1737/Follow the Heron

Follow the Heron
Date of Scene:	06 March 2015
Location:	Dun Realtai
Synopsis:	On a typical blustery day in Dun Realtai, Saber, Bedivere, and Irisviel have an impromptu chat about the Fair Folk and cell phones.
Cast of Characters:	346, 482, 603

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Saber (346) has posed:
     Winter in Dun Realtai seemed to drag on through the months, most days blustery and filled with blizzards. When there was an absence of the latter, the skies were nevertheless grey and dreary. And the few clear days were nevertheless bitterly cold. It was only on these latter sort of days when villagers were sometimes seen about performing some necessary tasks -- along with the occasional outworld visitor or guest of the lord and lady -- and were otherwise found inside in the hearth-fuelled warmth of their homes and common areas. Thanks to the efforts of Union volunteers under the direction of the new lord and lady, none were lost to winter's bite, with modern insulation and construction ensuring that the usual drafts had been sealed out. The buildings had actually protected their residents.

     And it was within the Great Hall of the keep where one of the people who had made sure of that now worked, driven by memories of her own homeland. Britain's winters had rarely been as harsh as Dun Realtai's, yet never had that season ended without taking lives along with it. More than a few lives of the very young, the old, the infirm, and the ill had been claimed by the icy grasp, either by the cold or starvation. In spite of all her best efforts -- and those of her knights -- there were always casualties. Upon coming to this distant land, Arturia Pendragon, Servant Saber of the Fourth Holy Grail War, had been determined to never allow that to happen here.

     Much to her relief, their efforts had born fruit. Under the direction of the lord she had appointed, Sir Bedivere, the necessary reconstruction and preparations had been completed before the leading edge of winter descended on the land. They had both personally overseen the efforts, and Bedivere's keen eye had ensured that no detail went unnoticed. The villagers were well-protected and made comfortable, leaving enough time and materials to even begin reconstruction of the keep. That was just as well; many more visitors had made their way to the rural village and had been offered the hospitality which chivalry and ancient laws had demanded of them. Even several members of the Confederacy called the place their haven...albeit, some of the more honourable and well-behaved members, at any rate. The guest quarters had been rebuilt and refurbished enough to offer the necessary comfort of temporary longings, the baths remade in the style familiar to the Roman Britons. Arturia allowed herself some pride in that; many of their guests had praised them well for the Roman-styled baths.

     And in spite of the harshness of the winter, it was an ideal time to simply relax. The weather had kept the knights indoors -- with the occasional foray for Union duties -- as much as it had the villagers. The most strenuous work they partook of now was the matter of accounts and paperwork...at least, as much as Arturia had permitted her still-recovering marshal. Oh, she had certainly forbid him any overly-strenuous work in these vital months...and, in fact, bade him catch up on the five years of decent rest he had been deprived of in the wake of Camlann. She only left his side long enough to make her way downstairs into the great hall, filling in necessary detail in various ledgers, a tea service set on the table and out of the way of the books, a half-filled cup of cooling tea not far from it. Her hair was bound in a loose braid, and she was dressed in a cream-coloured Aran sweater and wool trousers as she worked quietly near the hearth. In all, a peaceful scene.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Sir Bedivere has somehow managed to keep himself busy in spite of the weather. For the most part, that's consisted of balancing ledgers, checking and double-checking the finances of the estate, and ensuring that things run smoothly from an administrative standpoint. Even as marshal, he had always had an eye towards logistics, and a keener eye toward figures and sums.

He's also taken to light cleaning, arranging things and slowly digging out things like the unused storage rooms -- although they're not used now, his rationale is pretty simple. They're going to need that space sooner or later.

Right at this particular moment, he's carrying a pile of unused clothing down from one of the upper storage rooms. Tunics, leggings, and even a pair of virutally unused boots atop the pile; it's all ready to be donated to whoever needs it most among the villagers.

There's a similar pile not too far from the hearth, various clothing and tools from the castle's inner rooms; things left behind and somehow untouched. Some of it had been sealed in barrels and crates, which may account for its uncommon good condition; there's even the odd mail shirt among them, indicating that the place once had a standing militia of some kind.

"That's the last of it from the northwestern storage room." Bedivere turns on his heel, slumping into the other chair across from Saber and picking drifting bits of cobweb from silvery hair. "Some sweeping, a verification from the stonemason, and those chambers should be ready for use."

