Let me steal this moment from you now [Saalyn]

[Valencia]

She sighed happily, a smirk of bliss turning up her lips as she slipped the corset from her torso. The burnished copper of her skin tingled at being freed from captivity and she rolled the smooth line of her shoulders and spine as the rest of her layered white dress fell with a whisper around her ankles.

With a moan she sank knee deep into the icy water, the mountain pond's surface moving up to devour her form hungrily. Immediately her nerves screamed with protest at being thrust so carelessly into such a violent chill, but she relished the feeling, running tender fingertips over the ripples. Humming to herself, she lifted her hands to the dark sky, the red light of the day eclipse seeming to give her a sidhe-like glow. She would have it soon, she pacified herself, turning her face toward the combined moon and sun and basking in the biting cold.

The water's temperature would keep away others searching for a dip, all the more pity since her naked glory would go unnoticed for the time. Some might consider such a blatant display of nudity in such weather an ultimate sign of vulnerability. Valencia was ignorant of such a state. She was in her element here - the water responded to her clear hum like a devoted servant, it always had. Dirty half-blood as she was, she was goddess here and the fact warmed her blood and drove the chill away.

She spun slowly, arms snaking up to wave and wind to music she created with every motion, with every reflection of pale light off her bronze body. She twisted her wrists and curved her body to and fro, falling into an organic rhythm that matched the flow of water. Lithe and feminine, every line she made is part of a symphony - dark and cold and thrumming with some deviant plan she isn't telling. Valencia's music is the music of beautiful nightmares, leaving one in agonizing ecstasy somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. It teased. It stabbed. It was the embodiment of empty promises and chafed hearts. And while a lack of an audience was not her preferred way of performing, she was at her most natural, most enticing, and most divine at these moments.

She danced her phoenix dance and hummed her siren tune and plotted for tomorrow.

[Saalyn]

She had meant to return to her chambers, to shed her blood-stained clothing and rinse the crimson taint from her flesh, but in losing herself to her thoughts, Saalyn found herself outside instead. The light breeze flirted with the loose strands of blonde hair that had fallen since she had pulled it back at the beginning of the night, and it caressed her face as she gazed skyward, seeing the eclipse for the first time with her silvery eyes.

It was an ominous sign, she thought, considering everything that had happened in the relatively short period of time since she had been appointed a High Court member. First the mysterious attack on one of her fellow Unseelie, then the appearance of the Sluagh King, Segwyn followed by the merciless attack on the Festival of Imbolc by an enemy only known as the Shade…Saalyn had longed for excitement, but this was all too much, all too fast. All she had wanted was to see her King crush the critics that tarnished his name, to bring ruin to those Seelie fools—especially their Queen, after meeting her in-person. But now it seemed that all of Alanor was at risk, including her beloved kingdom and all that it stood for.

The Niceven sighed, mentally reprimanding herself for such negative thinking as she continued her mindless trekking. It surely wasn’t wise for anyone to be walking outside for no reason under the current circumstances, especially someone of her position, lacking any personal guard or weaponry to defend herself. Perhaps it was her Sidhe blood, along with her Restorative Hand, that allowed her to flippantly dismiss the thought of turning back.

No…no, it was more than that. She could not return yet. She needed to distance herself from the carnage, from all the death and suffering, if only for a short while. It was not the gore that bothered her, but the amount of it. How her magic began to pulse through her upon gazing at a mangled body, screamed at her to fix it, fix it, fix it. To fix it now even if she was too physically and mentally exhausted to perform the process any more. Saalyn likely would have collapsed if she had touched but just one more injured faerie, and so she had fled, although in a much more elegant and dignified manner than merely sprinting out the nearest door. She had managed to slip away after speaking with the King, and had had every intention of seeking refuge in her room before she found herself standing amongst the foliage outside of the caves.

Pausing for a moment, the woman dug the heels of her palms into her closed eyes, trying to erase the imagery of the countless opened bodies that littered the jade tiles of the Court Room and quiet the immediate surge of magic that gave rise because of it. Returning now would not be wise, Saalyn knew, not until she had enough time to recover her strength. And so she pressed onward into the thick of the trees, trusting that she would be able to find her way back once she felt fit to do so.

If she heard the singing or the rippling of the waters coming from the depths of the forest, she was never consciously aware, instead following the sound in a mental haze. It was as if she were being drawn in by the melodious resonance by something that was beyond her control. Saalyn only stopped just short of walking straight into the pond that had seemingly just appeared at her feet, and she blinked as if suddenly waking up from a dream.

