Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

Stubborn. Wise perhaps. Cautious at the least. Caution was alien to him as well, rarely needed in his line of work, save for when he stood beside his queen. Caution was perhaps the wrong word for his behaviour. He did not exhibit caution so much as a strange melding between unholy terror and perfect love for her. One could not love a winter hurricane, but if such was possible, it might be something like trying to love the Queen of Air and Darkness. The subtle move, the looking away as she spoke, a tell perhaps. He had limited experience with this particular mortal, this betrothed of his, and he must not assume that all mortals were the same, not at this sclae of concern. The stakes were to high. Not a lie, such would likely stick at the back of his hearing, but neither the truth. A moment of examination, and in that second she seemed to almost shine to his eyes. Such was like the people of her bloodline, never lying, neither telling the whole truth. His breath quickening, his eyes actually widening a moment, amost forgetting himself, almost feeling home. She was young, too young to truly match his experience, but mayhaps her family had groomed her with some skills that might make her a foe worth trying to match wits with? At least one that could prove amusing to his senses. He considered throwing an enchantment at her, knowing that his own people were more susceptable to their magics, it being tied to their blood, it might well take hold on her. But if it failed, it might tip his hand, and there might be...more permanent solutions available to them. Nothing he was prepared to risk. The moment passed, and he let it go. As she walked from the room, he tracked her motions, knowing that despite her mortality, she still held enough grace to draw the eye of one such as him. Seh was not simply a princess, not simply something that might be used in a bargaining session between nations. She was a strategic asset, a weapon made flesh that wars could be fought over. Respect her she'd said. Mayhaps such woudl not be as onerous a task as he had thought. Words from outside the room, heated ones, ones that brought to mind something worrisome, nearly panic inducing. No, not panic. Fear. Knowledge. He cleared his mind, straining his senses, summoning up what he could and pushing at his bonds. His hearing sharpened to nearly what he had been used to without the bonds, and there was still the faintest tinge of old, now rotted magics in the air. Sidhe magic. It was no surprise that something might linger, since within their home realms, magic was as common as air. Unconcious workings to amplify a voice, to remove any trace of the environmental noise from the speech, to make each word seem just a touch sweeter. All things currently denied him. He snapped into motion, the movement sudden, almost jerky in it's execution, but he was in motion towards the door. He knew who would be there, knew it by the words, by the rotted magic that would no longer find home in the ears and minds of mortals, magic that no longer came when called, the kind that simply was . He eased the door open, seeing what was present. He put on a look of surprise, letting his hearing fade away. Ah, Dirine. My apologies, Your Highness Queen Dirine. 'tis agreeable to see you once more, though you seem to be restraining my bethrothed! He turned his golden, feline gaze onto the hand at her wrist. Surely, while a mother's prerogative, such is not needed amongst such... civilized company. Are we not all currently bound by the same rules, the same fate? He sounded oh so very calm, so very reasonable, as much as he could. He fought to restrain a grin, knowing it would undermine his intent, but it was a game now! A game to be played, and from what he overheard, there might even be more players yet to partake in the games. It could be glorious. And it could be terrible. The two were not mutually exclusive.