Reconaissance [Closed]

[Alecto]

It appeared there would be no sleep in Alecto’s foreseeable future. Having left the Seelie court in the afternoon, the Darkling envoy did not reach their home until late that night – a night made deeper by a blanket of cloud that spilled out from the mountains at dusk. But the Fury’s eyes were keen; she moved like a ghost, purposeful, unperturbed by the dark. The sounds were what bothered her, not the sights. Distant cries like eerie geese rang out from the woods, reminding Alecto of some forgotten thing, some whisper from the past. Perhaps they were cruel Gossip’s echo, merely, or else ripples from the questions that troubled her calm. What had the Red Queen meant, when she said Cel’s blood bore the responsibility of the Sluagh? What had she meant, when she claimed that Cel feared them (she herself would not use their name, was this not fear?) and why would he have sent his allies to convey that fear? How had the Unseelie helped the Seelie, that Annette would offer, after her rudeness and arrogance, the aid of the Shining Throng?

“It doesn’t make any sense.” she muttered, mostly to herself, although she doubted Saalyn’s mind was far from the same subject. “The creatures that attacked me were faerie,” she continued some internal train of thought, “and as our King said, the Fate would not allow unbonded animals to pollute the Faerie world. How can the Seelie be so confident in what they think they know and understand, if they have required our help in the past?” She felt her gloved hands clench into fists, her jaw tightening in frustration. She turned to Saalyn, fully: “If the Sluagh intended to attack the Unseelie, wouldn’t they have simply done it?”

She paused to listen – that foreboding flock was at it again, somewhere far-off – and exchanged a hardened glance with the Branwyn. Their journey was tense for a number of reasons, but Alecto was glad to be free of the Shining court. She did not think a night in their bowers would have been more restful than this agitated flight.

In time, the welcome caverns of their home loomed before them, inviting in their solidity and permanence. It seemed unquestionable that they would seek immediate audience with the King, despite the hour; he had expressed prompt interest before, and would surely be eager to hear of his rival’s reaction to the news. Alecto followed the hallway floor like a somnambulist, allowing memory to direct her course while her mind wandered, her hand slipped into her pocket. She had to tell him about the necklace, she knew. If his blood were involved, perhaps he knew something of “the heir.” And while she hoped no retribution would come of her reasonable delay, she felt simultaneously possessive of the amulet, protective of these secrets. Who was the fae, neither Sidhe nor Nightflyer? And what had he meant for her to do?

[Saalyn]

If Saalyn had disliked the Queen during their meeting, she disliked the woman even more after it was over. The words Annette had uttered as she and Alecto departed were deliberately spoken to make her over-think the entire situation she had found herself thrust right in the middle of, and to warrant suspicion of her King. And maybe she would have felt some distrust for the man had she been more informed on what the Sluagh actually were, where they originated, and their past interactions with the Unseelie. Saalyn’s anxiety stemmed more form this lack of knowledge than anything else. She didn’t care that Cel’s ancestors may or may not have allowed the Sluagh to remain in Alanor. She was dealing with something she didn’t understand, and it was making her continually more and more uncomfortable. She needed clarity, and she needed it soon.

Saalyn released an audible gasp when Alecto turned to her, having been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard a word the other woman had said until being addressed directly. The Signa’s body was tense, and she was obviously frustrated by the knowledge—or confusion—that had been borne from their meeting with the Queen. Saalyn felt the same, and did not have any reassuring answer to give her companion, so instead she placed a gentle yet steady hand upon Alecto’s shoulder, offering a small, fleeting smile. “All we can do is relay to the King what Annette has told us,” she stated calmly despite her own perplexity regarding the matter, “Hopefully he will be able to clarify her cryptic speech.”

She removed her hand from the woman and continued past her with a sigh. ”However, I do have to agree with you. Perhaps they do not have the strength to overthrow our kingdom, if that really is their intention. Stranger still is what they did to you...” Saalyn paused, and glanced back over her shoulder at Alecto, "Are you sure that you’ve told us everything that happened that night?” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, and her words were posed more as an open statement than an actual question, but the Branwyn’s gray eyes were centered on Alecto’s as she waited for some kind of response, either verbal or physical.

