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[white_flowers]

A dim, distantly-heard echo of unreal discordant chimes floats faintly on the air, but there is no sound of wings as the snowy owl bursts from a strangely grayish-white cloud and soars over the deep forest toward Milliways. Circling, she glides down to a perch on a tree-branch by the lake. Golden eyes are focused on the bar and its environs

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[merrimanlyon]

He knew she would return, but not the when, where or how.

Now he knows all three.

And so as he turns from his attempt at damage control, his eyes narrow at the sight of the lady in the green kirtle.

A pause, before he speaks.

'...in my opinion, that colour really does not suit you.'

[white_flowers]

Some things cannot be hidden, and her ice-blue, ice-bright gaze is somehow very amused as she turns quickly to face him.

"Why, the pretty bird said that very thing when it was he came to visit me, lion," she lilts, half-laughing.

"Such a shame, that he did not stay longer."

[merrimanlyon]

'Perhaps. And perhaps not.' Cold light flickers in his eyes as he studies her. 'He brought word of you, you see. As you doubtless knew he would.'

[white_flowers]

And now her laugh is true and filled with delight, floating on the air like music.

"Of course I did, Old One. So helpful, he has been." She cups the glass pendant at her throat, still openly laughing at him.

"So very helpful indeed."

[merrimanlyon]

She is being even more unsubtle than usual. Whatever power she has imbued into that pendant she wears...he files the information away for future reference.

'And so I suppose the only other question I had in mind at the moment is this:' -- and his smile is thin and mirthless -- 'whatever took you so long?'

[white_flowers]

Such openness, such honesty! So very strange it is, after all.

One wonders at the reason, but Blodwen does not seem at all troubled as she tells him,

"Why, did you think I would follow your whims and schedules, Merlion? I would have thought you might know the value of patience."

She laughs softly, cruelly, and smooths one hand over the green of her gown.

"Are you certain that you do not like the color? You did not seem to mind it, when it was made into a fine velvet coat."

[merrimanlyon]

His jaw tightens briefly, but he knows her barbs well enough by this point. And for that matter, it only serves to remind him of how she returned, through what means, and that merely fuels the white fire in his gaze.

'A bit of cleverness, to use that gift of Henry Wellard's,' he says lightly. 'Handmade. Freely-given. Drawing upon the older magic when you had naught else to serve you, then?'

[white_flowers]

She laughs again, and this time it is soft and poison-sweet.

"Naught else? Think that if you wish, dewin ffwl. But so convenient it is, to use that which is freely offered to my hand."

[merrimanlyon]

And he files that knowledge away as well.

'Convenient. You have been careful indeed, Rider. Though you will of course have to pay for what you did before.' He says this as if mentioning that the sun is entirely likely to rise in the morning, or that water is particularly wet when it wants to be.

[white_flowers]

Whatever he was expecting, it might not have been this.

"Goodness yes, cariad. I will pay, just as soon as you and your dear friends pay for what you have done here as well."

Malice coats each word -- malice and triumph.

[merrimanlyon]

The faintest twitch of an eyebrow is all that might betray his thought processes. If she thinks she has the upper hand in this, then he will have to ponder his next moves very carefully.

'We shall see who will pay, and for what,' is all he says. 'Now that you have returned...there is time to consider such things.'

Consider it, in the same way one would consider a chess board with only a few pieces left in play.

[white_flowers]

"Goodness me, but we shall indeed." The triumphant malice has not abated one whit, even though her tone is very soft.

"So much there is, to be repaid."