I Lived, Grinch! [open post]

[summerdude]

The first thing Magnus does -- with Alex's help -- after fully healing is board up the hole in the side of the greenhouse where the cheetah ran through. The second thing, once he learns the full scope of Dark (it's different at camp; he'd already taken out a ton of camp-appropriate food for when Galahad and Laertes couldn't make it out there, and so he and Alex have been fine on the eating front) is go to the greenhouse again to figure out what plants in there yield edible produce. (Also, he tries to scrub his blood off the table. It... partially works?)

Partly it's that he's still feeling weird after the whole affair. The season doesn't help, but he does feel closer to his own mortality than pretty much any point since he died for real the first time. Being around growing plants helps that. Mostly, though, it's because he doesn't want anyone to get, like, scurvy living on bushels of rice alone.

He doesn't want to overtax any of the plants, but some can be cajoled into fruiting. Right now, he's got his hand on a kumquat tree, and he's trying to convince it that it can speed up the growth process by a few weeks. Drosera is with him, 'helping:' she's found a dead leaf, and she's chasing it down the pathway between some plants. If anyone shows up -- either because they've heard of his near-death experience and want to check in on him, or just to hang out, or even because they're drawn by the way it looks like sunlight is coming from the greenhouse itself -- he'll be glad for the company.

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[summerdude]

Thoughtlessly, Magnus drags some of the warmth along with them. "She's a good griffin," he agrees. "I wish there was more concrete knowledge about what they need, but Ragnelle's been real helpful dredging up all she can remember about 'em, even though they're not trees. And Susan gave me and Galahad a starting point, and like I said, Mothwing and Angus have been really helpful. Separately. So I guess it's true, what they say. It takes a village." He grins a Laertes. "I'm excited to introduce her to Szarka. She did real well with Hanguang-jun's rabbits."

[timebethine]

"We'll have to introduce them soon. Szarka's become a very well-behaved young lady; she needs Drosera's mischief to set her upon the right path."

[summerdude]

Magnus laughs. "Your husband might have something to say about that."

[timebethine]

"He'll be there to be sure her training isn't ruined."

[summerdude]

"And to keep two eyes on the adolescent griffin, no doubt," Magnus nods.

[timebethine]

"Does she need more than two eyes upon her?"

[summerdude]

Magnus snorts. "I think it depends on who you ask," he says.

[timebethine]

"What mischief has she been up to, of late, besides eating buttons?"

[summerdude]

Magnus abruptly blushes. "Oh, you know," he says, vaguely. "She likes being the center of attention."

[timebethine]

Laertes clocks that blush; his tone turns teasing. "And how does Alex bear these interruptions?"

[summerdude]

If anything, his blush intensifies. "It depends," he says. "Usually she thinks it's funny."

[timebethine]

"Good. There's nothing like thy beloved's laughter, is there?"

[summerdude]

Magnus sighs happily, blush subsiding. "You can say that again."

[timebethine]

They're approaching Magnus's campsite now, and Laertes starts to look around for anything vaguely chapel-like.

[summerdude]

"Alex?" Magnus calls, as they approach. "You here?"

She doesn't answer though, so he shrugs. He's glad she's getting settled and doing her own thing. "It's this way," he tells Laertes, ducking through the spindly, snowy humps of a bunch of midwinter bushes.

It's about fifty yards from camp, close enough to be within shouting distance but far enough that it feels private. The oak tree that Magnus spent so much time climbing is clearly in the middle of a transformation. Some of the branches are longer and heavier; many have changed the angle of their growth. A discerning eye will recognize a few are in the shapes of runes, which Magnus is more familiar with than crosses: perthro, the empty cup of fate that Hearthstone used to symbolize the family they'd created back in the Nine Worlds; dagaz, for transformations; kenaz, the smouldering fire of life; fehu, Frey's rune, the shape of Jack in pendant form, since that's the only way Magnus knows how to pray; othala, for inheritance and being able to take on the burdens laid before you.

The runes are all subtle, though. Alex keeps assuring Magnus that they're not super eye-catchy, and that they're only really noticeable if you know what you're looking for. Magnus picked them all carefully, of course, with Galahad in mind. It's not real runic magic -- Magnus isn't willing to make the sacrifices necessary to be able to cast runic spells -- but it felt a little like it when he was growing them, like he can make the space feel like home for Galahad.

