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@graeclings
i'm not beaten by this yet / you can't tell me to regret / been in the dark since the day we met.
silas eluwe, lord of varnmere castle / introduction. threads.
tristan kelindorr, lord of minolith keep / introduction. threads.
elowen tenelith, ruling lady of vynetwist citdal / introduction. threads.
who: seren tenelith & any vallarion muses [2/4]
option one. within the library of vynetwist citadel.
being back in her home, amongst the tombs that felt so familiar, centered seren in a way she did not know she needed. while it had not been long since she first left the citadel for moira castle, she felt as though she had experienced years upon years worth of moments. almost as though she had lost sight of who she was and what she wanted. but being back home, where on certain days the smell of burning parchment still lingered, seren was reminded of her goals. of the truths she wanted to uncover. grasping a few books that needed to be returned back to their homes on their shelves, the brunette turned towards the entrance of the library when she heard footsteps approaching, "hello," she called, walking towards the visitor. "let me know if you need any help finding anything, i know this place like the back of my hand." the tenelith said with a smile. it was not unusual for residents within town or even other areas of the hollow to come in search of tombs and scrolls for their own personally research or enjoyment. in the past seren would smile and not bother them unless they addressed her first, but if she had become anything in the last few months, it was more confident.
option two. nearby a lake within vallarion.
when seren had first picked up a piece of charcoal and decided she was to draw in her free time, she had only done so as an excuse. but to her surprise, seren had found she had grown to enjoy it. the task could be technical, in a way. she could try her hardest to perfectly replicate a large stained glass window or the numerous tiles in a roof. which she found to be a delightful challenge. recently, seren enjoyment extended to sketching more academic subjects (such as the bat skull before her). her head cocked to the side as she tried to find the correct angle to approach such a subject. "i often find the first few lines the hardest to get right. it will set up the progress for the entire piece." she spoke to the person who shared the blanket she was sitting atop.
"Take as long as you like --- I am simply glad to be part of your artistic process. Your talents were exalted to me by another; I am eager to watch your progress." Elowen's intention to read had been abandoned, in open pursuit of admiring her child --- a common occurrence. The weather was pleasing upon her skin, which had long for exposure to open air, after a period of confinement. Sitting beside her daughter, overlooking the lake, whose surface remained unbroken save for the ripples brought by a gentle wind --- it was better than any remedy offered by a healer. "Perhaps you shall illustrate one day; think of the volumes you could write, added by your own illustrations."
"not many were told prior to our departure from vallarion," luz explained with a soft shrug. internally she brushed off the last conversation she had with ran before leaving, when the two had bickered and left much unsaid, when they were unable to even openly express fear the other was hurt, or thankfulness that they were safe. regardless, luz was thankful for the kind words from silas. the few friends they had in heliophra were a blessing, it seemed.
as he mentioned the sun, luz remembered that there were some amongst them that were able to enjoy such blessings. to sit amongst the warmth for hours and see the golden rays cradle nocturnia in it's glow. luz had never thought much about the sun, or craved being a sunwalker (as strength was always of value back home), but in this moment they ddi wonder what such an experience was like. "sadly i do not think i could join you under the sun's rays, but perhaps i could join you once it fell below the horizon. maybe the warmth it radiates could still be felt on the grass." she smiled at the thought. "did you ever wish you had been blessed with a different power as a child?" luz had often cursed the ground they walked on for not developing such abilities as their brother. but slias, who was granted powers in this life. had he ever wanted something else?
"Understandable --- besides, we were all preoccupied with ourselves, weren't we? Whether it be those tending to injured kin, or those like me, pondering the future of our world." He knew deeper bonds of secrecy were demanded for Luz's choice; but he would not demand they unveil the depths of their plan to him. Whatever guided their hand, was not for his ears; he could only hope that their venture, would prove to be right. He takes another draft from his cup, savouring the taste as they warmth of their venue settled upon him like a comforting blanket. He bows his head, humbled by his own disregard for the notion that the sun was not a friend to all --- such an idea seems unfathomable, almost lonely. If it were not for the moon, Luz would lack a constant to gaze upon. "Sunset it is; unless you are an early riser, a wonderful twilight, as the sun begins to make its appearance." Either would be a wonderful escapade --- Silas was always content to side beside kind company, and enjoy what nature offered as a respite. "Another gift? It seems unfathomable; I had longed for a dragon as a child, but who would not? But the sun is a constant companion; no matter my actions, it shall always be there for me. And for you? Did you ever desire a gift, beyond your strength of sword?"
It is easy to make space for him beside her. Ruoxi sways, leaning on the armrest of the wide seat, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand. Lazy and graceful still, like a rather spoiled cat. Her eyelashes flutter as she giggles, almost girlish. “Overdue, and then some. Why hide from me, hm? You must’ve put in effort to escape my grasp—I would’ve caught you before, otherwise, had you simply been wandering around near my sight. Were you scared of me?” She teases, not as mean as she could be. “Little old me?”
She leans forward and closer still. Ruoxi smells of sweet oranges, of cinnamon. “Guilty.” She whispers, and grins with her pearly teeth. “Maybe I spoke too soon, when I said you were safe from me.” But she leans back nonetheless, regaining her earlier posture. She preens and shines under the attention. This one, she does not mind; less cloying and overwhelming than the ones inside—though to admit so would take the pulling of her teeth. “I do enjoy a man that knows what I deserve.”
