got a secret, can you keep it?

better lock it, in your pocket taking this one to the grave Sidhe | Unseelie

[sidheisms-blog]

An Unlikely Meeting | Open

[sidheisms-blog]

@aurum-fatalis

So dismissive. So eerily calm. Lucretia would have almost preferred to be shouted at. It was no wonder that the snake was the focus of the Gold family crest, as Lord Gold eyed her like a viper preparing to poison its prey. “We are more influential. Those who disrespect you are disposed of, isn’t that what you taught Tybalt and me?” Her voice softened and her hands wrung together between her knees. “I would only exchange one unfortunate situation for another. Being subject to a husband instead of you. Would…would you allow me to take one of the servants with me when I am wed? For companionship, of course.” If Lucretia was to be subject to this misfortune, she might as well help a slave escape, but oh, how difficult it was when her confidence was fading.

“Are you implying the Moonsongs have disrespected me?” His gaze was cool, eyes unblinking. The Moonsong patriarch owed him a favor, one the Lord Gold had ensured he was not going to forget anytime soon. Just as Ambrose’s informants kept a close eye on his fellows of title. If Moonsong had deliberately said or done something to stand in Gold’s way, he most certainly would be cut down. “Or are you implying I should dispose myself of you, since you seem intent on vexing me?” He was silent for several long moments, contemplating her proposition. He could dismiss her requests, sure. Force her into the already aggreed upon marriage with not a moment wasted on her complaints. And yet, it would be far easier, much better for publicity, if she were a willing bride. “I would not be opposed, depending on the servant, of course.” He spooke carefully, weighing each word before letting them be heard. “We can discuss this further, depending on your behavior at Miss Crow’s wedding.”

[sidheisms-blog]

An Unlikely Meeting | Open

[sidheisms-blog]

@theapprenticekeeper

Indigo was rather terrified just on principle, sent to the Unseelie court despite her protests to track down a rare book that, supposedly, could only be found there. She couldn’t have looked more out of place in her practical, modest, pastel dress. And apparently, being there meant dealing with one Lord Ambrose Gold. She was sure to curtsy lower than usual, keeping her eyes determinedly fixed to somewhere near the base of his desk. At least the carvings looked high quality, even if she was afraid to pick out the details.

“Thank you for seeing me, my lord,” she said. Too quietly. She was too quiet at the best of times, but here, all her energy going into not visibly shaking, she couldn’t quite draw up the nerve to speak any louder. At least she hadn’t stammered. Yet.

“Keeper Persephone Root sends her regards. She…” Indigo swallowed. Why did the carved thorns on the desk look so menacing? They were only flowers, and she liked flowers. “I was told that if I wish to find a copy of any rare books, you would be the one most likely to know where to find them. It. My lord.”

At first, the Unseelie Lord was far from impressed. Whoever thought he was the man to send this untitled, unannounced woman sorely mistook him for one who had time to waste on nobodies. Surely, it was some joke played by one of his lesser fellows. No matter, Ambrose would be sure to return the favor at a later date.

Cool gaze taking in the woman who would speak to him, he found himself much more inclined to not rip this woman to shreds as she observed the proper greetings and titles of one befitting his station. Good. It was about time an outsider displayed some manners. “You would do well to speak up, child,” he noted, hands settling on his desk, fingers entwined in each other.

A delicate brow rose as she further explained herself. “A book the Keeper cannot find herself? Interesting.” He sat up, a measured smile crossing his features in a way meant to be friendly, only succeeding in being polite. “And were you given a title of this book? More importantly, what does your master want from this book? How much is my assistance worth?

[sidheisms-blog]

An Unlikely Meeting | Open

“You must be truly desperate to come to me.” 

He says this with a bit of a chuckle, gathering his documents into a neat stack before setting them down and leaning back in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

[ryes-up]

“That’s one word for it,” Rye responded as he sat in the chair across from Gold, on the edge of the chair as if he thought he’d cats something if he touched too much in this office. He wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t. “Desperate, or impatient. No point in wasting time asking questions of people that don’t know the answers, when I could come to the man self-proclaimed to know all there is to know.” He put emphasis on ‘self-proclaimed,’ as if to convey his uncertainty in the man who seemed to be the source of all information, true or fictitious. He wouldn’t have come here if he’d had any other option. After his own failure to return Robin to the King’s brand of punishment, Rye knew he wouldn’t be privy to any information about whether someone else had found him. But the one person who would likely be the best source of information was, unfortunately, the same man that had broken Robin and replaced him with the broken shell that became Puck.

