You Know My Name | Invite

[Natasi Fortan]

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Hector Finn-Camden"] | [member="Pierce Fortan III"]​

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhfntvRE2qE​

Charlie Reed -- or Charlotte Reed the younger -- emerged from her speeder with an overnight hanging from her wrist and a fashionable, fur-trimmed coat covering her slender frame and lending warmth as she strolled across the slush-covered drive towards the grey-brick castle that was the Reed family house as well as being the county seat of the Dukedom of Sterandel, of which her father was the Duke and her mother the Duchess. An array of servants -- not the full contingent, not yet -- had lined up alongside the front of the house, and the footman who opened the door for her also took her bag. Charlotte strolled into the front door, pausing to look around to see if anything had changed. It had just been the new year, so all of the weapons -- the swords, the pikes, the axes and old-fashioned rifles which formed the main of the entry foyer's decor -- had been polished to a shine.

The entry had been known as the armory hall for many years, even after its purpose as a functioning armory had been made obsolete by the advent of rapid-travel mechanisms and laser weapons. It was slightly draconian, to be sure, but it was home, and besides the rest of the castle wasn't quite so martial.

The Duchess, on the other hand...

"You're late." The voice came from the doorway to the drawing room. Charlotte Reed the elder was an imperious woman -- kind and kind-faced to loved ones and friends, but with a spine of durasteel -- in her late sixties. "What happened?"

"Yes, I'm fine, thanks," Charlie replied waspishly. "The train hit -- get this -- the train hit a cow and we were stopped for forty minutes. Even I cannot control the cows, Mama, now do I get a kiss?"

"I suppose," the Duchess said, coming over to Charlotte and kissing her cheek. "I've missed you, darling. How are you, really?"

Charlie frowned and looked aside. "Well... you know." This was as touchy-feely as a Galidraani got without several drinks. "Don't suppose I could get a gin and tonic to calm my nerves before our guests arrive?"

"What nerves? Darling, you've known them all your lives!"

"Well -- one of them is Grand Moff of the First Order now, even if we used to be in Girl Guides together." Charlie knitted her fingers together. "All right. We've been friends all our lives -- that's why I went to the First Order in the first place. But I suppose -- well, I'd still like a drink."

"There'll be tea when everyone arrives," said the Duchess. "For now, go up and see your Papa, he's in his study and he'll want to know you've made it safe and sound." The older Charlotte paused and adjusted her necklace absent-mindedly. "I think he's decanting some Scotch, actually."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Henry arrived at Sterandel half an hour later, and, without anyone to greet him, strolled across the snow-covered gravel to the front door and pulled the chain. The door opened to a rather dour fellow -- the Reeds' butler Pemberton -- who inclined his head and squinted at Henry. "Good afternoon, can I help you?"

"I'm here to see His Lordship," said Hector politely.

"Is he expecting you?"

A beat. "Yes, of course. I wouldn't show up unannounced. Mr. Pemberton, it's me. Surely he told you."

Pemberton fumbled in his pocket, then drew a pair of pince-nez glasses out, holding them up to his eyes for a moment. "Ah. Your Lordship, I do apologize. I'm not aware of your appointment, but I must admit it's not like you to show up without one." He frowned and then held the door open. "If you'll come in, please, I will go and see about it."

Henry agreed, thanked Pemberton, and stepped inside. As the butler went off, Henry surveyed his surroundings. A large table had been set up opposite the fireplace, covered in a clean white cloth. A pair of three-tiered cake stands had been erected on the table, flanking a typically extravagant flower arrangement -- par for the course at Sterandel, which boasted one of the largest and most varied gardens on the planet. As he watched, a series of footmen marched from some side door or another with covered trays; they set the trays down, removing the domes to reveal an endless variety of tea sandwiches.

Henry realized he had inadvertently crashed a party. He made this realization just as the cool, clear voice of the Duchess of Sterandel rang out from the landing of the stairway ahead of him: "Hector Camden. What are you doing here?" It wasn't unusual for les grandes dames of Galidraan to take that tone with him; he studied her from across the large great hall, eyebrows furrowed slightly even as he smiled at her, as he tried to remember just how he had offended her. He hadn't had an affair with either of her daughters, that much he could recall. He hadn't had an affair with her either, but then her devotion to her husband Grevel was beyond question.

