A New Era Begins

[rassafraggin]

From Rebma Palace minarets stream pennants almost half again the height of the castle, pulled into snaps and languid ripples by the overhead small currents. Their royal colours, white waves on a blue field can be discerned from as far as the city's gates, greeting the eyes of travelers from the settlements and ancestral holdings. This grand visual affirmation may be why the groups proceed through the capital to wend their way up the slope of the undersea mountain to join the multitudes already gathered beyond the Upper City. There, the excited chatter rises further, the enchanted waters surrounding the palace fairly vibrate with it.

Within the hall of the Deep Throne, among the noble house representatives, the courtiers and vassals, the military officials and religious leaders, the mood is expectant yet respectfully reined in. The banners are louder, flowing from the rails of the house balconies and the long pikes of those occupying their designated floor space. On the dais, the pearly crest of the Royal House of Lir gleams from the seeming thousands dots of light strewn across the tall, arched ceiling, twinkling like stars. Garlands of kelp like golden fire consume the marble pillars, flickering, alive.

The court ministers occupy their traditional seating off to the left of the dais, while the high clergy in their ceremonial garb stand gravely to the right. On the far end of the latter stands the child-acolyte, Faiella. High above the magnificent coral throne, in an alcove enclosed by a juliette balcony, a complement of royal musicians lead up to the royal anthem with dignified vignettes honouring the various Rebman noble houses, the nations of the undersea empire, and the allied realms in attendance.

Miriam is where she's supposed to be, smiling as she waits for the Queen's arrival. She speaks quietly with a few courtiers, the conversation light and pleasant as she also looks about to see who is in attendance.

Quinlan arrives late, and out of breath. He's given court attire a miss, probably because Pathian court attire and Rebma mix like Hellenic statuary and a wind machine. Which would have been a not-terrible idea, except the mageling forgot to leave his bookbag behind. Triton guards, who had every reason to think 'empty your bookbag' would be a simple and straightforward affair, learn very quickly that this is in no way the case. A quite large table has to be brought in just to put things on, and there are several whispered rounds of 'wait what is THAT' with regard to various peculiarly shaped (but sealed) boxes, bottles, and phials. Thankfully it's all quiet, and all well at the back by the doors. Once it's clear Quinlan isn't intending to blow up the Palace, or unleash eldritch abominations on it, or shake cans of caffeinated yellowish drinks at it, it's another few minutes to put all the things BACK in the bag. By which time Quinlan is more than happy to find a corner to hide in and hope the evening doesn't get worse.

Amy is wearing mostly Rebman attire, but she also has a small tiara, indicative of her position. She follows any instructions she's been given, to end up where she needs to be.

Celeste arrives in human form as part of Duchess Mandrake's retinue, or perhaps they are all part of Queen Amethyst's retinue-Mandrake hierarchy gets confusing FAST! She remains near at hand, unarmed and dressed (and desced) for court but posed as if she were on guard. Old Habits.

Dashton Feldane had arrived promptly, as if it were a family working lunch, and promptly blended in with the others. This in spite of the fact that he is wearing what would ordinarily be considered formal attire for above the waves, save with an extra dash of silver embroidery work, darker and deeper colors of blue, and an ornament about his walking cane that is polished to a high shine. An Amber gentleman aristocrat, through and through. As always, the name of the game for a gentleman in formal attire is to keep the attention on the one who accompanies him...

Quina has dressed for Rebma. She's in a modest suit that shows her physique much better than her usual choice of clothing, and in the company of several other Mandrake. She moves alongside Celeste as they are shown to a suitable place.

Murdoch tilts his face upwards to take in the decoration as he stands within the throne room. His hands are clasped behind the small of his back. His garments are white and utilitarian. Somewhere akin to an oriental tunic, with a high collar. The material is not so thick as to inhibit the fellow if it's time to swim rather than stand. Apart from a single ocular lens on the end of a chain, he's free of embellishments. His hair however is another matter. The blue hair along his temples has got quite the shimmer. All is slicked back and held in place by some composition that's rather useful for underwater life and people fond of their reflection.

Aurora is dressed white trunks and her hair woven with seashells and strings of silver allowing her hair to safeguard her modesty infront of her very dapper if old fashioned companion. Mismatched eyes flit about those gathered. Interestingly her attention is on the locals while anyone from anywhere not Rebma is overlooked.

Wulf is wearing very rebman attire, in that there's virtually nothing to it. It means he's streamlined at least and had tied back his hair in braids and a knot to keep it from becoming medusalike underwater. The frost giant keeps at the back though, as viewing the proceedings is hardly difficult from up there in the upper waters, right? His ink, almost never seen, is on full display. Because the shorts cover very, very little.