“My brother is looking for information on the whereabouts of Puck,” Rye said in an even tone, despite hating every word that he spoke. He hated using the name Puck, and he no longer wanted to call Oberon his brother, but the familial link gave him at least something to stand on. He disliked this part, having to play nice and be polite to people he hated. But one good thing at least, that had come of his being the bastard child, the half-Unseelie and half-Wolf, the knight that no one believed deserve the title, was that he had learned over the centuries to fit in just about anywhere, whether people believed he belonged there or not. Be cause he didn’t really, belong anywhere, but he could play the part of someone that did.

And now he had to play the part of the King’s ever-loyal and dutiful brother. “I know better than to waste my time asking around anywhere else when I can just come and ask you, if you happen to have heard any rumors making their way around? I’m sure you want him returned to face my brother’s punishment as much as Oberon does.” Rye really just wanted to know how much Gold knew, how much his brother knew. If either of them knew where Robin was, if Rye needed to find a way to help Robin hide, if they were getting close to finding him, or if there were still chasing their tails through the Wildlands.

[sidheisms-blog]

A perhaps overly gracious smile took on the features of the Lord Gold. “I assure you, there is very little that escapes my ears.” Nothing, if he could help it. Yet even he was aware he was not entirely infallible. It would be better, however, if no one else was lead to believe he had weaknesses. As far as the public would know, he had eyes and ears everywhere. Absolutely everywhere.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Ambrose made a show of standing, straightening his garb before turning to one of his numerous storage containers, flipping through files with a dismissing precision. “Might I interest you in tea while you wait? Wine?” A snap of his fingers spelled the attendance of one of his many, many servants, ready and willing to attend to Rye’s request. Hospitality was a must in the Gold household. No guest was to ever feel uncared for. Only their levels of care differed. 

“Here we are.” Finally finding the particular file in mind, he returned to his seat, slowly sliding it across the desk for Rye’s inspection. “It is an ongoing search, as I’m sure you can imagine. His Majesty will find all my current intelligence on the matter in here.” A lie, of course. He’d be a fool show his entire hand, even on behalf of his Majesty the king. “I can have a servant copy it for his Majesty’s personal viewing if it would please his Majesty.”

[sidheisms-blog]

An Unlikely Meeting | Open

[aurum-fatalis]

sidheisms:

“That’s no way to speak to your father.”

A delicate brow was raised regarding, well, everything about his daughter. From her horrid posture to her abrasive placement of the boxes. She interrupted his work for this? Was this some sort of game to her? “You will act like a woman befitting your station,” he said with a dismissive glance back to his work. “I’ve no use for jewelery - do with it as you will. Now, are you here to waste my time or do you truly want something worthy of discussion?”

Lucretia picked at her fingernails, painted with black varnish as she liked them. “I’ll act as I wish,” she retorted. “I’m a woman grown, not some little sapling you can manipulate as you please.” At least with his mind on his work, he wouldn’t have the time to beat her senseless. “I’ve no use for jewelry either, Father. I’m here to return this useless package to you. I refuse to marry that silly bard. And Luna Crow’s wedding?” Lucretia laughed, aghast. “Not a chance.And certainly not with that redheaded fool at my side.”

[sidheisms-blog]

If Lucretia meant to try his patience, she was certainly succeeding. How was it so difficult for her to understand that what benefitted him, often did her? Couldn’t he have some good old obedience respect from his eldest? She tested him, certainly to force his hand one way or another. And as tempted as it was to lock her away, he steeled his temper. “The Moonsongs are an influential family, I’d hate to see the repercussions of backing out of the betrothal.” More specifically, how that would incur his wrath.  “And I wasn’t aware you were so keen on remaining in my house.” Opening a drawer at his side, he pulled out files to be looked over. “That is not your decision to make.”