"Good afternoon, Duchess. I'm here to look in on my godfather," said Henry. "And do call me Henry. Everyone does. Hector is --"

"Your father. Yes, I know. We spent endless evenings around the bridge table in -- oh, it must have been the sixties. Heavens, how the time flies." The Duchess came to the landing and walked halfway across the room, stopping in front of the tea table to examine it. She reached out and plucked a misshapen leaf off one of the buds, holding it out to a footman, who took it without complaint. "Does my husband know you're here?"

The Duchess didn't appear to be all that interested in coming closer, so Henry took his hat off and approached deferentially. "Yes, Your Ladyship. Although I see I have come at rather an inopportune moment. Perhaps it would better if I left." He glanced back towards the door.

"Perhaps it --" The Duchess broke off when her husband thundered from the top of the stairs: "Henry! Henry, my dear boy, I am sorry. It completely slipped my mind you were coming. Charlotte, darling, I'm sorry, I meant to tell you."

"Look, I'll come back another time," said Henry, holding up a hand. "Next week, Grevel? The 18th?" He drew a datapad from an inner pocket and called up his calendar.

The Duchess sighed. "No, Hector, of course you must stay. Have you got cases?"

"No --"

"You can borrow some of Jon's things. He's away at the Defense Fleet, but you're about the same size. He has developed this fascination with picking up heavy things and setting them down, over and over again." She studied him indifferently for a few moments. "Young people. Anyway -- Pemberton, go and see that Hector's speeder is moved around."

"Wait a moment," Henry said, holding up a hand. "I haven't agreed to stay."

"Have a care for your godfather, son," said Grevel grimly. "Otherwise it'll be me and all these women for the entire weekend."

Henry sighed, barely repressing a smile. "All right, then. Thank you for your gracious invitation. What's the special occasion, anyway?"

The Duchess had looked beyond him out the window by the door. "Well, Your Grace, you're about to find out." Another speeder had eased to a stop in the drive, and through the window Henry could see a full contingent of household staff filing out to meet them from the staff entrances around either side of the castle.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Yes -- well, thank you, Ms. Janson. We'll be in touch." Natasi paused, listening to the voice on the other end of the communicator. "Thank you. Goodbye." The Grand Moff clicked off the communicator and sighed, setting it on the seat next to her. She pulled her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing quietly.

"That wasn't her, was it?" Pierce asked from his perch opposite her. He didn't bother looking up from his crossword.

"I don't know. She isn't Sioux." Natasi said dully.

Pierce frowned. "No one will be. Time to move on."

"I know." Natasi glanced at her wristwatch, then peered out the window. "Heavens, nearly there." She began to collect her papers and had managed to tuck them into her secured red box just as the car entered the gates of Sterandel House. The castle loomed in front of them now, and Natasi pulled her fur cloak around herself in preparation for stepping into the late-winter chill. A few moments later, the car eased to a halt. Natasi surveyed the lines of staff lining up to greet them as a footman rushed forward to open the doors. Natasi picked up her walking stick and glanced at Pierce. "Remember to smile, Pierce, or I shall tell your mother you offended the Duchess." They left the car, Natasi leaning heavily on her walking stick and Pierce's arm until they reached the family. "Duchess," Natasi beamed as the two women embraced and exchanged kisses on each cheek. She repeated the process on the Duke and on Charlotte, who had to repress the urge to snap a salute. "As you were, Commander," Natasi said with a smirk.

Pierce walked in with [member="Charlotte Reed"] and Natasi with the Duchess. "Thank you so much for having us," Natasi said to the Duchess. "I needed some good, cold Galidraani air. Is there anyone else staying I'll know?"

"That depends," said the Duchess. "Have you met the Duke of Westleira?"

"Deaf as a post and slightly stiffer?" Natasi asked with a smirk.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Hector did not leave the house with the family; he felt a little bit awkward, as if he was crashing a party. He didn't quite belong. He stood by the fireplace, admiring the fire with his back to the door. He must have looked like just any other member of staff, or the Grand Moff must not have been aware that his father -- who had been deaf as a post and just as stiff -- had died a little over a year ago, leaving he -- Henry -- as the Duke of Westleira. He cleared his throat as he turned and looked at Natasi.

They had met several times in their youth; his mother and hers had served on charitable committees together for years. He had been in the same year as her brother, Mathes Fortan, and her cousin, Pierce, who was bringing up the rear. Well, that was something at least. Pierce had always been game for a laugh, but Natasi had seemed to Henry to be a sort of studious kind of girl -- taking herself too seriously to indulge in childhood and adolescence. Perhaps she had always sensed she was destined for something more than the life of a Galidraani countrywoman. Whatever the case, she had paved the way for a generation of Galidraani nobles to spread their wings -- from Pierce in the First Order starfighter corps to Charlotte Reed in the Navy to Henry himself, who had expanded his media empire to First Order space.