Or at least they were for a moment, before the howls sounded once again from beyond. Saalyn eyes scanned the treetops, though the rest of her remained unmoving. When the foreign cries seemed to fade into nothingness, she sighed once again, and turned back to the path ahead, proceeding forward in silence. The woods might be safe from unwanted ears, but it wasn’t from other creatures that could do far worse than eavesdrop on their conversation. This was no place to chat. The sooner they got back to the Unseelie Court the better off they’d be.

The blonde Sidhe only breathed a little easier once they had returned to the stone walls of their home, thankful for the protection that they offered from the elements. Saalyn kept her cloak around her for a while longer as they made their way to the Royal Palace, hoping it would aid in removing the chill of her body faster. She felt particularly closed off anyway, so perhaps having the leather material wrapped tightly around her body was comforting the woman in more way than one. Still, she hoped the King would be present when they arrived, if not, they would have to wait for a servant to inform him of their return, and Saalyn was ready for this little escapade to be over, if just for the evening.

[Segwyn]

The palace was quiet save for the King who knelt in the throne room, his leathery wings folded against his back. He head rested in his hand, fingers against his chin as he traced the stone floor with his other hand, one outstretched finger drawing whimsical lines, circles and shapes that were invisible in the immaculately clean chamber. He had been sitting in the quiet chamber for an hour now, no one aware of his presence but two servants who Cel continually used to deal with the Sluagh King. The servants who were sworn to secrecy.

Segwyn always visited the Darkling monarch in the dead of night, or at least he had when they had dealings long ago. More recently, the Sluagh King avoided the Unseelie at all costs but recent events had led to his reemergence, and subsequently, he had reenacted old traditions.

The King was annoyed, but he appeared calm. Most royalty would have been highly offended had they been kept waiting for such an extended period of time, at a time when the monarch was obviously not busy. Yet Segwyn was a different king than most and he hit his contempt for the sidhe lord well. He had nothing to gain by demanding Cel show face earlier next time. In fact, he had everything to lose by offending the sidhe.

He was quiet, having just refused a drink from the servants and did not expect any others to enter the chamber any time soon. Perhaps it was reckless for Cel and his staff to believe no one would seek audience with him this late, but who was Segwyn to judge? He knew almost nothing of Cel’s relationship with his people. However, as the doors to the throne room opened, Segwyn’s gaze trailed up towards the door. A look of surprise on his face, he didn’t move, he simply eyed the two sidhe women who stood there. ”Looking for Cel?” He said, boredom in his voice, but that was when he noticed the other woman. He raised an eyebrow, the memory from the Mists fresh in his mind.

He stood up quickly and bowed, ”King Segwyn, of the Sluagh.” He said.

[Skylla]

Thirst rips at Alecto. Her mouth feels dry and her tongue sticky. She is parched.

[Alecto]

[aw man, stuff is always happening to me ><]

“Looking for Cel?”

Alecto was hardly through the door, where her sleepwalker’s steps had led her and which her sleepwalker’s hands had opened, when every trace of fatigue suddenly left her in one explosive rush of adrenaline. The hand that had been in her pocket flung out to shield Saalyn and she stepped in front of her, drawing a blade with the other. Her sidhe glow flared, beyond her control – a product of her surprise more than anything. This shock was just: the strange faerie sitting in the throne room was none other than he who had attacked her in the mists. Their eyes met; he obviously recognized her. Alecto was expecting an attack (for surely, he was here on some dark mission against her King, and would respond poorly to opposition), but he stood and bowed, instead. She stiffened. “King Segwyn, of the Sluagh.”

The Fury considered this reaction, wariness coloring her face, her body still in a defensive posture, her blade still at the ready. She became aware of her powerful thirst in these tense seconds, but resisted it a moment longer, until she had determined that his deference was sincere. She stepped into the room. Slinging her pack onto the ground, her eyes trained on the man before her, she withdrew a waterskin and drained it, following this with several gulps of wine. It was a concentrated liquor – her lips stained red.

“I would be more polite if I hadn’t been kicked in the face, in recent memory,” Alecto commented, sizing him up. She felt as if she could drink another gallon of water, her thirst by no means slaked, but at least the parched feeling in her throat was temporarily soothed. Her body remained coiled like a spring, her sword, unsheathed. She stood closer to him than Saalyn, close enough to close the gaps in a few bounds, but made no move to attack yet. “Perhaps I should follow in the tradition of assault first, questions later. But for the sake of argument, I will ask you: have you come with peaceful intent? It is a strange hour for royal council.” Her voice, forever measured, bore the faintest hiss of sarcasm. It occurred to her, with some surprise, that it was not tainted with rage.

