Dinner with the Iriel's was…nice. Ulric was seated at the single long table in the hall midway down the tremendous thing. The room had been restored to order since the chaos of last night. To his side Geyrt stood silently, not joining them. Ulric nearly asked her to sit but thought better of it. She had been quiet throughout the entire ordeal that was her father's idea of a joke. There were cultural practices in play that Ulric was not versed in, and it probably had to do with this Shadow business. It had come to his attention that he had not seen a single person address Geyrt directly, at any point, the entire day. Not even to ream her out. Nope. Just total silence on the Western front. He was not going to commit another social gaff by inviting her to sit at a table in which she was not welcome, even though he was fairly sure it would be excused by his ignorance. He would ask her later, in private. Watcher's tits did it feel awkward though.

While some of the staff swept up the debris left by his royal person's abrupt, and abortive, flight across the hall others brought out an assortment of greens, meats, fruits, and ye gods, bread. Ulric had not had bread in months. He had dreamed about bread. Muffins. Pizza. Rolls. Pizza rolls. He thought he might tear up.

The royal persons took their seats at the head of the table in, what Ulric had to assume was the order of their position in court. The [Lord of the Deep Wood] sat in the middle position of honor at the end. To his immediate right sat Vedyr, who must be his first wife since she had birthed his eldest son and daughter. Next to her sat the Crimson Sphinx, who was the second wife. Ulric still knew next to nothing of her except for her inscrutability. And, you know, the two obvious things. Last in line sat Lady Gold, Brighteyes' mother, the third wife.

What a line up. If it would not have been such an incredibly rude thing to do Ulric would have whistled and applauded Bald'rt. And maybe given a eulogy for him, he doubted very much that a single man would remain in possession of his pants with three powerful, incisive women at hand. Brighteyes sat to Bald'rt's left but one seat down the table the first remaining empty, the next eight seats following him were set but empty. Ah. Ulric would have bet his hand that those seats left empty were for the children not present, seats of honor. Then that missing seat must be for his fallen son. That was a surprisingly poignant gesture of these practical people. They did not forget their fallen kin. Ever.

Ulric took a moment to digest that. These Elves lived for hundreds and hundreds of years. And they would spend every meal of every day of those lives with a seat set for their fallen or absent children. No wonder they were tough nuts to crack. Brighteyes had said that the social circles amongst them, rings, were very tight. Probably friends who had known each other for decades at least. Maybe centuries. What the hell kind of grudge would they hold against the ones responsible for those empty seats and broken rings? And there was a group of people dumb enough to start a war with these folk? Madness. Whoever these Prespang people were, they had no idea what kind of hornet's nest they had stirred. Ulric deeply hoped he would never do something to turn that kind of ire against himself. He nearly shivered at the thought of one of the monsters at the end of the table having a vendetta against him.

Enough of that though, Ulric shelved this line of thinking. It'd spoil the food. So he ate with the family. There was a cool fruity beverage that was, thankfully, not related to the spirits of the previous night. The meal was taken in silence. That was familiar, Brighteyes had rarely ever spoken over his food. Even so, there was a distinct feeling of subdued joy at the table. Clear it was that the parents were happy for his return. All of them directed pleased glances over to his way…Hey! The scars were gone!

Brighteyes had taken a bit of a mauling from the [Heckler Monkeys] including a serious bite on the side of his chin. They had bandaged it as best as they could, including using an herb that Ulric knew for a fact was useful in staunching blood loss. Do not ask how he learned this. But the closing wound had been nasty and was definitely going to scar. Talented healers had been at the boy as well and had done wonders. Ulric had felt badly that he had been unable to protect the child completely, even though it was unreasonable to expect such. The deep wood was dangerous. Now, at least the physical manifestation of his failure was erased and the kid would go on being a heart stopper when he grew up. Magic was definitely a game changer. Ulric couldn't wait to figure out what he could do with it, his "spells" were more throwing raw energy around than the work of a mage.

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

When the presented dishes were cleaned and the eating utensil, a twin forked implement with a deep bowl-shaped depression in its center, because of course the Elves ate with sporks, was placed cross ways over the plate to indicate the eater was finished, another round of snacking items were brought out. Light blue berries in wooden bowls. Now, it seemed, speaking was polite.

The Lord of the Castle broke the silence after having taken a bowl of berries into his lap to snack.

"Ulric Glade Chief, how did you find your accommodations?" He asked amiably.

