12.01.08 - A Very Special Welcome

Location: Redwall Great Hall

Characters Involved: Lark, Sivaine, Tameus, Nicodemus, Mayeul, Nidlorf

Lark blows in from outside, cloak wrapped tightly around herself. After the door closes she shakes herself free of the cloak, dropping snow and little ice crystals onto the floor before she has a chance to look around.

Sivaine comes up the steps from Cavern Hole, slowly but less carefully than she might otherwise, grumbling to herself about something.

Tameus trots down the steps from the second floor, Taye-doll in the crook of his arm. He looks a little worse for wear but his bruised muzzle tugs into a wide grin when he sees Sivaine, and hop-prances over to her. "Siv!"

"..mutter grumble glorified _bathtowel_ mutter.. oh, Tam." A remarkable change comes over Sivaine; she straightens up and actually manages a warm smile for the little leveret. It falters slightly at the sight of Taye-doll, but quickly recovers. "What's happened to your nose?"

Tameus skitters to a stop in front of Sivaine, beaming up at her despite the damage done to his face. It .. could be worse, anyway. "Got punched in'a face," he tells her with a nod.

Lark looks up at the dibbun as he appears, smiling at the doll... and Siv gets a careful eyeing. "Hey you two," comes at last. "Who punched you, Tam?"

Well, that gets both brows up; Sivaine blinks. "So you.. match your Taye doll?" she asks, before her brain fully accepts that, yes, someone would actually punch Tam. "I mean. By who?"

Sivaine eyes Lark back, briefly. Go on. Say something.

Hmm, too much attention on his nose. Tameus scoops one hand upward to cover it, looking from Sivaine to Lark with his ears giving little twitches. "... some'n," he mumbles, shoulders moving in a shrug. "... mouse. One'a th'.. mice." That narrows it down.

Sivaine's mouth twitches. "One of the mice," she repeats. "Don't want to talk about it then, I'm guessing."

"One'a th'.. twins," Tameus clarifies, gaze up on Sivaine's face now. "I d'nno which, I can't tell 'um 'part."

"Twins. Mice. ... ..the Hewitts?" Sivaine, now with thirty percent more original content. She purses her lips in thought. "What'd Harper.. is that a cricket?" The mousemaid blinks at a little black shape that scuttles between her and the hare.

The leveret's gaze drops, and he gives a solemn nod. "Yes." His muzzle tilts back up and he gives her the sweetest little smile he can muster, with his muzzle looking like it was used for a doorstop.

In from the cold weather with the creaking of wood and howling of wind come Mayeul and Nidlorf, Mayeul in an extra thick cloak provided by Nidlorf and his men, who are not currently with him. The kind stands behind the mouse, and, as Mayeul looks back at him, he waves the mouse to go forth and announce his arrival. Somewhat reserved, Mayeul walks up to the group, clears his throat, and announces, "Er, to all abbey beasts in Great Hall - my lord and master of the house of Nidlorf... Rayuwil the Wise. You may go about your business, he is here to see the abbot - doesn't anybeast know where he may be found?"

Nicodemus looks up in astonishment. "YOu have got to be kidding."

Sivaine has had enough experience with children to know that smiles that sweet mean Something's Up, and she raises a skeptical brow. "..how did you get hit, exact.." She trails off mid-word as the great doors creak open, admitting.. a retinue. It is definitely a retinue. "Ah," she murmurs to herself, sharp eyes picking over the little delegation. A paw motions Tam closer.

Nicodemus shakes his head and raises up from the fireplace. "I am Nicodemus, Abbot of Redwall Abbey."

Tameus is saved from further questioning by whatever just sauntered in through the door. He looks over, ears perked, and comments, "Tha'sa awful funny name." He edges in just a step closer to Sivaine.

Nidlorf comes forward and speaks to the mouse, "No, the mouse has introduced me properly. I am he of whom he speaks. You are Abbot?" The king's helmet is held in one arm as the king sweeps forward. He looks to the tapestry and other things of interest, including the sheer scale of the place, "This is a grand hall, fit for any of the highest caliber to rule. You make a very modest appearance, if I may say so, sir. I am here to pay tribute to a slain hero you have buried here."

"He's a king, Tam," Sivaine says quietly, though her tone is a bit skeptical. "They tend to." Her gaze drifts away from the leveret as Nildorf speaks, and her eyes narrow every so slightly, considering. "So," she looks back down to Tameus, still using hushed tones, "about these crickets.."

Nicodemus tilts his head. "Aye, I am the Abbot. All are welcome here, certainly. We're a very simple order and humility in appearance is our norm. Which grave do you wish to see?"

