Of Crumpets and Curses
22st of February 2007 A.D.
I don't go out of my way to be rude, no matter what some may say to the contrary. Take today for instance, walked into my office, gulped down the coffee without any sensation beside hot, felt briefly guilty over it since Lash made one of those fancy lattes with writing in them, looked down saw what seemed like a Christmas tree '2' with a bubble coming off the side.
Still on the Linear A kick looked like... My lovely companion had recently figured out that Lasciel had left her with bits and pieces of old languages, things that might conceivably help, but weren't complete enough to be full languages in her head so she had taken to mediating in order to fish out as much of it as she could. She did so while 'putting her body on auto-pilot' which is how ancient Minoan script had ended up on everything from coffee and pancakes to paper towels to walls and doorframes.
Compared to that I ask you was it so bad not to recognize the person at the door at 8:30 AM? Even if he was my boss technically and the head of the White Council and... bearing crumpets? Just as I was beginning to reassess the odds that I was in fact still dreaming he shoved them into my hands and stepped in.
"One hopes those are appropriate."
"For?" There was a lifetime of wariness in that question.
"A gift for a new parent. I was informed that I should bring either some form of baked goods or alcohol. I had no insight into your tastes in the latter so the former seemed a safe bet," he answers stiffly.
I'm going to blame the hour for what I said next too. "You weren't just worried what I'd be like if you encouraged me to drink?"
"No. I'm guessing you are more dangerous sober than three sheets to the wind," the Merlin replied taking in my office with such a complete non-reaction that it was almost a judgement in itself.
"How'd you figure that?" I challenged. 'In for the penny in for the pound', if that how they put it in Merry old England. He should be familiar with the concept them.
"Family resemblance."
Oh... I hadn't really had much time to consider the implication of the less earth-shattering of my familial revelations, specifically in light of Ebeneezer's place on the council, his history with the likes of Langtry and Listens-to-the-Wind.
"Do you have any idea where Lara Raith has been these past three weeks?" The question jarred me out of inner wondering and back into the here and now.
"Out of town is all I know and good riddance." Somehow I didn't think that would satisfy the old chap, but he only harrumphed like he was tallying against an invisible scoreboard."City's always quieter without her around to stir the pot and sip the foam off the cauldron."
For a moment he was quiet, thinking about how to ask his next question maybe, or maybe not given it was delivered with a bluntness that would do a bull in a china shop proud. "Dresden why do you do all this, the detective agency, the consulting? I know it's not for the money or I would have offered to give you a stipend to cover the expense."
"But you're not going to raise the Warden salaries are you?" Now I was getting a bit pissed, which is why it was so surprising that the Merlin laughed.
"The salary is not meant for anyone to live off of, just so that we can claim to employ all Wardens at all time for magical reasons, usually though not always relating to the Faerie courts. The true payment of a wizard is in contacts, reagents laboratory access and the ability to call on more junior wardens for your own purposes, in time of peace at least. Did you think the Council was that hard up for funds."
"I thought you'd missed inflation since the 50s or something like that," I half-grumble.
"We are old not
senile Dresden." Just like that the good mood had vanished. "I would very much prefer if you moved to some place less eventful in now that you will have to take on more teaching jobs, not that I have any illusions, some at least of the
eventfulness will follow but not all. There are certainly safer places to take a young child."
I opened my mouth angrily, stopped to think about it for once. "Even if I were willing to do so I can't. As of last month I'm a Warden in more ways than one."
"Pardon?" The Merlin looked me up and down as though for some strange sign.
"Out on the lake there's an island with no name, well it used to have no name before I gave it one, called it Demonreach."
And that was the first time I had heard Langtry curse, his acccent thickening as he went. "Sblood, zwounds and the rusty nails that made' em! When, how and what did you find, leave nothing out?"
"Wait a sec, I have questions too..." I started, but instead of arguing he waved it off.
"Yes, yes, I expect you do, I'll answer all I can, just start from the begining..."
OOC: Fun note Arthur is from a transitional time in the history of swearing when curses that blasphemed were still considered worse than those that had to do with bodily functions so him cursing by long form 'Gods Blood', 'Gods Wounds' and the nails that made them is deadly serious. To be fair to him he just got the news that Harry Dresden has the magical equivalent of nukes. 
