Reconaissance [Closed]

[Alecto]

It was his blood that allowed those monsters to remain in Alanor…

Alecto’s frown vanished, an impenetrable, stony blankness quickly taking its place as this exchange unfolded. Beneath the hard exterior, the Sidhe was astonished: it appeared Cel had been hiding a number of things from them, including an aggressive nature which quite trumped her own. Her burning glance darted between the brothers, her jaw clenched, her posture stiffened. Was this really the time or the place for bitter, personal attacks? Did her King really consider Segwyn’s threat so empty, he did not deign to humor it? Why had he sent his allies into enemy territory without enough information to prevent an appearance of foolishness? And how did he know the Sluagh had ventured out without their Nightflyer king, when in her case, it was the Garlanger himself that had initiated the attack…

She met Segwyn’s eyes, searching them. It seemed his situation was very tenuous, indeed. A twinge of sympathy spasmed in her chest, as unfamiliar as it was unsettling. What do you want from me? How am I involved?

There were a hundred accusations she could have flung out at the pair of them, if it were not for two factors: her own secrets, and the dumbness of shock. She stood there mute, numb, wondering at Cel’s cruelty and derision. He offered the Unseelie army with little hesitation, without listening to the full extent of the situation – what sort of rebellion was this, and did the King already know the details? Alecto wrenched her eyes from Segwyn with effort, allowed them to settle on the darkling monarch. There was concern there, and inquiry.

“What, exactly, is the nature of this uprising?” she managed softly, steadily, directing the question at anyone who could answer it.

[Saalyn]

Throughout the entire exchange between the sibling monarchs, Saalyn remained silent, one slender brow raised slightly higher than the other, the smile still etched into her features as if it had been frozen in place by magic. In fact, only her eyes portrayed any movement of her person, shifting back in forth between the brothers, as Cel soon explained them to be. Perhaps this revelation would have meant more to her had it seemed that Cel and this Sluagh were linked by more than just the blood of a shared mother. It was quite easy to tell that her King thought little of Segwyn, and so Saalyn saw no fault in thinking the same. He was just a Garlanger, after all. Even if he was a King over his own kind, he was little more than a winged insect amongst the sidhe.

Still, she had to admit that he was an interesting one. Foolish was perhaps a better word as he dared to intimidate Cel with both words and stance, but the blonde woman refrained from chuckling out loud at the effort as to not seem entirely without manners. What did he really believe he could do here, outnumbered, in a realm of magic when he had none to speak of? Even the glare he had sent in her direction upon hearing about the Seelie Queen’s proposal was naught but a fly to be swatted away in light of their current situation. Honestly, Saalyn didn’t feel as if she was deserving of such a heated glance. She was only relaying what she had been told. What was that human saying…don’t shoot the messenger, or something of the sort? Perhaps his jumping to conclusions was just on account of his nervousness, something the Branwyn would forgive for the time being.

Saalyn had nearly forgotten about the other person in the room until Alecto spoke out. The Segna appeared particularly disturbed by everything that had just been said, and Saalyn couldn’t entirely blame her. Their King was being rather brash about this all, and had she not seen the man rip that nimbus girl’s body limb from limb in his own bed chambers only a handful of days ago, perhaps she too would have been bothered with the way he was handling this situation. Instead, she felt that he was dealing with it in the only way he knew how—ravenous control. It was a dangerous line to walk, for sure, but Saalyn believed if anyone could do so, it was Cel. If that was how he wanted to play the game, then she would oblige, following his lead in full.

“The nature is irrelevant. Any uprising amongst the Sluagh can only spell trouble for our kind—our involvement in the matter will be inevitable. It would be better to ask where he stands with the rebellion,” Saalyn stated in light of Alecto’s question, glancing over at the woman and then scanning over to Cel before her gray eyes finally settled upon Segwyn, “Do you champion their cause, or do you look to quell it, sir? Because I feel that you can only be here to either make a proper declaration of war, or to ask for our aid in stopping one.”

