airyannadahlia

Written in collaboration with scarluxia

The court, such as it was, consisted of soldiers and aged ex-soldiers in service to the King. Some were exceptions.

Many of those in the castle had, for a price experienced their general intimately before she became queen. Thus it was an open secret amongst the court that she was unable to bear children. This fact was not known to the general populace.

Among the essential members of the court was the Crown’s secretary, Wren Fairre, Lady of Letters. Lady Wren bore a remarkable resemblance to the Queen and it had indeed been Her Grace who had lobbied for Wren’s appointment within the castle. She had saved Wren from having to prove herself as a soldier or risk becoming a blood slave to the vampires among the soldiers.

At the time, Wren had wondered why the General had elected to show her such mercy. The reason came to light soon enough. Both Wren and General Serena had been involved with a vampire before they’d found themselves in this strange land. Serena had been bonded to him, Wren engaged. Wren had gotten lost in the forest playing chase with him; Serena had been whisked here by the captain of the guard and introduced personally to the King. At first, Wren had thought Serena had spared her out of sympathy for their close resemblance. Then she’d thought Serena had misunderstood her relationship with their vampire and, assuming Wren was also bonded to him, thought to spare other vampires from a painful death should they attempt to feed from Wren.

No. Wren eventually learned that Serena had no such magnanimous intentions. She meant to make Wren appear indispensable to the King so that, should she try to leave, or should anyone make a rescue attempt, King Romain would not let her leave. Serena was deeply and terrifyingly envious of the relationship between Wren and the vampire they nominally shared. Ironically, he 𝒽𝒶𝒹 mounted a rescue attempt… for Serena. According to Lachlan, who had been captain of the Kingsguard at the time, who had been Serena’s best friend in the castle and borne witness to the event in question, Serena had been overjoyed that the man she’d still seen as her mate had finally come to find her. Assuming he must be starving, she’d attempted to feed him and explain that she’d remained fully faithful to him… only for him to disappear like so much mist.

Lachlan had opined it was a good thing the other vampire hadn’t seen Wren here; her, he assumed, the rake would have rescued. She had something Serena lacked, something made her far more attractive to that man in particular.

Serena had been devastated, but with her grief and rage came an exponential increase in power. The price was control over that power, until Lachlan had helped her through it. Soon enough, when she and her power had gained an acceptable measure of stability, Romain had fallen in love with her and pursued her hand in marriage.

There had been another in the running for the role of queen, once. Another foreigner, from a completely different culture. She’d tried to manage Romain so transparently, speaking to him with a sense of authority to which she categorically wasn’t entitled. Lachlan’s younger brother, a naïve romantic, had befriended her and coaxed Lachlan into coaching her to become someone the King could tolerate. She had refused the brothers’ advice and, in so doing, found herself incompatible with both the king and the role itself of queen. She hadn’t angered him enough to exile her, but she had been dismissed from the castle.

Her saving grace would have been her ability to bear more princesses and perhaps princes. Romain had a daughter who was nearly of marriage age. More children meant more ability to broker treaties. Yet she had refused, out of a notion that the King should fuck her out of love and not just because more children would be politically practical. There were rumours she’d successfully seduced him after a party he’d allowed her to throw, but if she had, and had come down pregnant as a result, the child would be, officially, a bastard.

Thus General Serena, who was both useful to the King and didn’t try to overplay her hand, had been promoted to Queen. Legally, she was now Serena Bishop, a sole and separate identity from the one she’d had in her home country. It was said that her very soul had split in two the day of the rescue-that-never-was. One half, pacified with the idea that 𝒽𝑒 had come in the first place, had returned through a portal and attempted to salvage the delusion of a relationship. The other half had remained here.

The American half, Sebastian, was fortuitously wed to the angel Lucifer, who had dissolved the bond between Serena and the rake; Sebastian remained bonded and would eventually suffer for it. With Lucifer’s help, a new bond was established, but more on that later.

Lachlan’s elder brother, Alexios, had once had a Singer of his own. He’d charmed her into falling in love with him, then treated her carelessly. Lachlan had become deeply enamoured with Seraphina, had been her man on the side when Lex was neglecting her, which was often. A marriage match between Lex and Seraphina would be financially advantageous for Lex, so he proposed, and she accepted. She accepted the position of Lady of Letters to be close… to Lex or Lachlan, it was unclear. The day of the wedding, something happened to the bride, putting her in a coma. Alexios pledged innocence, but Lachlan held him responsible for not preventing her injury. A bitter enmity grew between those two brothers.

Serena was another Singer who’d been neglected by her vampire, who’d bonded to her to prevent any other vampire from having her. Lachlan had recognized her plight instantly, had made her his roommate in the castle, had grown to long for her yet never touched her.

Wren was the new Lady of Letters. She and Serena looked much alike; Lachlan was protective of her, but showed no attraction to her. He had, however, warned Lex to stay the hell away from her.

Lex, Romain, and the vampire who’d left Serena and—unknowingly—Wren here shared some physical characteristics. All three were black of hair and blue of eye. All three favoured black and red clothing. Beyond their looks, all three maintained standoffish attitudes yet could fly into a rage at any moment.

Whether Seraphina had been attracted to Romain was unknown. Serena had only shown attraction to her ex and to Romain after they’d shown interest in her, but she’d slapped Lex and thrown a drink in his face when he’d tried to talk to her. Wren kept it to herself, but she was attracted to all three.

For many reasons, it was kismet that Wren should happen to be in a position to become Handmaid to Serena. Should Wren come down pregnant, she and Serena both would be sequestered to prevent the news from reaching anywhere Romain did not wish it to. And… if Wren happened to have an affair with Lex or Serena or both, Romain would be happy to legitimise a child from those unions as well. Wren could even sleep with Declan if she so desired, just not Lachlan.

His situation merits delving into. Powerful, passionate, and dedicated, Lachlan fought for his liege, right or wrong. Many suspected such was his devotion that Lachlan had romantic feelings for the King. He’d surely chafed at the girl Romain had been seeing before Serena, though Lachlan maintained it was simply a clash in personalities, and he 𝒽𝒶𝒹 tried to get along with her, if only for Romain and Declan’s sake. Lachlan saw himself as a dutiful soldier and good friend. He was unmistakably attracted to Romain, but as Lex eventually pointed out to him, it was far different from the crush Lachlan maintained on Serena. Lex had taunted him with the revelation that Romain was, in fact, Lachlan’s Singer. He’d gone behind Lachlan’s back to tell Romain, suggested Romain test his captain. For vampires in the Vylian army were forbidden from feeding on elf blood, owing to the King’s elfin heritage.

Regardless of whether Lachlan had sensed the trap, he hadn’t taken the bait that Romain had offered… so persuasively… so 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓁𝓎. He’d even offered for Lachlan to feed the way he normally fed from male thralls. Lachlan had stalwartly maintained that if Romain wished for Lachlan to feed from, and especially to bed him, Lachlan could no longer, upon his honour, serve in the Kingsguard. That day, Romain had allowed Lachlan to decline.

Lucifer had dissolved the bond between Serena and her vampire. In its place, Lucifer forged a new bond between Romain, Lachlan, Serena, and—on Serena’s insistence—himself. He’d woven a curse into the bond: If Romain turned against Serena, every demon she’d won to his side would turn against 𝒽𝒾𝓂. Luci had confided this to Lachlan, but to this day, neither Romain nor Serena is aware of it.

Romain could bed anyone he chooses. He chooses Serena, Lachlan, and Wren. Shortly after bonding, Romain ordered Lachlan to release his human blood slaves, which the vampire was happy to do. Now Lachlan feeds exclusively from Romain and Serena… the traditional way. He officially removed himself from the Kingsguard, but unofficially, he’d do anything to protect his King and Queen regardless. Lachlan sleeps 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 with Romain and Serena.

Wren, as we’ve mentioned, is welcome to sleep with Romain, Alexios, and Serena. She and the Queen have a volatile friendship. Unlike in The Handmaid’s Tale, which indeed inspired her role, Wren will not be punished for sleeping with or spending time with Romain without Serena, and she retains her own name and identity. That being said, the three of them frequently have threesomes. They also all sleep beside each other in the same bed most nights. If she and Serena had a fight earlier that day, she sometimes went and cozied up to Lex instead. Lex flirted with Wren to annoy Lachlan. Lachlan had warned them both to stay away from each other. Wren ignored him. Lex went out of his way to seduce her. Romain, as we’ve said, stated his intention to legitimise Alexios’s and Wren’s offspring, should it come to be. None of this improved Serena’s vitriolic disposition towards Wren. Nor did Romain’s assertion that they were 𝒷𝑜𝓉𝒽 useful and important.

“Would you rather I’d married Wren?” he asked once.

Without thinking, Serena had slapped him as hard as she could. “I’LL FUCKING KILL HER!” she yelled. “Then who will you replace me with?”

Romain hit her back. They fought like teenagers who’d just insulted each other’s others, until Wren walked in and asked what was—

She got a vase thrown at her head and wisely fled the room.

Romain, who had been physically training and honing his musculature all his life, then wrestled to the ground Serena, who’d been a cheerleader for a mere ten years, more than ten years 𝒶𝑔𝑜.

“You 𝒻𝑜𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓈𝒽 lunatic,” he growled as she struggled against his hold. “She can do 𝑜𝓃𝑒 thing you can’t. I’m only going to say this once: I married for love, not procreation. You’re my everything. She’s just a high-ranking concubine, why do you think I don’t care about her and Lex? I want you to think about that next time you want to raise a hand to me for getting fed up with your baseless insecurity.”

Serena had stopped struggling halfway through his tirade. Now she stared at him in abject bewilderment, trying to reconcile the man he was with the man she’d mistaken him for.

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓇. 𝐵𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝑒𝓎𝑒. 𝒞𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒽𝒾𝓂𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓂𝓁𝓎; 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓋𝒾𝒸𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉. 𝐵𝑒𝓌𝒶𝓇𝑒.

𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Doubtless noticing the confusion in Serena’s eyes, Romain rolled his own and muttered an exasperated curse. 𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝒷𝒶𝓈𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓁𝓁.

From that day on, Serena treated Wren a bit more gently, or at least, less violently. Wren had objected many times that she wasn’t out to steal anything from Serena, especially not the attention of their sovereign. It helped that Romain didn’t love Wren, and that Lachlan wasn’t attracted to her at all. Whether Alexios was truly interested in either girl remained to be seen. He’d flirted with them both and bedded Wren regularly to get under Lachlan’s skin.

Yet Lex was a pimp who had his pick of girls. He ran a brothel in [a port town], employing mostly women with the occasional, 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 pretty, man. His employees were well-fed and well-moisturised, draped in woven silk dyed scarlet. They trained in yoga, Pilates, and aerobic dance for roughly two hours a day and bathed in water essence with flower petals afterwards. Alexios took all their earnings, but they were each given a square of leather stained red and branded with his personal emblem. They presented this card to a merchant and the merchant knew to bill the brothel. Put simply, those working for Alexios Eoinson lived as well and securely as Romain’s soldiers. Just the expectations of their jobs differed, as one would hope they may.

Those who became injured, elderly, or pregnant were removed from the grounds, their red cards taken. They were given 10% of their total earnings and exchanged their silk toga for a pink cotton shift. Many business owners of [the port town] would take pity on them and give them simple work, food, and house. The less lucky cast outs flocked to the nearest Temple of Inden Ourek. Those who couldn’t make it died on the street. In this aspect, they were less cared for than the soldiers, who were merely transferred to the Protected Wing of the castle to become mothers, mentors, and tutors.

Wren had never seen the inside of Lex’s brothel, but he described it as a luxurious blushing cave. The candles were protected with hinged covers. The walls and ceiling and all the soft-mattressed beds were covered with soft pink and red fabrics. The floor was blanketed in layered furs of all colours. Lex himself presided in the foyer in a large leather chair, often with his current favourite curled up in his lap or on a pile of cushions at his feet. Well, 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓃 his feet. Every pirate docking in [that town] had seen Lex, immodest, half-buried in some pretty thing’s mouth.

Every new employee had their blood tested by the tongue of the vampire, who had three different ways of dealing with impurities. The sick were buried alive on the grounds, for having the audacity to approach for a job in such a state. The pregnant were sent to the Temple. Addicts could stay as long as their quest for poppies, mushrooms, and the like didn’t interfere with their work. Those with impure diets would be cleansed as a matter of course. Lex fed his employees an organic vegan diet. His neighbour was a food farmer who grew all the fruits, vegetables, nuts, and hallucinogenic plants and fungi anyone could wish to consume. The farmer and his family, in return for provisioning the brothel, got to use its services for free.

It had been some time between the time Lex had served the army of his country of origin and the time he was turned. His body was somewhat more pampered than that of Romain, who still trained for hours every day. Yet Lex was cold as ice and perfectly preserved. Wren wasn’t sure why she’d allowed him to seduce her. He was attractive enough, as had her fiancé been. The fact that she shared him with dozens of women and a handful of men didn’t bother her. The fact that his current favourite was intersex but, unlike Wren, hadn’t been altered at birth intrigued her.

“My favourites have all had something special or different about them,” Lex explained.

— 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻

Written in collaboration with scarluxia
Serena being her OC. I talked about what a high fantasy country’s citizens might still need to thrive and she wrote alot of how her character would solve them if Serena was canonized as Queen. We doodled out some notes together here:

Both the Queen and her Handmaid agreed that the best way to ensure Romain stayed in power was to see to the needs of the citizenry. Wren, as Lady of Letters, had first access to the written complaints of the people. Three days a week, Wren and Declan would choose an apprentice magic-user to go help solve some of those complaints. Serena and Lachlan chose to ride a carriage through the streets with leftover food. They, too, took an apprentice, one who could multiply items so there was always enough to feed the hungry and clothe the cold. Romain let them get on with it once the four of them had convinced him it would be less trouble than quelling an uprising.

Romain had strict standards for how his women presented themselves to the public. He was a jealous man who didn’t want anyone to covet them. Serena was docile and entirely devoted to him. She let him dress her however he pleased without complaint. Wren chafed at being told what she could and could not wear, but accepted magical alterations to her clothes. Thus it was that two women in long, modest gowns with soft white lace at the hems ventured forth from the castle, each with an apprentice in trousers and a tunic, and a knight of the Kingsguard in black and red armor. Serena wore light pink and Wren wore slate gray. Both women wore a dense white veil that obscured their features.

Wren was also in charge of collecting taxes. Only landowners, brothel owners, and smallkings were subject to taxation. Once a month, the Crown collected 10% of earnings from landowners and brothel owners, and 10% of supplies from smallkings—livestock, food supplies, seeds, and the like. To help her calculate taxes, she was accompanied by Truthravens, people whose job it was to ferret out every transaction made over the last month. Because landowners were only allowed to charge a certain amount for rent by a new decree, there wasn’t much in the way of coinage to be gathered from them. Smallkings’ supplies were simply tallied and 1/10 of every category was taken.

If someone refused to pay up, they were stripped of their land and position, and a soldier from Romain’s army was installed in their place. In the case of smallkings, a soldier was installed until the residents of the city-state in question elected a new smallking, who could, of course, be deposed or sent into exile if they stepped out of line.

While Wren’s party tended to the written complaints and collecting taxes, Serena’s looked after people who couldn’t or wouldn’t write to the Crown. Most didn’t see the point in it, and she didn’t blame them. She went door to door learning the citizens’ names and their troubles. Many were ordinary citizens who cared nothing for politics as long as their families were fed, warm, and housed. Providing fresh meals for the day and large bags of wheat, rice, beans, and seeds was no trouble. Equally easy were household repairs and improvements, and distributing clothes, blankets, and a bolt of cloth to each household. Serena also ordered the kitchen staff at Castle Vylia to set aside unused bits of fruits and vegetables so her party could turn people’s yards into flourishing gardens. The women, elders, and older children of the Protected Wing; the blood slaves; and some of the soldiers worked with textiles in their spare time: spinning, weaving, knitting, crocheting, sewing, and the like. Some used fresh plant fibers and wool. Some cut their old, worn-out clothes to scraps or shreds and made something new. Some were willing to donate to the cause and others preferred their garments magically duplicated. Either way, Serena and Wren were determined that every citizen should be clothed, housed if they wished, and fed.

Some areas, Serena’s party didn’t go door to door because there were people on the streets. Urchins sold flowers and stole food. Some young people traded sex for food, money, and a place to rest their heads. The Crown had no reason to outlaw prostitution, but as with any job, Serena didn’t think they should do it if they didn’t enjoy it. When she could, she spoke to the smallkings overseeing each city-state and commanded them to put a ceiling on the cost of food and housing; when a smallking wasn’t available, she spoke with their closest representative. She also refused to tolerate discrimination.

“Turning children out on the basis of their parentage is illegal now, by order of the King,” she informed them. Many were disbelieving.

“Romain sanctioned this?”

Those people were idiots. Rather than informing them of that fact, she simply showed them the decree, stamped with the royal seal. “Feed everyone. House everyone. Teach them to read and write so we can receive their letters. No exceptions.” If they showed signs of hesitancy, she casually added, ‘Or we can put you to death.”

Even after issuing these commands, it was needful to walk through the streets and speak to the people who lived on them. Culture didn’t change with a snap of the fingers, and many were suspicious of the motives of anyone offering them housing. Most apolitical people didn’t even know who Serena was. She heard their grievances and did what she could for them, even taking them into unpopulated areas and having the apprentice transfigure the local plant life into suitable, furnished housing that blended perfectly with the environment. They did so near bodies of water and made the homes fireproof and weatherproof. Pantries were stocked. Gardens were swiftly grown with assistance of magic.

Political malcontents were much more difficult to deal with. Serena had to order Lachlan to stay his hand more than once when citizens spoke words of treason. She wouldn’t allow them to be attacked unless they attacked Lachlan or the apprentice. She preferred to sit there and patiently dig through their resentment to find the heart of their grievance. Okay, they hate Romain; why? Well, he’s done this or that to their town, their village, their family, their friends. Well, what is it that they need now? Revenge, no, that’s not going to solve their problems. Would they rather live in a country without Romain in it? They’d be safe there. No? What would they do after achieving this hypothetical revenge? What other hobbies or aspirations do they have?

Those who adamantly refused to leave the country or give up on revenge were exiled anyway. They, and those who chose to leave voluntarily, were taken through a portal to a building owned by Morningstar Industries. The rest of the company was notified and set about creating housing contracts while the apprentice saw to identification. The apprentice provided birth certificates conjured from known information about the person, an Adornian passport, and a non-removable anklet that would prevent the dissident from returning. Each person was to be tutored in reading, writing, tech, and the history of the country to which they were being exiled before applying for citizenship. Serena provided a decree, called the Queen’s Intent, to allow them to attend school and find employment between the time they arrived and the time their citizenship was approved. Sometimes Lucifer had to use his persuasive talents to get citizenship approved. He also provided applicants on behalf of the reluctant.

Those who had livestock were given a farm and all necessary equipment to run it courtesy of Morningstar Industries. Those who owned property were paid a generous sum in addition to the starting money provided by Morningstar Industries. As with everyone under Serena’s care, they received clothing, blankets, food supplies, and a garden to tend. They also received pamphlets with local charity affiliates where they could work or volunteer in exchange for free rent.

Working with orphans, runaways, and children whose parents either couldn’t or wouldn’t take care of them was another challenge. Orphanages were now funded by the Crown, and those which neglected or mistreated children had the Kingsguard to answer to. Orphans, runaways, discarded children, and those rescued from abusive homes were brought to Vylia. Trees transformed into homes with three bedrooms and two bathrooms to start. The first time Serena brought a procession of children back to the castle, she ordered the older children and able-bodied elders housed in the Protected Wing into the dining hall with the children. New family configurations were decided over supper. Ideally, a household would consist of one elder, one older child, and one younger child. Siblings were allowed to stay together in some cases or set to be next-door neighbors in others. Teenagers who were dating were also allowed to stay together, but were still assigned one elder and one younger child. An extra bathroom was formed in the houses of four-person families. Girls who got pregnant were moved to the Protected Wing and lived there with their babies until the babies were weaned. Their boyfriends had the choice to join them in the castle or stay put, but the elder and adopted child were to remain in their house in the village. Resources were plentiful in the capital and residents of the Village-by-the-Castle were free to pursue any hobbies they wished, so long as they didn’t annoy the King.

One major thing that was outside the scope of either Serena’s or Wren’s ability to resolve was the care of people with disabilities. Healers couldn’t heal everything, and some people refused healing regardless. Since magical healing was so common, mundane medical training hadn’t developed, at least, not to the prevalence enjoyed by the rest of the world. The women did instruct scholars to be patient with all levels of others’ learning, and buildings were assessed and corrected for accessibility, but that was about the scope of what they could handle.

One day, someone proposed to pay American practitioners to train Adornian citizens in wellness. These practitioners’ payroll was handled by Morningstar Industries to avoid complications with currency exchange. Serena, with her own myriad mental health issues, vetted psychologists. Those she deemed fit were hired to train priests and brothel employees in compassion, trauma awareness, and behavioral therapy. A majority shareholder named Nathaniel, who was frequently injured due to recklessness, interviewed doctors. Adornian veterans with disabilities who lived in the Protected Wing spoke with American care advocates. Approved experts were hired to train citizens without magical talent who still had the inclination to help others. Morningstar Industries made it clear that attempting to charge Adornian students would be considered breach of contract. Truthravens were also assigned to Adornian practitioners to ensure they didn’t charge for their services; any payment they tried to extort would be promptly intercepted.

Romain disagreed that all of this was less trouble than simply sending dragons and demon armies to decimate anyone in opposition to him. He was initially annoyed with his women for leading him to believe otherwise, until one day in their bedchambers Serena bluntly asked if he’d prefer to be king of ashes and desolation. His temper flared and he attacked her, but he already knew by now that he couldn’t kill her; she knew by now that just standing there or dodging his attacks would only enrage him further. So she pulled her curly blonde hair up into a bun and armed herself, choosing from the weapons mounted on the left wall two mismatched daggers, and countered his attack. He grinned viciously and pulled his own thick black hair back into a ponytail. Thus Serena sparred with him, letting him get it out of his system. When he calmed down of his own accord, they both set aside their weapons.