Looking up from her feet, she could see there was a strange woman standing in the middle of the waters even under the minimal lighting of the eclipse. Disturbed, Saalyn stared at her intently. “Who are you?” the Niceven demanded with knitted brow, her voice low and stern and void of any feigned pleasantness.

[Valencia]

The siren glanced over a smooth bare shoulder, flashing the intruder a show of teeth before slowly turning to face her, brash and unconcerned in her nudity. The eerie black void of her eyes caressed the blonde woman's form, her head tilting as she grazed her from head to toe and back again. What good fortune that her newest audience member was none other then the Niceven herself, most powerful woman of the Unseelie world. Valencia felt the flutter of a blood rush in her neck and stood silent in the water for a long minute, watching the sidhe through dark lashes.

She did not answer, but took up her humming again, drifting idle hands over the water like a lover's caress as she floated toward the shallow's edge. Nymph-like she rose from the silver surface, rivulets hugging her curves as gravity forced them from the body they so loved. Always keeping up the crystal clear resonance of her melody, she circled the other woman, her stare dark and seemingly giving evidence to an underlying instability.

"Not an enemy, dear Princess. So there is no need for raised hackles," she said eventually, amusement coloring her voice. So paranoid, these sidhe. Always worrying so about intruders into their perfect, shining world. Always fretting over any new face and thinking only of what it could offer them. She could not wait to share a similar line of thought and was already calculating what good a mutual friendship with someone of Saalyn's standing could bring. Of course it would be obvious from the start that Valencia did not share the same pure blood in her veins. A minor hitch that she had trained herself for many years to overcome. She could move almost as smoothly as a sidhe. She could be magnanimous and arrogant. She could certainly think herself better then her fellow half-breeds.

She slipped her feathered skirt over a still gleaming wet body, keeping her bare back to Saalyn as she plastered her clothing back in it's proper place. She purposely shot a grin behind her though when it came to fastening her boned corset, gathering her long damp hair out of the way. "Do you mind?" she asked huskily, not at all discouraged by the lack of hospitality radiating from the Niceven. "I would have invited you to join me, but you don't seem in the mood to get wet. Next time, perhaps."

"So much pain and mourning in the wind tonight," she continued conversationally, her tone vacant and lacking any sympathy, but tinted with a shade of curiosity. "It certainly sounds like you would be exhausted. You are also the court medic, are you not? How patient you must be, much more so then I, to spend your time and energy on those...careless enough to get themselves injured. Is this chance meeting an escape attempt, I wonder?"

[Saalyn]

The woman’s continued silence unnerved Saalyn, but even as the other faerie began moving toward her, the Niceven stood her ground, keeping her eyes on the other’s lithe, nude body. She was a Nimbus, Saalyn could tell, but for a half-breed, the way she carried herself was much more like that of a full-blooded Sidhe. It wasn’t like the blonde hadn’t seen one of the lesser fae feign being something better than they were—she couldn’t exactly blame them for trying either—but this one, she had a confidence that the others lacked. Saalyn wasn’t sure if it was a self-assurance borne from certainty or delusion—she would have to discover the truth before she could call it impressive.

Instead, Saalyn remained still but vigilant even as the mysterious Nimbus rose from the water and glided around her. The only movement from the Sidhe was that of her mantel tattoo, which slipped from it’s usual resting place on her back right shoulder to a spot on her chest, the hyena’s black eyes watching curiously between the white material of her blouse with it’s top buttons undone. As the woman circled behind her, it scampered back to Saalyn’s neck, taking up its perch on her exposed nape thanks to her current up-do.

The Niceven was still looking out over the stilled waters when the woman finally spoke, the amusement in her tone not failing to reach Saalyn’s ears. With her back still turned, the blonde openly scowled at the remark. She was well aware that her exhaustion was keeping her on edge, and she didn’t care to be told such by another, especially a complete stranger. Still, she did not allow the annoyance to creep into her voice when she spoke. “Apparently there is no need for proper introductions either,” Saalyn replied, sure to add her own playful lilt as to not have the comment taken completely the wrong way. She was eager to discover just who this woman was, though, and why she was outside so soon after the attack on Imbolc.

Saalyn could hear the rustling of clothing behind her and continued to keep her back to the woman to allow her some privacy despite the Nimbus’s apparent lack of modesty. At least, she did keep turned until she heard the other faerie ask for her assistance. Glancing over her shoulder, Saalyn saw what the dark-haired fae was implying, and after a moment’s pause, she sighed a closed the distance between them. Although she thought herself better than following the whims of some copper-skinned Nimbus, Saalyn also cared not be considered rude, and so the blonde took the corset’s strings in her hands and tugged firmly.