[Segwyn]

Segwyn should have realized Cel would react badly to the “our mother”, comment. Cel had always been a spoiled prince, raised as an only child, raised to believe his brother in the Underdark wasn’t anything more than a figure head, a marker that reminded the Sluagh of their allegiance to the Unseelie. What Cel had failed to realized that while he was being coddled, raised as a royal prince, Segwyn was fighting to win his people over. Make no mistake, that even though the Sluagh were forced to live under the rule of a faerie king, they did not like it. It had taken Segwyn over one hundred years to finally convince his people that he was not a puppet for the Unseelie monarch, but a true leader. Andais could not have raised Segwyn the way she raised Cel, or the Sluagh King would never have become the true ruler of the Underdark.

But Segwyn said nothing to his brother. He had learned that fighting with the irrational man was pointless; it would only serve to provoke Cel to spew hateful words or harm someone. He simply stared at the darkling patriarch, no emotion present in his features though he was indeed annoyed and somewhat saddened. As much as Segwyn disliked Cel, he was his brother.

He listened to the King tell his advisors the story of the pact. Truth be told, Segwyn was surprised Cel knew the story so well. The nightflyer had expected the sidhe would be too arrogant, too consumed with his reign to remember the history associated with any other. Yet just as Segwyn began to believe Cel was not a headstrong fool, so sure in himself that he overlooked fact, the king pledged his court’s warriors to an effort that would quell the Sluagh rebellion. Cel’s Branwyn echoed the sentiment, asking Segwyn if he supported the cause. It was a ridiculous notion that the King who had humbled himself to come before the Unseelie monarch supported a coup d'etat, a rebellion.

Only one had been reasonable, Alecto asked what the nature of the rebellion was and Segwyn offered her a smile and a bow because of it. He then pulled his gaze away, looking between Saalyn and his brother. ”The rebellion is not with the Sluagh but with a race of creatures called the Drow. They are faerie that have come into power through unnatural magic. They came to us recently and offered us power, a chance to align with them in their efforts to overthrow the faerie monarchs.” The next part was directed at Saalyn, ”I do not support such a cause…but I cannot say the same for many of my people. The offer has caused civil strife amongst my kingdom, but that isn’t your concern. Your concern should be the Drow.”

[King Cel]

Cel looked at Alecto and nodded in conjunction with Saalyn’s words. He would have expected more from the Fury; in fact, he would have expected her to jump at the chance to attack the beasts that knocked her unconscious in the forest. Yet she stood before Segwyn, calm, speaking to him as if he were another sidhe. Was Alecto going soft? He wasn’t sure but he would keep a wary eye on his Segna. As it was, he smiled at Saalyn, an impressed look passing over his face. She kept showing him good things.

The King looked back at Segwyn. The words were troubling but not even Cel knew the severity of the situation. He knew of the Sluagh, they were an immediate presence for the darklings, but the word drow was a word he had not heard in years. The last time he heard it, it hadn’t even carried that much weight. The idea that there were drow in Alanor was almost unbelievable.

”The faerie who abused Alanor’s magic were expelled long ago. Do you mean to say the Drow still exist?” Cel was confused and when the king was confused he had a very short temper. However, he wouldn’t be the type to weigh in on anything rationally without also taking a stab at Segwyn’s credibility. ”Of course your people are dissenting.” He said seemingly to himself, clearly and loudly enough so that everyone could hear.

[Alecto]

“It is relevant to those who fight.”

Alecto’s inscrutable calm nearly broke as she glanced between the two members of her court, honestly disgusted with their flippant treatment of the situation. Perhaps she was the only one that thought the information was not adding up -- the unprepared journey to the Seelie, the arrogance of Annette, the appearance of this half-brother, the existence of a new race. Her mouth twisted into a sneer as she briefly studied Saalyn, who had apparently lost her rationality somewhere in the mix, here. Cel was emotional -- that she could see now, and therefor understand -- but it surprised and disturbed her that the Branwyn would underestimate a potential enemy based on blood.

