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Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

A Sidhe had been captured. Moira N hAllurin brooded on the fact, unable to concentrate on her book. The messenger had arrived just a few hours ago with the news. With the answers to their prayers. Her father seemed relieved by news, but she didnt share his optimism. It was the height of foolishness. As if something so simple could solve their dilemma. Espium and Ocrad hovered about like vultures, demanding she choose her husband. Demanding that she choose which would be her enemy. Choosing either one would have been perilous. Choosing neither would be disastrous. Oh sure, it maintained the delicate balance of power between the three countries in the lands of Eogan, but it also left Kelraina without an ally, surrounded by enemies. It didnt matter, there was but one path. Forward, always forward. If she looked back, she would be lost. If she showed the slightest hint of doubt, Kelraina would be swarmed with enemies. She didnt choose a Sidhe to be her husband out of fear. Ocrad and Espium had to believe she choose a Sidhe to be her husband because neither were good enough, and neither were enough of a threat for her to care about the consequences. Your Highness? The words cut through the page shed already reread three times now. Whatever it had said was lost as she closed the book. It had been a lousy distraction from the thoughts that swirled in her mind. She glanced up at the servant, eyes like honey demanding the news she already knew was coming. The woman brushed limp hair behind her ear and turned her gaze to the ground, The king summons you, to meet your betrothed. Moira rose without words, standing a head above the servant, her tall, lithe figure a gift from the Sidhe. From her mother, an exile, claimed for her fathers bride just as her husband had been claimed for her. Silk whispered over skin as she moved through the halls, draped in a moss green gown with golden accents. The verdant colors favored her earthy complexion. Her to be husband was on his knees before the court, bound under the fine weight of cold iron. Moira made her way to the front of him, to look into his eyes. He seemed to move seamlessly from beautiful to hideous as light and shadow cast upon his features, and the only constant was his hauntingly inhuman grace and the look of contempt in his eyes. Not quite the look she wanted to see in her betrothed. He issuitable. She decreed. Litotes of the highest order, but, much like the conflict between Kelraina Espium and Ocrad, the perception of strength was what mattered. What is your name?
Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

Moiras icy composure didnt melt as Etarlm turned his attention towards her, even if his voice carried a musical quality to it. Alluring, and dangerous, drawing her into a lull, to drop her guard. Where was the defiance, the struggle from just a little while ago? She knew from living with a Sidhe mother, that the fair folk swung wildly from one emotional extreme to the other. Still, his sudden civility hadnt fooled her. With his power sealed away, he was now dependent on her own good graces to regain them. It was nothing more than a ploy. Still, he was to be husband. Even if his courtesy were insincere now, they might as well be cordial with one another. If her parents marriage were a sign, his resentment would fade in time, and hed become her strongest supporter. Moira N hAllurin. She moved to offer her hand, before stopping short, remembering that he physically restrained, on top of being bound by cold iron charms that restricted his power. She turned towards Hargrim, and motioned with her head. Please remove my betrotheds bondage. Its clear he understands the situation, and that his best option is to accept this outcome, instead of resisting. Not that she believed the words for a second, but she was curious to see how little he thought of her. Let him reveal his plan to escape his captivity early, and shed be better equipped to counter him. As Hargrim unlocked his shackles, she offered Etarlm a smile.
Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

He cocked his head slightly as the name. It had a fine ring to it, the feel of age within the syllables. The words were justa touch off to his ears, the accentation and pronounciation different than the last time he'd heard it from mortal lips, but that had been quite some time. It was only natural that language must change, just as the mortal people that spoke it did. He wondered if there were any that still spoke the pure tongue, the words the Sidhe had passed down to these people in time unremembered, except amongst the eldest of his own kind. He honestly doubted it, though the more he thought on it, the more sense it made that they might just, given the long line of unbroken Sidhe brides this land had enjoyed. Each of them would have spoken it, and likely passed it on to their children. Perhaps there were small comforts to be found here after all. As she had approached him, he had been prepared ot voice some kind of coy comment about accepting her hand before she stopped short, instructing him to be released. The charms would sap his very being, keep them contained, so there was little risk of him performing any of the inhuman feats that his kind were known for, like being able to charge past the princess, taking her throat out with his hand while advancing to slay the king before anyone had so much as seen him start to move. That thought entertained him for a half second, an eternity in and of itself if he allowed it. But he had to focus now, keep his mind on target, which was harder to do with the charms. Still, Hargrim moved to comply witht he orders. The shackles came free, and Etarlm stood. You are sure of this milady? He is unlike the others brought to this court, and may prove a danger to you. The mercenary cautioned. Etarlm smiled back at him. Come now. I am bound by charm and by their power i can work no evil beyond annoyance! No one among my people could remove such charms, so what risk would I pose to those who have...graciously invited me into their home and family? His words did have a dry, sardonic side to them, choosing his phrasing to reflect that it would be perfectly natural to harbour some ill will, but also that there was little purpose to such, given the circumstances that he was presented with.
Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

