![](http://cobalt-company.wdfiles.com/local--resized-images/writing:2024-10-07-friends-with-attic-access/style="margin:/medium.jpg) |
| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Priscilla and Avrenne meet up as they regularly do to discuss the latest events since Priscilla's last visit in September, where quite a few things of note have happened. Priscilla continues to alter her vision for her dream cottage (doesn't need attic access), and Avrenne mentions how much her body has been changing (increased 'attic access' if u kno wat i mean). 5500~ words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
The Little Parlor is warm with a fire lit in the fireplace, with only the softest of crackles to the logs. On the center table is a bouquet of the last of the yellow freesia on the fringe, their lemony scent brightening the air, the large trumpets of yellow hibiscus standing proudly at the center, and white mallow a ring between the two. The purple freesia teapot paired with two delicate porcelain purple wisteria awaits Priscilla's arrival alongside a white, leatherbound ledger, a gnomish pen, and a small cloth bag that likely contains several measuring instruments as well as a bit of string.
Avrenne sits on the loveseat by the window, leaning back, rubbing a hand idly over her belly, preoccupied in some thought. She wears one of her simple house dresses, a deep amber velvet with long sleeves and a squared neckline, with small gold embroidering along the hemlines. She has on her old pair of gold stud earrings, and the gold chain that leads to her seastalk case. Her wedding ring is in the case, as it often is when she is at home and not expecting company, to avoid an accidental burn if she were to be suddenly startled into fear or rage for any reason. Her hair is down in a long golden curtain down her back, longer than Priscilla has seen it since Avrenne was a very young girl, and she wears enough cosmetics to potentially hide any fatigue, the dark circles covered up, the finer lines smoothed out.
Priscilla sweeps into the room with the energy of the well-rested, bright-eyed and excited to be back, dressed in an eggplant purple cardigan over a yellow blouse and wide-legged brown pants. Today's tote bag is large enough to contain multiple sketchbooks. "Renne!" she greets her friend, breezing directly to the table to admire the flowers. "Freesia, that's a friendship flower, oh and these are hibiscus…"
Unfortunately, that's about the level of preparation Priscilla has for this pop quiz. She doesn't identify the mallow at all, and she stares at the hibiscus at different angles before saying, "These change based on color, right? I give up! Tell me!"
"Freesia is friendship, yes," Avrenne confirms, rising to a stand to offer out her hands for a friendship squeeze of them, as a hug at this stage of her pregnancy is awkward no matter which direction you try for it. "White mallow and yellow hibiscus, 'A sweet disposition of sunshine and happiness.'"
Priscilla takes Avrenne's hands in hers and squeezes gently. "How lovely. Oh, I terribly miss living here sometimes. If only I could walk from door to door in a step, a little private mage portal, I would come by every day."
"Oh, well, if we did make one from a single step out of your door to ours, that would make trying to get out of the house to get the mail or go to market ever so vexing," Avrenne quips, as she releases Priscilla's hands to go return to her seat, adjusting her dress and settling herself back in again. "We'll have to be content with a reasonable drive along the roads."
Priscilla smiles and settles down next to her friend. "How have you been? Tell me everything exciting."
"I've been well," Avrenne says, as she leans forward to pour first Priscilla, then herself, some tea. The usual dilutions available for her guest, but Avrenne taking her Earl Gray plain. "Siamus returned without issue on the 2nd to see to the business of finalizing the signatures on Ralaea's paperwork. She seems cheered by the matter overall, and she spoke with Siamus on Andorhal, the lingering guilt of which was dampening her spirits. And then we learned that babies are to be boys, two of them." She sets a hand lightly over her belly in indication, as if with the revelation of this news she can temporarily make her hand a super powered flashlight and shine into it to show Priscilla that there are, indeed, Twin! Boys!, in there.
Priscilla clasps her hands together. "Little brothers for Ery!" she says. This is the same amount of excitement Priscilla would have over any other combination that a pair of twins could possibly come in. "And now you can name them!"
"Yes," Avrenne agrees. "So we have. The first one born will be Elliot Simon Marius Parrish Esprit Fallon, after Siamus' cousin, Eli, his father, Simon, and my mother. The second one born will be Eamon Shine Markell Parrish Esprit Fallon, after the late Tidesage Eamon, who we lost in the Northrend Expedition, Shine, obviously, and Sophie." There's a pinch of grief to her face at the last, but only a pinch. "Eamon will be encouraged by tradition to commit to the military."