Too late, Siv. Tam's attention is officially elsewhere. He stares at the.. royal, is it? And shoves Taye-doll at the mousemaid for her to hold. Then the leveret crouches, snatches up the nearest cricket, and shoves this into one pocket while he prances over to where Nidlorf and Nicodemus are talking.

Mayeul sort of half-hides behind Lord Nidlorf, looking anywhere but at the creatures he has become acquainted with... he is nothing but a servant now, and all his dignity is dashed in the presence of the king. He takes the helmet as Nidlorf hands it to him, before the king answers.

Lark reappears out of the kitchen, where she's apparently been snacking, and is still chewing until she sees Mayeul and Nidlorf, at which point there's an audible choking/hacking cough noise to announce her.

"Wh-" Siv starts, suddenly finding herself plus one plush toy. "Tam," she starts, pushing herself off the wall she'd been leaning against with a slight wince and a mutter and moving after the kit at a much slower pace.

"Turmal Fyrpels, brother of my servant and ranger, Mayeul Fyrpels. He has done a great service to our family, by giving dignity to my slain son, and avenging the vermin beast who took his life. I wish to honor this mouse, but I hear he has passed to the dark gates as well." He looks over at Lark briefly, before looking back at the abbot. His paws are at his hips, the only reasonable posture for the royal figure.

Tameus trots over to Nidlorf, reaches up, and tugs on one of the akimbo hands. Tug-tug, and he beams brightly up at the kingly-one.

Nicodemus says, "Ah, Turmal. Yes, he has passed on; the owl which savaged him is with us no longer."

Sivaine's expression goes carefully blank at the mention of Turmal's name, but a wince breaks through a moment later. She tries to catch Lark's eye from across the room.

Mayeul looks down at the floor now, again remembering his brother's death and, for the first time in a while, feels empty and purposeless. He looks worried as the dibbun tugs at Nidlorf...

Lark clears her mouth of nut pieces and looks up, moving into the room and beckoning to Tam as she moves towards Siv, finally glancing up to see Sivaine's look. "Tam, c'mere. Let them talk first."

Tameus says, cheerfully, "Mister 'ighness maj'sty lordship grace ex'llency king .. guy..." He ignores Lark.

Nidlorf, known to those not under his rule as Rayuwil, looks down at Tameus and shoos the dibbun hare away, "Go, go on, off of me... go play!" He looks back at the abbot, "Right Reverend... your owl has been taken down by my sword, so it is /I/ hear. I would like to see his grave as soon as possible." He pulls back from the dibbun, and looks at Mayeul. 'Take care of this', in his eyes.

Tameus is not easily shooed. "I have some'n f' you, sir!" he chirps at the squirrel. "Some'n very very special! A present! T' welcome y'!"

Lark steps forward, bumping Tam's shoulder with a paw and pointing at Siv. "My people found the owl, and it didn't appear to have been killed by the sword wound. It clotted well enough. I'd avoid claiming responsibility for the death of anybeast while standing in an Abbey." While spoken politely, there's no bowing of any sort.

Oh.. no. Sivaine winces, and then winces again - her ribs choose the worst moments to act up. "Tam." She gives the kit a look - 'behave, now' - but not much else, what with having to lean against a chair and all. "Over here."

Nicodemus looks between the squirrels. "I'm simply grateful the owl has been dealt with; it terrorized many and many were involved in finally stopping it's reign. That it's stopped is all of concern to me."

Mayeul kneels down to the hare and smiles, "There, there... my lord would like to accept your gift, after he is done speaking... I would gladly take your offering, little one, if I may then later give it to him?" He hears Lark and dares not question his master's veracity in the matter, so he just shakes his head nervously at her from behind Nidlorf's back.

For a moment Tameus glances at Lark. Unwilling to be deterred from the task of offering the very very special present, he shakes his head at her and Mayuel. "S' more 'mportant 'an talkin'," the leveret insists. "An' on'y /I/ can give 't t' im!"

Nicodemus chuckles at the leveret. "It's amazing how often dibbuns know to skip past hte silly walls of precedence that adults build around themselves."

Tameus points at Nicodemus, never mind he doesn't know what precedence is. "'xactly what 'e said!"

Expressing distain at the other squirrel's percieved insolence, Nidlorf answers, "Well, I guess then the owl just ran into a tree, then? Who, may I ask, are you, anyway?" With his particular expression and attire, the squirrel doesn't look very friendly at the moment.

Lark gives the squirrel king a little bow, but curtly. "My name is Lark. I was raised in the Abbey, and some of my clan were those archers already on the scene when you arrived. And I am sorry you dislike not being the source of a beast's demise, but since the body was not buried, all that you will get of it is what I saw, or my clan-cousin, who found him."