As she deftly laced up the bodice, she remained in her silent state, her eyes on her hands though they remained unfocused, her mind elsewhere. This was such an easy task, a welcome change from her earlier work. Saalyn found it a relief to know that her hands could do something other than cover the wounds of the dying. It reminded her that she was more than just her magic.

But then, as if this woman was tuned into her thoughts, the Nimbus mentioned the injured mass back in the caverns, and snapping out of her daze, Saalyn pulled the ties of the corset tightly enough to hear the material groan in protest. She blinked, and then her ashen eyes narrowed in a mixture of uneasiness and slight repulsion, the light from the eclipse making them appear to glow silver. “Being ambushed by shadows is not something I would call carelessness,” she hissed as she quickly completed her work, finishing the knot tautly before backing away several steps.

Turning away from the woman, Saalyn placed her hand upon the nearest tree to brace herself as she leaned heavily against it. She could feel her fatigue creeping back into her sore limbs and silently cursed herself for allowing her legs to carry her so far away from home. “Not everyone is capable of defending themselves to easily,” she added, this time much more calmly and quietly, ignoring the woman’s comment about the chance of their meeting. Saalyn didn’t want to admit that she had run away from the catastrophe, that she had to get away. What kind of Niceven would she be to admit such a weakness?

Glancing back over her shoulder, Saalyn stared at the woman with a blank expression. “I take it you were not present at the Festival then, if you can talk so ill of the wounded. You should see with your own eyes the destruction that was wrought at that place. Had you been there, you might not have faired so well yourself.”

[Valencia]

Saalyn's fingers on the chilled skin of her back brought a shiver and a sigh from her as she waited patiently to be laced. The Niceven was a closed book, her stance both rigid and weary, her face giving away nothing but her eyes full of secrets she wasn't telling. She smelled like the roses of the court to Valencia and the siren discovered a desire to brush a wayward strand of ashen hair from the woman's face.

She did not. She only continued to glance at her through sooty lashes over her shoulder, taking Saalyn's chastising with a pretty hint of a sly smile. "Perhaps careless is not a word for your bereaved fallen then. Perhaps it is for certain leaders who do not listen to warnings and choose to indulge in parties and damn the rumors," she retracts graciously, not out of remorse for those she'd insulted, but merely to stem the flash of anger that had risen in the blonde sidhe. While Valencia would have liked nothing more then to experienced the pure blood's wrath first hand and seen her in action, it was evident the woman was exhausted and while the siren could be cruel when called for, she was not unnecessarily mean to those she admired.

When the Niceven retracted to brace herself, Valencia's eerie stare flickered with concern and she floated over to the tree to try to lock Saalyn's arm within her own, in a gesture that two women might escort each other through a garden promenade. She did not offer her weight or support, merely the suggestion of assistance. "An opportunity perhaps for the Unseelie to better train their warriors for just such a situation, then. Along with the diplomats and other lackeys who cannot always rely on protection. How unfortunate for us to be caught unawares twice," she offered with a tilt of her head, stepping forward to encourage a start to the long walk back to the castle.

She waved away Saalyn's disgust at her callous attitude toward the Imbolc attack. "Oh no! I wouldn't be caught at one of those barbaric customs unless absolutely ordered. I'm sure it was a pity to see it razed to ruin though," she counters with a tilling laugh, sounding like silver bells in the chill of the night. She takes up to humming the verse from her water song between bouts of speaking, sounding perhaps more unstable then she is. Or just more flighty. It serves it's purpose, shielding the underlying ruthlessness from those who think her only pretty and simple.

"And you may be right, my Princess, I am too concerned about my appearance to bother soiling it with swordplay. But ruin and pain do not concern me." There is a strange glow in her eyes as she admitted this, like the first spark of a flame catching kindling. It vanished just as quickly and the siren was back to staring unblinkingly at her newest playmate. She pauses with a mysterious smile and finally reached up in attempt to tenderly cup Saalyn's face with a manicured hand. "After all, there are so many things worse then death, are there not, sweet Niceven?" she asked lovingly, something bittersweet in her melodic timbre.

"And you may call me Valencia."



ooc: so I sorta moved them by having them walk...if that's not ok just lemme know and I'll change it.