"Elliot and Eamon," Priscilla says, smiling. "E names for everyone. Is that a Fallon naming convention, or just something the two of you liked? Siamus and Sintha are both S-names…"
"It's not a convention on either side, simply the way the names seemed to suit, and arranged so that the twins have the same initials," Avrenne says.
There's a hesitation before she adds, "We have also made a decision regarding the incorporation of a retainer House of Lordaeron, House Lynds. Miss Tabiana Lynds, the last of her House, has signed the contract that when her child is born, that he or she will be raised to be Eamon's retainer, and possibly knight."
"My goodness, that's exciting. I hope Eliott and Ery won't feel left out, if only their brother gets a retainer. Although I suppose that doesn't have to be true at all." You can afford it now, Priscilla does not say out loud.
"It's Eamon who will have the expectation to bear of his service to the military, and if either Elliot or Ery decide to follow those same paths themselves, and feel the need for a retainer of their own, we can always discuss and decide at that point." Avrenne sips her tea. "Miss Lynds did not have the luxury of planning out the precise timing of this arrangement. Her condition is one that was unplanned, and while the father will provide financial support, it's unlikely that they will marry. He's a Kul Tiran man who is a guard of Stormwind, and he seems not to share Miss Lynds goals and aspirations. She will be moving into the Blue Suite come November 1st. Siamus has invited the father, Mr. Hartrim, to come stay and discuss boats at some point, but not to live here." Yet.
"Oh, the poor dear," Priscilla says, and seems to recall that she has tea. She takes her own cup and drinks. "Well, it was a good choice on her part to come to this House."
"Oh, Priscilla," Avrenne sighs, looking over at the other woman. "You have simply no idea. We negotiated the contract on the 2nd when she arrived, and the poor girl had, frankly, no idea how to do so, or how to advocate for her own rights, and the rights of her child. Siamus and I did the work for her, because we simply couldn't have done otherwise. Conscience could not allow it to stand, the weight of her original proposal so weighted against her that it would have been one of those legal crimes to take it as offered. We struck what I think to be as fair and balanced an arrangement as we could, though I admit, of course, that I come with an inherent bias."
Priscilla makes a noise of dismay. "Oh, dear. She is very fortunate, then, that she came to exactly the right place. You'll make her and her child feel just like they belong."
Avrenne smiles, as she once again moves a hand over her own belly. "Of course, and really, it felt good to do what we can to reestablish another nearly lost House of Lordaeron. House Lynds and House Morningdew were linked together for generations, and at this point, at least this way she can be sure that her culture will be respected and not assumed to need to homogenize into Stormwind.
"That was not the only surprise that day, though. I didn't mention it, because I didn't see anything significant about it at the time, but a few weeks ago, we received a delivery here to the house, with no return address, and no signature of who sent it. I was able to see that it was a map of Kul Tiras, and assumed that Siamus had ordered it while at sea, and I merely awaited the receipt or his return to mark the ledgers, but it wasn't him who had ordered it. And it's not a map of Kul Tiras before — it's a new, current one, that shows the updated shape of the islands, affected by the Cataclysm."
Priscilla blinks into her tea, then at Avrenne. "What does that mean? Did someone in Siamus' family, or one of his old friends, send it? Oh, Light, is Kul Tiras still there? How badly did the Cataclysm hit it?"
"It took a significant hit, as I suppose we must have expected, really. There have been some shifts of the land, but it's intact as a whole. I can't tell you much more about it beyond that, except that as a personal one, is that where there was once the Westry ancestral home, Siamus' mother's side, there is now nothing but water. There's no possible way the house survived, but we don't know anything about the people involved. There's been no communication since the Wrathgate. We don't know who sent this or how to get in touch with them again."
"Ahhh…" Priscilla makes a sympathetic face and drinks some tea. "How close were they?"
"Siamus and the Westrys, not at all. They had never forgiven him for his choice at Theramore, and even before then during the divorce of mother and father, the relationship grew strained. It was Sintha who maintained the connection. But it's more than Siamus. Thredd and Lyra both had family there, as well as the stables of the horses their family managed there," Avrenne relates with that solemnity of hers. "With the rest of the islands disturbed, any number of connections to the House here may have perished or suffered. We simply have no idea at this point."