Serena said, “We’re doing this because we want your rule to be over a thriving country. Whether or not you believe our people would love you, they are grateful to you. By order of the Crown, discrimination has been outlawed. We—you, Your Grace, are providing them with the means to survive and thrive. You’re making sure everyone has a stable home and can pursue what makes them happy. Whatever role Wren and I play, our people know that the King is molding his country into one that takes care of its people. Traitors are being relocated to another country and will die if they try to return—”

“What of my sister? I don’t want to be pacified, I want to know she and her little friends have stopped trying to usurp my crown!” Romain snapped.

Serena fought the urge to look down. She met his cold, deep blue eyes, in which the flames of hatred for the country that had turned its back on him still burned. “The culture is changing in your favor. Even Marcello, smallking of the werewolves, and Calaan, smallking of the vampires, have received the decrees outlawing discrimination and limiting living costs. If Erica hasn’t realized yet how futile it is to go against you, she soon will.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Romain demanded. “I will not be complacent and risk opening myself to attack.”

“Every member of our army will fight to their last breath to protect you,” Serena replied evenly. “The walls of the castle are fortified regularly. I myself am your impenetrable shield.”

Romain’s eyes narrowed, but he slowly allowed his tense muscles to relax. Serena waited for him to sink onto their bed before continuing.

“With that being said, there’s—however small it may seem—a chance it won’t even come to another battle. Once Erica notices the raids have stopped and the people have gratefully submitted to your overlordship, she and her friends could potentially see reason.”

Romain grabbed Serena’s wrist and pulled her down to sit beside him. “And how much credit do you plan to take for these changes in culture, my queen?” he hissed.

Serena smiled adoringly at him. He was, as ever, taken aback by the affection in her eyes. “It’s your country, my King,” she murmured, giving his shoulder a little nuzzle. “Your people recognize your wisdom, and if they don’t, Wren and I always say we’re acting by order of the King. We are acting in your interest. Your country thrives and your people will come to love you, as I do.”

Romain was still irritated that Serena was so transparently trying to pacify him, and the notion that he was being managed by his women chafed, but it was useless to go in circles. He could at least grant her the chance to prove her methods, but if she was wrong, he fully intended to have her flogged with a cat o’nine tails. She healed fast, but she did still bleed and experience pain.

Serena was used to Romain not saying it back, but it still saddened her. She brought his hand, still clamped around her wrist, up to her lips and kissed his ring, intending to excuse herself. He didn’t release her.

“I won’t dismiss you,” he said. She smiled again and snuggled up into his lap. Close enough.

Current Mood: pensive
Current Music: King by Florence + the Machine

Though sex was not given large consideration in Adornian culture, there were incubi and succubi who needed to feed. Their lifespans had been short before their General-turned-Queen had emigrated from America. It didn't take long for her to learn their plight. She arranged for seven of them to come back to the States with her every week. She taught them to use the Internet, bought them burner phones, set up online profiles, seek out the loneliest and bitterest, most pathetic losers they could find. Each demon was advised to set up dates for each of the seven days of the week they were there. They cast a wide net as their abilities allowed them to meet anyone, anywhere.

A succubus, for example, read the information the human provided on his profile. She found the one most likely to be lonely and did whatever it took to ingratiate herself to him. She gave him her phone number and agreed to meet up as soon as he asked. Many men would not believe these succubi were real women, so the succubus video chatted to ease the man's anxiety. They fell into an easy rapport. They met up. She played the part of the perfect, willing girlfriend, playing into his every desire and fantasy. She went with him to conduct their affair.

Sometimes the man would turn out to be evil himself. He tried to kill the succubus. He failed, and the succubus restrained him and used an emergency elixir given to her by the Queen. Her Grace had plucked a small feather and placed it in a cauldron of water that had been collected under the full moon and boiled, then whispered some words in a tongue not recognized by the denizens of Adornia. When the potion began to smoke, emitting a sweet scent like spun sugar, Her Grace ladled a portion into seven glass jars. Each jar was given to an incubus or succubus who would be traveling with her.

In such an event that the human tried to kill the demon, the demon drank the elixir. It caused a red glow to alight from her skin. She only had to touch the human to transfer the richest lust to them. Thus he was ready to be seduced.

The succubus indulged every fantasy and every kink that the human had that did not involve killing her. When the moment of his climax came, she devoured his soul through his sexual energy. He was left a lifeless husk.

She placed everything that belonged to him in a travel bag. It was small on the outside and felt light, but was infinitely roomy within. At the end of the week, the demons convened in a vacant building owned by the Queen's family in America. They spilled their bags; the items rearranged themselves into a pleasing feng shui throughout the rooms of the building, except for money and money cards, which remained in a pile on the floor of the room they were gathered in.

An ATM was manifested in the center of the room. The demons took turns putting in cards. She put in a card, waved her hand over the PIN pad, and all the money from all the accounts cashed out, including change. The money filed itself next to the ATM. It was split evenly between the seven demons and the Queen.

A sorcerer was called in to purify every room with items for sale in it before the items could be sold, to prevent a transfer of negative energy which could taint the reputation of the company. The money from sales was split evenly between the seven demons, the Queen, and the sorcerer.

Property owned by the deceased was papered to the company owned by the Queen's family. Remaining residents had their memories modified to forget the existence of the deceased. Empty residences were purified, refurbished, and put up for rent. Rental proceeds went to the company; it was their share of the total loot.

Her Grace used half her share of the money for the good of the people in her beloved adopted country, and the other half her share for Romain's comfort and happiness. He did not, she knew, care much for the people they ruled. He desired revenge on them for how the culture had treated him when he was growing up. She, on the other hand, wanted to quell revolution as much as possible, and the best way to do that was to make sure everyone had their needs met.

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Airyanna Dahlia - Faustus was making preparations for his wedding... | Facebook

Faustus was making preparations for his wedding that is yet to come. Lupercalia was not even upon them yet, being a few days away, and he was scrambling to get everything put together in time. He had not proposed, not yet considered a date. He planned to request the favor of the Dark Lord's presence to ask when He thought the wedding ought to be.

He had the bold decision to allow the boys from the Judas Society to arrange Lupercalia this year. Anton had been edgier than usual, antsy, snippish, and Father Blackwood decided to give him this important task instead of punishing him. Responsibility begets leadership, and Anton was the most promising young warlock in the Judas Society.

Going over again the colors of parchment and ribbons, a thought struck him. He went to his private garden, selected a small, blue-black rose, and snipped the stem. He stuck it in an envelope. "This will be a charming addition," he said aloud to himself in satisfaction.

Hearing a knock on the door, he hastened to put everything back into his desk so that there was no traces of the wedding planning. How silly of him to plan a wedding when he had yet to propose!

Rebecca Butler

The day had come to a close and Freya made her way to the Office of the High Priest as she did every day after the last class and before dinner. She and Faustus usually spent some time together before they had to part for the night and she usually ended up sitting with him as she finished up her schoolwork and him his paperwork, as they chatted together. Sometimes they sat in silence until all work was done and then took over an hour just to be together and enjoy each other's company. Whatever they did, Freya had come to enjoy every moment spent together with Faustus as she felt her feelings for him deepening day by day.

Feelings she was learning to hold in most times, because she had promised that they would go slow in getting to know each other and she was determined to hold to that promise....after that one night of shared passion where it had left her breathless and his in every way. That, hadn't happened again and she never brought it up, content to let things go the way they were supposed to go, slowly.

She knocked upon the door and peeked in to see if Faustus was busy, smiling brightly as she spotted him at his desk. "Hello Faustus." She greeted him, using only his name when it was just him and her. "Are you busy? I can come back later?" She asked.

Airyanna Dahlia

Faustus straightened and smiled at her. "Nonsense. Come in." He smiled and gestured with his hand that she could close the door and sit. He wondered if she would be bold today and sit at the edge of his desk, facing him.

***

Elsewhere, Anton was marshaling the rest of the Judas Society to prepare for Lupercalia. His resentment for Father Blackwood had been growing, but he had been trying his utmost to be stronger then his emotions.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, order please."

"Why is there a woman here?!" One of the other Judases demanded, pointing to the curly-haired young lady at Anton's side.

"If you would please calm down and allow me to explain." Anton waited for the hubbub to die down. "This is my Cousin Carlotta. She's well-versed in the traditions of Lupercalia. She will be helping us prepare in the way most pleasing to Our Lord." These last words spoken with a steely emphasis. "Are there any objectings?" His tone brooking no disagreement.

There was none.

"Good. Carlotta, if you would bring forth the goatskin cloths." She did so. "Now leave us." She did so. "Gentlemen, please form a line so we can measure these cloths. I want them each to be a perfect fit...."

***

"What's on your mind today, Freya?" Faustus asked. As Freya had entered Faustus's office, a rush of warmth swept over him. Her presence was like a ray of moonlight piercing through the clouds, illuminating his world with a radiance that he couldn't resist. The way her eyes sparkled with intelligence only deepened his fascination for her. Every step she took exuded grace, captivating him further. Faustus found himself drawn to the delicate curve of her lips, remembering the sweet taste of her kisses. Her voice, soft and melodious, echoed in his mind long after she spoke. In her presence, time seemed to slow down, as if they were the only two souls in existence. Freya's mere existence stirred a whirlwind of emotions within Faustus; desire mingled with admiration, creating an intoxicating cocktail that consumed his thoughts. Having her before him now, as ever, was almost indescribable with the joy that it filled him with.

Rebecca Butler

Hearing that she was permitted into his office and that he wasn't busy, Freya's smile brightened as she came in and shut the door behind her. Going to drop her book on the nearby chair where she usually sat, she instead went to perch lightly upon his desk, facing him. Crossing her legs together at the ankles, she braced herself lightly on the palms of her hands upon either side of her upon his desk.

"I heard people talking in the halls today, is it true?" She asked with a hint of a grin. "Lupercalia? I heard it was coming up in a few days and was....curious about it."

She tried not to blush as she spoke, as she had never actually participated in a Lupercalia festival before. Her father had forbidden it! Determined that she not even watch it, to keep herself pure.

But now that he wasn't around, and she was free to explore and learn, that is exactly what she wanted to do. Learn, and who better to ask than Faustus?

He smiled as she perched upon his desk. "Yes, it is most certainly true," he affirmed to her. "Some of our finest students are helping to arrange it this year. They wished it to be most... authentic," he said with a widening smile to her. "You shall find it refreshingly different from any other Lupercalia that you've attended," not knowing that she had not had the chance to attend before.

Hearing that it was indeed true, Freya's eyes seemed to gleam in excitement, even more so when she heard that some of the students were preparing to make it special. Though, such excitement slowly faded as she bit her lip and looked away from Faustus.

"I--I have never---actually participated in said event before." She admitted, blushing terribly. It felt sillty to say, but it was the truth. Her father had never allowed it. Knowing of the 'sins of the flesh' and he would have none of it for either of his children. They were to remain Pure, so he could best use them as pawns to further his power by offering them up in marriage as such.

The cloths had been measured. The boys had been discomfited that it was a woman measuring them but she was businesslike. Carlotta prepare the strips of goat hide, ensuring they were supple and ready. "This year you shall bless each other with health and prosperity," she siad in her thick Italian accent. When the goat hides had been prepared she inspected the instruments that would be used to fill the night air with melodies that would entice even the most reluctant dancer.

"Now, collect the laurel leaves while I tend to the togas," Carlotta instructed. Her tone would brooke no argument.

+++

"Haven't you?" Faustus asked with an arch brow. Such innocence... begged to be corrupted. He tried to suppress the smirk that wanted to curve his left lip. "Then Freya, I can promise you without a doubt that you shall have the experience of a life time."

Current Music: Physical by Dua Lipa

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Airyanna Dahlia

The next morning, Faustus awoke with a dreamy sigh. He took a long draught of water from the goblet that lay ever at his bedside.

Many thoughts about last night swirled through his head. Should they have done that? Should they hae waited until they were married? Was this another step in deciding if they were truelly compatible or if it was just the Dark Lord's decree? He had enjoyed himself, for true, but had he been caught up in the moment with no regard for consequences? Was he not too soon widowed to consider remarriage? These questions and more swirled through his head as he shaved, dressed, and went to his desk to finalize his lesson plans.

His reverie was interrupted by a series of sharp knocks at the door of his study. Without waiting to be invited in, a member of the Judas Society walked in and placed a stack of papers upon Faustus's desk.

"For your signature, Headmaster," he said. Faustus nodded curtly and began to tend to the paperwork. Administration before breakfast was not, truthfully, his favorite part of the job, but it was vital.

Rebecca Butler

The next morning, Freya awoke, back in her dormitory bed and wondered how on earth she had gotten there! For the last thing she remembered was sharing her night, as well as her heart, with Faustus. True, she knew it wouldn't do for her to awaken in his bed, yet, as they were not married; nor could they really be seen doing things like this as of yet, but then, were they not promised and already bound? By the Dark Lord at least? Who would care if they were seen? No one could complain for the marks on both of their shoulders. Yet, she knew and had agreed to go slow, so waking up here was smart....but again, they just had shared the most passionate night together.

She was so confused as she roused herself out of bed and went to shower and prepare for the day. Her thoughts in a tangle.

If Faustus had wanted to take things slow, why had they made love so quickly? Was it wrong? Certainly not, for she felt his passion as well as her own. Would he think her easy or loose, that she had done so without them being married? Would he think that they had moved to fast and try to wriggle out of it? Oh! She didn't understand!

As she made her way to the cafeteria for breakfast, she heard a low, rumbling growl off to her left and saw the shadowed figure of the Dark Lord, lurking in an empty classroom. Making sure no one else saw her, she veered off into that classroom and knelt down before him, as he swiped his clawed hand and locked and sealed the room.

"Daughter of the Fire....have I not been gracious?" His rumbling voice bellowed out around her, making her wince internally. He seemed angry with her, but what had she done?! "Have I not given you all that was promised when you were but a child? Your father, gone! Safety at last in a school where you will be taught! even my BEST High Priest? Why then are you so confused? Are you unhappy with your gifts?"

"No....No my Lord!" Freya said instantly, bowing still lower. "You are truly good to do all that you have said...and I thank you for it. I am learning, every day as you say, so much from all those here, and I thank you, for your blessing with the High Priest."

The Dark Lord seems to ponder her words against her actions and her aura, which he can see is fluctuating rapidly.

"Go then.....and wait again for my coming...." He waves his hand and unseals the room and lets Freya dart out and head to breakfast. He had a High Priest to visit, and to speak too. Seems something was amiss between His two favorites. Doubts...

He appeared in Faustus's office a few moments after letting Freya go, in a puff and fire and smoke and stood tall before his most powerful High Priest.

"Faustus....it seems today finds you well, and yet....something tells me, you are conflicted? Have I not given you all that you desired? Power, Prestige, Monetary gain, Freya....?" He asked in this way to test the waters with Faustus. To see what his thoughts and where his heart, truly lay.

Airyanna Dahlia

Faustus paused with his pen hovering over the parchmen he was signing when His Lord entered.

"My Lord, to what do I owe the- Excuse me, hold that thought-" The words hardly out of his mouth before he bolted into his bath chamber and heaved loudly! Emptying his stomach. Yet at least it was before breakfast.

For ten minutes he crouched there. Gagging and wretching for all he was worth, his body wracking in convulsions truelly terrible to behold. Finnally with one final heave, he got out the last of it and stood. He wiped his mouth. He went to his sink and rinsed his mouth. He went back to his study to face the Dark Lord.

"Indeed. Today finds me well," he said politely. Bowing low. "I hardly miss my late wife and the children that never were." He spoke with the utmost polite neutrality. Calm in posture and composed of stature. "I am, however, missing breakfast. Have you the time to join me, My Lord?"

Rebecca Butler

The Dark Lord's ears went back at the sound of his most trusted High Priest being sick and he snorted in disgust as he waited. What was wrong with the man? Witches and Warlocks could not be sick, given their gifts kept them from catching colds or aging. But, he put such thoughts out of his mind till later, when Faustus returned.

"Finds you well? I would hardly call that....well." His deep guttural voice echoed around his office as he growled softly at the last of Faustus's words.

"Careful Priest. I like you and thus allow you certain lee ways, but not even you are permitted such blasphemous words." His ears perked back up as he stared at his High Priest, eyes burning like Hellfire.

"You DID say you would pay any price to possess and make Freya your own, when I asked you...did you not? Said you would pay the price asked of you for such a thing. Well....that was MY price." He paused as his head tilted a bit as if thinking before speaking again. "Your wife was barren, for many years and did not please you. Your children, had they been born would not have flourished. Bare this in mind, before you turn all self-righteous, for you are not the only one who lost to gain in this Priest."

He pulled back and chuckled softly. "No. I have much to do, but I will be watching...." So saying, he disappeared back into Hell, in a cloud of flames and smoke.

*****

Meanwhile, Freya had made it to the cafeteria, and had gotten her breakfast, but she couldn't eat. Her mind was in a whirl of thoughts and she didn't know which one to clamp onto. She picked at her food, eating enough to stave off her hunger she felt but a little as she sighed. The girls she usually sat with were talking amongst themselves, as if sensing Freya's need to think. Giving her space.

She tried to think as if everything was normal, but it wasn't. Nothing would be 'normal' again. Not after last night, for sure. Not that she regretted it, not at all! It was just...different, to have to adjust to. Her thoughts interrupted when she heard her girl friends giggling and turned to listen in to their conversation. Something about an upcoming holiday in a few weeks? Lup--Lupercailla? What on earth was that? She made a mental note to ask Faustus the next time she saw him and set to actually eating her breakfast.

Airyanna Dahlia

"Forgive me," Faustus said, bowing low again. "I had no idea that inviting My Lord to join me for breakfast was considered blasphemous."

He squinted as trying to remember when, indeed, he had made such an oath. "I did not," he said, surprised when his mind came up empty. The Dark Lord had merely marked him on a whim after he had said she wished for a partner he could grow and build with. He had never promised to give ANYTHING. Indeed, he had thought he was being punished at the time, for saying Freya was a WHO and not a WHAT.

|| -Admin looks through the rest of the roleplay and Faustus has never said those words. Were you thinking of someone else?- ||

Observing the flames and smoke for a moment. Then Faustus went back to his paperwork with a sigh. Today was going to be a long day.

Rebecca Butler

The day was indeed long, for Freya too. Long and frustrating, for things seemed to keep happening that made her entirely frustrated by the end of the day. She did well in her classes and got passable grades, but it was the little things that irritated her throughout the day. Her pencil broke during a long lecture and it turned out that she didn't have another. She was late to lunch because of a conversation with a teacher about some extra credit she could do to boost up her grade a little and so missed out on her favorite meal and had to get the second option. The book she needed to check out from the library had JUST been checked out the moment she went to look for it. Little things like that that made her want to swear! So by the time, the school day ended, it found her sitting in the garden outside of the school, just trying to find some peace.

Nature had always helped relax her, for she loved sitting in silence and feeling the breeze waft around her as she sat so still....

"Freya?"

She opened her eyes and saw Anton standing before her, with a look of concern on his face. She managed a small smile when in reality all she wanted was to be left alone for a moment.

"Hello Anton."

"Are--are you alright?" He asked as he moved to join her, causing her to slid a ways away from him.

"Yes. I am fine, thank you. Just---needed a moment." She replied and smiled faintly back at him. "You---you ever have one of those days where nothing ever seems to go right? Where every little thing seems to just drive you crazy? Yea, that is me today." She chuckled softly, which made Anton smirk at bit at her.

"Oh yea, Life can get that way sometimes...but, it always gets better." He replied. "Just got to remember that." He nudged her gently.

"I do remember, just....I don't know....I thought things would be different...." She trailed off and went silent as she realized she almost started to speak about her feelings of the night before. Not to say that she wasn't happy, she was! She was just a bit confused about certain things and wondered if she had done things to early.

"I fear....I have done some things to early, and others...to late." She said softly, mostly talking now about her father and his upbringing, rather than her night with Faustus.

"Nothing is ever to late, Freya." Anton smiled at her warmly.

She turned and looked at him and smiled, nodding slightly. "You know...you're right. Thanks." She chuckled softly, her feelings a bit steady again. "Well, thanks again, but I should get back. Dinner is soon and got homework to do." She smiled as she stood and took a few steps away before pausing and smiling back at him. "Thank you, again....you're a good friend."

With that, Freya turned to head back into the school. Fully intending to head to the Head Master's Office as she did every day after school. To do her work while Faustus did his. She had a few questions about a few things she had heard throughout the day now that she was more settled to ask him.

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Current Music: Acceptance by Sonya Henar

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Airyanna Dahlia - The air felt crisp against Kai's scales as he... | Facebook

The air felt crisp against Kai's scales as he tentatively stretched out his wings. His tiny body trembled with excitement and uncertainty. As he took his first steps outside, Kai discovered the sensation of cool grass beneath his talons. He marveled at the sound of the leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. Everything was new and wondrous to him. The melodic chirping of birds, the whispering of trees, and even the distant rumble of thunder filled his ears with a symphony of life. He flapped his wings experimentally, feeling the rush of air against his face.

He sensed a presence nearby and chirped curiously. 'Hello, who's there?' He seemed to ask.

Rebecca Butler

Morgul had been out for a flight by himself. Moments when Allya was to busy, or he just wanted to test himself and his limits out as he grew bigger. The day was warm and the breeze as he flew was so soothing against his scales. It made him feel such peace in this tumulus world; where his 'mother' was always unsure lately, and he could feel her feelings. For a moment, all was right in the world.

Sensing movement down below, Morgul landed gently in the bushes nearby and sniffed the air. It was a dragonling. Small, pale blue, with tiny purple wings, and it had Allya's scent! Was this a 'sibling'?

Peeking out of the bushes slowly so as not to startle the little one, Murgul rested upon the ground and purred softly. "Hello Little One. Who might be?" He tilted his head at the little dragonling.