[sidheisms-blog]

What do you think of Argos? Is he a good counselor to the king?

“I am in no position to doubt his Majesty, nor his choices of company. After all, his Majesty knows what is best for our kingdom, however,” he pauses, making a show of glancing around before leaning in just a tad closer to his conversation partner, as if he were about to divulge a tremendous secret.

“If I had gold for each time I had to perform - what is it the humans call it? - damage control, my fortune would’ve easily doubled, if not tripled by now. His Majesty knows best, I have no doubt, and yet I can’t wonder if perhaps Argos simply isn’t cut out for the task.”

[sidheisms-blog]

If you were king instead of Oberon, what would be your first decree?

"Surely, you know to even discuss such matters could be considered treason. I would never think to replace his Majesty, however,” his mind drifts to a small vault containing only the most well-protected of secrets - some of which would get any involved surely banished if not killed. “If anything were to, unfortunately, happen to his Majesty, I would surely be willing to take on the responsibilities of the kingdom, starting with our little human problem.”

[sidheisms-blog]

An Unlikely Meeting | Open

“You must be truly desperate to come to me.” 

He says this with a bit of a chuckle, gathering his documents into a neat stack before setting them down and leaning back in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

[aurum-fatalis]

“I know, Father. It truly pains me to look upon your face.”

Lucretia planted herself in the chair directly in front of her father’s desk. It was, perhaps, her least favorite seat in the entire house. Slouching in the least ladylike manner possible, she slammed two golden boxes onto Lord Gold’s desk. “The necklace and earrings you bought for the wedding. I don’t want them. I don’t need them. And it would do you best to stop trying to win me over with little gifts. It’s never worked on me.”

[sidheisms-blog]

“That’s no way to speak to your father.”

A delicate brow was raised regarding, well, everything about his daughter. From her horrid posture to her abrasive placement of the boxes. She interrupted his work for this? Was this some sort of game to her? “You will act like a woman befitting your station,” he said with a dismissive glance back to his work. “I’ve no use for jewelery - do with it as you will. Now, are you here to waste my time or do you truly want something worthy of discussion?”

[sidheisms-blog]

An Unlikely Meeting | Open

“You must be truly desperate to come to me.” 

He says this with a bit of a chuckle, gathering his documents into a neat stack before setting them down and leaning back in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

[sidheisms-blog]

Gala of Gold - O p e n

[the-golden-son-blog1]

sidheisms:

Ambrose took his time, observing his guests as they turned back to themselves and their previous conversations. There wasn’t a soul that escaped his gaze, not a detail safe from his notice. It was a tedious practice, perfecting such a meticulous sweep in the time he took to complete it. A practice that was well worth the time put into it, however, as perfectly demonstrated by the fortune his family enjoyed this day.

If he gave any form of indication of recognizing his son’s presence, it would not be noticed by any old guest. Not initially, anyway. The slight incline of his head at the boy’s question was but a show he put on while he finished another sweep of the crowd. When he was finished, he turned, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. This action, like most of his, was but an act for any wandering eyes, though it was nowhere near as hollow as it would’ve been if it were someone else, like Lucretia, for example. “Ambassadors meant to have word with His Majesty,” he said it just as plainly as one would when talking about the weather, albeit far quieter. “His Majesty wants no surprises.”

Tybalt wasn’t surprised by his father’s answer- if His Majesty wanted His majesty got- though the younger Gold always felt out of place when Ambrose brushed over him like this. Sure, he was young, but he wouldn’t be so forever. If there were plans or intentions involved he felt entitled to know them. How was he supposed to follow in his father’s footsteps- as he’d been shaped his whole life to do- if he wasn’t included? It had taught him a trait his father might have disapproved of- to always place his self-interests above all else, even the family. Though so far the two had always aligned, no turbulence yet. He saw no reason to go against the grain when everything was going so well for all of them. 

As Ambrose’s hand landed on his shoulder, Tybalt offered a false smile, leaning in slightly, for the sake of any prying eyes. Just a connection between father and son, why do ask? Though if you looked more closely, perhaps at the sharp upturn of his lips or the pointed look in his eye, one might sense something a bit more… sinister.  “Is there anyway,” He paused, choosing his words carefully, “I can help assure His Majesty’s comfort?” 

