Private Tales A King’s Bargain

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Midir's smirk belonged on a cat that had just had a saucer of cream put down.

"Later," he shrugged as though it made no difference when he saw vital information to save his court. He picked up his wine and took a sip then went back to eating his food. "Eat, you've had a long day," he didn't bother to hide the amusement that threaded through his tone.

The starlight-made fae seemed to have been waiting for suddenly they appeared once more and swept the dishes clear, replacing them with a new assortment of choice fruits, cheeses and desserts.

"Why don't you tell me more about your brother?"
 
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Fraeya glared at the Erlking in the starlit darkness. Very slowly, her clenched fingers unwound from the base of her seat. She didn't know if she wanted to slap him or thread her fingers through that hair of his. A moment of horror at her own thoughts as her eyes decidedly tore away from his face and suddenly found the different cheese very interesting.

She put an assortment on her plate of various things and forced herself to eat small bites.

To eat something.

A wary flicker up at him as he asked about her brother. The wine she'd down was already replaced. She took a small sip. "Is making others squirm a favorite pastime of yours?"

Her teeth bit into a grape, the juice exploding in her mouth and glistening on her lips. She swallowed.

"I don't know him that well."
 
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Midir's answer to her rhetorical question was a sly smile before he went back to eating. He was more curious about how much contact she had had with the mortal man. It was only because the river fae could be brought for a shinny shell that he had even known she had visited her brother. Not that he minded. As far as he was aware Delun had not set any rules about not travelling to the mortal realm so long as she did her duties and came home.

It merely interested him why she tried to keep it hidden.

"Perhaps you should visit more, I hear he is having a baby soon."
 
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No matter how long she'd been around the fae. How long she'd practiced to school her very human emotions. To hide her reactions. To be sly like the monarch before her, she couldn't stop or hide the shock that eclipsed her face.

That meant that Lexi...

Well, Fraeya seriously hoped it was Lexi and her brother hadn't knocked someone else up.

"Perhaps I should. Does that mean you and Delun will give me the next two weeks off? Or rather, anytime off that I choose?" Less keeping of the books and lists. No missions in other courts. No more errands to run. A spread of goat cheese on a cracker with a smidge of honey. An innocent flutter of her lashes in the King's direction even as her eyes shone like flint.

And she didn't know if what he said was true. He'd worded it very fae-like.
 
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"Of course," he spread his hands with an expression that suggested he was hurt she even thought he might not agree. "You're not a prisoner of the fae, Fraeya. A Changeling your age is unusual, have you ever wondered why?" he watched her face carefully as he took another sip of his wine. "Because Delun sees something in you, something of promise. The more freedom you have had the better the work you've delivered. It's not gone unnoticed," a dangerous thing for a human.

Or at least many of them would think so.

"I'm sure such a long holiday could be considered for family. There are no more hunts until the Spring after all."
 
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She swallowed the cracker and cheese. "Just to be clear, I'm not asking this as part of our bargain. My original request still stands." She knew she was on dangerous ground but she'd been on dangerous ground since she'd been taken as a babe.

A swirl of her wine goblet. Another sip. "But enough about me. How is it going with your brother." It was no secret. At least to those who paid attention.
 
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Midir chuckled and inclined his head. Smart girl.

"A simple act of friendship," he purred and took a deeper sip of his wine. Delun certainly would not mind. He doubted the scribe would actually notice for two weeks anyway, the fae barely lifted his eyes from his work. Midir often had to pry him out of the office to get fresh air or attend a special event. Perhaps it would be prudent to find him a wife soon, give him something else to focus on.

His musings were disturbed by Fraeya's own question. His green eyes shifted back to the bold human girl opposite then quirked a brow.

"Doing well. Realising a son isn't all he dreamed of," he laughed beneath his breath.
 
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“Do you think your sons would get along?” An innocent question.

Reaching near her, she plucked up a small tart. Dark-chocolate lines over some kind of citrus filling and buttery crust. It was bitter, sweet, and tart all at once. A summation of her life with the fae and a taste that was her favorite.

“Do you know what’s most surprising about tonight?” Her hand went for water this time. Fae wine was strong.

“Your laugh. I’ve never heard it back in court.”

At least, not like this.
 
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Midir shrugged in a lazy gesture

"Most probably, if I could ever convince my son to step off his little island and socialise with his family," the expression on his face made it clear how likely that was from every occurring. The constraints and problems of the crown meant Midir had always had to be a harsh king and a harsher father. If Lorcan was to succeed and become strong enough to do so then he needed to hate him enough to put an iron knight through his heart.