Airyanna Dahlia

Kai approached the other dragon with faltering, tentative steps, sniffing curiously and cautiously. "Umm... I think Mama said my name is Kai," his voice coming out like a little squeak. He flapped his wings. They were not yet strong enough to bear his weight up off the ground, but it felt nice to feel the breeze against his wings. "Who might you be?" He asked, echoing the larger dragon's question.

Lachlan awoke alone and starving. He sat up, rubbing his arms- a habit he’d never dropped from his human days- and padded to the feeders’ hall.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Lachlan gently opened door after door, calling for the humans who lived within. Growing steadily more anxious with each unanswered call. Till he got to the last room and was hit with the marvelous scent of fresh green apples, as soon as he opened the door.

The room was dimly lit with candles. Like all the other candles in the castle they were scented the same as Romain’s preferred soaps, smelling of bergamot and oudh and something Lachlan couldn’t fully identify but was rich and earthy like cedarwood. Sitting in a lounge chair, candlelight flickering over his face, sat Romain. Beside him was a picnic basket woven of silver wire. The lid was half-open and Lachlan could see it was filled to the brim with apples. The sight of them, combined with the smell of them and of the candles, sent pangs of hunger through him. He closed his eyes for a few moments, then looked at the soft latch-hooked carpet as he knelt.

“Me laird king,” he half-whispered, his voice a pained croak.”

“Good morning, Lachlan,” said Romain cheerily. “Let’s have a conversation. Come. Sit before me.”

Lachlan obeyed, trying his utmost to ignore the hunger that grew more desperate with every passing step. How long had he been out? And he never woke up this hungry.

There was a plush velveteen cushion on the floor just in front of Romain’s feet. If Lachlan was human, his heart would be racing as he made his way to it and sat.

“Are you hungry?” Romain asked in the same cheery tone as before. What was going on? Was he dreaming? Yet Lachlan nodded hesitantly.

“Yes, me laird,” he replied softly, trying not to stare at the basket of apples. Romain plucked an apple from the basket and polished it on a cloth.

“Allow me,” the king said, producing a paring knife that glinted, sharper than sharp, in the candlelight. Dwarven steel, Lachlan realized. He hoped Romain could see what he was doing in this dim lighting, otherwise-

“Ah!”

A wonderful, tantalizing scent filled the air, eclipsing the candles and even the apples. Something promising a taste so delectable, Lachlan would have wept had his very being not been so bone-dry, so deathly parched.

“Ah, that’s no good. I’ll have to throw this one out,” said Romain. “By my own law, I can’t allow you to eat something with even the barest drop of elven blood.” He started to move the tainted fruit to a papier-mâché-owl-decorated little wastebasket, then paused. “Unless, of course, you believe yourself discerning enough to eat around it?” He moved the apple right under Lachlan’s nose.

Lachlan couldn’t unstick his throat enough to speak. He wished to say that yes, surely, he could, anything for Romain to just give him the damned apple! Yet he, Lachlan, was the Captain of the Guard, sworn to defend Romain at any and every cost.

This was a test.

Slowly, even at the pace of a glacier, Lachlan shook his head. More so, he pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his kilt and wrapped Romain’s palm, the side of which had been cut. He did this even though by the scent of the King’s blood, he was all but willing to risk silver burns to grab an apple himself from that wire basket.

“Thank you for your honesty.” Romain’s voice, courteous and calm- so damned calm- sounded as if it came from very far away. A soft rustle and a thud then as Romain dropped the tainted apple into the wastebasket. “Your brother tells me you can feed elsewise than on blood. He tells me most of your feeders are male for that purpose.”

Dizziness began to overtake Lachlan, yet he nodded. No one in Romain’s service dare lie to him if they wish to live.

“It isn’t blood.” Romain pointed out the obvious, and it suddenly hit Lachlan exactly where, and how, they were sitting.

His mouth could not run dryer. His veins could not truelly freeze. Down he kept his gaze, fixated on the apples, anywhere but straight ahead. He had missed, earlier, that the King wore at current only a long tunic and boots.

Lachlan was going to faint if he didn’t eat something, NOW!

“Would you like me to arouse myself for you so you can feed? Or….” Romain drawled out the word. He took another apple from the basket and wiped it with the cloth he had used earlier.

Before Romain could again touch the knife to the apple, Lachlan snatched it out of his hand and bit into it. He chewed furiously, praying for his hunger to abate. Barely tasting the fruit itself. Romain hardly had time to polish the next apple, before Lachlan had finished the first and grabbed for it. And so it went, down to the last apple in a basket large enough to carry a toddler. When they had all been consumed, Lachlan scooted the cushion away and kowtowed to Romain, forehead pressing against the carpet as he wept with gratitude.

“You may rise,” Romain said when Lachlan’s shoulder had stopped shaking with sobs. “Sit beside me.” He snapped his fingers and a duplicate of his chair appeared. Lachlan obeyed. Romain asked, “Can you speak?”

“Yes, me laird king,” Lachlan’s voice hoarse.

“I would say you did well, declining temptation, yet I wonder how tempted you in truth had been. I offered myself to you, yet you declined.”

Silence hung between them as Romain waited for Lachlan to speak.

“Well?” he demanded after several minutes.

“Aye, me laird king. I declined.”

“Yet you were hungry, were you not?”

Lachlan inclined his head. “I fed from a human’s blood before sleepin’, but it must not have been much. Blood doesn’t keep me as full as… eh….” Lachlan averted his eyes. “S-so when I came to the feeders’ hall, I felt like I was starvin’.”

“A starving man would eat anything, would he not? Would he, indeed, have the strength to refrain himself from devouring something carelessly set before him?” Romain’s tone sounded like it was nothing more than a philosophical exercise.

There was nothing careless about how Romain had cut his hand wedging the first apple. Yet Lachlan was not fool enough to show mistrust.

“Not if he’s sworn himself to protect such a treasure,” he said earnestly. “I am me laird king’s sworn shield. I would rather starve than encourage yer injury.”

Romain chuckled, a deep and resonant sound that filled the room.. “I would like to be impressed with you, my Captain, yet perhaps, laws aside, my blood simply did not appeal.”

“It was the most delicious thing I’ve ever smelled,” Lachlan confessed, unable to stay his words. “I, I couldn’t resist the temptation. The apple, the first, I couldn’t have stopped meself tasting ye. I’d have eaten it all and licked yer hand clean if I’d have taken it.”

“Such fortitude.” It was difficult to tell if Romain was praising him. “Yet even a starving man with such strength of duty would surely not turn down a meal offered freely.” Romain traced the embroidery at the hem of his tunic, which reached midway down his thigh as he sat, so there could be no doubt of what he referred to now. “Have you ever thought of me that way, Lachlan?”

A few beats passed as the weight of the king's question settled upon him. The room fell into an awkward silence; time seemed to stretch infinitely. Lachlan's mind raced, doubt gnawed at his confidence, making him second-guess every possible response. His discomfort was as a storm brewing beneath calm waters.

“I don’t think of ye as food,” the vampire said finally. Each syllable carried a certain weight, yet afraid of what might crack beneath him. The timbre of his voice was as an instrument played with unsteady hands.

“I see,” Romain then stood. Before Lachlan could ask what he was doing, off was the tunic, and Romain’s body, honed to lithe perfection from countless hours training himself with all manner of movement and weaponry, was bared beneath Lachlan. “Yet the question I asked, my Captain,” Romain punctuated the title with a light caress to Lachlan’s icy cheek, “was whether you are carnally tempted by me.”

Lachlan loved to gaze upon nude men. The allure of the male form, stripped down to its most vulnerable state, stirred a primal desire within his being. The uninhibited expression of passion and sensuality that danced across their sculpted bodies, fascinated him. The play of light and shadow on their skin revealing every angle and contour, accentuating the artistry that nature had bestowed upon them. Their strength and vulnerability intertwined in an intricate dance, captivating Lachlan's senses. Thus he embraced the beauty that lay beneath layers of clothing and inhibitions. He had seen, tasted, and delighted in all manner of bodies.

He’d assumed Romain was asexual and thus did him the respect of avoiding picturing him naked. It was well, for what he saw before him now would put any such fantasy to shame, as surely as it put to shame every other man Lachlan had bared. Romain's naked form exuded an intoxicating allure, as if sculpted by a divine hand. His chiseled physique was a testament to his discipline, every sinew and muscle perfectly defined. His body possessed a mesmerizing symmetry that drew the eye. Smooth, sun-kissed skin adorned his frame, accentuating the ripple of muscles beneath. Each line and curve conveyed strength and grace in equal measure. His skin seemed to glow with an ethereal light from within. With each movement, Romain had always exuded an aura of confidence and magnetism that commanded attention. His physique was not merely for show; it was a testament to his unwavering dedication to both mind and body. At this moment, beholding Romain's nakedness in full force, Lachlan was helpless to the magnitude of his gorgeous, powerful form. A sight that left Lachlan all but spellbound and speechless.

Taking a shuddering breath, Lachlan forced himself to drag his violet eyes up to meet Romain’s ocean-blues.

“I won’t take sexual advantage of ye, not even to keep from starvin’,” he all but whispered. “It’s the job of me pet feeders to satisfy me hunger. It’ sthe job of yer shield to guard yer body, not indulge in it.” His gaze was yet drifting again, lingering where it ought not to be. “Praise Lifeyrala for yer beauty,” he murmured with hardly a thought. Invoking Adornia’s goddess of love and beauty.

“Hmm, and would it be taking advantage if I made it an order?” The King thumbed Lachlan’s cheek with a touch that was callused yet surprisingly delicate.

The tantalizing allure of Romain’s words, spoken ever so playfully, hung in the air between them. Lachlan longed to lean forward, to accept this offer, this hypothetical order, yet…

Yet....

Lachlan tore his gaze off his liege’s body once more to stare at him as if he’d gone mad. He swallowed thickly before these words passed through his lips:

“Eh… ye can have me as yer knight or as yer concubine, but not both,” the vampire told him, blunt as you please. “Order me into yer bedchamber and ye’ll need to hire someone else to stand outside it.”

A rare, true smile quirked Romain’s lovely cupid’s-bow lips. He put back on his tunic, then pulled Lachlan up, into a friendly hug and patted his back.

“Your position is safe,” Romain assured him. “Now rest.”

That was the last thing Lachlan remembered before waking up again, back in his bed, snuggled in the arms of one of his favorite feeders. Wondering if that bizarre encounter had been but a dream.

The three brothers stood in a torchlit corridor. Like every other corridor in the castle, it was candle-lit with wall sconces. The walls were of matte black brick and the floor was of gleaming black stone. Lachlan leaned against the wall against one arm, with his arms crossed. Alexios stood in the doorway in his usual guard’s stance. Here they stood as Declan excitedly discussed, with many gestures, with his brothers the virtue of having a Queen Consort such as Lady Allya, who was kind-hearted and gentle of spirit, with intelligence besides. From Declan’s own point of view.

“Please,” Alexios scoffed. “Be realistic. The sort of queen you’re describing would not last a year in Romain’s service, let alone his marriage chamber, if indeed he would have such a thing.”

Declan’s wide indigo eyes stared pleadingly up at his eldest brother. “But she’s really nice,” he protested.

Piercing ice-blue eyes unflinching met. “Nice is for secretarial work. You may as well suggest Wren become Queen.” Alexios tilted his head as if something had just occurred to him. “Come to think of it, Wren is demure, respectful, and professional. She’d hardly defy our lord king. Shall I put in a word for her, then?”

Lachlan had observed the discussion silently till now, keeping mum about his distaste and allowing his excitable younger brother to speak freely. Now he stopped leaning against the wall, stepped between his elder and younger brother. Gently pushing Declan behind him out of habit. He stared Alexios right in the eye with a soft growl. Lex crossed his arms and smirked.

“What is it, boy?” He asked as if Lachlan was a pet dog.

“Stay. Away. From. Wren.” Each word clipped, tone cold yet measured.

Lex laughed, as if he found this terribly amusing. “Are you sleeping with this Lady of Letters, too?” he asked, a hand to his heart in mock shock. “My, but you do have a liking for that position. A curious mind might wonder what other positions you’ve found for her.”

If Lachlan had blood to boil, it would be. “Ye wretch, ye will stay away,” he bit out. Choosing to ignore the nosy question and focus on his point.

Lex laughed again. “Or what? Romain won’t allow you to kill me.”

Lachlan could not stop the snarl bubbling out of him, nor stop himself from slamming Alexios backwards into the black brick wall. Declan’s shocked noises of protest didn’t hardly register. “There are ways to incapacitate ye, without resortin’ to murder, brother,” Lachlan hissed.

This only served to amuse Lex further. “I don’t think Romain will recognize the disteinction-“

“FUCK Romain! If ye-“

“I wouldn’t.”

Lachlan looked suspiciously at his elder brother, but his hand loosened on the other’s lapel.

“I swear it. I wouldn’t,” Alexios promised all too innocently. Then just as Lachlan had processed his words and loosened his grip yet further, Alexios bared his teeth in a sinister grin. “Fuck Romain, that is. But you’d like to, wouldn’t you?” Lex dropped his voice to a seductive purr and put a finger under Lachlan’s chin, tilting the redhead’s face up as he leaned down and softly murmured, almost against his lips, “Did you notice, he looks a little like me? Is there something forbidden I should know about you, little brother?”

Lachlan was too infuriated to get a comprehensible word out. He merely glared as Alexios taunted him. Yet when Lex inched his face down to actually kiss him, Lachlan reared back and head-butted him so hard it all but echoed through the hall! Lachlan held his forehead, wincing against the pain. “Yer vile!” He bit out between gritted teeth. Declan gagged in agreement behind him.

Lex was unperturbed. Indeed if anything, he seemed more amused than ever. “Shan’t I play Romain for you, then? I confess, I know not whether to be insulted or relieved; I hardly wish to grow out my hair.”

“Hey,” Declan protested, peeking out from behind Lachlan, who by now looked positively feral. “Don’t ye think yer gain’ too far? Ye shouldn’t want that kind of a relationship with yer brother.”

“Hmm,” Lex hummed. Pretending to consider Declan’s words. “You’re right, Declan.”

The blonde looked hopeful and relieved, and it showed.

Then Lex again spoke. “Mayhap our dear brother would prefer I arrange a more suitable encounter.”

“Yeah! See, that sounds right lovely,” the words rushing to tumble out of Declan’s mouth. Lachlan closed his eyes in second-hand embarrassment at Declan’s naïveté.

“Thank you,” Alexios purred. “Yes, it does sound lovely. I’m of all certainty darling Lachlan will appreciate it. Think of it….” He spoke in honeyed tones. “Mayhap a threesome, hmm?”

Then his gaze unexpectedly hardened as he shifted his balance and sent Lachlan and himself, crashing to the hard stone floor. One hand grasping Lachlan’s throat. The other prying Lachlan’s hands off his wrist and pinning them above his fiery-colored head as Lex sat astride him. He leaned in, their faces inappropriately close again. “A threesome,” he growled, “between my wife’s replacement… and your very own Singer.” At Lachlan’s shocked expression, Alexios pulled back and laughed. “What? You think I didn’t know why you follow him around like a little lost puppy, performing duties that lie far outside what even a sworn shield should expect? You’re not in love with him. You merely crave him on a cellular level. You’d do well to stop confusing the two.” Lex stood and offered his hand to help Lachlan up. Lachlan looked down contritely, accepted Lex’s hand-

And pulled him down, moving swiftly. He was now straddling Lex’s lower back with a hand fisted in his black hair, slamming his face against the stone floor, smudging the shine of the floor, screaming curses in Gaelic-

Until he was pulled back and all but thrown backwards.

“Yer a lying shite!” Lachlan cried, switching back to Vylian English.

“Calm down!” The command echoed with magic through the hall.

Lachlan pulled his knees up and pressed his face against his legs to hide his trembling lips. As always, Lex knew exactly what to say to reduce Lachlan to a sobbing mess. He wished not to give Lex the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to Lachlan yet again. He closed his eyes and pressed them to his knees.

He felt the weight of a hand on his back, soothing him. He heard an all too familiar voice speak.

“You will not reduce me to a babysitter, Alexios,” Romain said, his voice amplified still to a terrifying echo. “Whatever absurd claim you’ve made-”

“My Lord, with respect, I’ve said nothing untrue.”

Footsteps echoed on stone. A cry of pain from Alexios. Lachlan would have looked up if he’d not wished to hide his crying face.

“Respect?” Romain repeated incredulously. “Is it respectful to provoke your Captain? To have another soldier so disturbed he barges into my war room without so much as a by-your-leave to tell me that my bodyguard is in yet another altercation with you?”

“He attacked me first-”

“AND YOU PROVOKED HIM!” Romain bellowed. A strangled cry of pain gurgled from Lex.

“Fuck- Romain-” he gasped out.

The air went deathly still.

“His words,” Lex gritted out.

“It weren’t like that!” Declan piped up indignantly. “Lex was plottin’ on Wren, he was, and Lachlan just told him to stay away! Lex said ye wouldn’t let us incapacitate each other, and then Lachlan… he did say it, me laird, but- but it weren’t like Lex made it sound.”

“YOU DON’T THINK THIS IS INCAPACITATED?” The air thickened with the force of Romain’s rage. “You think he can do his job in such a state?” Crackles of dark energy punctuated his words. He lowered his voice to normal volumes. “Declan, take Lachlan to his room. See that he’s fed. I’ll deal with him later.’

A bitter, half-choked bark of laughter from Alexios as Declan helped his middle brother up and walked him out. As they were walking out, Lachlan heard Lex remark that Lachlan would probably prefer if Romain fed him straight from-

he heard a crackle of magic and the distinctive lash of a whip-

the loudest scream yet that seemed to follow them all the way to the vampires’ and feeders’ wing.

“He’s got a temper on him, he does,” Declan remarked. He led Lachlan to a door painted watermelon-red. He knocked gently. Not hearing a protest, they walked into a room that looked like a sumptuous hotel suite. Inky-black walls adorned with intricate gold trimmings enveloped the space, creating an atmosphere of timeless elegance. Towering floor-to-ceiling mirrors trimmed in gold were proudly displayed from the walls. Intricately patterned drapes framing the windows. The floor, covered in the same plush carpeting punctuated with playful latch-hook rugs, invited indulgent footsteps to traverse its luxurious surface. A king-sized bed commanded attention at the center of the room, dressed in silky sheets that whispered promises of comfort and rest. In one corner stood a meticulously crafted ebony writing desk, adorned with antique brass accents. A velvet-upholstered armchair accompanied it. At current, there were three humans sitting on the bed, playing some manner of card game, and one sitting in the velvet chair. Declan walked to the bed, took the hand of the nearest human. He pricked the back of the human’s hand casual as anything and moved it to Lachlan’s mouth.

“Sorry, mate. I can all but feel how hungry ye are. We ain’t got time for ye to feed the other way, sides, I don’t fancy a show.”

Lachlan accepted the human’s hand without comment. He was far from in the mood for the alternative, as it happened.

Declan kept chattering. “I’m grateful, ye know. To our laird king, for bein’ so protective of ye. But, I hope Lex is right, that a nice girl couldn’t soften him up. Least not when he’s gone mad on yer behalf. Lex ain’t got no right to say the rest of what he said. Yer the king’s bodyguard, he’s got to feel safe with ye. What’s Lex thinkin’, puttin’ crazy thoughts in yer head like that?”

The feeder got dizzy and it showed when he leaned back against the headboard with a small murmur of complaint. Lachlan dropped his hand. “Ye’ve a lot to say now,” he said pointedly, voice shaking. He wiped his eyes.

“Don’t ye give me that. I stopped him from somethin’ right disgusting. Come on. Let’s get ye to yer room.”

Lachlan walked with him out of the feeders’ section, down a hall decorated with paintings he’d curated himself but was in no mood to appreciate at current. Yet he was starting to calm. “Yer right, he’s talkin’ from his arse,” Lachlan reflected. “Even if I had a Singer, how would he know who it was?”

There was an uneasiness as Declan paused in his steps. Lachlan’s brow furrowed at him, then Declan smiled like an angel, dazzling and bright.

“I’ve always loved this painting,” the blonde said, looking past Lachlan to the painting behind him. It depicted a ship being tossed about foamy, deep-violet waters while lightning struck white against an angry night sky. It was ancient; their father had acquired it as a barter, back when the brothers had all been human. Lachlan had kept it safe after their father had died. It was the first painting he’d hung in Castle Vylia, right across from his own bedroom so he could gaze upon it always.

Lachlan had been about to pass his room without thinking about it just now. “Me, too,” he said softly.

“Do ye think Father would be happy if he could know we’d all come to the same castle? That all his boys are together?” Declan asked in a voice full of hope.

Lachlan’s lip threatened to tremble again as he pushed past Declan and went onto his bed, which was no less sumptuous than the one in the human’s room they had just left. “Father wouldn’t-” he croaked. Took a breath, collecting himself. “He would have loved Seraphina.”

So much was said, and yet unsaid, in that sentence.

Declan came in and sat next to the redhead. “Imagine he’d have given Lex a right good hidin’ for not protectin’ his woman,” he said softly, with all sympathy.

That got a smile. “After he was done lecturin’ me for potentially knockin’ her up,” Lachlan said.

“Was she…?”

Lachlan gathered his hair, twisted it, and let it fall over one shoulder. “Could’ve been. If Lex uncovered her on their weddin’ night and saw her, eh, roundin’ out….”

Declan gasped.

“Don’t ye go makin’ assumptions,” Lachlan warned. “I don’t know, meself. Don’t know if he caused what to happen. I just know he could’ve saved her and refused to. That much, he told me.”

They sat in silence until Declan asked, “Why did he think yer sleepin’ with Wren?”

A humorless laugh that came out like a bark. “He was fishin’, more like than not. Mayhap he wants her for himself. I just can’t let him mistreat another woman. It’s a matter of principle.”