The real eye-catcher is the cross. Magnus doesn't know a lot about crosses, so he grew it in the way that felt most natural for the oak tree. It's in the style of a Celtic high cross, with more runes and crosses in the weave of the smaller branches making up part of its body. It's clearly unfinished. Magnus has been spending most of his time and energy growing food for the people here, but he still has dedicated enough that it looks like it's been shaped in this way for at least a decade, rather than just three weeks. He hasn't found a bell yet, so the wind chimes are still hanging above it, tinkling in the cold wind blowing through the forest.

There are other things, of course. He hasn't figured out what else to do with the space, so there's a snowy pile of pillows he's going to have to throw out after winter, and one of the many little roosts he's set up for Drosera around camp is lodged about four paces away from the space he's been growing. He thinks maybe he could fit a tabernacle, whatever that is, on the branch he used to read on. It's not great for supporting einherji anymore, given how it's now curved, part of it growing down into the cross, part of it growing up into something that could, conceivably, turn shelf-like, but that's fine. There are more trees.

"So, uh. Here we are," he says, gesturing vaguely.

[timebethine]

Laertes peers around at the clearing with naked awe. His first thought is, this place feels unholy--but that's not true, exactly. It feels holy the way lightning and the deep ocean and eclipses are holy: masterless and sublime, beautiful in a way that has nothing to do with men.

He thinks of Galahad, who has lived his whole life by the wheeling cycle of prayers and fasts and Latin masses, and he thinks of Galahad's gentle blasphemies. Claudius painted like an icon, one hand raised in benediction, a serpent twined about his wrist and a bitten apple like a drop of blood in his other hand.

Galahad will not find the order of his youth here. He will find something more elemental--a faith like a thunderclap that reorders the world in unfamiliar shapes.

"It's perfect," says Laertes, low and reverent.

[summerdude]

Magnus immediately flushes. "You, uh. You really think so?"

[timebethine]

"I do. Whatever faith Galahad will find here--it will be a faith that he can abide."

[summerdude]

"So it has churchy vibes?"

[timebethine]

"No," Laertes admits. "But it feels like a place where one might be alone with God."

[summerdude]

"Wait, then what's the point of a church? If not to hang out with god?"

[timebethine]

A faint smile. "That is a question that no two Christians will answer alike. Ay, some think a church a place to be with God; others, that God is in all places. Some think a church glorifies God, and thus it must be made with all the richness that mortal hand can devise; others, that God smiles most upon the poor and downtrodden, and a tabernacle in the wilderness is no less a church than all the cathedrals of France. Some believe--I believe--that a church is a place to be among the faithful, and to learn the precepts of faith, and to take part in the sacraments that mark the faithful. Others believe that only an anchorite can sup continually from the wellspring of the divine. On this, though, all agree: a church is a place where one might seek salvation from damnation ... and I think that Galahad no longer seeks salvation. I think ... I think that, in the secret parts of his heart, Galahad hopes that God will seek his forgiveness."

[summerdude]

"I mean, yeah," Magnus says, to that very last bit. "What's an anchorite? And what constitutes damnation? The street preachers back home made it sound like it was everything, pretty much." Being among the faithful, he thinks. Oh gods. Does that mean I'll need to find more churchy people? That's gonna be a lot harder than growing Galahad a church.

[timebethine]

"An anchorite is a monk or a nun who lives a solitary life of worship and contemplation of the divine," says Laertes. "And as to what damnation is ... that's a matter of great turmoil, in my time. One is damned if one dies unshriven, with sins still writ upon God's ledger--but to repent, and to ask God's forgiveness, erases those sins and once again opens the steep and narrow path to salvation." Laertes lets his rolling, didactic tone fade back into wryness. "For my part, I cannot repent my sins. If I must choose between my husband's love and God's, I will gladly suffer torment unending, and never reach up a hand to be saved."

[summerdude]

"I think it's so stupid that the christian god is homophobic," Magnus says, rolling his eyes. The Norse gods leave a lot to be desired, but at least they're indifferent-to-positive on the sexuality front.