Private Tales The Lost Princess and The Exiled Prince

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Maeve listened, enraptured with every little detail and a million questions. She couldn't even begin to imagine what that might be like. Firstly to even see one of those creatures in person - they must have been at least the sizes of horses if not larger. And then to be able to fly?

"What's it like?" her voice was full of awe.

"To fly? To just... be up above the clouds?" being this far up off the ground made her sick enough she doubted she would be able to handle the feeling of flying through the skies. But a part of her wanted the opportunity to have a go one day.
 
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He smiled a the memory. "It is liberating, terrifying, exhilarating."

There were a dozen other adjectives that spun around in his head, but he did not want to overload her with them.

"The first time is the worst. They are usually too young to really understand the weight of you, so you have to balance yourself just right as they fly." Arun had nearly died on his first trip, falling from Vallya's back before she'd swooped low to catch him. "After a while it becomes almost natural."

He stirred the veggies a moment more, and then poured some into a bowl besides the stove. Then he took some of the venison in the adjacent pan and added it to the veggies, adding more of the sauce from the bottle before turning up the heat even further. "You form a bond, a kinship. Their eyes become yours, and their wings a part of you."
 
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Maeve's eyes glazed over as the images filled her mind of wings beneath her, the soft feel of feathers instead of a horse beneath you. She wondered if it was similar to how it felt when she got up to her own horses maximum speed and threw her arms out. The girl sighed dreamily, like another young woman might over a romantic story.

"It is similar with horses in my tribe," she said slowly. "Nowhere... near as wonderful as flying though," she added hastily. As much as she loved her, Whisper would never be able to compare to an eagle or the sensation of one, though Maeve would love her the most even then. "I mean in that we tend to form a bond with the horse from a young age, you become one," she bit down on her bottom lip. She had been 13 years old when she had visited the Seas where the horses roamed free. "It is a special rite amongst my people to tame a wild horse."
 
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"Interesting." He knew of some cities in the Falwood that trained horses, though as far as he knew none were the same as the Eagles.

His hands pulled at the oddly shaped pan for a few more seconds, tossing what was inside of them before he grabbed another bowl and let the contents fall inside. A smile pulled on his lips, and he grabbed two forks along with the bowls as he walked over towards Maeve.

"I assume you went through this rite?" He asked.

Arun did not want to probe, but it was a better topic of conversation than blood and slaughter.
 
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"When I was 13, as is the way," Mae gave him an almost shy smile as she took the bowl and began to shovel food into her mouth like her throat had been cut. "Th'ish grea'," she said around a mouthful before finishing the rest of it off in an inhumane amount of time. The magic had drained her far more than she had realised. When she was done she flopped back into the pillows with a hand over her still hollowed looking stomach - it would be a long time before she regained the healthy layer of fat she had had before.

"You have to spend a while looking for them - the herd travels - and then when you approach you find one that feels right and you tame it. I knew Whisper was mine as soon as I saw her," the beautiful palamino with hair as white as snow with a matching blaze down her nose had practically nudged the girl off her feet when she approached. Her lips lifted into the ghost of a smile.

"I think she knew too."
 
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Arun ate much more slowly, mostly because he was a man of culture.

The Elf munched on the vegetables with no small amount of satisfaction. Food was always such an interesting thing for him. Most of the time he took no joy from it, but then there were moments like this, moments where his body was nearly overwhelmed with hunger.

There was something extremely satisfying about simply...eating. "Where is she now?"

He asked softly.

A part of him thought that he already knew the answer, and that it might have been a mistake to ask, but he couldn't help but do so.
 
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"Home," the word carried a tangle of emotions some of which surprised even her. "The last time I saw her she had arrows in her flank but she would have survived," it took far more than a few arrows to bring down the stocky horses the Ilcinki Tribe took as their mounts. They were born for war. "I suspect they will have let her go back onto the Plains, maybe she will take a mate," the thought of her horse having foals without her was almost as devastating as the idea of never seeing her again but Mae bore the emotional turmoil with the practised restraint of a royal.

"The important thing is is that she'll be with her herd at the very least. But she won't take another rider now," and it was likely she wouldn't let her line take one either. Horses remembered these things. "What about your eagle?"
 
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He nodded his head.

In part he supposed it was better than what he knew Vallya's fate was. To be able to return to the place of her birth, to be with others of her kind. There was a joy in that.

"She is being Kept in the Great Towers." There was a much fancier name for that in Elven, but he did not wish to speak it. On his tongue it would have sounded like a curse. "Not caged, but close enough to it."

He smiled wearily. "When My father exiled me he denied me her company, and thus she must be kept within the Tower."

If she had the ability Vallya would have found him. The Great eagle would have crossed oceans, soared over mountains.

Instead she was kept in a gilded cage.
 
