Ambrose Phivyre | 23 | M | Nightcoil Servant | Mentions: Reverie, Eirdis [Dir.] Eden [Dir.]

He awaited the reply patiently, keeping his expression polite and endearing as the woman mulled over her next words. Lady Seraphina had instructed him to be as welcoming to the other families as he was to the Nightcoils, within reason, obviously. Ambrose spared a small glance towards Reverie as the topic of his name was brought into the conversation, and from the glazed look in her eyes the young heiress hadn’t a clue. It wasn’t as though he had been serving the Nightcoils since his infancy, no, not at all.

Ambrose offered a soft smile to Eirdis. “Ambrose Phivyre, my lady. You may call me however you wish.” He settled the topic before standing back up to his full height with a dutiful nod.

“I shall return shortly.” With that, Ambrose dipped his chin in respect and began walking back towards the array of food and drink laid out. He did ponder the choice of wine, not only that, but it would be her second glass. It was only just past dawn and the Bramblefen heir was seeking out such intoxication? Was attending the gathering truly that taxing on her mind? Ambrose filed away that information to indulge to his masters when the sky grew dark, it might be an important tidbit for them to utilise in the future.

He was pouring the heavy smelling wine into the glass when he felt the prickling of a gaze in his direction. The tilting of the bottle stopped and he placed it carefully down on the bench, twisting his neck so that the tiniest sliver of his eye could peer over his shoulder. What he found was vaguely surprising, an heir was looking just to the left of him. He knew this one, an interesting case. Zephyr Goldmere, though they were rarely called by that moniker. Eden is what they preferred.

Ambrose let his own gaze fall down to the bench in front of him. Beside the wines and juices were a selection of sweet pastries and fruits, but the particular section closest to him were a set of danishes. Perhaps that is what the young heir was looking so forlorn over. The servant chanced another look towards Eden, they were indeed still looking at the small collection.

Wordlessly, as he waited for the tea to finish brewing to an adequate strength, Ambrose slipped a danish onto a small plate and held the ceramic on his upturned wrist. In the same hand, he held the teacup and saucer for his Lady Reverie. In his other hand, he held the wine glass daintily in his fingers.

Swiftly returning to the table, he offered a silent smile to his mistress and her company as he deposited their requested items, not expecting any thanks for the action.

“Enjoy. If you require my assistance again, please do call for me.” Ambrose looked between the two women warmly as he shifted the plate down into his grasp properly.

This could result in a dismissive comment from the Goldmere family to leave them be, however they were prey animals afterall, Ambrose assumed that they wouldn’t have the gall to pipe up dramatically to a Nightcoil affiliate. The dining hall was cleared quickly with long strides, stepping to the side of Eden where they spoke gently with their family members. Leaning his torso down, Ambrose slid the plate down from behind Eden’s shoulder, forcing himself to be close to the heir, unknowingly stirring the pot.

“You appeared as though you were still hungry, Lord Goldmere.” He kept his voice gentle and low, respectful of the higher ranking of the person even though they were outside of his household responsibilities. “I thought I might bring you something more to settle your hunger.” Ambrose hummed as the plate met the table and he leaned back up, looking down his nose at the heir. “Please summon me if you need further assistance.” With that, Ambrose escorted himself back towards the other servants obediently.

Harlan Coltsfoot Goldmere | 28 | M | Bound | Eldest Goldmere | Mentions: Haze, Eden, Ivory [Dir.] Ambrose [Indir.] Aurelian [Dir.] Daria, Clarissa [Indir.]

He was grateful for the more happy reactions from his younger siblings, it made his smile return as he glanced towards Eden. Harlan found himself staring down the barrel of a comb as it was held out towards him, he couldn’t help but chuckle and gesture to the long parts of his hair.

“I look perfect!” His words were playful as he quickly tagged onto the end. “Always do.” Harlan looked pleased with himself but resigned to taking the comb anyway and pulling it through the tails of his hair as he dared to peek over at Hyzenthlay. She had returned to her meal and was completely ignoring him, which was to be expected.

