The Queene and Her Ravager

[Ravager]

Rae:

It had been an unreasonable amount of time away from her home in Starhost and there was a kernel of rage that had built up in her because of that time away. She needed her Court, she needed the touch of other Sidhe and she knew there was no way that she could explain that to Julian in any fashion that he would understand. It was not sex, which he would think it was. But to be away from her Court was like keeping Julian away from the Sea, and she wished that she had the words to explain that to him. She knew that he would never make the choice which would allow him to truly stand at her side, and she would never ask him to do so, she loved him before she truly realized what she indeed was and she hated him that made her all the more for that. She would never ask another to change for her, as she would never truly change for another no matter how much she loved. Yet now she felt like she could breathe again as she walked the halls of Starhost, a distinctly elven castle that was home to two Courts, the Elven High Court that her other self's son Gil-galad reigned over for the land of Oreitheldarin, and her own Court of Blood and Thorns.

They stayed separate for the most part, both sides sharing the keep peaceably and Sularan helped to train the Grand Army of Oreitheldarin because she had asked him to. But here ... here she could finally relax and that state had a soft glow of light moving just under her skin, illuminating her as she walked the dark hallway. She wore a simple sheathe dress of royal blue that left her shoulders and arms bare save for a bracelet that wound round her wrist, her feet bare and her ankle length golden and diamond stranded mane was free of any braid and flowed around her like silk. Her tri-colored gold and amber eyes were half closed in contemplation as she walked, her attention to the floor a few feet in front of her rather than what might be sharing that hallway with her.


Talioun:

I walked the halls, as I was often wont to do during these late hours, mercifully bereft of those contemptuous Descendents of Faerun who thought themselves above those living within the walls of Starhost. Arrogant pricks, one and all, abhorrent to a fault when their glory was stripped from their glistening flesh and pointed ears -- as if they were anything other than a conglomeration of base sinew, veins, ligament, humours, and muscle tissues. Those of Narathameralsia were tolerable, yet even then I held my qualms over the scurrying, scampering lot, which by and large avoided the very radius of my company. All but Sarn held steadfast and personable audience where the stretch of my shadow dictated my presence - ask me if I would have it any other way? One can only tolerate a concourse of the blithering Elves, which permeate these glorious halls like so much ornate furniture, though I could not argue that one required a fine ottoman to rest one's feet atop when the weariness of ennui set in - nor a random boob to harass when entertainment was scarce at hand.

Many a night had I spent pondering when my Queene would grace the Courts with her resplendent beauty once again, when I could look upon that fair face of guileless majesty and see the twinkle in her glistening eyes. Imagine my surprise and sheer delight when I happened to traipse upon her wandering the selfsame halls that evening? I was, as ever, bedecked and embellished in Her favorite color, shades of gradating blue, from Cerulean Sky to a deep Cobalt, with hints of Indigo Midnight. Fetching remarks in silver couched silk thread reminiscent of shimmering fairy flames haunted the hems of my cuffs and the tailored waist of my velvet frockcoat. The white porcelain of my skin was luminous beneath the fatalistic glow of lamplight, moreso when I realized that it was, indeed, my Queene.

I could not help the joy from curling the corners of ruby lips when she nearly stepped directly into my person, and I murmured with a voice like raw silk, "The Gods have blest me this very evening, forsoothe. And what Deity would I thank for granting me mine very wish that I might die an Immortal's death in happiness at sharing the company of my Immaculate Queene of Compassion?"


Rae:

Her voice was liked warmed honey, rising up from her rose lips to curl around him much the way the shadows might caress his form. She was well pleased at seeing him as perhaps few others save Sarn might ever be, despite his darkness he was true to himself and that was often such a rare thing.
"Ah ... mo contúirt."

She looked up then, she was petite in her height by Sidhe standards but that leant her a touch more exoticness, or so she had been told. She seemed delicate but he had seen her duel and knew well that there was hidden strength in those slender limbs. The gold rings of her tri-colored eyes flashed with a bit of light and turned molten, the amber clear and warm as well, those eyes so unlike anything seen in Faerie. A hand lifted and she stroked a strand of her hair back behind one perfect ear, and then that self-same hand moved to lay the ghost of fingertips to his cheek. She alone had ever touched him without fear, without lust, just that hint of untainted wonder. He was a Sadist of the very first order, and he was darker than even most of the Sluagh that followed her, his smile was enough to make one of her Cwn Annwn hounds to cringe in apprehension, yet she simply allowed the corners of her rose lips to quirk in a slowly forming smile of pleasure.

"My Ravager, I am pleased. It is good to be home, with such a welcome waiting here for me."


Talioun:

"If your homecoming had been presaged by the scryers, I would have showered them in gilt roses of gold or silver," I murmured, cupping her tiny hand within the black satin of my gloved fist, "Your very touch is a decadence I have long since denied myself, Empyreal Mistress; to look upon your beauty now is a draught from a well which pierces the virgin earth and bubbles with a purity like the lifeblood of Gaia. If only I had known, your homecoming would have been a gala to truly regale opposing Courts into fits of outraged jealousy and righteous contempt. Prithee, what brings you to Starhost, Trocaire of the Infinite Veil?"

For her, alone, my veneration was spared. For Jausserande, the cruel lashing of my tongue curled with imposing and fervid admission toward her scintillating beauty. Her touch was comparable to the proper kiss of a stinging, salt soaked bullwhip against the shredded, raw flesh of a true masochist: it was never enough. I would have undoubtedly poured her flesh over mine, were it not for those sacred oathes in place - I would not breech that contract, nor would I contaminate that sacrosanct ceremony with currish reprisal against Julian. His very name would have conjured a sneer upon my lips, yet I would admonish myself best to obscure my anger as any Sidhe in full control of his proper senses.