While no special seating has been designated, young pages set to scrying the incoming have singled out their targets and now deploy into the gathering. Five of them thread their respective way to hover deferentially at the elbows of Murdoch, Dashton, Amethyst, Celeste, and Quinlan. There they remain like barnacles, vowing quietly to guide their charges towards the dais when it is time.

A few other aides continue to monitor the entrance, waiting.

Aurora offers an encouraging smile to Dashton and looks over the page assigned to him briefly then she studies those positioned at the dais MOST carefully before her gaze goes back to browsing over the crowd.

Dashton charts his coarse through the room carefully, barely casting a ripple as he goes. Testing his page a little? Perhaps! The Feldane looks over those gathered, eventually finding a more agreeable position from which to observe the dais. Looking over to Aurora, a warm smile forms and he leans in to whisper something to her.

Wulf nods toward Celeste in one of the woman's eyeball passes on her On-guard habituals. He gives her a smile also, though attempts to not get in the way otherwise. Mostly he succeeds, but there are a couple of shuffles about before he's not occluding someone's view.

Quinlan isn't sure what to do with his page - so many options negated by the poor kid wanting to do a Perfect Job - and settles for doing as the page suggests. Anything to keep the page calm and unfluttered.

Moving with a quiet grace and unaccompanied at the moment, Vialle step-glides into the room. She wears a brown and orange outfit of Rebman cut, suitably bedecked with amber and pearls. Her hair has been done up in a simple coil equally spangled. When the press of the crowd is felt, she angles to one side, possibly aiming for the curved stairs up to the balcony above.

Melina enters and is torn by the desire to remain unobtrusive but also actually see which given her height is a challenge. She eventually succeds in finding a spot in the middle of the foreign guests section with a clear sight line

Murdoch turns and offers a practiced smile to the young official assigned to him. "Good day." He takes the opportunity to polish his monocle while he establishes some pleasant small talk with them. Almost as if he really enjoys the sound of his own voice, commenting rather than asking questions. "It feels positively positive in here. Who would have thought this day would come.. Mm."

One of the unattached pages, upon spying Maggie, winnows with relief and takes a sidling path through the gathering to intercept and whisper in her ear.

There is no need for reruns of musical themes, as the hall begins to ring with ecstatic exclamations at the stroke of the eventide hour, when the Queen's Court commences immediately. Prince Martin arrives, a broad and blithe grin dressed in shining blue scale vest and trunks, brightening the archway and drawing stares. He turns his arm out courteously and his grandmother glides into view beside him, slender hand lifted to rest across his wrist. Her Royal Majesty has arrived -- in the flesh. Preceded by swelling Siren song which seamlessly joins with the stately anthem, the Queen Regnant and Crown Prince proceed upon the tiled path onto the rounded steps towards the throne...

whereupon Martin pivots to bow before her, kiss her hand in his, then take the requisite two steps back before turning to join his princess bride. Those Rebmans seated, have risen. Those standing, stand taller, possibly lift off and float for some seconds. All.. that is, *most*.. in attendance now receive their first glimpse of Moire in seven years.

Celeste's gaze hitches and lingers on Wulf, smiling and forgetting where her gaze us SUPPOSED to be. At the commotion heer gaze whips around and she adopts an appropriate posture and expression. Totally not staring at the halfnaked giant in the back.

When the Queen appears, escorted by her grandson, Miriam smiles more brightly. Already standing, she watches the procession, her pleasure at seeing the Queen at Court in her own form obvious. And once Martin moves to her side, she takes her husband's hand in hers.

Maggie steps into the throneroom in time to see Martin escort his grandmother, her Royal Majesty, Moire in and send her to her seat. Her smile is instant and warm. She does not linger overly long at the door, but fades into the throng near the back, certain to get a place where she can see the goings on. Maggie glances down at the page, her smile easy. She nods, accepting his assistance easily. Then her attention returns to the dias.

Rising when those around her do, Vialle tilts one ear toward the dias, waiting for the first words to be spoken. Her hands fold together before her, as though to help contain her inner glee.

The Queen's arrival causes Duchess Mandrake's posture to straighten further in respect for Moire. She watches the move towards the throne, attentive and quiet.

Martin smiles so proudly at his grandmother he just might burst. He couldn't smile more if he tried! It had been way too long and too much speculation. He'd held things together by the skin of his teeth in some cases. He waves at people he knows and to the general crowd. To his wife, he smiles fondly, squeezing her hand.

Wulf grins briefly at the look he received from Celeste, then turns eyes to the arrival of the queen and crown prince. It's a first for him, at least, watching the aristocratic procession. His arms fold over his chest, adopting a look of determination though, as if he refuses to let anything fly over his head.