“Next time, I promise, I shall arrive the night before with the rest of you.” He used his free hand to place it over his heart, grinning with his claim, even if it was ten years in the future and he doubted at 38 he would need to attend again. However, the previous comment from Eden had made him slightly uncomfortable. He couldn’t imagine the things playing through Haze’s mind, but all he could think about was the guttural scream he had heard from his sister at both of the last gatherings as she tried to make the bond. This year all three of his siblings were going to attempt to bond. He wasn’t sure his poor heart could take seeing Hyzenthlay be denied a third time, for if she was denied the next, then she would be forbidden from trying again. They had never spoken about it. They probably never would.

“I think that you will all be successful this year, I can sense it in the air. The golden age of the Goldmeres shall begin with us.” Harlan hid his fears with a confident encouragement as he placed the comb on the table and used his hand to smooth the fluffy mess on top of his head. He leaned forwards, still giving his younger siblings a wide grin.

“Especially you, Ivory, I think you’re going to do brilliantly.” His voice was softened, he knew how she thought about these things and dwelled on them for too long and let her mind spiral. She needed a dose of extra care.

Just then, an arm snaked around Eden and placed a plate before him. Harlan’s eyebrows furrowed and he sat back in his chair to watch the interaction. Particularly noting the awkward tenseness of Eden’s shoulders as the servant spoke to him. He recognised the man, Ambrose, he had been with the Nightcoils for his entire life. In fact, he had even been charged with ensuring that the Goldmere children were kept out harms way when their parents had meetings decades ago.

Just as quickly as he had arrived, Ambrose had left and Harlan watched his back as he strode away towards the serving tables. It was only then that Harlan took in the rest of the room, picking out familiar faces and new ones. It was the perfectly groomed golden hair that made Harlan’s eye brighten, forcing him to stand up out of his seat.

“Enjoy your meal, I’ll do my rounds of introductions with the other families.” A half-truth, he was going to talk to another family, yes, but no introductions were needed when it came to Harlan and Aurelian.

His arrival at the other table was jarringly quick, he swung into position and clamped his palms down on Aurelian’s shoulders from behind and squeezed with a surprising amount of strength for a rabbit. There were two women with him, he recognised them as younger Whitethorn heiresses, but not much more.

“Aurelian!” Harlan beamed, giving another heartfelt squeeze, the volume of his voice louder than required for the room they were in. His face contorted into a delighted expression, his eye bright with borderline hysterical excitement.

“I haven’t seen you since we ran into each other in that tavern! I still cannot believe the heir of Whitethorn was in such a decrepit inn, you must have been in dire need of a drink.” Harlan’s laughter boomed from his chest as he moved from behind Aurelian to take up position beside him, keeping one hand firmly on the other heir's shoulder. It was now that Harlan looked up to the other two heirs and offered his attention.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintances." He bent at the waist in a deep bow to the two women. "Harlan Goldmere, at your service." He cooed, righting himself with a crooked smile. None of these heirs had been at the last gathering to make their bonds, they had been too young, not only that, they had not witnesses Harlan's binding ritual. They were too young to remember, he was almost too young at the time to recall it as well. If it hadn't of been such an intense experience, he would've forgotten all about it by now.

Aurelian nodded along to Daria's words. He had little doubt that Mara would be bound without any issues on this first attempt, and hoped she would never suffer the pain of a failed binding as he had. But Mara would surely take after Daria and find the process a smooth and easy one. He opened his mouth to add to the conversation and reinforce that sentiment, but paused when a shadow fell beside him.

A wave of relief washed over Aurelian as the Bramblefen Chieftess appeared at his side. There was no one, outside his sisters, present at this Gathering he trusted more, and Brynhildr's friendly demeanour was always a breath of fresh air compared to the tense diplomacy of these events. He returned her smile with genuine affection, his entire posture loosening as the tension visibly bled out of him.