"They were wondrous Bald'rt Iriel Chief. I had not realized how much I missed a proper bed since I arrived here. Even without the overindulgence I do not think I could have slept more soundly. And, please, Ulric is just fine. I have to admit I'm not very comfortable with the appellatives." He returned, reaching for a berry to munch on.

"Then let us drop such formalities. As I said before they are unnecessary, outside of official business. I am glad to know the bedding was to your liking. Made softer, no doubt by the presence of Sinna's sister over there." Bald'rt continued in his same tone nodding slightly to the same Warrior who had tested his bow.

Ulric nearly choked on the berry in his mouth having inhaled sharply.

"Was your morning as eventful as your…Ahh! Forgiveness wife! I jest." Bald'rt cut off as his first wife calmly wiped her knife on the furred napkin in her lap.

"What I meant to say was, I hope you were not too tired from the festivities to enjoy a…"

He shot a furtive glance to his left before continuing. Blood was slowly seeping through the sleeve of his shirt.

"…a peaceful morning." the Elven lord finished lamely.

Ulric had managed to just avoid requiring medical assistance with the berry. That bastard elf king. He should have known a tiger wouldn't change its stripes. Silently, he said a prayer that the Ladies of the House were present to keep the man, elf, whatever, in line.

Now though he was in uncharted territory. How exactly did the Elves handle casual bonks? Was a drunken romp socially the same as a deliberate courting? Hmm…no. Bald'rt had given him a hint earlier, hadn't he? He said they were throwing hands…ok that was probably a game of chance, rock, paper, scissors for Elves. Which put them in a new light, he'd never have pegged the Elves for being so…forward. Not that he was complaining. Equity in the sexes was a fine thing. Flattering even. It had been a long time since he'd felt desirable, let alone been treated as desirable. Best to be circumspect, but honest. He didn't want anyone to think he was bragging but neither a prude.

"Another's heat on a cold night is always welcome. I hope the song on her lips when she left was a happy one." He said simply.

That was, so far as he was able to read the crowd, an appropriately modest response. The Warrior's sister, Sinna, one of Bald'rt's honor guard answered.

"It was. She sends her regards and hopes you won't limp too badly today." The Warrior's voice low and smoky and slightly challenging.

Oho? So, we are making jokes are we? Ulric decided it was not outside the bounds to return in kind. Nothing too sharp though, he really had had a good time and it was all in good fun.

"You may tell her that she's welcome to try and cripple me again, but someone should warn the neighbors. She has a fine set of lungs, in addition to other things." He returned confidently. Limping indeed.

It occurred to Ulric that this is probably why Brighteyes seemed more mature than his physical age suggested. These people held little back amongst themselves. They might be averse to opening up around strangers but in their comfort, little was off limits, so far as he could tell. And, with a father like Bald'rt, who needed vulgar Uncles?

The Warrior acknowledged his riposte satisfied that her sister's drunken fling wasn't being dismissive. He didn't find out until later, that she'd also thrown hands for the claim. Elves partied hard. Not so surprising when a walk in your back yard could get you eaten alive by some roaming monstrosity.

Apparently though that was as far as the conversation was supposed to go, to his relief; Ulric had never been a kiss and tell type of guy.

Clearing her throat, Brighteyes mother, again, returned the Hall to something resembling solemnity.

"Please, our guest has endured enough teasing. Anymore and it will be another few hundred years before we get a visitor from outside. Let us steer onto more productive tracks. We are in agreement on the matters of state and Winter's Herald is on our doorstep. The Glade Chief will need to be made comfortable with a permanent quartering, dear Hal'et will need her rooms for a little longer yet. This we will arrange this very hour. Take the afternoon, Ulric, and roam Irielhos. Make the citadel as familiar as your home while we make ready. A guide will be sent to you to show you to your rooms. And remember: Eldest Daughter Geyrt may be your Shadow but you are responsible for her care and comforts. I will expect you to see to those as station befits." She announced.

Warm and comforting. But with a will of steel was that one. A velvet glove wrapping a gauntlet. It was good that Brighteyes favored her. He wouldn't survive long if he took after his father, unless he was equally as monstrously strong.

Thus dismissed, Ulric thanked the Iriels for their kindness and wished them a good day before exiting the hall.

Simultaneously, he and his Shadow breathed a long, deep, sigh of relief. Mirrors thrown in a skewed light.