Lark takes a little step towards Nicodemus, flanking the Abbot almost as Mayeul had entered with Nidlorf.

Mayeul looks at the hare with growing worry - hoping this present is not something disgusting or naughty, at the /very least/. At the very worst, it would completely offend the king and Mayeul will be blamed and exiled. He sighs. That isn't likely, though, with the king's pity of him over recent events. At least Lord Nidlorf has a heart. Somewhere. "Then I would wait, young one, until the king is finished, which should be shortly." Nidlorf has a heart, but he isn't the type to take dibbuns on his knee.

Tameus shrugs at Mayeul - he's not important - and reaches again to tug at Nidlorf's hand. "Th' present's more 'mportant 'an talkin' he tells the king seriously, "an' you'd be very /rude/ 'f y' didn' take 't."

Nicodemus looks at the king, "You are certainly welcome to visit the graveyard. I'm sure you'll find other beasts attending to their loved ones as well."

Nicodemus points to the leveret, "And lad, courtesy is another gift you can give that is always appreciated. I'm sure there will be those who explain that -- hopefully in ways less unpleasant than you can discover from it's lack."

Tameus is distracted enough to look at Nicodemus, grin, and .. salute him. "Right-o, mister abbot!"

Nicodemus mutters, "And less unpleasant than I learned it."

Lark flicks her eyes sideways at the Abbot's mutter, but smiles at Tam. "Thank you, Tameus. We appreciate it."

Nicodemus says, "Now, Sir, as all in the Abbey, partake of the hospitality."

Nicodemus stretches briefly. "I must bid you all a good evening; merry part." He bows to the tapestry.

Lark gives the abbot the same bow she gave Nidlorf, but far more freely. "G'd evenin', Father Abbot."

Nidlorf nods and bows, "I shall look for-- it-- myself." saying this as he side-steps away from the dibbun tugging at him. "My servant should know where it lies, and if he doesn't, he will inquire about its location." He places extra emphasis on 'my servant', as if calling him out of hiding and on his failure to restrain the dibbun. "Thank you, Abbot Nicodemus. I am sure I will be met with the finest in such a place as this. Have a pleasant rest of the evening."

Nicodemus turns briefly, "Do not worry, Sir, all are accommodated equally."

Tameus clears his throat - politely - at Nidlorf. "Ahem-hem."

Nidlorf stares, puzzled, at this. What of the poorer beasts, those that serve the food and work the fields? And kings? Treated the /same/? "My lad, /WHAT IS IT?/" The king bends over and looks down at the dibbun, virtually nose to nose, eyes large and unblinking.

Lark straightens from her bow as the Abbot disappears, and turns to look back at Nidlorf and Mayeul. "If there is anything you need, please feel free to ask." Then she turns to head for Sivaine, pointing. "I can see that wince. Sit. Or I'll carry you." There's a spin back to face Nidlorf, though, when he snaps at Tam.

Tameus takes a moment to stare back at the king, not shying away. His hand slides into his pocket, he scoops up the cricket hidden therein - and this is perched daintily on the top of Nidlorf's muzzle. "Here," he states with a bright smile, "have a cricket!"

Mayeul's life flashes before his eyes as he stands dumbly aside... the dibbun taking the ugly, dirty thing out of his pocket and placing it /on/ Nidlorf! Oh, what shame Mayeul has brought upon his king! He stifles a laugh, to himself, but thinks about his king's wrath and no longer has the urge.

"Gah," Sivaine groans under her breath, pushing herself off the chair. "I don't need to you play nursemaid," she directs at Lark, before pushing herself forward for the group. "Excuse me-" She's slow-going, but her eventual goal is to make a grab for the back of the dibbun's shirt. "_Tam,_" she huffs. "With me. Now."

Tameus eases back a tiny step, watching Nidlorf. That sweet, sweet, beaming smile is still present.

Nidlorf's nose tingles, as he stares dumbstruck at the 'gift' perched there. His eyes widen and the king *flicks* the thing off, a calm expression, even amused, crossing his face. "Well, isn't that charming. The things dibbuns do, right? Mayeul, with me. Now."

Tameus's expression darkens. "How dare y' flick off m' present!" he huffs at the squirrel. "How /dare/ y'!"

Grab. Snatch. If Sivaine can't get the collar, she'll settle for a suspender. Headfur down, arm in a sling.. oh, yeah, she's threatening all right.

Lark hurries over to Tam's side, throwing a glance at Mayeul that's calm and concerned at the same time. "Tameus, what happened to the Abbot's suggestion of courtesy? Crickets on beasts' faces is /not/ courteous, now, is it?" She glances at Siv, then back at Nidlorf and Mayeul, not sure which pair she'd rather keep her eye on.