"Brynhildr! Things have been as well as they can be for us, I hope it is the same for you?" On the surface, it would appear as though he was merely trying to sidestep the delicate matter of the younger heir and her grief, or even the instability of skins, by couching his response as things being as well as they could be. But given his long history and friendship with Brynhildr, he had full confidence she would understand that he was referring to the tensions between families and the strain it was placing on the Whitethorns' mediations, and the arguments he always had with his family over politics. Hopefully they would find time soon for one of their usual discussions, as they always brought some level of comfort, even when he knew how the conversation would play out long before either of them spoke.

Gesturing a hand towards Mara, he added, "And yes, my youngest sister Marayena is here for her first time." Keep an eye out for her, please, he wanted to add, but didn't. Instead, he gave Mara a nod, trying to tell her that Brynhildr was safe, was someone she could talk to without worrying about all the scheming. Daria would likely criticise his unbending trust in Brynhildr, but he had long since stopped listening to any critiques of their friendship. If Mara did spend time with Brynhildr, he hoped his friend would have the sense to avoid the more controversial politics that the pair shared, given how adamant he had been about keeping Daria safe from those discussions in the past.

Hands clamped down on his shoulders before he could say anything more.

Oh god. Not him.

The good mood that had been brought on by Brynhildr's arrival was almost instantly evaporated. There was only one person with the impropriety to sneak around and grab him from behind, and Harlan's voice was unmistakable. Couldn't he have let Aurelian finish his breakfast? Surely it was too early for this. Maybe if he moved suddenly enough or made a loud enough noise, the headache that was surely tormenting the rabbit would send him away.

He managed to arrange his face into something polite and pleasant as Harlan moved to stand beside him, offering a slightly strained smile. "Harlan. I was there to aid one of the patrons, not partake myself. It was hardly my kind of establishment." And it shouldn't have been your kind, either, went unspoken, but Aurelian was sure the implication was clear. Well, clear to everyone except the eldest Goldmere, perhaps, given the stench of alcohol that wafted off of him.

Aurelian shot a look at the hand that remained firmly clamped on his shoulder, like a particularly unwelcome barnacle. At the very least Harlan had managed to avoid touching any of the mantle's antlers, but irritation welled up in him regardless. As Harlan bowed to his sisters, he tensed, any lingering relaxation from Brynhildr's arrival completely vanishing.

"My sisters, Daria and Marayena. And you would know Chieftess Brynhildr Bramblefen, I'm sure." He didn't offer any further details, and he felt a small spark of regret about drawing Harlan's attention to Brynhildr, but surely she would understand his desire to keep this irresponsible disaster far away from his sisters.

With any luck, and surely Aurelian was owed a little luck at this point, Harlan would get the hint that he would find no interesting conversations here, and would simply leave to torment someone else. It had never really worked as a strategy before, so he had little hopes that it would free him from the conversation this time around, but he still had to try just in case the universe decided to take pity on him. Aurelian very pointedly did not think about the remaining days of the Gathering and just how many opportunities Harlan would have to speak at him.

Daria Malory Annora Whitethorn | 21 | Bound | Second youngest Whitethorn heiress | Mentions: Bryn (dir), Auri (dir), Mara (dir), Predator families (ind), Harlan (dir), open!

Daria remained silent at Brynhildr's approach. She glanced at her sister as the woman spoke; Mara had brightened, looking as though she wanted to speak as well, but didn't. Good girl; she was being wise with her words. Better not give the other heirs too much of an impression of her, lest they latch on like vultures to any sign of weakness.

Auri had relaxed at Brynhildr's approach, which bothered Daria less than it used to. In her teenage years, she had harboured a fierce distrust of all the other Families—Auri had often been on the receiving end of her rants—but more recently, she had gained some respect for the Prey families. And lost a significant amount more for the Predators. They were simply too aggressive, domineering... Daria shook off the thought. No use lamenting it now.

Auri spoke to Brynhildr, introducing Mara. Daria, surprisingly, did not find protest to this. She trusted Mara now to be careful, and if Mara was going to befriend anyone (as was often her intention), Brynhildr was likely the best option. At the very least, Brynhildr would not go for Mara's throat the way some of the Predators intended to, if the occasional leering glares were any indication.