"Not quite deaf yet, Lady Natasi," said Henry, giving her a courtly bow and offering her hand. "Give it forty years and I'll see what I can do. Forgive my overhearing; we have met several times, although the last time we met I was known as the Marquess of Eimar." This was one of his father, the Duke's, lesser titles which, through custom on Galidraan, could be used by his eldest son and heir as a courtesy. "How do you do?" He took her proffered hand and raised it halfway to meet his lips as he bowed over it. "I'm pleased to see you looking so well."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi was examining the sandwiches and cakes laid out on the table without much enthusiasm when a vaguely familiar voice came from behind her. She turned, her eyes widening a little as she struggled to remember the person and face that went with it. It was Pierce's call of "Fatty! Fatty Finn-Camden, I don't believe it, how the devil are you, old man?"

Natasi had never called the Marquess of Eimar "Fatty" -- a name that he picked up at school due to the fact that he had taken his sweet time in shedding his boyish, baby-fat cheeks, and the fact that adolescent boys were the second cruelest group of people in existence after adolescent girls. But she recognized him instantly by both of these titles.

"I recall a very superior boy who was tasked with entertaining two children of lower birth and wasn't particularly pleased to be asked," Natasi said dryly as Henry bowed over her hand. "Although I understand you became rather friendly with Mathes." She paused delicately, clearing her throat under her breath, forcing a prim smile. "In the end."

The Duchess, meanwhile, was taking two cups of tea from Mr. Pemberton, one of which she gave to Natasi, the other which she gave to Hector. Natasi took a cucumber sandwich off the tray while Henry selected a small slices of cake. "I was sorry to hear about your father," Natasi said. "Unfortunately things in Avalonia did not allow me to travel back for the funeral."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Pierce was talking to [member="Charlotte Reed"] as the two were served tea by Mr. Pemberton. "You're settling in well, then," Pierce observed pleasantly. "Perhaps too well. You have rather the look of a woman ready to take command. Have they still got you at the university?" He balked at her affirmative response. "Ought to get Herself on the case," he said, gesturing with his teacup at [member="Natasi Fortan"]. "I'm sure she'll have something to say on the subject."

His momentary focus towards Natasi was pulled to [member="Hector Finn-Camden"]. He wasn't "Fatty" anymore -- not by a long shot. He and Charlotte ambled over towards the Duke and Natasi. "I'm sure I was a poor substitute for the entire Fortan family," Pierce said gravely as he extended a hand to Finn-Camden. "Lovely to see you again, old boy." Pierce glanced around for a few moments, grey eyes searching the room for the other Finn-Camden, Lydia. She was always game for a laugh. Not seeing her, Pierce instead picked up an egg salad sandwich and took a bite.

Once he had swallowed, Pierce looked back over to Hector. "Is Lydia not here? How is she doing, anyway? I heard she's working for you, now, Henry. Bit of nepotism never hurt anyone, hm? Not that I'm one to talk," he said as Natasi glared at him.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The presence of Natasi Fortan was not what Henry had expected. He had always meant to reconnect, but his plan to do so had been circuitous and scenic, rather than direct. He hadn't expected to see her there and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He had always been just a little bit enchanted with the daughter of the Earl of Herevan, with her coy smirk and her cool demeanor belying a certain fierceness and humor. He had in fact pressed his father to make a match between them before Natasi left Galidraan. As it happened, a neighboring Duke had offered a better dowry and made an offer Frejrik Fortan couldn't pass up. The match had never been consummated, but by the time it fell through, Henry had moved away to start his media empire.

So this was serendipity. Or maybe not. He lifted his teacup to his lips as he watched Natasi select a small scone.

Hector reluctantly took his eyes from Natasi to look over at Pierce, acknowledging his presence with a smile. "You kept the side up," he said, clapping [member="Pierce Fortan III"] on the shoulder. "I appreciated you being there, truly. It was nice to have a friendly face there. Someone who knew what I was going through, you know?" He took another bite of his tea sandwich before answering Pierce's question: "Ah -- Liddy is good. Still shaken up about Kaeshana, of course, but I think we all are. She took rather a pounding. You know, I could just wring their necks, the lot of them. What were they thinking, shooting at a member of the press? Not that they should have been there at all, mind," said Henry sternly.

"But she's all right. She just needs some time to recuperate. What about you? How did you come off?"