[Saalyn]

Saalyn’s wariness of the stranger did not ease as the other woman continued to speak, in fact, her caution only continued to rise. The Niceven listened to the words being uttered, but could not help but feel that there were unheard meanings skillfully weaved amongst them—a sour taste hidden behind a sweet coating. If anything was clear to her, it was that this dark-haired woman was smart, which could also make her exceedingly dangerous. Saalyn knew that she would have to be on her guard, especially in her presently fatigued state.

Perhaps that was why she had placed some distance between them, however short lived it was, and when she felt Valencia’s presence at her side, Saalyn’s jaw clenched. She was in no mood to dance around with pleasantries and political ambitions, which is what she expected this woman was after considering her topics of choice. Saalyn had found it to be one of the most tiring aspects of her position as Niceven—discerning which would-be courtiers actually had a true interest in their kingdom and it’s people, and which were only striving for power.

It was a hypocritical thought, perhaps. After all, Saalyn herself had worked her King’s ego on that fateful day in his bedchamber. But she had also done so speaking only in truths, and honestly believed that her talents could be of use to him and her fellow citizens. And hadn’t she done exactly that? Used her skills and assets for what she thought was best for the people? Saalyn wouldn’t be so arrogant to call herself the best fitted for the position—that was a decision for her King to make—but while she retained the title of Niceven she would do all that she could to live up to that honor.

But this woman, Saalyn pondered as she allowed herself to be escorted back towards the caves, what was she striving for? Although she supposed that her continued silence could be misinterpreted as a lack of focus or interest, the Niceven remained silently vigilant as Valencia rambled on. But then they suddenly stopped moving, and those black, void-like eyes were looking straight into her gray ones. Saalyn sensed the movement of the woman’s hand before she saw it, and the blonde quickly shifted her head away to only feel the brushing of Valencia’s fingertips across the smooth flesh of her cheek. Her mantel tattoo was at the spot of contact in an instant, snapping at those offending digits before the hyena appeared to cackle and stare at the woman accusingly.

“What exactly is it that you are after, Nimbus?” Saalyn interrogated, her ashen eyes holding Valencia’s unwaveringly, their silver glow adding a fierce expectancy to her gaze. She was too tired to fool with word games and chose instead to get right to the heart of the matter. Daring to lean in a little closer, the Niceven proceeded, her words spoken quickly and precisely and with a controlled edge. “If you seek my approval, you are doing a poor job of obtaining it. Everything up to this point—every word, every movement—has screamed of distrust,” she continued, pausing long enough to move back to her previous position though she maintained her eye contact with the other woman. She gave a small shrug. “What reason do I have to believe anything that you say?”

Slipping away from the woman, Saalyn sighed, the sound more like that of a tired laugh. If the Nimbus wanted to play, then she would oblige, but only to an extent. “You’re going to have to provide me some evidence as to your worth,” she added, taking a few steps before turning on her heels to face the woman again. She shot Valencia a small, coy smile. “You do have some potential in you, Nimbus, that I can see. Prove to me that you can wield that talent if, like myself, you care not for brandishing swords.”

[Valencia]

She conceded a small sigh of defeat at the Niceven's aloofness stepped back up a notch, raising an arched brow reproachfully at the woman's mantel as it snarled near her fingertips. "Bad dog," she chided the tattoo in her feminine lilt, her own tamarin above her right breast giving a defensive howl and leap up her chest. She did not retreat as Saalyn leaned in, instead gave a half-simper that was both encouraging and taunting.

"How typical are the Sidhe, always thinking one holds ulterior motives that may lead to their demise. I simply can't imagine where this constant paranoia comes from. How you ever make allies in the first place is quite beyond me," she said calmly, flicking her long still damp hair over the opposite shoulder, like a bored debutante may try to break the awkward still in conversation at a ball.

"And it's rather rude for you to assume I know what I want when I don't even know myself," she added with a sniff. It was a half-truth. She of course knew what she wanted, what she needed...but not from Saalyn. She met the silver eyes unabashedly and pondered how best a relationship between them can work to her benefit, but she is unsure of the mechanics of it. She did not need help getting her foot in Cel's door - her own various talents will do that job for her. But there was something pulling her toward settling in a bond with the blonde woman she could not put her finger on. Perhaps she was just letting her hormones gain the upper hand for control of her judgment. "It's not my fault you naturally see an enemy where there is not one. You should have chosen another place of residence if you seek bosom companions around every corner. You have no more reason to believe what I say then I do to believe that you have the means to run this court as smoothly as they claim you can. But I do, because I choose to have faith in my fellow Unseelie. Perhaps you should do the same."

