Fae Courts Let us speak of war on the morrow, tonight let us drink

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Midir

The Erlking
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Character Biography
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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 have given a portion of their power to the fae all those years ago. It was theorised to have been purposefully left in the blood the Gods gave them, a way to bind them to humanity even if it was just a fraction, as if they knew the children they had created would fill the world with mortal bones when they left. Others claimed

The Erlking wondered if it was the fae themselves who had agreed upon it. That they saw the pitfalls of their immortal lives and knew they needed one core part of lore to anchor themselves too lest the Mists wash them away. To give the fae something to trust in their long lives of deceit and trickery. Midir was certainly sure it was the only reason why so many opposing forces had come together this night to share wine beneath the Summer Solstice moon, then speak of war with the Dawn.

He had had to act quickly when Lorcan had obliterated half the Summer Palace and murdered one of the Queens most trusted advisers. Letters had been sent by Wisp to the leaders and their councils he knew would be sympathetic - those such as Spring and Winter who already knew of Summer's quiet trespasses these past millennia - and to those who were an enigma - like Dawn. He was not sure who would show, nor who they would bring with them to this charade of a Solstice ball. Who would believe him when he had revealed the truth of the reason why Summer now demanded his sons head: that they had tortured his mate. The only thing Midir suspected the fae held higher in esteem than hospitality. He'd demanded that they both attend so that those still unsure could speak to them directly. His son would have been a terrible liar even if their blood didn't forbid it. One look at the pair and most would believe the story, especially with Maeve's scars still not fully healed.

Tonight they would decide as they sipped on wine.

Tomorrow those that chose to side with Autumn, would plot a war that had lain dormant for nearly 4,000 years. A war against Summer.
 
How many times had she asked for Lorcán to take her to one of the many balls the fae appeared to throw? From the amount of invites that arrived at their door Maeve had a hard time believing the fae did anything else but drink, dance and fuck. Yet now she found herself at one - when she was actually meant to be, rather than sneaking in uninvited - she found herself wishing to be back in Endora. Of course, that had more to do with the fact people had come specifically to see them, rather than the beautiful ballroom spread out before them.

When she had been human, her clan had had danced for the Summer Solstice every year. It was nothing quite so grand as this with firelight that hovered in the air bewitched, and tables full of food the likes of which she had never seen. It had been a simple bonfire around which her people had danced barefooted and hollered at the moon above. The people had been happy. The fae here seemed...

"Are these things always so tense?" she murmured beneath her breath to the tall, dark and utterly hers, male beside her. Maeve peeked up at him through thick lashes and poked a finger into his side. "If you keep glowering at people nobody is going to come and talk to us."

The Erlking had explained several times that was the point in this evening at all to help court those leaders who had yet to decide a side to Autumn's cause. To prove what Summer had done to her. She had caught the barely hidden instruction not to cover up her scars despite how they made her stomach feel hollow. She'd opted for a gown that matched the colour of her eyes almost perfectly in a soft velvet. It hugged her curves until it reached her hips where it pooled to the floor. The back swooped low, brushing the two dimples in her lower back and showing off the myriad of criss-crossed scars Mercutio's lash had dealt her. She'd left her hair loose though, so the marks would only be seen when she turned her head or moved. She might have seen the logic in The Erlking's plan but that didn't mean she was going to serve herself on a platter for every bug-eyed fae in the room.

"Come on, let's get a drink," she said in a far softer tone and tried to lead her partner to the refreshments before he slit his fathers throat.
 
He had often been confused but this was easily the most confused he had been in some time, at least he felt this was.
Everyone he asked have him a different cause for despising the Summer Court but he had no attachment to any of it. No ties to any of these strangers. Some knew him by name but he looked at each face afresh and in that spirit he addressed Lord Midir.

"My Lord."
Curcurbita bowed so low his head leafs almost brushed the marble floor.
"I am honoured to be invited to this most excellent of Balls. You have outdone yourself in all style and I stand before you utterly unworthy of your good graces!"

He did not rise when he was done, he did not presume to have the permission.

Midir
 
Hyacinth rarely wore clothing, and she declined it even still despite there being other fae afoot. It wasn't uncommon for fae to go undressed, and she always felt constricted by garments. The Spring fae had come because of the rumblings that had been heard throughout her own court. Her own King and prince were utterly distracted by it all. She felt a keen sense of closeness to Tharu and had the utmost desire to keep her court safe, even if it meant putting aside her gentle demeanor to defend it.