“We can share another type of warmth.” She waggles her eyebrows, less seductive and more like the fool another has already accused her several times of being. “But yes—and there are less of us, now.” She thinks of Firuze with her dark hair, her bright smile. “All the more reason to appreciate what is left.”
“Maybe you are wrong,” She says, even though she knows he is not. “The other Hollows can be quite dull, compared to our gleaming gold. Do you not think so? Are you a lover of the bitter cold, of the autumn winds, of the fresh flowers at their bloom?” Drakathar brought her a shiver, sunless as it was, and Vallarion had nothing but sourness for her. Morkhul, she found dreadfully boring. But she was a fickle woman, and most of her dislike came from those she loved, separated by distance and stuck in those distant Hollows were they could not be so easily reached. Maybe she would love it, were she to have a lighter heart.
She shakes her head, spreads her hands. “For most, but not me. Do you enjoy following the crowd?” She smirks. “Us fools appreciate such honesty. Such webs are such a bother to unravel, especially when one wishes to follow the thread to truth. And yet, I am not idiotic enough to not know one with great ambition needs to befuddle others for their goals.” She huffs, takes another drink from the bottle still in her grasp. “Blind them as you only can, then.” Ruoxi assumes much, and rudely. “It would bring no great pain, to see one of this Hollow with a crown upon their head. More-so, after the coldness that had come before,” Though Ruoxi feels the foreign grief at Vallarion’s end creep. So much for my bawdry tales, she thought, and of the way she used to flatter him less for the man himself and more the knight at his side. Ruoxi had not thought of him properly in quite a long time.
“Hiding from you? I could never do such a thing — perhaps you have not yet looked for me? I am usually found away from the fray.” He bows his head, amused by the thought of Ruoxi entreating him in a back library, or on a moonlit terrace. “Come; surely you are aware, you tower above the rest of us with your might.” There were some who simply possessed the faculties to exceed their mortal coil; they stood ten feet tall, supported by the depth of their character, and the might of their will. “If this is to be me unsafe, then I shall not protest; you make peril intriguing.” Silas cannot help but cock his head to the side, regarding her like he is a curious mouse, entreated by unfamiliar territory; she is toying with him, surely. But the notion does not affront him — it cannot. This, he thinks, must be her true power.
“These are tough, precarious times — it would be prudent then, to share our natural resources.” A small flush accompanies this reply; he cannot help it. Silas is suddenly inundated with the reality that he has not had an interaction such as this; it is exciting, but entirely unfamiliar. “We are sadly, a select number; it demands, potentially, closer proximity to one another.” It is unclear what he could provide, particularly in the realm of safety against extinction; but the words have left his mouth, and he vows to stand by such a statement. “You think me wrong?” He answers her cheerfully, humoured by her refusal; it a light thing. “I shall concede that I enjoy fresh flowers at their bloom — though nothing can replace the golden embrace of our home. Some from the other Hollows surely think me mad when I exalt its beauty endlessly — but who could help such a thing?”
His gaze follows her hands, as they expand, and her palms are exposed; if only he were skilled at reading life and love lines, and could proclaim where hers could intersect. “To follow the crowd, I would first have to enter it; how else could I have alluded your notice thus far, without drafting amongst the fringes?” His birthright precluded him from true seclusion, in both his gift, and forthcoming title; but Silas has endeavoured to be nameless, amongst a sea of those who fight for endless recognition. “I long ago gave up any attempt to untangle others webs — thus I am left to bear witness to the end of schemes, and not their inception. Are you a master of such deception? I do not think you befuddle others, though. You surely charm them, a skill that seems as natural to you, as communion with the sun.” His words are a high commendation, as chief a compliment as he feels he can give. There is no affectation in Ruoxi’s speech; it is fluid, graceful, imbued with another ease to bestow upon the other a sense of playfulness and levity. "We can shine down upon them — whatever the effect, it shall be the will of greater powers." Silas reaches for his own drink, feeling a familiar flush brushing across his cheeks. His desire for honest often intersected with a tendency to speak in cliches — truths in their own overworked way. "I have harboured some of the same thoughts; a warmth to spread throughout the Hollows. But I am not yet convinced it shall be as straightforward a process as proclaimed — further intrigue has yet to reveal itself."
"what could be more horrifying, indeed." he chuckled under his breath at the image the other had conjured -- a warm, enticing chime of a laugh. not enough to qualify as belly-deep laughter, but it was genuine. he was enjoying tristan's company -- he would not have feigned such a thing, for he seldom did what would not have served him in the slightest. "although i will say, when the woman does not happen to be one's sister… there is a great deal of satisfaction to be found in knowing one can, and has successfully drawn such ire from another." an arched brow, no reference made to the lady he had in mind. but that was the thrill of it, was it not? perhaps tristan would ponder; perhaps he would wish to uncover such a mystery now that it had been dangled before him. perhaps he would simply find amusement in the notion of wilful belligerence. "what could be more invigorating than a good, old-fashioned fight?" he did not allow for a pause; the answer in mind needed no verbalising. "perhaps you are of a sounder mind than i, tristan. i fear i am beginning to sound like a man who does not value his life expectancy as much as he should." he drank, slower this time, more deliberate. not to savour the drink, but to prolong the moment. "very few can afford to be unencumbered by their image." cai mused with a non-committal shrug. "that is not to say i do not have my limitations." a sly smile curved his lips. "ah, i should applaud a shallow person, every once in a while. of course, they usually lack awareness of their insipidity -- but i should think them refreshing, still. it grows tedious to be surrounded by so much intrigue, does it not?"
