(no subject)

[theravenboy]

[OOM: After Bran reclaimed his harp from the lake and went home, Bran and his da had a quiet holiday, and an interesting conversation.]

Harpsong winds through the front of Milliways. Owen Davies holds open the door so that Bran can go through first, and follows after. Both men are dressed in their Sunday best.

Bran goes immediately to the bar, where he receives a gift and a note. As he reads the note, his jaw tightens.

[ooc: Yes, they're both here. Please ping before tagging, though.]

Comments

[gramarye1971]

The harpsong catches Merriman's attention, at his table near the lake door.

When Owen Davies follows Bran into the bar, a muscle in his jaw twitches faintly.

But he sits still, a chiselled statue in academical dress.

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

The man in academical dress looks faintly familiar to Owen. After a moment Owen places him. "Reverend Lyon, is it?"

Bran glances between Owen and Merriman, controlling a sudden urge to laugh.

[gramarye1971]

Merriman looks up and meets Owen Davies' mildly inquisitive gaze.

'Noswaith dda, Mr Davies.'

The pause before he speaks again might be overly long, but when he does continue, his voice is surprisingly gentle.

'They used to call me Reverend, once upon a time.'

[theravenboy]

"Did they? I did not know that," Bran says. "Da, this is Will's master Merlion. Merriman Lyon."

Owen jerks his chin up in brief startlement, but says slowly, "I did think there was something strange about you, back then."

[gramarye1971]

Merriman inclines his head in greeting, and there might be the briefest twitch of an eyebrow at Owen's reaction.

'You would not be the only one to think so, Mr Davies,' he replies.

His gaze flicks to Bran. 'The situation here worsens, I regret to say.'

[holy-oats.livejournal.com]

Enter one Mightily Oats, who is half-carrying, half-dragging a large and rather gothic-looking sword through the bar. There is rapidly melting snow in his hair, and his clerical collar is as dangerously starched as ever.

Unfortunately, he does not look where he is going. This results in his collision with Owen.

"Oh, um, sorry!" he exclaims, nearly dropping the sword. "I'm a bit clumsy just now ..."

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen steps backwards involuntarily. "That is all right."

[holy-oats.livejournal.com]

Oats steps back hastily himself, nearly bumping into someone else.

"I, ah ... normally don't carry this around with me," he says, just in case Owen now thinks he is the type of person to callously bump into strangers while holding sharp weaponry.

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

"I should hope that you don't," Owen says censoriously. "Not safe, a thing like that."

[holy-oats.livejournal.com]

Oats wilts a little.

"Er," he says. "Well, no. Not in the strictest sense, no."

[veryvorkosigan]

Cordelia glances at the two of them from her armchair by the fire. Her gaze sharpens slightly, and tracks back and forth between Bran and the older man she doesn't recognize.

When Bran turns away from the bar, she catches his eye and gives him a small casual wave.

[theravenboy]

Bran waves back and leads his father over to Cordelia's armchair. "Hallo, Cordelia. This is my da, Owen Davies. Da, this is Countess Cordelia Vorkosigan. She is a friend of Will's."

With awkward courtesy, Owen says, "Hallo, my lady."

[veryvorkosigan]

Cordelia's tone is brisk, but her smile of greeting is warm. "Oh, please, Cordelia will do. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Davies."

She shoots a brief questioning glance to Bran.

[theravenboy]

"I am honored," Owen says to the air over Cordelia's right shoulder. He really isn't used to addressing strange women.

Bran says lightly, with an answering glance, "Da wanted to come and see how things are at Milliways this week."

[veryvorkosigan]

Cordelia's gotten this reaction before, occasionally, from young Barrayarans of a certain rank. She's not bothered.

In a light, merry tone: "You've picked an eventful week to visit us, Mr Davies. Have you been here before?"

[white_flowers]

Someone else is in the room, settled comfortably in an armchair, out of the way.

Ice-blue eyes are oddly flat in the flickering firelight, as she watches them-- and it is only after Bran Davies goes to the bar that Blodwen moves, waving to Owen.

"Why, a good evening to you, Mr. Davies."

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

With an effort, Owen straightens his back and looks hard at the woman in the armchair. "Blodwen Rowlands. I thought I should see you here tonight."

[white_flowers]

"Did you, then?" she murmurs. "And here you are, still."

A beat. "How is John?"

It may be woth noting that she did not call him "her" John, not now.

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen stands tensely, pressing his fingers into the palms of his hands, but he says crisply, "John is quite well, and it is no thanks to you."

[white_flowers]

"No thanks to your adopted son, you should say," she advises him. "It was not me who forced his remembering from his mind, or brought it back when he was here and unharmed and thought against all hope that he had found his wife once more."

"Best take care, Owen Davies, that Bran does not hurt you so someday in his incessant quest to do what he thinks is right. His teachers have taught him very well indeed, you see."

The light soft tone is icy.

[kitchen_maid]

Bran Davies is one of the people Amy has been keeping an eye out for, these past few days.

So when she looks up and sees him, she leaves her things over by the fire and crosses to his table.

"Good evening, Bran."

A greeting, merely, not a statement of fact.

[theravenboy]

"Amy. Thank you for writing," Bran says. "I only got your note tonight, I'm afraid. When did you send it?"

[kitchen_maid]

"Thursday," she says, sitting down. "And I talked to Tom Riddle about all of it on Friday. He was kind enough to put a ward on our door. Not strong enough of course for . . . well, I thought you should know."

She's calm enough that she's not babbling, but there's just an edge of it, and her words almost trip over one another.

[theravenboy]

Bran orders tea and pours for Amy without asking whether she wants any. "And have you heard anything else since then?"

[kitchen_maid]

She shakes her head, and accepts the tea very gratefully. "No. But Anne's been in Avonlea a lot recently. I don't really know what it . . . Mrs. Rowlands just seemed to mention her name too often, if that makes any sense."