Moira maintained composure, not missing the subtle threat in Etarlms words. So much trust was placed in those charms, holding back such frightening power. If Hargrim commented upon her betrothed power, it must be something fearsome. Still, there was no path but forward. I do hope you are more comfortable now. And speaking of comfort, you shall be provided the princes accommodations, as befitting your status. At least until we are wed, and share a room. We shall retire there to take our meal and discuss our future together, she decided, not waiting for his opinion or input. Project strength, and authority will follow. Still, leading him through the castle to his room was strangle intimate. She was hardly a blushing bride, fantasizing about the wedding bed with nave romantic visions in her mind. Perhaps her betrothed was far more handsome than she would have hoped, but she wouldnt also herself to swoon like some weak minded little prat. She was to be queen. Ruler of her people, not a mere broodmare for the next generation of heirs. Of course, accounts shed read in books detailed encounters with fae, especially those of an intimate nature. Described as devastatingly pleasurable, a curse in bliss that no mortal man could live up to. Not that shed have anything to compare her husbands touch to, not as she saved herself for marriage as was expected. The room was exquisite by mortal standards. After all, It was used by visiting princes and dukes, second in the castle only to the kings bedroom. A large bed dominated the space, with silken sheets and softened furs for blankets, atop a goose feather mattress on a mahogany frame. Matching mahogany furniture filled the room, with an ample desk and chair against one wall, and fine dining table with seating for four on the other side of the room. I do want you to be comfortable here. I understand this transition is difficult, but I would make it as easy on you as possible. Every Sidhe bride has found her place here eventually, and I dont think it needs to be different just because you will be my groom. Now, what shall I have them send up to eat? Is there any mortal food you enjoy?
Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

Pheasant? Moira considered, before nodding, That can be arranged. She offered a smile, a sincere smile. But he looked past her. Through her. Your interest in my comfort is...amusing. Given circumstances are as they stand. Given that you wrap my body and soul in the Bane. Perhaps someday it wont have to be this way, she offered, looking away, not entirely sure how honest she was being. Once you accept your fate and position beside me. You dont have to like me. Just respect me. She left the room, intending to instruct the servants on the meal, and how they would interact with her betrothed, but had not expected to see her mother. Certainly, hadnt expected to see dread in her eyes. You must release him. The fear in her mother's eyes was new and disconcerting. She hadn't known that her mother was capable of such emotions before today. Caught off guard, Moira could merely shake her head for several long moments. I cannot. In choosing him, I have rejected both Ocrad and Espium. Neither would have me now, not as an equal. Only through conquest, and subjugation. He is not an exile. He was consort to the queen of air and darkness. Then he will know how to fulfill his duty towards me. Her mothers grasp was like taloned on her wrist, reminding her just how much strength she still possessed, at this age and after so many years of being muted by her own charms. He is too powerful to hold for long The charms will hold him for as long as I need. And perhaps I could learn to trust him in time. He would be a powerful ally if I could trust him. If I gave him a reason to be as invested in Kelrania as I am. Release him tonight, and perhaps your fate wont be so bad. His memory spans your library by sevenfold, and he will remember every last slight. He would collect offense and insult, harvest every affront and transform it into a lovely curse that will leave you praying for death that will not come. Moira swallowed. Long ignored instincts screamed for her to listen to her mothers words and warnings, residual memory carried by the generations of diluted fae blood in her veins. Instead, she shook her head. It is done. The charms will hold. The charms will hold.
Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