"Ah, now that I can wholly agree with; but alas, I fear I often amuse them too often to earn a delightful look of scorn. My jesters cap seems to be fusing with my hair, and medical intervention shall soon be required." He suppresses the desire to add he does not have a mysterious flourish to embellish his airs, but should he protest too much that the other is a dashing, Byronic man, Cai's good humour would surely be soured. The notion of what lady, if any, Cai spoke of flitted across his mind --- but Tristan is ensure if he would be entrusted with such information (or if he should; his inability to not share idle gossip with Eliza was a feat). "A walk amongst blooming flowers, or the full moon, unencumbered by a fleet of clouds? I confess though, I have never enjoyed a good old fashioned fight. Who would I fight?" A brawl for the honour of his house maybe, or for his sister --- but Tristan is keenly aware that he is assessed by most as a negligible, non threat. Such a venture would be deemed unnecessary by most. "Limitations? I cannot imagine you having such a thing, but I am not sure if it would be best for me to test them out. Duty certainly befalls you, as it does us all; but being second born, I am able to get away with certain freedoms not afforded to my elder kin." Cai's words stir further inquires --- but should he press further inquires, he would be rightfully marked as some sort of spy, on a mission of espionage to mine information. An inquisitive mind had grown undesirable, in untrusting times. "Shallow persons do present a certain change of scenery, or rather, change of pace; besides, don't we need them? All the better to appreciate great minds. I suppose I must align myself with them, somewhat; I have no appetite for intrigue, nor any intriguing plots to further."
he's such a gentle soul she wonders what the kelindorr would be without his charms . of course , they do very little to her , she has no interest in men and find them rather idiotic to be frank . straightening herself she stands in front of him , his frame still taller than her but all the same she does not feel small . " then let us agree upon that then , that morkhul is where we both wish to stay , no matter the shifting times . " she replies and watches him intently , trying to decipher his mannerisms and language even when hse has nothing to gain from it . " well who knows , perhaps destiny would rip you a part from them , as the world keeps trembling in fear of the unknown . " tilting her head to the side she smiles a little once more , amused by his honesty , something which seemed to lack in general from the velkynar of their land . " i do not think sneaking sweets is what you should fear lord kelindorr . " she murmurs and frowns . " have you considered the crown ? is there a kelindorr brave enough to wish for it ? or will you all stand in your fields of flowers praying for safety ? "
He does not know if it as an act Ophelia shall mark as foolish, or perhaps weak; but he smiles at her words, accepting whatever black mark his levity shall earn against me. "I shall miss it, when we are called back to convene; it shall be best then, for us to make the most of this homecoming." His intentions to put aside the worries of the world could not be shaken --- not even by the gravity of her words, which could only be heralded as a shuttering truth. "I can claim no dominion over fate, or the destiny which awaits me; but I shall only be parted from my kin when my final curtain closes." Tristan's voice deviates from its usual gaiety; he is unshakeable in his assertion, and hard in his convictions. But the return to talk of sweets removes the mask of severity from his features; he smiles once more, bowing his head. "I sense that you were a well behaved child, and were never chased from the kitchens with an angry utensil pointed at you." It is hard for him to picture Ophelia as small --- she seems to him, like someone who sprouted fully formed, speaking with eloquence and mystery. "Do you look down upon such a notice, my lady? If we all grabbed for power, there would be no one to rule; but as for my family's aspirations, I do believe I shall guard my kins secret as feverishly as you."
.✦ ݁˖ ⸻ A sense of relief flooded him when he realized the one who was overstaying their welcome was Elowen as opposed to any other; the two had discussed at length, a multitude of times, their lack of interest in both crown and rule. Their distrusts of the council was a secondary discussion, something which Brannon often treaded carefully on considering his own father was still entangled within it. " Have your children left you behind ? " The question was offered with a teasing lilt, though there was a sliver of genuine curiosity within it as he watched her eyes peer over each lingering guest as they packed their things down below.
" It is not something I expected , " Brannon admitted after a lingering pause, his own casual mood broken by this thought. It struck him as foolish, something which would only turn into a bloodbath no matter who participated or decided to acquiescence if not directly chosen. He felt comforted by the fact that Sloane only had interest in controlling who would be the unfortunate puppet, but there was great worry for Rhyaenna, and of Elowen's children; they were not his niece and nephew by blood, but he felt greatly protectively over them, too. Any interest in being crownwearer only spoke of trouble and a piece of Brannon knew that, through any warning he could offer, some would only thus run faster in the direction of danger. " Even if we sit out , I don't believe that marks us safe from what looms ahead , " there is disappointment laden on his tongue, offering a small tsk as he shifts in his chair to better offer his attention, " I'm hoping to check on the Tethalune family rather soon. It's not every day that there seems to be a replacement castle which falls out of the sky, no ? "
"They linger for my benefit --- though I assure them I am wholly mended, further preparations are being made." Elowen sighs, but it is an affectation; she cannot help but nurture a sense of joy, at such overtures of affections by her children. "I do believe they think me old --- a notion I often reject, but perhaps dear friend, we are old." She smiles at this; they stood beside one another, much the same as they had been in their youth --- Brannon has not lost his wanderlust, nor the zeal for knowledge they shared. Time had marked them, still; she liked to think for the better. "It seems we have happened upon a new age; one predicated on surprises." If she were twenty, it would be thrilling; unencumbered, and indoctrinated with the foolish sense of immortality youth grants, it would be a time with endless prospects. But Elowen, and Brannnon, have endured too much to be pleased --- she had worked too hard to cultivate a life of happiness, and to build a future for her children to inherit. The prospect of an open invitation to power weighs upon her; it is a daunting notion, fraught with too many questions of what if. "There shall be no safety in our seclusion -- but I do not know how to proceed. I cannot ally with the council, yet what if it is the only choice I can make to ensure my children's survival?" The notion catches in her thought, rendering it dry and coarse. She prays such a time would never come, and that she would be left to nurture her suspicions tucked away with her family; that her books would not fail to be the only mode of survival she needed. "I cannot fathom it myself; I suppose one better acquainted with the council would know, but I do not believe I have endeared myself to have their ears. But such a move --- how does one survive such a thing?"