He reaches over to pour himself a cup of tea, glancing at the ledger. He doesn't even need to ask if everything's lining up on it; doubtless she'd say something if anything looked amiss.

Emiya Kiritsugu (603) has posed:
    Patter patter patter. Feet go down the hall. Feet belonging to a cat. A cat that Illyasviel has apparently picked up somewhere and which Irisviel is presently trying to locate after it escaped their quarters. She was not aware of the cat's adoption before it went out the door like a flash of orange and gold. "Ah... Here cat? Here kitty?" Iri calls out as she comes around the corner, looking for the cat, and missing it going down a different hall. "...Come here please, Mister Cat?" she asks. She has never owned a cat, so she has no idea how to talk to them.

    Irisviel has a radio of her own now, in phone format, but every time she tries to use it she just winds up staring at all the Buttons and having a bit of a meltdown as she fails to figure out how to use it. She considered using it to call for help in reobtaining the cat, but... Buttons.

    So it is that Irisviel enters the Great Hall in a stylish burgundy dress shirt, with a black ribbon at the chest, held in place by a diamond-shaped clasp. A white skirt layus overtop of black leggings, and white boots that reach up to almost mid-thigh. The homunculus's white hair hangs loose as is typical of her, as she pokes her head in, and asks somewhat anxiously, "Ah... Sorry to bother you, but have you seen what appears to be a small lion running loose?"

Saber (346) has posed:
     A brief, barely-noticeable frown flickered across her girlish features for a fraction of a second, though doubtless the sharp-eyed knight would catch it. It was one of conflicted feelings, betraying her internal debate. Should she scold him for not resting more, or thank him for his hard work? She had finally persuaded him to admit that he /needed/ to rest, but at the same time, he also needed to feel useful. But after that moment, the latter appeared to win out. "Good," she commented with a slightly wry smile. "The clothing will need to be mended, most likely...the weavers will not be at a loss for work."

     Closing one completed ledger, the petite blonde set it aside. "Have you eaten yet?" Even she tried not to be overbearing, she could not help but fuss over him in some way. Fortunately, he refrained from complaint.

     As if to spare him from further nagging, the Servant was mildly surprised by Irisviel's appearance. Arturia had been meaning to check up on her after their rescue from Einzbern Castle, but it seemed that there was no rest for the weary. At least the impromptu snowball battle had provided a window of opportunity. For the moment, however, jade eyes blinked owlishly at the request. "A...cat? I had not noticed the presence of one..."

     In other words, it was quite good at catting, if it had evaded even her notice...though she doubted it had escaped Bedivere's. She turned a quizzical look at the pale-haired knight, the unspoken thought which might as well have been out loud for all their understanding. /Have you seen it?/

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Bedivere cocks his head, regarding the pile of clothes, tactfully ignoring Arturia's inner conflict. Oh, he noticed it, make no mistake. He seems to notice everything when it comes to her.

"Aye. Most of it is fairly dusty, and will need a good washing and drying. As soon as spring turns over, there should be enough sun to hang it to dry." He considers the pile for a moment. "The boots would be most welcome among the villagers, I think, although they may not be of much use in the snow."

He shrugs. "Yes, but earlier. Ask the kitchen staff; one of them prepared a meal for me at my request."

Incidentally, there aren't too many animals in Dun Realtai, these days. A few horses and the odd ox to help with hauling construction materials, but for the most part, the place is eerily barren. Whatever force had brought the town low had wiped out most of the animal life, and virtually all of the vegetation; the only things untouched were the forest north of the castle, and the single oak tree towering over the inner bailey. Maybe some enterprising soul had brought a cat with them to control nonexistent vermin.

So it's a bit strange to hear someone calling after one.

"A lion?" That seems to bring the knight to blink once or twice, quirking a brow. Good heavens, one would hope he'd hear about it if a lion got loose in the castle. Unless... "No. A cat? There are no cats here, Lady Einzbern," he says, with a shrug to Irisviel. "Something happened here, a long time ago, and there are no animals but for the horses and oxen in the stable. You must be mistaken... or perhaps the Fair Folk have taken an interest in you. Let us hope that is not the case."

There's the briefest twitch of his head in response to Arturia's questioning look. No, there just aren't any domestic animals here beyond the beasts of burden, so how a cat got here is well beyond him.

Emiya Kiritsugu (603) has posed:
    "It was apparently in Illyasviel's room. I went to check on her and it went right out the door like a shot! I thought maybe she had picked it up somewhere or maybe Kiritsugu got it for her, but if there are no such animals here..." Irisviel taps her cheek with one finger, looking thoughtful. Then she smiles all n_n as she comes to a realization. "I guess it must have been a ghost cat! What a relief!" A ghost is a relief!?