Moira bristled as her betrothed interceded upon the conversation she had with her mother. Knowledge was power, and for him to possess the knowledge that she was so desperate in her situation was for him to have power over her. Her mother had to know this, and still, she so carelessly spoke of such things where he might hear. No, not carelessly. Purposely. Her mother planned this, knowing everything, knowing Etarlm were right there, knowing he could hear, and could gain an upper hand. She purposely put her own daughter in danger, so she would have to heed her advice. Her mother was shrewd, too shrewd to make senseless mistake, too experienced from a generation of living as an exile, and a lifetime among the fae, to make a simple miscalculation. She might try to force Moiras hand, but she did underestimate her daughters determination. More than that, however, Moira watched the interactions between her mother and her betrothed. At his comment, her mother released her grasp and smiled, a strange look that didnt manage to hold back the fear she had just revealed to Moira. A nervous grin, showing too much bravado. Bound by the same rules, perhaps, but the hardly the same fate. It is known that such things are hardly written in stone, but changing and flowing, like a stream or a mighty river. Suddenly it was a question of whether she could trust her own mother alone with Etarlm. She had no power over his charms, no more than over her own, but perhaps she believed she could gain his favor, somehow? To what end? If you dont mind, Mother, I was going to enjoy my first meal with my betrothed. I imagine we have much to discuss, Moira said, her suggesting clear in her explanations. Dirine glanced at her once more, another silent warning before smiling big and resting her hand on Moiras shoulders. But of course, dear. Allow me to make all the arrangements for you. I think you will find my experience beneficial in this regard. After all, I am not so far removed from the courts that I have forgotten everything. There was a warning couched in those words, underscoring the warning shed already given Moira, unconcerned about the position it would put Kelrania in. Without a better idea, Moira nodded, and watched her mother leave. Perhaps there was soemthign she could gain from this encounter, to make up for everything shed already lost. With an embarrassed smile, she turned back to her betrothed. I apologize for the way my mother barged in on us like this. Do you think fae parents are much different from human parents, in they way they care for their children?
Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

Etarlm stayed quiet, lettign hte tiny drama play out before him. It was a fascinating thing to see, the blood ofht e Sidhe mingle with man to see what might come of it. He fought the urge to speak in the highest tongue of his people, the language reserved for court functions alone, the tongue that had been known to mesmerize with it's very sound, just to see if an Exile could still muster the memory to do it. But as he started to try adn say the words, they died on his tongue. Even the sounds apparently had their cost, required some affinitry for the magic of his people. Perhaps that was why mortals had never been abelt o master it, they lacked the very ability to make such a thing happen. These poor blighted mortals. And the insult of being brought to their level rankled at his mind once more. As Moira spoke to him once more as her mother departed, he kenw that his attention was fully required, though such was not so great a burden as it had been merely moments ago. Interest in her had kindled, an ember of curiosity, perhaps a sliver of respect that might burn within him. With proper action, she might kindle it into something mighty. Or she might kindle it into a raging inferno that might claim her life and sanity. Who knew? It is...difficult to say. Some of my kind find great joy and purpose in the caring for our children. Others care nothing for them, and cast them aside to fend for themselves, some even seek to exile them, threatened by a potnetial rival. Etarlm admit to her. For humans, at least among royalty, children seem far more important to the well being of a kingdom, and thusly more well cared for. I assume. He clarified as they approached the table. On a flight of whimsy, and becasue there was that level of curiosity attributed to her, he pulled the chair away from the table, following what he assumed was still considered to be a polite gesture. Once he had completed the gesture, he moved to his own seat, not wishing to strain his so very limited powers by attempting anything on her just yet. More time. Always more time needed. Does your mother ever...speak of her time before her Exile? The events leading up to such? He asked, honestly not sure how much might have been shared, how much Moira knew about the kind of life her mother had led before her forced departure.
Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

Moira nodded in contemplative silence as he spoke of children. It seemed he had an understanding of his role towards her. Which would he become? The father who loved and doting on his children? Or a distant figure who saw them as threats and rivals? The act he put on now, pulling out her chair Does your mother ever...speak of her time before her Exile? The events leading up to such? No she admitted, suddenly feeling ashamed she never thought to ask. That her mother was an Exile was a foregone conclusion, the how and the why never really all that important or pertinent. Now, though? A matter of the utmost importance. Especially since her mother suggested he wasnt the same as her. Not an Exile, and that made him dangerous. I supposed I imagined it would be difficult to discuss, and never broached the subject. Any further questions about her mother were interrupted by a knock at the door and followed by servants bringing in their food. Delicately seasoned pheasant, as he had asked, with toasted crackers and aged cheese. Finger foods, and wine. Moira didnt want to be drunk, not as she was still sussing out her newly betrothed, but not drinking any wine would have out of the question. So, she poured herself half a glass, savoring each sip, and served herself dinner. Hunger had been a distant concern until the scent of food hit her nose, and now she was ravenous. She hadnt eaten since getting the news about her betrothed and now it had caught up with her. We will likely be married by tomorrow evening, so this is likely our only chance to get to know each other before then, She expected, managing to flash him a shy smile. Once more images of conceiving children and sharing a bed flash through her mind. Is there anything you wish to know about your wife to be? Brushing back her hair, she held his gaze, both to welcome his questions and to assert her dominance. A fae and a man, many would consider him her superior, but she refused to accept that notion. Right now she held power over him, and she was loathed to relinquish it.
Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