"Come, before any would seek to allege that they hold precedence over my humble identity," a single brush of petulant lips graced her palm, warming it with the heat of my breath before I offered the crook of my arm toward her. There were rooms aplenty for us to seek out privacy, and that was selfishly what I would have deigned to enjoy over all else in that moment.


Rae:

"Gilt roses ..." A delicate murmur of words, pleased in tone that he would speak thus with her. She knew well the lash of his tongue and wit for she had seen it used against those that treated with him in foolish fashion, and his wit kept her often able to smile when in other times she might have flown into a semi-rage. Generally this was when those of other Courts came to call, seeking to open up relations when she did not truly wish them. Her Court was fine as it was and she had taken in many that had never had place in those other Courts, so why would she want contact with those that might seek to hurt those that were *hers*? The worst of those times had been when Seelie of the Crystal Luminous Court had come, Sunset had been from there and the comments slid her direction had put her in a near killing rage ... until of course a certain Sidhe who even now kissed her palm took care of the issue for her.

"I come because ..." A moment's hesitation, she often confided her feelings with the Sidhe closest to her, but that did not mean she wanted other, lesser ears to overhear her little confessions. She looked down the corridor as her slim arm raised to let her hand rest upon his offered arm, letting him take them out of the view of the shadows and the whispered regrets she heard from their depths.

It was clear that someone watched but it was often so, if one did not want watchers one sought privacy as they now did so. As the door would close behind them a breath was released, and the scent of apple and rose drifted from her hair.

"I needed to be with thee, I needed to be with my Sidhe, those I know who will never betray me."

Such a simple confession but as always she told the absolute truth. As a Sidhe she could not lie unless she wished to be forsworn, doubly so because she was a Queene. Yet even so she would not lie to those that gave to her, as the one before her did. No matter his reasoning or nature, he was her own. Light rose up in her skin with a bit more insistence, she was with another Sidhe and power called to power, though she would restrain herself. Like called to like, but she would never do two things. She would never use her high level of glamour on another Sidhe, and she would never pour her light through one that did not wish it so. It was a purely Sidhe thing, intimate beyond belief, and it was something that should be wanted. [d]


Talioun:

"Sun or Moon, I shall ever be beside you; all else would find such folly in disdaining your company. I daren't speak in place of certain individuals, but for those who are True, we should be d**ned with a quick death bereft of fitting anguish and ardorous agony if ever there came a time it should be any other way. We wait in the wings, so to speak, to catch your hand when you require our utmost support - you have but to speak the words into the surface of glass or a stained blade, and we should fly to you like the Call to Hunt. Sarn sulks for you in manners to which I cannot describe, and we both envy Macha nic Dian for her ubiquitary station within your circumference. The Court is a shapeless ghost without its Body."

With an indolent air, my regrets carefully ensconced, I shifted from her side - and only with as much time allotted to pursue my endeavor - to pour her a cup of fresh coffee. It was an order I required of all servants that if ever there was a room not fitted with a pitcher of the hot libation absent or gone stale, Gods forbid - burned -, they would be greeted with a flogging most memorable. Only the finest of porcelain China was made available to my Queene's fingertips, offered thusly upon one knee as I knelt before her with reverence. Oh, and how those deplorable souls would have liked to bear witness to my heartfelt humility - but such ceremony was reserved for Her, and only Her. I would gladly serve as such - anything to see the smile to replace the sorrow she must have felt.

My chest swelled with indignance at the thought that Others must have negotiated her weal with immodest entreaty for her heart to earn such longing, yet I denied even that personal enquiry. What she required now was not my abasement of inadequate scoundrels, but an ear to hear her and a gentling touch to soothe. The Sidhe in me surged in restrained crescendo despite my best intentions, distending in threat to rise up and pour out through my skin like a starved wolf scenting prey. I managed - just barely, though I could taste the appellation of apple and rose upon my palate even then, and my flesh must have flushed - if only mildly - with the brush of the Moon's light.


Rae:

His words made her smile rise, from gentle if a bit sad towards a sunlit radiance, that beauty that made so many think upon seeing her that she could be nothing but Seelie, with her fair features and palest moonlight skin. Yet in her eyes which seemed to be made of gold and amber of purest kind there was that strength of spirit and determination that Seelie often lacked and tried to replace with disdain and arrogance to prove themselves better than others in Faerie.

Of them all that had come only a very select few had guessed what her true nature was before she revealed it, and it was said that those were her favored ones above all the rest of the Court, whose council she sought and whose company she cherished the most, allowed them the most time with her. So it was that it must be obvious just who her favored ones were, at least to those that watched.

"There will come a time, when I may call thee in both ways to Hunt. I feel that time coming like a shadow on my mind, yet I have had no True Dreaming of it, tis just a feeling."

She accepted the coffee with a graceful nod of her head, to show him exactly how much she appreciated his treatment of her, and knowing it for exactly how rare and priceless it truly was she gave him a gift for his ceremony, a sip of the coffee taken and she would turn the cup so that she could offer him the drink from her own cup and from the place her lips had touched. How could another know the grace of her movements and understand the meaning of them? Certainly it was rare enough that she would even have these moments to spend with those of her Court alone, and so she would always endeavor in each instance to give them of herself.


Talioun:

"And I would hearten your appeal with requited adulation and amour propre to rise to the honor of such an occasion," the mention of such a feeling drew a second question upon the ebony of my brows, an expression which slipped my careful composure. Yet there were safer waters to navigate without being so crude as to ask personal enquiry outright, and my mouth formed the words with wary care to resolve insult.

"If it were a precognitive impression upon your behalf, I should think of no better reason than to return Home, where those whom serve you best dwell in anticipatory affection to attend."