Mere moments later, Auri stiffened as Harlan Goldmere slammed hands down on his shoulders. His face soured and Daria, admittedly, felt a mite of amusement. Auri's long-standing hatred of Harlan was something Daria quite enjoyed about the Gathering—it was humorous to watch her brother so aggressively annoyed. On the other hand, she did feel for him. Harlan was boisterous.

Auri and Harlan exchanged words, and Harlan greeted Daria and Mara as politely as one could expect from a... was he still drunk? Daria wasn't quite sure. At any rate, the stench of alcohol wafting off him turned her stomach. Daria shifted her gaze to Mara, hoping the girl wasn't too uncomfortable. Or eager, considering how keen she was on meeting other heirs.

Clarissa Marayena Ardor Whitethorn | 19 | Not bound | Youngest Whitethorn heiress | Mentions: Daria (dir), Harlan (dir), Auri (dir), Bryn (dir)

Mara smiled at Harlan as he offered her and Daria a gallant bow. He was forward and, likely, quite unpredictable, but she appreciated his good cheer. Although, he smelled like intoxication, which soured Mara's stomach (like Daria, she did not take well to strong drinks).

When Daria glanced at her, Mara dropped the smile and instead shifted a bit closer to her sister. Daria would want reassurance that Mara would steer clear of Harlan, this much she knew.

"Chieftess Brynhildr is amicable," Daria murmured, quiet enough that only Mara could hear. "The Duke of Goldmere is unwieldy."

Mara glanced up to smile at the Chieftess. Her arm brushed Daria's as she replied, "He's quite brash. How do he and Auri know each other so well?"

"Not for lack of trying on Auri's part," Daria murmured wryly. "Harlan just seems to track him down, poor guy. Auri wants nothing to do with him."

"I can tell," Mara whispered back, fighting a smile. "Harlan seems quite interested in Auri, though."

Daria glanced up at the pair and then back at Mara, eyes sparkling. "He does, doesn't he?"

"There's definitely some fancy there, I think."

Daria nudged Mara with her shoulder. "Poor Auri! Just imagine being involved with Harlan Goldmere."

Mara giggled. "They wouldn't last a week, Auri would kill the man in his sleep."

"No! He's far too polite."

"Just look at him, Dari. He's so tired of him."

Daria grinned, but it faded quickly. "Of course, it would be frowned upon. Perhaps we shouldn't speculate."

Mara sobered as well. "Auri doesn't tolerate Harlan well anyway."

"Well, no one does, truly."

Mara snuck a peek at her brother. She and Daria had been speaking quietly enough that Mara was fairly certain Harlan and Brynhildr hadn't heard, but Auri seemed to have a knack for picking up on his sisters' murmurings and might well have. Mara hoped not; he certainly had enough on his plate already. Besides, the thought of Harlan having a crush on her brother was ridiculous. Families didn't intermingle. Everyone knew that.

Brynhildr | 26 | Skin-bound | Cheiftess Bramblefen | Mentions: Aurelian, Mara, Harlan (dir), Eire (ind)

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻·𖥸·༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Bryn felt what might've been an uncharacteristic sense of calm in talking with Aurelian, feeling a soft wave of pride at how she put him visibly at ease (though hopefully not too visibly to the rest of the assembled heirs.) It was with as much pride as she felt putting others to their guard - fearing her name, status and reputation - that she felt for putting her allies at ease. Even those she considered friends like Aurelian, who despite their growing closeness still might hold reservations given their austere circumstances. They were heads of conflicting families above all, their own developed relationship diminishable to a mere relief in these tense political events. Even placing their shared disagreements over their society's politics aside, they both had appearances and reputations to adhere to and so even eeking a smile out of socially-concious Aurelian felt like quite an accomplishment.