There was no anger in her tone, only something hinting at reprimand and amusement and she cocked her head as Saalyn leans back, mirroring the motion till they rocked back in syncopation. The effortless smile returns to her face as the Niceven's request and she dipped into a curtsy (only half in mockery) and rose with a laugh. "Then by all means, my Princess, tell me what I must do to win your affection. I shall move heaven and earth at your command. My tongue is yours for the taking, for I must admit I do have a loathing for swords beyond defending what is mine." She skipped a pace away from the other Fae and flung her slender arms wide in a turned circle.

She hummed a few bars of a new song, this one not any less seductive then the last and when she stopped, she had returned her never failing eye contact, her palms lifted in supplication. "You are the hand of Cel, my darling, and therefore I am yours to do with what you will. But if you seek my approval, dear Niceven, then you will call me Valencia and not by a defect beyond my control." Her sly lips and black eyes hold secrets she could be willing to share - but not quite yet.

[Saalyn]

“What you call paranoia, I refer to as caution,” Saalyn replied evenly, unaffected by Valencia’s continued criticism of her suspicion, “I am the Niceven of the Darkling Throng—I have more to worry about than just my own well-being. You could say that it is my obligation to question that which the common citizen does not see. I merely do for them what they cannot.”

Pausing, the blonde crossed her arms over her chest and her legs at the ankles. To those familiar with her, the stance was a sign that Saalyn was calming, feeling much more comfortable now that they were actually beginning to communicate rather than play childish mind games with one another. Her wariness of Valencia wasn’t completely gone, but a gradually increasing sense of understanding was taking its place.

Again Saalyn fell silent as she listened to what Valencia had to say, meeting the mockery in the woman’s tone with an amused grin of her own. This Nimbus liked to jump to conclusions, it seemed. She didn’t appear to have a very high opinion of the Sidhe either, despite her best efforts to try to mirror them. How ironic, Saalyn thought with a small chuckle that she hid behind her hand. She vaguely wondered if the Nimbus was even aware of this as she glanced back up to meet the woman’s gaze, the mirth still visible in her gray eyes, although its reason for being there was likely unclear.

“I am not looking to possess you in any sense of the term, Valencia. I simply want to know what you can offer the Unseelie Kingdom,” the Niceven explained coolly, “You must know that our King favors talent over flattery. So do I, and I can see that talent is something that you possess.” Breaking away from the spot in which she had settled, Saalyn began walking down the path they had started down earlier without a glance back as she expected Valencia would follow. “However, I believe that your talent could thrive if you would only let it. I want to see greatness, and right now, you are holding back.” The blonde continued, still keeping her eyes forward, “Elusiveness is an activity that those cowardly Seelie partake in. The Unseelie favor the forthright. Speak what you intend to say, and you will go far.”

This time, it was Saalyn who initiated their halt, and as if to express her continued sense of comfort around the other woman, she reversed their earlier positions, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of dark hair behind Valencia’s ear. “I want to expect great things from you, Valencia, but I need you to be honest with me,” she said quietly, their faces close and the sincerity in Saalyn’s eyes clearly evident, “What are your intentions with our Court?”

[Valencia]

If Saalyn believed Valencia held any sort of contempt for the sidhe, then the siren was doing her job well. There was no quick conclusions, no disdain held on her part. In fact it was quite the opposite - if Valencia felt any sort of grudge it was stemmed solely from a burning, primeval jealousy that consumed her soul like a fire. She was a true thespian if the true nature of her feelings toward Saalyn's kind were so thoroughly masked and she mentally preened at the fact. Saalyn may put stock in blunt honesty, but Valencia preferred to adhere to the believe that all lies were based on truths and therefore not necessarily a bad thing. And frankly, she was much better at the later then the former.

Still she was hesitant to play her game at full force with the blonde sidhe and contemplated her choice of words carefully so as not to offend the Niceven since it just wasn't within her character to speak in full truths. Valencia was birthed from creatures in turn bred from riddles and mystery. And it just wasn't fair to be held to Saalyn's standards yet since she was what she was and had not reached the point where it was within her control to change permanently. "Well I am sorry to hear that," she sighed wistfully at Saalyn's rejection, twirling her wrist as if modeling a priceless piece of jewelry as spoke. "But surely it is possible to be blessed with both talent and a penchant for flattery, my darling Niceven. There are such things as 'women of all trades', after all. But I am glad to have your vote of confidence.