[sidheisms-blog]

Of all Ambrose’s endeavors. Of all his successes, his prizes, his collection of titles, Tybalt was high on the list. Which was far more than could be said of any other being outside of the Lord Gold himself. The only one who could’ve been remotely close would’ve been his Majesty’s former Jester. Such fun it had been to string that poor fellow along, to break him entirely. Not like Ambrose would his son, however. No, Tybalt was of his own flesh and blood, by his own design. There wasn’t a soul who could’ve made a better heir, a perfectly sharpened tool to carry out his will and eventually take over. It was that reason that he felt inclined to share His Majesty’s will with the boy. And, like any good son, Tybalt would serve him well.

The smile already plastered on Ambrose’s face the moment the first guest had arrived on their property widened just a fraction. The glint in his eye shone just a bit more pronounced. He’d truly been blessed to have at least one child to understand his trade, let alone embrace it. It was a blessing he was more than happy to take advantage of. “Identify the Ambassador, my boy,” he instructed in low tones. “Ensure that they are...comfortable.”

[sidheisms-blog]

Gala of Gold - O p e n

[the-golden-son-blog1]

sidheisms:

Violins blared, swelling to sweet crescendos over the soft murmur of conversation. The furniture, the food, even the silverware was primed to perfection, as to be expected of the Gold household. Any folk of title had been invited to the gala. Some, only out of courtesy, others the Lord of the house had a legitimate interest in conversing with. Still, others merely added to the scenery.

Ambrose Gold stood above his party guests, the finest of wines resting between his fingers. This was his domain, his home. Downing his glass, he addressed the small crowd of guests, offering a winning smile that only those closest to him could see as a falsity. “My dear honored guests, thank you for joining us this night. Please, enjoy yourself.” 

Funny how the man of Gold had a tongue of silver.

The glass of wine Tybalt held cast a burgundy light on the white tile. He polished away a stray smudge as the orchestra quieted under his father’s voice. The younger Gold’s eyes fluttered up from the light stained floor to watch how the crowd responded. It truly was amazing how people flocked towards sliver plated speeches. Once the responding cheer slipped underneath the swell of music, he stepped up to his father’s side. 

Words were easy for Tybalt, but when it came to his father they always stuck in his throat. He’d never admit it, but he couldn’t help but hesitate. “Anyone, in particular, we’re entertaining tonight?” He asked, resting his glass on the railing. There was always someone, or something, on the agenda when they threw one of these. Even if the point was to just to have everyone close. It was important to keep an eye on things. 

[sidheisms-blog]

Ambrose took his time, observing his guests as they turned back to themselves and their previous conversations. There wasn’t a soul that escaped his gaze, not a detail safe from his notice. It was a tedious practice, perfecting such a meticulous sweep in the time he took to complete it. A practice that was well worth the time put into it, however, as perfectly demonstrated by the fortune his family enjoyed this day.

If he gave any form of indication of recognizing his son’s presence, it would not be noticed by any old guest. Not initially, anyway. The slight incline of his head at the boy’s question was but a show he put on while he finished another sweep of the crowd. When he was finished, he turned, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. This action, like most of his, was but an act for any wandering eyes, though it was nowhere near as hollow as it would’ve been if it were someone else, like Lucretia, for example. “Ambassadors meant to have word with His Majesty,” he said it just as plainly as one would when talking about the weather, albeit far quieter. “His Majesty wants no surprises.”

[sidheisms-blog]

Can you really and truly keep a secret or is it just something you make people believe in? Like you make them trust you and think you do keep the secret but then you actually don't keep them, but they will never find it out?

The ghost of a smile beckons the corners of the Unseelie Lord’s mouth, almost as if the question is the setup to a joke only he would understand.

“There’s a funny thing about this trade.”

He leans back in his seat, immaculate hands gathering to rest on his knee as it raises to rest on the other. He keeps a tricky business, this man, managing some of the juiciest gossip, enough to make the tabloids both love and hate him. It was a trade requiring precision and cunning, in a combination only he had mastered.

