Dear Diary,

"If a Child has no one else,

And you take them as your own,

You're my kind of Good Person."

Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Children

Realized as I sat down to write today's Verse that I've got a whole shit ton of 'thou shalt not' in my Doctrine, and at least for the bits I'm proud of, like Passion and Ecstasy and absolutely Children, I really need to have more in the way of 'Tabby Likey'. If somebody wants to use me and my beliefs as their Moral Compass, which apparently I don't get a choice about them doing, it just seems to make sense that along with what to avoid I give them some tips about what to do. Like if they avoid all the bad parts of Vengeance and Bloodlust and Justified Homicide, and they're up to their eyeballs in Agency and Egalitarianism and Redemption, that's great, they sound like somebody I'd want to sit down and have a drink or three with. Just hang around and shoot the shit.

Thing is, you can easily be into those core Values, avoid all the bad stuff I've got Domains for, and still wind up being all about, I dunno, miniature wax sculptures of cattle or some shit. Now I'm not saying I'm gonna deny access to the afterlife of their choice for somebody who's all about the low melting temp bovine minifigs, but they would not be my first choice of drinking companions. I think we all know I'm not terribly picky, but that doesn't mean I don't have preferences, and while I've got the mic I'm gonna tell folks what will make me go all gooey to sit and listen to them chatter. I don't think that's a step too far. I guess when I'm done writing I'll run all this past Saffron and Siobhan and maybe Marie.

Not that I don't think Marie has opinions, but she generally isn't super loquacious about them. Like, if something is important, she'll bring it up, but she won't go on describing the problem and suggesting answers and all that shit. She mentions it, lets other people sort out their own view of and solution for the problem, then makes it clear if she thinks it's insufficient. I'd really like it if she were a little more... I don't want to say 'invested', because she has made it very clear that she's not only all in, she's all in to a degree that scares even her. But I wish she had the capacity and desire to express herself with the rest of us verbally. Okay, she might have the desire, but it's pretty clear she doesn't have the capacity, what with the whole 'mouth full of fangs' thing.

Kinda makes me wonder whether Menace will ever overcome her Hell of Teeth lisp, what with Murder Mittens not having one. Honestly, I don't think she will, because she gives absolutely no shits about what anybody who disses her lisp thinks about it. Which, let me be clear, is exactly how it should be. But she also has the ability to put the Hell of Teeth away if she wants to be all formal and enunciate properly, so the whole need to work up those anti-lisp skills doesn't really exist.

Okay, I'm not gonna do this, because it would be weird, but now I want to be a fly on the wall the first time she goes down on a guy who is aware of the Hell of Teeth when she looks up at him and says, 'oh tay, awe you weddy fowah thith'. Okay, I gotta pay close attention to whenever she's ready for important intimate life tips, because when she is I gotta mention to her that doing that will definitely be a way to weed out the boys with insufficient intestinal fortitude to deal with her inevitable bullshit.

Yes, I am aware my daughter will give her partners bullshit. I give my partners all kinds of bullshit all the time, if she never does I'll be stunned. Not unhappy, mind you, just stunned.

So the ships that came in yesterday did fuck all yesterday. Just sat there gathering snow. I got a quick nap while Karen stood watch, then joined her on deck for the rest of the night. At sunrise I sent her below decks to get some rest, then settled in up in the prow where I had a good view of the docked Fae ship, No idea what kind of ships they were, just long and lean and... still surprisingly ugly. Like, the hulls were nice, but the sails. I kind of expected with that sharp, curved prow that they'd have some kinda triangular sails, but instead they had square chunky shit. Like, yeah, most of the Questing Tentacle's sails were square, but not all of them, and the Questing Tentacle had to be at least twice the size of the Fae boats. But nope, just nothing but broad chunky sails.

Well, they'd had them up until the sun came out, at which point a couple crewmen came out and took them down. Rolled them up. Whatever, they put them away. I am not a sailing ship girl. At which point Admiral Pesce, who'd braved the cold to do a quick walk around the deck checking to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, stopped next to me and shook his head.

"Sad," he muttered. "Dunno if they're just awful sailors, or their captain is lax, or someone other than a naval officer is in charge, but you don't leave the sails out all night like that."

As quietly as he had, I said, "you know that's not good news, right?" When he glanced down at me, eyebrow raised, I said, "that means either their refugees who stole some boats, in which case they'd have left the ships a lot sooner, or they're the kind of stuck up asshole who doesn't listen to a professional because they think they know better."

He sucked his teeth, nodded, then moved along to get under cover. I envied him a little, but I wasn't taking my eyes of that fucking docked ship. For a minute I worried about the other ships doing some shady shit with Marine Commando types, but then I thought about how the Blessing had shown me the Trolls as professional soldiers, how they all moved with that kind of dangerous ponderousness I'd seen our ROTC teachers and occasional visiting Drill Instructors move with, and how they fuckin' called themselves a Legion and seemed like that was just their life. They might or might not win a fight against some unknown force, but they certainly wouldn't lose quietly.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

So I sat there, bored out of my skull, for most of the day, staring at their boat while fuck all happened.