She had many questions for this man.

[Saalyn]

Saalyn had not the time to react before Alecto was in front of her, shielding the blonde from the winged stranger across the room. Perhaps she would have found the other woman’s protective actions endearing had she not been preoccupied with wondering just who—or what—this man was, or why he was here. Even more curious was Alecto’s and the man’s reactions to one another, as if this hadn’t been the first time they had met. Saalyn’s partner at least found reason for alarm, considering her instantaneous defensiveness upon walking into the room. But all he did was stand, bow, and introduce himself as King Segwyn of the Slaugh…

Slaugh. The look of bewilderment drained from Saalyn’s face upon hearing the word, replaced with a blank stare. So this was a Slaugh, the very thing that she was just discussing with the Queen of the Seelie. What was he doing in the Royal Palace? And more importantly, where was King Cel? If Saalyn was going to ask the man just where the King was, her inquiry was smothered in her throat as Alecto began to talk. By the way she spoke, it was easy to deduct that this man had had something to do with her assault in the woods, and one of the Branwyn’s brows rose curiously at the revelation. Why had he attacked Alecto, let her live and even returned her to her home, only to visit the place itself a day later?

Despite all the signs pointing otherwise, Saalyn was more curious than afraid of this Segwyn, perhaps because Alecto stood ahead of her with her sword drawn and at the ready. Still, the blonde sidhe moved forward, placing a hand on the other woman’s arm to lower the weapon while keeping her gray eyes trained on the man before them.

”You are being rude, Alecto,” Saalyn lightly chided, a small smile gracing her lips as she continued to keep her gaze locked on the man, ”May I ask you, sir, what business do you have here with our King?”

[Segwyn]

Segwyn smiled at the sight of the blade. He shouldn’t have expected anything different from the woman he had assaulted in the woods. He wouldn’t be too kind to any assailants either, no matter how polite they had been. He thought he was being polite, at least before he had run his boot into her flawless sidhe face. Her intent to attack him didn’t last too long though, for she threw her bag to the ground, immediately removing a waterskin from it, in a rush to slake some intense thirst it seemed. Despite her defensive stance quickly giving away to something much more cavalier, Segwyn declined to make any movements toward the two sidhe women, knowing that any movement could be mistaken as a hostile advancement. He wasn’t about to provoke a standoff between himself and two sidhe, especially over a misunderstanding. In addition, it most likely wouldn’t end well for either party.

The woman he recognized words made him laugh, he smiled but immediately realized he shouldn’t have. The woman wouldn’t likely see being kicked in the face as a joke, and Segwyn didn’t want to piss her off. Quickly, he reeled in his grin and silenced his laughter, trying his best to put on a remorseful face. He shuffled awkwardly and her words confirmed the idea that she was not amused by the assault, not that he expected she should be. ”I am sorry. It was…for the best.” He couldn’t offer much more of an explanation than that, at least for now. It was a weak apology but Segwyn could say nothing more.

Before he could answer Alecto’s question, the second sidhe spoke to him. He was one of the few garlangers that would look a sidhe in the eye, square his shoulders up and speak with force. It had come from decades of dealing with sidhe monarchs and learning that they respected power, not sycophancy. He bowed to Saalyn, the woman equally beautiful as Alecto in her sidhe beauty. Segwyn had always appreciated the beauty of women, not just sidhe alone.

This woman seemed more reasonable, most likely the higher ranked of the two, Cel’s voice of reason. Her smile had him slightly more relaxed, but still he was wary of Alecto attacking. ”I have come to speak with him regarding the current events within my kingdom." He said with the voice of a diplomat, totally sincere but devoid of any emotional attachments.

[Alecto]

It was clear that Saalyn did not -- could not -- understand the depth of her companion’s annoyance. How could she? Nothing Alecto had said indicated that Segwyn, himself, had beaten her senseless, and she had not been forthcoming about the mysterious gift he had left her. At the Branwyn’s reproving words and touch, she lowered her sword enough that she was no longer pointing it at their guest, but did not put it away. “I am aware,” she said simply, without any defensiveness or remorse. Her eyes continued to scrutinize Segwyn in their piercing, searching way; a surgical stare, or a coroner’s. She could see that her comment amused him, if not the situation -- this might have perturbed her, had she not chosen the words in part for their comedic value. It had been a sarcastic observation, in spite of its truth. Curiously, her whole demeanor and expression contained more fierce curiosity than real anger. His words only intensified these feelings, when he spoke again at last. It was for the best.