“A warrior likes to know her enemy. How can I kill what I do not understand?” she paced a few steps, an arc that carried her in Cel’s general direction. “I saw a flame that burned blue -- without heat, without fuel. I am unaccustomed to such prey. I must know them, to make them bleed.” she looked at her King meaningfully, appealing to his undoubtable experience as a fighter. She continued to look at him, appeal to him, even as she directed her next words to the Nightflyer Monarch. “What magic can bring tainted blood to power, and how are they able to offer it to others? I can imagine that many garlanger would be tempted by such promises...even outside the Underdark. The idea makes me question both their numbers and their ability to plant spies amidst the courts...” she looked thoughtful, distant, “particularly the Seelie. The Red Queen does not strike me as someone who wins Garlanger fealty easily. She was a fool to dismiss our warning.”

Her steps resumed, carrying her around the group, as her eyes travelled listlessly over the floor, walls, roses. In her mind, she puzzled together the details, attempting to paint a picture of these unseen enemies and their most expedient destruction. “What can the Drow hope to gain by open war with the courts? They face an army of immortals, seasoned fighters from both kingdoms. Or do they merely wish to make the coexistence of the Faerie and the Sluagh impossible?” She came to a halt, standing somewhat between Cel on his throne and Segwyn, some steps away. Her gaze fell on the underdark’s King, narrowed and appraising, as she wondered whose death the Drow had truly secured: the faerie monarchs, or the half-blood Sluagh.

shitty.

[Saalyn]

At Alecto’s retort, the subtle smile on Saalyn’s face finally disappeared. She didn’t appreciate being spoken to as if she possessed the intelligence of some lowlife Garlanger, especially in front of her King. Her expression did not convey his agitation, though. Instead the tattoo of her mantel crept up her neck until its head was visible on her right cheek, watching the Segna with a keen eye whilst she spoke.

“You jump ahead of yourself, Alecto,” Saalyn replied, her calm demeanor still present, although there did seem to be an edge to her tongue, “What happened to your earlier concern for the Sluagh standing before us? First you draw your blade at him, now you would choose to believe his words outright even after he assaulted you naught but a few nights ago?”

Taking a deep breath, the Branwyn shook her head but once to move beyond their petty argument before she turned her eyes towards Segwyn. “If what you say about these Drow is true, that they offer you power, then why do you come here aligning yourself with the very people who banished you to the Underdark?” the blonde sidhe asked, her brow creased in her concentration upon the winged man, “Do you fear that they will dethrone you, Sluagh King? Or do you merely find yourself between a rock and hard place and choose to ally with the side you think has the upper hand should a war begin? What benefit do you gain by warning us of this threat?”

[Segwyn]

Once more Segwyn ignored Cel’s jibe. The King of the Unseelie was clearly troubled, had Segwyn been blindsided by all of this, he too would be troubled.

Upon hearing Cel’s question, the Sluagh let out an uncomfortable sigh. ”As the Seelie began to exterminate the Goblins, the Sluagh moved into the Underdark. Amongst the Sluagh was a trusted group of faerie who had chosen to align with the Sluagh during the Goblin War…The Underdark kept them safe until their existence was all but forgotten. He stared off into nothingness, his gaze turned downcast but he studied nothing, took in nothing. He was ashamed of what his people had done: housed faerie traitors and oath-breakers. ”By the time I was old enough to rule they had already left the Underdark. Those fae became the Drow. I only learned they were still in Alanor when they contacted me. Immediately after I began to pursue them and now I’m here.” He knew Cel would likely blame him for his people’s deception and was prepared to deal with the punishment.

His eyes moved upward as he continued to pay heed to the Segna, his eyes focused on her as she garnered all of his attention. Truthfully, she was the only one who warranted his attention as she seemed to be the only rational thinking sidhe in the room. If Segwyn’s first instinct was correct, Cel and Saalyn were slightly older than Alecto. If they were not, then they at least played the part of the old sidhe well: arrogant, coarse and quick to jump to conclusions that would belittle those who were not of sidhe or nimbus lineage. Segwyn had dealt with it when his mother was queen and it hadn’t changed when Cel took over.