Murdoch turns his attention upon Moire and Martin. The Crown Prince's visible emotion is noted, which causes Murdoch to feel the corners of his own mouth twitch upwards. He moves position to peer past others in attendance, settling on a place a few paces away with a slightly better vantage.

Amy is all attentive, a smile on her face. She's somewhat relaxed though, at ease in court and in Rebma both. She glances to the page who comes her way, giving the young one a nod.

Klytus merely remains close to Aurora and Dashton, and keeps his attention focused on the room at large. He whispers occasionally to Aurora and Dashton, but engages no one else for now except a brief nod of greeting if eye contact is made.

The palace steward, spotting Vialle unattended, slips discretely to her side and murmurs his presence to her, before offering to escort her to an eminent position with the executive council.

Unbound, Moire's hair fans out a few paces behind her like trailing skirts, the ends gathered into a line of silver chain netting to keep the mass from floating freely. Two handmaidens walk to either side, but once they are no longer required, they fade back, one to either side of the great hall with the stationed royal guard. Moire takes herself sedately the rest of the way to the throne amid song and scattered salutations, her serene glance the only acknowledgement given and indeed anticipated by those experienced in the deep courts of old.

Melina watches with a genuine interest and small smile, the celebratory mood somewhat catching despite relative lack of personal stake in the proceedings, perfectly willing to accept this as ocasion for joy unless events prove it otherwise

Vialle smiles at the Steward and nods her thanks. One hand untwists from the other and lifts to about chest height to allow the man to take it and lead her to her place.

Aurora's mismatched gaze stops scanning the crowd and settle attentively on the Queen taking her rightful place.

Dashton brightens as he sees Moire enter the throne room. Hazel eyes track her along walk to her place at the throne, settling there with her as the proceedings begin.

Moire turns to face the hall, and her mane warps into a twist that gracefully unwinds and spreads again behind her, expansively mirroring her own regal presence... commanding the silence which now falls. The High-Priestess Lady Dryssana, a towering old Rebman with the proudest posture of all, leaves the assembled line of clergy with significant steps. She steps to the dais and faces Moire on her left, then sweeps slowly into a reverent genuflection. Remembrance of tradition spurred by this gesture, the noble Rebmans and the Deep Peoples present ripple into their own displays of respect and fealty.

As does Martin. One does not ignore Lady Dryssana if one wants to keep one's vitals intact. He bows his head in reverence to her. Once he straightens, he makes significant eye contact with every individual he knows from the realms above the waters. Thus assuring them of his pleasure at their attendance. He then turns his full attention back to the throne.

Miriam follows the show of respect by the High Priestess, bending along with the peoples of Rebma. Her expression has become more serious as she focuses on the Queen.

Aurora tilts her head and watches the Lady Dryssana thoughtfully as proceedings unfold, one hand gently resting on Dashton's arm though her gaze does slide over to rest briefly on Klytus as he's softly addressed.

Vialle hears the hush of movement, feels the shifting in the waters. She thanks the gentleman who escourted her to her place quietly and turns her attention again to the dias. Her bow is regal but not that of one queen to another. She is Moire's subject and the depth of her bow shows her respect.

When the people of Rebma bow to their Queen, Quina dips as well. It's not as deep as Moire's subjects, but certainly a very suitable show of respect from the Duchess of a Great House of Amber to the restored Queen of Rebma.

Watching from the back, Maggie's smile remains warm, her attention focused. She draws in a slow breath as Moire captures the hearts and imaginations of the crowds with only the aide of her presence and that glorious hair. She does incline her head in respect and delight should she have the chance.

Murdoch follows suit, showing his respect by giving a bow from his position within the crowd. Joining the wave or ripple of such. The Queen's hair which is very apparent, is entrancing.

Dashton watches as the High-Priestess moves and bows before Moire. The Feldane gentleman joins in with the others in bowing before the Queen to show his heartfelt respect on this most momentous occasion.

Wulf moves with the masses, though it's a little belated, catching up to the plot as it were. He bows his head and light from the waist.

Amy catches her brother's glance, as she inclines her head politely. There is a definite sense of pride and respect, as she watches. She's quite content to stay in her spot by the page, glad to see Moire back where she belongs.

Celeste bows deeply if a bit stiffly, allowing a smile to the queen, she remains bowed low until addressed.

Moire gazes upon this moment, with a calm understanding of the need for ceremony, the energy and emotion being generated by this one shared movement in the deep hall. A few heartbeats pass, each one perhaps louder than the next in every inner ear.

Then she sinks, amid a soft current which arranges her tresses around her, and takes her seat. Once the undulations of the gathering regain a certain equilibrium, she looks to the palace aides as yet unbarnacled, and speaks. Her voice is an aptly deep timbre, sonorous, all at once projected throughout the great tall chamber, as her lips move with a clipped eloquence.