“Why.” It was a question that seemed to address the entirety of their common plight -- both the comment she had just heard, and the one to follow. Perhaps she was in no position to make demands. She had her Sidhe blood and its Hand of Power, she had a blade at the ready and another by her side, but the Underdark’s King was no weakling -- if he should take offense, the scuffle would be ugly. Yet Alecto, as she had freely admitted, was not known for her diplomacy. She was known for her actions, and these situations in which she so frequently found herself these past days, full of their careful words and manners and compliments, were intensely frustrating. At this point she either wanted a straight answer, or to slit someone’s throat. Any throat, really, would do.

Except, perhaps, Segwyn’s.

The garlanger’s vaguery was beginning to tickle Alecto’s rage, but he was too much of an enigma, too mysterious to wish dead. The Fury wanted to shake him, to be sure, but dismembering him seemed out of the question. All these secrets hiding in shadows, darkness that only Segwyn and Cel seemed able to pierce, demanded Alecto’s attention. Part of her burned for a private audience; many of her questions would appear treasonous if she flung them out now, with Saalyn still ignorant of the necklace and note. But she would have to wait, she knew.

Maybe forever.

[Saalyn]

To Alecto’s response, Saalyn nearly rolled her eyes. Her fingers still lingered on the other woman’s forearm, and she could feel how taut the muscles lying beneath the smooth skin of her partner continued to be. Precaution was necessary, Saalyn understood this well enough, but aggression would not help in keeping the situation peaceful. If Alecto had any qualms with this man—and it seemed that she quite likely did—then she needed to hold her tongue for the moment, lest she give their King and their kingdom a reputation for being inhospitable, and after everything that had occurred over the past two days, Saalyn believed that staying on friendly terms with the Slaugh was probably a good idea.

“Then I’m sure you are also aware that the Royal Palace is no place for blades,” the blonde sidhe replied evenly, the small smile still pulling at her lips. If her seriousness hadn’t been conveyed through her words, then it was certainly expressed through her eyes as she glanced at Alecto long enough to get her point across. As much as Saalyn respected her companion’s prowess, she was hoping that Alecto would choose to rely on her words for the remainder of this encounter with Segwyn.

Her inquiry about the winged man’s presence was met rather vaguely, but Saalyn retained her pleasant disposition. She hadn’t observed any sign of a struggle within this room, nor any of the rooms she had passed before arriving here, and considering that Segwyn was sitting quite calmly and patiently so deep within the Unseelie Court, it led her to believe two things—one, that King Cel was unharmed, and two, that the words this man spoke were true.

“Oh? There has been a stirring within the Slaugh kingdom?” Saalyn asked, sounding as if she hadn’t just recently found out that a Slaugh kingdom existed at all. She took a few slow strides forward—away from Alecto as to not appear in need of protection, but not close enough to Segwyn to make him feel threatened or uncomfortable, or put herself in a compromising position—forming a nearly perfect equilateral triangle in the room with her fellow occupants. “I hope it is something that our King can help you with. In truth, we wanted to request an audience with him as well. Surely you won’t mind if we join you while we wait?”

It seemed the only plausible course of action for now. As much as Saalyn wanted to go find her King, she wasn’t about to leave these two alone in a room together, lest Alecto do something irrational. For now she would be patient, and wait for Cel to come to them.

[Segwyn]

Segwyn could not help but be amused by the dialogue between the Fury and the Branwyn. Ah, women the nightflyer thought, for every sane one there is one ten times crazier. The proverb nearly returned that same humored grin to his golden countenance, but the king did is best to remain stoic. He held his laughter in, an effort to not seem capricious, for he was a king and he was expected to behave in the manner of a dignitary. However, the king was not a master of facades and he was forced to glance down, allowing the exchange between the two sidhe to take place while he hid his smile. He shouldn’t have been so amused, Alecto was brandishing a sword at him and Saalyn (though significantly less hostile) was regarding him with a healthy caution. Perhaps Segwyn’s laxness had been born from many meetings with much more frightening sidhe or maybe the Sluagh King was confident in his strengths, but either way he knew he should be on guard, serious matters were at hand.

