Fudge, Family, and Firelight

Despite his zealous consumption of scones and tea at Tremaine's house, Sabriel's face lit up at the sight and aroma of food. Angus's production of eggs, fruit salad, bacon and scones sent a thrill through him that only food could.

A few chairs over, Abbey gave a command. "Down!"

Brian released his little one from her chair. Less than a moment later, Dakota was producing identical orders: "Down, down!"

Sabriel could catch the amusement in the man's eyes as he let his daughter down from her chair. He had a short moment with her during which the child was determined to convince him to let her play in the "wa!". He promised she would later, and Sabriel felt a pang of envy when the man knelt down to kiss her cheek. He did not quite know where it came from. It surprised him, really.

Sabriel reasoned that it was unconscious. Ferris never gave him such affection because - Sabriel deduced - he was too busy to pay any consistent attention to his children. Even his mother tended to her own affairs separately, and he was left in the care of his nurses or his sisters. His mother had kissed him before, but her affections were chaste and nowhere near the magnitude at which his grandmother and Khaat showered him with.

Khaat.

Somehow he felt better when he thought of her. Arranging, his utensils delicately by his plate, Sabriel thought of what he should eat. When nothing except everything was the definite option, he lifted his fork and commenced filling his plate.

Sabe had begun scarfing down his food (in his polite, obscure manner, of course) the moment he had successfully taken a portion of everything. Truthfully, it was a God-given instinct. His entire life was a haze of the repeated mantra: "Eat, eat, eat!" And therefore, he ate.

As the boy silently indulged himself, he listened as Khaat and Angus exchanged a few terse, albeit loving words. It was actually a very strange sight. In fact, the entire evening was rather unusual. The air was so informal. Casual. In the Gardinier manor, such was not unacceptable, but it was uncommon. Angus rectified his mistake and placed a chaste kiss on Khaat's cheek. Sir Lupin offered a comment on Khaat's diet, and she bit back, "Nag."

How strange. He blinked widely at everyone, chewing delicately.

"Brian lives and breathes either fighting or teaching others how to become fighters. And the physical and magical training that goes with it. I hear the muggles have some sort of sports trainers or something. It makes me wonder if they took a page from people like Brian that have been training aurors for hundreds of years."

It was natural instinct to learn to fight and defend oneself, Sabriel mentally reasoned. Had it not been for certain techniques passed down through the ages, none of them would exist. Civilization's most basic functions required certain degrees of education. First-generation settlers learned information on their own. For better progress, the knowledge was passed onto their offspring and so forth. As teachings grew more complex, certain arts developed. Be it the dark arts or martial arts, these arts developed over time and grew independently. Sabriel called it cultural ingenuity.

"Its certainly possible," said Robert. Sabe looked at him, holding his fork loosely in his left hand. "That would be a worthwhile research project for you and Sabe some rainy day. To sneak back to the farm and siphon through the library and see what you can find."

"Depends on just how much adventure Sabe is interested in." That was Khaat. She turned to smile at him. It was a welcoming smile, and Sabriel found himself giving a tentative, albeit genuine smile back.

"Sounds like fun," he admitted. "I love to learn." And he blushed, and went back to stuffing his face.

Sabriel nodded. He cleaned his place, delicately forking the last bit of fruit and tucking it atop his tongue. As he chewed, he packed up the utensils and arranged them how he'd often seen the maids do -- wrapping them in his folded napkin and placing his cup on top of the dish. He paused. He was a little unsure where to go from here. He speculated he did not have to remove them or wash them. Now thoroughly satisfied, the boy wiped his clothes (despite there not being a mark of dirt on the garments) and stood.

Robert and Brian had engaged in a friendly, albeit humorous squabble. Sabe gave a mute giggle, bringing his hand up to his lips in an attempt to stifle to action. "Ignore them," Khaat said. "Its just friendly verbal sparring. "

Sabe turned to her with a wide smile, and nodded.

Angus piped up, "Make sure you're back for dinner. We're doing barbequed ribs and some shrimp skewers out on the beach."

Sabriel's eyes lit up. Despite his full stomach and current lack of an appetite, he knew he would definitely be looking forward to the meal later that day. He smiled and, once again, nodded wordlessly to the man.

"Sounds great. We'll be back by then," Brian replied. He gestured to the coffee pot, and Sabriel followed his movement curiously. "I promised Abbey we'd swim anyway."

That was true. Sabriel left his seat, scooting the chair back in, to stand next to Brian. What an evening this would be! Sabriel was curious about the pygmy puffs. Some Hogwarts students had them; they were rather cute. He had not seen a rainbow colored one, though. What sort of Transfiguration or charm was in effect?

Sabriel knew they would be portkeying again. He worked on preparing himself, although he was certain the nausea of the journey would certainly affect him regardless. He hoped he wouldn't throw up such a wonderful breakfast. That would both be embarrassing, disgusting and an inconvenience for everyone.

"Well, let's go, then," Brian said. He got up and took his wand out of his boot. When Sabe was ready and had taken his arm, he used a portkey and ported them to Robert's farm, with its large sprawling farmhouse. "Alright?" he asked Sabe. "Let's go in, shall we?" he got a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door that led into the large, farmhouse kitchen. "Through here. The place is sort of disorganized in its design. They just sort of added whatever they needed and stuck it onto the house wherever it seemed to make sense. Robert's library, though, is one of my favorite spots. Its through here." He led Sabe out of the kitchen and through a central atrium that served to connect several hallways, one to another. He kept walking to a large, heavy oak door and flicked his wand at it. The door yielded and opened to his nonverbal spell.

"Lights!" he commanded. The lights in the library lit instantly to his command, displaying the classical oak furnishings and bookcases that stretched down into the cellar and up at least two floors beyond. The furniture was oak and leather. It was classical elegance. "Come in," he invited Sabe. "The library has four floors. He's connected all the floors of the house in here with that spiral staircase in the center of the room. The cellar is almost entirely devoted to his potions lab. Then there is this floor, the upstairs level, and what is, technically, the attic level. You'll find its organized like any other wizarding library. Training books could be divided between the Defense Against the Dark Arts books, the Dark Arts books, and the medical books. I suggest we divide and conquer. What do you think?"