"Go out now, and tell all those good and faithful people on the hill, that I, Queen Moire of the Royal House of Lir, have, as my whole self, been restored to my own divine and rightful seat. When my dear grandson as Lord Regent, took this realm in his arms, the waters were dark and ailing. His rule, his love for Rebma, the deeds of all those who such love inspired, have raised Rebma from the edge of the Abyss. Only these things could restore the blood of Lir, divinely linked to the Sea. And for these things, let us now give thanks."

Martin lifts his head briefly only to revere the Queen's words with a respectful tilt of his head again in deference to her. Pleased, proud and with good cause to be so he remains regal himself. A far cry from the boy who returned to Rebma all those years ago with a divided heart.

Miriam listens to the Queen, and when Moire speaks of Martin's efforts she smiles again to her husband. His hand is squeezed, her expression showing very well the depth of her feelings for him.

Murdoch bows his head once more, to show his respect for the deeds done for the realm. As he straightens, his eyes fall upon Martin once more standing next to his wife. His own gaze adding to numerous others. Feel the pressure of so many eyes!

High-Priestess Dryssana has since returned to her place at the forefront of the clergy. She inclines her head in acknowledgment of the truths of the declaration, though her mouth is curved in a hard frown as she considers the once-Regent-now-Heir. When the appointed palace staff have hurried away from the hall to inform the waiting public, her piercing regard now snaps out over the hall, singling out precisely those faces -- and so many of them glaringly non-Rebman! -- belonging to Martin's cadre of rogues. Unusual Suspects.

Vialle's smile remains as she lifts her head. Her attention remains on the Queen, though that is difficult to be certain of for her eyes never focus. That Martin is singled out heightens her delight and warms her smile. Such a good bo... er... young man.

Aurora's veiled gaze is focused on that priestess, it's hard to see from afar if she looks towards or at the priestess from the veil tied around her eyes though there's a serene smile on her stained lips.

Melina moves her gaze from Moire to Martin as she speaks, marveling for a moment at the show of respect between the two. she softy looking over the crowd before happening to catch the piercing gaze of the high preistess. a rueful look comes to her eyes as her lips twitch and she sighs again. a study in comparison and contrast

Celeste straitens when Moire speaks and listens attentively, the stern priestess ignored in favor of the queen and the royal family.

Wulf's stoic concentration takes a new turn. Now, he looks at the clusters of rebman royalty and aristocracy, the priesthood, the visiting dignitries and diplomats, favoured of the court and otherwise, up and around the pageantry and spleandor of the throne room with his lips in a thin, hard line with his efforts. His gaze is frank though and he doesn't look away from any that catch his regard, on his way back to looking at the throne and its occupant.

Quina is also focused more on Rebma's royal family than on the clergy, and there is a nod of respect given towards the Crown Prince in recognition of his service to the people of Rebma.

Maggie leans against the back wall, her arms folding in front of her body. It is a bit of a reclining position where she can watch the crowd. Her attention, however, remains focused forward.

Moire doesn't appear to have noticed any unease or disapproval that may be evident or concealed among the gathering. But then, her expression has remained in that pleasant neutral setting even throughout the good vibes. She speaks again:

"The Deep Throne of Rebma calls now upon those who were entreated to work their skills and their arcane wisdom in healing upon my body, which lay between sleep and death."

At this cue, the young pages flutter into action, tugging at Celeste, Amethyst, and Quinlan, directing them out of the herd with barely restrained enthusiasm. To the dais with them, even the currents seeming to assist. Even the volume of gazes and the ambient whispers, hemming them in, crowding them forth.

Quinlan has stayed quiet and out of the way, but apparently regards the excited fluttering of the page in about the same manner as one might a puppy who TOTALLY CORNERED THIS BABY BUNNY YO. So he obediently follows his page (and the instructions thereof) up to the dais, giving the Queen a passably courtly bow.

Celeste moves to follow her page, lanky form moving easily through the water though she brings up the rear anyway.

Celeste bows deeply to the queen as well.

It's not like Amy would object, not exactly. She chuckles softly at the young page, letting herself be tugged and fuffled along to the dais, apparently in between Quinlan and Celeste. She offers a very respectful acknowledgement of royal to royal, given this is Moire's territory. The younger queen may have practiced. Quinlan gets a faint moment of a mischievous grin from his cousin, and that is all.

Martin casts a glance around the room again very briefly, his attention back to Moire and then to the ones being led by the pages. He regards them all with a warm smile. All of them heroes in his eyes.

Klytus has steadily paid more attention to the surroundings than to the ceremony. Now though his face has a decidedly curious look to it as his attention periodically goes towards apparently nothing.

