#but also tends to step on toes!!! but also mari is so loyal and so like. attentive? eager? in a way akilah isnt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

your wonder under summer skies (8/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

-/-

“What time are we supposed to be there?”

“Six,” Killian shouts across the apartment, “but it’d probably be nice if we managed to get there early.”

“It’s your party. They can’t start without you.”

Killian runs his hands through his hair and brushes the front strands back before combing a small amount of gel through it so it’ll stay in place. “It’s a barbecue that I think they realized they were hosting on my birthday at the last minute. It’s not my party.”

“It’s your party, little brother.”

Killian clenches his teeth before he swallows his pride. He’s not going to start something, not now. They’ve had a good day together, and the last thing he needs is to have Liam being passive aggressive to him all night long. He’s been cross for a week now, ever since Killian didn’t come home and asked Liam if he’d let Skipper out in the morning for him.

“Where were you?” Liam asked.

“I was with someone,” Killian mumbled as he pushes through the apartment door. “I’ll try to plan better next time.”

“Next time? So you’ve found your seasonal woman then?”

“Shove it, Liam.”

“If you want me to take care of your dog, you at least owe me some answers.”

Killian turned on his heel and narrowed his eyes. “My personal life is my own. Question it again at your own peril.”

“Oh, so maybe you didn’t find someone. You’re usually cheerier after a night like that.”

“Fuck off.”

He’s got to figure out some kind of plan for Skipper if that’s how Liam is going to be every time Killian doesn’t manage to get home before dawn. That night he’d been sitting in a service station parking lot until seven talking with Emma and had lost track of time, but he’ll have to be more careful.

Or get Emma one of those rope ladders in order to climb out the window.

She’d murder him.

Then again, it’d be better than sending her falling out the window.

The rope ladder, not being murdered.

“It’s a barbecue,” Killian sighs as he grabs a flannel shirt off the hanger and pulls it on. It’s too hot for it now, but it won’t be later. The summer heat fades away as soon as the sun goes down, and he’s certainly not going to complain about it when it’s the best part of any late June day. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. We’ve got to pick up Elsa on our way there.”

“Her apartment is on the other side of town.”

“She’s at the country club with Emma. We’re picking her up, too.”

“Oh?” Killian raises his brow.

Liam furrows his in response. “What?”

“Nothing,” he lies, not wanting to push anything. “Let’s go. You can drive. It’s my birthday, and I’m not about to be the designated driver.”

“Consider it my gift to you.”

Emma and Elsa are waiting for them in the driveway of the club. Elsa’s in the shorts and polo she wears to work, the only thing missing the apron that keeps the ice cream off of her. Emma, however, is in a form-fitting black camisole tucked into a white patterned skirt that’s nearly see-through in the sunlight. He’s got no bloody clue how she got away with wearing that to work unless Regina wasn’t around, but he’s certainly not going to complain.

Except for the fact that they’re about to be in an extremely public place where he can’t enjoy her attire as much as he’d like to.

“Hey,” Elsa greets as she hops into the back of the truck. “Happy birthday, Killian.”

“Thank you, love.” Emma’s door opens behind him, and she slides in. “Do we need to take you by your place so you can change?”

“What? My uniform doesn’t scream birthday barbecue to you?”

“You have a giant ice cream cone on your shoulder.”

Elsa’s eyes roll. “I don’t need to change. We can go.”

“Aye, aye Captain,” Liam sighs, his lips pulled into a bright smile as he stares in the rearview mirror. Elsa chuckles and returns his smile, and Killian looks away. He’s not intruding, but it damn well feels like it.

Elsa and Liam monopolize the conversation on the drive to the Nolans’ as Elsa fills Liam in on everything having to do with the wedding. The thing isn’t for three months, but as he’s been informed over and over again, that isn’t a lot of time when there’s still so much to be done.

(There are pictures of flowers spread out across his kitchen counter with notes written on all of them, and he has no idea how that is going to help come up with a bouquet or arrangements when there are at least fifty options that will lead to endless combinations and possibilities.)

It’s nice to see Liam involved, though. He’s usually so wrapped up in work that he rarely does anything outside of that.

But this is Elsa, and Liam would do anything for Elsa.

He gets that trait from their mum, Killian thinks. She was always beyond loyal to the people she loved even when that was to her own detriment.

They pull onto the road that leads up to the Nolans’ townhome, and Liam finds a spot behind Ariel’s car. She’s already texted him three times today to tell him how excited she is for it to be Killian’s birthday, and he honestly doesn’t think he’s known a singular person to have so much enthusiasm.

Liam and Elsa fall into step ahead of him, Liam’s arm wrapped around Elsa’s shoulder, and Killian feels Emma’s hand brush against his as a shiver inches across his skin. He looks down to see if it’s still there, but it’s not. She’s got it pushed into the pocket of her skirt, and when he glances up, he can see that she’s looking in the opposite direction.

Is she avoiding him?

“Did you have a good day at work?”

“It was fine. Regina was the worst, but otherwise it was fine.”

“Oh? Regina was there today?”

Emma finally turns to him with an arched brow. “Why would you think she wasn’t there?”

“Because she’s rarely there, and I know for a fact that when she is, you have to be a little more uptight with your clothes.”

Emma stops in front of the Nolans’ open front door and crosses her arms over her chest. “What are you saying about my clothes, KJ?”

Killian raises his hands in the air and takes a step back even as he curls his lips into a smile he knows is his most earnest. Well, in a way.

“You cut quite the figure in that outfit, love, but I can also see almost all of your figure in the natural light.”

Her eyes widen and the sunlight glints across them to illuminate the green. “You can what?”

Killian gestures down to her skirt. “I can see the outline of your legs through your skirt, Swan.”

“Can you see my underwear?”

“Eh.” He scratches his ear. “Possibly.”

“Well, shit. I’ve been walking around like this all day. When is the sun going to set so I can stop flashing people?”

“In a few hours.”

“Great. So I’m about to flash all of our friends?”

“Every single person here has seen you in the small scraps of fabric you call a bikini. I think you’ll be fine.”

She tilts her head back, elongating her neck, and groans. “It’s fine, I guess. It’s too late to change now unless I want to wear Mary Margaret’s clothes, and I like this outfit. Happy birthday, by the way. Did you get the cupcakes I sent you?”

“Aye. I had the lemon one. I saved the chocolate one for you. I figured you’d picked that one out for yourself anyway.”

“I am neither confirming nor denying that.”

“I don’t tend to eat chocolate, and you sent me one chocolate cupcake in a group of otherwise nicely flavored cupcakes. It’s pretty clear.”

Emma shrugs, but her lips curl up in the corners. “I’ve got something else for you, too.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

Killian sways closer to her and cocks his head to the side. “Do I get it now or is that happening when you come over to get your cupcake?”

“It’s for now.”

“Why, Swan, so close to all of our friends? That’s risky.”

She presses up on her toes, and he swears her lips brush over his. “I’m not having sex with you for your birthday, but I do have you tickets to a Yankees game in August.”

“Bloody hell. Really?”

“Really.” She presses forward and brushes her lips against his cheek. “Happy birthday, KJ. Feel free to take whoever you want to the game, but if it’s not me, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Killian throws his head back and laughs before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Emma. “Will is going to fight you for it, but you’re definitely a contender.”

“Good. Now let’s go inside. A whole host of people are waiting inside to celebrate you.”

“I think they’re here for the food.”

“Eh, don’t get into the specifics.”

Emma’s right. There is a host of people waiting inside for him. It’s rare for all of them to have off on the same day, especially a Saturday night, and even if he is not one to want a big celebration for himself, it’s nice to get to catch up with everyone. Though, he does remind himself that this was never intended for him, but that doesn’t matter when the food is good and the beer is cold against his lips.

Ruby and Will are currently arguing over the best way to make a margarita, Mary Margaret is offering to set up a competition between them, and David is insisting that doesn’t happen because Mary Margaret and tequila are not a good combination.

“Oh come on,” Elsa sighs, “let’s do the competition. I want to relive Mary Margaret’s bachelorette weekend.”

“Can’t that wait until your own bachelorette weekend?” David groans.

“Mine is hopefully going to consist of a weekend at the spa and the exact opposite of Mary Margaret’s because Anna is planning it instead of Ruby.”

“Hey,” Ruby scoffs, “what the hell does that mean?”

“I think it means that if anyone is going host a party with gummy dicks, it’s going to be you.”

“I did for mine,” Ariel adds in.

“Wait? What?” Eric looks over at his wife, and Killian hears Emma snicker in the lawn chair next to him. “You had those?”

“I did. They were really good. I think I still have some of the packets stuffed away in a closet somewhere.”

“Ruby can get you some more,” Mary Margaret says. “She’s got a contact at the company who makes them.”