Tameus grunts and pulls forward against the clutch on the back of his shirt. "Cour'sy! I gave 'im a /present/ an' 'e /flicked/ /'t/ /off/!" He scowls at Nidlorf. "You're not a /king/, you're.. you're.. not even s' good 's a /cricket/!" Mutter mutter.

Nidlorf smiles and ruffles the dibbun's headfur. He looks at Sivaine, "Miss, is he your charge? I would keep a tighter leash on the fellow, or he might never grow up to be a respectful, responsible young mouse as you have shown /yourself/ to be." Sarcastic? Maybe...? Ouch.

If Sivaine were well, she'd scoop the leveret up and frog-march him over to Cavern Hole for a good talking-to about why crickets and kings don't mix. Somewhat stooped to keep a strong hold on Tam's shirt collar, she looks up at Nidlorf through a fall of errant headfur. "Sir, he is not," she replies, face ashen and drawn; her tone is cool, taking on a musical murmuring note. "But I thought it best to remove him from your kingly presence."

Tameus bares his teeth. He has either taken this as a grave offense, or is just really enjoying himself. "Jus' y' wait!" he tells Nidlorf. "Jus' y' wait til /I'm/ abbot! Til /I'm/ th' Bes' Long Patrol 'Are Ever! Then you'll be sorry y' ever did that t' my cricket!!"

"Will you stop dithering about my ribs and _help me,_" Sivaine practically snaps at Lark. The trials of having one arm.

Lark is stooping to help just as Sivaine snaps at her. "Tam, stop. You are the one being rude now, and you'll nver be Abbot or a Long Patroller if you can't be nice to allbeasts, no matter what." One arm is placed in front of the dibbun, no further forward motion permitted, and her other paw hovers, ready to pick him up at his next offense.

Tameus grunts and extends his tongue to liiick Lark's arm. That'll teach her!

Mayeul follows his king, trying to explain, "Sire, I only wanted to be delicate with the dibbun... he was very persistent..." The mature mouse is not snivelling or making excuses; he is beside his lord now, offering his sincere regret for the king's embarrassing encounter with the little hare, "Perhaps it is an honor in the abbey to recieve such a gift?" He tries, but the king ignores him as they walk over to sit. Nidlorf picks out what he thinks is the most regal-looking chair, an awkward task for a king who is used to having his own, distinguished seat.

"Enough." Sivaine moves backwards at a slow pace to drag the leveret with her. It's quite close to the proper posture for leaving the presence of a monarch, and completely unintentional. "With me," she repeats, casting a glance to the stairs. Harper? He's latched on to you; he's supposed to be your problem.

"Okay, that's quite enough out of you, Tam," says Lark, sweeping up the leveret as Siv backs up, and without the slightest notice of the licking. "Now, I believe Sivaine has a few things to say to you?" She looks at Sivaine, then pointedly glances at the kitchen, stairs, then the cavern hole, and shrugs.

Tameus continues to scowl at the squirrelly royal, until he's dragged back further and loses interest. The leveret turns, beaming, to face Sivaine. "Well 'e won't f'get /me/ f' a while!" Chipper as ever.

Lark .. gets a more stern look from Tam. "Light'n up," is all he says to her.

Nidlorf says to Mayeul, finally, adopting a softer expression, "Old friend... you have been a worthy servant to our family, not only to me; to my son when he was with us, and my wife as well. I should not expect so much that is not necessary. We shall find your brother's grave, and you shall mourn and I, pay hommage. Your brother did well, Mayeul. He is probably the pride of this entire abbey..." The king smiles genuinely, albeit somewhat ignorant of the mouse's legacy.

Sivaine's expression is stormy. "Forgettability is more valuable than you might think, my young buck," she replies with a twitch of her nose. She looks at Lark, then over to the stairs. 'Up,' she mouths. Her eyes close briefly, as she can't help but overhear certain conversations, and she starts for the stairs herself, trusting Lark to follow. "Definitely up."

The kit's expression loses its cheeriness in the face of Sivaine's .. not-cheeriness. He actually pouts a little, tugs from her, and goes up the steps himself. Crickets skitter out of his way.

Mayeul doesn't argue over the truth of his brother's legacy, but knows his king is under the wrong impression. "Yes, you are generous and kind, my lord. That would put both of our minds at ease, I think... but... I wanted to tell you something. Regarding what my brother, er... made me promise before he... died."

Lark sighs, belatedly following - moving past the fireplace to the stairs, then looks up towards the mousemaid. "You want help with all that, or shall I stay and, er... entertain... our guests?"

"I'll be all right," Sivaine grunts, brushing a cricket off her shoulder as she follows Tam at a slower pace, ears angled back. Ow. Ow.