Morgan had found the services of a good nanny (or sitter who was becoming one) invaluable at times like this. He loved his kids but sometimes there were things they didn't need to be around to see. Like the pretty inevitable bloodletting between the married demigods who had been trapped in human bodies.

He'd set the house up as best he could. Table, three chairs, three bottles of good wine, three glasses.

So he didn't have to take either side or let either of the others see him favouring one or the other. Which was nonsense of course because, guilt aside, they both knew he did. But why create that kind of environment? So he slumped back in his chair and let the others come as they would. They knew the time, they knew the place and he'd made it more than possible for the both of them to get there.

Whether or not they'd leave before things were finished wasn't anything he'd promised, after all.

"At times I am left to wonder... was the house vacated when you found it, or did you simply bribe the inhabitants to stay away for the day?" Maalech had appeared in the doorway, in his usual loose grey pants and shirt, to all appearances as cool and collected as ever. It had been some time since he had bothered with maintaining a facade, but it seemed like the safest thing to do for now. He could understand Morgan choosing the Wreath for this meeting, and since it was away from his own room it was as close to neutral ground as he might have wished. It did not hurt that he hoped that this particular continuum was as safe from the Tzarg as he could hope.

It was a slim hope, given his suspicions, but it was all that he had. And they were still alive, all of them.

"Just found an empty building, Wove a little 'nothing to see here' into its fabric, put up some chairs for atmosphere and here we are," the man explained with a vague chuckle, making a sweeping gesture of the little place. "Nothing special but, then, it doesn't need to be."

Cracking his neck, he took a drink from his glass, looking up at the man. Tropics suited Mal. Weird.

"Take a seat. Still waiting on Aly as near as I can tell."

"Your forethought is admirable." It was hard to see whether Maalech was joking or not, but he looked around the room but briefly before moving to one of the chairs.

He did not sit down.

"It is a question of power, to arrive late. Waiting wears on most peoples nerves, and focuses the attention on the subject at hand. it can be a quiet powerful tool. The trick of course is to tome it right, before boredom drains what advantage one might have."

"Well, if she plans on boring me to death, she'll have to just go for a swim to the 'Dale. I learned patience along the way." Or, at least, he liked to think so. Sipping his wine, he pressed the sole of his boot on the table and leaned his chair back, looking out the window toward the street where the many, many young, toned, tanned people flitted about.

"Besides, there's way too much going on, anyway."

He smiled lazily at that and shrugged, sipping his drink again.

Maybe she'd just got herself a few hangers-on and had a little fun with 'em first. Might settle her down some.

"It is comforting to see that at least not all things change" Maalech noted, with a dry almost smile as he followed Morgan's glance. "What state was she in then, when she arrived here?"

"State? Oh, please... I was mad. The angry mad. I outgrew the other kind."

Alynealin had, in the short time they had been here, still managed to find and put on a new dress. This left most of her shounders bare, the shawl draped low over her arms, the wide ruffled shirt revealing shapely feet, bare as always.

Her eyes remained fixed on neither man as she stepped inside.

"So I'm a dirty old man," Morgan said with a grin, "No harm in looking or begrudging others something I could've taken better advantage of at the time. Hell, I looked like half of these boys, back home I'd have been fightin' 'em off with a stick." He chuckled a little at that before slumping down and running his hand over his head.

Maybe it was time to just turn into something limp and lustless, after all. He sounded like a creep.

Thankfully, Aly had come in by the time that bit of thinking turned its gruesome head.

He turned to Mal with a smirk, "You heard the lady," Morgan chuckled as he stood up, pouring a drink and handing it to Alynealin, "Thanks for coming."

Alynealin accepted the glass with quiet dignity, still carrying herself as if she was a queen visiting some foreign dignitaries. Control. She could muster it still.

"Will you interfere then, or keep to observation?" Her voice was as stiff as her spine as she looked at Morgan, but her eyes quickly shot back to Maalech.

After a moment of silence, in which nothing in the room stirred despite her wishes, she simply stated "You should kneel if forgiveness is what you seek."

Maalech sighed, some of the mask slipping. He looked tired. "I was never in the habit of kneeling, you of all people should know that. And it is not forgiveness I seek."