Bryn could do nothing more than nod in agreement to his words. Things were... no worse than they could have been. In some ways quite stable or prosperous and then in others... She'd never been too brilliant with boundaries, even between the families, and crossing lines was as easy to her as being late to a unofficially important breakfast. She knew - hoped - they'd have other chances to speak. In complete, solacious private again, should they be so lucky. She already had topics in mind. The two of them would've had a great number of these conversations now, but what made their alliance difficult was the when and where of it all had little rhyme or reason. It made for keeping up with current events tricky, and sometimes harder to balance emotion and logic.

Like now, for example, she felt desperate to speak about her sister: her concerns for her, her fears, Eire's anger, Bryn's own ambiguous feelings of grief... Brynhildr did not - besides to those in her tightest of family circles - ever speak out about her worries over Erie. Even with her ever increasing trust in the Whitethorn heir, it would a unusual topic for her to consider indulging in. But even then, in a few hours, her focus could be sidelined by threats or tricks posed by the predator families, those of which she would rather tackle with Aurelian's quick mind well within reach. Something, anything, could come up to disrupt their time together and Bryn felt a twinge of an unknown emotion flicker at the edges of her thoughts.

A prime example of that something slipped into view before she'd even had the chance to properly greet poor Marayana, a notible eagerness to the youngest hieress' bright smile. Harlan Goldmere - the final and third member of the Prey head of household/heirs - had come to pester poor Aurelian, who now had an attempt at a polite expression plastered over his face. Bryn could practically see it slipping as the man's every alcohol-tinged breath chipped away at Aurelian's polished exterior. He even seemed to have fallen into a grimace; Bryn did a terrible job of hiding the twitch of amusement in her lips. Poor Aurelian.

Brynhildr's smile widened, and tightened, as the Whitethorn heir brought her presence into focus. She wasn't exactly pleased in being brought into the firing line, but she understood his intent. He wanted to divert attention far away from his younger sisters, even if that meant using her as a living shield. Bryn couldn't hold that against him, she had a sister too, one who she'd throw much of the world away for if it came to it. (Although, if circumstances were different, there would be a time she would've willfully dragged Eire into the fray - her sister's youthful brashness an amusing conflict against Harlen's eccentric personality. She didn't personally view the eldest Goldmere as severe enough trouble; issues with him were more related to Aurelian's gripe.)

And besides, protection and deflect were some of her better skills.

"Of course!" She laughed, patting her calloused hand on the upper arm of Harlan's not currently attached to Aurelian's shoulder - a visibly friendly gesture, but with an unspoken undertone of 'perhaps we should let go of him now'. "We're familiar. It has a been a while... What have you been up to?" It was evident from her playful tone she meant more than just the period of time between their last acquaintance, the lingering smell of alcohol evident to everyone within a good few metres. She side-eyed Aurelian too, curious about this taven run-in that had been mentioned, piquing her interest.

Harlan Coltsfoot Goldmere | 28 | M | Bound | Eldest Goldmere | Mentions: Aurelian, Brynhildr [Dir.] Daria, Marayena [Dir.]

His eyes danced between the two women as Aurelian introduced them by name, though from their facial structure he could tell they were related to the man under his palm. The Whitethorns had a certain look about them that separated them from the other families, a regality and poise just enough different from the others that Harlan could notice it. Whether or not his own siblings or other houses acknowledged or even noticed that detail was unknown to him. He found it endearing, haha, endearing.

“Daria, Marayena.” Harlan repeated back, turning to each woman in turn and dipping his head in respect again, although it was a little lopsided and clumsy. He didn’t feel the lingering liquor in his system, he was certain he had sobered up entirely, but he didn’t have much decorum in the first place.

Harlan straightened up and twisted his neck to peer over at the other person on the table and a small light bulb fired off inside his brain. Brynhildr, yes he remembered her well. He wasn’t a complete fool, despite acting like one, Harlan noted the tautness in the heiress’s smile as he met her eyes. There were restraints in place, she was pulling her smile into place and it certainly wasn’t genuine.

The firm clasp of her hand repeatedly on his arm solidified that fact, it was a touch too solid to be meant in complete friendliness. Harlan paused for a heartbeat before his own smile beamed into existence and he weaseled his way into a free spot on the bench beside Aurelian, the action pulling his hand free from the heir’s shoulder. Still, he seated himself comfortably close, perhaps just close enough to be irritating he pondered but didn’t shift his position.