The sadness which lie restively upon her lips was compelling, as was the hand which offered the bless'd vessel toward me. The cup was accepted with both my hands, which cradled the frangible item as if it were laved in precious metal to lift the rim to my own mouth. The perfume of her essence prevailed, as if the mark of her moue consecrated its very surface - I cherished the moment, abstaining from the urge to pass my tongue over the trace remnant of her saliva. Modesty fails me at the worst moments in Her presence, however, and I confess I could not restrain myself from delicately suckling the rim a moment longer than I ought to have before surrendering the cup back to her.

"Speaking of dreams: I feel as if this is a dream, that you have returned to us - a pinch from thine fingers might be enough to wake me," within the privacy of protective walls, I did tease her graciously, dauntless in my appreciative affection while we resided in relative sanctuary. She would allow me that much pliancy, at least, beyond the curious eyes of The Court - the rumors flew as they ever did, yet they bore no truth without evidence.

"Yet, if you were to leave us again, it would be as if I were forced back unto a most bedimmed cell, left to pace the bars of my cage once more."


Rae:

"When I speak of the dream, I give thee my word that thee shall be there."

A promise that she intended to fully keep despite how some of her Court still reacted to him. It did not bother her that they feared him, because fear in a Sidhe could lead them to act with better prudence than was often the wont of those born and knowing immortality. Being immortal could lead to extremely foolish acts and displeasure all around at the consequences of those acts. Her court was thankfully for the most part free of those that would act as if the world owed them its riches on a plate simply because they lived, and she believed that part of that lay with the caliber of those that served her of their own free will. That other Courts refused or reviled what she took to her bosom was their loss entirely in her mind.

Her eyes took in his responses to her gift and she was pleased, and did not make note of how his lips had lingered that moment longer. Taking the cup back she sighed with pleasure at another sip, the coffee was fine and exactly how she preferred it. A sparkle grew in her eyes at his gracious tease, a curl of her lips at the rim of her delicate cup and she let her bottom lip rest there just a moment, ripe in its rose fullness.

"I have done thee an injustice then, by leaving thee thus. It was not supposed to be this way, that I would be away from my Court so very long. I would never send mo contúirt to such a prisoned place without an equivalent reward. Name what thy wish is ... "


And then she whispered his true name low enough that only his ears would hear it in those warmed honey tones. She well knew the power of Names, and how it could rock one to hear a Name spoken properly. How often did she miss the lack of her full name for its length, and settled merely for Rae?


Talioun:

"And by your word, I shall ardently swear my hands to your service with abject repleteness and ample gratiae that you should be hardpressed to find dissatisfaction."

For Her gracious compassion, for Her mercy, I would have willingly bled out the contents of my very Immortal soul upon the ground at Her feet. The injury of disservice others had shown me time and time again, countless centuries, was an unremarkable scar against my dignity when the golden glow of her ethereal visage touched upon my attentions. She was bewitching, simply divine in all ways imaginable, though supercilious rival Courts would banter scandalous insults and discourteous discourse while beyond the perception of her ears. I certainly did not consider their vehement aspersion of my very presence to be particularly damaging, not after my skin had grown so thick to defamation and derogation - yet I would not stand for them to sully or besmirch my Queene's honor.

When next she spoke, I was taken aback - the vague disbelief and awe presiding upon my countenance registering perforce. At first, I imagined that I had not properly parsed the constituents of her elocution, yet, the sound of my True Name rippled like a cresting wave building force through my body. I could count the number of times one had ever used my Name upon both bloodstained hands - and never in such affable audience. The effect - for without a doubt, the affect it had upon me redoubled with an array of sensations best left to the imagination - was nothing short of inspiring. What could I possibly ask of my Queene? Her offer clung to my mind like the very viscid nectar it resembled, and my mind reeled with a myriad of unquenchable dereliction of possibilities, some of which might have brought an end to my existence. I dared not ask my heart's desire.

"Not injustice, no. Never. I would abide by time and impatiently await the days between. My Fair Queene is worth such sufferance, I would endure them willingly without respite if it meant knowing She would return to grace me with Her smile," but to outright abjure her offer may have earned her scorn, which was something I would never seek on my blackest of days, despite my initial assuagement. "To see Her smile genuine and true - to chase the lingering sorrow from her mind, and remove the doubt that chews at the fringes of her mind, if only for a short while. I would not aspire to be so bold as to overstep the meridian of unsolicited engagements, so I would look to You, Trua, for guidance in an appropriate direction. What of I, at this moment, would bring that smile to fruition?"

[Ravager]

Rae:

Amazingly she did smile at his words, though it was not quite the smile he wished, not yet. A twinkle of sheer unbridled glee rose up in her eyes, a hint of pleasure at his speech to her, in his restraint tempered yet with something he held hidden within. So her voice came again, her eyes going half-closed in what seemed to be anticipation.

"Would thee then give me a gift in place of mine tae thee? Well, so be it then, mo contúirt . If thee would truly wish to see my smile give back to me what I have given to thee. Give unto me the sound of my Name upon thy lips. Give that to me, and I will count myself well pleased, well pleased indeed."

She leaned just that touch closer, it was not a matter of personal space because between two Sidhe at their ease with each other was there ever such a thing? Though it was true that perhaps there were some that might grow jealous at her scrutiny of him, of her expectant look, the vibrant longing that had swept through her. Such a simple request, because it were not just the case that she was rarely called anything but Rae or My Queene. She loved to hear the sound of her name from those that it would mean something from, and she knew that here was one of those, no matter that it would be like unto darkness speaking her name in his tones, and evil or not, Sadist or not, he held her respect as well as she held his devotions.


