(Untitled)

[mother_lost]

*A few weeks have passed since Arthur was summoned away, and Bran was summoned to the Summer Country -- a time of unusual tension in the castle. Guinevere, Merlion, and Bran see to the running of the land, but the strain of the magic being worked is beginning to show in some faces, and worry is beginning to show in Guinevere's

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[merrimanlyon]

The strain of the magic, such as it is, will likely become more apparent as the days and weeks pass. Merlion has noticed only one particularly negative effect thus far -- he has found it slightly difficult to concentrate or focus on one task for any great length of time.

Then again, there may be other reasons for that.

At the moment, he is feeling restless. He strides through the corridors of the castle and through the grounds without any real destination or purpose, walking for the sake of walking. He nearly passes by the chapel without a second glance, but out of the corner of his eye he catches sight of the kneeling figure...and draws to a halt.

He rests a hand on the stone of the door frame, but does not enter the chapel proper. This is Guinevere's private space, after all.

[mother_lost]

Credo in Deum Patrem omnipotentem, Creatorem . . .

*She trails off as she becomes aware of the footsteps stopped outside, and looks up and around.*

Yes? *slightly surprised* Merlion?

[merrimanlyon]

Merlion bows his head a little, half in acknowledgement and half in apology.

'My apologies, madam. I did not wish to disturb you at prayer. I merely thought' -- and he breaks off, because he hadn't really thought anything when he paused outside the chapel -- 'I merely thought that I might ask if there was aught I could do for you.'

It is said calmly enough, but each word is very carefully said...as if he has calm by the throat, and is on the point of throttling it.

[mother_lost]

*She gives him a long, measuring look.*

I am well provided for, at present, but I thank you.

How do you fare, Merlion?