a known voice enters her silence and the kelindorr's voice was recognizeable amongst all the foreign ones she'd had to endure this past month . siren turns lightly , straightening her back as she comes to look at the man who without a doubt knew more about said flowers than she could ever dream of . " it's not admiring . " chin lifted , claws out . was she ever going to be a delicate woman ? one who would smile and dance , giggle and show affection to others ? she was made of water yet cut like a slicing blade . " touching what is known when entering back into morkhul calms my mind and yes , i do agree with you ⸻ no matter the beauty of other hollows or lands , morkhul will forever be where i wish to be , to grow old and live . " it was no lie . she had always been a woman of morkhul , specifically the moonlake , but in itself what made her feel most safe was the embrace of the air and nature of morkhul . she would always prefer it to anywhere else . " vanished how ? have you grown afraid my lord ? " theres a sadistic smirk upon her lips at the notion , for a frightened man , was her favorite desert .
Neither her friend nor her foe, Tristan can claim so morsel of knowledge of Ophelia; that she shall never greet him with open arms, nor shall she let him babble without interruption. He has grown accustomed to it; adjusting to her humour as best he can. "Touching, then --- you must accept my apologies. It is my own habit, to admire." Tristan's eyes return to the petals intertwined with the earth, imagining their silken touch upon his own hand; but he resists, finding the prospect of squatting before Ophelia too humbling, even for him. "It is also the only home I shall ever envision for myself; I hope that fate is kind to me, and it remains that way. There is little that feels certain during this time --- but Morkhul shall always be my place of sanctity." Tristan chooses his next words carefully; he is unsure of Ophelia's reply, something she has certainly calculated, and desired. "Vanished yes, the feelings of home sickness and a desire to be with my kin --- why would such a thing make me afraid? Unless of course, you refer to my elder sister, should she catch me sneaking sweets again."
Ruoxi’s eyes narrow, though her grin does not falter, nor does her disposition further dim. The opposite, in fact, as she laughs, loud and shameless. “Is it the liquor or your sharp tongue that has convinced me of the logic to your words? Come, sit! Lounge with me, let us be alone together, as we always have been, even when far apart.” For there were few that had felt the touch of the sun; fewer still, now, though she did not wish to linger on such a fair face from memories that had turned to ash moons ago.
She raises an eyebrow, her head tilts in concealed delight. “I do not know, for I am no knight-thief.” Her sunlit gaze goes to her own fingers, deceptively slender and elegant, even with the myriad of healed cuts from the kisses of the edges of blades and other misadventures. “Even if I have been accused of stealing hearts and breaths away most mercilessly.” Ruoxi winks. “I would tell you to be careful, but, ah, this bottle is too sweet, and I do not feel like moving from my seat. You are safe from me.” That, and Theano would be sour.
“Such piercing words. Too forward by half, even when deep in one’s cups. You must know me better than I thought,” She leans forward. “for you to know that I would find the gall to be quite fetching. I am not charitable.” The lie slips from her lips easily. “So I will give you an answer, and you will owe me your own.” It is not a question, and so she does not wait for his agreement before continuing such a trade.
Pensive, the question turns in her head like burning liquor on her tongue. For a moment she is quiet, before her expressions turns into sadness, one that flashes like the glare of the morning light: there for a moment, gone the next. “Neither. Both. So you say your heart will lighten, once you return to your home’s safe arms? Ah, but will the walls surrounding you not be its own excruciating embrace? Perhaps believing one’s home to be safe is the biggest mistake of all.” As the words leave her mouth, she realizes she knows such too intimately, and bitterly so. “But it is where one can hide, I will admit to that. To lick one’s wounds, or to plan one’s next move. The latest news have all in a tizzy, do they not? I would not be surprised to learn of strings being pulled, even after what has occurred.” She took another swig of the bottle, off-handed in all that she spoke. Ruoxi was not a woman of subtleties, and of manipulations even less so. “Now, your turn, or you will find me a woman scorned. Why do you seek loneliness, my fellow sunkissed one? Fear? Sick of it all? Or escaping being tangled in another's strings?”
