After several hours of being able to try and adjust after the ceremony, Storm was still having a difficult time. Her vision had not completely restored, her stomach felt more queasy than ever, and her mind viewed everything with a dull haze. She still insisted on being able to go home and be with her husband. Cornelious had kept a close eye on her, watching the different phases of her recovery go by. There was a time where she did not have a care for anything, and her face held a continuous large smile that accompanied boisterous laughter; it was hard for him to not be amused. He walked her home, carefully keeping her steady as her balance was still unsteady. Upon seeing that Ewan was not there, her father refused to let Storm stay without anyone's proper supervision. So instead, he escorted her to the Inn, where Storm was lucky enough to run into her husband. It did not take long though, for Ewan to insist that they go home so that she could rest and recover.

During the time of their short walk back home, Storm's oddly cheerful demeanor changed into something more static. She was trying to lean against him less and less, but her balance was still unstable. "Father said it went well - though I only got to see a small portion of the ceremony." It was clear that she was trying to regain control of her mind, but it was not quite working.

"Storm," he whispered, brought them to a halt, and just picked her up is arms. It made it all the easier. He started the walk again. "I am glad to hear it went well, though your status afterwards is of a distressing matter. Why not sleep?"

"Something about needing to be monitored more. Everyone else was required to stay. But I wanted to come home." Her body has beginning to be covered in a cold sweat, and there was missing color in her cheeks. "I had to drink something horrible that contained.. well, I do not really know."

"Swords and arrows, Storm, what kind of cursed ceremony is it that you must drink of things you don't know and come out the other end like this?" That is what he wanted to say. What came out of his mouth was, "I see."

Rather than wrapping her arms around his neck like she usually did, she brought her bandaged wrist up, almost right in front of his face, "And I tried to bond with who I picked. It did not go well."

"I am gathering as much." He muttered. "Did it go well enough not to try again?"

"Yes. It worked for her, but not for me." She brought the linen up to her brow to brush some of the dampness away there. "Father said something else about me not eating." She frowned, and tried that again. "Me needing to eat because I did not."

He nudged open the door to their home, gave a nod to the caregiver and took Storm straight to the couch. "No sleeping. And food. Right, well, let us hope there is something edible that does not require cooking."

"There is bread." For whatever reason, that was the food item that came to mind as she was set upon the couch. "Might be best, I have not felt well since this morning."

Open with his emotions now that they were at home, his brow furrowed with concern. "I would not think you got nervous about a ceremony traditional to your station and people." He went to the kitchen to retrieve the bread, bringing it back along with a glass of water. "Plain fare, but good for an unsettled soul, or stomach." These were held for her as he sat next to her on the couch.

"I did not know what to expect." She blinked rapidly for a few moments, her eyes trying to focus more on him, but instead dark spots were appearing in her vision. Shaking her head gently, she took the bread and water. "I did not think I would be so nervous either." She admitted, first taking a slow drink of the water, before tearing bits of the bread to nibble on. "Did your day go well?"

"My day was as they often are," came the vague reply. His hand lifted to touch her brow. The focus and unfocused change in her eyes kept his concern pitched high. "We must keep you awake, is it? I would normally judge against it upon the seeing of you, but I know little of your ways and trust your father knows best."

"Do I look that poor?" Her lips curled just a touch at the corners, continuing to slowly drink the water and forcing herself to eat the bread. She had no fever, but it was still evident that her face was pale and that she was breaking into cold sweats. "He does; I think he found me rather amusing earlier." She frowned, trying to recollect a few hours past, "Said I was rather cheerful."

Ewan's translation of that phrase, inebriated, twisted his mouth into an odd mixture of amused disapproval. "I see. Well, it is most certain your body is in a fine state of things. Let me tend to the fire before it goes full to embers, and we will talk of nonsense to keep you awake. How long must we keep you awake?" He asked as he moved to do as he said, stoking the fire and adding fuel.

"Oh, not too long I suppose." She finished the water, and set the glass on the ground next to the couch. She did not have the same progress with the bread. "I know I drank a mixture of alcohol and starroot, which is a rare item that blurs vision and heightens other senses. I heard music." She tried to focus her attention on the growing flames, the dark spots appearing again. "There was more, but I could not tell what."

He turned to face her, still crouched down, and watch as she spoke. As he opened his mouth to speak, a sharp knock struck the front door and a call barraged their abode. "Master Corinsson! Are you at home?" Ewan quirked a brow and signaled that Storm wait just where she was. He made way to the door, one hand on the hilt of a dagger. "Who calls?" The prompt reply, "Yransea calls across tunnels and seas." It was the right words and Ewan opened the door to let the gasping messenger inside.

Knowing what some of her memories were, he wondered at the complexity and burden of that. The knock turned him about. "Your father I trust?"

"Hmm." It was her sound subsitute of 'yes' and it was becoming more difficult to stay awake. Cornelious waited with unyielding patience, but the unknown reasons for his calling brought concern.