"Oh, no." Priscilla sets her teacup down and gently pats Avrenne's arm. "That's terrible. I hope for the safety of their loved ones. I could give Lyra and Thredd my best wishes, but I don't want to alarm them further if they're worried and don't know when they'll receive answers… so maybe I shouldn't."
"It's too soon to know," Avrenne says, staring into her teacup, and looking back eight years. "We're in the waiting stage. Had I ever known or suspected that we could ever be in this position, I would have tried much harder to be sure we had more avenues of communication in place, but we had no reason to suspect we would arrive here. Sintha had maintained a working relationship of communication for years." She sighs and sets aside the past.
"It will be what it is, and it may very well be a year in the knowing. For now, we are readying for a guest of a rather different nature," Avrenne says. "One of Siamus' lovers, a Miss Aszera Sunstrike." That does not sound like a usual human name, most definitely not.
"I've never heard of a Miss Sunstrike." Priscilla studies Avrenne curiously. "Have you met her before? Do you like her?"
"I have never met her, no. She's a sin'dorei, and an Illidari, but not of the Horde," Avrenne tells her, leaning over to pour herself more tea. "A very controversial friend to have, and I expect some storm from Society with it. She has been with the Argent Crusade for the most part, but Siamus hopes to convince her to take back up with the Alliance, and apparently, she is friends with your brother-in-law and his husband, and part of her motivation for wanting to come here is to be able to see her friends in the Alliance."
"My goodness. A sin'dorei lover. Friends with… Lord Colson and Lord Mordecai? I suppose the two of them were up in Northrend where the Argent Crusade was, perhaps they met there." It's not a bad guess, even if it's wrong. Priscilla shrugs. "How… do you feel about it, Renne? Hosting your husband's controversial lover in your own home?"
"He has my support in his decision, as always, Priscilla," Avrenne says, which is not really the same thing as answering that question directly. "He has a point, as well, for how beneficial this would be, something of a coup to garner a defector of the sin'dorei rejecting the Horde, as well as depriving them of a significant power, if we are able to see it take effect." She takes a sip of her tea. "And I have always known that Siamus will have his lovers, and it doesn't bother me any more now in practice than it did when we signed our marriage contract with it in theory."
"Well, of course you're going to support him," Priscilla says, waving a hand. "You two are a proper united front, and that's wonderful, I love it for you both. You know I'm not trying to… sniff for gossip, or cause problems where there aren't any. I just want to know if my best friend is going to be happy."
"That's a simpler question with a simple answer, which is that of course I am happy. I really always am, but she's not coming here to be by herself. Siamus will be here," Avrenne says with a smile at her tea. "He intends to stay until the twins are born at the least, barring some sudden emergency that calls him elsewhere." She sips at the tea. "If you are worried about any sense of jealousy causing unhappiness, you can put it from your mind. It's very easy to not have any fear that Siamus would ever do anything like abandon me for a lover when he has taken such close vows to the contrary, and always made it patently clear that he understands that our marriage is a matter of permanent business of our Houses, and lovers are an enjoyable hobby."
Priscilla looks fully content with that. "Wonderful. And he'll be staying until the birth, that's excellent. This time you can have me sent for, instead. And early! None of that waiting for hours." She pauses. "At least to have me in the house once it starts. If the only person you want keeping you company is him, in private, that is fine. I won't be offended. But I do want to be nearby, Renne!"
Avrenne considers that, perhaps for the first time, as if to wonder if she would want Siamus to take the place of Priscilla in the birthing, frowning. "I don't really think it's a man's place in the birthing business. It's not something he can really understand the same way," she says. "It's a comfort to know that he will be nearby if anything were to happen, and I wouldn't like him even any further than the downstairs or upstairs of the house, but when it comes to having a person by my side, well, it's obvious that I would want the comfort of your support."
Priscilla smiles brilliantly, very pleased. "Then you shall have it." She pats Avrenne's arm affectionately. "And one day, you can do the same when I have my children. You can make anything bearable."
Avrenne's own smile brightens, pleased in return. She goes faux-stern however as she raises a finger up like a mother about to scold. "We should make a pact here and now though, and I do expect you to hold to it, that when the laboring does start, we do what we can to make the other go to sleep. I don't care if you have to hold down my eyelids with your hands, or if I must do so myself for you, but it will happen. That is my one biggest regret that I didn't take that advice more seriously. I've never been so exhausted in all my life," she says.