“I must concede, I cannot believe that my influence has overridden the liquor; but I shall gladly be your company. It is an overdue communion, is it not?” Silas is glad to be by her side; he has no perfect knowledge of her person, but bonds that stretch beyond this lifetime stretch before them. “I have no doubt that that — tell me, how do you plead to such charges?” He delivers his words with a knowing smile; there is no need for Ruoxi’s clarification, though he asks for it all the same. “Well, if you were to strike me down, I would not be affronted you doing so; you would have good reason, if only for your own amusement.” If reason were given the chance to reign, it would protest that the person before him made no idle warnings — but Silas bade reason to sit aside, for the night was too promising, and left him endowed with only warm, happy sentiments. "We do know each other, don't we? In a way; we've shared the same warmth, thousands of times." It is rare, for Silas to speak of his gift; he treasures his connection to the sun so fiercely, that he guards all knowledge of its power, unable to translate his feelings into common language. But here, he is unguarded; he knows Ruoxi will understand. "I believe it is a fair trade — and I promise you, that I am unusually bound by a desire to speak whatever truth rests with me." Such honesty that lived within him unguarded, has become a source of concern in his own mind; but he does not delve into such thoughts now. Ruoxi's biting refrain begs for further prompting; to understand, what has cast such a dark cloud upon the prospect of home. Silas however, does understand the art of restraint — he shall mull over the matter, but nothing further. “It is a cage, in its own way; but is it not the most comfortable one afforded to me? But you, I think, prefer the freedom that other hollows invite — even if they are uncharted, unpredictable.” It is hard for Silas to fathom Ruoxi being tested as he has; her command over her person is too great, to be unmoored by any person or cataclysm that may befall her. “I have no doubt that when we are all reconvened, much will have transpired in our separation — how could it not? The opportunity …. It shall be too great for most to resist.” The chance too, for him to step aside; to eschew his parents plans, and grant his sibling what she has long desired — a title worthy of her many gifts. But Silas does not yet know what choice he shall make; he does know, such a matter shall not bother him tonight. He is not morose as he speaks, but pensive; his brow furrows only in thought, seeking to convey the stringent airs he had felt pressing feverishly upon his brow. "All three, perhaps? I am happy to have this freedom, if only for a short spell — freedom from expectation, and freedom from the whims of others. I know I am an outlier at court; I have not spun any webs to ensnare others in."
it took every bit of strength within the solkarith not to respond with a more negative comment. it would do neither of them well to mention that most of the people they had come in contact with upon entering heliophra were not delighted to see her. in fact, after an openly uncomfortable reaction was given when luz provided her full name to one of the staff in the tripathi house, luz made the mental note to only introduce herself as luz from this moment on. they would know she was from braxigar by sight, but they did not have to know she was a solkarith also. "i suspect most were surprised to see me depart with lord tripathi once we left celembron. it's best to keep everyone on their toes, is it not?" they asked playfully, taking a sip of the ale before them as they settled next to silas.
at the mention of being a partner and guide, luz was immensely grateful for the old man's presence. it would always fair better to have more friends than foes. but at his question, her face fell. she was not very familiar with heliophra's geography (never their best subject) or what it had to offer it's people. "to be frank i have not thought much about what heliophra had to offer outside of training. what is your favorite part of your home? something you'd like to share with another?"
"I certainly was --- though I lack a circle of informants that most keep close to be well informed, of coming surprises. But you've never been one to be predictable, surely? These growing pains, they shall pass." Silas could claim no perfect knowledge of Luz's new, fledgling life here; nor the blackened shadow their homeland would cast upon their head, coloring every interaction before it had begun. But if any were to rise to such a challenge, it would be Luz --- it had been deeply impressed upon Silas that they would not be an idle player, letting fate take it course. Luz's destiny would be firmly in their own hands.
He beamed readily at Luz's warm reaction to his question; whether she felt true curiosity, or indulged kindness to suit his mood, he did not mind either. Silas was gladdened to have them here; he had acquired a small circle of friends whilst abroad, but it was a number that reflected a tender acquaintance with each. "In truth, it is the sun; it is boundless, wondrous, always giving. My favorite activity is to sit on a wide expanse of grass, and let its beams wash over me --- I know you are not one to be idle, but if you ever join me, I promise you shall not be disappointed."
"Auntie-!" warmth overflows from her, bubbly and soft and effervescent as it always had been, swallowing the gloominess that threatened to swallow her whole as those beady eyes light up, focusing, suddenly, as her arms seek to ensnare, such as they do, before she could help to will them into submission, wrapping around her aunt with unstained affection and excitement; she was ever so excited to see her waltzing about her own home, you'd think it was a rare occurrence. Slowly she unwraps herself, the vine like grip yielding as the girl swiftly smooths over her crumbled gown, a bit, cheery smile on her lips. "Hey!—you came to seek refugee in the same place as me," she sounded so excited by the very idea their minds should cross through the same thought. She must have done something right, then, she thinks, for while she did not trust her own feet to guide her, she surely trusted Elowen's. "Did you see there's an owl nest right up there?! Oh, isn't this place so wonderful? I could lose myself here for hours," forever, perhaps, if he had not been so keen on venturing out into the world, determined to offer her family at least a shred of the kindness and dedication they had spared her all her life.
The girl gasps, feigning wound, her arm finding her aunt's unceremoniously as she huddles closer. "Lukesh pinky swore you were hiding something in there... what else could it be?" she laughs a joyful laugh at the brief memory as it flashes through her brain; oh, how patient she was with her. She could only hope to master half of her composure during her lifetime.
"It's only dangerous for those walking underneath me, really..." she muses as something of an impish smile begs to tug at the corner of her lips. "Me? Mm... well, I've learned to swim since we last spoke, and grew a few more inches to spite everyone who said I couldn't... Oh, I thought I liked a boy last summer! But... well, he was awfully mean, so I accidentally shoved him into a fountain..." she doesn't dwell long on that, aiming those fawn eyes up at her aunt, as playful as they are inquisitive. "Mom says if I don't meet anyone soon, she has half a mind to ship me to Braxigar," she's puckers, nodding, as if resigned to the thought, the threat surely empty and meant to nudge her head out of her books. "You've met them... are they truly as frightening as everyone says?"