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Maeve frowned at the very thought of it. Even when their horses weren't being used they were never kept in stables but allowed to roam free; they were not pets. Whisper was a storm only she allowed Maeve to ride and her kin were similar with the riders they chose. The mere thought of anyone putting them in some sort of cage... it would be agony for her. Her gaze flickered over to Arun and recognised on his face the similar emotions to which she would only have to imagine feeling.

"I'm really sorry, Arun, that's horrible," her teeth dug in to her bottom lip. "Is there a way to free her?" even if it were just on the principle that such a creature never should be caged, Maeve would help him if he knew a way to do it. It was the least of all she could do after his kindness.
 
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"I do not think so." It would have been a lie to say he hadn't thought about it.

A century was a long time to think, to plan. Vallya was still alive, he knew that much. He could feel it in his very soul, but she would be miserable. Without him, without the sky.

The thought pained him.

"The tower sits in the city." He explained. "Surrounded by my kin and guarded better than the greatest Vaults of Alliria."

A sigh escaped him. "I have thought often of freeing her, but...it is easier said than done."
 
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Maeve mulled over what he said. Sieges and such things were not really anything she had ever encountered before. Most tribes lived quite simply. The largest structures were in the very Capital and that was barely used anymore for nobody could decide who the King of Kings even was anymore. There was always the wind but it would depend on whether or not it saw doing such a thing a benefit to it.

"I'm sorry," her lips twisted. "Maybe we will figure out a way when we are on our journey - if you're still intent on coming with us," she raised an eyebrow towards him. He had been going that way to kill the tribals but now that he had done that she wasn't sure if he still sought company.
 
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"I am." He told her with a soft smile.

He had made a promise, and he intended on keeping it. A part of him also believed that this exile had been the wrong decision, that he had only staved off the inevitable by trying to push himself into the middle of nowhere.

"As far as I'm concerned your part of the bargain was fulfilled." He bowed his head as he finished eating. "Now it is my turn."

Plus, a part of him did not want her to walk the Falwood alone.

Not right now.
 
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Well she hadn't fulfilled it; the wind had. A small frown marred her face as the thought struck her but she didn't say anything on the matter, it would do no good. Instead she focused instead on the fact that he was coming with her and how she was going to explain that to Liath. A grimace. Yet another problem for a later date, she thought as she pulled the blanket up and over her head.

"Am I the first human you've actually spent time with that didn't involve killing?" she asked suddenly, pulling the blanket down and turning to look at him with a raised eyebrow. The thought hadn't occurred to her until just now but it would explain a lot of his confused looks. "Do you have questions you've wanted to ask humans?" she had a million she wanted to ask elves, she was curious if it went both ways.
 
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Arun watched as she pulled the blanket over head, and then quickly proceeded to drop it back down. Humans were odd creatures. "Nearly."

The Elf said calmly. She was certainly the only one who he'd ever talked to for more than an hour.

"There was another man. He was injured on the battlefield, I sat and spoke with him as he died." The conversation had only been twenty or so minutes, but it had been eye opening in it's own way. "I do have questions that he did not answer though."

Arun considered for a moment how to phrase his words without being insulting. "What is it like...knowing that you will only be in this world for a short time."

A hundred years for most of them, less than that for some.
 
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Maeve stared at him like he had just asked her whether she would like to eat spiders or slugs for her dessert. She supposed it was the opposite to the question she had been thinking of - what was it like to live so long? - so after a moment or two she managed to rearrange her face into less of a scowl.

"Firstly, well done for not asking a man dying on a battlefield that question," the redhead raised an eyebrow then mused on the question a bit longer. "I guess you just don't really think about it. You take every day as it comes... When I was little I used to cry about dying to my mother. It seemed like a really scary thing that you only had a few years to try and cram everything you wanted to do into it but she said you'll always do the things you were meant to," a soft sigh as she brought her knees up to her chest. A pang of sadness spread across her chest.
 
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Arun had not said he didn't ask the man, just that he'd not received an answer. The Elf decided not to correct her though, and just listened to her answer.

After a few moments he nodded his head as if understanding, though there was difficulty in wrapping his head around the concept. "It's a strange idea to me."

He confessed.

"I have spent...well, a lifetime for you in exile doing almost nothing." Arun realized that it might sound like bragging, but she would hear the regret in his tone. "I think it was a mistake to accept it. Not to fight and just going."

His lips thinned. "In my lifetime a hundred years is not much, but...it seems a waste when I see your appreciation of it."
 
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Maeve slowly nodded as she began to understand his point of view. Then she bit her lip suddenly as if remembering some great secret she wasn't meant to tell. For a moment she warred with herself and then ran a hand through her hair.

"I am actually a little concerned that won't be a problem for me much longer," a soft sigh. "The exact wording of the Fae's bond was that no natural thing would end my life and I wonder if that means death from old age too - what is more natural for a human? And I am sure he didn't intend to claim a wife for her to die in a blink of his eye," her brows pulled down into a frown and she picked at the blanket gathered about her knees.