“Liam, it seems like we’re all set for your party then.”

Liam tosses a cube of ice at Killian, but he misses him as it skims behind him. “I might let you plan it, or I might let Rob takeover. He’s less likely to get us arrested.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means law enforcement finds my face kinder than yours,” Robin sighs. “And you do have a tendency to, well, get yourself in trouble.”

“I’ve never gotten myself bloody arrested!”

“Okay,” Will claps, “I think we can all agree that I will be the host as I am the only one of the lot of you who knows how to have a good time.”

“Oh, why don’t we do one together,” Elsa suggests. “We can take out one of the big boats for a day and just hang out. Like this, but better because we’re out on the water. We can find a day where Anna can come down.”

“I think that’s a brilliant idea, darling. Maybe we could find a house and get out of the city for a weekend.” Liam leans over and kisses Elsa’s forehead. “We’ll even let Ruby get the dick gummies if she really has to have that.”

“I do. I also want birthday cake, so birthday boy, can we please finally cut in before I have to take the entire thing for myself?”

“Let’s eat cake,” Killian demands. “And have the margarita contest.”

David slumps down in his chair and covers his face with his hands.

They don’t actually hold a contest, deciding that no one actually wants to see Will and Mary Margaret argue for the rest of the night, but Ruby does get her cake. Killian’s body has to be made up of fifty percent sugar at this point in the day, but he honestly doesn’t care. The sun sets and the backyard is lit only by the string lights hanging above them and the lights shining through the windows in the houses across the street. Rob’s left to meet up with Regina, her son, and Roland, and Eric had to leave to tend to the restaurant but left Ariel behind. She’s taken that as a sign that she has to talk his ear off about next week’s Fourth of July beach festival.

“Don’t you remember when you first moved here and you thought it was the worst thing in the world?”

“I still think it’s the worst thing in the world.”

“But it’s so much fun! The city brings in rides and games, and the firework show. My God, it’s like magic. Plus, Eric makes a killing at the restaurant from all the extra people that come in. Oh, Emma!”

Killian glances behind him and sees Emma walking by with half a hot dog in her mouth. “What?”

“Don’t you think the carnival is so much fun?”

She covers her mouth and keeps chewing as she walks over to them. “I think it has the potential to be fun, but it usually ends with some kid throwing up on my shoes or me having to go into work because Regina is fuming over the festival we do for our members not being as lavish.”

“Oh, come on, the two of you need to lighten up. It’s going to be fun!”

“I will try to muster half of the enthusiasm that you have, love.”

“That’s all I ask. Are there still hot dogs?”

“A few more, but you’re going to have to fight David for them.”

“Oh, I can definitely take him. I’ll be right back.”

Ariel leaves them, and Emma plops herself down into the chair next to him before propping her feet up on his lap and kicking off her sandals while she continues to eat her food.

“Were you not considering a plate for that?”

“Nope.”

“Classy.”

She shrugs. “I do what I can. So, how’s your night been? I thought you were going to hurl yourself at Liam earlier.”

Killian’s brow raises. “Pardon?”

“When he made that joke about you likely getting them arrested at his bachelor party you looked like you were getting ready to murder him.”

“Did I?”

“I mean, you pretty much always look like you’re going to murder him, but your jaw did that thing where it clenches and moves all broody and angry like.”

He swallows and blinks at Emma, letting his eyes adjust to the ever-darkening night. There must be clouds in the sky for how few stars are showing, and maybe if he stares at it long enough, he won’t have to have this conversation.

He could really use another beer right now.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’d get anyone arrested. You like to play scoundrel, but I’m pretty sure you’ve always been the type to play by the rules.”

“Swan, we both know that’s a lie. Even when I was a buttoned-up Naval lieutenant I still hated not being the one in charge. So many of the damn rules were ridiculous.”

“Like what?”

He draws his finger to his neck. “I would be reprimanded if I had a hickey on my neck. The damn things are unattractive, yes, but I don’t think I deserved to be punished for it.”

“That happen to you a lot then? Your women couldn’t keep their hands off of you? Well, their mouth.”

Emma’s laughing at herself, but he feels his stomach sink with her words. But she doesn’t know. He’s never told her.

And now certainly isn’t the time.

“I think you’d be surprised with how I was when I was younger.”

“Yeah?”

“Aye. I mean, I was still this handsome and charming, but I could keep a woman for longer than a summer.”

“I’m sure you could.”

She shifts her foot on his lap and Killian’s hand falls to her ankle. Her skin is as soft as it always is, and he starts aimlessly drawing on her skin. Does no one believe that he’s capable of more than one-night stands and summer flings?

Though, he doesn’t blame them. He doesn’t exactly believe that about himself. It’s been a long damn time since he was capable of more than that.

A long time since he’s wanted to be.

“But seriously? You two okay?”

He shakes his head and forces a smile. “We’re fine, darling.”

“Superpower, Jones.”

“Can’t it be wrong one time?”

Emma shrugs and takes the last bite out of her hot dog. “It’s probably wrong all the time, but I like to believe in it.”

Killian sighs.

Damn perceptive woman.

“Liam has been a little cross with me since I wasn’t home last week to let Skipper out. He does this. He assumes I’m with some woman and gets irritated because he can’t understand that I’m not like him and can’t find someone like Elsa who I want to marry and settle down with. I don’t know. He’s thought of himself as my father for most of his life, and I know he means well, but his intentions don’t always translate.”

“Was that when you were with me?”

“Aye.”

Emma’s foot moves to shift off of him, but he grabs it and keeps it in place before looking up at her. She’s chewing on her bottom lip and has her head twisted to the side. Light reflects off her cheekbones and illuminates the angles of her face and reaches up into her hair. It’s usually golden like threads from a fairytale, but right now it’s a translucent white that matches the smile he’s usually lucky enough to be graced with.

He’s known many beautiful women in his lifetime, but there is something so undeniably different about Emma Swan.

A yellow wildflower in a garden full of red roses. Some people prefer roses with all of their petals perfectly lined up, but he’s always been a fan of flowers showing up in a place they otherwise do not fit and becoming beautiful all the same.

He’s always preferred a wildflower to a rose.

Emma Swan is undoubtedly a wildflower.

“If I’m coming between you guys…” She trails off and worries her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I don’t want that.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She motions over to where Liam is sitting at a table with Elsa, David, and Mary Margaret. “You and Liam. I’m the woman you’re sleeping with. I’m the one who is keeping you from having this stable relationship you so want. And we both know he would implode if he found any of this out.”

“You are not keeping me from anything. If I wanted something stable, I’d have it.” Killian pushes her foot off of him and leans forward until his face is within inches of hers and he can see the green of her eyes and the freckles on her nose. He likes that there are more nearly every time he sees her. “And last week I was with you because you needed me as a friend. I’m always going to be here for you like that. That’s rule one, isn’t it?”

Emma huffs and blinks up at him before she finally stops chewing on her lip and smiles. “Hey, it’s your birthday. We should be having more fun than this, shouldn’t we?”

And he knows it’s a conversation change. He’s not blind. But he also isn’t in the mood to push Emma right now. She will push back, and it doesn’t always end up being pretty.

“What do you suggest we do then, love?”

“Do you feel like an old school classic with some drinks involved or should we go raid David and Mary Margaret’s game cabinet?”

“Oh, classic, definitely. You want to do the cereal box one?”

“Is that the one where we all have to pick it up with our mouths? That’s kind of unsanitary.”

Killian’s brows raise. “Your mouth has touched many places on me, so I think you’ll be okay.”

Emma scoffs and pushes against his shoulder. “Don’t be gross. We’re going to do ‘Never Have I Ever’ because this is your twenty-eighth birthday, and we’re all super mature.”

“Obviously. We should have let Mary Margaret and Will do their margarita contest in preparation for this.”

“Mary Margaret’s would have won. “

“If you tell Will that, it will devastate him.”

She shrugs and stands up, stepping into her shoes. “I’ll let him keep his pride. Now, c’mon, it’s time to ask each other very pointed embarrassing questions in the spirit of celebrating your birth.”