The warmth of Mina’s encompassing embrace earns an unmarred smile across Elowen’s countenance; for the first moment in some time, she is untouched by any darker sentiments, and is only imbued with a sense of deep joy and love. With a short laugh, she meets her niece’s statement with a warm gaze. “Well — yes. But I am still going to deny you the right to read so high up in trees. What if you lost your footing!" She cannot help some form of maternal instinct; even though reason told her Mina was too well acquainted with her stoop to ever be successfully dislodged. "An owl's nest? I may perhaps, need to amend my former admonishments; to be able to reside so close to owls, is a sign of deep wisdom. They are one of nature's most clever creatures. However — you must promise to be careful, lest you are hoping a most becoming stranger shall approach, and come to your rescue." Such a thing would not come into being now; they were enshrined in the safety of their home, no longer in close proximity to unknown entities. But Elowen was a romantic — or a fantasist to some — and she would carry her romantic inklings with every step. “I could produce a volume of the history of our lands you have not read — if you are good.” Elowen cannot keep her face a mask of severity; she softens instantly, sporting once more her brilliant smile. Moments such as this feel like a rarity; Mina has defied her orders, and dared to grow up. It is a comfort to Elowen that her humour and gaiety remains unmarred by life; too often, does it succeed in tampering levity and curiosity such as hers. She knows she cannot protect Mina, or her children, from the vast cruelties of life; but she would try still, if only to comfort her own heart. “You did manage to sprout up — despite my protests that you remain small enough for me to carry around forever. But a boy! What is the point of ruling my house, if I am to be so uninformed of the romantic lives of you and my children? I am glad, however, you pushed him into a fountain.” Whatever his transgression, it did not matter much to Elowen; even if he were wholly innocent, she would support Mina’s venture. For however much Elowen aspired to see her niece happily settled, it would not be at the sacrifice of her happiness, or unencumbered spirit. “I may lock you all in the library if you do not become at least amiable to matrimony soon — or better yet, forbid you all from reading.” She smooths the underside of Mina’s cheek, tracing a small heart where the softness of her skin meets well defined bone. “They are fearsome yes — but utterly human, I assure you. I think they are afraid of us, in a way; they fear our judgement.”
"a mighty bat, is it? pray tell, do you envision the body of a bat, and a tiny replica of your sister's head placed seamlessly upon it? surely her very own scowl would best demonstrate her disapproval." the imagery lured boisterous laughter from cai, the sort that blended naturally with the rough crowds, as if they were but two regular patrons, two men, engaging in the simplest, most human delights of life: laughing, and talking. "it is good to escape. even if our freedom is short-lived, and this particular cage just happens to be far less gilded than what we are accustomed to." caged they were -- dismissed to their hollows, with no regard for personal objection. the tavern granted the illusion of escape, no more. it was a bold statement, for the youngest of house elarion, tasked with standing an unwavering front for his lord father, councilman. but within this grotesque space, cai could wear the mantle of irreverence. "would it be terribly gauche to argue i do not concern myself with the opinions others hold of me?" his features stilled, countenance giving naught away, before a grin sprawled across cheeks -- dimpling them with mischief. "should they come to me in hopes of unravelling some grand mystery that haunts my person, they may do so -- but i will not be held accountable for nurturing their intrigue, nor for disappointing it. one cannot betray another's expectations if one has taken care never to cultivate them, no?"
"Alas, if only she were to be shrunken in her fury -- but in fact, she grows an enormous pair of wings, and doubles in height ; which, given her stature isn't terribly tall. But the effect is quite terrifying, I can assure you. You are correct, however --- what could be more horrifying, then the scowl of a woman that is engraged by you?" Tristan gives a small shudder for good measure, past indiscretions creeping into his mind; he was glad if only, to be a head taller than Isolde now, and more equipped to speed away from her side. "Do you ever ponder what it would be like? To live without one? It would be a life full of hardships the likes of which we have never known; but it would be rewarding too, wouldn't it?" Even beneath his trappings of familial duty and lineage, Tristan could not aspire to the burdens placed upon Cai; though seemingly formidable in every aspect, he did not wish to step foot, and take the others place. "It would be a refreshing statement --- very few move throughout the court unencumbered by their image. Or rather, the image they wish to craft for themselves." He could envision dark words and disapproving scowls rolling off Cai's silken raven cap, their disapproval failing to make a home inside his head. Tristan was himself, as he lacked any fortitude to be otherwise; Cai's rebellion was purposeful, daring. "You continue to prove why you are such an enigma, my lord. I do believe that further acquaitance with you, only works to perpetuate your myths --- but that is how it should be, isn't it? Closer proximity should reveal further depths; it is a mark of a shallow person, to truly be all that they seem."
lukesh had just finished cleaning himself up after he had ran away from the citadel, knowing that he had to return to care for his family. he pushed the door open and was immediately met by an agitating voice, seren's. he sighed and rolled his eyes. "i apologize, i was looking through some things in the library and got distracted." he lied. it was mostly true, he was outside the library before he ran away. it took more time getting back then he thought. he picked up the empty trays and added empty cups and plates. he scoffed at her comments. she was right but lukesh was definitely not going let her know that. "well, i'm here now and i'm not going anywhere, unless you both need something to drink or eat." he said with a smirk. "i could even read to you both if you wish." lukesh commented. he continued to grab the empty items and place them near the door. he walked over to where seren was sitting and pulled the pillow out and gave it a quick fluffing. "see, i am trying to be helpful, seren." he joked.