Declan nodded. “I didn’t think ye was, with her. She looks nothin’ like Sera, so I imagine she ain’t yer type to begin with.” He paused awkwardly. “Allya, on the other hand-”

“Bears a passing resemblance.” The words came out sharply. “I’m not interested in her, Dec. Nor am I afraid for her. Yer right that she’d be good for the realm, why don’t ye keep yer imagination there-a-ways?”

“No, I must say this, at least,” Declan argued, his face stubborn. “If she’s attracted to our king’s looks, we ought to keep him away from our brother. At all costs.”

The remembrance that Allya, with her wavy dark hair and bright eyes, vaguely looked like Seraphina; paired with that of Romain, with his blue-black hair and cold blue eyes, bore resemblance to Alexios, was not what Lachlan wished to hear. He swallowed, yet Declan was right to point out the similarities. A hare-brained virtuous girl with more lip than sense, and a stubborn, stone-hearted man with limited temper yet limit-defying power. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

“Allya’s a good girl,” Lachlan said, though his voice shook. “For all her, eh… well, she’d never betray Romain for Alexios.”

After Declan left, Lachlan found sleep. It was dreamless, for which he was thankful, till a point there was. He smelt a scent as delightful to his senses as mulled cider and warm mince pie. He nosed closer to this mysterious ambrosia, burrowing his face against something pleasantly solid and warm. He was dimly, subconsciously aware of someone’s hand stroking his thick, wavy hair, and so he purred himself back to sleep.

Previous

Rebecca Butler

Allya was not sure how long she had been out, but she was pulled into awakening by the first small rays of the sun that filtered through the window that she had not shut fully the night before. Yawning, and stretching a little, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Curious as to what this day would bring them all.

Smelling the bowl of chowder and hearing her stomach rumbling, Allya stood and went to sit at the table and began to eat. It was so good! Delicious and made with ingredients she had not tasted in so long. Some things were harder for her to find, when they had first found themselves in this world, to cook with and she and her mother, had had to adjust their tastes after a while; but this....was amazing and she ate it all, bread bowl too!

Once she finished her meal, she quickly changed clothes and headed downstairs to see if either Wren or Declan were awake. This place was strange to her and being what she was and how she had been raised, being in a new place was a little frightening at first. Wolves didn't move to a new territory unless they had to, and while she might not shift like her mother and brothers, she had been raised with them that way. Having never really left the cabin except to go to town when they had to and then finding themselves here....it had been an experience for sure.

"Hello?" She called out, as she stepped off the last stair, for it was seemingly quiet and still in the bar. Was everyone still asleep? Should she go back to bed?

Airyanna Dahlia

"Hail," a jovial voice called from the kitchen. A muscular young man with a boyish grin and soft-looking red hair stepped out into view. He was wearing an apron and had been bustling about doing chores. "I'm Marshall, one of the day cooks. You came last night, with Wren and Declan?" He asked rhetorically. "You're in good company. Declan's a great plumber, and Wren lived and performed here for ten years before she moved to the castle," he prattled on. He was completely oblivious of who he was talking to, not knowing that this such woman lived in the castle with Wren and Declan. "Can I get you something to drink?" He asked. "Dony will probably be asleep until noon."

Rebecca Butler

Turning at hearing the voice call out behind her, Allya turned and smiled at the muscular young man who stepped out into view and nodded at him. "Hello. Good morning." She replied with a small smile of her own. "Nice to meet you, Marshall. Yes, I did. It has been an interesting time for sure, travelling with Wren and Declan but it has been fun too. Seeing new places and meeting new people; and you are right, they are great people." She chuckled and went to sit nearby at the bar.

"I would be obliged for some water, or juice if you have any, please? Thank you." Allya nodded at his question. "When is breakfast usually served? I know I am up early, but I am still learning my way around." She chuckled again, smirking a bit.

She hadn't realized, herself, that she had yet to give her name. But she was enjoying speaking with Marshall and here could be a potential friend.

Airyanna Dahlia

Marshall poured her some water from the tap. Its source was an exceptionally clear lake said to have mild healing properties. Customers often left feeling better than they arrived if they chose to drink water, but few hardly did.

He set the water on a round, beaded coaster that depicted a small ship sailing through an orange sunset with sails tinted yellowish-orange. Then spread his hands. "Breakfast is served after the first customer comes in and makes an order," he said. "That's how we stay in business, mind. We're always open. It's me in the morning, Tanner joins me at noon. An older chap called Bram holds a literary salon in the early evening. Then Dony takes over at night. It's a beautiful operation. So, what'll you be having, Mrs....?" He was ready to cook anything she wished.

Rebecca Butler

"Thank you." She took the offered water and sipped it, marveling at the taste. It was so fresh, cool and crisp and it made her blink as she felt tingly all over. Her magic seemed to rise up a bit but not in a warding way, more like a welcoming way. This water, must have healing properties and she smiled as she took another few sips. "This is really good...for water." She chuckled softly.

Hearing how they started serving breakfast, she nodded as that made perfect sense. "I will be having some eggs, scrambled with cheese and a slab of bacon please, Marshall. Thank you." She smiled as she sat at the bar and sipped her water. "And the name is Peredhil...Allya Peredhil."

Airyanna Dahlia

"What do you normally drink?" Marshall asked. Wondering if there was something she usually drank besides water. He took out a tiny notepad from the leather satchel strapped to his waist and wrote down her order.

"Marshall O'Rourke. Glad to meet you, Allya," he said, holding out his hand and shaking her's firmly. "Breakfast is on the house since you're here with a handyman." Completely oblivious still that she also lived in the castle.

Rebecca Butler

"Ale, mostly. That my people make." She chuckled softly. "Or beer, or rum...whatever is available. But this water tastes amazing. I haven't had water this refreshing since back in Rivendell!"

"Pleasure to meet you too, Marshall. Thanks for the chat and the drink." She took his hand and shook it politely, before dropping it and took a moment to really look around. "Oh, well thank you! Declan is a good egg, isn't he? He and Wren are some awesome people. I am glad I get to get out of the castle and see the sites and meet the people of this world. I haven't been out in a while since my family and I found ourselves here."

Airyanna Dahlia

Marshall smiled at her. "We take alot of pride in the quality of our food and drink here," he said. "I don't think we have imported ale, but we do have rich elf-made wine." He poured her a glass of ale and a sample cup of wine so that she could see which one she liked better.

He went to begin prepareing brakfast for her. Before long, the sizzling bacon danced on the skillet, releasing its tantalizing aroma that filled the tavern.

"Declan's the best," Marshall agreed, giving her a thumbs up. "Compared to my handy work, he's much more skilled. It's because the things that he fixes, knows that he loves them. People think of inanimate objects as not being alive, but that's a missed perception. Things can tell when you're mad at them because your energy shifts and they get scared or angry and don't want to work as well."

Marshall's skilled hands cracked open the eggs, their bright yolks cascading into a bowl. Whisking them vigorously, he added a splash of milk to create a velvety texture. As the yellow mixture hit the hot pan, it transformed into fluffy curds, swirling and intertwining with melted cheese. The vibrant colors merged, creating an appetizing mosaic.

"Wren's also the best," Marshall nodded. "We've been friends forever. A lot of people thought she died after she wasn't at her home anymore when my wife and I got married, but I knew she was still alive. Then I came here and here she was. Cinda says she's working for the king. Not the human king of Sorlian, but the over-king of the country. Romain. I think Declan works for him too. Oh." He thought for a minute what she had said. "But you're staying in the castle. You've probably met him."

With a swift flick of his wrist, Marshall expertly flipped the bacon, revealing its crispy perfection. The harmonious symphony of flavors wafted through the air as he plated his masterpiece. Each bite offered a delectable combination of creamy eggs, gooey cheese, and smoky bacon—a culinary triumph that delighted both the taste buds and the soul.

As he served it up to her he said, "Tell me about your family."

Rebecca Butler

Allya was enjoying the conversation with Marshall. He seemed like a very well-liked and knowledgeable man and his food, was simply amazing! When he served her her meal and she took that first bite, she nearly melted with delight.

"Marshall, this is simply amazing! What you do with food...magic." She giggled as she dove into her meal, taking a sip of both ale and the elvish wine, before she decided on the wine. I was sweet, and savory all at once and it reminded her of home.

"Yea...Yea, I have...met, Romain." She said softly and then quickly let the matter drop. If he didn't know her from her name alone, like everyone else seemed to, she wanted to keep it that way. She didn't want to be judged solely on that man's name alone.

"My family? ohhh...well, we are elves. Or at least half." She chuckled softly as she continued to eat. "We come from a place called Rivendell, and it's just my mother and my two brothers, Armand and Rheagal." She smiled faintly. "Armand is the more studious of us. He loves to read, write and he is good to have in a diplomatic situation should it ever call for it. Rheagal, he is...I guess...the muscle, if you will. Big, strong, but doesn't really think before he acts, which leaves me, mostly, to get him out of trouble." She smirked a bit as she took her bread and smeared in in her eggs, scooping them up and eating them.

"Mother is a healer, and she has taught me the most in that aspect. That's what I wanted to be at first, a healer and I am good at it, but I now prefer to work more with animals. They just like me." She smiled up at him as they conversed.

By this time, Declan had long been finished with repairs and was catching some rest in an empty room at the inn. Listening discretely to the conversation below as it drifted in his sharp ears as he cat napped.

Cinda's room was at the end of the hall, Wren's to the left and Dony's to the right. All were sleeping peacefully during this conversation as it was "early" for them.

Marshall beamed with pride at her praise and he did a theatrical bow with twirling the wrist of the arm under his chesst. "We aim to please." He noticed that she decided on the wine and poured her a full glass of wine. He gently took the ale and downed it himself. Waste not, want not.

Her soft reluctants at the name of their King was not anything new to Marshall. Romain was not the most popular man and in some more daring parts of the country, people boldly had tried to assassinate him. Fialing, of course. "I don't think we've had the honor of serving him here," Marshall said. "What's he like?" He asked, being curious. He assumed Romain was nice enough to guests at the castle... he surly wasn't always the pure tyrant that people thoguht.

Marshall's ears perked as the woman so casually described herself of Halfling descent. She really wastn't from around here. He was greatful that the tavern was mostly empty... nobody took to kindly to halflings and, while Cinda and Dony had a no-violence rule in the bar, it wasn't easy for one man alone to enforce.

He grinned as he listened to her talk about her family. "Your family sounds great." Leaning on the bar with his chin resting in his hand. He'd probably like meeting them. "I'm the muscle of my friends," he confided. "Bram is studious, like Armand. Cinda's our diplomat. We don't have a healer per say, but Wren played nursemaid to my wife, my sister, and me when we were little." He tilted his head. "Tanner's probably the animal guy," he said after a minute of thought.

A soft giggle escaped Allya at Marshall's playful bow and she nodded in return. She liked him immediately, she decided. He seemed rather upbeat and it was nice, to have someone who seemed so open to converse with. She was just taking another bite of food when he asked her about Romain and she froze for a few seconds, before taking that bite and finishing it.

"Well---Romain is---he's---" She stuttered, not really sure what to say. "He's an interesting character, that is for sure." She smirked a bit as she took the offered wine with a nod of thanks and drank deeply from it before setting it down with a sigh. "He really isn't so bad, least, I don't think so. He's got some quirks, sure, but so do we all. I rather like him." She blushed a bit and bit her bottom lip to keep herself from saying anything more.

"And thank you. My family is wild, weird and boisterous at the best of times, but I love them." She listened as he mentioned each of his friends and smiled softly. "I would love to meet these friends of yours. They sound like an interesting group for sure."

Marshall nodded and was satisfied. Most people were interesting he had found, if not all people. He did not know all people so he could not make such a judgement categorically, but all people that he had met interested him. He noticed that the maiden blushed as she said that she liked him. "He's a handsome fellow," Marshall acknowledged, "so I have heard. And charming, easy to like if he's not ordering your village burnt to the ground." Such a thing was normal. This part of Sorlian, luckily enough, had been spared by the skin of its teeth. Marshall fancied not the prospect of him and his friends being out of jobs and worse, out of homes.

There had been a battle here, several years ago. Marshall and his friends had been of an age to fight, but had not taken part in the battle. They weren't warriers, merely average citizens who stayed out of politics unless it affected them.

It was funny that she should say she wanted to meet Marshall's friends for at the moment that she said it, a tall man strode in. He had sandy hair that was lightened by the sun and dark blue eyes, fair skin, and arm muscles for days. He smiled easily and you could tell when he walked into the room that he could command the presence of all in it. He strode up to the bar and casually knocked on it. "Who's the new girl?" he asked.

Marshall gestured between them. "Tanner, this is Allya from Rivendell. Allya, this is Tanner from Sorlian."

"Hail, Allie," said Tanner, having misheard the woman's name. "How you doing?" To Marshall he said, "Before I forget, there'll be a cow in later, fresh. I'm trying to get Kitty to accept the hide."

Marshall shook his head, bemused, and turned back to Allya. "This guy's been with his girl for five years and still not proposed, can you believe that?"

Tanner shrugged one shoulder as he leaned against the bar. "It's not my style to be tied down," he explained. "If she hasn't changed her mind by evenfall, I'll just sell it," he said about the hide. "Dony'll be needing all the support he can get if he's thinking about usurpation." He said it so casually, believing that there wasn't anyone else awake in the tavern.

|| For the past few months, my friend scarluxia and I have been collaborating on this compelling ship between our muses. They are not strictly RP, we wrote sections that gave birth to other sections, consulted with each other and beta'ed for each other. Yet it may not appear as one smooth style through-out, but I tried my best to put our ideas together. It contains 90% navel-gazing and exposition, 10% smut. ||

(4/26/23) He'd been noticing her more lately. Her effortless affection with just about everyone at the castle. For it wasn't only him she embraced. She was, as a person, cuddly in the extreme. It made him uncomfortable, but only because he had to stop himself melting into her easy embrace.

Some of his soldiers had, he saw, tried to take advantage of her affection. Their hands wandered. She whispered something in their ears and most of them backed off. Some, did not. He did not like that; it would distract them from their duties.

Lachlan, ever vigilant and protective, had noticed his eyes on her. He had discreetly mentioned the secret about her body. Romain found that it made no difference to him, though it did explain the way she dressed. He wondered, who else knew? Mayhap he could offer to change it with magic. If she was wishing it.

(4/27) One night, Serena fell asleep at dinner and found herself chained in the dungeon. She still had on her dress, but hands roamed her body, squeezing and kneading the curve of her rear, which was bare under her skirt seeing that Lachlan didn't let her wear her special under garment. A tingle was there as Romain used magic to disappear anything he didn't want inside of her. He slicked himself with oil and maneuvered his way inside. Eyes blowing open at the sensation. She was shackled in a standing position all but dangling from the ceiling. Yet he was the one who felt trapped, as if in a vise. He could all but feel his brain shorting out as he began moving on instinct alone.

Instincts he knew not that he had. Squeezing her posterior again. Roaming his hand to her front, stroking, fondling, intimate places she let only Lucifer and mayhap Lachlan touch. He hadn't asked. He felt her body stiffen and arch as he none-too-gently pulled her into awakening. She tried to pull down her arms. He sensed her growing more alert.

"Mm?" she said, tugging at the chains, then, "Are you allowed to do this?"

He chuckled darkly as he leaned forth and murmured, "I'm allowed to do anything I wish."

Serena gasped. "Your Grace!"

"That's right.... I know what you've been doing with my soldiers," he fished.

A moment passed where Serena's groggy brain tried to process what he meant. Then when she thought she understood, she said, "Is it the sex or the money you object to?"

Money? It took Romain a moment all his own to remember what Serena must have meant. Lachlan had told him she used to live in a club where she exchanged sex for money.

"Serena, tell me you haven't been embezzling from my army."

He could all but feel her smirking. "I'll tell you whatever you want to hear," she breathed, tipping her head back onto his shoulder. They were the same height and he liked how her soft hair tickled his bare skin. Almost enough to forgive her sass. He squeezed where he was holding, eliciting a sound he'd never heard from her before. Only slightly was it lower than he was used to from her voice, a sound between pleasure and pain. Romain grinned and squeezed harder. Serena rubbed the back of her head against Romain's shoulder as she arched her back. He could hear how hard she was breathing now.

"Do you love me?" Some wild impulse thrust the question from his lips as their bodies fell into rhythm together. She tensed, wondering if this was some test. He relished how good it felt when her body tightened so.

"You're my King," was the answer she gave after some internal deliberation.

It wasn't the answer Romain wanted. He let it go, this could be interesting.

"Would you do anything for me?" he asked next.

"Within reason," was the next unsatisfactory reply.

(4/28) Lachlan had once told him seduction was a powerful tool he could use to make people want to do his bidding without coercion or threats. How interesting, he would have to test that out. He hadn't seen how it could be so at the time but his General did seem more open now. More malleable. He liked that. He paid attention to how she reacted to every move he made and congratulated himself for soundproofing the dungeon; she was vocal about her pleasure. Her body had ways of begging for his touch, feeding his ego and milking pleasure out of him. He wanted it, more and more and more, until he shook uncontrollably and everything within him seemed to tighten and explode.

(5/04) Serena had read his body and, whether by experience or instinct, had intuited what Romain needed to feel. He wondered- for she hadn't climaxed yet- if he could bring her that amount of pleasure, too. One hand moved roughly under her skirt while his other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him and keeping her close even as her back arched. Wails of pleasure turned to keening and then she too was shaking in his arms.

When she'd caught her breath, he whispered in her ear, "Do you love me?"

"Yes," she moaned.

"Would you do anything for me?"

"Ah... don't- don't ask me to kill anyone else I love."

"Other than that?" He applied pressure with the hand under her skirt.

"A-ah! Yes- oh, Romain- anything!"

When they'd started, she'd addressed him as a King. Now, she addressed him as a man. He would expect the intimacy to make him uncomfortable, as it did from others who fancied him, but for once it did not. He realized with a start that he liked it. He began to understand why someone would pay for such an experience.

"I'm going to unchain you now, and you're going to come to bed with me," he purred in her ear.

"But my skirt- it's a mess-"

"Leave it," he commanded. "It'll get wetter before the night is out."

She nodded, eager to experience more pleasure at his hands. He unchained her and teleported them to his bedchamber.

True to his word, they were both sweating, mewling, come covered messes before the night turned to dawning. Romain had never known he could feel like this.

***

(5/05) Though he was a calm and collected strategist during battle, Romain was prone to flying into rages when things didn’t go his way at home. His horrid temper kept many a soldier in line. Even Serena knew not to sass him, though she couldn’t help noticing how beautiful he was in those moments. She normally wasn’t attracted to “pretty” men, but Romain exuded power and charisma. He not only gave her a true place in the world, he encouraged her to kill for him. She’d only admit it when he asked, but she loved him, for that and more.

(6/08) After the night they’d spent together, Serena had moved from the suite she’d shared with Lucifer and Lachlan into Romain’s own chambers, at their King’s command. More often than not, they awoke pressed together in the remnants of a passionate embrace. Yet if this softened him at all towards her, he made the utmost effort not to show it. Together, she and Lachlan had finally succeeded in showing him what influence pleasure could exert over a person. Thus he consented to bringing such pleasure unto his troops, in a manner most curious. Serena, her husband Lucifer, and Romain’s own personal guard Lachlan were the only ones allowed to touch Romain’s body. Everyone else experienced dark tendrils borne of his magic, which sought and caressed their targets’ erogenous zones. Romain himself remained cool and impassive until the deed was done, experiencing no other pleasure than the smug satisfaction that his soldier would be ever so much more devoted to him afterwards.

Thus did Serena become the leader of the first Imperial harem.

(6/17) Despite the newfound and unique affection Serena was receiving, she was still severely mentally ill. There were days she had difficulty getting out of bed. On one such morning, Romain sat her up straight and told her, “Our army’s counting on you to lead them, my General.”

That seemed to snap her out of the world her mind had been trapped in. She looked at him, taking a moment to focus, then nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. I won’t let you down.”

Endeared by the fact that she used his title even when they were alone and the only person could overhear them was the captain of his guard, Romain spontaneously pulled Serena into his arms. He held her as long as she needed him to. When she released him, he kissed her cheek and got out of bed to ready himself.

There were other days when getting out of bed maybe was not so difficult, but her thoughts suddenly wandered in the midst of training and her control of her powers began to waver. Continuing relying on Lucifer would not do. Unpredictable control was a liability. On one such day, Romain strode into the fray and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “Focus!” he commanded her.

“I-I’m sorry,” she gasped.

He was surprised to see tears running down her cheeks. “Why are you crying?” he asked quietly, not wishing to draw more attention to the situation. “You have immense power, and in its use you have gained my respect and my fondness.” Far be it from him to admit being fond of her for other reasons, nor to admit he admired her. “We may discuss all this later, but for now, we must train. Battle is imminent. I….” A frown furrowed his brow as he hesitated. Should he say such a thing to her? “You’re too valuable an asset to risk. I… I’d rather not lose you,” he settled on such a phrasing.

Serena was shocked to her core at his admission. She nodded gravely and took a breath to center herself. As she did, feathered black wings burst from her back and flexed. The dark magic she used to control the demons of the army flowed effortlessly from her now.

Once training was over, Serena thanked Romain for his encouragement. He drew his sword and stopped her from leaving.

“You will spar with me,” he commanded. Before she could ask he explained, “Even if your power was completely stable, I do not wish you overly reliant on it. We will refresh your techniques in hand-to-hand and ranged combat.” He himself had not allowed mastery over every form of magic the land provided, keep him complacent to neglect his physical strength as well. He was lean, compact, every muscle on his body well-trained, lending him a certain balance, agility, and poise.

Serena beamed at him in utter delight. She loved any excuse to spend quality time with her King! She chose, therefore, not to tell him she was already proficient in ranged combat due to her love of guns.

Romain led Serena to a secluded training area, the sound of their footsteps muffled in the dense grass. He unsheathed two gleaming swords, their blades reflecting the light of the full moon. With unwavering focus, he demonstrated the fluidity of his movements, seamlessly transitioning from one strike to another. The swords became an extension of his being, as if they were merely an extension of his arms.