”The flames you saw in the forest was something called Faerie Fire, in the past it has been used for many things but mostly to dispel faerie glamour.” His arms crossed in front of him, finely sculpted muscles flexing beneath his golden flesh, his pectorals pushed together between the swell of his biceps. Segwyn was significantly more muscular than Cel, brothers in blood but not appearance. ”As for what brings them to power, I do not know.” His words trailed off and he too was troubled.

Finally Alecto’s gaze settled on him, but he was out of answers. The Drow were creatures of mystery, faerie who dabbled in magic that was not native to Alanor or even misused the magic the land had given them. And though Segwyn could offer no more answers about the Drow, Saalyn’s question begged for his motive. He turned his gaze on her, cold and full of dislike for the Branwyn. ”My mother, Queen of the Unseelie, saved the Sluagh. My warning to you comes from my respect for her, not for my personal gain, not for out of respect for you, or even for your king. For my mother.” He snorted and his gaze shifted back to Cel, sure that the Darkling would not be pleased with him. Though Segwyn knew warning the Unseelie had been the right thing to do.

[King Cel]

Cel chose to remain quiet as Saalyn and Alecto spoke to one another. Saalyn was Alecto’s superior and totally capable of dealing with the outbursts from the Segna. Though Cel’s dark gaze lingered on Alecto as Saalyn chided at her, he did not say a word. When she spoke to him, he allowed Segwyn to be the one who answered the questions. Alecto had not fallen out of favor with Cel, but he was unimpressed with her loyalty to him. Alecto seemed irritated by her Branwyn and her King, the way they were handling the interrogation of the Sluagh King. Truthfully, she should have been relieved Cel was not using his preferred method of interrogation. It would be much bloodier.

Segwyn’s explanation of how the Drow existed caused the king to close his eyes. He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose out of exasperation. The Sluagh should have known better to try and double cross the Unseelie. The faerie traitors who had sided with the Goblins during the war were not a part of the pact between Andais and Lugh. The fact that the Sluagh had hid these traitors harbored them and allowed them to become a threat more than a thousand years later drove Cel to the point of madness. With his face turning beat red and the bridge of his nose still pinched between his thumb and his index finger, he began to shake, his voice called out, ”Hall of Mortality!”

The roses came to life immediately and ensnared Segwyn, catching him around the neck, wrist, and ankles. Violently the nightflyer was pulled from the room, whisked away to the King’s dungeons where he would have a private audience with the King.

He looked to his court members, the two women before him. ”I do not know what we face with the Drow, but it is best we ready ourselves. There is little that can be done until we know what the Drow are capable of and where they reside in Alanor. However, I fear seeking them out would be unwise.”

[Alecto]

It appeared it would be the second option.

Alecto completely ignored Saalyn’s comments -- it had been the Branwyn’s hand that had staid her sword, when they came across the Nightflyer King, and the Branwyn again who had ordered her to be civil -- but her interest was piqued by her question of motive. It was indeed a wonder that Segwyn was not tempted, himself, by the prospect of power; it appeared he was quite accustomed to being treated as inferior by the Sidhe, despite his title. Alecto was not sure who was on the side of justice, in this case. On the one hand, the title “King” seemed to bear little weight when the Kingdom in question was little more than a defeated band of monsters and traitors. The superiority of the Sidhe was undeniable, in every measurable respect (except, perhaps, morality). But the Fury had also never been one to discriminate based on blood. Perhaps it was her relative isolation talking, and the incredible length of time she had spent in the Mortal world, reducing men of varied rank and importance to sniveling, pathetic lunatics. She was old -- even for a faerie, she was old -- and without the influence of other fae to remind her of the importance of her purity, she had forgotten what it felt like to have a superiority complex. To her, the only real measure of power was the one weighed in vanquished souls.

But she said none of this. She didn’t really have time to, before Cel invoked the power of his rank to haul his brother away to the pits of his dungeon. Her brows lifted in surprise as the gilded garlanger vanished amidst the vines, then lowered as her expression returned to cool disinterest. Segwyn should have known that the King would react this way, after his earlier explosion. While Cel’s reaction may not have been just (or perhaps it was -- who knew how long the Nightflyer had concealed the Drow’s existence and hunted them on his own), it was predictable, and Alecto therefor laid the blame for it on the provocateur. She turned to her King placidly as he spoke, nodding. Despite her better efforts, there was visible relief on her face -- relief borne of a variety of causes.