Murdoch nods his head, in respect. Watching the trio move to the dais. Reputations no doubt precede them and he peers, quite interested. There are some quiet murmurs about him from the crowd as well, passing gossip that touches upon each. He makes like a sponge and absorbs, having names to put to some of the faces.

Dashton watches with some amusement as enthusiastic pages work at herding their assigned targets toward the dais. To those he knows, he dips his head in a small bow as a wordless greeting to each on their way up to be recognized. Keeping his focus ahead, he leans to the side toward his page and whispers a suggestion his way.

Maggie's gaze flickers over the crowd, singling out Amy first, then Quinlan and Celeste for smiles. In passing, she spots Aurora and Dashton, then Murdoch. Each are given a quick smileing nod, though as she is against the back wall, they would be forgiven for not seeing it.

Moire's gaze falls on all three honoured candidates with perhaps a tad more lingering study than could be called familiar recognition. Whatever passes behind her mask of elegant calm, she only nods to their respectful gestures and says, "The Sacred Laws of the Sea demand that Rebmans understand the sanctity of their bodies and lives. And all who have lived through the devastation of war and cataclysm understand all too well how easily they can be lost. But few shall realize the true depths of your struggles to reverse those ravages upon the very Sea... if only enough to renew the strength of this, my true and lawful body. For this, Lady Celeste de'Mandrake; Amethyst de'Mandrake, Queen of Kitezh; and Lord Quinlan du Naji of Pathi; I bestow my personal favour, so that all of Rebma may know and honour you."

Celeste bows again deeply, "I am honored and humbled, your majesty-no reward rivals your safe return to your rightful place."

Martin proudly watches the friends of rebma receive favor from the Deep Queen. True friends of Rebma, all. He has a special wink for his sister.

Wulf's jaw clangs open about now, for some reason or another. The giant is simply flabberghasted there at the back, eyeing the back of Celeste's head.

"Thank you, your majesty," Amy says, soberly. "It is indeed an honour to have assisted in some small way in your return." A nod to Celeste there. She keeps it short and sweet, only flashing a grin at her brother at the end.

Vialle listens, a quiet smile settling on her features. Each is given a respectful, highly fond nod as they are announced. Pride in friends and family fairly radiates from her.

Dashton gives the room another appraising glance and catches the smiling nod from Maggie. The Feldane's smile warms to something more personal as he dips his head in reply and holds it there a moment before looking back to the dais to watch the recognition being offered to each of those involved in healing the Queen's body.

Quina's expression shows affection for and pride in the three being honored, and she smiles as they are presented Moire's personal favor.

Maggie's attention returns to the dais in short order as Moire's voice is heard. Her smile softens where she stands, enjoying the acclaim that each is afforded. Briefly, she slips a glance to the left and right, seeking to gauge the reception of the crowd. So far, everyone seems mostly pleased and that is good.

Quinlan clearly has no idea what to do here, so waits to take his cue from the others that were called. When it's his turn, he offers, "Thank you. It's an honor." Which hopefully doesn't sound too terribly awkward.

Miriam certainly looks pleased, and nods as the three are singled out for the Sea's favor.

A page approaches Martin and presents him with a be-jeweled box with Moire's symbol upon it. He nods to the page, extracts his hand from Princess Miriam. He gives her a quick kiss on the forehead, then takes the box from the page to proceed with the ceremony. To Moire he bows first then he turns back to the audience to display the contents of the box. In the box are three delicate favors. Each token is a delicately crafted gilded fish scale shaped from abalone shell. He approaches Celeste first, out of reverence to her being the elder and offers one to her. "My Lady, you have ever been Rebma's friend. Thank you. From my heart for your efforts in returning my grandmother to Rebma whole."

Celeste bows deeply again, keeping her eyes averted from shinies, omg shinies infront of mandrakes infront of people. Do NOT BLOW IT! She bows and murmurs appropriate reverent thanks as she accepts such a lofty honor.

The Palace's glassite outer walls are thrumming with the swell of vocal excitement which has commenced from those gathered by the courtyard, as the Queen's words are relayed. That noise filtering in is summarily canceled by the murmurs of Rebmans and representatives of the undersea's numerous other races, coming to comprehend the admiration and respect that is due these unlikely air-breathing individuals.
A ripple of approval filters through most of the crowd. Even the representatives of House Ygrayne nod here and there.

Martin smiles brightly and his next target is his little sister. Beautiful Queen and like the first recipient Powerful dragon and gentle healer. "My dear sister. I hope you know how much I value you." He offers her the token. "I never thought to have such a connection with a sibling as I do you. Your efforts on behalf of Rebma will always be in my heart. Thank you, my Grandmother has been gone too long and the Sea already swells with her return."