It could not be said that Elowen relished her convalescence; such a notion would be strongly denied, as evidenced by her elevated ankle. But she could not deny that, perhaps, it brought her a deep sense of tenderness to be so lovingly tended to by her children ---- Seren, whose heart was readily shared, could not be parted from her side. And Lukesh, who stalked bout seemingly unburdened people, could not deny the tenderness that lined his features. Settled by her daughter, Elowen could only gaze upon her children's tete a tete with a poorly suppressed expression of amusement; Seren, chiding her brother, whilst Lukesh skirted all reprimanding with a simmering air.
“My sweet girl.” She could only begin with some demonstration of affection; such was her way. Elowen held a hand to Seren, employing the most benign and tender expression she could muster, to bid her daughter from further crimsoning under duress. “I am sure there is no power here on earth, nor in the heavens above, that would stop you from moving me to another seat should I wish for such; but I am in need only of your company, nothing more.” Pausing a moment, Elowen reached for what she knew would readily distract Seren from the annoyance that had settled upon her humor; even if it would earn her a sharp ama over its impropriety. “A great friend of yours spoke highly of your strength and kindness to me --- he would be well impressed so see you now, as fierce as a lion.” If Seren would demure or protest her words, Elowen would only be capable of producing a girlish grin; she could not help herself.
Her eyes drifted to Lukesh, his hands now laden with cutlery and plates; the voice she employed in his direction, carried the same air of levity she had directed towards Seren. “Distracted? By which titles, my beloved? I believe Seren has read nearly every book in the library --- you two could discuss what you found.” She would not ruin this gossamer of happiness with further admonishments, but her words were her best tool beyond an open recrimination; here, with her, with his sister, was his rightful place --- whatever else called to him, need wait. “Would you read to us? Or better yet, tell us a story? Maybe about one of your mysterious misadventures, or a tale about whatever fair maiden has captured your attention?” The latter of which would earn a derisive eye roll from Lukesh, but it would grant her a smile upon Seren’s face that mirrored the one she sported now. “I am simply delighted to have you both with me; next time I miss you both, I shall have to have another grave accident."
@moonvcils
"as refreshing as that notion may be, i would urge caution with idle beliefs." his words were proffered with satirical intent. cai was not in the habit of urging prudence, for he did not often enough care to exercise it, himself. political stumbles did not escape his eye, and he filed them away, as any dutiful scion of elarion would do -- but never had he exploited another's blunder. he simply did not care to partake in a game he was sure to lose. "you are here. do you claim no interest in recent events?"
as tristan's gaze searched, cai welcomed it with a bemused chuckle, clipped fingernails drumming against wood grain. "a man of mystery. now, i fear your opinion of me is entirely too generous." a slug of his ale, too thin to delight, before the well-worn tankard was placed back precisely where he had lifted it from. "we all attend the same courts when summoned. we endure the same, dreary affairs. i am a man of many faces -- i've no doubt you have long learned the art of selective truth, yourself."
"Should I ever begin to be swept away by foolish or misguided truths, I am sure my sisters ears will start tingling, and she will descend like a mighty bat, intent on setting me straight." His sister ruled their family with perfect grace; his antics, albeit unconventional, would never dare stray from her guiding hand. Tristan hangs his head, unsure whether the flourish is merely his usual dramatics, or an irrepressible act of defeat at the point Cai presented to him. "I believe I have had too much interest in recent events. Aside from my sister's convalescence, it felt impossible to escape the weight of the fire --- it's good, isn't it? To escape now, if only for a night." It pleases him to have earned a small modicum of laughter from the other; ever did the humble jester, seek the pleasure of his court. "Come, surely I am not the first to propose such a notion? And as your foil, being entirely far too open, I am in the perfect position to observe your demeanour and pronounce it mysterious." Tristan did not intend to overly praise his companion, but flattery was the product of genuine feeling; and who better than he, whose every sentiment lived upon his countenance, to sense another's ability to move with such curious mystic. "I have begun perhaps, to observe the art and see its power --- but it has never been something that has appealed to my nature. It may be naive, yet it is my truth; I shall only ever come to the table as I am. Now, will such an attitude serve me as well as your skills of transformation? Certainly not."
𝖜𝖍𝖔: brannon caldrithen and OPEN (2/5) [ vallarion hollow ] 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊: balcony in celembron castle 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓: not long after everyone is leaving for their respective hollows
.✦ ݁˖ ⸻ Brannon had felt great relief the moment Veltheron had announced all would return to their hollows at once. He'd done his best - though a lousy job when one considered his title as heir - to host the various hollows since the fire but had been greatly anticipating this moment. Certainly, inevitably, the heir to Celembron would be aggrieved by the fact that he too would be stuck up within his respective hollow, but for now Brannon watched from above as the last stragglers packed their things and turned away from Celembron castle. There would be much to tidy; the lingering affects of each hollow and house a proper headache for Brannon to consider, but this was the first time his shoulders relaxed since the fire had broken out and destroyed house Tethalune's white oak.
Hardly any time had passed before the echo of footsteps resonated off the sprawling marble floors behind him and Brannon could groan in reluctance at the idea of social hour. He'd endured for days and weeks on end and his hand was raised lazily in an unamused greeting , " I know little of what is planned and what will be , but you should have little worry if you plan to go to bat for crownwearer . I've never any interest . " He smiled as though the idea of crownwearer was amusing ; a puppet for the council to whisper their ideas to, he was a freespirit and would not wither himself for their expectations.