Vines twisted over her naked flesh; flowers adorned her long brown curls. Tonight would be a mixture of events and she wondered what would become of the decisions made here. She was no fool, by the end of this, she and everyone else would know exactly who stood where.

None too familiar to her, as she rarely left the net of her own court, she sincerely hoped Tharu had been sent along. At least with him, she could hold a conversation. She also hoped that he hadn't spoke to his father about her small trespasses in Nairth's chamber. That would be quite embarrassing. For now, she decided to study the other fae, The Erlking certainly stuck out. The pumpkin headed one as well. Maybe she should look for a drink?

Maybe she should have just stayed home.
 
Rarely did invitations from other courts find their way to the Day Court, but as of late, many letters were sent to her cousin and Queen, Gwynevere and most went unanswered. Until more and more came did her cousin think it best to sort a delegation to visit these courts.

Despite training and learning how best to serve her home Court, Yvoire was the best suited for the job. None knew the Queen better than her, and so it was trusted in the princess and heir to speak with these other Courts and learn more about them.

The beginning of her journey would start here, in the Court of Autumn and celebration of the Summer Solstice.


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Her first appearance as ambassador of the Day Court was important in the way she interacted with others, and looking the part. Dressed in sheer black, a dress cut and styled on her person that covered enough flesh, but showed off her frame all the same. Yvoire hummed to herself as she took a glass offered to her.

Gwyn said she would make an effort to attend, but Yvoire had no correspondence to confirm such an arrangement. She had never left the Day Court, and now, she stood amongst strangers.
 
'Are these things always so tense?'

"Why do you think I used to drink so much?.." he murmured quietly to his mate, his eyes a dark gold as they shifted from face to face, his shadows shifting at his feet. He let loose a reluctant laugh, trying to school his expression into something more relaxed as Maeve poked at his side. "Sorry.." he swallowed. "I would prefer that people stop staring at you like that." he added quietly.

He hated gatherings, though given this one at least had a purpose, one he was very much involved in, he had little choice but to be here. This time, with his mate beside him, he found himself even more tense than he had done at those many thousand soirees before. At least at those he had been able to get himself shit-faced and do whatever he could to piss his father off. He had masks to wear, then. A reputation to uphold. Something terrible. Something that could live up to his father's name.

Now, he was simply himself. The Autumn Prince, a Fae so wrought with fury, fear and paranoia for now he had something so indescribably precious to lose, and already he almost had done, twice. Equally, however, was he soothed by her presence. Moreso was he so endlessly in love with the breathtaking female by his side that he would fight to control those emotions, that he would try every day to be better than he was, for her sake. He had lost control once again, and again she had taken him back. Unfortunately, there was no way back from the path he had taken. That which led to war.

He looked down at Maeve as she led him away, his gaze falling on the scars upon her back, a muscle feathering in his jaw at the sight. Nothing about her could ever repulse him. She was undeniably stunning, she always would be, but they were the ever poignant reminder that he had failed to protect her. As though he had not hated himself enough, as though she had not felt traumatised enough, and yet she had agreed to his father's insistence to show off the marks that Summer had left on her.

A deep sigh tumbled free of his chest as he tugged her back to him and slipped his arm around her shoulder, keeping her close as they walked amongst the guests and resisting the urge to slip his jacket over her shoulders if only to make her feel less vulnerable. "Are you alright?" he asked her gently, his fingers brushing attentively over the swirling marks of starlight that permanently painted her skin.

"And.. I think I've only told you a few times tonight, but, you look fucking radiant." he whispered with a grin.
 
Sid dressed up well. General Insignia on the jacket of his uniform. Formal attire at odds with the usual twinkle in his eyes and smirk on his lips.

Black wings were tucked in tight behind his muscular back. Those of the court gave him a healthy amount of space.

“Yes and you look very pretty, too, Lorcy.” Sid chipped in to his brother and Maeve. It was a distraction. A comment meant to get a rise or eye roll out of his brother. To keep his mind off things.

There was once a time he might have not understood the bond Lorcan had with Maeve. But now with Lori. He still hadn’t told his brothers. He suspected at least one of them already knew.