Talioun:

The smile I had won already was a small victory unto itself, my pride swelled as if I had bested a bear with nothing but the claws upon my fingers and the brutal strength in my own hands. It was then with those very hands that I so eloquently stretched the satin swathed digits to reach for those sculpted cheeks, cupping them as intimately as any lover might. The distance between us was breeched, then, crossed as slowly as a lone wanderer might traverse the desert with endless dunes - wandering with pitiable and desperate slowness toward some hazy oasis beyond the dunes. To arrive there was sheer awakening bliss, to drink in the scent of Her flesh and hair was a balm to soothe the soreness of my parched senses. The air hissed between the pointed tips of my sharp Sidhe teeth as I inhaled Her perfume and veritably gasped for breath enough to summon her Name. My mouth lay so very near, so very dear, to the nubile flesh of her lightly pointed ear, I could stretch the scarlet muscle of my tongue out to taste it.

"Jau - sser - ande," I exhaled with wicked inflection, drawing out the syllables of her True Name as if it were redolent smoke pluming from my lips. I spoke it again, with languor so that she might savor the exotic flavor of it, enjoy the tingling roll of power penetrating her aural senses. I did not require Glamour to pour forth the darkness promised there, "Jausserande Niahshay."

The undertaking was anything but facile, the execution beyond reproach. The Sidhe in me yearned to appease her, to vanquish the shadows hovering across her bright soul and reconstitute it with my own smoldering black, burning brand of oblivion. When I sensed the yielding of her muscles, the touch upon her skin coerced her moonkissed brow to hover just before my own deathly pale skin. Like a sweeping wave of midnight ribbons, the aphotic silk of my hair curtained the room from view, caressing dulcet features and veiling them in a funereal affair.

"Jausserande. Niahshay. Narathameralsia," I teased her full name off the tip of my tongue, allowing the letters to roll from it almost playfully, the lift in intonation curling my lips into an inevitable smile. When I thought I had incontrovertibly fulfilled my Queene's request, and only then, did I slowly reel myself backward to behold the conclusion.

Even as Vixen was the consummate Seductress, I was the inimitable Sadist. I have rendered stalwart Fey into so much bloodied bone and gristle, cajoling and seducing them with such captivating promises. Sometimes they begged me, plead for me to take them in incomprehensible manners that would sound morbid to casual eavesdroppers. The torture therein lie in patient denial, and I would not dispute that I took unsurpassed delectation in tormenting Her then. Had She asked for more, I would have assented, but I digress - what could possibly be more endearing than watching one's own Fair Majesty skirting an alluring hazard? I had been called a bastard for less, certainly.


Rae:

A sweet shiver came over her at the very first syllable, and it was sweet because it was her own, it was Her Name. Of all that could speak it with the proper tones, only a handful had ever been able to elicit the reaction she had now. Into her heart there was a flood of relief, to know that she was known and properly so. It haunted her now more than ever that the Other walked the realms, that small voice that sometimes in the darkness made her question her very self.


But then like the gift it was there would come one that could say her name like this and make her believe it, and all was once more right again. When he moved those gloved hands to tip her head just so the rich curtain of night that was his hair swept her features with a gentle touch and she felt her nostrils flare, felt her breath drawn in deep to take in that singular scent of his that belonged to none other. Branded to her senses he was then like so very few others and she would always now be able to find him even in a crowded audience hall, his sight unseen but presence known. Of all her Sidhe there were only four that she knew this intimately, Prince Sularan, Prince Sindhur her cousin now in truth and magic instead of pretense of blood, Macha nic Dian, and now Talioun that she called Ravager.

Prince Sularan would absolutely hate that if he knew. Yet it did not stop the stunning smile that came upon her fair features, her lips curved just in that perfect bow and it was a True smile and made her eyes literally glow with light, softest amber and vibrant molten gold. An incline of her head that might seem shy from another but was fetching with her leant a softer look to her features and she raised her hand to catch the tips of his hair as he drew back, letting that soft anthracite colored silk flow through her fingers.

"I am well pleased."

And with that touch of his hair sliding through her hands there came a soft curl of the light below her skin, her very power also giving that briefest of caresses, nothing that he might reject, yet less than the slightest taste of what could pour from her like life from the fountain of nature.


Talioun:

"A Bhantiarna le Trua is Trócaire, mo Jausserande," I whispered softly as I felt my own power rising like the icy winter ocean in a wave of magic which threatened to crash over the jetty of my self-control if I did not keep myself in check. I subdued the swelling tide within the clenching fist of my steel will, allowing but a small parcel to upsurge and greet Her own in a gentle, lapping breaker like semi-aqueous silver. It pressed against the rich, golden glow to intertwine with brevity, lingering for the seconds between the beating of our Immortal hearts before I willfully submerged it beneath the layers of azure I had donned. Blue was her favored color, not nearly enough of the Court wore it to earn her favor, but I shrouded myself in it nearly every waking moment in anticipatory fashion with an almost naive hope housed within my body that She might return to us and be pleased. Even my own personal, private quarters lay bedecked and swathed in the hue She adored, accentuated with complimentary shades of grey, silver, and obsidian - a veritable Church of Worship dedicated to my Queene, that I might be nearer to Her when I slept and woke to greet the next day.

Some - no, many - did not fully grasp or comprehend why I worshipped and served our Queene as I did. If only they had but an inkling of the wretchedness I had come from, the abject penury of constant and continual deprecation, debasement, and mistreatment, stemming from misappropriated fear, intimidation, and loathing. Even within the Unseelie Courts, some viewed my preference toward sheer Sadism as perverse - they could not fathom nor appreciate the fine pre-eminence of the champagne which is pure, unadulterated pain. I went from Court to Court, wandering the outskirts like some malnourished, feral beast seeking shelter in the shallowest of caves while the culmination of my talents atrophied from lack of use like a muscle left to waste. Eventually my patience wore thin and my time spent at my last Court was cut hazardously short when I ended the Prince's, the last heir to the throne, life. My own life would have, in most circumstances, been forfeit, but as ever in Sidhe tradition, even the King and Queen were required to condignly spare my life under oath or be foresworn and cross the welcome-mat of exile.