“Oh, Brynhildr, you would have to listen all day and all evening to hear the stories of my adventures recently.” He mused warmly, a chuckle accompanying his words as he tipped his head to the side. “Although Aurelian could most certainly fill you in on parts of it, I cannot seem to avoid him. He’s always around the taverns, this one.” Harlan jested, pairing it with a playful nudge of his shoulder into the aforementioned heir.

“At least the ones near our grounds, Auri does not like to travel far from familiar ground. I never understood why! The world out there is meant to be explored. The nature, the people, the women, and not to mention the cuisine!” Harlan finished with a small shake of his head, completely breezing over the usage of a nickname for the head of another household. If it had been another head of house speaking in such a casual manner, it would have caused a far bigger issue than the few side long glances he was currently receiving.

He had always thought it was rather obscure that the households were so segregated, so rigid in their ways that they could not even joke with each other. No true friends, there was always some undercurrent of business or fishing for black mail and tidbits of information to be used against them in future disagreements. How their families had survived this long was a mystery to Harlan, if they kept up the bickering and infighting then they would surely all be facing a crumbling of their heritage. After all, every pelt was disintergrating. There were not many left, Harlan knew this well. The only reason the Goldmere's were doing so well in that area was the sheer volume of pelts they had in their possession. The blessing of being a rabbit, he supposed.

Hyzenthlay Valerian Goldmere | 28 | F | Unbound | Goldmere | Second Eldest Heir | Mentions: Eden, Ivory, Harlan [Dir.] Ambrose [Indir.] Harlan, Aurelian, Daria, Marayena [Indir.]

Her twin’s arrival was anything but regal as he sprang into the room with an energy that most certainly did not match the environment. His clothes were dishevelled and his voice far too loud as he announced himself, springing towards the rest of his family. He had been gone now for eight months. Eight months she had been organising their house on her own, ensuring that their grounds were taken care of, that their work was being completed, that their younger siblings were alive and well. Even then, he had only been home a fleeting month before leaving. In the past two years, Hyzenthlay had spoken to her brother so few times that she could count it on her fingers.

And now, the breezy way he sat amongst them and cheerfully spoke as though nothing was wrong made Haze’s skin crawl with frustration and a backlog of anger. Anger that he couldn’t see how she was struggling under the weight of ensuring the Goldmere’s were surviving, it was slowly morphing into resentment. Not only for Harlan but for the household itself, a bloodline that never truly showed her or her twin any kindness so why should she be breaking her bones again in order to ensure it survived.

There was a speck of fire in her chest that wanted to prove them wrong, that she could form a bond and that she was stronger than they could have ever expected. The twisted posture, the misaligned shoulders and hobbled walk. She wanted to show them that she was more than what they had forced her to participate in, more than the injuries they had forced upon her.

In the midst of her rumination, Harlan’s voice cut through and she couldn’t help but push her cutlery back onto the table, causing a sharp sound to ring out across the room.

“You should have been here last night.” She managed to hiss out between her teeth, ripping her gaze up from her plate to scowl at Harlan, her nose wrinkled and brows pushed down low. His weak-willed apology did little to placate her as he continued his conversation with Eden and Ivory.

Hyzenthlay stared down at her meal, her features relaxing as she let out a silent sigh. Her appetite was gone, ruined by the turmoil of emotions in her skull, so much so that she abandoned her cutlery on the table and settled on observing her brother instead.

A familiar looking servant had approached, Ambrose, but Haze did not acknowledge him as he spoke quietly to Eden and placed something in front of him. Her sibling must have ordered another bite to eat whilst she was fretting over her twin. There was little to observe as Harlan quickly uprooted himself from the group after Eden had received a small plate and scurried over towards, ah, Aurelian. She didn’t know how that man had the strength to not yell at Harlan, he pestered the other heir so much that she felt a smidge of pity for him.