Serena watched in awe, absorbing every detail, as she admired his impeccable elegance. She mirrored his stance, her body poised and ready for action. She had always been able to pick up choreography easily, stemming from her earliest days as a cheerleader. Romain guided her patiently through each step, instructing her in the art of balance and precision. It was hardly needed, but she stayed quiet for once and allowed herself to be led. They danced together in a synchronized rhythm, their swords clashing and ringing out in perfect harmony. At the hour's end, Romain proclaimed that she was sufficient in dual swordsmanship and moved onto crossbow training.

Serena's familiarity with guns seamlessly translated into her usage of the crossbow. The precision and control she had developed while handling firearms allowed her to quickly adapt to the mechanics of the weapon, and she liked it very much. She was naturally attuned to the crossbow's mechanisms, effortlessly loading bolts and aligning her aim. Her experience with guns also instilled in Serena a keen sense of timing and accuracy. She knew how to position herself for optimal shots, utilizing cover and angles to her advantage. Her understanding of bullet trajectory and target leading transferred seamlessly to calculating bolt trajectories, allowing her to hit distant targets with uncanny precision. It was evident that her love for guns had not only honed her physical skills but also cultivated a sharp instinct for ranged combat. With each pull of the trigger-like mechanism, Serena unleashed bolts with remarkable speed and pinpoint accuracy, then lit up and did a little twirl of delight!

As Romain observed Serena's proficiency with the crossbow, he couldn't help but be impressed by her natural talent and adaptability. Did she actually just say, ‘Whee!’? he wondered with stark amusement.

“You didn't tell me you were so good with a crossbow," he accused.

She smiled innocently at him. "But, Your Grace, you didn't ask."

He let it go and he decided to test her proficiency with a regular bow and arrow. Her usage of that was not so different, although she made it clear to him that she preferred the crossbow. He knew already that she was not so bad with a throwing knife, either, having seen someone disrespect her and her responding by chucking a shuriken into their throat, as casually as twirling a pen between her fingers.

Serena and Romain then engaged in a flurry of hand-to-hand combat, their movements fluid and precise. Serena's background as a cheerleader gave her an unexpected advantage in hand-to-hand combat. Her years of dance training had honed her agility, flexibility, and coordination. As Romain launched his attacks, Serena effortlessly evaded his strikes with nimble footwork. She spun gracefully, her body a blur of motion as she executed a perfectly timed roundhouse kick. Her leg extended with lightning speed, aiming for Romain's midsection. Just as he lunged forward with a punch, Serena's foot connected with his abdomen, sending him sprawling backward, momentarily stunned by the force of her attack. She countered many of his attacks with such lightning-fast kicks and punches, each movement executed with the same fluidity she displayed on the cheerleading field, easily demonstrating she knew how to synchronize movements and maintain perfect timing.

Romain, for this training session, relied on his strength and brute force, delivering powerful blows that shook the air around them. His fine-tuned muscular training gave him an advantage in close-quarters combat... as did his beauty; she was far more easily distracted by good looks than he was. They danced around each other, their bodies moving in perfect sync as they exchanged blows, blocks, and counters. The sound of impact echoed through the air as their limbs collided with bone-shaking force. Neither was willing to back down, fueled by their competitive spirits. At a time or two, Romain even forgot that he was supposed to be training her, and fought her for the sheer thrill of it! In this intense sparring session, Romain admired her skill and tenacity, pleased that she was not just proficient with weapons but also formidable without them.

Their stamina was evenly matched, which surprised Serena, who had always been frail as a child. In some ways, she was still getting used to the added physical prowess her feather gave her. She wasn't as strong as, say, Trent, who could lift and carry about a ton and a half without flinching. But the fact that she could hold her own against a half-elven warrior was astounding.

After hours, they stood on shaking legs, neither of them wanting to call quits, yet neither of them having the strength to lift their weapon another inch. One look at Romain told Serena that he was just as stubborn as she. Respectfully preserving his dignity, she dropped her flail clumsily to the side and said, "I'm tired, Your Grace. May I take a bath now?"

Was she really going to fold so easily? He would have ended the session after just one more round... if neither of them had collapsed in the process. He scoffed and sheathed his sword. "You may," he said. He snapped his fingers and added in a slightly louder voice, "Lachlan will escort you."

Lachlan was Romain's personal guard, but he had been nursing a crush on Serena since they'd met. He eagerly went fast to her side, scooped her up earning a gleeful giggle, and zoomed them off to Lachlan's chambers to bathe her. Assuming that, since Romain had not suggested they all go together, he did not mean to bathe her in his own suite.

Indeed, Romain bathed by himself this evening, contemplating many things that weighed heavily on his mind. A tale, mayhap, for another time.

***

(6/25) The only ones allowed access to Romain’s body were Lachlan, Serena, and sometimes Lucifer. Lachlan had proven himself trustworthy after years of acting as Romain’s Captain of the Guard and his personal shield. Serena and Lucifer were foreigners, but she at least was unfailingly loyal to him, and Lucifer was romantically connected with both Lachlan and Serena.

Romain asked Serena her opinion on the politics of the land one day. Whom did she fancy as ruler? Himself, his sister, or someone else?

She stared at him as though he were the alien. “I don’t care about politics,” she said. “I care about you. I’ll do anything to help you keep your crown.”

In a harsh battle days later, she proved her words. She threw herself between Romain and a burst of light magic that was going to hit him. Those new wings of hers had spread like a shield. They had absorbed the magic; she processed it and used it to heal the injuries Romain had sustained thus far in the battle. Yet even though she’d broken her concentration, the demons they had recruited and trained remained loyal and focused. Even knowing she did not possess the power to destroy them if they stepped out of line.

Lucifer did, yet he was not present for this such battle.

Romain’s troops won the battle in the end, as they usually did these days. He waited until he and Serena were alone in their chambers, and then the smoldering heat within him burst forth in a torrent of passion….

(6/30) Her love for him was tangible in every touch. It was the same he’d felt when she’d healed him. It discomfited him in ways he could but attempt to fathom.

His troops loved him. Many of his soldiers were devoted enough to die for him, yet would they personally push him out of harm’s way with any other motive than knowing it would be the end of their cushy lifestyle were their King to die? Would they have taken time to heal him, or would they have assumed he could hold his own?

She’d healed him without a second thought. Without remembering he was capable of healing himself should he wish to do so. She was a foreigner with no stake in the ongoing battles of his country except him.

He had felt it when she healed him and he felt it in her sweet caresses now, as she roamed her hands exploring his body. He was no conquest for her, no bragging rights to say that someone had categorically bedded Romain Bishop. He was something precious to her. On a purely personal level.

That warm, healing tingle seeped from her embrace to his own flesh, sinking deep beneath the surface. Through muscle, through bone, through arteries and veins. To the very remnants of his heart and soul. Warming him from the outside in and back again.

He grinned as he pulled her yet closer, burying himself to the hilt inside her, his silky black hair tickling her shoulder as her curly blond hair tickled his. Giving himself over to the pleasure, the ecstasy, nay, the very bliss that emanated from her flesh mingled with his. Here was a woman who was playful, flirtatious, and easily aroused- his opposite in many ways. Yet they shared the same goal, the same priority: Keep Adornia under Romain’s heel at any cost. To that end, she took initiative and made herself as useful to him as possible. Requesting no luxury except not to be turned out. Offering no needless opinions of how he ran this world of his.

Asking so little, in fact, that he was downright flabbergasted when she’d said, during an earlier meltdown, that “everyone” thought she wanted too much. That “they” considered her needy and high-maintenance. He’d been dumbstruck for once in his life, unable to offer any response to her wailings.

As they writhed together now, as close as possible and moaning with delight, as thee thoughts coursed through his restless head, he was seized with a sudden fire. A sudden urge to revenge all the ugly lies she’d been fed.

If he had shared this resolution with Serena, she’d have tried to laugh it off and tell him there was no need. She was getting better. Her episodes were far less frequent and she had astonishing control over her power now. As far as Serena was concerned, Romain had saved her life. Pledging herself to his service come hell or high water was the least she could do to repay him.

She’d never expected it to lead to this.

Oh, she’d flirted with him plenty: easy, effortless banter, the same as Lachlan and Lucifer did with basically everyone they met. He’d been a bit nettled at first, but he’d tolerated it well enough, when he clearly had the power to order her to stop. She’d carefully skirted the line between cheeky and crass, always addressing him by his title, never lingering once he’d dismissed her. Truth be told, she’d always felt a bit smug seeing other women in the castle—soldiers and staff alike—rebuffed after painfully clumsy attempts to flirt with the King. She felt even more-so now that she was regularly in his bed.

Being allowed to be so close, to be invited to open herself for him, to be held tightly in his arms and then personally washed clean by His Grace while he allowed her to do the same… it was the greatest privilege imaginable. More than that, he did what no-one else in her life had ever one, not even her beloved Luci: He allowed her to devote her entire life to him, and rewarded her for doing so. For the first 31 years of her life, she’d done everything she could to make Trent happy, given him absolutely everything she could, molded her life around his needs… and in the end, it had been for absolutely nothing. They were barely even friends anymore. Then, when she’d found out she produced blood that was special to a certain vampire, she’d been elated… only to be bitterly disappointed and heartbroken when he’d refused to accept her for what she was, when he’d failed to treat her as the most valuable thing in his life. She hated him now.

And Luci? He’d been infatuated with her the first time he’d seen her, but even he tried to scold her and mold her. He also insisted she was worth more than throwing her life at his feet.

But Romain? Romain accepted her, encouraged her, praised her, even, for doing things her pearl-clutching former friends had deemed horrific. She was free to dispose of anyone who wouldn’t bow to the King. She was encouraged to use her magic to tame and recruit demons. She’d lain her life, her every ounce of devotion, at His Grace’s feet, and once he’d understood that her only motive was to belong somewhere, he’d accepted her freely.

She loved him for it, and she expressed it every time they were alone together. There was no inch of him she hadn’t explored and—surprisingly—vice versa. That was another thing she loved about him: He didn’t care what her body looked like. He didn’t treat her as a pretender or a freak. He liked her for herself, and he neither fetishized nor acted repulsed by what was under her skirt.

***

"I could change you," he offered one early morning, catching his breath. They lay in bed as a haze misted through the trees outside. "With magic. Your body, if you wish it."

He got the impression of a lost little lamb when she stared at him with sea-like eyes.

"Does... my body displease you?" she asked haltingly, suddenly self-conscious. Confusing him.

“Of course not,” he said, almost scoffingly. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you unless you wanted me to.”

She looked as if she hardly dared believe such a thing. “I, I like going back and forth between personalities,” she explained. “There’s Sebastian, the high-powered business tycoon married to Lucifer… and then there’s Serena, the party girl and ruthless general.” She smiled secretively at him. “You know, I’ve considered garnering a legal identity for her. Lucifer knows a guy. So I could truly be two different people and categorize my life as I see fit.”

Cogs turned. “Would the categorized Serena have a surname?” Romain queried.

She giggled. “It’s kind of a requirement.”

“Take mine,” he whispered, ocean blue eyes holding those of sea green. “You belong to the Crown now, with Lachlan’s and my personal endorsement.” A breath. As if there was something he dared not say. Lamb-like eyes as fathomless as the sun-kissed sea stared at him. Daring him to empty his mind into the narrow space between them. He went ahead with it: “Sign your name as Serena Bishop, and there shall be less paperwork required in the long run should you eventually become my Queen.”

The sea-like orbs widened yet further, threatening to drown him if he did not pull back, yet how could he when he had come this far and said such a brazen thing?

"I, I can’t produce you an heir,” she stammered, thinking of objecting. He would have none of it.

“I have a daughter,” he reminded her, “and no desire for more children. I expect longevity, but should I perish before my time, Samine shall inherit, and you and Lachlan shall advise.”

“Are you- proposing to me?” Serena breathed. Her face broke out in a slow grin and she wrapped her arms around him once more. “Ask me after lunch, when you’ve a clear head. Only I don’t want your regrets later.”

He held her close. “I could never regret you, my dear General.”

And so that day, he did show her some magic she could use to make slight aesthetic alterations to her form, but only if she wanted to.

***

Every night now, they held each other close, whispered secrets like kisses between them, shared actual kisses, and lavished attention on every part of each other’s bodies they could reach. Neither of them needed to say the words they both knew to be true.

What good are words when a smile says it all?

Current Mood: creative
Current Music: The Glory of Love by Peter Cetera

Airyanna Dahlia - "No, I've no dream to usurp Father's crown. I... | Facebook

"No, I've no dream to usurp Father's crown. I was merely trying it on for size."

Ralyn Telvanni Mültimüs

"Mmm I see, well don't worry. I won't be telling him a thing"

The figure in the doorway shifted to stand on both feet and slowly sauntered into the light. A new servant? Well for now that's how he chose to appear. Handsome roguish face, long dark brown locks to his shoulders pulled into a pony tail. Muscles of a soldier and a rough worn face. Yet he looked young, or perhaps not as young as her but young enough.

In his hand he held the pitcher of wine from the kitchens and nearing he picked up the goblet at the table normally meant for her and poured a fair amount into it before moving to offer it to her. "New shipment just in, sweetest they've had in some time if I do say so myself" He remarked as a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Airyanna Dahlia

"I appreciate it," Samine said to the servant. She quickly removed the crown. She waited for him to finish pouring the wine. "It smells divine," she remarked. She passed the wine to her taster to make sure it was harmless to drink.

Then she took off her father's crown and handed it to him. "I think this ought to be polished and returned to my father. Will you handle that for me, please?"

Ralyn Telvanni Mültimüs

"Of course princess" He purred in response as he took the crown from her hand. Briefly glancing to the servant who probably also thought the wine tasted devine. Poison? Of course not and the one tasting it at most would likely begin to feel warm and happy within the hour. However to the one who downed the whine in its entirety? Well to say the need for more would typically be strong and their mood would be a happy one only interested in a good time was an understatement. For his special brand he made himself was just that, meant to very much lure his victims into a trance for his own amusement. To be honest though with this girl it was less for his own amusement and more because he swore she needed to learn what a good time was. Not unshocking for a princess such as her and it likely wouldn't be the first or last he shared his potency with but never the less, it would be good for her, and most amusing for himself!

For now however she had to enjoy her first glass and relax, and he was soon turning to move off and away with the crown. Briefly eyeing the gems within smiling. Pretty thing, if he had need of such things. Certainly a fitting crown for her father, perhaps a bit awkward on the females head however. She needed something much more fine.

Once out in the hall he found the nearest servant and managed very convincingly to be clueless and handed it off to be taken up and cleaned. Unbeknownst to him however the male before him who'd taken it was as in disguise as himself and the crown was certainly not taken where it belonged however that's a tale for another moment.

For now he was left standing in the hall and wondering why he suddenly smelt the strong gag worthy scent of wet dog.

Airyanna Dahlia

Samine sipped slowly at her wine and ate of her curry whilst the man, who was a stranger to her eyes, left with the crown. Stranger though he was, he was a servant in her family's employ and she trusted him to bring back the crown polished and unmarred, as the other servants knew to do.

After a quarter hour she and her taster were giggling to each other and swapping tales about life before the castle and jokes about Romain. It could have been fatal, at least to the taster, if they were overheard by the wrong party, but Romain was in Daulim overseeing draconic mating with his own dragon, Ziranth. He would not be back until the morrow.

Airyanna Dahlia - Airyanna Dahlia added a new photo to the album:... | Facebook

Rebecca Butler

"Ohhhhh....My...." Syria found herself saying reflexively before blushing

Airyanna Dahlia

The Captain came to stand beside her as they gazed at the pictograph together. "In all my finery," he jested. "I had this painted awhile ago by an acquaintance of Mr. Smee's. Dashing, wouldn't you say? A credit to her craft."

Rebecca Butler

"Yes. Very dashing." Syria's words were soft as she tilted her head ever so slightly to smile up at James as he came to stand at her side. "Someone Mr. Smee knew? She was very good." She had an eye for art, of all kinds and was always interested in it, for humans seemed to be able to craft the world to their liking so easily. Mermaids didn't do things like that.

Airyanna Dahlia

"Aye, I'd have fancied having her aboard me ship, but for my sailors and their blasted superstitions. I was a younger scallywag back then, not willing to chance a mutiny. In the end, they bid their farewells at port. I made a secret oath that I'd return to that wee old port town so as they could be reunited once more." A wistful sigh left the Captain's lips.

Rebecca Butler

"That's sweet of you." Syria said softly, with a hint of a smile. "To make that oath, for Mr. Smee. He seems nice enough, and everyone deserves someone to make them happy."

She chuckled softly, for even though she believed that, now; her kind most certainly did NOT! They only believed in luring men to the depths only to eat them. Never had her kind found love with any other species but their own and sometimes not even then! Being a creature of myth, some just reproduced when they felt the need to. Very lonely, very boring, in Syria's opinion now.

"So, no women allowed on ship? Why is that a superstition? You would think a woman would bring good luck in some ways." She smirked a bit.

Airyanna Dahlia

"Aye, he's nice enough, and a good first mate at that." He pondered her words. "How so?" He asked. "Why would a woman be good luck any more so than a man?"

Then, to answer her question that she had asked, he said, "The origins of the superstition about lasses being bad luck aboard a ship is murky as the depths of Davy Jones' locker. Some reckon it stemming from ancient sailors' fear of disturbing the balance of nature, seeing as women be associated with fertility and land. Others attribute it to practical reasons, like lack of space and resources on board, making their presence an inconvenience." He paused. "Though again, that does not make much sense since men take as much space aboard a ship as does a woman."

Rebecca Butler

"Well...." Syria was caught off guard by Hook's question and chuckled. "Well for one, a woman is a homemaker at times and a fierce fighter at the best of them." She stated with a soft chuckle. "I, myself, can cook, as you have personally seen. Can make a little go a long way which is good on long voyages until land is reached, and we know things about medicine and lore of that nature that most do not. Even a ship's doctor could use a good nurse to help them out and to share knowledge with...." She trailed off, chuckling and shaking her head.

She listened as he spoke about the superstitions about having a woman on board and nodded slightly. "If woman be part of nature, and the seas are part of nature as well, wouldn't it be prudent to have one on board? Surely any woman who decides to take up with pirates knows how to defend themselves and to keep herself safe?" She tilted her head as she smirked up at him.

Airyanna Dahlia

In response he tilted his head and smirked down at her. Mirroring her expression in a way. He understood what she was trying to say and it showed. "Aye," he said, "there be a point to be made of what you just said." Nodding sagely.

Rebecca Butler

"Of course there is." She chuckled softly and turned back to the painting with a small hint of a smile. "It's just most men...MOST men, mind you, not all, that feel threatened by what most women can do...and vice versa." She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly to watch him out of the corner of her eye and smirked ever so faintly. "But you are not one of those men, are you James?" She teased a little bit, hiding a giggle.

"Do they?" Hook raised his eyebrows. "How many men have you known like that?" He asked teasingly instead of answering her question. Hiding his own smile behind his good hand as he pretended to smooth out his moustache.

"Several, in fact." She replied with a grin, chuckling softly. She had met only a few people since being on this cursed island, and not all of them she had made her presence known to if at all. The one ship that had found its way here before Jame's ship, had been filled with men who did not seek to respect the nature of the island and she had watched from the shadows all of their actions and could tell what type of men they were by that alone. She had stayed hidden from them, until they had left.

"How unfrotunate. Yes women can be formidable," he said remembering the crew that had left him shipwrecked here. "Yet there's no reason to fear them, any more then there's a reason to fear another man."

Rebecca Butler - Airyanna Dahlia "Omg! Romain! I found the... | Facebook

Rebecca Butler

"Omg! Romain! I found the perfect bed for whenever we have....well....hmmm...I mean..."

Allyas words got stuck in her throat when she realized she almost said when they would have kids. They hadn't even gotten that far yet, but the bed was so cute and totally child-like and Allya knew that was what she wanted, one day.

Airyanna Dahlia

They had just returned from Daulim and by all accounts, Zaranth had had a successful mating season.

"How thoughtful!" Romain could not hide his surprise nor delight. "Yes, once we collect the hatchling's of Ziranth's mates, I am sure they will enjoy this bed." He could imagine them kneading the fluffy 'scales' with their little claws. The image brought a rare smile onto his face. "It's even rainbow-colored, so no matter what color they are, it'll match their scales. You," he faced Allya still smiling, "really did think of everything."

Airyanna Dahlia - || I shall reply in comments. | Facebook

Rebecca Butler
"Full of forgiveness? For what?" Syria asked softly as she came to sit at Hook's side. Curious as she had been spending time with him and he had seemed to lapse into a world of his own for a moment.

Airyanna Dahlia

Captain Hook set down his silver goblet just as it was about to touch his lips. "Nay... I was not aware I had spoken alloud." He gestured with his hand that Syria should join him. "I was merely lost in thought. Think nothing of it."

Rebecca Butler

Syria tilted her head a bit at his reply, and her eyes furrowed, but she joined him at his request. Coming to stand just at his side. "You seemed to be far away for a moment." Her words soft as she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder lightly. "Where were you?"

Airyanna Dahlia

"Upon the sea again, the sea of my past which visits in my dreams," was his soft reply. His tone was yet more gentler with her then ever he had spoken in the past.

Rebecca Butler

At his reply, Syria smiled a smile so soft, and yet sad as she nodded, as if she understood. "You miss it? The sea?" She asked, already knowing the answer. "I miss it too....and it's so close." Here she turned her eyes away from him and turned to look out the window which overlooked the sea. She sighed, softly. Unaware that she did so. "So close.....and yet still unattainable." She uttered softly under her breath.

Airyanna Dahlia

Hook contemplated this. He was free to return to the sea. He had contacted a shipwright to repair the Jolly Roger and the repairs had been completed days ago. Yet something stalled him. He could pretend not to know what, but he did not wish to lie to himself. Here, there was no crocodile to fear. Here, there was a woman, lovely and warm. If he was to return to sea, he wished it to be with her, and he would abide no grumblings from the rest of his crew- who had built themselves their own homes on the island a safe distance from shore- about a woman onboard.