Then, about an hour before sunset, the side of their ship facing the dock folded outward into a ramp extending to the dock. five figures rode across the ramp; first three armored dudes, then somebody in long, all-concealing robes, then a final armored dude. My eyes kept going back to their horses until I realized that they were not, in fact, horses. Big chests, quadrupeds, long legs, yeah, and their heads had a kind of horsiness about them, but they didn't move like horses. Instead of that clop clop thing horses did, they walked different. Like they wanted to prowl, but something had them walking stiff legged instead.

You seein' this, Kitten? Even inside my head I whispered.

Nightmares. Sidhe Knights. Saffron hissed. I do not know who the robed figure is, but given the time and escort, I suspect an envoy. Not unlike Karen.

Speaking of. I turned to the Highest Priestess in question and thought, let Tallulah know she's about to receive visitors. Back her up. I'll be watching and ready to intervene.

I go.

When I looked through her eyes, she'd bent down next to the Overlord's ear where she sat on her throne, the image of an advisor bringing a message for the ruler's ears only. She whispered what we'd seen, and I shot her an image of the five mounted folks trudging through the snow. I'll keep an eye on them as long as I can, so Lady Crow can time whatever she wants to do to receive them. Karen whispered that as well.

I did my part by pulling out my binocs and tracking the robed figure as they moved straight toward the Overlord's Keep. Just as they passed the row of inns, brothels, and bars, a groaning crash jerked my head around; the Fae ship had pulled its ramp up, and unlike deploying it they'd made a hell of a racket. When I looked back toward the mounted figures, they'd disappeared into the snow. "Shit!" Karen, I lost them going past Brothel Row.

Understood, Goddess.

She leaned in to murmur to Tallulah, and I leapt to the roof of the nearest inn. I scanned the road first without the binoculars, then with, but no joy. Instead of screwing around trying to hunt them down, I stepped back to the deck of the Questing Tentacle, stepped into the cabin under the raised rear deck, and said, "just lost sight of their envoys. Get everyone ready for potential hijinks."

Then I braced myself against the inside of the door and focused on my feed from Karen. Time crawled by, but after maybe half an hour Karen saw a hitherto hidden door at the far end of the hall from the throne creak open. A big fuckin' door, as the riders rode straight into the room, one mounted Knight in the lead, followed by the robed... woman, I guessed based on the cut of her robes and some hair sticking out from under her hood, who had one Knight on each side of her. Finally, the last Knight brought up the rear. Tallulah's bodyguards didn't move, but I got the definite impression that some intense rapid motion was definitely an option.

The Overlord herself had some serious stones, because she straight up refused to acknowledge the foursome as she finished dealing with the pair of shipwrights in front of her. After that she waved the rest of the general crowd aside, but then waved one of the local Fae forward. "Ser Bight, I believe you have the right of it as regards our likely future shipping needs. Continue your project as we discussed previously, and inform Lady Bey that the Overlord has decreed she is to assist you in your endeavors."

Bight, who looked kinda surprised that she'd decided to talk to him, let alone that she'd sided with him, said, "as you wish, Overlord," then bowed, backed away, and turned like he intended to haul ass before she could change her mind. At that point he realized the visitors were kinda blocking the doorway, and he froze like a snake that had somehow spotted a hawk flying overhead. Which all the other Sidhe and assorted Fae looking folks had long since done, which made me think Ser Bight might be the Moon Moon of Tallulah's Court.

"Oh, Magrat. I hadn't noticed your arrival. Had you sent a messenger prior, I should have had guest rooms prepared."

As the Knight in front of her stepped his horse neatly to the side, 'Magrat' stepped hers forward about halfway to where he'd been, pulling the hood of her robes down as she did. Without anything but looking at her face, I could tell that she and Tallulah had to be cousins, at the very least. "My name is Mairéad, great-niece. But then, you always did have that diction problem. I thought by now you'd have mastered it." She shook her head. "No matter. I come bearing notice."

"Oh?"

"Yes. On the morrow, at sunset, The Morrigan, Queen of the Sidhe, shall grace your court with her presence. She requires you to have your family prepared for her review."

Tallulah nodded as if she'd expected that. "Bother. Adrienne is unlikely to respond to my summons. No matter. I suppose Greatmother wishes to find a more suitable heir apparent. My children and I will await her visit tomorrow at sunset."

With that, the Overlord turned back to her Fae Courtiers, utterly ignoring her... relative, who stood there seething for like half a minute before sniffing, spinning her horse around, and following her Knights back out of the Keep. The moment the doors swung shut with a bang, Tallulah waved Karen over without looking away from her current supplicant. She spoke without turning her head, but so low I was certain nobody but Karen could hear her.

"I require my daughters returned tomorrow before sunset. In addition, any suitable aid The Alliance wishes to provide ought best be deployed before then as well."

"Of course, Overlord." Imperator, Goddess, did you hear that?

I'm a touch distracted at the moment. Tabitha, could you arrange to have the Crows returned to the Overlord's Keep in time?

I wasn't super sanguine about Kitten choosing this particular moment to find something else that needed her attention, but screw it, if she thought something was important enough to distract her, it was important.

You got it, Kitten.