“My business is run under the assumption that it’s all in confidence, yes. I cannot claim that absolutely nothing has accidentally slipped into the ears of very interested parties, however…”

He pauses, taking all the time he could possibly need, knowing full well that he could take much more if he so chose.

“While many think their secret could spell their ruin, some secrets simply aren’t worth the trouble of telling.”

[sidheisms-blog]

Gala of Gold - O p e n

Violins blared, swelling to sweet crescendos over the soft murmur of conversation. The furniture, the food, even the silverware was primed to perfection, as to be expected of the Gold household. Any folk of title had been invited to the gala. Some, only out of courtesy, others the Lord of the house had a legitimate interest in conversing with. Still, others merely added to the scenery.

Ambrose Gold stood above his party guests, the finest of wines resting between his fingers. This was his domain, his home. Downing his glass, he addressed the small crowd of guests, offering a winning smile that only those closest to him could see as a falsity. “My dear honored guests, thank you for joining us this night. Please, enjoy yourself.” 

Funny how the man of Gold had a tongue of silver.

[livingthegifs]

Hannibal: Antipasto

By: thejennire

✦Send your request [x]✦ / Tags [x]

[aurum-fatalis]

Tea and Tension || Lucretia, Robyn, and Ambrose

@robyn-moonsong @sidheisms

The clock ticked with a steady apprehension. The Moonsongs had said they would arrive at two. The golden hands on the grandfather clock indicated that there were only minutes until their entrance. And so Lucretia waited, wiping her hands on a black lace handkerchief that she stuffed away in the pocket of a simple black dress. Her father had supplied it and ensured that it was one of the most expensive he could find. Naturally, it showed off her curves as well. Better to flaunt the breeding stock with.

With a hand clutching the fresh fabric, Lucretia pushed open the heavy black doors to the garden. She was greeted with the exotic scents of Lord Gold’s personal array of plants, mostly poisonous. He had never been the gardening type, but he was certainly the type to show off his wealth. Lucretia strode through the labyrinth of paths until she reached the elaborate black chairs positioned around a table. A canopy of green and purple vines fell over the seating area, providing comfortable shade for Lord Gold and his small army of human and Hob servants tending to his every whim. “Don’t fret, I’m on time. Father,” Lucretia said, sitting beside him in one of the chairs. “Let’s see if they bother to do the same.”

[sidheisms-blog]

@aurum-fatalis | @robyn-moonsong

One should make no mistake in assuming the expenses Lord Gold put into his appearances. His home was in a perpetual state of cleanliness, appearing more like a dollhouse than an actual home. His children, however troublesome one may be, were well bred and well groomed (sometimes regardless of their willingness). Even the garden, an area Ambrose could scarcely bring himself to truly care for, was primed and groomed to perfection, a perfect setting for the two betrothed to meet and for more important wedding details to be arranged.

Seated in his little garden of sorts, Ambrose enjoyed the finer perks of his position as the Gold patriarch and an Unseelie Lord. A beverage, alcoholic and probably worth more than the lives of a handful of servants, gracing his palm, and servants at his beck and call, even he could admit the garden was a nice change from the office. Perhaps when the day came for Tybalt to take over as head of the family, the elder lord would frequent the plants more often. Mayhaps a visit to a beach would also be in order. Enough of that, though, there was work to be done. He offered Lucretia a simple nod in acknowledgment upon her approach. It seemed she was agreeable today, good. “Do play nice, child,” He said, sipping his drink. “We wouldn’t want to scare them away.” For the moment, he tolerated her less than polite comment. Should she ruin this engagement, however, and she would rue her words.

[the-way-im-feeling]

W.: “He knew exactly how to mount the body. Wound patterns are almost identical to Cassie Boyle. Same design, the same… humiliation”.

[268px] ©

[silasmud-deactivated20180106]

Here We Go Again|| Ambrose and Silas

@sidheisms

Silas wasn’t thrilled when he was told Lord Gold requested his presence. Well, that is to put it lightly. Silas’ mind had been somewhere else lately. He really hadn’t been feeling his usual self, his brainwashed assassin self that did what he was asked without putting much of a fight.