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @shardminds @captainsjedi @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @itsfabianadocarmo @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

73 notes · View notes

xsalems · 5 years

Text

( cismale/ he/him ) ;; agent [ salem yakov ] better known as [ apollo ] is a [ 23 ] year old [ intelligence agent ] from [ moscow, russia ]. they’ve been with the circle for [ eight years ] and it’s noted on file that they’re often mistaken for [ timothee chalamet ]. the three songs they use to unwind are [ stabbat mater / woodkid, clair de lune / claude debussy & ave maria / alexander markov ]. if asked, people might associate them with [ bitten nails, stark white ballet shoes, catlike eyes in the shadows, and red wine spilled like blood ]. ( *ooc ;; nomi, twenty two, est, she/her )

hey, hi, hello, next up is the second of my two kiddos, salem. down bellow is pretty much about everything you need to know about him and i’m going to try and keep things short and sweet because i have the tendency to be longwinded af sksdkjs i did pretty good with mari though so here’s hoping! here is a pinterest board for salem

THE RUNDOWN

TRAITS ; (+) intelligent, witty, resourceful, loyal (-) cold, vain, self-centered, conceited

Salem was born in Moscow, Russia and raised there for nearly a decade of his life by his mother Asja. During that time, despite being from a less than extraordinary background Salem displayed extraordinary intelligence that caught the attention of the Russian mob.

The mobs interest in Salem was brought about by a desire to remain untracked. They planned to use of Salem’s memory, intelligence, and unassuming appearance to have a human computer of sorts, one that could never be hacked. Salem was both bribed and blackmailed into working for them at the age of seven, where he was given the option to either work for them, earn large sums of money and have his sick mother get treatment for her aids, or refuse them and have his mother killed. Salem chose the former and was quickly transferred over to America with a brand new identity and a brand new ‘father’.

Sasha Zima, a boss of the American branch of the mob was appointed to be Salem’s handler, and disguise himself as Salem’s father. Under Sasha’s watchful eye Salem was made to memorize codes for safes, keep track of the financial aspect of a lot of the mob’s businesses, and occasionally spy for them in places that only a cherubic seven year old child could avoid suspicion. Everything Salem was made to memorize was later burned or disposed of, though this was never a problem for Salem due to his photographic memory. That said, since Salem never got a single digit, letter, or word of anything he was told to memorize wrong, his word was treated as gospel. People were killed or tortured simply based on the things that Salem recalls remembering, and while that in itself was traumatizing, the level of power he held was almost frighteningly intoxicating.

Soon, Salem was ‘homeschooled’ based on the needs of the mob. He was taught robotics engineering by university professors so that he could memorize and communicate blueprints to members of the mob who needed them, and build the mob tools they needed from memory if need be. He was also tutored in languages by international travelers so that he could translate any information he held. After a kidnapping attempt by the Yakuza, Salem was even taught self defense so that the mob could protect their investment. At the time, Salem thought that all this was all simply what was expected of a member of the mob. It was only later that he found out that Sasha had taken a liking to him and had given him some special treatment.

Being the son of Sasha Zima itself had some perks. While Salem’s true identity was secret, his fake one was that of a rich man’s son, so to keep up appearances Salem lived well. Because of Sasha’s fondness for him, he was given lessons in violin, harp, piano, ballet, archery, and fencing, that he was encouraged to show off at the grand luxurious parties his father would hold. Ballet and archery were what Salem really excelled at, although his skills on the violin were quite good too.

For eight years Salem almost got used to life as the mobs pet. Yes, he missed his mother, but he was constantly being assured she was being taken care of and that the work he was doing here for her was ensuring that she never had to sell her body for money again. That she was safe and happy, and proud of him, and Salem knows that he was naive to believe it but at the time he trusted Sasha, and he was even shown pictures of her, videos of her, all of her getting better and making progress. And whenever Salem even dare to step a toe out of line or even think of doing so, his mother’s life was threatened. So to some extent, Salem thought that he was doing the right thing, even if he was doing the wrong thing.

That was until he was approached by The Circle at the age of fifteen, through some... messy circumstances (lets just say, Salem was lucky he was a (very useful) minor at the time). It was through this interaction that he came to know that his mother had been dead for four years, and that the mob had essentially been lying to him to keep him under their control. Again he was given yet another choice that could change his life. This time there was no reluctance. The betrayal that Salem felt burned too furiously for him to even consider second thoughts.

Salem remained deep under cover for two years after that initial meeting with The Circle, working quietly as an informant and mole for them and bidding his time for the chance at revenge. After a year of careful planning an opportunity presented itself, and Salem was able to get several key members of the mob arrested with air tight evidence, including Sasha.

Salem still has mixed feelings about Sasha’s arrest. On one hand, he was the only father Salem had ever had, but on the other, that could just be the Stockholm syndrome talking.

Since then Salem has been working for The Circle. Despite his desperate craving for something different and challenging, he showed the most aptitude for the Intelligence Department, which really doesn’t feel that different from his time in the mob. His goal is to find a way to formally transfer to The Genesis Department, but until then he tends to tinker for his own entertainment.

FUN FACTS

his backstory is based off of a jason statham movie i saw the night i found this rp. coincidence??? i think not

eats??? like trash??? this boy survives on sugar and junk food and he’s the PICKIEST eater you ever did see

speaks english, russian, french, italian, spanish, japanese, and mandrin chinese, he’s currently working on polish in his spare time

is actually really good at building little gadgets, and probably could have gotten into Genesis if he had more experience creating his own designs. To the point that Salem joined The Circle he had pretty much been trained to be a copy cat, just recording and regurgitating information. If he was assessed again now there might be a different result.

A HUGE gossip. After years of having to keep his lips sealed about everything always, Salem relishes the opportunity to just talk shit. As long as it’s not national secrets he’s probably trying to whisper about it to somebody.

Salem’s morals are incredibly grey. He is that friend who says ‘kill them’ whenever you talk about a minor inconvenience (”someone stole my parking space” “kill them”) so yeah, he’s definitely not the most noble boy

loves trash reality TV like the kardashians? and the real housewives

WANTED CONNECTIONS ; i totally forgot to do this for mari but it’s fine

xoxo - gossip girl : if anyone wants to gossip and talk shit with this boy, come one come all okay. This would probably be someone he’s close to unless they’re purely binded by their love of talking shit in which case hell yeah i’m down for that too.

reluctant partners : kind of specifically for a field agent i guess, but for some reason these two are always paired together? salem is always the one in your muses ear guiding them through things, probably because they work really well together, but unfortunately, they Hate each other. When it’s not a life or death situation they spend a lot of time bickering over the comm.

exes : to put it simply, salem gets around and his relationships rarely end well? so having an ex at circle just makes sense for him honestly. also tbh he is very gay, but this could have possibly been before he found that out For Sure so open to all genders

friends with benefits : self explanatory I think!

#circle: intro #this probably has loads of typos bUT #here it is #two for two now i can get on replies skjdjk

3 notes · View notes

fableweaver · 6 years

Text

Arc of the Masked Queen

Music played a lively background to the Court of Miracles. The hall was well lit and brightly decorated with streamers and flowers. It was the anniversary of Arian Drasir I coronation as High King when he over threw the Aldan rule. Lucia sat watching the performers as endless platters of food passed before her. The mood of court was merry; you’d never think that the princess and other members had died two months ago. Her transformation into Jeanne was complete, for two months now she had been Jeanne without anyone the wiser.

She had taken two beauty sigils, surprised at how they had been applied. One of the court mages, Harper, used a brand to sear the sigil into Lucia’s upper arm. The burn had hurt for a moment, but then Lucia had felt an almost euphoric sensation as the burn healed and she was granted the beauty she never had. Her features weren’t changed; it was more like they were richer and more vibrant. Her hair became luxuriant, her skin clear, and eyes a bright golden hazel.

“Do you think I can hit that oaf with a dagger from here?” Elrik asked breaking into Lucia’s thoughts. He looked at her with a wicked glint in his blue eyes, a grin on his face.

“Yes milord,” Lucia answered in a deadpan voice. She wasn’t acting the part; two months in Elrik’s bed had not been pleasant, even after she had told him she would be fragile because of the mage healing. Elrik nodded and tossed the dagger, the blade flying and just missing the poor acrobat performing. Elrik laughed as the acrobat missed a step and dropped the balls he was juggling.

“I must say you are much more accommodating,” Elrik said as he put on hand on Lucia’s thigh, squeezing. Lucia closed her eyes, trying not to wince as his fingers probed an old bruise. “Rape seems to be the medicine you needed.”

“Yes milord,” Lucia said quietly.

“Though it isn’t really rape is it?” Elrik said leaning close enough Lucia could smell the wine on his breath. “You want it like a bitch in heat don’t you?”

“Yes milord,” Lucia answered and Elrik kissed her cheek and then neck. He stopped as a new dish was set before them and he turned to eat. Lucia noticed Elrik ate a lot; he had youth’s broad shouldered build that would turn to fat when he got older. Lucia looked away from Elrik to the court, scanning the crowd.

She had learned most of the members now, the dukes and lords from Regis or other Kingdoms that gathered to drink and cavort. Lucia was only a minor piece; she still hadn’t gathered who was whose enemy and who could be an ally. She knew to trust Sherah, who they had confided the secret of Lucia’s identity and Jeanne’s mutilation to. But she had no idea what argument she might step into, whose private wars or alliances made up the court.