Yet something stayed her hand. He knew not what it was. They had never discussed it, him believing she would tell him when she was ready. It would seem that time had not yet come.

Was he not holding back as well? It was bad form to expect full and open honesty from her when he would not give her the same.

"I was just thinking, it may be time to forgive Bridget and her crew for shipwrecking me here. Our life together has not been dissatisfying." His eyes met hers. "What are your thoughts on the matter?"

Rebecca Butler

A soft and playful smile crossed Syria's face at James's words and she nodded a bit as if agreeing with him.

"In all honesty, I wasn't sure what to think or make of you....or your crew, at first. I have never really been, as you might say, a people person; and I have lived alone on this island for so long that I had grown used to it. Yet, I am glad you are here, for you are a most interesting hum---person, James. It has been not only fun but very enlightening as well."

She internally kicked herself at her slip-up. She knew he would catch it for he missed nothing. He was very perceptive, in all ways, she had learned and it was one of the things she liked about him...as well as one of the things she 'feared' about him as well. He would guess her greatest secret, in time, if she did not tell him first. Perhaps it was time? He was right, in a way, they had lived together and it had not been dissatisfying.

"Your ship has long been fixed, James, do you linger for a reason?" She questioned gently. Testing these new waters, for herself, with him. "If you do...then there might be something you should know...before any other decision is yet made."

Was she really going to do this? He was the first human she had ever come into contact with that she even remotely liked. But I'd he stayed, for her, then he had a right to know just what she was. Time for secrets was fast approaching both of them, to he over if his ship had been fixed and yet he was still here.

Airyanna Dahlia

James thought she had said that he was a person of most interesting humor. He could not disagree with that, by the contrary was right pleased that she saw him as a humorous sort of person. Few people got to see that side of him.

Intrigued by the statement that she made. A layer peeling back from this woman's mystery and he was eager to know what lay within.

"What shall you tell me, mysterious lady?" He asked with a serene smile.

Rebecca Butler

So he didn't catch her slip up of where she had almost called him a 'human' instead of the word 'person' that she used instead? That was good. But that was about to be moot anyway, considering his interest in her own words.

"Perhaps....I should show you, rather than explain?" She asked, looking at him and giving him a small smile to ease any worries he might have at those words. "Come with me? Please?" She asked, taking hold of both his hand and his hook alike and giving a small tug.

There was a spot, just on the beach where a rather large rock crested into the sea. It was there she would lead him too, if he would but follow.

Airyanna Dahlia

"Aye, show me," did he repeat as he returned her smile and stood up and allowed her to lead him where she would. When they approached The Rock he looked at it and then her and then back at the Rock and then back at her. Wondering what it was that she was trying to show him.

"Yes?" He asked In delicate tones. So as not to spook her.

Rebecca Butler

There was a small indention within the rock that let in sea water, but was still technically on land so Syria wouldn't be breaking the rule not to go into the actual ocean if she did this. Walking out to it, everything in her warred within her. To do it, to not do it.

Sighing at his curious expression, she went behind the rock to shield herself from him as she swiftly removed her pants, setting them aside and then stepping into the water. The change was almost instantaneous! One moment, she was a normal human being, and the next, she had a blueish-green mermaid tail, that flapped lightly within the small pool.

Swimming slowly out from behind the rock, the pool was shallow enough that James could see all of her, but she hoisted herself up back onto the rock, flicking her tail slightly, as she watched him for his reaction.

Hook took a step back, almost stumbling upon a rock the size of his ankle behind him. He cought himself before he could take damage. "What sorcery is this?" he asked. His tone curious and wonderous.

Seeing James startle, Jasmine blushed and averted her eyes. She didn't feel ashamed, per say, but it wasn't far off from it. It was an emotion she wasn't familiar with and that bothered her.

"It isn't sorcery, James." She said softly, allowing her eyes to slowly flick back to his. "this is---what I am. I told you I was different...." She didn't know what else to say and never had she felt like running away more and just disappearing. But she couldn't, for she couldn't go into the sea, and she had to wait to dry off for her tail to disappear, so she was stuck. Stuck waiting to see which way his inital reaction would go.

"You are," James said. "Different. But," he appraoched her and tilted a hand under her chin. "That's not a bad thing. I've met mermaids before, but they had always been in the water so I did not know that they could grow legs and walk on the land." He looked at her with curiosity. She was so beautiful, her blue scales shimmering in the light. He could not help the small smile that crested his face up on gazing upon her form.

Current Music: Like a Prayer by Madonna

Previous

A few days later appeared Marcello and Erica. They both looked ragged from days of travel, it was clear Gildge had bade them come as quickly as possible. Erica's blue tunic looked gray, torn in some places with brambles, smudged with dirt, and her blond hair was a tangled mess. Marcello had lost his shirt entirely and his hair had brambles stuck in it. Gildge met them at the border into the village, bade them wash in his very own home, and when they had cleaned themselves and donned clean clothes did he take them to Aunt Eileen to meet Armand and Allya.

Marcello's eyes narrowed as he recognized Allya. He was about to protest when Erica laid a hand on his arm.

"The message said that we are to hear them out," she reminded him.

"How do we know she's not a spy?" Marcello asked. He had fought Romain toe to toe before, the only people who hated him more were Will Drown of the Red Hand Clan and mayhap Erica herself.

"Shurk would have thrown the both of them out if they were spies," Erica replied reasoningly. She smoothed her borrowed dress and sat on Aunt Eileen's large corner-shaped sofa. Marcello grudgingly follow suit. Allya WAS the daughter of his own paramour, it couldn't hurt to much to hear her out could it?

"Why did you want to meet?" Erica asked. Getting right to the point.

Rebecca Butler

Allya was a but surprised to see.Marcello arrive with Erica, even more so to see the way he looked at her and soke about her. He was dating her mother! He should know better, were her own thoughts; but she pushed them aside and turned her attention to the new woman before her, Erica.

She was very pretty, and had a regal bearing about her. Allya liked her immediately!

"We have come to try and forge an alliance, my Lady, with our homeland of Rivendell and yours...as well as with Shurk's clan, or any others who would do so." Armand said politely. He had noticed Marcello's look at his sister too.

"We are here on our mothers bidding and not anyone else's." He said pointedly.

Airyanna Dahlia

Erica had been thrown out of her village for being a halfling at the age of five years. She was a princess only due to her brother's title, which he had taken by force. She did not consider herself a princess or a leader or even a Lady at all, and led only out of necessity because someone had to fight against her tyrant of a brother who wanted to subjugate all the races.

Yet she heard out the young man. "You want to add the forces of this... Rivendell, to the forces my friends and I are gathering?" She wanted to make sure she heard that correclty. It was true that they could use all the help they could get. "Who is your mother?"

Marcello cleared his throat. "She's the woman I'm seeing," he replied quiety. "Becca. It's my understanding that she's a noblewoman in Rivendell. She has a good heart," he tried to explain. "But even *if* Allya takes after her, she's still dating your brother."

Erica's gray-blue eyes blew open with surprise. "My brother- dating?" She echoed, completely flabbergasted and it showed. Her mouth hung open, but no further words came out. She felt a knot form in her stomach and her heart rate quickened. She couldn't believe it- Romain and Allya? Romain and *anyone*? Erica struggled to compose herself as she tried to process the information. Her mind raced with questions and doubts. She had not known WHY Marcello seemed to dislike the young woman on sight, only that he had felt hostile and she had needed to step in before the meeting even began.

"Sorry," Gildge apologized. "We didn't think you'd come if we explicitly told you that Romain's woman was here. You'd think it was a trap."

"Isn't it?" Marcello asked before he could stop himself.

Shurk faced him square-on. "Would I do that to you?" He demanded.

Erica stood and held her hands up out of habit. She hated seeing people fighting, especially if they were supposed to be on the same side. "We don't have time for infighting right now," she said. "We promised to hear them out. Even if this information is- surprising- the least we can do is keep our word." Even as she said these words, her arm was tensed, ready to draw the blade she had hidden up her sleeve in case of trouble. It would be better if this could be resolved peacefully, but if it couldn't, she was ready to be prepared.

Shurk looked like he was going to growl or argue, but instead he went to sit at his desk. "Look, Allya and her brother both insist that she's loyal to her family before any man she's with. Why don't we learn a little bit more about that family before judging her... decisions?"

Marcello ran a hand through his long black hair as he relaxed his posture on the couch. "Okay, tell us about Rivendell," he said.

Rebecca Butler

"I am NOT Romain's woman!" Allya actually snapped suddenly, feeling the tension in the room deepen once Erica realized who she was, and added her fear and hesitation to the mix. It angered her that people saw only her ties to the man she loved, and not her, for herself. Just because she was dating Romain, did not mean that she agreed with him on his policies 100%, sometimes she was even confused with why and how he did things, or said the things he said. Like he was this....weird conundrum. A puzzle she was determined to solve.

"I am my own self, with my own thoughts and ideas. I am loyal to my family above all else, for my mother is the one who gave me life. We are here on HER mission, nothing more, nothing less and anything said here today is simply that. Between us." She fumed a bit, scowling as she looked away for a moment. Marcello having spit that it might have been a trap, simply because she was there, hurt...but she was trying not to show it.

"Just because I am dating Romain doesn't mean that I tell him everything!"

"Allya..." Armand said softly, reaching out to put a hand on hers, trying to help her settle. He knew how all were feeling, but this was his sister, and he vouched for her. He didn't like the judgement either, but he understood. Allya seemed to calm a bit and nod at Erica and her brother, letting Armand lead for now. He was the more diplomatic of the two.

Armand took a deep breath and looked back at Erica and Marcello, as he began talking and describing their homeland. It was the Last Homely House of the Sindarian Elves. It was a vast and majestic place, fully protected by their grandfather, Elrond. With the way he ran things, there was a sense of peace and tranquility but they were know to be fierce fighters and had the best Blacksmiths and Forgers in the Lands of both Humans and Elves. They had mountains that produced their minerals for making the things like shields and weapons that they used in battle and were very rich in minerals and food, and things needed in every day life. He tried to explain the way their Grandfather ran things, but Allya had to smirk as she remembered how that conversation had gone between her mother and Romain. He had thought her crazy or their people drugged, but she kept her mouth shut and let Armand handle it.

Airyanna Dahlia

"Oh, you've broken up?" Marcello asked with relief at hearing she was not Romains woman. Yet it was of course not as simple as that now was it? He hoped she wasn't Anglin to be queen because she was going about it all the wrong way... If they weren't broken up now, mayhap the would be soon, and her for the ditches.

Pursing his lips. "You don't need to tell Romain everything," Marcello said. "He has his ways of knowing. He's the most powerful and ruthless mage in all the land, that's how he seized the throne in the first place, and-"

"And we are working to undo the damage his rule has caused," said Erica firmly. "I don't know what you're doing with him, but I used to think he was a good man too. Before I knew we were related, I heard that he had kindness to Halflings and other Exiled. Two devastations of villages I lived in and one face to face meeting with him were enough to tell me otherwise. You shouldn't underestimate him." Her words firm yet kind.

Gildge thought Allya was a fool for not realising that every woman in this world and every other was judged by her taste in men. She was expecting people to make the distinction between her individual personage and her role as the girlfriend of the man who tyrannized the world. Yet he kept mum as Armand spoke, taking in his words.

|| The conversation between Romain and Becca took place in an American AU. It's separate from the interactions here.

Rebecca Butler

"NO!" She shot back at Marcello, before pausing a bit. "Not yet...anyway..." She sighed, not wanting to talk about that or her doubts now. She knew Marcello might eagerly jump on that line of thought and she really didn't want to discuss it with him...or anyone right now.

She sat silently for the rest of the duration while Armand handled diplomatic things seemingly fluidly. Her thoughts lost in her own mind as she struggled to make sense of what was happening, what she had been told, and what she would eventually want in the end.

Airyanna Dahlia

Forging an alliance would be complicated business. Erica knew that they needed all the help they could get, but on the other hand, if Allya was indeed seeing Romain, who's side would she fight for? Armand insisted that Allya was loyal to her family. Yet breaking up with Romain for the sake of fighting a war against him would not be pretty. There was a reason he'd been able to seize power of the entire country at the tender age of seventeen, and it wasn't because he was in the habit of letting things go.

Erica invited Allya to somewhere quieter in the village to talk. She explained the past of her and Romain. They, and most every other halfling in the country, had been run out of their homes when it was discovered what they were. Yet they had reacted to it differently.

She explained that Erica had ben raised up as a child by the Elder of the elven city of Romley, never knowing her parents. On the day marking her figth year of existence- the earliest date that tradition allowed a child to be left on it's own- the Elder had led her deep into the forest and left her for dead. He would have killed her himself if tradition had allowed for one to kill someone born within the city. When the small child asked why and informed him that monsters roamed the forest and that she could not stay outside, he replied that she was worse than any monster. He explained that she was neither human, nor elf and that she should never have been born at all. If she died, it was her destiny. Nothing so horrible as her should be allowed life. With that he walked away, leaving the frightened child on her own.

She had lucked upon a human camp and been able to pass herself off as human, long enough to learn to fight. Every village they settled in, was set upon by Romain and destroyed. Once she had learned how to fight, she left her human caretakers and set out on her own as a traveling merchant. Selling the fur and bones of animals to survive.

Being Exiled was all Erica had known for her entire life. She was used to hardship and traveling from place to place. Used to death and destruction. It always bothered her, especially when she had had to bury the kindly woman who'd taken her in. That was when she herself had sworn to build up her own army and go up against Romain. She was 16 at the time and Romain, 26.

When Erica finished her explanation, she fell quiet and allowed for Allya to process this. There was also time for Allya to remember everything she had been told about Romain by his friends and enemies alike: about how he'd been raised as the heir to his human father, how at age 13 he'd been taught to fight and become a fearsome mage and swordsman in his own right. How he'd hungered for power even as a boy and how, barely a year after his training had begun, he was forcibly cast out, irrevocably changing him. Finding no one to sympathize with him at first, he grew increasingly angry and bitter. The bristling indignation he felt over being cast out grew into a seething hatred against his parents, against his village, and eventually against everything. He spent his days on physical training and whispering words into just the right ears, his nights filled with study and magical experiments. Over time he learned who was suffering, who had suffered, and above all who sought revenge. He grew more and more powerful, yet for each spell he learned he grew a little less careful of what the consequences where of using it, for every sword technique he perfected he grew a little less concerned with where and upon whom he used it. He determined that the world would change for him, and for no other, because no other had the backbone to change it themselves. It would be his iron hand that shaped the world, into a form pleasing to his own tastes. Eventually Dark creatures from all over the country began to flock to him, cajoled by his promises of acceptance within the world he would create.

When he was 17, with an army massive enough to shake the earth, Romain, the greatest mage in all the land, finally seized control of Adornia. No monarch from any of the individual races or city-states was strong enough to stand against him.

Going back inside, Erica resumed their discussion, as the men quieted down to allow her to speak.

This was why the rebel forces *needed* the help of Rivendell, but could Erica, in all good conscience, agree to such an alliance? And what would Allya do, now that she knew the history of both faction leaders?

The best-case scenario was that someone could somehow break through twenty-one years of hardened hatred and reach the heart of him. Convince him to lay down his arms and work together with his sister to restore the land, much of which was wrought with devastation, and build a country where discrimination was outlawed and only those who broke the law were subject to decimation by force. A country where no one would NEED to rebel against him. But, Erica pointed out, such a thing was all but impossible. Just a fleeting fancy. Yet mayhap... learning about the culture of a different elven land would convince him to at least pause the fighting for now? Romain hungered for knowledge; he had massive libraries in both his castles. Would it be possible to get him to listen, just for the sake of knowledge alone?

"But it would require us approaching the castle or any of his spies and messengers without me being shot on sight or captured, and even with you along...." Erica sighed. "He would immediately think that you betrayed him. You'd be lucky to get out alive."

Rebecca Butler

Allya had listened intently to all that Erica had to say about her life and what it was like for her growing up. On some level, Allya could sympathize with her, for her own upbringing had some similarities with her own. Her mother and brothers and herself were outcasts, so to speak because they were different than other elves; or made to feel so, so Becca had found them what she thought was a safe place to raise her brood alone, within the deep parts of the woods. they never saw anyone, not until Allya had turned 13 had she seen her first human.

Oh, she had seen animals and animals who were 'not' animals all her life, but seeing the first human village for the first time, shocked her. Seeing the swarm that was humanity had been overwhelming at first, but as she interacted with more and more people, she became more confident. All the while being raised as Wolf.

Once Erica was done telling her story and talked a little bit about Romain, that was when Allya really went silent. She remembered all of what the people closest to Romain had said about him. How people had acted towards her, and still did obviously, when they found out she was 'his woman'. A phrase she HATED above anything else! She was not some property to look good on Romain's arm. She had her own thoughts and ideas and feelings. It bugged her that no one seemed to notice that whenever they heard his name first or afterwards.

Hearing that it made things even a bit harder for this allience to happen in order to bring about a type of peace because she 'sided with' Romain, made her frustrations rise again. Above all, Allya was loyal to her House! Her mother! Her Brothers! Blood before Faction, was her line of thought. No one else had ever been there for her and her siblings like their mother had and a wolf, took care of it's pack.

A thought...Marcello seemed to forget about, as he constantly had picked at her this entire trip. It made her eyes narrow at him as her thoughts raced while the others talked.

"Do not worry for me, I can handle myself alright. Besides, if you need to get into the castle, or even close enough to talk to someone who might listen, I am sure your....'Mr. Wolf', here could help me." She glared at Marcello again, not really sure why, but his comments from earlier had bugged her. "Sure, he's not Romain's favorite person at the moment, but he can get you closer than most, and I could get you in the rest of the way. Something has to give eventually right? I'd rather not have my brothers caught up in another war, if I can help it."

Airyanna Dahlia

Marcello had been contemplating the discussion, he had Ben having with Armand about the potential for allience. He looked up now, at Allyas words. Something long forgotten stirring in his memory. Something from when he was but a teenage boy.

He realised then, that Allya was neither evil not a spy for Romain. His eyes furrowed as he wandered, why had she fallen her lot in with one such as him?

((Once again, the Human World AU is entirely separate from the rest of our RP's... Marcello and Romain has never been allied in these.))

"The last time Romain and I saw each other, we tried to kill each other. I don't know what makes you think I can get close to him," Marcello muttered... "But Jaden can." As he spoke his eyes was glued to Allya. Seemingly unable to look away. For she had grown up in the last 10 or 15 years....

Rebecca Butler

// ohhh poop! sorry.

Allya noticed Marcello's stare right away at her words, but tried to ignore him. She wondered what she had said, to make him look at her in that way. It was a little unnerving.

"Whoever you think would work, long as we can do this and do this right, together. My brothers and I can fight but we prefer not to."

She tilted her head as she now looked fully at Marcello, dead on in his eyes, almost as if challenging him. "IS there a reason you stare at me like that?" She hissed at him, almost through clenched teeth. She didn't know why he was staring at her so closely.

Airyanna Dahlia

Then, Marcello wondered, what use was an alliance if they did not wish to fight? He tried to exchange a glance with Erica, who only looked ahead. Marcello sighed and looked back to Allya.

"You're that girl from the woods," he said. "Aren't you? You wore a red cloak and claimed, you are never lost."

Rebecca Butler

It took Allya a moment to process Marcello's words and for a moment, she blinked stupidly at him as her mind came to a screeching halt and then proceeded to backtrack into her memories.

Memories of when she was young, and free in the wilds near her home. Memories of racing through the forest, of walking in the woods in the rain...of meeting a HUGE wolf as he had wondered far off from her territory. Was he....!?

"You---You were the wolf? MY 'Mr. Wolf'?" She asked, her words a whisper as her eyes held and met his. Why hadn't she seen it before? Those eyes....

Armand was a bit flabbergasted as to what was going on and looked a bit confused.

Airyanna Dahlia

Marcello could but blink back at her. Until she spake.

"And now your mother's wolf it seems...," he said softly. Tilting his head curiously at her.

"You two have met?" Shurk asked redundantly.

Erica, sensing this was a good time to leave them to it. Turned to try and find Jaden, for she may be feeding in the alleys of a nearby City... "We can meet at a dinner in Calaanville," she said as she went. "Jaden and Will may be there-"

"Not Will," said Marcello, tearing his eyes away once more as his companions voice broke the spell. "Half the Red Hand Clan has been... taken. They may be our foes when we meet again."

Erica sighed,stoping in her tracks... "Of course," she muttered. "I will try and find Jaden. She may be our best hope for getting to Romain."

Marcello nodded and turned his attention back on Allya. "Niadar Forest borders your land," he stated. "We must have met many times... why did I not recognise you?"

"I thought she was Samine at first," Gildge supplied. "Light eyes, pale skin, dark wavy hair..."

"Samine, the pri-" Marcello cut himself off as his jaw went slack. "Ohhhhh no, no, no... Even those who don't know her name could mistake her for a spy. If they look so alike." Marcello had never seen the crown Princess, so sheltered and cossetted was she. "Allya... Armand... I know you must be tired, but how do you feel about a few more hour's adventuring today? We might reach Calaanville by dusk and then, we shall meet Jaden if we are very, very lucky."

Rebecca Butler

Allya couldn't believe it. Small world after all huh? She chuckled at Shurk's question and turned to smile at him. "Yep, when I was just a wee thing. I went wandering off territory a few times and encountered this man in wolf form many times. Funny..." She turned to smile back at Marcello and giggle at his words. "See? I told you, didn't I? I invited you to our house once, saying mother would love you...and look, I was right." She giggled again, smirking and couldn't resist poking at him a little.

Though she and Armand sat back as the rest talked, finishing up the snacks that had been brought before both looked back at Marcello and Erica.

"Adventure? Sign me up." Allya smirked, which made Armand roll his eyes.

"By all means, if we can help in any way, we will do so." Armand replied with a hint of a grin.

