Tip-Toeing the Line [closed]

[ashori]

It was night, the only time Ashori actually felt comfortable leaving his room to wander the court. In reality, were it not for Timpe insisting that he needed the exercise, Ashori would never venture out. However, he could not leave his mantel unattended, especially considering the strength of the mantels he knew other Fae to wield. So, to appease Timpe Ashori had agreed to leave his room for a stroll, but only at night. That way the number of Fae about would be quite a bit less -or so Ashori hoped- and the likelihood of having to actually converse with one would be slim. Still, Ashori ventured with caution. Dressed in baggy black sweatpants, an enormous black and gray zip-up hoodie, Ashori had pulled the hood up to conceal his face. Still, his sidhe glow was evident should someone get a close enough look. Ashori had never been able to turn it off, and it was likely he never would be able to. So, the best he could do was shield it from view.

Ashori practically clung to Timpe's side as the gigantic stag strode rather confidently along the outside of the court. Bigger than average for his species, Timpe was an impressive looking beast. Boasting a rack of over a hundred centimeters in height, the barasingha was not the type of mantel that just 'blended in.' No. He drew a lot of attention due to his beauty, and the power behind it. Even so, Timpe was a flight creature, not a fight creature, and Ashori's nervousness did not help. Every so often the beast would paused and snort, pawing the ground with one hoof in an effort to both relax and send a message out to the surrounding Fae, a kind of 'don't-mess-with-me' message.

It was cold. Ashori's fingers dug deeper into the fur of Timpe's powerful shoulder as it sought refuge from the cold. Although Ashori was warm, he still shivered ever so slightly, more from nerves rather than the cold. Over the past few weeks he had come to relax in the Seelie court, even call it home, but it was still hard for him to traverse its grounds without a sort of paranoia hanging over him. Ashori didn't know why. He didn't have any particular reason to be afraid. No other Fae had tempted to harm him, nor had he encountered any problems with wildlife. Still, that ever-present fear ate at him without mercy, a past affliction left to torment him.

Finally, Timpe found a place fit for grazing. With a few quick swipes of his hoof he cleared an area large enough and dipped his head downwards. Ashori shifted from foot to foot, his dark eyes directed towards the the center of the Seelie court, where the palace was situated. Despite his lengthy stay Ashori had yet to really meet the queen, though he had witnessed her on several other occasions. He knew it was time that he find a way to approach her, for his fear of exile was much bigger than his fear of socialization. Still, now was not the time. Ashori's eyes darted from side to side as his fingers trailed across Timpe's shoulder. He silently urged the mantel to hurry and finish, but he knew that Timpe, the stubborn creature he was, would insist on staying for quite some time. With a sigh, Ashori resigned himself to waiting.

(ooc: I realize that deer...in the winter...probably don't have horns. Yeah. Imma just roll with it).

[Queen Annette]

The night called to the Queen of the Seelie. Though most would have spoken against it, the queen wandered the court with only the company of her mantel. Of course her Goblin Blade was sheathed at her side and the violent magic that flowed through her was ready to be activated at any moment, there was still an air of caution when it came to the monarch venturing out amongst the court, alone. Though the faerie magic protected Annette from being assassinated, it did not keep her safe from Trance and those who would claim the throne in her absence. Truthfully, Annette didn’t fear the aggression of any faerie; she had proven to be one of the most preeminent warriors in all of the land, and until another held a Goblin Blade title, she could see no one as her equal.

Annette heard the sounds of the little red fox sniffing the ground in front of them as they walked. But she looked to the sky; she studied the dark branches and their silhouette, the dark blue sky that was lit dimly by the moon. She had chosen the worse night to study the sky, she thought, if she wished to catch a glimpse of the creatures that had been rumored to be flying about she should have chosen a night where the sky was well lit and there were no many clouds. She sighed, looking back to her mantel; she had an inkling as to what the beings were. If she was correct in her assumptions, she wouldn’t be pleased.

Court had been draining. Out of the faerie she had encountered thus far only one didn’t strike her as a presumptuous twit, angst filled adolescents who felt the need to rebel against rules. Annette had never the type to rule with a heavy hand, but in her many years as monarch she had seen that the softest rulers often found themselves with a quiet court that didn’t make much trouble, but lacked loyalty. The Unseelie King was the type to make war, and with the current rumors flying about she needed to make sure she was prepared, she needed a loyal court.