When Saalyn turned her attention to Segwyn he responded accordingly. The neutral expression returned to his face and his eyes met the Branwyn’s. He simply nodded at her first question, offering no explanation for she had not asked for one. Segwyn had learned that the sidhe often waited for you to offer up information that would be your own undoing. With the politicos of the faerie world it was best to give the surface answers and not expound upon anything unless asked.

With Saalyn’s next question he was forced to offer up a verbal answer, but one he could be equally vague in. ”I don’t mind. I actually prefer it.” He smiled a toothless smile at her and folded his arms across his chest.

In truth, Alecto put Segwyn more at ease than Saalyn did. Alecto’s very candid attitude made it easy to discern what she was thinking. In fact, she made no qualms with telling those around her what she was thinking. Saalyn was more calculating, a conniving type as far as Segwyn could tell. She was an advisor of Cel’s and that said something about her, the fact that the Darkling Prince trusted and valued her meant she was not just a pretty face who could form coherent sentences.

Even though Segwyn’s philosophy was to not divulge any more information than necessary to the sidhe, he was a gentleman as well as a king. He offered Alecto an explanation, ”My guards and I were on an important mission. Your presence not only impeded our progress but put the mission at risk. My guards would have mortally wounded you had I not stepped in. Once more, I’m sorry.”

[King Cel]

The King had been alerted to Segwyn’s presence long ago. He had been expecting a visit from the Sluagh King for days now, ever since Alecto sighting. In truth, Cel was curious to see what the man had to say. The garlanger was well aware that by allowing any of his people to venture outside the Underdark without him, he was violating the ancient pact between the Unseelie and the Sluagh. The pact allowed the Sluagh to remain in Alanor despite their differences with the faerie, and thus, this violation meant Cel had every right to expel the entire faction of them from Alanor. Cel loved bloodshed, but he was not a warmonger and because of this he had given Segwyn a chance to explain himself even when he shouldn’t have.

He had kept the garlanger waiting deliberately; if the creature left he would assume that Segwyn’s gesture meant war. However, Segwyn’s patience had kept him waiting in the chamber below Cel’s bedroom for well over an hour. Cel was satisfied with the fact that he had kept the man waiting for an adequately long time but his plan back fired in a way he had not foreseen. His messengers to the Seelie Court had returned much sooner than he had expected. In all honesty, Queen Annette was a sucker for show boating and he had assumed she would keep them there for a lavish party honoring their arrival at the Seelie. Annette loved to try to win the Darkling fae over, a play at showing them that the Unseelie was nothing compared to the world they lived in. In rarely worked, no faerie was that foolish.

As he descended the stairs to the throne room it was evident he had been waiting for this meeting. He was dressed in a dark black suit, the top three buttons of the white cotton shirt beneath undone as they usually were. He sparkled in his sidhe aura, a dazzling smile spread across his face at the sight of his Branwyn and Segna. ”Princess Alecto, Princess Saalyn. You have returned, what news do you bring?” He was jovial, cheerful towards them and then he turned his gaze upon Segwyn.

He was doing his best to hide his discomfort that the two women had met Segwyn, a man he had hoped to keep in the shadows forever. Perhaps it had been futile; the Sluagh king had always been uppity. He smirked, his left nostril flaring as he flicked his head in acknowledgment towards the nightflyer. He spoke, obviously annoyed, ”I haven’t seen you in ages, Shadowspawn. Come to tell me why your people have broken our treaty?” He said bluntly. He had nothing to hide…At least, that’s what he wanted it to seem like.

[Alecto]

She felt Saalyn’s grip tighten, a second rebuke continuing their history of attack dog and leash-holder. Resentment flickered behind Alecto’s restrained expression, but at the Branwyn’s words, she could not help herself. Her stoicism broke, a short laugh ending her composure -- she was sure that blades had plenty of uses within these walls, and were exercised often -- but she smoothly sheathed her sword. As much as she disliked it, Saalyn did have some authority, here, and it would not do to throw her alliances to the wind based on a few moments of frustration. She shook her head gently, her smile remaining, and began to pull off her gloves, finger by finger. “Forgive me, I am unused to delicacies, after all my time in the shadows,” she sighed, folding the removed garments and slipping them into her coat pocket, rolling up her sleeves and revealing, in the process, the tattoo of her mantel coiling down her left arm to her wrist. The fury was regathering her sensitive composure, but she continued to smirk at the irony of Saalyn’s criticism. This “Segwyn” seemed to be no stranger to their court or their King -- surely he was not ignorant of the Unseelie’s bloody pastimes.