Her betrothed was asking all the right questions, and it unnerved Moira. How quickly had he picked out her weakness, and she was no closer to knowing his, beyond the charms that kept him bound. Perhaps honesty was called for here. Both of the neighboring countries wanted to wed me, so they may strengthen their position. Of course, marrying one would enrage the other, and there was no guarantee that my people wouldnt be the ones to pay the price. Right now, everything rests in a precarious balance, and any hope for peace rests in showing neither country preferential treatment. Her voice was steady, betraying the worries that lay under the surface. Perception was reality, she told herself. Project strength, and you will be strong. I would hope that you will come to rule Kelraina beside me. The reason you are a good match for me is the same reason you are bound so tightly by the charms. You are an ancient, and powerful being, and until I can trust you, I cannot risk releasing your bondage. By then, dinner was done and exhaustion was kicking in. Still, there was so much to do to prepare for the wedding tomorrow, and even thoughts felt heavy. Moira stood, collecting their plates and silverware, taking a chance in caressing his fingers. Long and elegant, they spoke to wisdom and experience she couldnt begin to understand. Her mothers warning came back, and she this was her last opportunity to heed her counsel. Sighing, she pushed the fears away. Tomorrow, Etarlm would be her husband, and nothing could change that now. Until tomorrow, then, she decided, offering him a smile, warmth. The charms would hold, and he was powerless before her will. The charms would hold, and hopefully, someday, they would no longer need to.
Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

A delicate balance in which to walk. And I imagine that you would also be faced with further issues should you have chosen one of your neighbours, such as a more strit limiting on your own ability to govern. Leaving your home with no heir or way t continue short of surrender to your new husband. A poor end to a nation with as such history as you possess. He observed. He had the moment of intrigue. There were many levels to the situation here, and calling it a delicate balance was an understatement. The survival of the nation was balanced on a razors edge, and poor tidings were coming for them if there was not some way to placate the anger of their neighbours. His mind tried ot race for answers, solutions, offerings he could leave, but he found himself slower than he was used to. The charms again. Restraining him in more ways than he could imagine. Without conscious effort, his mind ran slower than normal, perhaps as fast as an intelligent mortal, but not fast enough to do what he sought. He drew in his power, once more straining the bonds of the charms, pushing at them, trying to prepare a minor working for himself when she did something he hadn't anticipated. She touched him. Hand on his fingers, the very notion actually startled him. The power he'd been gathering fled out of him, the trickle touching her hand, setting her nerves atingle, a sensation faint pleasure seeping into her from it. Not what he had intended, but perhaps not such a poor result of his powers. He did no comment on the moment, letting it hang that perhaps his mere touch could deliver such a hing to her. He saw no reason to relieve her of such a notion, and being honest, it was no less than truth should he have command of even a fraction more of his power. And that left him an idea. If I may hae but a single moment more? He asked standing up from his seat. I offer you honesty now. The charms are loathsome to me in more ways than you can conceive, but I understand the caution you hold with them. A wedding is more than a simple ceremony for my kind, it binds our very natures. We can speak no falsehoods. Not even now, bound, can I do so to you. Once the wedding has placed it's onus upon me, consider, perhaps, as a wedding gift to your husband, the removal of a single charm? Allow me enough of my power to be...enough of my self that I might offer you proper aid in all things that you require. He summoned up his power once more, straining the charms even more than before, his mind knowing the way to this particular trick simply enough, letting him summon a more efficient pattern than normal. I assure you it will be... He let his fingers so very lightly brush her cheek, releasing the power into her. So close to her mind, it would be more intense as well because of such. A ripple of pleasure was all he sought for her, a single instant, nothing to linger. ...worth you while betrothed. He smiled as he finished the phrase.