Much had changed in Raej these days. The Queen was absent, and the Court was trying to rule in her stead. Why the Province Queens hadn’t stepped in to fill the gap was beyond Isabelle, but she was so very grateful that they hadn’t. It meant that she and her Sisters could go about trying to find a new Queen, and keep Raej from being torn apart by the greed that had permeated them for generations.
There was a newer, more personal, change however. Well, several of them. The first being the astounding enmity that Isabelle was receiving from her elder brother - the Steward. He’d once been her strongest ally, and now he was her greatest enemy. To make matters worse, Isabelle had fostered a viper in her own home. Henrick, battered and tormented, who was in turn battering and tormenting her.
Today, she’d had enough. She paced, and struggled, and wept, and cursed. The threads of her lovely life were falling further into disarray, and panic was setting in. How was she going to fix this?
The familiar old street was new, and Isabelle stared at it as though she didn’t know where to go or what to do. She balled her fists into her skirts, the Tiger Eye at her throat flaring and sparking. A Prince ran into her, and she hissed - nearly as crazed as her ragged Warlord Prince himself. The male read the challenge for what it was.
Isabelle couldn’t have known it would happen that way. She’d never sought to harm a living soul a day in her life. It was she who ended up in the gutter, her nose bleeding freely and her skirts absorbing filth. It was her first fight, and she felt like a child. Like a pitiful wretch. Helpless, trapped within an uncooperative body, set in a useless mindset.
Perhaps Henrick had a reason for his uncontrollable outbursts. She’d certainly found her own.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
DC #4 Healing: Oliver/Caroline/Miranda
“Do you think he’s dead?” The dark blue eyes regarded the man, and a slim finger poked the Ebon-Gray Warlord Prince’s bicep. The girl, well- the young woman, really, was about sixteen or so. Although she was in the Healing room, she was not a Healer. Not even one in training. Caroline Hunter was merely the daughter of the Healer, and as such, used to assisting.
“Caroline, he is most certainly not dead. He’s submerged in a deep healing web, and please stop checking him out. Your Uncle will have your hide.” The girl laughed at her mother’s words, musical tones that brightened the room.
“Uncle Samael doesn’t have to know, mother. Besides, the Prince is unconscious. That’s no fun!”
Miranda quirked an eyebrow at her fair-haired child. As usual, Caroline ignored her mother’s expression, and continued to explore the attractive man. Her hands trailed down his chest, and still ignoring her mother, closer to the sheet that draped the man for modesty’s sake. Just as her fingers had taken hold of the sheet, a strong hand wrapped gently around her wrist, pulling her away.
“Lady, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His light-blue eyes were unfocused. Another woman might think he was still waking up. Caroline, a Queen with a Warlord Prince in her service already, knew better.
“I think you’re right, Prince.”
“Caroline, he is most certainly not dead. He’s submerged in a deep healing web, and please stop checking him out. Your Uncle will have your hide.” The girl laughed at her mother’s words, musical tones that brightened the room.
“Uncle Samael doesn’t have to know, mother. Besides, the Prince is unconscious. That’s no fun!”
Miranda quirked an eyebrow at her fair-haired child. As usual, Caroline ignored her mother’s expression, and continued to explore the attractive man. Her hands trailed down his chest, and still ignoring her mother, closer to the sheet that draped the man for modesty’s sake. Just as her fingers had taken hold of the sheet, a strong hand wrapped gently around her wrist, pulling her away.
“Lady, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His light-blue eyes were unfocused. Another woman might think he was still waking up. Caroline, a Queen with a Warlord Prince in her service already, knew better.
“I think you’re right, Prince.”
DC #3 AU: Adele/Balthazar
The Eyrien’s wings were outspread, blocking the door and her escape. She knew that her father wouldn’t have turned her over to just anyone, but this man was completely frightening. He reminded her of the mountains, of how stony and immovable they truly were. She didn’t understand what she’d done to merit such a stern escort, except that she was supposedly the Darkest female in the Territory.
Adele Belmonte curtsied deeply, and extended her hands, palm-up. The Sapphire Jeweled Warlord Prince, covered her hands with his, the calloused fingers bruising her delicate wrist. It was a symbol, of what was to come. Of the treatment she could expect in Askavi, of the power that could subjugate her.
Adele inclined her head, shaking slightly under the weight of Balthazar’s presence, and she wondered what would have happened if someone entirely different had been the one to escort her to her new homeland.
Or if she’d still have crumbled under the weight of their expectations.
Adele Belmonte curtsied deeply, and extended her hands, palm-up. The Sapphire Jeweled Warlord Prince, covered her hands with his, the calloused fingers bruising her delicate wrist. It was a symbol, of what was to come. Of the treatment she could expect in Askavi, of the power that could subjugate her.
Adele inclined her head, shaking slightly under the weight of Balthazar’s presence, and she wondered what would have happened if someone entirely different had been the one to escort her to her new homeland.
Or if she’d still have crumbled under the weight of their expectations.
