Recent content by Midir

"We have been the puppets in their game for too long. The last days of Summer have come to pass." For the past decade the Summer Court had withdrawn from the world of mortal and fae alike. The Summer Queen has not been seen for almost five Hunts, and rumours swirl that she allows only a chosen...

If Razareal had been a courtier from his own court, he would be dead. Midir kept a perfectly calm mask in place as the spy gave his unasked for opinions in an open forum and wondered what type of Court Nairth held that courtiers felt so bold as to speak in such a manner to their kings. Spring...

"Because when I like a woman, I bed her. I suggest you try it some time for tension relieving..." The Erlking shot his oldest and closest friend a bemused look then glanced back at the kelpie. Thankfully it seemed Micha's attention had moved to the unwise pumpkin. It did not take much sense to...

Ah yes, the strange pumpkin. Midir gave a nod to the gourde in acceptance of his greetings and as a sign to enjoy the merriment of the night - what little there was of it. Most fae seemed to understand the statement the Autumn Court made by taking one of Summer's most famous celebrations. War...

The Fae did not have many rules. Indeed, for most of their lives they would search for loopholes and gaps in the few they did have. But the one that nobody dared to touch or break was that of hospitality. Hospitality was a rule that many suspected went all the way back to the Gods murmured to...

Midir caught Lorcan as he slumped forward and quietly gathered him in his arms. The Erlking was surprisingly strong despite his slimmer build and hefted the other fae with as much ease as a human would a bag of sugar. "Come," he said sharply to the medic and strode for his sons old rooms. On...

Midir watched his son collapse to the ground. Blood smeared down the wall where his bleeding wings touched the marble and pooled around him as thickly as his tears. The medic appeared but hesitated, hovering at the edge of the scene as instead of kicking Lorcan or throwing harsh words in his...

The Erlking gently reached out to cup his sons elbow and right him when he slipped on his own blood, grimacing. Quietly to a servant they passed he requested them to fetch the medic.

Midir didn't so much as raise a hand, the shadows parted around him as though too afraid to draw close. He kept his steady pace alongside his son. "The blood you're trailing through my hall would say otherwise," he said blandly but wisely chose not to push the matter further.

Midir gave an inaudible sigh. He supposed he really only had himself to blame for his sons bullheaded way of thinking, but he had always hoped his mother would deal with such softer matters. Silence continued to meet Lorcans cries. The odd servants they saw curiously glanced between the King...

The only sign of Midir's pleasure was the curl of his lips at the very corner. "Very good. Then, for your service already rendered I shall name you thus: Lord of Retribution." There was a power to his words that echoed through the room, and Oryn would feel a weight settle on him though not...

Midir appeared unphased by his son's growling anger. He flicked an imagined piece of lint off of his shoulder and then stood. "Endora was a cage; she knows it and you know it, no matter how much you tell yourself it was for her own good," his words whilst painful however did not carry their...

"She is resting," Midir replied with the cold calmness he usually adopted with his son. He lounged back on the bench and hooked an ankle over his knee. Despite Lorcan standing and he sitting, he still seemed to look down on the younger fae. "I would leave her alone for now, her temper is almost...

Three days later... "You should rest," the Erlking leant against the doorway to the forest arena and cast his eyes critically over the scene before him. Two of his shucks lay groaning on the floor but the third had managed to pin the Princess when she had been too busy dealing with one of the...

"If that is what you wish," The Erlking watched the madman with cold cunning. It was a delicate game he played; revealing the betrayal of his own brother could send Oryn over the edge. Or it could forge him into a valuable weapon for Midir to wield. He flicked an invisible bit of lint from his...