    She claps her hands together and says, "Well, since that mystery is solved, would it be terribly intrusive if I joined you two for a little while?"

    Irisviel takes note of the papers and ledgers and says, "Perhaps I could even make myself useful by helping you organize things!" Would she even know what to do with a ledger? Fast learner though she may be, that probably isn't something that falls within her realm of experience. She might be better suited to dealing with ghost cats.

    Irisviel looks at Bedivere while waiting to find out if she should stay or leave and smiles mischievously as she comments, "Oh-hoh~? I almost didn't recognize you looking healthy, rested, and not covered in snow, Sir Bedivere!" Then she looks down at herself in her newest outfit and says, "Though I suppose I was rather snow-covered as well. Saber has quite good accuracy!"

    She pauses when she thinks about the suggestion of faerie folk. It took her a bit to think if she knew much about them, but ultimately she has to admit, "I... Am not certain what threat fair-folk pose. Should I be concerned if one is masquerading as a cat in my daughter's care? A ghost would be easier to deal with, but I have no idea how to defend against fair folk."

Saber (346) has posed:
     Perhaps amusingly to some, Arturia knew full-well he had ignored her internal debate; he was much too observant not to have noticed. Nevertheless, she had taken the high road...or, rather, the road less travelled. In this instance, the road less nagged. "In the summer months, certainly...if all goes well and the land is restored, be they crops or pasturelands."

     the King of Knights nodded her approval. "Good. It would not do if you had gotten so caught up in your work that you simply forgot." Because she knew very well that he had done so many times in the past...if not in Dun Realtai, then in Camelot. Fortunately, she no longer needed to worry about concealing her concern over accusations of favouritism. And at this point in time, such accusations would be accurate; she did indeed favour her marshal.

     A brief nod acknowledged Bedivere's answer. Indeed, it seemed odd that, with the complete lack of all but a handful of animals, the lands were devoid of life. And those animals would have likely perished had it not been for Union-provided supplies. Cattle, especially, required considerable amounts of feed, which would have been stored before the winter.

     Which, given how many different varieties of Fair Folk seemed to be taking a sudden interest in the place, his assessment was likely correct. "Ah...given the nature of these lands, I do not believe it to be a ghost, either, Irisviel. I think perhaps...it is a manner of creature called a 'Cat Sith', a fae creature. They appear to have taken an interest in these lands as of late, though I cannot discern precisely why that is."

     Her otherwise impassive mien instantly dissolved into a smile at her request, betraying a fondness which might have seemed peculiar. "By all means. You are most welcome to join us."

     As if to emphasise her acceptance, Saber plucked a teacup from the service and set it down in front of an empty chair after filling it. "Ah, forgive me if I injured you in any way," she apologised with a hint of sheepishness. "I was rather caught up in the moment." Which, given stoicism matching Bedivere's, was quite the event.

     Her expression sobered slightly on the subject of the fae. "Perhaps it means no harm...the Tylwyth Teg are a mercurial lot. Some are benevolent, some simply mischievous, and a few malicious. They all, however, do not think as human beings do. Their ways and thinking are alien."

     She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I do not believe this cat sith...if indeed that is what it is...means you any harm beyond simple pranks, if even that. Still, I would urge some measure of caution, merely to be safe."

     In all, the King of Cats was far preferable to a watery murderhorse.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
The pale-haired knight merely shrugs at that mystery, although the gesture could be in response to the request to join the table. He doesn't seem to have any particular stake in it, either way. What's one more sidhe taking an interest in all things Dun Realtai? Whatever it really is, it can't be any more dangerous than the kelpie in the lake.

"No," he responds flatly, to her request to help, and shakes his head to punctuate the point. "I handle the ledgers personally. My king checks them, but they are my responsibility."

There won't be any convincing him otherwise, to go by his tone of voice. It's one of the few things Arturia lets him do right now, and by God, he's not giving that up.

"Leave it be, I would say." He shrugs again. "Perhaps it is simply curious. I do not think it would be harassing your daughter if it had any ill intent; it would have found itself a more high-profile guest, I think, or come directly to me. I am the one these creatures are watching. They are nervous, for they know not which way the leadership of this land will turn."