Jausserande Niahshay Narathameralsia was the only one who granted me true benefaction and viewed my humble entity as an asset, rather than a blight upon the Courts. I would seek to forget the title of Feybane, a most offensive title which others whispered behind my back; the past is behind me now and I move forward, though admittedly, there is a certain pride to be savored in having joined the aggregate of boogeyman tales Fey whisper to their younglings. My black heart swelled with such pride upon receiving the name of Ravager, I could not have hoped to have discovered such a paradisiacal dream in which my true talents would be exercised and acknowledged - to be set free upon wings of my own to soar through the empyrean evening's sky. It was Her, my Queene, which I had to thank for this.

The reminiscence must have shown in my eyes, the distance which transported me back to my days of squalor, but for the cherished sensation of her fingers sliding through the swarthy black ribbons of my hair. I should have liked to pour its length over Her, to veil Her in its depthless abyss and drown out the vibrant life - to witness the gape of Her lovely, compassionate mouth gasping for air as I raped the breath from her lungs and crushed the agonized undulation of her limbs beneath the weight of my body. There is distinct benefit to being Immortal, we cannot die as mortals perish...

"It does me such pleasure to witness your smile, you cannot know," spake the consummate Sadist as I visualized the scarlet of her blood spilling over such pristine flesh, drawing the curved tip of my nail across the swan-like length of her throat and chased the pink furrow with a fingertip.

"Ahh, but prithee, Jausserande of the Fair Moon's Light, tell your Ravager what else has elapsed beyond Starhost, if it postures no dispiritedness?"

Rae:

She gave it some thought, it was certain as that light of thinking came into her eyes. She had relinquished her initial hold on his tresses, and while she showed no outward sign of it besides the added warmth of her natural Sidhe glow as her light moved under her skin, that brief caress of his power to hers had nearly undone her pretense of separation, even that brief feeling of the power of another Sidhe to her own had made her want to simply pour her own out into him until it washed out of his darkness, until it overwhelmed his ebon-souled form to spiral out and touch the rest of her Court. Even as he thought of her in the way that would pleasure him most she thought of that, of how he might react to be the receptive vessel of her light.

There had not been the question of whether he might desire this, she had noticed his adoption of her most beloved blue and if he had done so to gain her favor it along with his very self had done just that. She noticed the things done to please her no matter who was the Sidhe that did them, and she could not help that tiny surge within of joy that someone as dark as Her Ravager would spend even a single moment on thought to please her.

For truly just as they were Hers, she was Theirs, this shining Court so much more beautiful to her than any Seelie Court she had been allowed glimpse into. She chose her words carefully, she had learned not to make overmuch fuss if she had discontent because a slight mention in passing of dislike could have someone ending a life to assuage her annoyance. That thought made a tiny smile play on her lips, a tiny smile that so few had ever been witness to. Here was the fully Sidhe Queene, there was not a hint of the Elf there in that smile despite that shred of Soul that she still held within her.

"There are rumors running rampant in RoseHaven ..."


How very alliterative that statement was, flowing across her tongue and sharp white teeth.
"A former Brotherhood of Darkness Commander has made her home in the Ivory Ward. I am not sure just how I feel about this. Other rumors as well, that in that self-same Ward that a certain Elf has been seen walking about, and I do not like these rumors."


Talioun:

How many nights had I spent raised up like a cobra ready to strike over a random Fey beauty with spun gold for hair like my Queene? Fantasizing that fair, immaculate face reconstituted for the homely - for most Sidhe beauty paled in comparison - loveliness which I so oft dedicated my pursuit of unearthly pleasures amongst? The Court knew well and recognized my preference, my penchant, for sadism, even mo Trua, who gracefully overlooked such behavior and only encouraged that which was truly me. To be true unto myself. In a way, the Court was relieved that I would take none of their women to my bed for fear that I would procreate and bring forth a child and bequeath upon it the everlasting darkness of my personal habits and delights. I could not fault them for that, either - one of myself was all my Queene required, if there were another fostered in mine image, I might query my importance later. The green-eyed Jealousy did haunt me, on occasion - on very rare occasion.

"Ah, let us not speak her name, Trua, if it would erase that precious smile from thing lips," to each side of her tender mouth, I touched either thumb with a gentleness like a moth's fluttering wings, "I have heard of these rumors, yet perhaps it would be wise to consider spearheading the source itself and discover for once and all if it bears any weight? What would alleviate your conscience and eradicate the plague of discontentedness from your mind?"

My hands dared not voyage with trepidation further than they already had, even as I almost desperately searched for those permissive signs. She was my Queene, Julian, my King, and therein lay such stringent boundaries which even I would not cross. Imminent death I did not fear - execution, no, but the very thought of being away from Jausserande's side was unendurable. To keep my idle hands from betraying my contentious emotional fortitude, I stretched the length of my body out across one of the velvet divans with the languor possess'd of a cathshee. It was a talent I had honed enduring years of Courtly (dis)service - appearing completely and deceptively lax, benign, despite the roiling coil of displeasure curling through my body. At this vantage point, I could view Her at my leisure, and perhaps I even believed that the bodily separation would cause my disastrous, dastardly ardor to dissolve. If only that were true. If only that could be true.

[Ravager]

Rae:

"Her name ..." A tiny fierce growl came and went, that touch of viciousness that made her so utterly Unseelie when to look at her a fey might think only that she was too beautiful to be other than Seelie. That would have made her snort to hear, within her Court there were Sidhe of both kinds and they were all beautiful to her, far more beautiful than those that filled other places.

They were beautiful because they were hers. "It is my name ... or I would not feel the True power of it ... yet there is something missing."

She had never admitted that to another, not even Julian. She knew the Elf's soul name, that secret name that Elves had beyond the name of their birth. While she knew it and had even heard it spoken to her, it was not the way she thought it would be. Perhaps then that way lie a mystery? To find what *her* own inner name was, since part of her soul was Elven, and part was Sidhe? Did she need that? She did not have reverie, so perhaps she did not need that strange secret name either.

