One bright and cheery morning in the fall, Martin pays a long-delayed
visit to Vialle. Knocking on the door to his father's rooms, someone
calls back asking who it is.

Martin calls out, "Me, Martin."

From beyond the door, someone's voice brightens, and she calls, "Just a
moment!" - and there are footsteps, and then the door swings in and
open.

Random's sitting room is bright and airy, and uncluttered. More Vialle's
doing than Random's, really, is how Martin sees it.

Vialle waits till, from the sound of footsteps, Martin's clear of the
door's arc before she closes it.

Martin steps inside past Vialle, smiles nervously at her. "Hi, Vialle,"
he says, trying to keep the rustle of flowers behind his back quiet.

Vialle turns and smiles up toward him; she's wearing the locket he sent
her. "I wasn't expecting a visit. Not when you must be so terribly busy
- but please, won't you sit down? Would you like anything to eat, or
drink?"

Martin grins, adds lamely, "Uh, surprise." He glances over the room,
back at her, "no, I'm not hungry. Just grabbed a few minutes to come see
you."

Without another a word, he leans down and hugs her tight, one-handed.

Vialle puts her arms up about his shoulders and returns the hug, to
every evidence utterly delighted. "It's been," she says sincerely, "much
too long."

Martin holds her a long time, then pulls away some. "Too long. They
looking after you alright?"

Vialle rests her hand on his forearm, smiling. "Perfectly, Martin, I
promise. And you? How have things been?"

Martin leads Vialle towards the divans, saying, "busy. Very busy. Gerard
made me Lord of the Palace, did you hear?" he straightens as he says
this to her, unconsciously perhaps.

Vialle squeezes his forearm, lightly. "I did," she answers, not without
pleasure and pride. "He stopped in and chatted with me just a day or two
ago. Congratulations."

Martin beams, "Thanks." He pauses, seems momentarily uncertain, "Gerard
didn't have anything to say about how I'm doing, did he? I've only just
started."

Vialle assures him quickly, "Nothing unpleasant."

Martin grins, relief evident in his voice and stance, "Good. I'm... you
know, I just walked up to him one day and demanded he give me a post of
authority, so I could have my own name? And he did, just like that.
Sometimes, I'm half afraid it was all a joke."

Vialle shakes her head, the edges of her hair brushing her cheeks. "No,
not at all. If anything, he might be afraid that you were joking. It's
all been far too much for him to keep up with by himself, I think; he
only refuses to admit it."

Martin seats her down at the divans, nodding, "I know. But he's got
Wayland to look after the navy, and Antonio in Arden. Now, there's this
Hal person hanging around as well... it's not like he needs to do it all
himself."

Vialle answers, "You know that," with a touch of a smile, "and I know
that - but he feels compelled to watch all of them himself, I think. And
perhaps he's right."

Martin shrugs, "well, I know I got enough just looking after my lot." He
takes the divan across from her, flopping onto it. "I think he's got us
all watching each other, too," he adds quietly.

Vialle lifts her head, startled, even as she curls her legs beneath her
in her usual pose. "Gerard? Really? That doesn't sound like him at all."

Martin doesn't answer. "Maybe I'm just seeing it wrong," he says after a
while. "Um, here, I brought you some flowers." Something pleasantly
scented is handed towards Vialle.

Vialle lifts her hands, cautiously till her fingertips find
his, then till her fingers are wound securely about the stems. "Thank
you," she says, softer. "And thank you for the roses, before."

Martin blinks, "roses?"

Vialle says "The ones you sent with Purity, the last time you were here,
when you had to leave so suddenly."

Martin's expression darkens, but he makes no comment. Carefully, forcing
a smile, he says, "the roses, yes. You're right. I'm glad you liked
them."

Vialle pauses, and lowers the flowers, laying them lightly against the
side of her lap. "Martin?" she asks. "What's wrong?"

Irritation flickers over his face, but he makes no attempt to disguise
it before the sightless woman. "Nothing, I'm just annoyed I forgot about
the roses," he says instead. "A lot's been happening."

Vialle says "It must be, if something so small is making you so upset."

Martin bites his lip, stares at Vialle. He runs his fingers through his
hair, stalls. "I'm sorry if I worried you, Vialle," he says, not looking
at her. "And yeah, things have been pretty bad."

Vialle plucks at the cloth of her skirt for a moment with her free hand;
then sets it palm-down, flat. "What's been giving you trouble?" she
asked.

Martin considers the gentle, petite woman across from him, who has known
him all his life, and wonders how much exactly he can hide from her.

He says, quietly. "Have you heard about the attacks in Arden?"

Vialle answers - lowering her voice, most likely instinctively, to match
his - "I've heard something. It's hard to judge a negative, though: I
don't know what I might not have heard."

Martin nods, his voice grim, "There're creatures in Arden, very good at
killing Rangers, very good at getting away. They've taken a woman from
the Karm estates, and now, two children from Bayle as well."

Vialle repeats softly, "A woman and children. But no men?"

Martin shrugs, leaning back into his seat, "not yet, maybe. Dunno." he
shakes his head, "now Karm's making noises as well."

Vialle answers, "Of course Karm's making noises. It sounds as if
something's trying to provoke the Houses."

Martin nods glumly, "that's what I think, too. D'you know Antonio? He's
a Bayle, apparently. Karm's really pissed about that, too."

Vialle asks, "There's no pattern to the attacks?"

Martin shrugs, "don't know. Antonio only just got in last night, and his
report was kinda brief. But it doesn't sound like it. The Rangers have
been playing catch-up so far."