Priscilla laughs and holds out a hand to shake on it. Her nail polish is a display of autumn colors, each nail painted a different shade. "It's a deal."
Avrenne shakes Priscilla's hand with her Business Handshake. Good, yes. She sits back to rest against the couch. "Miss Sunstrike should be here sometime next month," she says. "I may be depending on you to assist with controlling the social impact it will have. The Aspenwoods will need to claim their friendship with her openly for it to not seem as though House Fallon is doing anything too against the grain. You know how that man Lord Lescovar is going to try to twist this if he gets his hands on it before it could cost him too much. He might be willing to drag Siamus' name through the mud, but involving Duchess Aspenwood's family will certainly give him pause."
Priscilla shakes Avrenne's hand firmly and picks up her tea again. "Shall I bring Birdie to meet her?"
"It would be helpful, yes. Lord Colson and Lord Mordecai likely will need to, as they have the claim of her friendship already, but with you and Lord Bertrand being of higher rank within the family, you know how it will solidify it. I don't know enough about Miss Sunstrike's manner to judge if I would dare attempt to have Duchess Aspenwood herself visit, but she would not be pleased to hear anyone speaking against her family regardless of her own personal distaste for an individual." Avrenne rests her teacup on her belly shelf. It's a convenient shelf. "Mr. Silentstep is also apparently another one of Miss Sunstrike's friendships. He's of no use politically," she says, in that cold analysis of hers. "But the less this looks like Siamus on a limb by himself of this person of not yet firm loyalties, the better."
"Do warn me what she's like once you meet her," Priscilla requests. "But if Siamus likes her enough to invite her to his home, perhaps she'll be easy to get along with."
"Oh, there's no telling, really. Siamus is one of those people who finds such a wide variety of people charming, and is himself so charming, that his experience with a person is often not what the rest of us meet with. I have to admit to being one of those. Siamus finds my company most agreeable and desirable, but a great deal of people don't like me well enough to sincerely want my company for my own sake, but they need me for what I represent and the social power I hold, and so must bear the burden of it and do what they can to remain in my good graces," Avrenne observes, as bloodless as ever, the cold calculus of the social maneuvering.
Priscilla waves a hand. "Well, no one's for everyone. I like you a great deal - the two of us have complementary talents, logical and artistic." This has always been, in Priscilla's opinion, a positive thing.
"All I mean to say is that Siamus' friendship with a person should not be taken as an indication for how generally likable that person may or may not be," Avrenne says. "He also has a drive for making friends, not unlike Lord Bertrand does, where he genuinely wants such connections to be of that nature, and for him the step from 'friend' to 'lover' even if only in a casual way is a simple step."
Priscilla chuckles. "Better than making lovers out of your enemies."
Avrenne opens her mouth to say something, and then decides against it, taking a sip of her tea instead before returning the cup to her belly shelf. "It's already caused a little bit of a stir, as Miss Sunstrike it would appear is not as discrete as others of Siamus' lovers, and it came out that he still takes them as a married man, while he had her aboard the Lady Blanche during this recent military campaign of Vashj'ir. Some people's good opinion of Siamus was lowered by the knowledge."
"Ah." Priscilla sighs. "Well, that's unfortunate."
"It's been something I have always known would eventually happen in a general sense, if not a specific one," Avrenne says. "I have done what I could to ensure that it doesn't come as such a deep shock wherever I have been able to, and to ensure social contingencies are in place if it turns into a wider scandal. But, some people will always look at both of us differently once they know of it, and will see our marriage as being 'less,' with it not being exclusively only the two of us. There's much social emphasis on marriages being only of two people, to the permanent ceasing of all other relationships beyond friendship."
Priscilla pats her arm sympathetically. "Oh, Renne. Society does love making things that aren't any of their business into their business."
Avrenne waves this away with a quick flick of her fingers. "Society's opinions are not of any significant cost to be worth even the marking of when the rest of a marriage such as I have with Siamus is taken into account. I'm not interested in what others do and don't think about my marriage except as it pertains to the management of Siamus' career and our businesses."
Priscilla nods. "Well, then I hope whatever happened aboard the Lady Blanche won't have any political or business implications for your family."