He considers for a moment. "Best speak to Master Merlin if it does create any problems, however. He would know best what is to be done; he is experienced in dealing with such creatures." He's closer to the Otherworld than most. "And I must agree with my king. Remain vigilant, and cautious."

Emiya Kiritsugu (603) has posed:
    Irisviel seats herself at the table, taking note of Bedivere's insistence that she not help. Though she tries to remain serious regarding the discussion of fair folk, she can not help but smile a little at how possessive the knight is of his duty. "I would never dream of interfering then." Turning wine-red eyes on the King of Knights, Irisviel smiles happily and says, "No serious injuries occurred, and I had fun! I also got to meet another Illya! Though the younger of the two isn't sure what to make of her, she mostly seems to be treating her as an older sister rather than a replacement or imposter. Which is fortunate, because I'm not sure how to explain that I want to spend time with both of them otherwise."

    Irisviel holds out her phone suddenly and says, "By the way, um... Could one of you show me how to use this?"

Saber (346) has posed:
     The speed with which Bedivere turned down the offer of help was mildly amusing, Arturia had to admit. She hid a smile behind her teacup as she lifted it to her lips, but it was a useless effort. He would have seen it, and more importantly, knew her disposition and her way of thinking. Bedivere hated feeling useless every bit as much as she did, and if he was forbidden from strenuous work, he would cling to that which he was permitted. In a way, it was her own fault for appointing him as lord over Dun Realtai. She had understood full-well that, should she assign him to a land, he could potentially work himself to death over it. That sort of dedication made him an ideal choice, though his propensity to overwork himself would make him a short-lived one if she didn't remind him every so often.

     In retrospect, it had been a boon that the people assumed they were a noble lord and lady, otherwise looking after him would have proved much more difficult.

     Her smile broadened slightly at the white-haired alchemist. "Ah, that is good. I had been concerned that there would be...difficulties, considering the nature of our different realities. But, that is good. Perhaps they will be able to have something of a normal life...if only a little."

     Saber's smile broadened again at the rquest for help in using her phone. That task naturally fell to her; as someone from her own time without the benefit of knowledge from the Holy Grail, Bedivere still struggled with the sea of new technology he had been abruptly thrust into. And he continued to be suspicious of such things in general, though he had acclimated to the Union's radio reasonably well.

     Holding out her hand, Saber replied, "I have some experience with such devices. Allow me."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
The pale-haired knight takes his teacup in hand. It's hard to imagine him as one of the Round Table's most formidable warriors with such delicate features. His fingers are slender and almost delicate against the china he so carefully holds; fingers made for plucking harp-strings, not swinging swords.

Violet eyes flick to the phone, regarding the thing blandly. It might be that he's more comfortable with technology and adept enough in the use of his own radio, but to Saber goes that particular honour. At least, that's what his bland look to her seems to say.

To other Illyas, he doesn't seem to have much to say, either. He's not particularly good with such a precocious child, and his relationship with the older Illya and Chloe consisted of yelling at them for locking gulliable Gawain in a closet, so... he hasn't really gone out of his way to interact with any of them. He's been much too busy with more serious matters, like trying to keep Dun Realtai afloat through the winter.

Emiya Kiritsugu (603) has posed:
    Irisviel delicately places the phone in Saber's waiting palm, for a moment her dainty fingers resting upon the Servant's in a manner not unlike a lady accepting the waiting hand of a gentleman. She withdraws her own hand eventually, as she says, "I admit to not being sure what exactly a 'normal life' entails, but I think that, thanks to Kiritsugu, I've had something like one - at least a little. I've gotten to learn about the world, to fall in love, get married, have a daughter... And make friends." That last part she says while looking from Saber to Bedivere and back.

    "I have met some very interesting people and seen some amazing things. And if the future holds what I think it does, we may get to see many more!" Iri squints at Bedivere and says, "The younger Illya even said that she respected your skills as a 'snow warrior', Sir Bedivere, after getting knocked off her feet by your counter attack. You two may have had a rough start, but after seeing you with the village children, I think you and she could get along well. She might even learn something from you."

    Then Irisviel lifts her tea cup with a thankful nod for the beverage and, right before sipping from it, says, "You might make a splendid father some day." THEN she sips only to move directly to the next topic of conversation a moment later, completely innocently. "So, you said speaking to this 'Merlin' might help clarify things?"