Then we will ready ourselves, my Lord. What preparations do you wish made?” She looked at him thoughtfully, noting the recession of scarlet from his cheeks. If she had known that he questioned her loyalty, the notion would have intensified her disgust, but his silence on the matter protected all present from a riot. “I propose that we increase the guard that will be present at the festival. If they pervert the magic of Alanor, they may not respect her rites.” She spoke softly, as soothingly as she was able, to cool her leader’s anger...but her voice was still smoke and ice.

[Saalyn]

Saalyn might have found the talk of mothers endearing if she had cared at all about the notion. Instead, she saw it as a weak excuse, the half-frown on her face evidence of her displeasure despite her silence. Living in the past was for the foolish. If Segwyn lived his life trying to honor the ghost of a woman, even if it was his own mother, he was just wasting his already feeble existence. From this first impression, it seemed to Saalyn that if the pact between the former Sluagh King and Unseelie Queen hadn’t taken place, there would be no way that Segwyn would be ruler of the Underdark. Nothing he had said here spoke of his leadership skills—it seemed quite the opposite, really. His grasp on the reigns of power in his kingdom was loosened, losing strength in the downward spiral of civil unrest. At least he possessed enough intelligence to relay the message of his failures to someone who could actually do something about them.

And so, when Cel called upon his magic to take his brother away, Saalyn felt no sympathy or disappointment in regards to the Sluagh. In fact, her fingers rippled at the Garlanger’s fleeting form in a mocking wave as her subtle smile reappeared. Perhaps her King would be able to get some legitimate answers from the man to help clarify what was really going on with the Drow, as it seemed that aside from passing along information Segwyn was of little other use.

As both Cel and Alecto spoke, the Branwyn nodded in understanding and agreement. She was pleased to see that the Segna seemed to be back on track with her head in the right place. Despite their minor disputes, Saalyn did respect the fiery-eyed woman, and hoped that Alecto would have enough sense to keep herself in good standing with their King in the future. The blonde sidhe didn’t want to be the one piecing her back together should the Segna find herself under the hand of Cel’s vicious wrath.

“Increasing the guard at the festival would be wise, but not to the point where it invites suspicion,” Saalyn commented before turning to Cel, “Perhaps we ask a few skilled and trusted citizens to attend with a watchful eye. Considering that the Sluagh did house these beasts, it would perhaps be a better course of action to keep our best guards stationed around the entrances to the Underdark, lest these foul creatures and their Sluagh allies infiltrate our kingdom.” Pausing, Saalyn shook her head and released a laugh, though it was one of pure annoyance rather than any amusement. “With that halfling fool of a King, I fear the Sluagh will devote themselves to the Drow’s cause in full…But in what manner could we attempt to sway their lesser minds against this enemy?”

[King Cel]

”Their King will sway their loyalties. He must or he will die.” The words trickled from his mouth without him making eye contact without either of his advisors. The thought that Segwyn was imprisoned in the basement of his court was comforting, but certainly not comforting enough that the king could forget all that troubled him. The Sluagh were not a threat, at least, he did not think. Yet the Drow posed an entirely different problem, a problem the monarch could not begin to solve. He knew little about the Drow and the vague details he did remember about them he could not separate into fact and fiction, myth and history. Immortality was the faerie’s greatest gift, but also their greatest curse. With immortality came knowledge that no mortal could comprehend, but at the same time it also came with ignorance no mortal could comprehend. Time washed away memories and the oldest memories nearly disappeared all together.

Cel looked up from his thoughts, his blue eyes moving back and forth between his two advisors. The two sidhe had made quite an impression on him in a very short time, and today had been a telling timing. Saalyn had reassured him of her abilities as one of his closest confidants, an advisor for complex situations such as these and perhaps a friend in the face of adversity. Alecto had proven that she was not suited for the role of a courtier, but instead, more capable in a hands-on position. Alecto had done nothing to shake Cel’s trust in her; she was still integral to his high court. But now, the king needed her to be his eyes and ears, not the mouth that delivered his words or a mind to help him reach a decision. ”It is a necessity that I attend Imbolc, and I will do so with my guard. However, Alecto, you will also attend, but not with me.”