"Oh, it most certainly will. Has, already, but the ripples will be small. The greater ones will happen when she is here at the house, especially until she does make a full step into the Alliance fold properly. I will manage it though," Avrenne says as her chin comes up. "That's really all the big news on our side so far. What of yours?"
Priscilla reaches into the tote bag and pulls out one of her sketchbooks, flipping it open. "I'm still working on the cottage," she says. "I know the more complex I make it, the longer it's going to be before we can move in, but even so. Denny and I did handprint art with little Bee and it's so cute, her hands are so teeny still."
Avrenne looks over to observe the sketchbook. "How lovely," she says. "When Ery gets older, we should be sure to introduce them, as they're not so terribly far in age, all things considered."
Priscilla shows her little Bee's handprint art with a proud smile. The child does have tiny hands. "Oh, yes, we absolutely must."
Avrenne, because she is very pregnant with twin! boys! and that's the only reason, gets a little misty eyed viewing the little handprint, and covers it by reaching over to pour herself more tea. "What have you added to the cottage now?"
"Well, I've been thinking clouds on the ceiling of the kids' room," Priscilla says. You know, the room for the kids she will eventually have.
"Surely those would only be painted though, wouldn't they? You don't have to decide that now," Avrenne says practically. "I still haven't decided what wallpaper should go up in the boys' room, and they'll be here in just, oh, two or so months now."
"Well, if I paint it now before I move in, then I won't have to smell the paint drying all the time," Priscilla says, chuckling. "And I wouldn't want to climb a ladder while pregnant, would you?" She looks at Avrenne's belly pointedly.
"I wouldn't want to climb a ladder to paint a ceiling while not pregnant," Avrenne says in a dry voice.
Priscilla laughs brightly.
"Besides, you'll end up smelling the paint drying anyway if you choose clouds and then end up realizing you've changed your mind after all once the baby comes. Some things strike you as being entirely reasonable before, and then after you end up what you were thinking. I thought the seashell dresser would be the most adorable little thing until now there's Ery trying all the time to pry them off the dresser because she thinks she knows that it's a shell like the sort she can pick up at the beach, and wailing in frustration when it won't come off the dresser," Avrenne relates with a tired sigh.
"She's trying to get the seashells off the dresser?" Priscilla looks incredibly endeared by this new baby fact. "Oh, how precious."
"You wouldn't think so if you heard her at it," Avrenne warns, but she's smiling too fondly to pull off real annoyance. "She gets her lungs from me, and her ability to conjure up a sudden gust of angry wind from her father. It makes for quite a combination, I assure you."
Priscilla laughs. "Babies are fearless. What a time of life."
"She's almost crawling," Avrenne says, but this is not news. Ery has been almost crawling for almost a full month now. She hasn't quite managed the trick of it yet. "My point is, don't assume permanence once you actually have the baby there. You might find yourself growing very tediously bored of staring up at clouds while nursing for hours."
"Well, I'm sure that could happen…" Priscilla doesn't sound sold.
"Anything else altered from where you had it last? Don't tell me you're back to deciding how many floors to have it be, because you really will set yourself all the way back if you change your mind again," Avrenne cautions, almost a motherly sort of scold, like she's warning Priscilla that if she has spicy food before bed she will have heartburn.
"No, it's still two," Priscilla says firmly. "It's definitely two. And I don't need attic access."
"You don't need attic access, especially because you have enough property to build cellar access if you decide you need it, and you can always expand out on the house if it becomes absolutely necessary," Avrenne agrees. She has said all this before. She's repeating it anyway. For emphasis.
Priscilla flips her sketchbook to a mostly-blank page. "Yes, yes." Careful, she's about to do art.
"What are you sketching now?" Avrenne asks, that fond exasperation of someone who knows an artist who can't turn off the Art Urge all the way at any time.
"Little Ery and her dresser seashells," Priscilla says. She's seen the piece of furniture in question before, she knows the rough shape of it.
"Mm." Avrenne doesn't know how art works. She tells Priscilla she wants painting of things and Priscilla makes it happen. As far as Avrenne is concerned, art is some sort of magic. She picks up her teacup and there's that telltale odd nervous flutter of her fingers that gives away a sense of her state of mind before she says, "Since I am still nursing with Ery and with the pregnancy, I should say that much as it was last year with Ery, things have been… expanding again. Mr. Latour has had to readjust all my measurements yet again, and I realized that with all the other changes going on, that I might take a measuring day for Avrilla and Prenne, if you weren't opposed to it."