A tiny rebellious part of her also questioned if she needed that stolen shred of Elven soul any longer as well. But then ... who would she be, if she did not have that one last small claim to being Jausserande?

The touch of his skin still haunted her own, a hand lifted idly to touch where one gloved hand had laid a thumb next to her mouth, as if she sealed that touch there for later examination. It was true that she was held sacred and apart because she had married Julian and they had been fertile, though it had been before she had truly known what she was. In that time which Julian had been presumed dead, Sularan ... he had shown her just what she had been lacking, those things that only another Sidhe could share with her.

So while she was loyal to her husband and Julian treated like a King by her Court though he would never take up the responsibility or care to learn about what it meant to be a Sidhe, there was always that knowledge that she was missing a part of her very essence by not sharing her light with those that could reciprocate.

Julian was He Who Must Never Be Touched, she named him that before her very Court so they would know her wrath if he were to be injured by the hand of one of her own. Yet she knew that there were a few who waited, waited for the day his mortal blood would fail him and she would be free.

Was her Ravager such a one? Perhaps. But she would never ask him, she accepted him as he was, whether he desired her or no. Drawing up a strand of her own golden and diamond stranded locks, she toyed with it, swinging it back and forth much like a cat would.

"I do not know if it is wise to be in close contact with her. At least for myself. I do not fear her ... she cannot take what truly matters to me."

An almost angelic smile came to her mouth then, a sidelong glance from those amber and molten golden tri-colored eyes to where he lay at a languid leisure though she could almost sense the tension he thrummed with.

"What say thee to that, mo contúirt?"

Talioun:

I might have laughed at the spouting of her fierce little growl if I had not caught myself, training my disobedient mouth into a dreadfully thin, straight line of undecipherable emotion. She might have thought I laughed at Her, rather than paying compliment to her violent derision when it surfaced so suddenly, as if an unintended non sequitur. There were few whom had personally paid audience to my Queene when she was truly and thoroughly riled. With all honesty, I preferred it that way - I savored it like a connoisseur might a delectable and cherished vintage of wine. I would have nurtured that seed of anger into a fell, fatal blossom of rampant and unrestrained violence if I could have, but I loved the Light in her as much as I did the Darkness within myself. I would not corrupt that if it meant losing Jausserande True.

"Something missing, you say?" I murmured lowly, intoning vehemence of my own making into the heady thingytail being stirred through ice before the libation was poured. I could see the silent struggle in Her, the candid deliberation and sorting of compiled thoughts, even as she teased the trail of her tresses against the bathing illumination of the room. Faithful to my demeanor, my sleek form redoubled to spill forward onto my belly with one satin-sheathed fist propped beneath my chin. Nonchalance was an easy air to afford as my unoccupied hand stretched forth to bat at the wriggling strands where they shimmered against the ambiance of our surroundings.

"My Queene Fair teases me, see how unsuitably kittenish Her Ravager has become," my jaw worked in conjunction with the timbre of my bassy voice almost playfully, unintentionally, yet perhaps it would draw the smile back to Her lips. The argent silver and slate grey of my eyes glinted and flared with the light refracted, while the darker onyx about the exterior thinned as I rolled them upward to caress Her beauteous countenance with my eyes.

"If you do not wish to have a hand in dealing with her, send one of us in your stead; we shall only bring her as close as required, if that is your wish. If it is not your desire, then one of us would certainly be indebted to your graciousness to execute any other whim which our Banríon le Trua might desire. You know best of all that we humble identities live to serve as limb, eye, or ears - long have few of us anticipated either the chance to reauthenticate our loyalty or facilitate any manner of activity conducive to not lingering in Court remaining stagnant."

I confess I spent many evenings silently cursing the thought of our King, though I made my true feelings known to none - even my trusted Nightbird, who was perhaps the only Sidhe I considered nearer to me than Sarn. One certainty I was contented by was the fact that Julian was mortal, and therefore subject to any number of contagious diseases, inadvertent accidents, or tragic incidents. None of The Court dared so much as pluck a hair from his head for fear of calamitous reproof from our Queene, yet mortals had a misfortunate and highly incidental habit - much to my glee - of dying without forewarning. They did not choose to die, to Fade, as we did. I had decades to wait patiently with folded Hands till that day arrived, counting the days like so many letters printed upon the parchment of his eulogy.


Rae:

She gave it serious thought, the play of her emotions over her face was remarkably open at that moment, and he would know on some instinctive level that she trusted him or he would never have been able to watch her that way, to be able to see her emotions as her thoughts refused to let her order them in any true fashion.

It unnerved her that she could not decide and quickly what she wanted done, was it that she feared the results of hasty action that her heart might cry out for? Would slaying the source of her discontent in this instance prove fatal to her as well, because of that shared shred of soul? No! She had her own soul now and it was strong and Sidhe, she would survive the death of the Elf, she was certain, though it might indeed pull away that sliver of soul that let her believe her name was Jausserande.

Would that then be such a bad thing, other than to create within her a sudden need for a new name? What then would it be like to have a new name for her Ravager to whisper to her? What would all those that knew her as Rae feel about such a thing? It was hard to say, hard indeed. Yet a thought worthy to be pondered and perhaps at a later time shared.

"I would have her watched. I do not wish to see her with my own eyes, at least not yet... "

A small smile graced rose lips.

"Who would thee think would do this for me?"


Talioun:


With much abstract interest, I watched the myriad of emotions shifting over the moon-pale landscape of my Queene's visage one after the other, some more amusing than others. While I was imbued with faith that She was fully capable and proficient at articulating commands to best serve her Court, these fragile, frangible matters of personal heart were another fare all together. Even with her intellect, She sought out counsel occasionally, and I was flattered and enriched with felicity that She thought to seek my wisdom. There was a pregnant silence shared between us as I contemplated over whom would be best suited for the task at hand. Subterfuge was the game of the evening, and among us, there were several players - all of whom were well qualified for the challenge.