She did follow. Taking up her humming once more, she danced along side the blonde woman, till they were shoulder to shoulder. She was never much one to trail like a guided puppy after all. "Oh come now! How decidedly you state your opinion as if it's fact. Is there not some level of elusiveness in diplomacy? There is a time and purpose for abrasiveness and it is the sign of civilization to sometimes hold one's tongue for the better good. After all, sometimes it's just rude to be so blunt," she laughed. She would tell Saalyn what she wanted to know, but she could not, would not bare her soul and all her secrets to anybody - no matter how agreeable or usable they may be.

She was mildly startled when the other woman stopped and in mirroring fashion tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear. With a pleased purr, she leaned into the pale hand, delighting in the thrill that coursed over her skin at the contact. Saalyn was indeed lovely and at this close of a distant, Valencia could make out the streaks of shining silver in those grey eyes. "Why my intentions are the same as yours, sweet one," she says sweetly, the red ring around her irises seeming to make her eyes burn. "I shall serve my King in whatever way he deems fit and relish in the glory of his kingdom and it's people. I must say, they are magnificent from what I've experienced thus far." And with that she leaned forward to press her lips lightly against the corner of Saalyn's mouth, the kiss meant to be tender more so then romantic.

When she pulled back to her original place, her face is soft, if not still closed. She moved her intense gaze over the sidhe's face, trying to gage some reaction there. "I know perhaps that is not the answer you wish, but you must understand, my Princess - I am not born Unseelie. I am fire and water. I am song and riddle. I will contradict because it pulses in my veins. I will jest because it is in my nature to do so. I do not give you what you wish to hear simply because I do not know how. All these things I am and will do, but naught of it includes deceiving you. Can that be enough for now?"

[Saalyn]

“Is that truly surprising? For me it is fact, and I am merely stating what I believe,” Saalyn retorted as they walked, a bit curious as to Valencia’s reaction. She only spared the woman a fleeting glance before she began to explain further. “It is my belief that if one does not wish to speak the truth then they should simply hold their tongue altogether,” Saalyn stated, “After all, untruths can be the source of many unpleasant troubles if the reality is discovered by the ones you’ve lied to. I would much rather forego that nuisance, even if it means stepping on a few toes here and there.”

When Valencia kissed her, the Niceven reigned in whatever surprise she felt just as quickly as it might have flitted across her features. The action wasn’t entirely shocking given the woman’s previously examined disposition. Valencia had pushed, and Saalyn had pushed back. This was merely the rebuttal—the Nimbus was looking for another resulting reaction. But when it came to any sort of physical intimacy, Saalyn was particularly finicky. She had only ever invited a handful of Sidhe to her bedchamber, and even those few she had deliberated over for extensive periods of time before ever agreeing to be intimate with them at all. Of course, the Niceven herself saw nothing wrong with being particular in that matter, even if others viewed her as prudish.

Once Valencia’s lips had departed from her flesh, Saalyn’s tongue slowly reached out to taste the spot of contact. She saw it as no sort of romantic advance, but instead laughed, and a knowing smirk replaced the subtle grin that previously graced her features. “Typical Nimbus. Searching for power at the end of a Sidhe’s touch, is it?” she murmured, chuckled again, and then met the other woman’s gaze straightforwardly. “However, I’m afraid that I am not the one you need to speak with on such matters,” she explained seriously, although that hint of mirth was still present, “Our King, on the other hand, has helped many like yourself achieve that common goal, and I’m sure he’d be more than willing to assist you in your endeavor.”

Saalyn chose to leave out the part about having to sacrifice one’s body for the cause, not because she was trying her hand at being elusive, but because if Valencia did seek out Cel for such a thing, then she would find out from the man himself. The Niceven thought it was much more…poignant for one to make that decision when the goal was within reach and the handsome reaper was standing before them, presenting the options. To speak of such things now would be stealing away part of her King’s pleasure in his sport, and that was something Saalyn could not bring herself to do.

Brushing the entire exchange aside, the Niceven once again resumed their trek back towards the Unseelie Court, her ear bent to Valencia’s speech about elements and wordplay. “And that will have to suffice, I suppose,” Saalyn replied once the other woman had finished, “Believe me when I say that I want you to be your own person, Valencia. I want you to think your own thoughts, for different perspectives provide us with more insight, so long as your ideals coincide with those of our Court.” Saalyn turned her head, and offered Valencia a smile, “Try to get along, I’m sure we’ll be glad to have you.”