A familiar face warmed her heart as he stepped up at the edge of the performers. Bower was walking along the edge of the performers, stumbling like a drunk. At least Lucia hoped he was acting, she couldn’t be sure as he had a wine bottle in one hand. Elrik laughed at his antics though as he gracefully bumbled around into the performers, avoiding balls and clubs being juggled in the air. One man juggling knives threw a blade and it clipped off Bower’s funny patchwork hat.

He stopped and felt his balding head for the cap, a comically puzzled frown on his face. Lucia laughed as he pointed to the hat enjoyed. He stumbled over to it and bent to retrieve it only to fall on his face, an acrobat tripping over him and sprawling into two more acrobats. He put his hat on and stood, turning to the heap of people with a puzzled frown again. He just shrugged and took another pull from his bottle.

He made a sour face and then raised his face, spitting out a spew of fire into the air. The audience gasped and the fire faded quickly, Bower fanning his lips comically. Everyone laughed at his antics, but Drasir.

“Get off the stage fool,” Drasir growled to Bower.

“I am sorry majesty,” Bower said as he made a tipsy bow. He moved off and the jugglers and acrobats continued. Elrik however flagged him over grinning, Bower walking over to them. He made another clumsy bow, smiling at Lucia.

“I must say milady you are looking ravishing,” Bower said smoothly. “And you milord are dashing, I thank you both for your laughter.”

“You have a silver tongue for a fool,” Elrik said. “How would you like to lose it?” He slammed his dagger down on the table, Lucia knowing he was happy to have a new victim not angry at anything Bower had said.

“I’d hate to lose it milord,” Bower said nervously, or acting nervous. “Then I couldn’t tell any jokes.”

“Very well, tell me a joke,” Elrik said serious now. “If I laugh you can keep your tongue.”

“Very well,” Bower said. “What beats a Lirian whore?”

“I don’t know what?” Elrik asked fingering his dagger.

“Only her master of course,” Bower said and Elrik laughed.

“Very good fool,” Elrik said. “Another.”

Lucia was impressed by the flow of raunchy and dark jokes Bower gave then, Elrik laughing loudly at each. She even blushed at a few, which pleased Elrik even more. Elrik had a fair amount of wine already, his cheeks flushed.

“You can go off to your rooms now,” Elrik said drunkenly glaring at Lucia. “I’m not in the mood tonight, I have other arrangements.”

“Yes milord,” Lucia said. For Elrik other arrangements didn’t mean a mistress, it meant he was going to torture someone. She hoped it wouldn’t be Bower but telling by his jokes Elrik was probably going to let him live at least. She stood and left, bowing to Drasir and Cecelia as she left.

It was a relief to get out of the hot hall where court was held, and as she stepped out her two shadows followed her. Sir Bedivere of Sereaux was the third son of Count Sereaux, a wealthy Regarian noble. Lucia didn’t know where Sereaux was, or even how to spell it to find it on a map. Sir Bedivere was a holy knight of the Sect and had been assigned to protect Jeanne, swearing his loyalty to her as her champion.

The second was a Sect of Lun, Marie De Lorue. Lucia didn’t know her rank, but gathered she was another noble. She had also been assigned to Jeanne as a personal spiritual adviser; Lucia had never known a noble had so many people following them. She hadn’t been alone in months. Both the knight and Sect were perfect images of Regarians, fair skin and hair, bright blue eyes, and clothes that screamed wealth despite their occupations.

“You are not going to Elrik tonight milady?” Bedivere asked as they walked through the halls. She looked back at him, he always walked two steps behind her and it was a bit unnerving. She couldn’t be sure if he was relieved or disapproving. Marie never said a word; she was as silent as Lun.

“No Sir Bedivere he has dismissed me,” Lucia answered turning back to continue walking.

“I am sorry to hear that milady,” Bedivere said, but Lucia did not answer. Marie walked up next to her, her silence both unnerving and soothing. Her silence often seemed like she knew everything and so saw no need to speak.

Lucia ignored them both as she walked back to the women’s wing and to Jeanne’s rooms, leaving Bedivere outside with the other guards there. Marie followed her in, but only to the sitting room before she went off to the servant quarters. Lucia hurried to Jeanne’s room, locking the door behind her. Jeanne lay in bed looking less like the noble woman she had been.

Her skin was now ashen, her hair lank, and painfully thin. Bryony stood by her bed gently washing Jeanne’s face. Cicely and Viola sat by the fire playing Check looking bored. Now that Jeanne was married she didn’t need her maids of honor following her to swear on her purity. Bryony had also wanted them here to tend to Jeanne, to help keep her spirits high.

“You’re here?” Bryony said surprised.

“Elrik chose to torment someone else tonight,” Lucia answered. “How are you Jeanne?”

“The same,” Jeanne said tiredly. They had learned that the mage’s healing had been worse than just making Jeanne sterile. Urinating and menstruation were painful, her bleeding spotty and lasting weeks. It had killed her appetite, and even made it hard to move about. She was withering like a plant in winter.

“Have you eaten?” Lucia asked. “I can send for some food.”

“I am fine,” Jeanne snapped, rolling over in her bed. She didn’t like to be coddled. Lucia sighed heavily, knowing when not to push.

“Voila, can you help me undress?” Lucia asked.

“I’m not you’re servant, you’re ours,” Voila said crossly.

“Voila!” Bryony snapped. “I know you’re bored, but Lucia has taken the greatest burden. Help her get out of her gown, she can’t do it alone.”

Voila grumbled as she stood and joined Lucia behind the changing screen. Her grumbles stopped when she stripped Lucia of her gown and saw the bruises. Old and new bruises molted her skin from toe to shoulder, but Elrik had confined it to under her garments.

“Lucia…” Viola said horrified.

“I’m lucky,” Lucia said mildly. “Elrik doesn’t dare draw blood or he might lose his head and kill me accidentally. Of course that means he really thinks I’m Jeanne.”

“I’ll draw you a bath,” Viola said as she looked away, hurrying off to Jeanne’s private bath. Lucia drew a robe over herself before she stepped back out into the room, her bruises would distress Jeanne. She went to the bedside and took Jeanne’s hand in hers. On the nightstand Lucia saw a book, a big dusty tomb.

“Have you been reading milady?” Lucia asked, unable to read the spine or cover to know the title.

“Nicodemus has come by often to read to me,” Jeanne answered with a slight smile.

“Milady…” Lucia said starting to warn her, but Jeanne cut her off.

“It doesn’t matter anymore if I stay loyal,” Jeanne said fiercely. “I cannot bear children, I’m no longer in the spot light, I am no longer Jeanne Lonna Princess of the Mark!”

She drew the covers up over her head and Lucia stared at her shocked. All she had wanted was to protect Jeanne from harm, yet she had stolen Jeanne’s identity and crippled her. No wonder she hadn’t left her bed, Jeanne felt lost now without her title and status. Lucia had nothing she could say to Jeanne, the only thing that had kept her going was the knowledge she was protecting Jeanne. She stood and went to the bath, deciding to soak her troubles away.

A few days later Lucia was once again in the Queen’s solar during tea time. She spent much of her days here tittering over idle court gossip with the other women of court.

“I must say my dear you look much better after those sigils,” Cecelia said as she stirred her tea. “Much easier on the eyes.”

“Thank you, majesty,” Lucia answered. She was now sitting in Lilith’s chair, and Pricilla did not look pleased that she had taken her dead sister’s place. Cecelia didn’t seem to care as long as she had someone fawning over her. “You are looking radiant today my queen,” Lucia said, and Cecelia fluttered her eyes.

“Thank you…”

A clatter interrupted the Queen as the servant dropped a platter. The old Elmerian servant hurried to clean up and Cecelia glared at him across the room.

“Honestly!” Cecelia said disgusted. “What happened to that old servant? He was at least silent and polite.”

Lucia could say nothing as her throat suddenly closed with a lump of emotions. She had not seen Seth since the night Jeanne had been raped, and she feared he had left Cair Leone. Part of her was glad he did not have to see him, not after her nights spent with Elrik. Yet another part of her wanted to weep in his arms.

“I don’t know mother,” Pricilla answered. “He was Aunt Sherah’s servant.”

“Sherah,” Cecelia said shrilly. Sherah sighed and put her book down, walking over to the Queen’s table. “Where is that servant of yours?”

“I sent him away,” Sherah answered mildly. “I had a message I wished to send back to my late husband’s family. I could only trust Gray to carry it.”

“What message?” Cecelia asked crossly. “We needed that servant to serve tea. You had chosen a good one in that one.”