As my shoulders grew tired of assuming a prolonged strain upon them, I eased casually into a supine position, carefully lowering my dark crown of obsidian till all of my hair spilled in an inky waterfall over the edge of the couch. With more courage than other Sidhe bore, I pilfered the metallic strand of hair from Her very fingers, recognizing her attention attenuated by meditation over Her concerns.

"Something unassuming and naive for the eye, with a sweetness to the tongue, and supple softness to deceive the touch," I whispered with indolence, placing the moonlit sunshine of her hair between my lips so she might feel the vibration of my words to the very follicle. "Something virulent to assay from the shadows unseen, to skulk through the darkness and be your ever-watchful eyes. Therefore: Char, I envisage, would be well suited for this undertaking - as well, who would bear mistrust of Sunset, with her delightful whimsy and charms?"

Unintentionally, my lips curled away from the pointed tips of my teeth as I spoke of Sunset, whose very light might have caused me to squint from the brightness she sometimes emanated. Char, while incorrigible, could be counted on for completing imposed assignments to satisfaction. Nay, both were particularly appropriate where obfuscation and espionage were concerned, and I gazed once more upon Jausserande to judge her conclusion.

Rae:

A bare murmur of words, a smallest parting of her rose lips and Rae smiled at him once more.


"Wise choices, these. I am sure that Char will be remarkable in his task, considering that if he fails I will give him tae thee for a week."

It was a gift for him, a sure sign of her favor that she would offer him the opportunity to teach another Sidhe the error of his ways. It might also lead into the unspoken territory that somewhere along the line Char had irritated her in some fashion. But gift it was for him to accept or refuse as he so chose. She closed her eyes for a moment to better experience the sensation that traveled her strand of hair, the diamond hairs in it gleaming in the low light of the room.

"Sunset is an ideal choice. I believe that she will also benefit from her time in RoseHaven."

Sunset had been one of her damaged ones, treated so ill in her prior Court through no fault of her own save that somewhere in her distant family background there had been blood other than pure Sidhe, though to look at her was to see nothing but a lovely Seelie creature. It had sickened Rae to hear from her lips the things said to her, to the point that she was actually considering placing a sort of Bounty on the heads of a few nobles from that Court.

She was always so very protective of the members of her Court, those that gave themselves to her were assured of her fierce protectiveness. Rae would not hesitate to kill someone that hurt one of hers, even if that hurt lay in the past.


Elves were well known to keep past grievances fresh via reverie, but Sidhe did not seem to need that dream state to recall slights and injuries. She wondered if the male noble before her, so relaxing in his seeming with her ever let the past smash over him and drown him in the dark of it. She knew what they had called him in the past, how often his name was spoken in the same tone of fear that they used speaking the title of her Grand Nephew ... him, they would not even speak his true name among the many Sidhe Courts, and he had a fine and presentable name, but they all called him The Hunter, the leader of the Wild Hunt.

It hardly seemed fair to her. Yet it was as it was, and she smiled again to her Ravager.

Talioun:

There was a moment in which I considered this potential gift with silent adulation, though the postulation shown through my attempted mask of solemn rumination. The ruby contours of my lips edged ever upward at the corners despite my best intentions gone horribly awry, a breathy chuckle escaping them to tremble along the filament of precious metal.

I was more pleased than She knew, but I sighed softly at the last, "If he fails, the week shall feel like years - if anything, he shall travail harder still to please you. Of this much, I am certain. And, of course, if You wished to visit with us - should he fall into my hands - my Queene would be most cordially and honorably invited."

My tongue curled about the sleek fiber housed between the blood-stained bow of my mouth, suckling as if I could verily pull nourishment from its very composition. As Her eyes closed and assent where Sunset was concerned was granted, I lifted one hand upward to ply the line of her jaw with the barest of caresses. It was the tiniest glancing sweep as I carelessly conceded to a simple pleasure of mine, sweeping my gloved hand through the incandescent hair which had captivated me for years. I pulled its length across my nostrils to inhale Her sweet perfume, which haunted my dreams, even as those phantoms which lingered about me always. The clutch of my curs'd digits loosened, should She choose to retract the blessing of those sacred tresses, though a part of me hazarded a supposition that She would not.

They were the undeparted souls of those which I had condemned to an untimely demise in past Courts, the victims of duels. It was another reason the Sidhe sought to avoid me, whether they recognized the very source of the eerie ambiance which encompassed my presence or nought. Unable to move on, I had made it clear to those wispy, intangible creatures of the Veil that I was unable to aid them in passing. They remained to provide me insight in certain circumstances, furbished me with rumors or viable contraband which I might have not been privy to otherwise. I was no necromancer, I could no longer harm them as I had when they walked the world, yet not all of them haunted me out of spite, neither.

"Jausserande," I invoked her name once more with a lascivious, yet reverent, twist of my scarlet muscle, "I beseech you, speak your mind?"

It was an invitation for Her to ask what she desired of me freely, permissively, without reproach or capitulation of my seemingly capricious demeanor among The Court. Of a handful of the Unseelie, She was one whom I held in highest esteem imaginable. I trusted and welcomed her personal enquiry without reprehension, nor would I oblige the contempt I readily fed to the others who scurried past me with their disapproval and outright odium.

Rae:

"Thee are most well aware of certain relatives of mine, aye? That the son of my sister's daughter and the Lord of Nightmares came out more Sidhe than god, due to the nature of the Realm?"

Meaning of course the Dream Realm which many of her court had come from or passed through on the way here.

"Whilst I send out Char and Sunset to do what I bid done, I would ask if thee should like to accompany me. Now upon a time past I have let certain insults be directed at those in my Court, since I was not sure how I should most properly deal with them."