The queen’s mind was pried from thought at the sound of the fox’s footsteps ceasing. She looked up to find the creature gazing at two figures that were barely visible in a nearby clearing. The Queen swept forward, curious as to whom it was. As she descended upon them she noticed one was faerie and one was a mantel. The Red Queen entered the clearing, speaking upon arriving, ”Such a bitter night. I expected everyone else to be tucked snuggly in their beds.” It was an odd statement if you looked at the queen’s attire: a red dress that barely covered her, sleeves made from red lace with fish net stockings pulled over her porcelain white flesh. Ankle high shoes covered her feet, but they enhanced her height by two inches or more, definitely made for looks as opposed to practical use. Annette smiled mischievously, studying the faerie and his mantel before her.

[ashori]

Both Ashori and Timpe had heard the sounds of the Queen approaching before she had even spoke. As a flight creature, Timpe was on the constant watch –with eyes and ears- for any and all danger, and this was a habit Ashori had adopted as well. Out of all the Fae residing in the court, Ashori had least expected the Queen to be wandering out so late at night, much less approaching him. The slender male instinctively leaned up against his mantel, pressing his body into Timpe’s muscled flesh as if attempting to melt into it. Timpe snorted, somewhat annoyed at Ashori. From what he smelled there was no imminent danger. The Queen’s mantel was small, an ankle biter, and the likelihood of the Queen attacking them unprovoked was slim. Ashori knew this. His response was merely a bodily reaction, not a conscious one, brought upon by the sudden appearance of an authoritative figure.

”My Queen…” Ashori’s voice was barely audible, a whisper at best and shadowed by the hood of his clothing. His eyes remained adverted from the female, his body facing her at an angle, though she would be able to see enough to recognize his signature glow. He knew enough to give her his full attention, but his own insecurities prevented him from facing her full on. Still, he did not shake in fear, nor did his voice tremble. Instead, Ashori resigned himself, as he often did, to the fact that he was now in a conversation, with the Queen no less. There was no escaping it, save for running, and that would be quite rude.

He scuffed his foot on the ground as his fingers ran themselves over Timpe’s side, ”Timpe insisted on a walk M’lady. I’m sorry if we intruded in any way.” His mantel snorted again and peered at the scarlet clad woman, his eyes narrowed. It was probably quite a comical sight; a flight creature displaying bravery while the top of the food chain practically crumbled at the feet of the beautiful Queen.

[Queen Annette]

She shook her head, ”No, I had just been hoping for a bit of company.”[/b] Annette reached up tightening the golden jewelry that held her hair in a ponytail. She smiled, the image of a perfect lady as she sauntered towards him with small steps, her hips swaying with every movement. The little red fox moved alongside of her, its green eyes watching the deer with a hunger that was not akin to such tiny creatures. Yet the predatory glare was undeniable, and one would have been correct in saying the creature appeared to be more lion than fox in demeanor.

Annette drew towards Ashori, keeping her distance as not to upset his mantel, as it seemed to be the backbone of the pairing. She continued to smile, blatantly studying him with those rose kissed eyes that were perpetually wicked, outlined by thin eye brows and long, thick eyelashes. Reticent Fury then moved her gaze to that of the mantel. She watched the deer and then spoke, ”Your mantel is strong and stately.” Her head turned swiftly to him, and had it not been for her sidhe grace it would have been more like a snapping motion. ”Yet you avoid my gaze.” She giggled, thoroughly amused by the situation.

She stepped even closer to Ashori. Behind her the shadows seemed to elicit the two ghostly images, the twin figurines of the lions emerged from the woods, their demeanor menacing despite their lack of features. She leaned close to Ashori, ”What is your name, sidhe prince? You have nothing to fear, I am your queen.”[/b][/color]

[ashori]

Though the Queen was beautiful, and she was the Queen, there was a predatory nature to her being, a nature that struck a chord in Ashori’s mind. His past, though hazy, was wrought with predators that sought his flesh, his mind, his love. It was because of this that Ashori shrunk back even further as she approached, not by choice, rather by instinct, his body and mind so marred by hideous deeds that he could not help but feel wary when in the presence of a strong-willed individual. Timpe was clearly uncomfortable the closer the Queen got, stomping his foot and tossing his head in what could be taken as a threatening gesture. The fact that the lions now slunk in behind the Queen did little to reassure the beast, and he snorted a blast of crystallized air rather rudely in her direction.