"So you were," Marcello agreed with a smile.

"Let us head out then, if it pleases you," Gildge said to Shurk. Shurk nodded.

As the group left the safety of Dustclaw Village and began ventured towards Calaanville, it soon transpired that jagged cliffs loomed overhead. Their sharp edges cut through the mist-laden air. The ground beneath their feet was a mosaic of cracked earth and unstable terrain, making each step a perilous gamble. The wind howled fiercely, carrying whispers only the bravest souls would dare to decipher. Towering trees twisted and contorted in unnatural shapes, casting eerie shadows that danced with malevolence. In the distance, an ominous mountain range stretched across the horizon like a slumbering beast, its peaks veiled in perpetual darkness.

It was well that the siblings had chosen to adventure, for there would no longer be place or time to rest. It was not safe to drop your guard here. The howling of the wind intensified as wisps and wraiths sought to attack the brave travelers. Erica was able to blast some of them away with magic. She quickly grew faint and it was clear that she needed help. Her head start, was not much of one. She looked back to the others, her eyes determined, but you could see despair beginning to lurk behind her blue eyes.

Seeing the wisps and wraiths appearing as if out of thin air, Allya glanced at Armand and nodded. If Erica needed help, fighting these things, they could do so. Or at least, Armand could.

He raised one of his hands and fire crawled up his hands and into his fingers slowly. He had the gift of being able to manipulate it to his will if he so choose and he walked towards Erica determinedly and used his magic, to smite the few that she had missed. Wraiths hated light, and fire was the brightest type of light.

together, they made a little headway, as Allya stuck close to to those she walked with, making sure they made it safely as well. She wondered, if they were going to see someone for help, why did they have to go through this, to get there?

"The forests are treacherous," Marcello explained redundantly. "Yet we must traverse them to get to the safety of Calaanville." The only truely safe part of Niadar Forest were the outskirts, where rested Dustclaw Village and acres of flower farms. Shurk and Gildge had not wished to disturb the farmer's work. Allya and Armand needed to know what they would be getting into. Fighting Romain, they would come across much worse then simple malevelant forset spirits.

Erica nodded appreciated to Armand. "Thank you," she said.

As they ventured deeper into the forests, here came the dark unicorns. Angrier than their silver or white counterparts, these were libel to try and gore tresspassers with their sword-sharp horns. They charged the group, causing Marcello and Shurk to shift to their wolf forms in self defence and chase them away with angry snarls. For this too they needed the help of Armand, for there were allot O angry dark unicorns and wild centaurs in these parts!

Allya nodded at hearing Marcello's words, for they were true. Wraiths were not to be underestimated, for even though they hated light and could be blasted away, they could always return. She did wish she could help more though. But she couldn't shift to wolf and didn't have the magic Armand did, so she just let him help and tried the best she could, brandishing her sword just in case it was needful.

Armand nodded at Erica's thanks and offered her a small smile. Though when he first saw a dark unicorn, he almost stalled. Such a beautiful animal...and yet, it seemed so deadly. Seeing Shurk and Marcello shift into wolves, he did the same and snarling, chased off a Dark Unicorn himself, before turning back to the group.

Allya was as if memerized by the dark unicorns, and she had the wild thought that she wished to see if they could 'hear' her. But she kept close to the group, all the while, she had secretly sent out a greeting to any of them that would listen. 'Hello. Don't be angry or afraid. I am Allya and this is my group of friends. Can any of you hear me?'

Allya's sword was effective in defending against some of the unicorns. She could take aim and swing with more flexibility then they could aim their horns, and faster to.

Yet when she began to mind-speak to them, they paused as if as one. Stepping back from the wolves but not retreating. Shurk heard her to and stopped, backing down. Marcello followed his lead.

*'These are not our friends,'* a filly snarled, pawing the ground.

A colt peeked out from behind her. He had been exiled just recently from his herd and was shyer and more uncertain then the rest. *'That's Allya,'* he repeated to the filly. *'Her male is a friend of the Exiled, isn't he?'*

Pandera heard the commoiton from where she had been grazing nearby and gallopped up to the group. She was a magnificent centaur. The horse half of her body was a dark brown. Her hair and tail were even darker, perhaps black, streaked with white. She came upon the standoff with Erica, Marcello, Shurk, and someone she didn't know vs. a group of black unicorns. She caught the tail end of the colt's words and her heart filled with sorrow. Erica and the others were Pandera's friends. Romain was not.

"Romain isn't anyone's friend," Pandera told the colt out loud. "He's using you and the other Exiled to fight his war, to get revenge on people that turned him out for his mixed blood."

*'Revenge sounds good to me,'* said the filly who'd first replied to Allya. *'He's not using us if we willingly join him.'*

"He's also not 'Allya's male,' he is the ill-gotten king," Pandera continued as if the filly hadn't spoken. "Why doesn't he just pass laws outlawing discrimination?"

"That's actually part of what we're going there to talk to him about," Shurk said rather bashfully as he turned back into a human. Pandera snorted in disbelief. She nudged her head encouraging them to keep walking. Marcello, now also human, Shurk, and Erica fell into step beside her and the unicorns trailed along curious to know what was going to happen. "We think that if we can call a parley, he and these fine folks from Rivendell," Shurk gestured at Allya and Armand, "can talk about the culture of where they're from. Romain thirsts for knowledge, he will want to know how other countries run their governments. Mayhap we can come to an understanding."

"And you're going to what?" Pandera asked. "Walk up to the castle and tell the guards--"

"We're *going* to find Jaden and ask her to come with us," Marcello interrupted. Rude, but they couldn't just bicker aimlessly the whole way there. "He has a soft spot for her for whatever reason."

"HAD a soft spot," Pandera corrected. "Seven years ago, before she tried to use herself to distract him from doing battle against his sister. And then she joined the Red Hand Clan, the army of vampires that fought on the front lines against him in the Battle of Sorlian. If her and ... Allya, was it? show up together with you three--"

"What do you suggest?" Marcello asked, not trying to keep his temper from rising. They were coming upon a beautiful and peaceful area littered with skeletons. This grove was particularly treacherous for it could lure people into a state so peaceful, they relaxed themselves to death, forgetting to take care of themselves. It was best to travel with an enemy, or at least with someone that you felt tension around. It was safest to say on edge. "If we show up with Jaden, and Calaan king of the vampires, and me king of the werewolves, and the diplomat Armand--"

"Then his king's guard will immediately think you're there to declare war."

"Because he's a warlike person!" Marcello snapped exasperated. Then he had a tought. "Unless the unicorns lead." He turned to the aggressive filly. "What's your name, girl?"

*'Margie,'* she replied.

"Margie, would you and your friends here be willing to escort us from the front so that Romain knows we're not there to cause trouble? Once we leave Calaanville, that is. I don't think it would be a good idea for you to precede us when we go talk to Jaden and Calaan."

Margie snorted and pawed at the ground. *'What do you think, foreign boy?'* she asked Armand nudging her head in his direction. *'If you're a diplomat. Do you have a better plan?'*

Previous

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Airyanna Dahlia

Hey there, little red riding hood. I don't think little big girls should go walking through those spooky old woods alone.

Rebecca Butler

"You don't scare ME, Mr. Wolf. For we have met before."

Allya smiled almost brightly up at the big wolf who had approached her in the dark woods. She was older now. Grown almost and wearing a red hood her mother had made her. Venturing into the darkest parts of the woods because she was not afraid of those who inhabited there. Able to talk to animals helped her stay safe for the most part, and it was a fun and relaxing past time when one would speak to her.

Airyanna Dahlia

The wolf recognized her immediately. "The little girl who was walking in the forest. How you've grown," he said. "For someone who easily finds her way home, you've visited more frequently than I expected."

Rebecca Butler

Allya's smile was bright at seeing the Wolf remembered her. She had often sought him out or looked for him whenever she came for walks in the darker parts of the woods, but had never seen him, until now.

His words made her flush slightly as she nodded her thanks politely. "My thanks, Mr. Wolf. It is good, to see you too." She chuckled softly. "Of course I come for walks in the woods. It is relaxing. Peaceful." She paused and tilted her head at him, curious. "What of you? Have you found a place to call home yet, or do you stil wander these woods alone?"

Airyanna Dahlia

"I like to wander," said the wolf. He didn't think there was anywhere he would ever belong, but he did not wish to rain on the girls parade. "These woods, and many others, are my home." He pawed at the ground. "Niadar is a big forest after all."

Previous

Romain began the next morning with a shower. Normally he preferred to shower at night, but out of consideration for his guest he had chosen not to get the bedding moistened. It had been a long time since he had slept beside someone. Some members of his guard had tried it, but he had pointed out that their sleeping posts in the atrium were far more secure. It was a peculiar feeling to wake up with someone in bed beside him. He shook it off on his way to the shower.

Romain was normally an efficient man, but he did enjoy some little luxuries. Long showers with silky smooth potions for his hair and salt-encrusted soaps for his body were a must. The shower itself was large enough for a family, with multiple outlets for sprays of water in rows across the ceiling and columns down the walls. He sometimes amused himself by changing the coloring of some of the sprays or manifesting a fountain over the center of the shower. Yesterday he had wanted to leave as soon as possible to alleviate Ziranth's restlessness. Today, in this shower he so prided, he thought Ziranth could wait as long as it pleased him.

Rebecca Butler

Allya didn't so much as budge or toss or turn the entire night. Only once, when in sleep, did she turn on her side and feeling the warmth of Romain's body lightly touching hers, did her arm go languidly around his waist, as she cuddled closer to him. Only for a moment. She didn't remember doing it, as she woke up, on her other side, curled up.

Once her eyes slid open, she yawned softly, and sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. She heard the shower going in the bathroom and knew Romain was in there, so she reached for a robe hanging up nearby, and tied it lightly around her waist, as she walked over to the bathroom door and knocked. Never would she dare enter unless he said she could, she knew that much about him and that thought, made her giggle.

"Romain? Love? May I come in?" She called out to be heard over the shower.

Airyanna Dahlia

Romain tensed from head to toe as he heard the endearment.

"This is the fourth day we've known each other. Don't call me 'love,'" he informed her. "Yet enter if you wish. Once we've both showered and clothed ourselves, we will break our fast and be on our way." His words clipped. So much for making Ziranth wait so he could enjoy the shower, he thought, but he was not overly perturbed. He had suspected she would want to shower too, he minded not if they showered at the same time, yet it was the inappropriate familiarity that bothered him. Who was she, to use terms of endearment for a man she barely knew? And to royalty such as himself, instead of a more appropriate title? He had soldiers whom he sneakingly suspected were enamored with him, yet even they granted him this smallest of respects.

Rebecca Butler

Allya paused as Romain seemingly chastized her a bit and she bit her lip and looked away a moment. "I am sorry, Romain." She said, her words soft. "Sometimes I forget, you are not wolf, like me." She said as she came into the bathroom and went to brush her teeth. "Wolves....just know...." She said by way of explanation. She was content to wait for him to finish his shower, before she took her own, for she would never be so bold as to assume. So she finished up at the sink and went to look for a towel for herself for when it was her turn to bathe.

Airyanna Dahlia

"You don't look like a wolf," Romain stated the obvious bluntly. "Were you raised by them?" He asked. He had not met her family yet. He would have to ask Lachlan, who had been the one to see them, if any of them had seemed wolf-like. "And what is it, that you just *know*?" He asked, emphasizing the word. "You're not about to tell me you fell in love with me at first sight, are you? Half my soldiers have tried that line on me." He huffed out a laugh. "Well? What are you waiting for? Our reservoirs are deep, but not infinite. Or do you wish to preserve your modesty? Very well then, I shall leave and dress if you prefer."

Rebecca Butler

"Kinda." She replied. "Mother and my brothers can shift into wolf. I was the only one the gene skipped. But I can do things that they can't as well, so, guess it evened out." She chuckled softly only to pause and blush a little again at his words.

"Love at first sight is indeed, a wolf thing, Romain. When you see the one you are meant for there is supposed to be a spark, you would have felt it, same as I." She paused, eyes furrowed as she thought that through; only to look up as he spoke again.

"I don't mind if you don't....I just didn't want to hop in the shower with you, assuming that would be alright." She chuckled as she undressed and went to step into the shower as well. It was spacious enough that they were not pressed upon each other like a normal shower would be, and she admired the way it was built as she started to wash off. the water was so warm.

Airyanna Dahlia

Romain didn't answer her explanation. He filed it away for later, he would ask one of the werewolves on his side if it was true for them. He'd never considered romantic love, but it might make their trip needlessly awkward if he shared that just now.

He waved her into the shower impatiently and once she was in, he decided to use his magic to play with the water a little. He changed the colors of some columns of spray down the walls so that it looked like a multifaceted rainbow. He thought to himself that it was at least polite of her to wait for permission to enter the shower. Her being raised by wolves certainly accounted for her lack of proper address when it came to addressing the king.

He pointed out where the hair potions and soaps were, and what each one was for. Silky hair, curly hair, exfoliation, etc. When he had used to bathe with his soldiers, before he'd built his own shower, they had been surprised at how high-maintenance he was. Yet why shouldn't he enjoy the finer things in life? It was, after all, his land to rule, was it not? He had long learned that a well-groomed leader was taken more seriously than a grubby one and, before he had taken over this castle, he had relied heavily on magic to keep himself looking his best.

Airyanna Dahlia is with Rebecca Butler.

"My Lord," Wren said tentatively. "There are letters coming in from states all over the land about- about the maintenance of the land."

"Maintenance?" Romain echoed with a scoff.

"My Lord, some states report they have little food, others' wells have run dry of clean water."

Romain spread his hands. "My sister wishes to take my crown. Let the maintenance of the states be her responsibility."

Wren did her best to stifle a cringe. "Shall My Lord punish non-rebel states?" She asked boldly.

"Very well," Romain sighed. "Send for Allya."
 

Rebecca Butler

Allya had no idea why she had been sent for as she made her way into Romain's rooms. True, though she was an ambassador for her land, she had never had to act upon it before and wondered if that was what this was all about?

She knew she would find out when she arrived, but wondered of the mood of the room as she entered and was admitted.

"You sent for me, My Dear?"

She decided to go with informal formality as she nodded ever sp politely to Wren and then turned to look at her lover....or...well...the man she loved.

Airyanna Dahlia

Truelly the plight of the citizenry was beyond Romain's scope of care, however he was not one to admit weakness.

"Our Lady of Letters says there have been complaints from some of the states regarding food and such," Romain waved his hand dismissively. "To not address these desires would be a punishment of states that have been loyal to me. Would you read these letters with Wren and assist me in deciding how to handle these... Imperfections in our country?"

Wren fought to keep all traces of amusement off her face. Romain was no stranger to power, but the everyday responsibilities of running his home smoothly he needed help with?

Wren turned to Allya and asked, "Rieshin says you have healing abilities, could you use them to bring dying crops to life? Mayhap even heal the soil?"

Rebecca Butler

She flushed gently as a shy smile crossed her face at hearing what was requested of her and Wren's words. This was...different.

"I would be honored to help in any way I can, of course." She replied earnestly.

She smiled over at Wren and tilted her head a bit. " I am....unsure. I have never tried. My power is sporadic at times, but we could try."

Airyanna Dahlia

Wren nodded after a pase, it woudl be good for them to get out of the castle. Correction. It would be good for Wren to get out of the castle. She had not left the grounds since she had found herself here. She knew she was lucky, for a human: she had neither been forced to join the army nor become food for the vampire wing. Really she knew not why the king had made her his Lady of Letter's, but even as a servant she was treated better then she would have expected.

"Will you need a guard?" Romain asked.

"Can we choose?" Wren asked.

Romain waved his hand. Any of his soldiers was competent.

"Declan," Wren said. As a vampire, Declan would be somewhat less mistrusted than Rieshin the shiftling for instance. Wren was also simply accustomed to needing accompaniment from a man, even if she were with a woman of equal or greater capability to herslef. Declan was likeable and easy to tlak to.

Romain looked to Allya. "Do you object?" He asked.

Rebecca Butler

"No, I do not object." Allya smirked faintly. She had only vaguely remembered Declan. Having seen him a few times in passing. She held no aversion to vampires like her brother Rheagal did.

"When did you to leave?" She asked, turning to look back at Wren. "I can be ready soon as you wish to start."

Good thing about Allya....she traveled light and was ready to go in an instant.

Airyanna Dahlia

Romain summoned Declan, who's bright blue eyes lit up as he recognized Allya.

"Hello, Declan. You'll be escorting us through the country as we hear the grievances of the people and try to solve them," Wren explained to him.

They could leave right away, but where to start? Sorlian the human city was full of rebels, and Wren had expressly asked Romain not to punish *non* rebellious city states. Doruba, Romley, and Neom were elven cities, where Allya might feel comfortable. Doruba was a border city, as was the werewolf territory of Dustclaw Village. Daulim was a draconic city, populated mostly by dragons, and it technically bordered Vylia. Wren tried to remember other features of geography, but she did not have committed the map to memory yet. She knew that also on the outskirts of Vylia was a Shiftling settlement, where those who could not join the army but were still more loyal to Romain than Erica had settled. There were a few vampire cities Wren did not remember the name of.

She decided the most practical way to do this was to take the letters of complaint and follow them to their origins. They need not tell Romain precisely where they were going, only that they were keeping the citizenry out of his hair.

"I know where we're going first," said Wren decisively. She curtsied to Romain, then led the group out to the stables. Several fine dark unicorns grazed. Wren chose a mare named Acmu, Declan chose Tieron, and once Allya had chosen her mount the group started off at a trot to Sorlian.

Declan and Wren looked as innocuous as could be. Declan with his wide blue eyes and dazzling smile. Wren with her sweet face and unassuming demeanor. If Allya was wise enough to keep her hood up, it was unlikely she would be recognized in the context of her company. Wren was rarely outside the castle and never outside the grounds, and Declan wasn't known for being always at Romain's side like his middle brother.

Sorlian was a big city, yet with a high reliance on agriculture. The crops had been failing these last several months and no one could trace the cause of it. Wren suggested that Allya use her healing abilities to heal the roots and the soil.

Rebecca Butler

Allya smirked a little at seeing Declan again and gave the brieftest of nods to him as they set out for their first stop. She had pressed a soft, quick kiss to Romain's cheek as they left and darted out after the others. Choosing a dark unicorn was a little bit harder for Allya, for they were all so beautiful, and 'noisey!' Once they realized she could hear them without them trying, they all 'bombarded' her with questions and tried to get her to pick them. All save one, who acted like he couldn't care less and that was the one she choose. he seemed...different, and Allya liked what was different.

Once mounted up, she asked where they were going and hearing what was to be her job while there, she bit her lip and went quiet for the rest of the trip. Hoping she could do what was asked of her. Hoping that her magic didn't backfire or cause her or her companions embarrassment. She had warned both Romain and Wren that her gift was compulsory, it worked when it wanted to. So, she focused on the task ahead as they rode and hoped she managed to build up enough strength inside of her to at least get parts of the job done without to much trouble.

When they reached the town of Sorlain, and they met with those having issues, Allya was led to where the crops were failing and she took her time and slowly walked the fields first. She was a farmer, among other things, having grown up on the food she and her family had grown themselves. It was either that or starve, so she had learned a few tricks that many did not seem to know. Kneeling, she scooped up some of the dirt and let it sift between her fingers, and sniffed at it. She could tell it had good nutrients in the soil, so that wasn't the issue. Eyes furrowed, she dug a little deeper in the dirt, and found that the farther she went, the drier and harder the ground had become.

"Wren? Can you ask these people how long they have been planting within this field, and if they rotate the crops or not?" She called out as she looked around for anything that might give her a reason why the crops were dying, before she tried to use her magic.

Airyanna Dahlia

"We rotate our crops just fine" said a man with indignation.

"Watch yer mouth and show some respect, don't ye know who yer talking to?" Declan demanded. Wren looked askance at him and he quickly recovered, "This here's a fine magic specialist! Do ye want her help or don't ye?"

Wren had used to help her friend's family tend their herb garden and Declan tended Romain's tree farms. Everyone knew something about agriculture and a short, terse discussion showed that there was not any mundane cause for the hardening of the soil or the rotting of the plants.

"There's nut'n for it," Declan said, "yer gonna have to show them what yev got."

Rebecca Butler

Allya sighed, still surveying the area of the dead trees and plants. She had never tried anything like this before and she was worried that it wouldn't work. But, it couldn't be much different than healing people, right? Though, she wasn't even sure how she did that. It just...happened!

Nodding. she walked into the middle of the field and knelt upon the tilted land and laid her hands splayed out on the soil. Allowing her fingers to dig into the dirt, she closed her eyes and just focused on what she was supposed to do. Heal the crops. Heal the field.

At first, nothing happened and she began to sweat a little. Eyes still closed, she pictured the crops and what she remembered how they were made up and grew. Slowly, as she pictured the roots and the root systems leading to the crops, her hands began to glow and she could hear murmurs turn to gasps of awe. But she tried not to let it distract her, eyes still closed so she had no idea what was happening!

She began to feel dizzy, but tried to hang on as long as she could. The glow from her hands grew brighter and brighter until she had to pull back because her hands literally started to burn! She pulled back from the ground with a sharp cry, but as she looked around, she could see, this field and three fields beyond were in full bloom with their crops fully restored. She was suddenly so tired, so she didn't dare move...and just stayed there, kneeling in the middle of the field.

Airyanna Dahlia

Among those gasping in awe was Declan. "Wowee," he exclaimed! "Wait till the K- uh, the crew hears about this! They'll be so impressed, yes they will!"

Wren sighed with relief as she watched the field come alive again under Allya's touch. She reached into her side bag, and pulled out the letter for those crops and a needle. She pricked her finger, flinching as she did so. She signed the letter "Day 1, A." To signify that Allya had taken care of this complaint. She folded the letter and put it away. She looked through other letters to find more from Sorlian. It was a large, relatively well-developed city, being comprised mainly of humans.

"There's an inn to the west which is having some trouble with the central plumbing," she summarized.