The Nightflyer was right to think the blonde Sidhe more dangerous than the Fury; Alecto was aggressive, but she was not slippery. She usually informed her targets that they were going to die, before she killed them. She could choose her words carefully, but never openly lied. She had no ulterior motives. Saalyn, on the other hand, was an unanswered question; while Alecto had grown to appreciate her skilled dialectic, she was not under any impressions that she had discovered the woman’s ultimate purpose. Even her chiding could indicate a hundred different sentiments, some of which favored the fire-eyed fae and others which distinctly did not. For now, it didn’t particularly matter. They were playing for the same team, and that was enough.

Pivoting herself to face both faerie and the stairs, her back to the door and her swords waiting politely in scabbards, Alecto assumed a slightly more relaxed (but no less upright) posture, and listened. The King and the Advisor, of course, bantered in their careful way, revealing little and inviting every speculation. She frowned at their dialogue, having quite given up the effort of participating. Even Segwyn’s attempt at an explanation garnered no perceivable reaction, though Alecto inwardly chafed at how vague he continued to be. Her urge to shake him had not subsided. She crossed her arms over her chest, noting that Cel had emerged from the chamber above and was descending the stairs, as Segwyn spoke.

Alecto visibly bristled at the request for news, as she offered a shallow bow in greeting. It wasn’t that she considered her King’s desires offensive, but that the memory of their interaction with Annette seemed all the more frustrating in light of present circumstance. She looked woefully between Saalyn and Cel, clearly preferring that the former relate their intelligence. At the latter’s salutations, however, she could not help but stare in confusion. Did Cel typically treat his royal visitors with derision, when the question of bloody conflict remained in the balance? That single sentence seemed to contain in it a long history of tense encounters and strange familiarity. She turned to study Segwyn’s response, brows raised.

What had Cel meant by this derisive moniker, and what where the terms of the treaty?

[Saalyn]

Watching Alecto sheath her blade allowed Saalyn to breathe a little easier. She could tell that the Segna was not very pleased with her, but the blonde sidhe still believed that keeping things civil was the right course of action, at least for the time being. In truth, Saalyn wasn’t the type to pull rank unless she felt it was absolutely necessary. Perhaps she could—or should—apologize to the other woman later if the chance presented itself.

Hearing another vague response from the Slaugh King wasn’t entirely unexpected. Segwyn had shared as much about himself and his intentions as Saalyn had herself, so she couldn’t blame the man for keeping his cards so close. What he did reveal, however, was not directed at her at all. The man spoke again to Alecto, affirming Saalyn’s belief that he had been involved with the dark-haired woman’s attack the night before last. But what was this mission that he spoke of? Something regarding the “events” that were currently taking place in his kingdom?

Before she could speculate any more on the matter, Cel entered the room, descending the nearby stairs in his usual elegant matter, and Saalyn bowed in response. Despite the tension his choice of words might potentially bring to the room, she was glad that he was here, hoping he would be able to dilute the fog of questions that had begun to cloud her mind as of late.

“Aside from the fact that the Seelie Queen is as elusive and pompous as rumors say, there is not much news to bring, unfortunately,” Saalyn answered, crossing her arms over her chest and her legs at the ankles. She wasn’t sure that speaking on the matter in front of Segwyn was the best idea, but Cel had asked knowing very well that the Slaugh King was in the room, and Saalyn wasn’t one to deny her King what he requested. Releasing a nearly inaudible sigh, she continued. “She said that there has not been any unusual occurrences within her kingdom, and that any problems that we may be having are none of her concern. However, she did ask for us to relay one message in particular, Your Highness,” here the woman paused and turned her attention completely to Segwyn, the small smile still ever-present on her face, “that you should destroy the Host, and that she would be more than willing to help in the effort.”

Turning back to Cel, the blonde woman shrugged nonchalantly, an action that seemed both appropriate and inappropriate for her. “I can’t say that I entirely believe her, but that is as much as she told us, sir.”

[Segwyn]

He winced at the name Shadowspawn, closing his eyes as a clearly exasperated, annoyed look washed over his features. Segwyn had no reason to hide his emotions in front of Cel; they both knew where each other stood on the political spectrum. This was not a hostile negotiation between two kings, for Segwyn did not have the bartering tools the likes of the Seelie Queen would have in this situation. In fact, Segwyn had no tools he could use, no tricks he could play or mind games he could enact to manipulate the way this conversation went. He had accepted the fact that he was a local ruler only, but it never ceased to annoy him. Amongst the Sluagh his word was law, amongst the faerie he was little more than a garlanger with a crown.