Midir thought he'd done rather well, but it did have its drawbacks when he needed his son to do something for his own good.

He paused with his wine glass half way to his lips when she uttered her next comment.

"I am a person," he replied dryly.
 
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Eyes lifted at his last statement. Her expression careful as she studied him. He was. And he was a lot of things.

“It’s nice to see that you are.” Her lips pressed closed as soon as she said it. She liked his sense of humor in the witch’s hut. That rare moment of laughter. True laughter, not the sneer, crafty, or snide remark.

“But don’t worry. It won’t make me forget my position and place.” She could bet on him forgetting about her as soon as their bargain was done. And this night was over. She should find relief from that but for some reason she didn’t.
 
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Midir raised a brow at the subtle undertones to her words. The resentment, the dash of fear, the sturdy belief in her place in their world and the... disappointment. She really was such a curious little human.

"Oh but you would," he sighed and glanced out towards the ocean. "Everybody would. And then what happens to the balance I keep? What I am - the myths and legends I've created over the years - they're necessary to keep people in line. Everyone needs a villain and this crown comes with the role," he shrugged. It was a thing he had come to terms with hundreds of millennia ago.
 
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"What will happen if your son doesn't want that role?" A swirl of her glass and another swallow. She leaned back in her chair, never looking away from his face even as his gaze focused on the ocean beyond.

Midir didn't have to worry about that yet.

But perhaps one day.

Fraeya wasn't one to presume she knew the machinations of the fae before her at all. But tonight made her realize they might be more similar than she'd care to admit.
 
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Midir laughed beneath his breath.

"The Autumn Crown does not let you choose. You're chosen," it was a cryptic answer and the only one Midir was willing to give but his mind wandered back through the many years of his own memory. When a person had lived as long as the Erlking had those early memories were either difficult to recall or blazed like a brilliant sun and felt like yesterday. The whispering of the crown, the first day he had heard the call to claim it, that one blazed more brilliantly than the rest.

"And it's chosen my son. He will fight it, but in the end it will be his," and maybe then he would realise the difficult choices Midir had had to make.
 
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Fraeya didn’t say anything. The Erlking was so convinced. He still hadn’t seen what she had. She just hoped there was still an Autumn Court left. And she had to wonder what kind of ruler Lorcan would be. She was less than impressed with him based on her last encounter.

And while she knew of the island, she’d never been there before. She doubted Lorcan remembered her. Or even thought of her after their encounter at the ball. She just remembered how happy he’d been to put her in a spotlight she’d never asked for. He was flippant and cruel. She kept hearing reports of how he didn’t want to be like Midir but from where she sat, he was already well on his way. And she had no desire to meet him again. One Autumn court royalty was enough to worry about, she didn’t need two and was glad he stayed away.

“Are you happy it chose him?” A swirl of her glass.
 
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Are you happy it chose him?

It was a question he asked himself often. He had no control over who the crown whispered to in the night but out of all his fae would he have chosen his son? When he was younger he might have said he was; there was no finer thing than for a father to see a son succeed him. But now? Now he knew more about the crown with every passing century?

"Let's see what it is you have to show me, shall we?" he asked abruptly instead now that dessert was over. He rose from his chair in one fluid movement then rounded the table to loom above her. "Ready?" he asked.
 
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A blink and her head tilted as he stood over her. Sometimes it was easy to forget how quickly they moved. While she may rival a human with her own grace and speed growing up among the fae, she'd never match them. Ever.

She swallowed.

Couldn't help the flit of her gaze to the horizon to see if she saw the beginnings of a light glow. Was his night almost up?

She stood and faced the king, taking an involuntary half-step back. She couldn't help it. Call it instinct.

"Just what we agreed on," she managed, fingers curling into fists at her sides.
 
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"Just what you show me," Midir agreed with a purr then motioned for her to take a step closer. Once she was closer he would place his long, elegant fingers on either temple. They were surprisingly warm and soft.

"Open your mind and share with me what you will," he urged quietly. A tingle of magic would fill her then a sound like a gentle knock at a door at the entrance to her mind. All it required was her consent
 
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She knew fingers that had ripped and feasted on flesh of babes now cradled her head between them. One last stare into his eyes before she closed her own. Tightly. The sharp tang of magic on the tip of her nose.

And she could picture it all.

The 'door' she had to open. Even as she knew what was waiting on the other side. A part of her urged her to turn away. To lock the door instead of open it. To flee the other direction. But her mental self stepped forward and turned the knob, opening her mind. But not before other doors and walls were mentally erected to protect, or try to protect, things she wanted to keep hidden.