Saber (346) has posed:
     Arturia's interactions with the various incarnations of Ilyasviel had been limited as well, other than perhaps the Christmas gifts she had sent. Before her Unification, the Servant had had no true contact at all, observing her playing with her father out in the snow while she remained with Iri inside. That Ilya had been doomed to a life as the tool of the Einzberns and their centuries-old fool's errand...but the rescue of mother and daughter from the castle had freed them of that fate. But only time would tell if they were cursed to a different but hardly less-tragic fate...though Saber was determined to find some way to avert that.

     It might have been ironic that the flaxen-haired knight spoke of a normal life, something she had never known for herself. From the moment she had drawn Caliburn from its stone and claimed her birthright, she had given up such a life for herself. Yet, that had been a choice she had made willingly, with her eyes wide open. The homunculi should be given that choice, whether or not they could cheat the nature of their creation.

     And miraculously, Saber herself was granted something of a "normal" life upon coming to Dun Realtai. The place itself seemed to be a miracle...perhaps it could be that for the Emiyas.

     "I have known little of what a normal life would entail," she admitted, gazing into the teacup cradled in her hands. "Yet, I do not believe such things are forever out of reach. This place...well, I believe it is possible, here. I have found my own life here, as have others. It is not such an impossible dream."

     She smiled as she lifted the cup to her lips, listening to Iri's report of Ilya's 'battle' against the knight from Dal Riata. Yet, she had lifted her cup far too soon, nearly choking at the homunculus's innocent comment. That was likely to earn a raised eyebrow or two, especially given how red her face turned after that. And however embarrassed she was, doubtless it paled in comparison to how her marshal would react.

     "A-ah yes...Merlin was my tutor before I ascended the throne of Britain," she replied hastily, fumbling with the phone. "He is, like the fae themselves, mercurial. he has seen many things, and I daresay I cannot comprehend his ways, but...he has never led me astray. His advice is usually sound."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Bedivere considers his teacup while the women talk; or, more specifically, while Arturia takes care of the phone. While it's entirely possible for him to figure out how it works, it isn't his place to, and he wouldn't deprive Arturia the pleasure of helping.

He takes a slow sip of tea, savouring the warmth and the mildly sweet taste, and it is in fact half a second before he realises what it was that Irisviel actually said. Saber nearly chokes. Bedivere actually does choke.

Explaining Merlin's going to be all up to Saber. The marshal's no good for the next five minutes, because he's busy trying to clear tea out of his windpipe.

Emiya Kiritsugu (603) has posed:
    Irisviel sort of feels guilty for making Bedivere choke and Saber almost choke, but not really, because she thinks they're adorable together. So though she offers Bedivere whatever the closest thing to a napkin that is available might be, and says, "Sorry, sorry! I guess what I said was really surprising~!" she is not too worried. She is more concerned about his choking than anything else.

    It's true that she may not be able to negate the limitations of her own nature as an artifical life form, that she might one day just grow weak and die, but that can happen to anyone. Accident and illness can claim any life. She is no different from anyone else in that regard. So, she believes, now that she has this chance, she might be able to live as a human after all. And that, she believes, is as close to normal as she can get. Philosophical matters are put aside in favor of the answers being given regarding Merlin, all while intently watching Saber mess with the phone.

    "Hmm... It sounds as though it would make sense if he were a fae himself. I will ask him about this -suspicious cat- as soon as I am able! Curious or no, it's my duty to protect Illya!" Irisviel, in the midst of her declaration leans in close to Saber and points at one of the buttons. "-Ah, this one here with the cone and the little waves moving away from it. Do you suppose it unleashes a sonic attack?"

    It's the speaker-mode button, so she's kind of right.

Saber (346) has posed:
     For all their stoicism, those masks come crashing down so easily with just the right amount of leverage. And in Iri's case, it was not so much 'leverage' as it was taking a sledgehammer to those walls. Normally, the Servant recovered quickly enough, though at times only to prepare for another assault to her dignity. But this time, it took her a little bit longer to recover. Thank the Lord that she had another subject and task to latch onto, though she spared a worried frown obliquely at Dun Realtai's beleaguered lord.

     With a notable clearing of her throat, Saber shifted with some awkwardness into the topic of Merlin. "He is half-fae," she replied. "Or demon, though it would depend on who is asked."

     Bedivere probably suspected he was wholly demonic, given his disapproval of the wizard's forms of entertaining himself and stirring up trouble. "But he has trafficked with the Fair Folk long before my birth...if there is anyone who would be able to discern this fae's motivations, it would be he."