Was the Penglai late? In a way, he was. Somewhere in the crowd, someone Shao paid for kept him hidden. The accomplice, a rebman woman dressed in diaphane silks and pearls, holds a wooden box that was party submerged at an angle that suggests it was found in wrecked ship. From that spot in the second row, Shao and the rebwoman could watch the ceremony unsuspected until that very moment. The lady in tull lets the box slowly fall to the floor and leaves. Shao appears where the box was left to the surprise of the few who notice.

Wulf lets a very soft (for him) whoop out, for Celeste and Amethyst. Even if disapproving eyes look his way, the man's recovered his jaw and is grinning fit to split his face in half, giving the waters a solid fistpump.

Amy's smile shows the return affection for her brother. She accepts the token with grace, inclining her head. "I am honoured," she says simply first. "It is my pleasure to have been able to assist. You know I would do it again." She pauses and then adds, very softly, so softly that hopefully only Martin understands. Heck, it might even be in an obscure code that only she and Martin know at this point. "And when this is done, I have a hug for my big brother, just waiting. Maybe with a visit to the best cheeseburger bar in existence, hmm?"

Maggie darts a grin at Wulf from where she leans. Pretty much in complete agreement there. Turning back, she spots a familiar Penglai gentleman in the second row. Another smile, then, for Shao's appearance. Then back to the dias with the dignitaries and honorees.

Martin beams at her. "It's a date." He whispers softly. "Thank you, truly, sister." Then he moves to Quinlan. Last but not least. The man who knows too much but that's okay because he's on our side and he has matching shoes at least. "My dear cousin. Again you find yourself here before the throne to receive favor of the court. You were instrumental in the return of my grandmother to her rightful place and true body. I shall never forget. Thank you from my heart." He offers Quinlan the token with a warm smile.

When Wulf can't refrain from making that joyful noise, Quina smiles and seems to echo the sentiment. Only inwardly, though. She makes no noise.

Quinlan accepts it with a little laugh. "Thank you. Though it's pure luck about the shoes, you know."
Soft applause sounds in a gentle swell that radiates from one end of the court to the other and carries out into the throng gathered outside.

Martin steps back and bows to the Queen with finesse. He hands the box back to the page and returns to his Princess' side.

Miriam joins in the applause, enthusiastically celebrating the three. When Martin returns to her side, he gets another smile.

Maggie pushes from the wall and adds her applause to the rising tumult.

Murdoch adds his polite applause to the trio honored.

Smiling warmly, Dashton joins in with the applause without delay. A strong, yet modest showing. He continues to beam while looking about the room at the wonderful reception everyone has received.

Moire watches all this from her throne, solemn, as these shiny tokens are promises, of appreciation, of friendship, of the integrity of the royal house. She nods to the three magi, allowing them to depart the dais for their preferred positions. Then she speaks again:

"Now called before the Deep Throne are those who have, under the approving gaze of the Sea and the keepers of the one true religion, achieved a monumental undertaking. A miracle.

Flutter time! The pages dogging Dashton and Murdoch eagerly perform their duties, escorting them to the front of the dais to receive the rest of the Queen's speech up close and personal. She looks upon them, lingering once again on one, then the other man's features.

"In removing my presence from the vessel.. and ensuring the recovery of the Lord Warden of the Deep to this vessel.. to reunite me with my true form, you have not only restored a Queen to her empire, but have dealt a blow against the darkness which has attempted yet failed to undermine the restoration of Rebma. For all this, Lord Dashton of Feldane; and Lord Murdoch of Rebma; I bestow my personal favour, so that all of Rebma may know and honour you."

Now part of the crowd, Shao joins in the applause like he belongs. His immediate neighbors gave up on frowning at him, a little busy bowing for Moire - in search of those semi-precious stones the Penglai 'accidentally' dropped.

All done, and Amy flutters her way back to find a spot near to Vialle. She cheers along with everyone else for the next batch of award recipients.

Martin grins at the two men, proud of them for their efforts. He claps his hands, not personally knowing the two but aware certainly of their efforts. The Prince most certainly has his eye on you boys for future shenanigans and daring do's.

Hearing the other two names mentioned, Vialle leans a little forward. Familiar with the gentlemen, but with little personal experience of them, she listens eagerly for their voices. As Amy flutters closer, she reaches out to touch her step-daughter's arm then leans closer to whisper something no doubt of the proud mom variety.

Approving gaze. Dashton Feldane manages to hold his warm smile as is, without showing even a hint of amusement at that line as he catches it. The gardener simply dips his head in a modest bow toward the High-Priestess and her section before taking up that first step with his page. In spite of the young one's efforts to heard him, he ebbs and flows gracefully toward the dais.

Amy moves her hand to take Vialle's, assuming she's not stopped from doing. She leans back towards Vialle to murmur a "Thank you," and listens quietly.