“I am sorry Cecelia, I had hoped your husband had better staff,” Sherah answered dryly. Cecelia flushed insulted and Sherah quickly bowed and left. Lucia had to wait and listen as Cecelia ranted on and on about Sherah. Pricilla nodded and agreed when she could, Lucia doing the same.

At last Cecelia decided to retire, having worn herself out over Sherah’s insult. Lucia quickly went in search of Sherah, Bedivere and Marie close behind. She wasn’t in her quarters nor in the library. Soon she was just wandering around looking for her, eventually she found her in one of the gardens. The autumn had changed the gardens, the trees already shedding leaves. The gardens were now bright oranges and reds, leaves carpeted the ground faster than the gardeners could tend to.

Sherah was sitting under an oak tree on a bench there, reading once again. Lucia went to her, but she didn’t even look up from her book.

“Nicodemus told me everything,” Sherah said and Lucia sat next to her on the bench.

“Is that why you sent Seth away?” Lucia asked.

“If you mean Gray no,” Sherah answered. “I knew what he was when I vouched for him to be a servant in the palace.”

“You planned to employ him?” Lucia asked.

“I wanted to see what he could do before I did,” Sherah answered. “He is quite good actually, bit unusual at times but he’s never been caught which is important.”

“You sent him off to kill someone,” Lucia whispered and Sherah put her finger to her lips. She glanced meaningfully at Bedivere and Marie who stood out of earshot.

“We do not know who might be listening,” Sherah said cautiously. “Yes, I did send him away for that purpose.”

“Who? Why?” Lucia asked.

“I sent him after the man that ordered my husband’s death,” Sherah answered.

“King Rue?” Lucia asked shocked.

“Of course not,” Sherah answered. “Son never ordered his brother’s death. Emperor Feng Loe ordered my husband’s death.”

“Emperor?”

“Lir has had the most kings of different houses in the history of the nine Kingdoms,” Sherah answered, sounding much like her son talking of history. “Rue is an old house, but they only grabbed the throne fifty years ago. The first family to be the kings of Lir was the Loe family. They had been called Emperors for most of the Cursed Age, until the kingdoms were united and they were changed to Kings.

“The Loe family supposedly died when they were over thrown in the early 100s, all the members massacred by the Wu family. Rumor had it a baby survived and was raised in secret out on the steeps. Feng is said to be the descendant of that family and has returned to claim his throne. He came to court, in rags and furs like any other steep man, fifteen years ago. He announced who he was and demanded King Wan to hand over his crown and throne.

“Wan laughed in his face and threw him out of the palace. Two days later my husband was killed. I heard Shu, Wan’s second son, died in a hunting accident. Son has no children; my son is now the next in line for the Lirian throne. Only I’ve heard rumors that Feng is in the Court of Whispers, I don’t know how he got in but my guess would be money. But he’s played his hand, now I know where he is and have sent my hunter after him.”

Lucia shivered at the cold tone in Sherah’s voice, like she didn’t care or cared so much she dare not feel a thing.

“Did you love him?” Lucia asked and Sherah looked at her with a raised eye brow.

“You mean Lon?” Sherah asked. “Yes and no, he was kind but cold at times, still as husbands go I felt I was lucky. He never beat me, never had a mistress or even whores. But the only thing he really loved was War; he could play that game all day long. He was always distracted by that game, a little like Nicodemus with his history.”

Lucia saw Sherah cared for her dead husband; it was a fair match but probably not love. There was no passion driving Sherah to order her husband’s death, only duty. She was justified more by the fact that Feng seemed like he could be a threat to Lir and King Son.

“Do you love him?” Sherah asked and Lucia looked at her to see her grinning at her knowingly. She felt a deep blush spread over her face and she looked at her hands.

“He’s nearly ten years old than me,” Lucia said embarrassed.

“He is still young, and women are often more mature than men,” Sherah said. “Seth is hard to read, under all that casual joking manor is a cold-blooded killer, and under that a lonely soul seeking warmth. He does everything he can to redeem life in his eyes; that is why he takes in those tortured animals. I think that was why he tried to take in you. Of course, you wouldn’t be sheltered; you are too brave for that.”

“I don’t feel very brave,” Lucia said feeling low. “I don’t feel worthy of him.”

Before she knew it, she was weeping in Sherah’s arms, the older woman stroking her hair lovingly. Lucia’s mother had only held her when she was a child; she still remembered the last time when she was four when she scrapped her knee. Her mother had held her and hummed to her just as Sherah did now. Self-loathing made Lucia cry more, like she was unworthy to be loved. She broke down completely, until she was lying in Sherah’s lap unable to cry anymore.

“Dear Lun what did he do to you,” Sherah said at last.

“I’m sorry,” Lucia said ashamed as she sat up. Sherah handed her a kerchief and she cleaned her face.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Sherah said. She seemed on the cusp of saying something comforting but then changed her mind. “Come with me.” She stood, and Lucia followed her out of the garden.

“Where are we going?” Lucia asked.

“I think since you are living your life as a noble you should get the chance to see what we actually do,” Sherah answered. Lucia didn’t know what she meant, but she followed Sherah from the gardens and through the lower halls of the palace. They passed through several great halls full of paintings, sculptures, and tapestries; useless decorations of wealth that seemed to serve no purpose.

They headed towards the marble hall where often trials and meetings of state were held. Trials were rare in the kingdoms; usually a criminal was just hanged without an inquisition or assassinated if they were a noble. When they reached the doors, Lucia saw a good many knights before the entrance, telling her that a meeting was taking place. The knights didn’t stop Sherah as she pushed open the doors and entered the hall. Bedivere joined the other knights to stand guard, but Marie entered after Sherah.

Lucia followed, staring amazed at the polished green marble that covered the floor. Blue and green marble pillars supported a ceiling of paneled wood, mage lights shedding light down on the meeting. Lines of chairs sat in a semicircle around the far end of the hall where a table sat. About half the chairs were occupied by nobles, mostly Regarian but a few Hyrians, Lirians, Xinians, and Dridians were there as well.

Lucia was used to the rich apparel of the court, so she did not stare at the men in rich silks or heavy jewelry. There were no women here, but no one objected as Sherah and her walked down the aisle and sat in the front row. Lucia looked at the head table, there sat the King and the eight other representatives of the Nine Kingdoms.

Arian only glanced at his sister before turning back to pay attention to the cleric in the center of the room. The cleric was reading a dry legislature that Lucia couldn’t understand; he was a cleric of Cael and of the Iron Order. She looked back at the table, but she only knew one of the men there, Varas Lonelove.

“Varas became the mage’s representative after the King’s Wars,” Sherah said softly, Lucia barely hearing her under the droning of the cleric. “Myrddin sent him to watch over his daughter at court, of course Ileana was sent to seduce Arian. She succeeded in seducing him, but Cecelia got pregnant first and to marry Arian. Varas was livid, but he still has a place on the king’s council.

“Next to Varas is Lindir Roth Ai, Duke of the Sleeping Woods.” The man was Aldan, and very old, his long white beard and hair thinning and skin sagging. His long ears were full of hair, and he seemed to be asleep in his chair. “Arian chose him as the Aldan representative because of his age, and the Aldan agreed because of his age. An Aldan only looks old when they are close to death; still Lindir has lived for twenty years. He’s half deaf and blind though, I doubt he even knows where he is. Arian raises his hand for him when they vote on anything.

“Next to him is Gan Wu.” The Lirian man was in his prime, dressed in rich silk robes and a silk hat. He had a thin mustache which he was stroking as he listened to the cleric rapt. “He is the brother of Duke of Ren-oza. He likes young girls, younger than you.”

“Next to him is Huros Nejem, the King of Xin’s brother.” Huros was a fat man wrapped in many silken kaftans and his head wrapped in a turban. Jewels winked from his thick fingers on many rings, a few decorating his turban and kaftans. He was nodding off, his turban bobbing on his head as his head nodded up and down.

“He is King Nejem’s bastard brother; he was castrated so he could not sire children that could threaten the Xinian throne. The Xinians have the most bastards actually; the harem of the Court of Fortunes is the largest in the Kingdoms. A male born of the harem is castrated and made a guard or in some cases an adviser or emissary to the king.”

“On the other side of the king is Runn Brago, brother to the Duke of Volga.” The Hyrian was a young man, looking bored at these proceedings. He was dressed like any other Hyrian, baggy pantaloons, a tight vest, a tunic, and blue tattoos over his limbs. His black hair was done up in a topknot, a few strands framing his long face.

“Next to him is Urtha Tussock of the Mark.” Urtha was a great meaty man, looking to be a great warrior by his large hands and many scars. He wore mail under his tunic and was glaring at Arian occasionally. He looked to her and nodded, Lucia returning his greeting wondering if he knew Jeanne. They hadn’t spoken at court and she wondered why. “I’ve been told Urtha was sent here because he is a great warrior but has a low opinion of women. Rumors go he raped his wife and several other maidens. His brother, Count Tussock, asked the King of the Mark to send him where he could have access to whores.”