     Arturia blinked a few times owlishly before explaining about the phone. "Ah...that would be button for the speaker function, Irisviel."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"Most probably it is a lesser member of the Fair Folk. I would not be too concerned, but I would nonetheless continue to watch the creature." Bedivere recovers wiht great dignity, straightening and clearing his throat with another lingering cough, rubbing at it with his free hand. "Cait Sith, as my lord says. Trickster-spirits, but rarely malicious."

He simply nods in response to the description of Merlin, although it's more of a dip of his head than anything else. It looks like it's more grudging than anything else.

That's because, well, Merlin.

Emiya Kiritsugu (603) has posed:
    The white-haired homunculus makes an impressed sound at Saber's knowledge of phones as the speaker function is explained. When there is confirmation as to Merlin being half-fae (or half-demon), Irisviel seems pleased. "Oh, my guess was almost right then! I'll take your words under advisement, brave knights. I don't intend to start a conflict with fair folk, but I'll keep an eye out regardless-" Then the sound of a little girl calling out to a cat outside the Great Hall can be heard, coming closer and closer, and an orange and yellow cat goes fast-walking by at the pace of a cat who is not quite motivated to run but motivated enough to not be caught.

    Moments later Illyasviel passes by as well, arms outstretched, still calling out to 'Leo'.

    "...Ah. My apologies for the..." Irisviel turns an embarassed look on Bedivere and Saber. "...'Liveliness' that has come with our stay here."

Saber (346) has posed:
     It was not simply the faeries that Dun Realtai had apparently attracted the attention of. In fact, many oddities had somehow made their way out to the remote village, drawn by some mysterious calling. Whether it was some faint yet powerful leyline, the concentration of several Heroic Spirits, or something else, something had piqued the interest of all manner of beings. it might be that neither Arturia nor Bedivere would truly ever understand that compelling force, but it was an interest that kept them both on their proverbial toes even as they allowed their masks down for the first time in years. They could relax in Dun Realtai...though apparently, not /entirely/. There were still dangers out in the multiverse both known and unknown...and somehow, the knights had led them to their doorstep.

     "Even so, some might be searching for something...a trace of power, perhaps. Or satiation of their curiosity. But I am not worried that you would unknowingly provoke them. My concern is for your own safety, as well as that of Ilyasviel."

     As if she had summoned her, Saber could hear the voice of the homumculus child calling out for the cat -- or more likely, the faerie King of Cats -- before Ilya made her appearance searching for a 'pet' who most likely considered the pair his own pets. The Servant chuckled her reply to her mother. "Not at all. It is, in fact, most welcome. Dun Realtai is not a tomb, but a haven. Life, in whatever form it takes, will always be cherished."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
The pale-haired knight swills his tea around in his cup, looking down at it as he does, though he flicks his eyes back up at mention of the court wizard. Somehow Merlin has become something of the court wizard in this place, although the marshal has little trust for the man. There's always an ulterior motive.

He watches, somewhat nonplussed, as a cat passes by at a dignified high-step. He watches Illyasviel pass by not long after, arms outstretched and calling to the cat. Mortal or sidhe? It's hard to say by appearances alone. If there's one thing that the sidhe are very good at, it's concealing their own nature.

Then again, one could probably argue that mortal cats might as well /be/ sidhe. They're not too dissimilar in temperament or behaviour...

His gaze slides slowly back to Irisviel, and he simply shrugs in response to her apology. "As my lord says," he offers simply. "Better a town than a tomb."

Those violet eyes slide back toward where Illya vanishes, tottering after the 'kitty.'

Lifting his hand, he touches his forefinger and thumb to his mouth, and gives a single short, sharp blast. Something huge slinks into the room -- Kepas, with his grinning skull-face and vacant eye sockets, sliding smoothly into a bow before Bedivere, the better to fix the lord with those yellow lantern-lights that serve as eyes in those dark, dark sockets. He's got the look of a greyhound, sleek and smooth and made to run, but he's about the size of a very large draught-horse.

"Follow the child. See that she comes to no harm. She may be chasing after one of your kind, and I know not their motivations." He reaches out, giving the skull-face a fond pat. "Go."

Apparently the creature understands him, or at least vaguely understands what's wanted of him, for he turns and slinks away without a sound, eerily silent.

"She will be safe, at least for now. Kepas is a formidable ally," he offers, climbing to his feet with a half-smile that almost borders on sardonic. "However, if you will pardon me, I should like to take my leave. I have resting to do."

With a final bow to the two women, he takes his leave, retreating up the stairwell with little more noise than the fae-hound.