Murdoch is ushered towards the dias and bends the knee. Murdoch bows his head humbly and when there is an opportunity to speak, gestures towards Dashton. "If I may speak on this.. Lord Dashton of House Feldane is the individual quite deserving of the accolades. Indeed, calling it a miracle is the proper word to encompass his efforts. I was skeptical, as we follow very different disciplines. What he accomplished, was astounding and if I am to be honest, even a little frightening. I am honored to have been in attendance. It was an example that reflects well on those that live above the waves."

Dashton reaches the dais and falls on bended knee there, holding that for a moment of solemn respect. His attention falls on Murdoch as he begins to speak, drawing another smile from the Feldane as he shakes his head subtly. "Lord Murdoch, I am honored to stand with you today and am honored further by your kind and generous words. The hospitality, determination, and immense capability of the Deep Peoples have left me in awe. What we accomplished that day... we, everyone, did together. I was fortunate to have been present for the last mile of what was a long and arduous journey."

Standing in the back, Maggie listens to the two men and her smile quirks with an amusement that is short lived. At something said, her gaze drops briefly. Whatever emotion touched her, it is gone again by the time she lifts her gaze once more.

This time, Miriam is approached by a page bearing a matching be-jeweled box with Moire's symbol upon it. She kisses Martin's cheek, then accepts the box as he did the last and kicks forward towards the throne. Mirroring the ceremony before, she first bows deeply towards Moire, then turns to open the box and display these two delicately-crafted favors to those present. They are presented then to the gentlemen, first Dashton and then Murdoch, and she says "I have no words to express the gratitude of the Sea and of the Sky, not only for the great deed of restoring her Majesty to her rightful form, which is a service to Rebma that cannot be measured, but also while doing so for saving the Warden of the Deep, a devoted servant of Rebma and someone very dear to us." The 'us' seems to mean Martin. She smiles, and says "Thank you."

The applause returns, for not only is Moire a beloved Monarch, but the Warden is a well-known and respected Rebman. A few conch shells are heard blowing in the courtyard as the words from the dias make it out to the multitude.

Wulf whoops once again, with an added side of "Was good to see the Merri man!" for good measure, nodding with a beaming grin at those nearby who give him a look like he has a head too many. "Is truth. Was good to be seeing, ja?" and there is applause, not held back.

"Thank you, Royal Highness." Murdoch intones placidly to Miriam. Accepting the item when his turn comes. "May the realm continue to be blessed. To the times ahead, the past restored, and those that swim the channel between."

Dashton dips his head once again and holds it there as he accepts the favor. "Thank you, Your Highness. It was an honor and a true privilege to have been entrusted with such a responsibility, to have been granted the opportunity to attend to both, and to witness Her Majesty's return to her rightful Vessel." Looking beside him to Murdoch, the Feldane's smile broadens as he nods in heartfelt agreement with his words. "Well said, Lord Murdoch."

Shao turns his head to have a better look at the crowd behind him, just a glance. That's enough for him to note the faces he had missed before.

Maggie's applause is long and heartfet as she hears both the awards presented and the words spoken. Eloquent sort of gentlemen those two are.

There are still a couple of Rebman youths on the sidelines, scanning the crowds dolefully for a certain face or two. They confer in high whispers about their dilemma, "There're only a few from upstairs left, that could be them. We could just ask.. you know.. are you Arthur Templeton? Are you Satoshi... Shao!!" That last a little yelp as the young Rebman miss finally lays eyes on the Penglai who had shipped in via box. She darts to join him just in time!

Miriam gives the pair a warm smile and then a bow to show them respect, then there is another deeper bow for Moire. She backs two steps, before returning to her place by Martin, and the box is returned to the waiting page.

Martin joins the applause, smiling broadly at the men receiving the award. Clearly he is in agreement with Miriam.

Moire watches again in somber silence, as Miriam takes her turn doling those coveted tokens. The lively, earnest interplay between the beastmaster and the necromancer would have earned a smile from anyone less regally disciplined. As it is, she merely gives them both a gracious nod.

Dashton is permitted to take his stylish leave, however.. the other dandy is detained on the dais. Oooh? And Moire says:

"At last, the Deep Throne calls upon those valiant and resourceful individuals, without whose vigilance, even these two great efforts would have gone in vain. For the dark corners of the Sea had sent forth their cunning hunters and dread abominations, to strike the heart of Rebma at its most vulnerable. Time and again, that darkness was turned aside."

The poor young page lurking around Maggie just about vibrates into a nervous flail when he hears his cue. Go! Go go go! Shao's shadow urges him to fall into step.