DC #2 Angst: Juliette/Kalan
“Lady!” A strong arm steadied Juliette in the downpour, keeping her balanced and on her feet. She didn’t recognize the Purple-Dusk Prince, and she was tired enough and frightened enough to be wary. She jerked her arm free, the drained Gray swinging against her breasts. Juliette knew she ought to vanish it, and call in her Green. But was was too tired.
“Lady, are you alright?” Was she? Juliette didn’t think so. She was too bone-weary, to heart-sick to be able to claim being alright. Her eyes closed, scrunching her face to keep the tears at bay. She pressed her hand to her stomach.
“No, my friend, I am not.” She’d always known the cost of Shalador’s freedom would be high. She’d never imagined what it would require her own hands to enact.
The man regarded her with gentle blue eyes, and he drew her close, wrapping protective arms around the small form that did not resist the embrace.
“You have freed us, I know that it is little comfort. But we are grateful.”
Juliette abruptly pulled away, and glared up at the man, with sickened eyes.
“I have saved no one.” With that, she continued her way home, soaked to the bone.”
“Lady, are you alright?” Was she? Juliette didn’t think so. She was too bone-weary, to heart-sick to be able to claim being alright. Her eyes closed, scrunching her face to keep the tears at bay. She pressed her hand to her stomach.
“No, my friend, I am not.” She’d always known the cost of Shalador’s freedom would be high. She’d never imagined what it would require her own hands to enact.
The man regarded her with gentle blue eyes, and he drew her close, wrapping protective arms around the small form that did not resist the embrace.
“You have freed us, I know that it is little comfort. But we are grateful.”
Juliette abruptly pulled away, and glared up at the man, with sickened eyes.
“I have saved no one.” With that, she continued her way home, soaked to the bone.”
Drabble Challenge #1 Kiss (Caroline/Samael)
The ocean spray was cold against her face, and Caroline wrapped the masculine coat tighter against her frame. Ethavar, her step-brother, had insisted that she wear it to meet her uncle’s ship. He might not be a Warlord Prince, but she was quickly discovering that Eyrien males were all as stubborn and snarly as such. The boy was a handful of years older, though not yet old enough for his Offering. His lingering scent on the coat was comforting, and she deeply breathed in the emanating aroma from the wide leather collar.
Uncle Samael was due in port, or at least Aunt Juliette had said as much - and she was often right about such things. Caroline wasn’t typically allowed by the docks, but Ethavar had helped her to sneak out, even if he was waiting a few yards away. It had been several month since Samael had last been in port, and this time he’d be taking Aunt Juliette away. This was not fine with Caroline, for her young aunt was the most interesting adult in the home. Well, she was the least vigilante in her own way. She too often knew what Caroline planned on doing before it happened - which was a damn nuisance.
Before she’d waited long, she saw the ship moving into the harbor. It was pretty, she supposed, as far as they went. Hers would be prettier, when she had one. Without any thinking Caroline moved closer to the edge of the dock, though she stopped when she felt Ethavar’s warning. He wouldn’t hesitate to swoop in and pluck her out of a crowd; he’d done it before. The young Queen frowned, itching to fly up to the deck of her Uncle’s ship and throw herself into his arms.
Caroline crossed her arms around her waist, snuggling into the warmth of her step-brother’s coat, feeling his concerned albeit respectful, presence hovering in the back of her mind, on the edge of her thoughts, ready to defend her should the need arise. Fortunately, it didn’t, and she scrambled up to the docked boat, and up the rigging, swinging herself easily on deck.
“What are you doing here?” Strong arms swept her up, her back pressed against a firm chest. She would have been horrified and frightened, had it not been for the familiarity of the voice, the long-expected scratch of his whiskers against her neck and cheek, and her uncle bestowed the familial kiss of greeting upon her.
Uncle Samael was due in port, or at least Aunt Juliette had said as much - and she was often right about such things. Caroline wasn’t typically allowed by the docks, but Ethavar had helped her to sneak out, even if he was waiting a few yards away. It had been several month since Samael had last been in port, and this time he’d be taking Aunt Juliette away. This was not fine with Caroline, for her young aunt was the most interesting adult in the home. Well, she was the least vigilante in her own way. She too often knew what Caroline planned on doing before it happened - which was a damn nuisance.
Before she’d waited long, she saw the ship moving into the harbor. It was pretty, she supposed, as far as they went. Hers would be prettier, when she had one. Without any thinking Caroline moved closer to the edge of the dock, though she stopped when she felt Ethavar’s warning. He wouldn’t hesitate to swoop in and pluck her out of a crowd; he’d done it before. The young Queen frowned, itching to fly up to the deck of her Uncle’s ship and throw herself into his arms.
Caroline crossed her arms around her waist, snuggling into the warmth of her step-brother’s coat, feeling his concerned albeit respectful, presence hovering in the back of her mind, on the edge of her thoughts, ready to defend her should the need arise. Fortunately, it didn’t, and she scrambled up to the docked boat, and up the rigging, swinging herself easily on deck.
“What are you doing here?” Strong arms swept her up, her back pressed against a firm chest. She would have been horrified and frightened, had it not been for the familiarity of the voice, the long-expected scratch of his whiskers against her neck and cheek, and her uncle bestowed the familial kiss of greeting upon her.
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