And then they'd find themselves among the Oracles of the South. Voices like branches scraping on window panes during a rough wind. Tall gaunt and shadowy-figures. And then the vision changed, spinning on its axis to capture what they showed her. The world was filled with twilight. The air thick with despair and a weight of something supernatural.

The landscape would change quickly as if riding upon the wings of a massive bird or up in an airship of legend. The Autumn Court a smoldering mess. A disease and sickness upon the land and its vegetation. Not just Autumn Court but Winter, Spring, and Summer. Dusk and Dawn.

And as she showed Dawn, the ground beneath her feet almost seemed to tremble before the vision pulled her back in.

There was one court that stood. Houses and structures built from bones. A shadowy figure on a throne. Severed heads leading up the walkway. The monarchs and leaders of the other courts. And the very last one hung by its own white long hair, green eyes long-since dulled, was King Midir himself. And beneath his hanging head, something that looked like The Book. A mockery of it. A shadow of what it was, now just as dead as the world around it.

And for a moment, as the vision played out, Fraeya’s mental self turned away getting the feeling if she kept turning, she might get a glimpse of something from Midir’s own mind.
 
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Midir watched the vision carefully. He was not a fool to dismiss a vision just because it was a human who had seen it. He was, however, dubious about what exactly she thought the vision meant and the only way to figure it out for himself was to pay attention. What stood out the most was that the Night Court was absent. The sinister tension in the frames of vision were definitely their MO but... they had never been strong enough to wage war on the other courts even when they had been united.

He didn't so much as blink at seeing his own head mounted and the book upon which it sat. So that was why she feared for the lists.

Whilst all this was going on however, the Erlking had not left his mind unguarded.

"I wouldn't do that," he warned when he sensed her turn to glimpse. With surprising tenderness he released her from his hold then turned his gaze. The sun was beginning to rise. "It seems our night is over, when you have decided what your favour is you only need call. But otherwise, consider your half of the bargain finished," he waved a hand and the ink about her throat vanished.
 
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Eyes opened and she felt the weight and weariness of the magic and the night settle down upon her shoulders as the sun rose along the horizon. She couldn't stop the reaction of her fingers fluttering to cleared skin on her neck just above the leathers. Not that it hadn't been smooth before but she felt the tingle of magic before suddenly gone.

Bare.

"My request still stands," she said quietly. Not knowing how he would do it or what it would mean. Or how it might change her, if at all. "I want the power to be able to protect the Book and the Lists. To keep the balance."
 
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Midir stopped walking away and paused to turn and look over his shoulder. Did she really understand what it was she was asking of him, what would happen to her? But it was too late. She had Asked and the Favour had to be paid. It nagged at him like an unseen itch and he intended to enjoy the rest of his holiday without it. So with a tiny shake of his head he turned back to her.

"Very well," he murmured.

There was no gentleness, no warning this time. Suddenly Midir was in front of her, her head between his iron grip hands as magic pulsed. There was nothing pleasant or sweet about this transformation as her human cells twisted and split apart to form into something knew. Something darker. Something dangerous. The true protectors of balance and the Lists.

A Black Shuck.
 
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“Wa-,” she couldn’t move from his iron grasp. And then her world exploded in pain. She screamed. Her hands coming to grip his wrists. The moon and stars fae-mark burned on her skin like fire as did the mark of the brownies. Their magic twisted and twined around the Alder King’s.

She was dying.

And at one point her raw voice croaked for him, no begged, for the Erlking to end it all. “Kill me,” she pleaded as everything in her burned and twisted. She didn't know that even eyelashes could hurt. Leathers stretched and ripped as her form lengthened. No longer craning her head to look up at the king but he was still taller. Curved ears stretched to delicate points. Hair and skin shimmered to something with an otherworldly sheen.

Her body shuddered as the strange magic worked it’s way through. With one last breath she collapsed, no longer human save for the heart beating in her chest. Something made. Something not yet known. A new kind of shuck. Not a black shuck but something different.
 
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Midir watched impassively as the true weight of her Favour hit her. He found himself devoid of all feelings besides... disappointment. He had hoped she would have thought of something more interesting. Of course she might not have really thought of the reality behind what she had asked of him. That she had essentially asked to become the very thing she pretended to hate. But it was still so dreadfully...

Predictable.

"Take her home," his lips curled in disgust as she collapsed on the floor, a faun and a satyr appearing at his side. They nodded and moved forward to scoop her up whilst Midir turned his back once more. As he wandered back to the palace he grabbed a wine glass from the table and took it with him back to his rooms.
 
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