"Oh!" Priscilla looks up from what has already become the rough outline of a rectangular shape and a child reaching for it. "Oh my goodness, you really have grown even more this time! Do they always increase proportional to the number of children you're carrying? You can have triplets next to test that theory." She leaves the pencil in the sketchbook and sets it aside to begin unbuttoning the purple cardigan.
Avrenne's laugh spins out of her like a twirl of honey. "If I do turn out to have an n+1 type of pregnancy, this is going to get rather ridiculous very quickly, as thrilled as Siamus would likely be by the rapid expansion. We'd have a dozen by the fifth pregnancy, with an extra three as a bonus. And honestly, at that point of five, at least some of the babies would have to be stored up here in these," she says as she grabs one with a hand unselfconsciously. "Or I don't know where they'd even be supposed to go. I barely seem to have room for two. I feel like I would rather need 'attic access' at anything more than three."
Priscilla laughs along with her friend. "Goodness, that's too many. Too many!"
"My physician says it's only because I still have Ery at the breast, and the twins. On their own, it would have just been likely the same as with Ery, maybe a little larger, if I had spaced it out more." Avrenne looks down at her breasts with that look of a farmer with an unexpected high yield crop of melons. "And they won't stay this way after I wean off the babies, presuming I don't have another pregnancy immediately after." As Priscilla knows though, they are trying to space out the next one, now that they know the dangers of too close together pregnancies. "Still, you know, I always did wonder what it would be like to have actual breasts."
Priscilla is definitely looking at Avrenne's breasts now, because this is the topic of conversation. "Is it everything you'd ever dreamed of?" she asks, grinning.
Avrenne gives a little hum of a laugh in her chest. "Needing to always wear some sort of undergarment to contain them does take a small margin of the excitement of them away, I will admit to you. And I didn't really expect the way they'd get in the way of things floating up in the bath like they do now, as if I don't have enough difficulty with seeing everything with the pregnancy, but otherwise, yes, for the most part. They do all sorts of exciting things with …in certain contexts," Avrenne finishes with just that touch of someone having caught herself in the middle of saying something private and now having to pivot into discretion. Whoops, though, it's already hit the air and there's no delete button. Rather than address that further she looks up at Priscilla.
"You will have to expect the same for yourself when the time comes. Apparently there isn't some maximum point and the pregnancy and nursing won't affect it, as my physician has explained, as the effect these things have are on a person regardless of her size or age to start. Once I have these new numbers for myself, as I have already the ones with how large I grew with Ery, I could tell you an estimate from where you are now to where it would be if you grew by the same percentage by each occurrence, and the median size between the two for a possible range, though it's using me as the only data for the bell curve and therefore only in fun rather than accurate mathematics."
A normal thing a person offers another, with all the caveats. Well, maybe normal if you're a hopeless math nerd like Avrenne Esprit Fallon.
Priscilla gets a little blushy and giggly herself. She has experienced Certain Contexts now. She has been experiencing them since June. "Light, I'm not prepared to get bigger at all," she says, patting her own chest. "None of my clothes are going to fit. Yes, yes, take the measurements and then you'll do the math about it." She lays her cardigan out neatly on the side table.
"Well, none of your clothes will fit anyway because of the middle," Avrenne says as she articulates the arch of her curve with a hand, and sits up to set her teacup on the table. "But even when that is over, so long as you still have a child at the breast, the rest likely won't fit either, so it's best to set some expectations now." There's that odd little flutter of her fingers again as she picks up her little bag with her instruments. "We may want to go upstairs to my dressing room. I will need the use of the mirror for myself, I am sure. Between the size increase and the rest of me as an impediment, I can't see what I'm doing without it, and there are no windows there." Which there most certainly are there in the Little Parlor.
Priscilla packs up her things, folding the cardigan into her tote bag along with her sketchbooks. She makes sure her teacup is empty (it is) and stands, offering an arm to Avrenne to help her up.
Avrenne takes it, and honestly uses it, putting the heave-ho into getting up, and rebalancing. She picks up her notebook and sets it on the Belly Shelf along with the Little Bag, setting a hand over both to hold them there. What? It's a convenient carrying shelf, and she's at home.
Priscilla makes sure Avrenne is steady on her feet and all settled. "Upstairs we go."