It was one of those storms that seemed like a living thing. It wasn't enough that the wind blew furiously, the rain poured, and the blasts of lightning lit up the night, bearing all the force of a mighty, impersonal Nature. Rather, the storm seemed imbued with a will of its own, an elemental rage so that the howls of the wind were screams of fury, the rain lashed at the city like cresting waves seeking to tear it down, and the thunder that rattled the windows in their casements seemed like a besieger trying to force entry.
It was, in short, the kind of night which drove the imaginative or fearful to huddle close to their loved ones for reassurance, to feel the touch of human warmth. Even Mage Consul Lillet Blan, whose magic was capable of commanding entities actually able of being in reality what the storm only seemed in metaphor, felt the impact of the weather. Her homunculus lover, Amoretta Virgine, didn't have the kind of imagination that imputed human feelings to the weather, but she also never needed a reason to cling closely to Lillet. Her slender form was half-draped over Lillet's as they lay on the library sofa, taking turns reading chapters to one another of a sensation novel being serialized in the Flying Mercury.
The idyllic atmosphere of the moment was broken by a particularly brilliant flash of lightning that lit up the windows like they were ablaze, followed almost immediately by a deafeningly loud crash of thunder that suggested the bolt had struck close nearby, perhaps even on the grounds of the estate. The moment of awed surprise they created, though, was shattered in turn by a high-pitched scream of fright in a little girl's voice followed by a loud crashing sound.
Both women were off the couch in an instant and sprinting through the mansion with a speed and agility that owed to being two mothers responding to a cry from their child. They reached the door of their daughter's bedroom just ahead of several servants (three human, two elven) who had responded to the same noises as Lillet and Amoretta. They made a little cluster behind the parents as Lillet threw open the door.
"Cress, honey, are you all right?" she cried, seeing the disarray in the room.
The little girl's bed had been flipped over onto its side, which had spilled her out onto the rug in the tangle of bedclothes.
"Yes, Mama. I just got really surprised when the bed fell over," Cressidor hastened to assure her. The thick carpet and the plush blankets and quilt were more than enough padding to prevent injury, so that none of the protective wards Lillet had placed on her had even been triggered.
"But what caused the bed to fall?" Amoretta asked.
"Oh, that was Shuck."
At the sound of his name, the quarter-ton barghest nervously peeked his head around the footboard. His ears were pressed back against his head and he was trembling.
"He got really scared by that last big lightning bolt and tried to hide under the bed, only there wasn't enough space." Cressidor tipped her head to the side curiously. "Is it okay if I get the quilts and blankets and sleep on the floor with him, Mother? I think it'll help him be less frightened."
"I think that would be all right. That's very good of you to try to comfort Shuck."
"Of course!" she said, then added earnestly, "And helping to keep the furniture safe is part of my responsibility as the owner of a large-breed dog!"