"I can help with that," said Declan. "Me brothers make me do the privy chores when the servants aren't available."

"Let's make our way slowly, so that we none of us are overtaxed." Wren had noticed how tired Allya seemed now.

"Do ye need some help back on yer horse, miss?" Declan offered.

Rebecca Butler

Allya took a few moments to more to catch her breath and waited for the wave of dizziness to pass before she stood. Looking over at Declan, she smiled faintly and nodded.

"Yes please. Thank you. I...I feel a bit dizzy." She blinked, trying to get the spots to fade from her eyes.

"Where to next?" She asked as she took Declan's hand as he helped her back onto her horse. She was still a bit unsteady but she was slowly beginning to feel better.

Airyanna Dahlia

"We're headin' to an inn on the west side," Declan repeated. "I'll help with the plumbin' and maybe they'll let us stay for free." Golly, Allya must really be tired if she was forgetting things they'd talked about two minutes ago, Declan thought!

They made their way slowly as Wren had suggested. Clip-clopping along as if without a care in the world. No one paid them any mind. They got to the inn without incident.

Until Wren pulled up short. "Wait," she said. "I know this place."

"That's good, innit?" Declan asked.

"Maybe. I think you two should go on without me. I can find my own--"

Her words died in her throat as the inn's owner came out to see who was outside the inn. The light of the setting sun glinted off her white-blond hair as she approached the horses for a better look.

"Wren," she breathed. "Come down off your horse. I haven't seen you in an age and you look at me like I'm the ghost!"

Wren flashed an apologetic smile at her best friend and slid off her horse. Declan following suit. "Good evening, Cinda," she said. "This is Declan, he's here to fix the plumbing, and this is Allya." Wren had written to Cinda every week, but this was the first time they had seen each other face to face in a year.

Declan wisely let Wren do the talking as Cinda's reddish eyes assessed them. The letters that had been coming to the inn bore the royal seal. She had wanted to believe it was a fancy prank, but lo! Wren truelly was working for the king and had towed along the woman he was rumored to keep.

"You'd better come in," Cinda said, ushering them inside. "Declan, why don't you take Allya upstairs, there's a vacancy at the end of the hall. I'll have my brother bring her up some food and drink, and then you can get started on the plumbing. Wren-" She hugged her friend. "Dony will hep you sort through those diplomatic letters, he's good with boring administrative things. That is why you're here, on diplomatic mission?" Peircing to the heart of the matter. Wren could only nod, hanging her head at the end in shame as she looked around what had used to be her home.

The torch-lit tavern was filled with the sounds of raucous laughter, clinking glasses, and sweet singing mixed with a stringed instrument unfamiliar to Wren. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and honey mead, mixed with the scent of roasting meat wafting from the kitchen. Rich wood tables and chairs were scattered around the room, their surfaces worn smooth by years of use. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls adorned with fresh tapestries depicting gorgeous stitched baskets and cornucopias overflowing with mouthwatering food. The bar itself was a long, storied slab of wood, behind which stood a very familiar bartender. He had his sister's height, red eyes, tanned skin, and white hair, even her mischeivious smile. He waved cheerily as he caught Wren's eye. Then returned wiping down mugs with a newly-woven cloth of colorful, chaotic shades of twine. Patrons of all walks of life rubbed elbows as they drank, gambled, and gossiped - soldiers fresh from the battlefield sat next to well-dressed nobles, while companions for hire plied their trade in dark corners.

In one corner of the tavern, a group of rough-looking men gathered around a table, their voices low and conspiratorial. One of them, a burly man with a thick beard and scars crisscrossing his face, seemed to be the leader of the group. He spoke in hushed tones, gesturing towards a map spread out on the table. The others nodded along, their faces grim. A red-haired woman Wren had grown up with weaved her way through the throng, deftly avoiding spilled drinks and groping hands as she delivered tankards of ale to thirsty patrons.

Rebecca Butler

Allya wasn't sure what to make of Cinda at first. She seemed like a nice enough woman, and a little on guard, but she was expecting that. It was best, to be cautious than stupid, was her own little motto about meeting new people too. She smiled politely and nodded at Cinda, thanking her for her hospitality as she managed to climb off her steed without falling the moment she hit the ground. She truly was still tired and could use some good food and a small nap.

"My thanks, for your hospitality and help, Madam. It is much appreciated." Her smile warm as she turned to follow Declan upstairs towards the room allotted for them. When she reached the room, she sighed, thanking Declan for his guidance and then promptly proceeded to walk towards the bed, take a seat and then laid back upon it and was instantly, asleep!

She couldn't even fight it if she tried, and she did try for she didn't want to seem rude and just pass out while Declan was still in the room. However, sleep dragged her down the instant her body relaxed and her eyes slid closed as she sighed softly and she was gone.

Airyanna Dahlia

"I'm not a madam, I run an establishment of fine repute," Cinda replied playfully, swatting at Allya with a handkerchief as though they had known each other for years. "My name's Darcinda Stanley, and that's my brother, Adonis. You can call me Cinda, everyone does," she said just before Allya was making her way up the stairs.

Far from thinking it rude, Declan was happy that Allya fell asleep so quickly, seemingly needing nothing else. Declan could then talk to Cinda about what needed repairs and get straight to work. He was a well-educated man and had studied all kinds of handy work, good enough to be the primary maintenance man on staff at Castle Vylia. So skilled was he that even his upkeep duties took precedence over his guard duties.

Adonis brought a chowder bread bowl up to Allya, magically heated so that it would stay warm until she was ready to eat it.

Cinda and Wren chattered away and caught up throughout the night. Towards the wee hours of the morning, the tavern life was still going strong and so was their conversation.

"How long have you been working for the King?" Cinda asked lightly. She was not one to get involved in politics. She and Adonis belonged to no faction but their own, and even Dony had talked about leaving Adornia to carve out a niche to rule somewhere else. It wasn't safe for their kind here anymore.

Wren sighed. That was a long story she was uncertain she could make Cinda understand. "There's a shade that's been after me," she began. "I have reason to believe it wants me dead. I was fleeing this such shade when I landed on the land of his castle estate. I was rounded up by the guard and brought before him. He asked would I serve him or become food for the vampires in his army. I was made the lady-in-waiting to his daughter the princess--"

"His what, the who?" Cinda asked. She held not with the politics of the land, but even she knew Romain was hardly the sort to be sentimental enough to have a daughter. Let alone acknowledge her. Wren could only shrug helplessly instead of answer her question.

"Then it came to pass that the wraith that had been chasing me, made a suggestion in the ear of the King, and I was promoted to his Lady of Letters. I handle smaller administrative duties, and today he consented to allow Allya and me out into the world to handle the complaints of the citizens."

Now Cinda understood why Wren was able to write every week, how she had gotten to Romain's employ, and other questiosn that Cinda had had.

"What do you think of Allya?" Dony asked.

A hush fell over the bar. Excepting the men whispering in one corner, everyone had fallen silent, including the performer onstage. Everyone knew who Allya was, though very few knew anything about her. Dony had not kept his voice down and so everybody had heard him. To speak against Allya was to speak against the king's tastes, and could easily be construed as treason.

"She's exactly the oppostie of what you would expect if you were told Romain Bishop had taken a women," Wren said. "She uses light magic, and uses it spareingly at that. She can come off as preacy sometimes, but you can tell she means well. She has a good heart and a gentle spirit."

At that a racous call of laughter rang out through the tavern as men and women began placeing bets on how long Allya would last. There was no law against gambling.

Cinda hid a smile behind a grimace. "I wish her luck," she said vaguely. "Now you had best try and rest. The sun will be up in a few hours." Cinda and Dony would rest when the last of the patrons cleared out of the bar.

Wren went upstairs to her old room. To her surprise, she found it completely unchanged. Wondering if this was Cinda's sentimentality or if Dony had just never bothered to clear it out. She removed her shoes and stockings and collapsed onto the bed, closing her eyes and clutching a pillow that still smelled of home.

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Rebecca Butler - Sebastian Morningstar Airyanna Dahlia definitely... | Facebook

Rebecca Butler

*she sat in the courtyard of the Fortress, trying to control the fire that burned hot inside her. She had the gift to use it, but not the control yet. She could make flames burst from her hands, and travel up her arm slowly. Long as the flames were blue, she could touch, but the second it turned red, it would burn deeper then any of Hells fire. She held up her hand and smirked slightly as flames tingled through her fingers, surrounded her hand. She liked 'playing with fire', and she chuckled softly as she made the flame leap from hand to hand.*

Airyanna Dahlia

The princess was lured by the appearance of fire, a blue fire which was strange to her. She was out hunting for a change, hunting for dinner as she had used to do as a child before the Crown had taken her in. She was out without an escort, without any guards beside her, because for once she simply wished to be a normal girl.

Yet however normal she wished to act, she HAD been raised these last few years to enter every dominion as if she had ownership of it.

"What's that you're doing?" She asked, being curious. "Why is your fire a different color then the other fire elementals I know?" She had dropped her polished accent for peassant speech and spoke plainly now.

Rebecca Butler

Freya jumped at hearing the new voice and turned her head to see the young woman behind her. Her fire, instantly went out as she startled and at first, her first impulse was to deny everything! Taught to keep the secret of what she could do since birth and even more so since entering the School of Night, where practicing magic in front of mortals was forbidden.

"Nothing." She said at first, grimacing as she was a terrible liar and it would be known from her facial expression. Freya hated lies, above all else. She was horrible at it.

Airyanna Dahlia

"Nothing, is it?" The girl asked, furrowing her brow. Showing that she didn't believe this for a second. "Blue fire is nothing? Only most of the fire I've seen is the normal color. My father can make black fire, or at least it looks like fire. He makes demons out of it." She lowered her voice. "Some people say that's how I was born, but that's just speculation, see. I don't look like no demon." With her clear blue eyes, long black hair, and fair skin, she surely did not. "But no one knows who my mother is, so there may be credence to that rumor after all. Do you have a mother?" It was natural to be curious and not all of her natural boldness had been "trained" out of her.

Rebecca Butler

Hearing that this stranger knew of magic, she felt a bit better and then slowly raised her hand and allowed her fire to return. It crawled slowly from her wrists and up to her hand, blue and safe.

"This is part of who I am, I guess." She said with a soft smile. "I have been able to do this for as long as I can remember. So long as the fire is blue, it is safe for touch. I can use it to help heal people with an action, kind of like massage but with my gift. But if it turns red, it burns everything it comes into contact with." She smiled faintly, and dropped her hand, seemingly interested in this newcomer.

"Forgive me, where are my manners? My name is Freya. Freya Hawthorn. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Airyanna Dahlia

"Samine Bishop, and the pleasure's all yours," the girl joked playfully. She was about sixteen years of age, bright and curious. She had used to be a hunter when she lived in a small village and had shown a natural talent for fighting off demons in battle. Once she had failed, been captured by a demon, and brought to the Dark Castle of Vylia, told that she was the daughter of the King who resided there, the overlord of her entire country. There were plenty of people her own age at the castle, but most were warriors in the army (who acted way too serious to be any fun) or humans, who served as vampire food and servants. The court was short on nobles so the only time she ever got to meet other pepole she could actulaly talk to and play with was when she sneaked off the grounds.

Samine poked at the fire with her index finger and grinned as she found that it did not burn her. "Cool," she said admiringly. "You didn't answer my question though. Have you got a mum? Not everyone has, you see," she explained all to seriously.

Rebecca Butler

Freya's lips turned in jest at hearing the girl's greeting. She was a Firey one, wasn't she? She liked her, almost immediately. Hearing her question again, though, she nodded a bit before answering.

"I do---or rather, I did. She died, when I was very young." She replied with a soft tone of voice. Even though things between herself and her mother had been strained at best, her mother had tried her best before giving into not talking and living in a dream world for the remainder of her life. "I remember her though. She used to tell the best stories...." She trailed off and shook her head and looked back at the young girl. "Do you have a mother?" She asked back in turn.

Airyanna Dahlia

"Oi, that's a bummer," Samine said. Pulling a orange from her pocket, peeling it and dividing it into quarters, oferring one to Freya and then eating one herself. She chewed as she thought how to answer Freya's question.

"I don't think so," she said honestly. "There're all kinds of rumors at home about how I must have been born from dark demonic energy. A demon found me hunting food for the village I used to live in, then brought me home to meet my father. The soldier taht took care of me told me all about how a Seer had found me by tracing my father's energy, but no one could find my mother by tracing mine. Either she died too, or I never had one. That's just as well. My father has a prickly personality, but I've never gone hungry in his care." Then being curious, she asked, "What sorts of stories did your mum used to tell?"

Rebecca Butler

"Really? That is...fascinating. dark demonic energy? I didn't even know own that was possible." Freya said, interested. "And they couldn't find a trace of your mother...and yet your father is...someone of importance? But how...?" She paused, wondering how on earth that would even work.

Most demons seduced a human or someone close to human to making a child. Never, had Freya ever heard of a child being born with DNA from an actual living man if he, himself had not dine the...deed. this made her all the more curious.

She paused in her thoughts and looked back over at the young girl. "My mother didn't really tell stories." She said a bit sadly. "My homelife...wasn't good but when mother was happy and herself, she did mention things about dragons and magic."

Airyanna Dahlia

"Sure it is!" Samine said. "All kinds of things are possible. My father, he can create demons out of his own magic. He's the most feared mage in our country because he can do that. I reckon I can do it too if I could sit still long enough to concentrate. I'm not one for sitting around and studying. I much prefer the fighting practice, especially hand-to-hand. I've fought every soldier in his army to at least a draw," she said proudly. "He don't want us overly relying on magic, see. That's why I don't think I'm a demon, I'm pants at magic, see, if I was a demon, couldn't I do it as easy as breathing? Would I need to breathe?" She asked as an afterthought.

Samine was equally as confused at Freya's contradiction. "But you said she used to tell the best stories," she said. "There weren't more to it then dragons and magic?" She asked in a disappointed tone. Dragons and magic were commonplace, though both were feared by people who lacked one or the other.

Rebecca Butler

"My mother....wasn't a happy person." Freya amended. "She wasn't 'sane' for the most part, considering my father drove her far into her own mind by the time I was eight years old. So the stories she did tell, I could never be sure if they were true, or things she made up in her mind." She paused and then smirked a little. "But when she was clear, she would tell me about her life as a young girl sometimes, and those were the good stories....if that makes sense."

Airyanna Dahlia

It made more sense then it had before. Samine nodded. "What was she like, then, as a girl? And why did she marry such a troll of a man, then?" She was curious about this girl. Freya was unlike anyone Samine knew in the castle.

Rebecca Butler

"She was beautiful...." Freya said in a dreamlike voice. "She would show me old pictures she still had of herself, that my father didn't destroy in a rage, of when she was younger. Happier. Free." She sighed. "She loved music, most of all and that's what 'saved' her for as long as she could before she died. She played beautifully when she was in her right mind and the songs she could create made the house sing. Funny, that my father never forbade her this one pleasure, but he did everything else." She shook her head and continued.

"She was free-spirited as a young girl. Always laughing, always happy. She loved to walk or run through the forests when allowed and loved animals. The barns were full of her many cats and horses." Freya's smile faded a bit as she went to answer the last question asked.

"She fell in love...." She said simply, before looking up at Samine. "Keep in mind, my father was not always as mean, controlling and cruel as he was when I was younger. According to mother, he was a very charming, caring, very handsome young man and she fell for him instantly. They knew each other growing up and while his family had moved away, they reconnected later in life and he was still the same, only a little darker. But she didn't care. He said he loved her, doted on her and she agreed to marry him." She paused, her eyes furrowing slightly as she spoke.

"It was only as he dove more into the darker aspects of magic that he began to change. He grew darker, meaner. To the point where everything was his word, his way and if things didn't go his way, she would be punished. Her utter failure to him was that she gave birth to ME first, instead of Amos, my brother. He never forgave her for that and increased his hold upon her so much that she retreated more into her own mind and world just to 'survive'."

Airyanna Dahlia

Everyone liked music, Samine nodded. On that they could agree. "Your father would have to be a special sort of tyrant to forbid music," she ventured. "The regular kind still likes music," she added, clarifying.

Samine looked away when Freya looked at her. "Love is folly," she recited. "A distraction from the realities of life."

Looking back at her and speaking her own words. "Your father acted charming and caring at first when they reconnected to reel her in and showed his true self after they were married. Yet I don't understand why having a firstborn daughter was a mark against her." She spread her hands. "How is a son different than a daughter? Father says nothing, not gender or age or species, matters other than your strength. Your ability to fight. Your mother didn't have that ability, did she? She went from being free-spirited and happy to a withering shell of herself. Why didn't she just kill him if she was unhappy? It's what I will do if my future husband mistreats me."

She laughed. "There's nothing wrong with dark magic," she said. "Your father was weak for letting it change him so. My father needs to have things his way too, but as I don't have a mother to punish...." She trailed off. "He doesn't take it out on the troops, though, or me. He just strong-arms his way into getting what he wants. It's usually effective."

Airyanna Dahlia - The day had finally come. Merideth's dragon had... | Facebook

Airyanna Dahlia added a new photo to the album: Castles Vylia and Doruba — with Rebecca Butler.

The day had finally come. Merideth's dragon had hatched in the coals of the fireplace that had been designated expressly for Allya. Emerging from the shells came a horned dragon, aquamarine in color with lilac scales, more then eight tiny horns on it's oversized head, and eyes as large as you please. Its wings were small and feeble, it would be a long time yet until this child could fly. It looked up at Romain with eyes full of hope. He had no choice, but to scoop it up and bring it to the library where Allya was reading.

Rebecca Butler

Allay had taken but a short break from watching the egg to go find something to eat and rest a bit. She had ended up in the library and was reading to try and relax, since she had been tending the egg in the fire almost day and night (And would have too had not Romain 'ordered' her to rest and eat). She was just starting to find that ephoric place between relaxation and sleep when she heard footsteps hurrying her way.

Eyes shooting open from where they had half closed, her gaze trailed to the door where Romain was coming into the room and before she could even think to form words to ask him if things were ok, did her eyes lock onto the small bundle he was carrying!

Slipping off the sofa where she sat, she stood and slowly went over to him. Her eyes wide in wonder and awe as she gazed down at the tiny creature in his arms. Warmth flooded her suddenly at staring into those big, beautiful eyes of the dragon and instant love nearly melted her. The dragonling was beautiful!

"My Love....may I?" She softly asked him as her eyes met and held Romain's now. Looking eager, and he could see the other emotions reflected in her emerald orbs. She was so excited. It had hatched!

Airyanna Dahlia

Romain was protective of dragons, having befriended one in his youth who had protected and stayed with him when his village had cast him out. He hesitated before handing the bundle over to Allya, it was her dragon after all. She had gone to the forest with him and bargained with a mother dragon to take the egg and raise the baby dragon. Due to Allya's personal care of the egg, it had hatched long before hatching season had begun.

"What will you name it?" He asked, ignoring as always the pet name that she gave him. She called no one else that, but he refused to take it upon himself to wonder at her intentions of such a name. He would have preferred she use one of his titles, but he rarely corrected anyone in such a wise and was not about to start now.

Rebecca Butler

She gently took the wee dragon from her beloved and smiled as she held it so gently. She looked it over carefully and tilted her head at Romain's question. "Kai...." She said after a while. "It means both 'Fire' and "Fighter' so it's fitting." She giggled softly and went to sit down, placing the young drake in her lap, and allowing it to look about and cuddle her.

"He is perfect! Yes you are!" She chuckled softly, having never actually seen a dragon but one, and that had been her mother's dragon. "Look how he looks everywhere. So observant. And his scales, so reflective and beautiful." She gently lifted him up, and he gave a bit of a squawk, but he stayed still and just stared at her. "Good confirmation. Good form and body length. YOU will be an avid flyer when you are older, my wee one."

She smiled brightly over to Romain and secretly wondered what he thought of her reaction. It was a tender moment, and she motioned him over to join her, if he so wished.

Airyanna Dahlia

Romain could not deny that the tiny dragon was indeed quite adorable. "Kai," he repeated, earning a chirp from the baby dragon. "It would seem he accepts the name." He held a finger out to Kai's snout, and it sneezed, blowing a little jet of steam that he felt the heat of. He could see that Allya would raise him well. "Let us show him to his new bed," he suggested.

Rebecca Butler

She beamed at Romain's idea and nodded in earnest. Picking Kai up gently and cuddling him in her arms, she turned to walk with her beloved to the room where the bed sat. The little dragon seemed to be interested in where they were going and seeing the bed, squawked again and wiggled in Allya's arms.

She gently set him down in the bed, and watched as Kia sniffed about it a few times before rolling all around and over it like a cat would. She giggled softly as she smiled over at Romain. "I think he likes it, my Love."

Airyanna Dahlia

"Then I did not waste valuable gold on the best artisans in the land," Romain said with something very like approval. "He is a good boy, are you not, Kai?" Earning another happy chirp.

"Then I shall leave you to it," Romain said. Heading out to the grounds to check on the soldier's training. He assumed Allya knew what, and how often, to feed a dragon, how to tend it's grooming, avoid scale sickness, and all such since she had wished to have her own dragon.

Rebecca Butler

Allya watched as Romain reached out to pet Kai and smiled softly. Though when he turned to leave, she turned to call him back, for he didn't have to leave so suddenly. But he was already gone.

Turning back to Kai, she smirked as she sat down beside him. "He's not really so bad...nor as tough as he looks or tries to be." She spoke to the Dragonling who purred and chirped at her.

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Handmaid Wren

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Light in the Dark, Friday, February 10 (month 5)

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Kai Meets Morgul

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The Evil of the Eldest Brother

Romain's Administrative Duties, Day 2

The Glory of Love

Samine: Just trying it on

Captain Hook's Pictograph

The Perfect Bed

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Teen Allya @ Marcello

Airyanna Dahlia

Romain/Allya, day 4

Romain's Administrative Duties

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Airyanna Dahlia added a new photo to the album: Castles Vylia and Doruba — with Rebecca Butler.

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