Ewan did not trust Storm to stay there, "Come on, beloved, let us go greet him." He picked her up and tried to force her to walk with him to the door.

"Beloved," she nearly pleaded as he picked her up only to set her on her feet. She did not say anything further though, and once again leaned against him to follow.

He did not call, Storm had verified it was Cornelious, and he opened the door. "Thank you for coming, sir,"he started and gave room for the man to enter. "May I ask how long she is supposed to be kept awake and why?" He needed to know, and it was simply a matter of the asking.

Cornelious stepped inside, Ewan's blunt urgency seemed to bring no physical reaction. "I wanted her to be awake to be certain that she would wake up in the morning. Her mind has had a difficult time readjusting." He parted an arm in an offer to take the leaning Storm, "She should be able to sleep soon."

Somewhat relieved, but not debating the obtuse logic, he gave Storm over to his care. "Well and good then. I need to be off. Thank you again, sir." Ewan went back to retrieve his pack in the bedroom.

Cornelious had tried to convince Ewan months ago to just call him by his first name. He had given that up weeks ago. "Still not feeling well?" He asked Storm as his arm wrapped around her in support. She looked up at him, blinking rapidly again and did not answer. Knowing that she was going to be looked over, her control on her body released. Eyes rolling to the top of her head, she went completely lax against him. "Ah, mercies. Storm." He said sharply, his arm tight around her. Scooping her up in him arms, he did not hesitate to jog into the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets to find a towel to dampen to bring her around.

Ewan heard the commotion on his way out of the room and went in to see the matter. "Swords and arrows," he cursed. Bag dropped in the hallway, he went out the front door, scooped up a handful of snow and brought it in to press against the back of her neck.

"Storm, you have to do what your father says. I have to leave, and I cannot do that if you do not follow directions," he scolded.

Cornelious found what he was looking for just as Ewan came in with a handful of snow. Storm was already trying to open her eyes, but the coldness against her neck had her eyes opening. She coughed slightly, trying to squirm away from the chill. "I could not hold it back any longer." Her voice was a mixture of an apology and a plea. "You need to go." She stated, her eyes looking on him and finally holding a focus.

Shaking his hand free of the remaining snow that melted into cold water. "Yes, I need to go, and you need to get well. I will send word, beloved, as soon as I can. Two days time. Two days and you will have word." He promised and kissed her forehead. A glance to Cornelious and a bow of his head. Snatching the bag from the floor, a swift trot took him through the door and out.

Storm protruded her lips forward slightly and reread Ewan?s letter for the fourth time. It was settling and unsettling at the same time. She was glad that Sylvia was alive, but the road back to RhyDin caused some concern. What caused more concern was that he was sending more word in two days, which meant that he was not returning with Sylvia. Who would be, then, and what information did he have? Letting out a sigh, she finished the last bit of her dry toast and slowly stood from her seat at the table.

For the majority of the afternoon, the nausea had subdued and Storm took the time to putter around the home. Her mind could not handle staying in bed all day, and her hands itched to do something though her body did not. Her father had taken Avery to school, and from there went to see about settling the New Guardians in. She hated that she was not there to help, to do her job, and had vowed that no matter how she felt tomorrow, that she would make an appearance to Paola.

Now the sun was beginning to settle, and Storm?s qualm had returned. She had forced herself to eat dry toast, and in the middle of her dinner was a knock on the door. Now she sat with the knowledge that Ewan was safe, but things in Seansloe were not in order. Her fingers traced over handwriting, particularly where he asked about her health and he sent his love. She did not know why this time was so different from any other, but she missed him.

Making her way towards the quills, ink and parchment, she heard her door open and the familiar quick footsteps of Avery. She made sure to set her items on top of Ewan?s folded letter. Their son did not need to know of Sylvia and his beloved playmates. Instead, she smiled brightly for him and gathered him up in her arms. ?Oh, you are home late, little one. Did Nonno get lost walking you home?? She hugged him gently and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

*Nonno took me out to dinner!* Just as the statement was made, Cornelious stepped into the kitchen. He did not say anything though, and moved to make some tea. *I am teaching him sign!*

?Are you now? He will need all the help that he can get.? She set him down, and moved slowly back to her seat. ?Your father wrote us a letter, and says that he loves you very much and that he will be home sooner than you know it. Would you like to write him back??

*Yes! I have to tell him that he owes me a horse ride to school.* Nearly bouncing on his toes, he moved to sit in his seat and Storm gave him a spare quill, a piece of parchment, and opened her ink. ?You roll up your sleeves and be careful now with Mother?s ink.?

Satisfied, she knew he would be careful and looked over her shoulder at her father. They shared a look, and said no words, though the air stirred with other messages. She turned, and took her own time to write a letter to her husband.

Several minutes later, she folded her and Avery?s letters together, and melted grey wax over and pressed her seal upon it. She could only hope that he would be home soon, and that she would be well when the time came.