He stood up and took a deep breath in an effort to wash away the frustration of the previous events. ”Partake in the festivities but listen for dissent, rumors and anything that could be related to the Drow or the Sluagh. It is unlikely the queen will make mention of any such events, she would not risk ruining the festival.”

With the clicking of his leather shoes he moved coolly towards the staircase. Cel was looking forward to meeting with the Sluagh King in the dungeons; it would help him relieve much of his stress. Despite his haste to make his way to the Hall of Mortality, he turned and offered Saalyn and Alecto one final word, ”Do not speak of this. Curiosity amongst the court is a bad thing.”

[Alecto]

“With pleasure, my Lord.” She answered with a shallow bow, and watched him depart. She could have predicted his pronouncement of Segwyn’s coming duties, and so did not comment on them – but as her eyes followed the King’s back, she could not help but wonder what torturing the Nightflyer would accomplish. It would certainly not instill loyalty in the Sluagh people, to have their monarch returned to them battered and broken. It seemed to be in the Unseelie’s best interest to ensure the Underdark had a faerie at the helm, no matter how tainted that faerie might be.

But tonight, it had been made clear that Cel did not want to hear advice from his advisors. He wanted agreement: that was what he deemed “rational” and what impressed him. Saalyn may have been quick to provide it, following blindly in the footsteps of her hot-headed king, but Alecto could not bring herself to play to his wants. If he did not want her thoughts, at least he continued to offer her the liberty to see to his needs, and above all of these was his safety. The Fury had no interest in seeing the young King fall due to his cocksure personality. If she had to silence gossip and dissent with her blade, then that is what she would do.

Alone again, Alecto faced the politician beside her, who she sincerely wanted to strangle. Her face contained annoyance, though, not threats – Saalyn was valuable, in addition to being completely exasperating. She released a slow breath, expressing better than with words the totality of her frustration, and turned to leave.

“Sleep well, Niceven.” She said levelly, anticipating the inevitable promotion.

[Saalyn]

Cel’s order of silence was an unneeded one—Saalyn was sure that both she and Alecto were aware that nothing that had happened or been said over the past two days was to reach the ears of any other faerie in Alanor. Still, she nodded her consent nonetheless, uttering a quiet confirmation as her King turned to make his way towards the Hall of Mortality, and the Sluagh that awaited him there.

The Branwyn wasn’t sure what Cel had in store for the King of the Underdark, and although she believed that brute force did have it’s uses, she wasn’t sure if torturing the man into submission was entirely the right course to take. Honestly, Saalyn wasn’t sure if the forthcoming beating the winged man was likely going to endure would be completely about getting answers in regards to the Drow, either. Cel did take great pleasure in the act of violence—his earlier messiah complex coming to the forefront of her mind—and the fact that he strongly disliked his brother outright seemed motivation enough for the Unseelie King to unleash his rage upon Segwyn…But perhaps the Sluagh’s blind faith in his mother, no matter how absurd the notion seemed to Saalyn, would keep his loyalties with the Unseelie despite what happened in that room. All she could do was believe as much, and trust that her King knew what he was doing.

Once Cel was gone, it wasn’t long before Alecto moved to exit the room as well. Saalyn disregarded the woman’s comment, not caring whether it was meant to be a compliment or a backhanded one. Instead, her brow creased slightly between her gray eyes as she watched her turn to leave. “Alecto,” she called out to the departing sidhe’s back, her voice softer than it had been since their return, “if you are to go to the festival, please, be careful.”

She left it at that, moving forward to take a seat beside the King’s throne once Alecto had vanished from her sight. These last couple of days had been exhausting, but she knew if Cel allowed his emotions to get the better of him, he would need her Hand to fix whatever mess had been made of Segwyn. And so she waited there, her body leaning heavily against the sturdy throne as she tried to relax her tired mind and muscles.