Vialle says, "If something knows Arden better than the Rangers..." She
manages to escape sounding outright distressed, but only barely. "But
what could?"

Martin just shakes his head, "from what Antonio's said, these things are
very, very fast. The Rangers know Arden. That's how they've been able to
beat them a few times now. No one's sure how many there are, or what
they're doing, or where they're coming from."

Vialle says quietly, "Then they could be - almost anywhere, really."

Martin nods, "that's why we're worried." He adds, unhappily, "and now
I've got you worried as well."

Vialle smiles, and her hand brushes over the flowers' stems. "I'm not
worried, Martin. I only wish there were something I could do to help."

Martin smiles tiredly, "stay safe."

Vialle says "I don't think that will be too terribly difficult."

Martin grins, "yeah, you've got yourself pretty much hidden away up
here, haven't you?"

Vialle lets her head tilt a little to one side, a little forward and
down. "I'm afraid so," she admits. "Still. It is half convenient. I stay
out of the way of all the people who are in a hurry, and the people who
actually want me in their way know where to find me."

Martin's smile fades a little, "you know, Gerard could probably use you
out there. If only to keep him sane," he smirks. "And it'd give you
something to do"

Vialle sighs lightly. "I'm afraid Gerard has a nearly entirely mistaken
idea of what I can and can't do," she admits, with a touch of a smile.
"But I will be about, rather - I promised to find him someone who /can/
do what he thought I could."

Martin frowns, gives up trying to understand it, moves on, "well, I
guess that means I'll see you out there one of these days, then?"

Vialle answers, "I certainly hope so. Unless you're planning to be away
for some reason or other?"

Martin chuckles, "I think I'm going to be hanging around here for a
while. But it'd be nice running into you now and again in the hall or
something."

Vialle laughs, at that. "May I apologize in advance?"

Martin smiles, "I guess not, huh? Oh, well, at least I'll know where to
find you."

Vialle shakes her head. "Oh, no," she protests, smiling. "Apologize for
running into you."

Martin laughs, "I won't hold it against you, promise. You run into me as
much as you like."

Vialle replies, "I'll try not to be carrying anything breakable when I
do..."

Martin says "I'll catch it, whatever it is."

Vialle dimples, and attempts some sort of bow or curtsy from where she
sits. "You would," she agrees.

Martin grins, abashed, runs his hand through his hair to cover his
reddening face. "Yeah, well, can't have that happening to a pretty lady,
can I."

Vialle laughs, "Martin, please," and blushes a touch herself, ducking
her head to breathe the scent of the flowers.

Martin grins shyly, makes to stand, mumbles, "look, I... uh, I've gotta
go. I just came up to see how were, and... well, did I tell you you're
looking great?"

Vialle sets her own feet on the floor, and rises, flowers momentarily
abandoned while she makes her way to hug him again, briefly. "It was
good to talk with you again," she answers, honestly. "And - yes, I think
you did," and smiles.

Martin returns the embrace warmly, talking into her hair, "you look
after yourself, alright?"

Vialle answers, "I'll try. I always do. I hope you'll do the same?"

Martin pulls back to look down at Vialle, "I promise. Hey, you're
wearing that locket thing I gave you."

Vialle brings her fingers to touch it, reminded. "I wasn't sure when
you'd be back in Amber - and by the time you were, it was something of a
habit."

Martin seems stuck for something to say, and kisses her quickly on the
forehead. "I'm sorry I took so long to see you."

Vialle finds one of his hands and pats it. "That's all right. I'm just
glad that you visited at all."

Martin closes his hand around hers and squeezes it. "Me, too. And since
I'm going to be somewhere around here, from now on, if you ever need
anything, anything at all, just yell for me, alright?"

Vialle agrees, simply and without either elaboration or the need for it:
"All right."

Martin hugs her tight again, quickly, draws away, "I guess I'd better
go, eh?"

Vialle says "I suppose so. I'll see you about?"

Martin nods, "yeah, I'll try and pop by more often." He brightens,
"Maybe we could have dinners together or something."

Vialle agrees, "Now and then, at least? Surely there must be at least
one or two young ladies fighting for a touch of your time."

Martin shrugs, smiling, "not that I've noticed. Antonio's the one gets
all the girls."

Vialle counsels, "Just wait. Now that you'll be about, they'll have a
chance to notice you."

Martin hehs, "yeah, right." He moves towards the door, grinning, "I
still have to wave Gerard's patent around before some people'll pay any
attention to me."

Vialle answers, "Only for a little while, I'm sure. Long enough for them
to get accustomed to the idea." She follows a little after, not so close
as to risk bumping into him or being caught by the door.

Martin opens the door, careful not to get it in Vialle's way. "Maybe.
We'll see." He takes her hand, and raises it as he bows to kiss it
gently.

Vialle blushes again, faintly; and smiles again, little and almost shy.
"It was good to talk with you," she says very softly.

Martin nods, wistful, and releases her hand almost reluctantly, "it was
great seeing your smile again."

Vialle turns a shade pinker, and pretends to hide behind the door. "Go,
go, go," she laughs. "Or we'll be saying good-byes till tomorrow."

Martin steps back through the open door, out into the hall, gazing back
at Vialle. "Would that be so bad?" he laughs, and walks a little further
back.

Vialle waves a hand in a shooing gesture - rather missing
Martin's actual direction - and joins him in that laughter.

Martin grins, turns, and walks away, looking back over his shoulder.