Dashton rises part-way before shifting in place to directly face Moire to kneel and bow once more, then rises to make his way back through the crowd to his previous spot. A row or two in and then he throws in a side-shuffling two-step and is lost from view.

Murdoch rises and is about to make his way away from the dias, but pauses. Cool as a sea cumcumber, he listens and stays put for now. Watching Dashton merge into the mass of people, silently oathing to catch up with him before he can flee the realm, or at least track him down up the stairs.

What gave Shao away? The fact he is overdressed in his hauberk of shell-made scales, most probably. Or perhaps Maggie is to be blamed, somehow. He pushes himself forward and up, keeping his gaze down. As he crosses Murdoch, he offers the man a smile. He lands on the dais with a knee to the ground, his head humbled. "Your Majesty, Queen of the Deep. You honour me doubly today, for I was already so to be trusted in your presence before. All I did was to follow my heart and be a friend. This reward should be shared with Merriol and Maggie, to whom I owe so much."

Maggie looks surprised as her page starts into an apoplectic fit. Then, comprehending, she turns to walk through the crowds, down along the walkway left open for just this sort of thing. On reaching the dias a bit after Shao, she eyes her friend for an instant as he speaks. Pish-tosh, her gaze seems to say before if fades into a fond smile. Looking up after only a heartbeat, she bows deeply, one hand lifting to shimer the fall of her bodice's bling, "Your Majesty." Rising, she looks from Murdoch to Shao, then back up again. Her manner remains elegenty subdued. She is aware of who it was that fought the creatures to protect Her Majesty's person. She knows that Moire knows, so takes a supportive stand near the men, but not on the same level.

Martin gazes at Maggie fondly. Proud of her for what she has endured for so long. He grins at Shao and looks towards her Majesty for her next words regarding this group.

Wulf continues to quietly watch now, from the back of the throne room. He smiles to himself now, at Shao and Maggie being before the throne, nodding in silent approval.

Here the assembly leans forward anew, appetites whet for heroic tales of single combat and assorted derring-do. But of course, Moire gives out no solid details, leaving the imagination to run rampant based on rumours alone. These accounts will be sung in the streets, and however sketchy the lyrics might be, it will still essentially be true.

Her Royal Majesty regards Shao for a long moment, perhaps taking an extra moment to consider all of the man's efforts for the Crown, in spite of his protestations. As she resumes her speech, her gaze rests next upon Murdoch, and perhaps there is a kindling of a smile for her fellow Rebman. Her focus wavers slightly, noting the absence of one briefly, before moving on to.. Miriam? How mysterious. Then she looks upon Maggie, and the gathering ripples in reaction to that... quirk. That was a quirk. But, she is still speaking:

"Your efforts are testament to a fellowship and loyalty I would never dare to claim was for my own sake."

In a single graceful motion, she stands from the coral throne. "Yet it shall be my honour to bestow favour, so that all Rebma may know you as heroes:" And with her own hands, Queen Moire receives the last case embossed with her emblem, and approaches each individual in order to give them their due: "To you, Satoshi Shao of Penglai; and once more to you, Lord Murdoch; and to you, Princess Miriam of Tir, my new granddaugher; and to you.. Lady Margaret."

In silence, Shao accepts his reward. He shares a smile with the others nearby, for he knows that the code of duty has many facets, including accepting help and gratitude. He crosses gaze with Maggie, gracing her with a knowing nod for all she went through herself. What will he use this favor for? It is an easy guess it will not be for his own sake alone but for the good of many, if he can achieve that. Shao stands up only to bow again for Moire and then takes a step back. He knows he is not excused, yet and probably never will be, never entirely.

Maggie's smile answers Martin's, however briefly. She watches Shao and Murdoch a moment more, her smile holding pride in their achievements, though it is not a proprietary thing. Her attention returns to Moire in time to watch the Monarch as she speaks. Although those behind her cannot see, Maggie's expression answers Moire's quirk with one of her own. She nods slightly as each of those before her are given their tokens. When it is her turn, she accepts the sparkly piece with a softening smile and a warm gaze, "Thank you, Your Majesty. For Rebma, for the Sea and for you." This time, she bows in truth, an elegant, if brief genuflection complete with one hand lifted almost to her throat, the other held in a graceful arch. When she rises, she takes a moment to study the Queen before taking two steps back in preparation for departure.

The audience is a-flummer with interest and speculation over this last segment of appreciation, sensing a more poignant significance in these awards than that of altruistic or professional service. The applause starts, however, as always, and comes to be echoed back from the courtyard with an extra note of impatience. It is time for the Queen's words to them to come from the Queen herself.

Quinlan seems pleased with the general fallout of favors. For someone that turned up to Special Dress Day in Casual Friday attire, though, he doesn't draw much - or any - attention, as he quietly slips out.