Haze didn’t give it much of a longer thought, especially as Harlan began to perform for the two younger female heirs, Aurelian’s sisters. A regular performance of Harlan’s, it was as though the man was incapable of not flirting with everything that had a pulse. Along those lines, her eyes trailed towards Eden as she noticed how rigid he had gone.

“Eden? Why do you look as though you have just eaten a chilli pepper? Your face is terribly red, you didn’t come down with something on the journey here, did you?” Hyzenthlay forgot about Harlan in that instant as she began to fret over her sibling, worry etched into her face as she leaned towards them.

Aurelian glanced over at his sisters, hearing their murmurings, and fought against the eye-roll he desperately wanted to send their way. As entertaining as the thought may be, he highly doubted that Harlan - even as persistent as he was - was approaching him for that reason. No, he suspected that the other man simply capitalised on the polite tolerance that Aurelian tried to maintain, particularly given the amount he'd seen Harlan talking the ear off of various equally drunk patrons. That particular law was one he suspected that even Harlan, with his rampant disrespect for the propriety expected of him and the positions of the families, would be loathe to violate. At least so publicly, given that the far more sensible twin would be likely to kill him on the spot were he to be so egregriously against the law. Though perhaps Aurelian shouldn't consider it quite so impossible, given who Harlan was.

He shot a thankful look at Brynhildr as she tried to redirect Harlan's attention away from him, a more genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth at the rather insistent pats she gave his arm. Alas, her efforts were in vain. They always were. The brief flash of hope he felt as Harlan's hands dislodged from his shoulders vanished just as quickly as the space next to him on the bench was occupied.

Aurelian briefly considered moving his elbows conveniently to the side while finishing his breakfast, particularly after the nudge to his shoulder. Surely a pointy jab here and there wouldn't be too noticeably intentional. But that wasn't a risk he was willing to take, given the state of things at this Gathering, so instead he politely - but pointedly - shifted over slightly, under the guise of giving Harlan more space at the table.

He suppressed a sigh at Harlan's words. He wouldn't be at the taverns nearly so often if he weren't summoned to keep an eye on any arguments that cropped up. Mediating discussions between the families was taxing enough. Mediating between drunkards? Aurelian considered it a miracle that he didn't spend every night in his cups as a result. Given the side-eye he was receiving from Brynhildr, those were stories he was sure to have to explain later, when he could complain as much as he wished about the behaviour of the general public after imbibing far too much. He gestured at the bench space by his side - the side not occupied by Harlan - offering a seat at the table, should she wish to endure Harlan's endless fountain of conversation with him.

Aurelian's tolerance almost ran out, however, when Harlan made the decision to refer to him as Auri. There were exactly three people permitted to call him that, all of them at this table, and none of them being the drain on his patience that was the eldest Goldmere. It would do no good to cause a scene, however, particularly when Harlan was involved. Shame seemed to slide off the man like water off the back of a duck, and the Whitethorns would be the only family anyone remembered being involved.

"Aurelian." He corrected, in a casual tone, before continuing as lightly and jokingly as possible, given the circumstances. "And yes, I do seem to be asked to come supervise disagreements at the taverns where you are more often than those you are not. Perhaps I should start asking you for your expected route, so I know where I might go in advance!" Or perhaps he could simply distribute the route to establishments in the area, and see which were smart enough to close their doors. He had no evidence that Harlan was responsible for the strife that seemed to follow the man. But he had his suspicions. At the very least, such a jest allowed him to express his irritation without being perceived as uncouth or impolite.

"I have certainly travelled far from familiar grounds, but I am as ever bound by responsibilities to my home, and have little time for exploring far-away lands or the places they have to offer." A burden which you evidently have chosen not to share, he didn't add. "Besides, I think you'd be far more likely to cross my path at a library than a tavern." Why he'd admitted such a thing, he didn't know. Irritated regret welled up within him as soon as the words left his mouth, desperately hoping Harlan wouldn't perceive it as an invitation of any kind. Although, he considered, Harlan was hardly likely to spend his hours between shelves of ancient books and tapestries when he could instead while away his time amongst alcohol-stained tables.