“Next is Borr Ulson, Baron of Van’s Fjord.” Borr was a thinning man but tall and wiry, his blonde hair thinning and long. His beard was plaited and straight, his face sagging with deep bags under his eyes. He wore shabby furs, some looking patchy; his silver pendants tarnished, and mail rusting. “His province is so poor Tyr didn’t mind sending him and he can’t be ransomed. I heard in the King’s Wars he succumbed to battle madness. The only reason he stopped was because he ran out of men to kill. He’s never been quite right in the head since.”

“Last is Eoin Dubghal, Duke of Dubghal.” The man was only half Daunish, his blue eyes and lighter skin telling of Regarian blood, but his hair was still blood red. He was in his middling years, his eyes intelligent and bright. He wore fine Daunish wool but cut in the Regarian style tunics in fashion at court now. “His mother was sent off for a marriage to a Regarian lord before the King’s Wars. His mother was sister to the old Duke of Dubghal, who died in the wars. Arian made him the duke over his cousin, though his cousin is his steward, and made him Daun’s representative on this council.”

Lucia had seen these men at court of course, as well as the many lords that had gathered here. The relations here were very complex it seemed, not just familial but political as well.

“Over there is the court scribe,” Sherah said as she pointed to the cleric asleep with a quill and paper before him on a desk. “He isn’t needed right now since the cleric is reading an old deposition from an old law. It is regarding the role the High King has played in the past.

“The way it works here is the council meets and they go over old laws to see what is needed and what isn’t. The Iron Order serves as judicial judges and law keepers over the kingdoms, enforcing the law and working it, but never making it. That is up to this council, though only Arian has the power overall.

“Now it is interesting to note that while each kingdom has its own laws and legislature made by each king, there are laws that encompass all nine. It is these laws that the High King makes, and since Arian took the throne most of those have concerned taxes. The High Throne never taxed the other kingdoms until the Regarians took the throne.”

“Doesn’t the king need the approval of the council to make such laws?” Lucia asked.

“Yes, but as you can see he controls at least half the council,” Sherah answered. “His power is not absolute of course; Lir, Dridia, and Xin hold a fair amount of power still and can resist him on some issues. Hyria is always a wild card, Runn likes to vote as he pleases, and his king doesn’t care one way or another as long as no foreigners enter the river lands. He makes things interesting a lot of the time.”

The cleric finished reading the report and half the room came awake mumbling and rubbing their eyes. The cleric bowed to the king and took a seat by the scribe.

“Right so as stated in the law the High King can be elected absolute power in a state of emergency,” Arian said, and Lucia felt her blood go cold.

“And I say we are not in such a state yet,” Varas answered.

“The Sect is threatened, mobs run wild, and there are riots in the streets,” Arian answered.

“What streets are these, I have yet to see any riots here,” Varas answered.

“There are reports of problems in the marchlands in Nyrgard,” Borr said, his tone forced as if he had to push out each word. “I’ve heard Rhodin bands have been disappearing there.”

“Rumors?” Varas scoffed. “I understand this cult has been gaining power, but a state of emergency will only embolden them.”

“I am against it as well,” Gan said mildly. “Lir has seen very little problems in our lands, should the emergency not cover all the kingdoms?”

“Now that is a lie,” Sherah whispered, her brow furrowed. “I’ve heard the cult is strong on the steeps.”

“Same here,” Runn said. “Hyria has not even seen any members in the river lands.”

“And what of the border you share with the Mark and Nyrgard?” Arian asked annoyed.

“Those lands hardly matter,” Runn said with a shrug. “This cult is not all encompassing as Gan said; I don’t think we need to call it an emergency.”

“But should we not consider it?” Huros said looking worried. “After all many died in the wedding, and I’ve heard this cult has spread to the slaves. It could lead to another uprising among the slaves; my kingdom would crumble especially with Zar Ne Zar rampaging over the sands. A state of emergency means you will send aid to us right majesty?”

“We will seek out this cult wherever it is milord,” Arian said, but Lucia suspected he didn’t care at all about Xin other than the jewels he could get from them; he’d just as likely make a deal with Zar Ne Zar as to fight him.

“Which you can do without a state of emergency being called,” Varas argued. “Is this not all moot? It is up to the Sect to see religious matters dealt with.”

“Not when those matters threaten the stability of the kingdoms,” Arian said coolly.

“And is that not your duty to oversee not bully majesty?” Urtha asked mildly and Arian glared at him.

“Have I not put the Mark in its place Lord Urtha?” Arian said coldly.

“Careful majesty, you may start more problems than you can deal with,” Urtha answered levelly. Arian’s eyes narrowed and flickered over the room, looking for decent. His eyes widened when he saw Lucia.

“Lady Jeanne,” he said silkily, and Lucia tried not to flinch. “What do you think of this matter? You heard the recitation of the law did you not? Let us hear what you have to say.”

It was a power play; he was trying to lessen Urtha’s power by using Jeanne. He expected her to side with him and make Urtha lose face by the fact one of the Mark’s royals was now a Drasir. Her heart pounding Lucia stood and took a few steps, so she was visible to everyone. She took a deep breath, and felt a strange calm settle over her, shapes dancing in the corner of her eyes.

“I think these members of the cult are very dangerous, they threaten our way of life and our homes. They wish to destroy all the great houses this is for sure. But if we declare war in such a way we only give them the stage they wish us to dance upon. Absolute power will only hinder you in your hunt majesty, is there not another law you can use to get what you need to fight them but not declare so publicly your plans for them?”

Arian did not look pleased she had disavowed his plan, but his eyes were calculating. She had at least given him an opening to leverage power, though it would not be absolute.

“Cleric, I want you to search the laws regarding witchcraft,” Arian said, and Lucia had the wild fear he suspected her of witchery. “There were laws written in the regards of hunting witches as I recall, I’d like to hear them. We meet on this matter next week to hear his findings. Dismissed.”

Lucia jumped as he banged a gavel and the lords all stood to leave. Pockets of conversations formed as lords gathered like minnows to feed, talking over what was said. Lucia froze as Arian came up to her, too scared to even move. Then she felt Sherah’s hand on her arm, the older woman standing next to her.

“So, you brought her here Sherah,” Arian said as he crossed his arms. “Why?”

“I thought to distract her from her husband’s beatings,” Sherah said mildly.

“Strange entertainment Sherah,” Arian answered and then he looked at Lucia. “I do not like being crossed Lady Jeanne.”

“Things weren’t going your way Arian,” Sherah answered. “And absolute power would only make your head too big for your crown. She gave you the opening you needed to try something else.”

“Don’t bring her here again Sherah,” Arian said about to turn away, but stopped and looked back at Lucia. “I will talk to Elrik about your treatment.”

“No!” Lucia said, and Arian looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Majesty he will only beat me more if you talk to him.”

Arian made a face, he knew his son well.

“Perhaps if you let him do something constructive?” Sherah suggested.

“There has been an influx of prisoners we need information from,” Arian said nodding. “I need the little toad out of my way. He can go to the prison and question prisoners; that should make him a little more docile.”

“Thank you, majesty,” Lucia said genuinely relieved. Arian looked her up and down, examining her, but not leering.

“And, how are you?” he asked in a very subtle manor. He meant was she pregnant yet, but Lucia still did not know. Her bleeding had not come this month, but it could be late or just skipping.

“I don’t know yet majesty,” Lucia answered.

“I will send a mage to examine you then,” Arian answered. “I will tell you this Jeanne; I hope your child will be a little more cunning than my own children.”

It was the closest he would come to admitting he would rather name an unborn babe heir than Elrik, though Elrik was legally the heir at the moment. If he named Anton or Nicodemus heir, the power of the High Throne could shift to Dridia or Lir. Arian turned and left, Sherah taking her arm and leading her away. Marie ghosted behind them and Bedivere joined them at the door.

“You didn’t tell him the truth,” Lucia said as they walked out of the hall.

“I saw no point in doing so,” Sherah answered. They both stopped when Ileana stepped in their path, the silver on her dress chiming musically.

“Milady Sherah, Milady Jeanne,” she said nodding to them both.

“Lady Ileana, a pleasure to see you,” Sherah said with a fake smile. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I had hoped to help Lady Jeanne conceive,” Ileana answered. “Or at least to see if she is already with child.”

“Thank you but my brother has already offered to send a mage,” Sherah answered coolly. “Now if you’ll excuse us I’m afraid Jeanne is not feeling well.”

