. We are finished: 

The Queen of Valdemar is there to greet him presently with a celebratory kiss. "The microbe vats are all doing well except the one somebody spilled their beer into, but one vat's within tolerances."

Sigh. "Do we need updated workplace safety rules." 

"It was already against them to have anything intended for human consumption in the staging area! Unfortunately, he was drunk."

"I suppose it is too much to ask that none of my staff in low-skill positions ever be drunk on the job." He scoops her up, kisses her back.

:...I suppose we are just about ready: he sends in Mindspeech. :I am - honestly, quite scared: 

:Scared like you want to hold off another couple months and check more things, or scared like you want me to be holding you while you build the god?:

Deep breath. :- I have already taken months longer than I strictly needed to, and did not find anything new for it. I...think the latter. I am really very sure - the Shadowgod is very sure - it is, just...: 

:Dara can hold down the fort here while I am on snuggle duty:

:Of course she can, because she is wonderful: 

:Do you have a name for your god? So it doesn't wind up going by something silly like "Shadowgod" due to names not being a core divine competency:

:It feels like such a weighty thing to decide! I have mulled on it a little but not settled on anything: 

:Well, I guess we can name it after we meet it if it doesn't have a good idea:

:Fair enough:

Eventually, with some reluctance, Leareth sets his wife down. "I suppose we ought pack. And brief Dara on the plan." 

"It will concern people if we disappear on a trip without explanation. The price of rulership. I'll have Amshalan tell Rolan." She links arms with him and they can go throw stuff into bags for the trip north.

Dara strolls over to knock on the door of their suite while they're still at it. "Damn it, Leareth, you made me lose my bet." 

"What?" 

"When you'd hit all the checkpoints you set at the start, at Midwinter, and you said you were going back to review all of it again. I bet Van you'd take at least another six months of dragging your feet." 

"I didn't realize there were bets riding on this. What else do you bet on?"

"Um," and she looks a bit sheepish, "I miiiight have bet on whether anyone would fall into a vat of food poisoning and die. With Tran, Van wouldn't bet on it but Tran thought you couldn't possibly make good enough safety regulations. I won that one, though. Zero deaths, right? Couple of very embarrassing close calls but everyone got better." 

"I was just telling Belrun, I think it is hopeless to set up systems where none of my janitorial staff will ever go to work drunk." 

"Zero deaths but in a couple cases I have to credit the number of Healers we have running around."

"Well, maybe I thought to take that into account when I made my bet and Tran didn't, so there. He owes me backrubs every night for a week."

"Lucky you. I don't understand why some people apparently have the thought process 'I work at a facility that grows something called "food poisoning" and there's a rule that you can't bring snacks or beverages, but I bet that's a dumb rule'..."

"I don't either! Anyway. I think we're pretty on the same page, but is there anything I should know to keep a particular eye on while you're away?" 

"Keep an eye on the prank war at the mage school, I think the exchange students know what's off limits but I'm not positive."