"I have the opposite question for you - what do you do with all that time?" Maeve thought she might grow sick of it pretty quickly, especially when she began to lose her loved ones.
 
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Arun nodded his head. "I have heard tell of such abilities from the Fae."

He wondered how that would effect her. It was not easy being practically immortal, especially for someone whose life was supposed to have been short. She would see her family die, her friends, most things.

His lips thinned, and he decided not to point that out.

"Hobbies." He answered back with a comically simple smile. "Lots and lots of hobbies."

Arun always started out bad, but he got good at most things eventually. By now he had a plethora of talents at his disposal. Most of them utterly useless. "Tree-singing, oosqua making, reading, magic."

He shrugged.

"Back home I would be pursuing knowledge. Perhaps honing my abilities with the sword." He frowned a moment. "Most of our lives are spent in an almost arrogance. Things in our society move more slowly. You humans have a much faster pace than us."
 
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Maeve wondered if there was enough hobbies in the world she would be able to take up to keep her occupied for that length of time. Oddly, she found the idea of living forever more depressing than only having a short amount of time on Arethil.

"I guess I will have to learn how to slow things down a gear," Mae didn't look convinced. She wasn't a person who could stay still - even healing it should be clear by now she couldn't just sit still. The young human was constantly shifting her position or huffing or playing with her hair. Something to keep her hands occupied.

"I would like to learn how to make that drink though," she canted her head to the side at the thought of it. Maybe she could find her own eagle and learn how to ride that too if she ended up having all the time in the world. "Ok, your next weird human question," she settled back into the cushions. It was an oddly enjoyable game.
 
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Arun smiled. "It's easy enough, though your hands get numb when you make it."

The Elf had already told her about what the fruit did once touched.

"First." Arun asked quietly. "Would you mind if I..."

He trailed off, gesturing towards the other side of the Sofa from her. The wooden chair he had sat himself in was fine for a time, but as he had discovered while they were playing stones it was hardly comfortable to sit in for longer than a few minutes.

If she denied him he would take no offense, but it was worth asking.
 
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Numb hands for a drink that good didn't sound too much of a chore and she was about to make a quip when he asked to sit on the sofa. Her eyes flicked briefly from him to the spot next to her. It wasn't exactly a large space, they would be sitting close, knees almost brushing... but she had slept in the same bed as him and had not minded. Her heart hammered in her chest even as she nodded her consent and drew herself up as best as she could onto her side of the sofa.

"Yes, of course," Mae could hear the discomfort in her own voice and scowled at herself, shaking her head a little. Get over it already. "I'm sorry... you've been so patient with me," her eyes dropped to her lap as she fiddled with her hands. "I know you're nothing like them but I can't...help it...." she let the words die on her tongue. She would just have to, Ilcinki didn't have the word 'can't'.
 
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Arun didn't move. "It is alright."

He understood trauma well, perhaps better than most. It was not the same sort as she had endured of course, but...close enough. The other side of the coin really. A frown touched his face, and he shook his head.

"Perhaps..." Arun smiled. "I do not wish to make you uncomfortable. If you need more time, I will just take a cushion instead."

It seemed am amicable enough solutions.

Arun would not push her to do something she did not want, especially considering that it had really only been three days.
 
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"No," Maeve shook her head firmer this time and patted the sofa next to her. "I need to get over it, I can't go on living my life in this way," she let a shrug roll over her shoulders. She was trying to play it casual, desperately so, but there was still a stiffness in her shoulders. It was also clear she was trying to fight it.

"Actually," she took some of the cushions and made a small little wall down the middle like she had done on the bed. It was barely going to do anything if either of them wanted it gone but for some reason it seemed to settled her instantly. Her shoulders relaxed, her breathing evened out, and she even managed an actual smile. "There."
 
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Arun moved himself onto the couch, taking a seat and glancing down at the partition she had created between them with a small smile. There was a...very human sillyness to the little construct, but the Elf did not comment on it.

"Seems to work." The Elf said as he leaned back into the cushions.

After a few moments of getting comfortable he took a breath.

"Love." He began. "What is it like for you?"

Arun of course meant humanity, not for Maeve specifically. He knew what it was like in Elven culture; rare. True love hardly ever rose to the surface of things. Life was too regimented, too uncaring, too long. It was another reason there were so few of them now.
 
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Maeve carefully bent her left leg across the sofa cushions then let her right leg dangle off of the sofa. It allowed her to rest her left arm across the back of the couch and meant it was easier to still face him as they spoke instead of just turning her head constantly. There seemed to be some amusement from him about her little partisan but she didn't mind, it helped her and it didn't offend him. The next question however, caught her completely off guard.

"From death to love huh?" she raised both brows. "Err..." Mae wasn't entirely sure how to describe it. She thought of her mother and father and the love they had, but then that was more a love of necessity than a romantic love. "Complicated..." she settled on. "Maybe if you tell me what you exactly want to know...? Do you mean like how people fall in love... or like the different kindsa love or....?"
 
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