Sherah hurried her away, Lucia looking back over her shoulder to see Ileana glaring after them. Varas stepped up behind her and began speaking to her, but they turned a corner before Lucia could see more.

“Are those two seeing each other?” Lucia asked. “Varas and Ileana?”

“No, Varas’ taste runs on the other side of gender and age,” Sherah answered. “He prefers young boys.”

“How do you know all these things?” Lucia asked startled, surely that secret was very well kept.

“Spies,” Sherah answered. “The Court of Whispers in Shin-Ra is aptly named. I inherited a few spies after my husband died and put them to work here in the Court of Miracles. So, you know, I am always keeping an eye on you.”

Lucia shivered a little, seeing the similarity then between Sherah and her brother. She was not ruthless like Arian, but she was cunning and had a wit that should not be trifled with. Sherah took her leave with a kind word and a kiss, going off towards the library. Lucia left to seek some comfort of a nap before the ordeal of dinner again.

That night however as she lay in Elrik’s bed she dreamed. She hadn’t dreamed in months, since Elrik beat her almost every night she often fell into a dreamless stupor. Now as she walked through the mist she felt almost washed clean by the veil. Feeling almost light Lucia walked through the mist and past the burning tree. As she walked through the trees she saw movement and quickly hid.

Once again she saw the Elven King walking through the trees in the form of a great stag. As Lucia watched however he changed to his more human form. He turned and looked into the trees and there Lucia saw a procession walking towards him. Riding great white unicorns were his elven kin. Lucia could hardly look upon them they were so beautiful, their features noble, serine, and grand.

The king mounted a unicorn, smiling at one of the women of the group kindly. His love for his people shown on his face, like the love a father gave to his children and grandchildren. He turned and the procession started off into the woods, the unicorn’s cloven hooves soundless and leaving a trail of fresh growing flowers in their wake. Lucia sadly watched the last of them disappear into the trees, before a sharp pain woke her.

Opening her eyes she looked up at Elrik kneeling over her. She groaned as he hit her thigh again with a clenched fist.

“I said open your legs whore!” Elrik hissed between clenched teeth. Lucia complied and he took her hips in his hands and pulled her to him. Lucia kept her eyes open; staring at a point just over Elrik’s left shoulder. He didn’t like her closing her eyes when he took her. The pain was a dull throb to her now, Lucia was numb to him. Her only solace was that Elrik finished quickly. He rolled off her and went to his washroom. Lucia turned her head to see sunlight streaming through the curtains, it was already morning.

She sat up and listened to Elrik washing, waiting for her chance to do the same. She thought it strange that she had lost her virginity to such a man. She had hoped to have lost it to Seth; he had stolen her first kiss after all. And yet Seth was no different than Elrik, he had more blood on his hand and unlike Elrik he killed men personally. Though Elrik had ordered Jeanne’s death and caused Egram’s, it had been Seth who had performed the act.

All the same Lucia wished it were Seth who had just finished with her and was washing in the other room. Elrik finished and came out to dress, not even glancing at Lucia. She stood and went to the washroom; he had left it a mess. She ignored the mess and washed quickly. When she came out Elrik was gone already. She sighed as she dressed, having learned to don the heavy gowns alone. She couldn’t lace them completely, but she could perform the task well enough, so the dress would stay on.

She left Elrik’s rooms, heading for Jeanne’s. Women bedded with men at court, but they kept their own rooms, to preserve some of their own dignity and power. Of course, Jeanne was taking full advantage of this by remaining in her own rooms. The women’s quarters were in the west wing of the palace along with the queen’s solar. Bedivere wasn’t with her; even he had to sleep and was in his own rooms somewhere in the palace. Lucia was walking through the halls from Elrik’s rooms, when Cicely came running up to her.

“Milady, Voila needs your help!” Cicely said, her cheeks flushed and eyes wild. Lucia quickened her pace and Cicely followed.

“What happened?” Lucia asked, wondering if Cicely was referring to Jeanne when she said Voila.

“Just hurry,” Cicely moaned. “This way is faster.”

Lucia just followed Cicely as she went down a servant’s hall, down some stairs, and out into the gardens. She didn’t question Cicely’s choice; sometimes cutting through the gardens was faster. They passed through a barrow of rose bushes and Lucia stopped at the sight of Anton standing in the center of the barrow. Lucia leapt back as he activated a sigil on the ground, lines of power glowing as the sigil activated. Lucia just barely avoided the trap, but Cicely was captured.

“Damn, I thought I got you,” Anton muttered.

“You aren’t very original milord,” Lucia answered glad she had seen his trick before. “Let Cicely go.”

“Why should I?” Anton said. “She failed to lead you into the trap.”

Lucia looked to Cicely and saw then that a sigil was drawn lightly around her throat. Anton had commanded her to lead her away; he must have caught her when she went out on an errand for Jeanne.

“I’m sorry,” Cicely said as a tear slid down her cheek. Lucia shook her head, Cicely had betrayed a double, not Jeanne; she owed nothing to Lucia. She shook her head, unable to say anything lest she reveal the truth. Anton activated the sigil around her throat and Cicely made no noise as it began to choke her.

“Please stop!” Lucia shouted.

“Only if you submit to me,” Anton answered. Lucia knew he had sigils to make sure he would get her with child, and when she bore a mage everyone would know the truth. Lucia looked at Cicely, her eyes were bulging, her face turning blue, but she had enough strength to shake her head. Though Lucia was not Jeanne, she was to be the one to bear the heir to the throne; it could not be Anton’s.

“She is a noble of the house Sinistra!” Lucia shouted. “One of the great dukes of the Mark. You cannot just murder her! I will take this matter to the king.”

“Take it to him then,” Anton answered unconcerned. “She will still be dead.”

Cicely didn’t collapse because Anton’s sigil still held her, but her eyes had rolled back in her head. Lucia watched pained as her body shuddered and she died, her face purple and skin swollen. Anton let both sigils go and Cicely fell to the ground dead. Anton grinned as he walked over to her, Lucia tensing to flee. She felt it first, a change in the air she couldn’t explain, and Anton felt it too because he whirled around.

A sigil in the shape of a tiny sun flew out of the rose bushes and caught Anton in the shoulder, sending him flying back. He landed on the ground groaning, the sigil having done little damage other than stunning him. Lucia looked to where the projectile had come from and saw Varas just stepping out of the bushes. He looked annoyed and disgusted as he walked over to Anton.

“A real Myrddin could have drawn a counter to that before I even drew mine,” Varas said with mild rebuke. He looked up at Lucia and she flinched at his burning red eyes. He looked at her so deeply Lucia feared he could see through her into her real identity. “I am sorry milady Jeanne for my countryman’s murder of one of your handmaidens. He was wrong to have attacked you so.”

Lucia had suspected Varas behind Anton trying to seduce Jeanne, maybe he had been, but he did not seem the type to try such heavy-handed methods. And telling by how angry he was, he did not approve of this latest tact.

“I demand compensation milord Varas,” Lucia answered in her best impression of Jeanne’s high anger.

“I will send Anton away to Myr,” Varas answered. “I think it time he had some proper education in his sigils, his mother will go with him. Is that to your liking?”

“I’ve lost much in the death of my friend Lord Varas,” Lucia said. “I would like to ask for his head, but I know that will never happen. Instead, is there a sigil that you can cast that will protect a child in the womb?”

“There is,” Varas answered and stepped forward. “If I may? I can see if you have a child yet already.”

“Procced,” Lucia said, knowing she took a risk, but Varas dare not harm her after Anton had tried to. Varas drew a sigil over her belly watching the invisible powers for a moment before nodding.

“Congratulations,” he said simply, and Lucia felt her heart skip a beat. “I will cast the protection sigil after you have had time to mourn. I will send a servant to tend to her body.”

“Lord Varas,” Lucia said, and he stopped from turning away from her. “I will remember your aid well, and perhaps in the time to come we can reach an agreement of some kind.”

“I might hold you to that Lady Jeanne,” Varas said warningly.

“I hope you do Lord Varas,” Lucia answered. “I know I can trust you as long as you stand to gain something from me. I trust you more than my husband.”

“Very well,” he answered with a dangerous grin. “Go, you must mourn your loss. I will take care of things here.”

“See that her body is sent to the stables,” Lucia answered. “I will send someone to accompany her home.”

Varas nodded and Lucia walked over to where Cicely lay. She kissed her once on the forehead before heading out of the garden. She hurried back to Jeanne’s room, getting there just as she began to weep. She stumbled to Jeanne’s room, ignoring Marie who looked at her startled. She collapsed into a chair, Bryony hurrying over to her concerned.

“Was Elrik rough last night?” Bryony asked worried.

“No more than usual,” Lucia said shaking her head, her voice thick with tears. “Anton killed Cicely.”