"Then we shall be well suited to remain friends --- for there are many great agonies I would rather endure than have that mantle." She was well accustomed to Brannon's moods, and eased beside him with a quiet smile; a long awaited sense of peace was due to settle upon his home, and hers in turn. Elowen did not count herself amongst those pinning for what seclusion would take from them; for she would be granted only the sanctity of those she loved, those she trusted. The balcony affords her an obstructed view of the lands before her; a procession of departing guests streamed below them, saddled with luggage and whatever sentiments lay heavy in their hearts. "We must enjoy this reprieve to the fullest; I expect nothing less than madness, when we are all rejoined. An open invitation to vie for the title of crownwearer? Every overlooked second child shall be frothing at the mouth; every wayward sibling, granted an opportunity to prove themselves. How shall we all survive?" Elowen's tone is light, airy; but she has little optimism for a peaceful transition of power. She could not yet decide if she found the councils decision wise (it would be most painful to take up their side); it would however, be divisive. "And you, my dear friend? How shall you spend your time, now that your burden is lessened by such an open field?"
Open Starter: [ accepting 0/3 ] Location: Vallarion
The air in Vallarion had shifted since the tragedy, and she waited for the safe return of her loved ones with baited breath; the very air was laden with grief and loss everywhere her feet wandered to, and so she sought respite closer to the clouds—veiled beneath a ceiling of leaves where streaks of moonlight pierced only faintly, with a leg idly swaying, dangling off the branch; she had a book in her hands, she always did, and a fruit in the other to chew on, more so to placate her anxiety than genuine hunger.
The council's announcement had brought little comfort to her restless heart, but she could only hope others would find some peace in it; The Tethalune, most of all, who had lost the most. She sighs inaudibly at intervals, her dark eyes skimming through the pages as her mind struggled to focus, hoping things would gradually begin to settle once more, that the horrors would cease, and the reason for such a tragedy would be revealed as something more than just an act of pure evil. That was too awful for her to contemplate. How could anyone do such a thing?
The red apple slips from her clumsy fingertips and she fumbles with it before it drops with a loud thud—! It bounces off someone's skull onto the ground, and the girl squeaks, her eyes saucer-wide and horrified as she spots them, covering her mouth.
"Oh shi—I mean, I'm sorry!" she stumbles over her words, climbing down the tree impressively fast, really. "Are you okay? Oh, please don't have a concussion... how many of me are you seeing?"
The presence of greenery beneath an uninhibited moon, whose glow beamed heavenly across all in its dominion, granted Elowen a degree of peace she had not enjoyed in weeks. Her lungs, now mended, indulged in the dew that lingered in the night air; she had come to walk, as she often did, without destination or purpose. The castle, her family, slept soundly; the sanctity of dreams return, by the unquestionable safety of home. It is with this sense of blithe, that her dark crown is greeted with a loud thump! A slight pain follows, though it is readily replaced by a feeling of mirth; Mina, scrambling for purchase down the oak of a Methuselah tree, could never earn a morsel of ire from Elowen.
"If you wanted to capture my attention, all you need do was call out --- when have I ever turned you away? Save for when I would catch you clinging to my skirts, hoping to find a stray sweet in my pockets." She outstretches a hand, offering to her niece; Elowen cannot recall the last time they communed beneath the moonlight --- it is a travesty, one that she hopes to readily rectify. "I shall refrain from chastising you, as I always have, about the dangers of reading perched amongst branches --- but in return, you must promise to be my company. And, you must offer me at least one good morsel of gossip; particularly, if it pertains to you."
where: a tavern within heliophra who: luz solkarith & any heliophrian muses [0/3]
when agreeing to return to heliophra with hiran, luz had not considered that would mean being an outsider once again. she thought she knew what it meant, having growing up in braxigar and being a solkarith, but it turns out that being from braxigar and existing in heliophra was a completely different type of experience. so she tried to find someplace that felt familiar, and it did not take long before luz sought out a bar. there was nothing a few drinks and jokes couldn't fix. at least, that seemed to be the case in their life thus far.
however, luz was two drinks in and felt nothing aside from a painful awareness of how out of place they looked with their ruby red eyes. thankfully, it wasn't long until a familiar face made their way up to the bar, and luz felt a sigh of relief leave their chest. "fuck, i am glad to see you," luz muttered, not wasting time to saddle up next to them and motion for the bartender to bring them two drinks. "i think i may have to walk in pairs for the foreseeable future. just so i don't feel so out of place and alone."
Merriment and drink, nestled amongst the people of his hollow, had left Silas imbued with a deep sense of calm; though he earnestly laid claim to an allegiance of people above all else, he could deny that home afforded him a tangible portion of the heavens. His cup having run dry, Silas took to moving through the tavern, his eyes pleased by the splendid assembly; the affairs of the court had no welcome here, where simple pleasures reigned supreme. It is a welcome delight then, to notice a dark sheath of hair that has become well known to him --- Luz sits alone, seemingly basting in a sheen of melancholy. "I was surprised, and delighted, at the announcement you would be joining us. It is an act of true bravery; but I know your sacrifice runs deep."
He knows of their tenacity, that they resemble the romantic heroes of old; but their choice has stripped them of their former life, and no degree of strength could shield one from the heartbreak such an act provides. "Come --- you shall not be alone, at the very least. I shall promise to act as a companion, in all taverns and gardens. Time well help you settle in; there shall be much for you to enjoy. What do are you most looking forward to in Heliophra?"
