merrimanlyon | (no subject)

The Old Ones took their time as they assembled, arriving not en masse but rather in a slow trickle of ones and twos, spread out over the course of a quarter hour in the middle of the morning. It was an almost leisurely gathering, one that belied the urgency with which they had been silently summoned.

When they were gathered, in the room that had become their ad hoc council hall, Merlion began to speak quietly. A few brief sentences were enough to confirm what those of the Circle had known for several days now -- keeping up a pretense of normal, everyday life would not work for much longer.

A murmur of resigned assent, rather like a sigh, goes up from the group.

'In light of the "current situation",' Merlion says, using a turn of phrase that has a particularly clinical and detached ring to it, in the Old Speech, 'the primary goal is to keep the magic of the land intact and within limits that Bran Davies can control. Doing so will take a more determined effort, one that will demand our entire concentration.'

He pauses for a moment before continuing. 'Two watches. Twelve hours each, held here in this room where we will not be disturbed. Three would allow for more hours of rest, but we would run the risk of either overtaxing ourselves or diminishing our magic to potentially dangerous levels.'

Heads nod in understanding. They have all been feeling the strain; the chance of a few hours where the weight of the magic does not prevent proper sleep sounds rather welcome, all things considered.

'You are free to divide the watch as you see fit, for I know that some of you would actually prefer the evening hours.' Merlion holds his hands apart slightly, as if balancing weights on a pair of scales. 'So long as the division is sufficiently even, there should be no difficulty in maintaining the spells. Once we see how a two-watch system works, and are able to determine its effects, we might be able to alter the routine if matters demand it.'

(Which is to avoid saying the unpleasant truth that they all know well enough: If matters demand it, then by that point altering the routine itself may not do all that much good.)

Only a few more words are needed. 'Will and I will notify Bran Davies and his lady mother. The first watch will begin at dawn tomorrow. I trust that will be sufficient time for us to take leave of our affairs for the time being -- '

A woman's voice, pert and ironic and pitched just loud enough to carry, interrupts him in mid-sentence. 'Yes, and we'll be sure to turn the gas off before we head out, too.'

The beat of startled silence is quickly followed by a scattered, quiet chuckling, easing some of the tenseness in the tightly wound atmosphere of the hall.

'Well, there is that,' Merlion says dryly, raising an eyebrow at Miss Mary Greythorne even as he sends her a silent message of thanks. 'Amongst other things.'

The gathering breaks up amidst quiet conversations, as Old Ones begin to sort our their hours of watch with their colleagues. There are even a few jokes here and there, mostly along the lines of Miss Greythorne's -- don't forget to feed the cat, stop the milk, notify the postman. It's an attempt to keep things light, almost informal, in the hope of avoiding the mental paralysis that can descend as siege mentality settles in.

No one really notices when Will departs, heading out to find Bran and break the news to him. And no one really notices when Merlion disappears as well, shortly afterwards...though the queen is not the only person who he intends to notify of this change in plans.