creator_raven | OOM: Sometimes, Raven is a little less than kin and more than kind

"Good."

He is not smiling, either, though there is nothing in his expression that might be called sharp.

"Will you, perhaps, believe me in one other thing?"

"What thing is this?"

She tilts her head slightly, searching his face.

Raven is very solemn at this moment.

It is nothing like a mask at all.

"Ace is very good at comfort, I have found. And the TARDIS, I think, is more real than this place."

He blinks, considering.

"Also there is the puppy, yes?"

He is not quite tugging her down the stairs.

Not yet.

"I would not disagree, I do not think," she murmurs.

"But I have no wish to trouble her, Raven. She has burdens enough of her own at present, as you well know."

"So do we all, I think."

This time Raven does nudge at her, just a little.

"But she is fond of you. Also distraction is often helpful."

He does smile, then, if a little crookedly.

"I am often finding it so."

"I can see how it might be, for some," she allows, and with one last quick glance upstairs past his shoulder, Moiraine half-turns back toward the bar.

"Very well."

Raven leads from behind, steering Moiraine gently as they both walk down the stairs toward the back door.

Or at least he tries.

"There is a tree, I think. Outside. Ace is also very tricky."

There have always been reasons that she is his sister.

Shared affection is only one of them.

"I have seen it before," she tells him-- but all the same, her steps slow as they draw nearer the dark shadows of trees.

Almost unconsciously, Moiraine is searching the spaces between them, looking for any sign of white napthalot and black claws.

"He is not here, I do not think."

Raven's voice is almost absent as he steps forward and tugs her with him, searching the nearby trees for a particular carved shape.

Four aces, as it were.

"I, at least, was farther in."

Ah, yes. This one.

He knocks twice, sharply.

Hurry up, Ace, before Moiraine bolts.

Raven is not a very good sheepdog.

The door opens when a third knock would have come, had he kept the same beat. A rather discheveled Ace, with a black streak of engine grease down her nose, peers out, blinking.
"Bird? ... Moiraine? Don't tell me he dragged y'out here in the cold, I would've come in, y'featherbrain. Come in, nevermind the mess, I was tryin' t'redecorate." She says as she ducks back inside, leaving the door open for them.

'Redecorating', in this case, means half of the console room looks like something out of a Gothic church, and the other half like a woodsy cottage.

Someone has been playing the the interior design controls.

"I do not wish to disturb you," she begins, even as Raven pulls her gently through the door and into the TARDIS.

"Especially if you are busy--"

Raven snorts quietly as Moiraine speaks, but busies himself in looking about the console room.

"It is pretty, I think."

Beat.

"Possibly you are having hot chocolate? And alcohol?"

And cookies, of course.

"Yeah, because, y'know, there's that chance I'll run out of time." Ace remarks drily to Moiraine as she carefully steps across the patch of floor that still hasn't figured out if it wants to be smooth stone or hard wood just yet.
"I've both, an' you well know it. I'd have t'be crazy t'take off without them." She pauses, and shrugs. "Crazier. Why?"

At this question, Moiraine flicks a quick, unreadable glance at Raven, and turns her attention to examining the line where Gothic scene meets cottage wall.

"Someone was insistent, as it happens," she replies, but she is not looking at Ace.

Raven gives Moiraine a look.

Then he looks back at Ace and rolls his eyes.

"Moiraine, I think, is having a day that is not so good."

He'll stick to 'day' for now.

"Possibly sitting is more comfortable? Also fireplaces are nice."

Since they are all qualified masters of the perfectly awful situation, it takes a certain special something to actually warrant a late-night visit.

Ace is, despite all doubts, astute enough to understand this.

"Right, library." She frowns, and prods a few buttons on the console. "Oh good. I didn't muck with that yet. C'mon." Like she would change it. It's her favorite room in the TARDIS, with the giant leaded windows showing a rain-misted rose garden, and the dark rich woods, and her desk with a small paper dragon, and the exceedingly comfy leather couch (with the football blanket draped over the back) and the fireplace, and the overall smell of very old books.

It's a wonderful place to go when the rest of the universe needs to go hang.

Although she is perhaps a little slow to turn from her examination of the wall, there is no real reluctance to follow Ace to the library, as Moiraine also remembers it well.

A faint smile, the first in some time, curves her lips as she steps over the threshold, and her gaze goes immediately to the view outside the window.

The Aes Sedai trails her fingers absently over the back of the couch as she crosses the room to look out at the roses.

It is, perhaps, unfortunate that Raven knows exactly how easy it is to be alone in a roomful of people.

Moiraine has mastered it very well.

This is probably why, as she crosses in front of the couch, something small and relatively fast-moving knocks her backwards before settling itself--himself?--comfortably in her lap.

"That, I think, is much better, yes?"

"Much." Ace agrees, heading for the dumbwaiter. "Cocoa, cookies... will y'be havin' tea Moiraine, or should I get sommat stronger?"

Magic, who's come wandering in on their heels, notes the game that seems to have started without her. She takes a running jump, lands on the couch beside Moiraine and Raven, then adds herself to Moiraine's lap with a decided flop.

Raven has judged his target well, and between the twin blows of small sturdy child and playful dog, it is a moment before she regains the breath that they had knocked out of her, enough to speak.

To Raven, she says dryly, "Would it matter if I said no?" before raising her voice to call to Ace,

"Whatever is convenient for you, I think."

Raven looks up at her, and the wry twist to his mouth is at odds with the sweetness of his face.

"That, I am thinking, is a rhetorical question."

He pushes the dog over a bit, resettling himself.

Moiraine is not a very large woman, after all, and there is limited lap space.

And if shifting so that he is almost hugging her is what is required to keep him from falling off, he will make the sacrifice.

He'd best not get too comfortable, Ace wants a seat on that couch too.

Though not necessarily in Moiraine's lap.

She has to concentrate a bit on getting the tray settled on an end table, since it is rather overloaded.
"Right, a cocoa f'Raven... an' cookies." Those are offered while she turns over the teacup. "What d'y'want in y'tea, Moiraine?"

It's all very domestic.

"Perhaps it is," she sighs, and puts an arm around the child's waist to steady him.

Moiraine allows herself to lean her cheek against the top of Raven's head, just for a moment, and then straightens up to tell Ace,

"Just tea will do, I think." A slanted look at Magic, whose tail is wagging hopefully, and she adds,

"I hope you have something for her. I do not think she would enjoy tea."

Raven obediently holds out one of the cookies for Magic.

Hopefully Ace does not mind her dog hopped up on sugar.

Then he shifts around again so that he can safely hold the cocoa.

It is fortunate that Moiraine's shoulder is a comfortable resting spot for his head, and that the crook of her arm is very snug.

Now it is time for him to eat cookies of his own--if Magic does not maul him first.

Magic crunches happily away, allowing Ace to shove her over so she can have the seat next to Moiraine.
"There, that's better. Now, is this the part where I ask, or is this the part where Raven an' I bicker over minor and rather ridiculous things t'let the rest of the night go on peacefully?"

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