The manor’s walls blurred on his sight as Silas quickly moved towards the room where he knew his master would be waiting for him. He didn’t want to take too long and make him wait more than necessary. Something like that could only end badly for Silas.He opened the door and entered, closing it behind him as quietly as he could. “You wanted to see me, sir?” He asked in a hushed tone, avoiding looking directly into his master’s eyes by looking at everything but the other.

[sidheisms-blog]

There was a fine line Ambrose walked. Between having power, using it to its fullest potential, and abusing it. Such a man of his stature simply couldn’t afford the mere speculation that he could was abusing his power, that anything he did was not entirely within the law. That same rule didn’t apply to his pawns.

Speaking of pawns, he waited patiently for one of his finest to arrive. Silas had been in his grasps since youth, had served and would continue to serve well lest his own life be forfeit. The Lord Gold had no doubt his little assassin understood just how real a threat Gold would present should his needs be left unattended to. 

He did not have to wait long, Mud arriving perhaps minutes later than Ambrose would’ve liked. A bit of an annoyance, but not one so bad as to draw out the Lord’s wrath. “I did, yes,” he said from his desk. A folder rested on the polished wood, waiting to be taken. “The man detailed in this report,” he indicated the folder with a flick of the wrist. “Kill him.”

[robinfelldown]

beat inside me, leave you blind

{ @sidheisms }

Robin had been left to rot in his cell for a full night and day and a good half of the next night before he was graced with any visitors. Before this, he was treated like a dog, a cur on the streets. The guards spat at him and dropped his food on the floor, even when he was unresponsive, staring blankly at the wall as he tried to piece together the fog of his brain. He was sluggish and disoriented and remembered very little of the night, he believed, had happened before he awoke in the dungeons of Roheim. 

Robin had never thought he would be witnessing them from inside the bars.

The blonde faerie rolled his head against the brick wall he was leaned up against, sluggish still despite his best attempts at flushing his system of whatever had been done to him. Because something had been done to him, whether anyone believed him or not. He listened with half an ear as he stared at the nice, leather boots descending the stairs into his line of sight. It was only after a moment that he recognized those boots, why the sound of those steps was so familiar, and he was leaping at the bars, bony hands grabbing them in a vice-like grip and smiling like a loon.

“Am-Lord Gold.” The name had been a slip, a mistake, but he covered it easily, the title falling from his tongue just as quickly. They were in the company of others, after all, even if they were the men who had imprisoned him. “Finally a faerie who will listen. Please tell these men that I’ve not done the things they’re claiming I have. Get me out of here.” His voice was low, smooth, but there was a desperation hidden behind his smooth face and his wide eyes. 

He trusted that everything would be alright, now. Lord Gold would make it so. 

[sidheisms-blog]

There was a certain art in earning the undying trust of ones peers. There were very few who Lord Gold would truly consider his peers, yet he still put in the meticulous effort in developing that skill. He relished in the blind trust that was put in him, took every advantage it presented and used it for its full value. He treated his pawns well, of course, so long as they held value to him. Like a spider who courts the fly, he kept his allies as close as it was convenient.

The moment they were no longer convenient, however..

Bearing His Majesty’s approval, Lord Gold entered the prisons without so much as a syllable of protest. He dismissed guards as he went, there being no need for any but the bare minimum to play witness to the coming storm. The guards he did allow to remain were ones that he himself had researched and deemed apt for the coming deeds, ones that took obedience to another level. Oberon was king, the one who held all their leashes, but Ambrose held influence like a puppet master with his marionettes. A master of each joint, each string. This was the figure that met Robin in the dungeons, the Lord’s fine adornments a stark contrast to the grime of the cell.

His smirk, filled with a false warmth and almost pity, greeted the faerie that’d called him an ally. Robin had been a good pawn, really. It was almost sad to see him in this sorry state. Almost. Risking creasing his freshly pressed garb, he knelt to Puck’s level, a hand patting the skin and bones that grasped the bars. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he reassured he man.The physical contact was over just as quickly as it had begun, the man standing promptly, gesturing towards the guards he’d selected to remain. “Free him.”

Of course, he wasn’t really bargaining for Robin’s freedom. No, he’d been given a much more specific, darker, purpose. One that required a far more secluded setting. It was better, for now, that Robin remain in the dark, however.