Ashori quickly darted a spider-like hand to cover Timpe’s nose, his head jerking up at the same time. Then, somewhat forgetting himself, Ashori looked to the scarlet Queen, his swirling brown and gold eyes regretful, ”I’m sorry…I… He hesitated, his voice caught in his throat as he realized he had yet to answer her question. Ashori’s gaze dipped just a tad as his voice, never above a whisper, slithered from his lips, ”Ashori, Seeker of the Seelie Court, Prince of Clairvoyance, Master of Slight Illusion…My Queen.” He dipped his head in a gesture of respect. Though Ashori remembered next to nothing of his previous time in Alanor, the old court traditions came naturally to him, and flew from his mouth with little hesitation. However, upon hearing them, the Sidhe paused.

Clairvoyance? Oddly enough the faerie had little knowledge of his own power. After he had arrived in Alanor it had taken him close to a week to realize he had the ability to subtly alter his image. Aside from that Ashori had, at times, experienced intense, surreal visions, most of which involved blood and pain. He had done his best to block them out, dismissing them as nightmares, though now as he uttered his own title the faerie realized very quickly that they were not nightmares. They were real, and they were visions of his past.

The shock he experienced probably never registered on his face, though it lingered for a few moments in his eyes. Ashori was not one who displayed emotion readily, the majority of his own emotions previously beaten from him, raped from him until he no longer knew what they were. The Sidhe fell silent, per usual, and though he realized his silence would most likely not please the Queen, he seemed unable to do more than answer questions.

[Queen Annette]

”Do not apologize. She said quickly, raising a hand in a lighting fast motion. She moved even closer, studying the sidhe with a look that could have been mistaken for disgust had one not noticed her inquisitive slant in her gaze. ”I demanded no apology, you appeared weak when you offered one Ashori, Seeker of the Seelie.” As he dipped his head the queen reached out, two icy cold fingers and their red nails lifting his chin with the slightest bit of pressure. She met his gaze. She simply stared at him, letting the prince of clairvoyance’s mind wonder. The queen’s countenance was stern, that of a school teacher about to discipline a child who had committed some harmless offense.

”You are a Seelie sidhe. You could sit amongst my high court without a fear, yet you choose to avoid such a fate. Why?” If clairvoyance was truly his power the sidhe should have climbed the ranks of many courts by now. Had Annette been gifted with foresight she would have ascended to power years before she initially had, and there she would sit for a thousand years more.

It was hard for Annette to conceive that a faerie denied his or her powers, when she so aggressively used her own as well as pursued more.

The queen’s hand fell away from Ashori, she glanced over her shoulder at the lions who were lingering ever closer with each passing second. Casually she spoke, ”If you could have one wish, what would it be?”

[ashori]

Ashori reflexively flinched at her stern tone, his fingers digging into Timpe's side. Had he any real sene of himself Ashori would have cursed his weakness, spit at it. Still, the faerie knew nothing else. The torture of his mind and his body had raged hundreds of years. Ashori was a toy, a broken one at that, nothing more. "You could sit amongst my high court without a fear, yet you choose to avoid such a fate.why?" Her words rung through his ears, repeating themselves over and over as he stared blankly at her, his face expressionless. Why? Ashori didn't know. The memories of his past had been taken from him, and without them he had no idea as to why his body was the way it was, why he had to fight back the gut-wrenching anxiety that constantly plagued him. Still, at the moment Ashori's body had relaxed into one of complete and utter submission. There was no fear reflected in his eyes....there was nothing.

Had the Queen perhaps known of Ashori's past she would have been a bit more understanding. Born from an elf-struck nimbus mother, Ashori was originally of nimbus blood. His mother who cared very little for him cast him aside, ignoring him as she sought the flesh of other Sidhe. Still, Ashori's father's blood was strong within him and he very quickly came of power at a very young age, something quite dangerous around a mother suffering from an illness hat had driven her insane. Ashori's beauty as a nimbus had been extraordinary, but as a Sidhe child with a golden voice he had become irresistible to his own mother. Ashori remembered nothing of his mother or what she had done to him, but he bore the scars that told the tales. His imprisonment was nothing more than a whisper in the back of his mind. The laughter, cooing and touching of his mother's friends? Gone, locked away for the time being.

