20 Alistair

John watched him, brow furrowed. "Well, then, you want the adjustment or not?"

Mingan stared down at the marks, trying to make sense of the changes to the runes. "I think," he said slowly, wondering at his own decision, "I'd like you to touch up the originals, but add this one separately." He didn't look at Elloreah as he spoke, disgusted with himself for giving into even this. "More control," he added as explanation.

John shrugged, his mouth quirking into a cocky half smile. "I hardly see why you'd need a separate protection rune for just one girl. It's highly unlikely you'll run into another like her..."

"Just do it," Mingan snapped, unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm curious about this ability of hers. Maybe there's something to be learned from it."

John just chuckled. "Let me know where you want this new addition, then. Only one request per night, though, I'm afraid. You sure you don't want Elloreah's done first?"

Mingan shook his head. "She's my responsibility. I want to be able to deal with her without questioning my motives at every turn."

Mingan turned to Elloreah. "I expect you will do your best to control your nature regardless?"

She nodded, hands clenched in her lap. Mingan shrugged out of his shirt, taking the cloth that John held out to wipe down the areas that would be marked with fresh runes. The protection runes, over his heart, they were the most important, the ones he knew best.

Other runes lined his forearms, charms and spells easily accessed by rolling up his sleeves. The left arm, defensive, the right, offensive. A few other odd spells were placed here and there, though he preferred to keep the number of active rune spells limited. Only those he would use most often were set into his skin. Simple, short term spells could be easily added to the back of a hand or palm with coal.

"Do you need any help?" Elloreah asked once John had his tray all laid out and gestured for Mingan to scoot closer on his stool.

"Nae, lass," John said kindly. "You don't even have to stay for this bit. Though seeing that you're new to our world, it might be good to get an idea of what to expect. This is basic maintenance. Tomorrow we will need to set your glamour in place with inks. That is if you're happy with it?"

"I suppose. You would know what would be best, far better than I."

"I like it," Mingan muttered. "Though that could be pride speaking, since it is my handiwork."

Elloreah flushed slightly, her eyes flitting to Mingan briefly and back to the floor before speaking. "Perhaps I should ask Sarah, then? For an unbiased, mortal opinion?"

John chuckled, hunching forward to look over Mingan's runes. "Smart girl. Aye, it would be best to check with the lady of the house on such matters." He uncapped a marker and made some adjustments to the current, fading runes. "Where do you want the new one?"

Mingan raised a brow, deciding not to question the adjustments being made and simply tapped the empty space just below his collar bone. "Here," he said. "Hidden among the others if possible. Might come in handy to be only one unaffected by our Ethereal maiden."

John chuckled once more. "Always scheming, aren't you?" he commented, and proceeded to carefully draw the guide for the inks he would be laying down. "I'm surprised Alistair hasn't caught on yet."

Mingan resisted the urge to shrug and potentially upset John's careful work. "Oh, I'm sure he has. But I do his bidding from time to time, he knows better than to upset our truce."

John sighed and straightened up to face Mingan. "It's a dangerous game you play, Mingan. He is old, and not in the way that I am. He hasn't crossed continents and secured his vast guardianship without knowing how to manage his flock. He has his eye on your homeland as well. Your mother tires of this world, and with Sitala's urging, she may soon give into Alistair's persuasion."

A low rumble started up in Mingan's throat. He didn't mind light hearted talk of the very real power struggle going on along the western coast, but John's comment struck too close to home.

"No more," he said, his voice and low. "It won't be safe for Elloreah to know too much while under Alistair's tutelage."

Elloreah squeezed her hands tightly in her lap, the knuckles whitening from the effort as she watched at them. "If I have something to fear from this Alistair you speak of, perhaps I should not go to him..."

"No," Mingan said sharply. "There is no other option. We are all tools of the Tutelar."

John scoffed, but Mingan continued, "Even John. They allow him his tiny mountain kingdom."

"Only after Alistair forced me here," John muttered. "The occasional flood, my only revenge."

"You are not still flooding the lake, are you?" Mingan chuckled. "And you scold me for my scheming."

"It floods naturally from time to time," John replied, mock innocence in his tone, and set back to work.

A brief silence followed, and Elloreah filled it tentatively. "I do not wish to become a tool," she said softly. "And I certainly would not wish to work against your plans, Mingan. Please. Promise to help me, at least for a time."

As she added the last, Mingan could feel the pull grow. She was afraid, lonely, lost. He sighed, disgusted at his own desire to give in, to help her.

"I will steer you right, for a time. I think." He gave her a knowing look. "Though I'm sure you can charm your way out of any trouble you get into. That is what nymphs do best."

She flushed at that and looked away from him, and he grinned. If she was knowingly manipulating him, there was no shame in throwing a few jabs her way. She was not quite the innocent she played so well.

"Enough," John muttered, capping and setting the marker down. "I need you to sit still." Without another word, he turned on the buzzing needle and set to work, effectively silencing them both.