He took a breath as if to stem his anger and fill his response with something more proactive, but that was not the case. He spoke to Cel bluntly, his eyes locked intensely onto the Unseelie king’s. ”Shadowspawn is a name our mother used, Cel, and she was a ruler of the kind you will never be. Don’t trick yourself into believing I respect you the way I respected her. Insult me again and I will not overlook it.”[/b] A defensive posture crept into Segwyn’s stance; his feet separated with his arms bent ever so slightly, his hands open and fingers twitching in anticipation to having to draw a weapon. Segwyn never liked Cel, his younger brother, for so many reasons but he would never strike him; doing so would break the treaty. However, Shadowspawn was a name he would not tolerate being called. Their mother had called him that name and though it stung to remember that his own mother referred to him by some derisive nickname, he could never disrespect his mother…She had been the Queen.

Segwyn continued to stare down Cel, listening to Saalyn’s summary of what had happened at the Seelie. It didn’t surprise him to hear Annette had given them the first impression she did, it was the only way he had ever heard the Seelie Queen described. Yet Segwyn stake in what Annette had said immediately rose when he felt Saalyn’s eyes turn on him. He met her gaze, a glowering look thrown back at her. He turned to Cel when the dialogue ceased. ”Destroy the Host? You wouldn’t dare Cel. The Sluagh have done your dirty work for centuries. I’ve come here to speak with you regarding a possible uprising and your advisors speak of war against my court? The last thing you want is war, Cel. It would destroy the Unseelie.” Though Segwyn’s words were only directed at Cel and Saalyn, he turned his gaze to Alecto and he wasn’t sure why. He stared at her for a long moment, remembering the note to her and the necklace he had given her, a vial of blood that could do great things for the court. He then turned back to Cel, waiting for a response.[/color]

[King Cel]

His eyes were wide with surprise at Segwyn’s words. He nodded his head a few times, processing what had been said. He took a step towards Segwyn and then a second step until they were nose to nose. ”Our mother? Our mother sent you to be raised by the Sluagh, to be condemned to the Underdark, to be my servant. Our mother taught me to rule, our mother gave me the tools to reign on this throne.” He pointed violently towards the throne and then put his finger in the face of the Sluagh king, he stepped back. Shaking his head, angered by Segwyn’s words and the fact that the man had the nerve to call his mother, their mother. ”My mother called you Shadowspawn because you were born from the dark things she swept under into the Underdark. She never thought of you as her son and I never will think of you as my brother.”

By the time Cel was finished his chest was heaving up and down, he ran his hands through his hair which had fallen out of place during his outburst. Saalyn’s news that the Queen had pretty much scoffed at his effort to warn her about potential dangers also served to annoy Cel. Though the King probably would not have been irritated had Annette rebuked his warning any other time, he liked the fact that the Queen was so prideful. Her hubris would be her undoing.

Cel’s wild eyes turned to Saalyn, ”I suppose you and Alecto are confused by her words.” He looked to Alecto then back to Saalyn. He took another reassuring breathe and shook his head, he took two steps backwards and then turned, taking a quick jaunt to the throne. When he took the seat he looked more like an overworked business man about to explain something painful. He rubbed his forehead before looking at the two of them, ”Long ago, my mother made a pact with the Sluagh. It was at a time when the Sluagh had lost favor with the magic in Alanor, they were on the verge of being exiled for good. Seeing some worth in the Sluagh she made a deal with them, they could have sanctuary in the Underdark if and only if they put a faerie on their throne. Naturally, the older Sluagh weren’t having it and the agreement was made that she would sire a child with the former Sluagh King, the child would be the next ruler of the Sluagh. The deal was that no Sluagh would ever venture out of the Underdark unless they were with their king, and we know that hasn’t been the case…” He peered at Segwyn, he tapped his fingers together contemplating what could be said to a man he so utterly despised but was forced to deal with. He hated Segwyn but he loved his mother more, if she saw value in the Sluagh then he would force himself to keep them around.

”So you’re losing control of the Sluagh? They don’t want to listen to a faerie ruler anymore? Do they believe they can usurp power and return to the surface? Well we shall see, what is your following like, Segwyn? We shall crush their rebellion with all the force my sidhe army brings.”