When Ashori had managed to escape her he had found himself in Alanor. During that time he had been able to socialize, able to actually engage other faerie. Ashori had slowly broken out of his shell, and though he had kept mostly to himself, back then Ashori had still know how to smile. Now, after his horrible stint on Earth, that function was lost to him and he had not been afforded enough time after his loss of memory to attempt to rebuild it.

He took a long time to answer her initial question, as he himself had no clear way of responding. Still, he attempted to do so, his voice unwavering, "My memories are hidden from me My Queen. I know not of why I act nor am I able to prevent it. My mannerisms are carved into me by my past and though I have tried to reforge them I consistently fail." His eloquent words were perhaps the first insight into his original mind. Ashori had been a lover of books, philosophy and the fine arts. A fighter by no means, as a child he rather enjoyed a good book rather than a romping bout of play. Had he been allowed to grow unhindered, Ashori might have developed a taste for the court's politics, though he never would be as cutthroat or conniving as many other faerie.

Her next question caught him completely off guard. Ashori's first inclination was to mention his memories, yet from what he had seen through his mind's eye he felt as if the dead were better left buried. The Sidhe's delicate brow furrowed in contemplation, the first real emotions besides uncertainty that he had displayed. Material things meant very little to Ashori, and the companionship of other faerie simply scared him. But why? Timpe snorted softly and brought his head about to nuzzle his perplexed bonded, breaking Ashori from his bought of thoughtfullness. The Sidhe leaned into his mantel grateful for the warmth. Ashori watched the Queen silently for a few moments, his blank eyes now unwaveringly set upon her beautiful face. Finally, he spoke slowly, as if lacking certainty in his answer, "The ability to smile, My Queen." Ashori knew it to be a stupid answer. Still, over the past few weeks he had tried without success to find something worth smiling about. Even Timpe's enthusiastic greetings in the morning and constant flood of love could not bring a smile to Ashori's face. The little Sidhe felt broken and thought that if perhaps he could fix himself, if perhaps he could smile, he would be able to conquer his own inner unknown demons.

[Queen Annette]

She watched from scrutinizing eyes as he dug his grip into his bonded and struggled to answer her question. Every second that ticked away was a second she counted towards his weakness, the weakness she knew she would relieve him of if he pledged loyalty to her and her court. It was be no easy task, but it was necessary if she wished for the clairvoyant sidhe to serve her with his abilities.

Annette’s lips pursed, making her already thin and angular face even more thin, almost gaunt had it not been for the sidhe radiance perpetually permeating from her. She stepped even closer, now she was so close that their bodies nearly touched. The red fox, her mantel, had gone off by itself, no longer remaining to agitate the deer. Annette knew that the looming presence of the lion sentries would keep Ashori’s mantel at bay should any thoughts of defending Ashori manifest within its mind.

Annette was pleased with Ashori’s reaction to her next question. Though his response had yet to come she already knew that true contemplation, true emotion now governed him. In that moment Ashori was no longer gripped by a debilitating fear, he wasn’t the scared little forest creature he appeared to be, he wasn’t entirely a weakling.

Annette reached forward, her hand gripping his, interlacing fingers. She lifted his hand to her mouth, kissing it with ruby red lips and simultaneously activating her hand of power Blood. Ashori wouldn’t feel a thing, but when he drew his hand away the imprint of her lips would remain in the form of a blood blister. She lowered her eyes at him, ”I can return that ability to you, my darling prince. Pledge your loyalty to this court, become one of the Shining Throng, and I promise I will do that.”

[ashori]

Ashori no longer rejected the closeness of Annette’s body. Internally he had realized that there was no escaping it, and thus had resigned himself to being in her potent presence. As she curled her fingers over his hand he did not move nor object to it, though she may have been shocked to find just how cold his hand was. The blood blister she left upon his hand was noted but nearly completely ignored. Compared to the other markings that forever scarred his canvas, this one was of little concern. Still, it was the mark of his Queen, and in that it was beautiful. Ashori would not mind carrying it for the length of its stay. His eyes quickly strayed from it as he looked towards her directly.