“What?” Jeanne said from her bed. Voila gasped and tried to keep Jeanne in bed as she stood up. Lucia felt sad to see her so thin, she had once been in excellent condition, but her pain had stripped her of her muscle and strength. Lucia told the tale through her tears and her talk with Varas.

“You should not have made such a promise to such a man in my name!” Jeanne said. “You should have demanded Anton’s head.”

“His is the king’s bastard and a prince of Dridia,” Lucia said. “Arian would not take his head for a lowly Duke’s daughter from the Mark. You know this Lady Jeanne; I got what I needed to protect you.”

“You mean protect yourself,” Jeanne said hotly.

“When I bear you this child you will be safe Jeanne!” Lucia said. “You can take the beauty sigils and take your place in court again. Once there is a child to be the heir you will not need to bear anymore children.”

“Only if you bear a son,” Jeanne said.

“Then until I do you do not need to take your place again. I cannot protect you forever milady, this child is the only thing that will.”

Jeanne only looked sour; she wanted blood for the death of Cicely. Lucia felt sad she was dead, but she was practical enough to see the reality of it. Anton would not be killed and demanding his death would only mean she could not ask for some other boon lest she seem shallow.

“Voila, will you accompany her home?” Jeanne asked and Voila gasped.

“Milady I cannot leave you alone,” Voila said.

“I would go too but my duty keeps me here,” Jeanne said. “Please go, I cannot bear anything more happening to my friends.”

“Yes milady,” Voila said saddened and lowered her head. Jeanne took her hand and they went to pack Voila’s things, along with Cicely’s.

“Congratulations,” Bryony said to Lucia.

“It is not my child,” Lucia said her hand going to her belly.

“I will see you are made the child’s wet nurse,” Bryony said kindly. Lucia only stared off at nothing, not sure she wanted that or not. She could not be the child’s mother, could not risk telling it the truth. She thought of the man that had force it into her, and the man she wished had been the child’s real father; all she felt was lost.

#fairies #fantasy #series #dragoon #writing #please read

3 notes · View notes

purrcraze · 5 years

Text

Are Maine Coon Cats Good Hunters? Why This Is Important

Maine Coons are in the top three breeds of cats, beloved due to their unusual size, sweet personalities, and also hunter ability.

Are Maine Coon Cats Good Hunters? They are renowned for their hunting abilities, due to their size, ability to withstand harsh climates, and above average intelligence. They were even used for hunting mice back in the day. While they look the part, Maine Coons are not dangerous and are loving, amiable pets that just want to play.

Knowing that Maine Coons are great hunters is actually very important as it is a huge part of their character. Continue to read to learn more about that and to learn to satisfy their inner hunter.

Genetics and history play a factor

The Maine Coon´s exact origin is debatable. Raccoons, Vikings, and even Marie Antionette all have been touted as playing a part, none of which has been proven entirely correct.

It is fitting, however, that such an unusual breed would illicit strange tails.

Due to their Norwegian Cat ancestor, the Vikings legend probably hones in closer to the truth.

It is fitting to imagine these massive fur babies stalking the ships making sure rodents don’t get into the limited sources of food. What else would a Viking have by their side than these massive felines?

What we do know is they were domesticated initially to serve as barn cats. Like many cats that were tamed for this use, their instinct is to hunt and not just for food. Ever have a cat that placed their “offering” at the door or even worse at your feet?

They are showing you that they are doing their job.

Male MC’s go up to 25 lbs, while females can grow up to 18 pounds. Their paws are specially equipped for combat along with walking on the snow.

Some even have the internet beloved 6th toe, giving their feet the perfect snowshoe to skip across white fields while everyone else sinks in. They are named Maine Coons for a reason.

Meows manifest in trills and horse chirps instead of the typical wistful or boastful caterwauls in your day to day cats. It might sound cute when they are sitting at the window talking to a bird.

In fact, it is something that has been both the process of evolution and breeding to entice these little squeaking friends to come on by while your cat patiently waits to pounce.

Due to these genetic benefits, the Maine Coon is well equipped to keep your home vermin free. Just be cautious if you have smaller animals in the house.

They have been reported to be great with dogs and other breeds of cats, even ones smaller than them. It would be smart, however, not to adopt smaller animals that they instinctually see as prey or take deliberate steps to introduce your new friend to them.

Keep them active

Due to the hunting instinct, they are known for and their above average intelligence it is important to keep them engaged.

They tend to reach maturity slowly, attaining adulthood at around age 4. What this means for you is they need something to occupy their mind and keep them active.

When you do get toys for this breed to make sure to go for sturdy. Due to their size, some toys might be inadequate when they really get going. (If you want to get a toy for your Maine Coon cat, have a look at this article and learn about the 3 best toys for Maine Coons.)

They will tear up the stick and feather type toys with a snap and a tug. Making you wonder why you wasted your money in the first place.

Check the weight amount that your new cat tower can hold. Otherwise, it will fall to the ground with their bounding leaps. Even the rope that is used to wrap the poles of the tower is no match for their claws. (Of course, I also have written an article on the 3 best cat trees for Maine Coon cats – read it here!)

Another activity that you can try with your Maine Coon is tug of war or playing fetch.

They are an excellent cat for walking, a harness being the better choice for them instead of the standard collar and lease. You can easily teach your Maine Coon to walk on a leash – read our guide on that here!

A good harness for your Maine Coon is crucial, as your Maine Coon could escape if you buy a harness that doesn´t fit properly or is of low quality. These harnesses will do that job perfectly!

Not only that with a lack of fear for water you can finally get that water fountain bowl that has been in your cart forever. More on their love for water here.

If this reminds you of a dog then you are correct, a phrase most commonly associated with them is “the dogs of the cat world.”

Just a tip from an owner of a shocking large cat when playing fetch, be careful where you throw the toy.

They will bound over furniture, other animals, or even you if you are in the way to get their prize. I like to let my cat get the scent of the toy, as you would for a dog, then throw it all over the house to see if they can sniff it out.

Just like with humans there is nothing worse than an active mind that doesn’t have action. Expect a mischievous cat that likes to play and have fun.

If your nerves expect a docile well-behaved kitty that just wants to sit in your lap, you might be disappointed.

Due to their hunter nature, it is advisable to keep them inside as much as possible, domesticated cats are responsible for wiping out entire species of birds and mice.

Not their fault, this is what humans have trained them to do for centuries.

Are they dangerous?

Not unless you are a mouse or a bird. Due to the Maine Coon’s size and thick fur, they do look fearsome, like wild cats of old.

However, listen to your mother when she said don’t judge a book by its cover. Their loyalty, intelligence, and playfulness will prove to you their moniker as the “gentle giant.”

They are renowned for their loyalty to their humans. When you arrive home, they will probably be waiting for you at the door.

As mentioned before a Maine Cat’s personality matches more of a dog than what you would expect from a feline. Also read: Maine Coon Personality – 15 Things you must know!

The Maine Coon’s dedication to family and ease with children, dogs, and other cats make them the perfect family pet. They might show caution towards strangers but are not known to attack.

At the most, they will skitter away and then slowly come back to check out the new human that has come into their domain.

While researching this topic I came upon YouTube videos that depict them attacking their owners. As you watch these videos, you can see the person shoving things in their cat’s face, and the cat gives them ample warnings to please don’t do that.

Treating any animal as a punchline is showing that you have no respect for their well-being and that isn’t funny. As any cat servant knows what a cat ultimately wants is respect and acceptance.

Disrespect those two sentiments, and they will let you know about it.

A qualification to even be considered a Maine Coon is friendliness and amiability. People who have never had a cat before, especially a Maine Coon, have assumptions about them due to their appearance.

Really they just want things their way and love. When they want pets, they will come to you, and if they want to be left alone, they will let you know. Simple as that. Respect that and care for them then you will have a loyal companion for years.

If they are showing aggression

Like a lot of cat breeds, there could be many reasons why your Maine Coon is showing aggression since it is not inherent in their kind. There are a few things to check first before you start to hyperventilate.

If you are the owner of your cat for a while and know that this is a change in temperament first check any changes to their surroundings.

Have you moved?

Is there a new cat in the house or their territory?

Have you made a change in the house?

Changes, even small ones, cause stress to a cat’s sensitive nature. Reassure them that everything is ok, by pets, cuddles, and playing. If they need some time alone, let them have it so they can go through the process of adjusting.

They will spring back to their usual selves given time. When bringing a new cat into your home, you will have to deal with their process of accustoming themselves to each other.

If there haven’t been any changes in their environment, then there might be something medically wrong. A trip to the vet may be necessary to make sure your kitty is in its best health and make you stop worrying.

If you want to learn more about aggression in Maine Coons, read this article!