Leaving unsaid that she had had to ask what she should have known, but it was hardly her fault that she had come into being the way that she had.

"Now I am aware the true depth of the insults leveled at us, and I find while I could ask He that controls the Sluagh to take care of this for me, I would rather do something more direct. I will Ride with the Hunt, mo contúirt, and at my side I will want a pair of those loyal to me. We shall laugh when the cwn annwn bay and make our quarry flee before us. So I ask, will thee come and Ride with the Hunt itself? I know this is not something that is lightly accepted, and if thee do decline I will not think less of thee."

The glow of gold in her eyes told him that her words were true, she would not for an instant think less of him if he chose to keep his being apart from the wild magic that swept up the Hunt. But it was a considering mark, that she would believe that his strength was such that he would be able to keep his wits and power about him if he did.

She leaned towards him, turning her cheek against his wrist and her hair slid down his arm fresh from being near her, a wave of apple scent to wash over him from that mass of silk.

"Know that if thee ride with me that night, we will dip our hands in blood, and we shall see what comes of that."

She meant to make them pay, and sure of it, and she was not so squeamish as to not lift her own hand to do it should it come to that.


Talioun:

"Aye, The Master and Lord of The Wild Hunt," speaking the name with unfaltering deference, my senses were nearly drowned in the exotic bouquet of Her hair, that when I spoke again my voice sounded strange when they touched my ears. I was unable to entirely suppress the rapture I felt as the heat of magic began to culminate at the core of my body, the argentite light glistening just beneath my skin in tremulous illumination. Restraint is ever at the forefront of my commendable aptitudes, but my joy at being reunited with my Queene once more was apparently not entirely conducive to lucid thought and stringent self-discipline this evening. If I were lucky, She might mistake the revelry for gladness of being invited to such an important quest, but Jausserande was not daft.

"My Lady Queene," I managed to ease the words from my lips in the softest of soughs at the touch of Her silken flesh, opening eyes I had not realized I closed to peer upward through the sheen of luminous white-gold. It seemed a travesty to accept such a proposal of grandeur laying upon my back, that my movements were mercurial and effortless as I slid from the couch to fall upon my knees before Her.

"I commend your mettle and laud your resolution; I shall stand or ride beside you with dauntless conviction and indomitability so long as You wish it so. You have my word that I lift my blade and battlecry in Your Name," placing both my palms against the cool surface below Her feet, I bowed my head with fervent and profound veneration till it nearly kissed the ground, "Your enemies are ever mine, as they shall always be, and they shall be felled one by one in righteous agony before the hooves of our mounts knowing full well it was at the charity of Jausserande Niahshay Narathameralsia Herself. I cannot express my gratitude at being granted such an honor, my Queene, I am humbled. How might I possibly repay you for this sublime venture?"

Without plausible thought, before I could halt myself, my lips touched the top of her foot which lie nearest to me. I pulled my mouth away so suddenly I startled myself, turning my face to rest my cheek upon it in stead of my heedless, audacious reaction. I was a luminous creature, saturated with lustrous sterling phosphorescence, as my pleasure was made known, it washed over Her skin despite myself. How I could have concealed my delight otherwise, I am not certain...

Rae:

He was grace incarnate, as were all Sidhe of low birth or high, as he slipped forth from his supine station to make his obeisance to her. That he had been so struck by her offer to so let his control slip was both incredible and flattering to her in a way not easily explained to a non-Sidhe. By the Lords of Air and Dark though, the glory of his power washed over the bare skin of her elegant feet, and oh for a moment she let it wash over her and she shivered like a starving cat given its first taste of milk or meat in ages. She let that power wash over her, and she did not prevent the rise of her own to flow back into him for those few brief precious moments, bending a bit where she sat so she could bury her hands in her coal dark locks, the light sending shimmers of color through that silk.

A breath or two, and she allowed him to keep his cheek upon her bare skin, and her warm honey voice would flow over him even as her power would withdraw.

"Thee are Mine," a whisper again of his name, so perfectly intoned in her voice. "Thee are Mine, and that is enough."

Talioun:

Later, I would blame my imprudence and temerity on simply having become too caught up in the moment - but there was something about Jausserande, which invoked such undeniably strong, utterly quixotic reactions from within me.

"I am Yours, and I am not," before I came jarringly to my senses, the whisper of my words punctured the shimmering brilliance of our commingled Sidhe magic where it pulsed and gleamed like a distant star. Bittersweet, they sounded, laden heavily with regret and unconscious anguish I had not meant to connote following that moment of pious dictum. I must have apologized half a dozen times after that ill-timed admission, seeking her good graces once more as I remained prostrate before her. The withdrawal of her power, the chill which suddenly pervaded in the absence of her touch, raked down my back like a claw of cold steel - or it may have been the precursory dread which haunted my conscience.

"I shall ever be Yours, my Queene; please forgive my impertinence,"the silver gleam of my body had been snuffed as a candle between two pinching fingers suddenly as I reined that which was salvageable and dignified back once more. "I....fear I am not entirely myself tonight, if it is not favorable for my presence to be in Your Graces, please speak and I shall take my leave. I confess that my excitement by Your homecoming has somehow distorted my sensibilities, but I maintain my desire to join you upon The Hunt - more than words can properly convey."

The privacy of closed doors and ensorcelled walls prevented prying eyes and ears angled toward casual eavesdrop, but there was a healthy passel of curiosity and inference where The Court was considered. Surely others would fall to jealous presupposition as to whom entertained our Queene's fancy if I held her attention for much longer - it was an awkward situation. I only prayed that she would not send me away in anger, though it would be well-justified, if it were so. Whom would torture the Torturer, I wondered absently for but a moment, sliding backward away from Her feet to allow her space to stand if she wished.