How she intended to fulfill his wish was beyond him, though Ashori never expected her to. He was not asking her to grant his wish when he whispered it, nor did he think it necessarily grantable. Still, the very fact that she had offered her services, never mind that it was in return for his loyalty, was somewhat of a shock to Ashori. For several moments he could only watch her. Timpe on the other hand had understood the Queen’s words, and with a gentle snort the beast lowered his head and flicked his tail. He had been quick to judge. The woman before them was fierce, yes, but not without a few shining qualities.

”My Queen, I…” Ashori licked his lips to moisten them, as his words seemed stuck within his throat, ”I have never felt more at home than I do here and now, within the confines of your court and in the presence of your grace.” His voice, though never straying above a whisper, was a bit more solid as he attempted to show her he was speaking the truth. For a moment he seemed at a loss for what to do, so he merely maintained his level gaze, his body shifting to stand on its own. His answer had been given in the best and most honest way he knew. Timpe snorted and shook his head. Had he a mouth able to smile he would have done so. The fact that Ashori had stood on his own indicated a step forward, even if it may have been done consciously and with much effort. Timpe was pleased with the Matriarch’s effect on his bonded.

[Queen Annette]

The queen was satisfied when Ashori stayed within the sultry closeness of her body. She nearly pressed against him, as close as any lover. Though she couldn’t feel it, she knew his heart beat rapidly beneath his chest, pumping the blood that she could so easily call forth and end him. While Annette showed no outward sign of thinking these thoughts, it was all the queen could think of for a brief second. Her obsession with her magic, her talent with it had earned her the throne over lesser individuals and now she loved her gifts, enamored with them, where at one point the former muse forsook her violent gifts.

Annette was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of the mantel snorting. She giggled the sound of a young girl that didn’t sound out of place when one was to gaze upon Annette but certainly seemed out of place once you considered the source. She shifted her gaze towards the bonded, fighting the urge to reach out and stroke the creature as Ashori did, as she wasn’t sure how it would react.

The words the sidhe spoke pleased her even more than his willingness to remain close to her. Judging by the way the faerie looked and acted, Annette assumed he had been preyed on by females (and males) of the court before. Though Annette was a predator, she knew when to pull in her claws, and now was one of those times.

”Wonderful.” She simply said and she withdrew from him. She turned to the lions and took several steps toward them. Her strides were graceful and when she was at their sides she ran her hand over them, petting them. ”I am your protector, Ashori, just as these lions protect me. You have nothing to fear within these forests.”

The lions began to move across the clearing, moving away from Ashori and his bonded. Annette followed them, turned to him as she departed. ”I look forward to our next meeting. I like you Ashori.”

[ashori]

As Annette withdrew Ashori suddenly found that he could breath easier. Up until then he had been unaware of the fact that his breath had become shallow and infrequent, almost to the point of not breathing at all. Once relieved of this Ashori sucked air into his lungs, his chest expanding, his blood racing. Annette had been right in her assumption. His heart was beating fast, though from fear or excitement he did not know. His upper body shook slightly with the effort it took for him to draw in his long breath, the cold air caressing his lungs and nearly causing him to cough. He bit his lip to prevent it.

Ashori's dark golden flecked eyes watched the beautiful Queen as she ran her fingers along the rock flesh of her lions. They were gorgeous constructs, so powerful in stature that the Queen almost seemed diminutive next to them. Still, the fact that she wielded them without hesitation, the fact that she was their puppet master was easily visible. The Queen had a right to gloat in her power. She had, after all, come into it through her own hard work and ambition.

As the thin male watched her leave he dipped his head to acknowledge her words. Though no relief flooded into his body as he would have expected upon hearing her announcement, the air around him suddenly didn't feel as cold, the darkness as oppressing. His words caught in his throat as indecision marred his thought patterns. It was quite possible she would be out of earshot before he managed to whisper, "Thank you." Ashori's arms wrapped around his body and drew in his hoodie, further enshrouding his frail form. Timpe, alert, his regal head held high, watched as the crimson doused Queen withdrew. Though their contact with her had been brief, the beast had been impressed. Still, his trust would be hard won. Annette would have to live up to her words to impress the beast.