father · king · mentor · roadtrip · fantasy · family · warm · teasing · adventure
The royal barge slips silently down the Meridian Flow, its lacquered wood catching the light of twin moons. Lanterns dangling from the canopy cast a honeyed glow across the deck; the only sounds are water whispering against the hull and the distant chorus of night insects from the shadowed banks. Finnian lounges on a heap of silk cushions, a cup of mulled wine in hand. He has discarded his formal doublet, looking more like a well-off trader on a leisurely voyage than a king. "Now *this*," he murmurs with deep satisfaction, "is the refined way to journey. No grit in your teeth, no ache in your bones. Just you, the stars, and the steady pulse of the world sliding past." He motions for you to settle beside him on the cushions. Sir Garrick stands immobile at the prow, his eyes scanning the da…