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someone needs to tell first age exalted ellie and fate that you're not supposed to select the same person for all of "bed, wed, behead"
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Elathea can take over feeding duties if Gleam needs her hands free.

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Sounds like a perfect arrangement. (Kiss.) Frees her up for quite a bit. 

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Hopefully she doesn't get too distracted from the food.

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Not if it's on Elathea's fingers, she won't. 

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Hee.

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She giggles and kisses Elathea. "Another excellent meal."

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Kiss.

"Thank you."

Yawn.

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Nuzzle. "Ready for bed so soon?"

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"It has been a slightly longer day for me than for you."

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"Fair." Soft kiss. "I don't mind sleeping early, though. Get our schedules synced up for a bit."

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"Make some gracious use of Luna's ineffable mutability?"

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Giggle kiss! "Something like that."

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"Shall we make for bed, then?"

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"Only if you carry me."

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She can do that!

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Snuggle! "Got anything other than sleep on the schedule?" she teases.

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"I might be amenable to convincing."

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Wiggle kiss?

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A cogent argument, apparently.

Elathea hurries them along to the comfort of the bed.

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Perfect.

 

Gleam lingers for a long while, exploring the area, talking to Elathea, diving into her library... And whenever Elathea has a stretch of time she can stay hands off, Gleam drags her off to Gleam's own massive sprawl of a realm. There's a great variety of states, as promised - and they're peaceful. Gleam hasn't talked about this as much, but... It's pretty obvious to Elathea that the constant threat of intervention in any attempts at war has very, very neatly solved the security dilemma. No one is dumping all of their state's efforts on guarding against young idiots getting into honor duels, even if those young idiots are statesmen. And the realm's isolation from other Exalts means they haven't just pivoted to have the same arms races with Gleam's nonexistent neighbors, and you have to protect against the wyld, but it's not the type of threat that'll escalate in response to you gathering strength. 

They've been able to put more of their excess towards things that aren't just survival, especially with Gleam placing hyperfertile stretches of land in convenient places. The largest library has an entire wing dedicated to copies of books Gleam wrote, and she's been somehow even more prolific there than Elathea. (Or, well - by the third day staying at Elathea's place, Gleam had started borrowing notebooks and pens, urges coming over her to write and draw and produce in a manic frenzy that could easily last days of very little sleep. Perhaps, then, not so surprising.) Gleam's works spread a much wider - and sometimes stranger - gamut than what Elathea brought. A huge chunk of them are fictional narratives, and some others are journals of 'dreams' - philosophical musings, imagined and whimsical designs for cities that can't and perhaps shouldn't exist, questions that don't have an answer, records of conversations she's had with fey, poetic metaphors of what she's seen in the deep wyld... She has records of folktales she's gathered from people she's known and places she's traveled. Travel guides and ethnographies, a work on how the fey define themselves, engineering and urban design, medicine, grand scale design of entire regions and landscapes... Environment and agriculture, botany and bestiaries, discussions of the impact of the wyld and of Lunar magic on biology... Histories, too. Records, oral histories, and - a small series grappling with history as relayed by Luna, some of it stretching back to before the gods were made, as relayed to Luna by Gaia. The early history of the world is strange and hard to understand, and only distant metaphors have trickled down through the gods - there's information here the Deliberative doesn't have. Either Gleam is being creative, or she's had far longer conversations with Luna - and is better at interpreting and relaying Luna's attempts to grasp the truth of the primordial world - than anyone Elathea's ever seen the writings of.

(Gleam never quite successfully explains the 'truth' Luna showed her about what the bond-spell hooks into, and Elathea hasn't met the goddess yet, but - there's something there. An aching familiarity, sometimes, when Gleam mentions this or that thing.)

The realm could use a bit of help getting ahead on technology, maybe, but for what they do know - they've accomplished a lot, and the population density is likely matched only by the Blessed Isle.

...Well, in places Gleam hasn't wyld shaped. The most impressive is an enormous sea, tucked away very cleverly so it never creates a feeling of unease as you're entering it - the main entrance is a hidden cove down some cliffs, but the sea is only approachable from that direction, and it isn't visible from the air. (Which, given it's bigger than Gleam's entire realm, probably helps not break the brains of any birds.) The water is clear and cool, the air pleasantly laden with salt, and the sand is a glistening white with tumbled gems and colorful shells. Fogs of pink and yellow and blue drift across the sea, and it whips up sometimes into storms of green lightning. Dreams race across it like dolphins, and strange, beautiful creatures live beneath the waves. There's a temple Gleam built on an island, far from the shore, where the determined - not even so much the faithful - can go to face trials, gaining Gleam's blessing if they make it all the way through, granting them a beautiful aquatic form. The forms breed true, and there's quite a large population of not-quite-humans living on and near the sea. (Supplemented, sometimes, by fey who've petitioned for and received Gleam's permission to live in her realm. They're beautiful, too, even if sometimes dangerous - but Gleam's soft claw keeps them from growing too threatening.)

There's less ambitious little pockets, though. Stretches of rainforest, impossible lakes, enormous trees... And more temples spread throughout, the largest and most elaborate the proving grounds of the tiger-priests.

 

It's a wonderful place, and Gleam is adored there, and Elathea then by extension.

 

Gleam unwinds in her realm, her guard against Elathea dropping. She loves this place, these people - and seeing Elathea in it, interacting with her libraries, speaking to her people, looking at the art Gleam's made of the world... 

She falls far more deeply in love than she would have ever anticipated.

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Gleam's realm is fascinating, to say nothing of the woman herself. It is truly a remarkable paradigm she's constructed, and the apparent influence of the wyld sparks a few ideas for her constructions. Elathea's planned five-to-ten year schedule slips into ten-to-fifteen, and she skips the next meeting of the Deliberative in favor of a seaside vacation.

But eventually, she inscribes the final conduit and installs the final channel. To the eyes of the learned, the system lights up with sorcery and the soft hum of circulating power. It is time for her to return to her central manse on the Blessed Isle.

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"Your work's beautiful," Gleam says with a soft smile. And, teasingly: "It's sad someone like you is going to be wasted on the Deliberative."

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"It only meets once every ten years. Plenty of time to pursue our own interests."

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Smile. "And you skipped the recent one... So there's a grace period."

"Still thinking of inviting me on down?"

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"Have I wooed you sufficiently that you'd say yes?"

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