Hazels snapped to the entrance as he visibly stiffened. A moment of darkness seeping off his wings before it drew back.

“Trouble incoming.”
 
Glendora, Princess of the Night Court, strode into the ball as herself. No mask. No illusion this time. The whispers started like a spark, quickly spreading a wildfire. Looks of fear, hatred, and admiration snagged on the willowy fae. With eyes as luminous as the gorged moon above, she ignored them all.

She and Oakley had talked about this. What it would mean. Even now, by his scent, she knew he was nearby. Even if tonight marked the culmination of events, things had been set in motion for hundreds of years.

Fae parted for her like water ushered in the wake of a kelpy army until she stood in front of the prince and princess of the Autumn Court. And the General that looked ready to rip her throat out.

Cold, astute gaze swept slowly over the redhead. Then shifted to Lorcan. “The rumors appear to be true. Tell me, what is vengeance worth to you? And what assurances can your court be prepared to offer those who come to your aide?”

Tides were shifting within her own court. Things not even those here knew about yet. It was time to make a move against her brothers.
 
At least the trouble Lorcán had caused with the Summer court had superseded the trouble he'd found himself in in the Night Court. That he'd been there at all. He'd been called, everyone had, and as much as it'd pained him to leave Ora, ignoring the Erlking's call was never a good idea.

Oakley was being far better behaved than he had been at his last soirees and hunts. Tables of alcohol and barely-dressed females had very much been his idea of a good night, and yet now, his eyes did not linger on any of them. Now, his mind was stuck on one, every minute of every day. One who insisted on torturing him with her rejections, and he quietly pined for her presence.

Small talk was made as he caught up with old friends, he greeted the Prince and his mate, the former giving him a hesitant smile in the place of his usual scowl. That Oakley had been closer to Midir than his own son, had never sat well with the Prince, but tonight, it seemed, Lorcán too was on his best behaviour. He made his way back to Midir's side, a cup of wine in hand and his pale eyes drifting lazily over the room.

He felt her presence before he saw her, before she had swept into the room and commanded its attention. She had his. Always. His brows rose, his posture straightening as he took a step toward her and stopped himself, watching as she made her way toward the Prince and his mate, his eyes darting warily to Midir as the whispers of the Night Court Princess spread across the room.
 
Her father had only just taken his final breath and already Gwynevere was being pestered by people whom she had never met and never wished to meet. Letters had been passed off to Yvoire who had been prepared for hundreds of years on how to handle the job she’d been born into. Gwynevere, however, had never been much more than the family runt. Left entirely on her own, she’d done well enough to hone herself into a weapon, but she had never learned how to act like a queen. Every day, she thanked the gods that Yvoire had been gifted with a silver tongue and that the girl seemed eager to experience life beyond the marble walls of The Day Court.

“Cousin.” A porcelain hand grasped Yvoire’s exposed shoulder and pulled her to meet a pair of purple eyes.

For a moment she looked her cousin up and down, and nodded in approval at her choice of attire. She herself dressed perhaps too modestly, showing very little skin in a long sleeved deep-purple gown whose collar covered much of her slender neck. The only hint that there was a body underneath the fabric was the tight white and gold jeweled corset that almost seemed more armor than clothing. She donned no crown for the occasion.

“You look timorous, Yvoire. Were you afraid I would not attend as I promised?” She herself looked on edge, but she cracked a smile in the presence of the only familiar face and quite possibly the only friendly face here. Her gaze drifted over the other fae, noting the faces and how many interacted with one another. She had never felt quite so isolated and wished for nothing more than to return home.

"How long until it is socially acceptable to leave?" She murmured, one hand gripping her cousin's for reassurance.

Yvoire
 
Nairth San' Seya had already made his position on the inevitable clash between Summer and Autumn expressly clear to Midir. The Spring Court had pledged its allegiance to The Erlking long before Lorcan had made his preemptive strike against the Queen's Castle, and The Spring King had already had extensive conversations with Autumn's ruler before this decisive evening.

For the moment, Nairth's attentions were elsewhere, focused on finally snuffing out the troublesome plague that had threatened his own court. Being that his stance was already decided, he'd opted not to attend the Solstice Ball. Even so, it would be rather taboo to not be present at the gathering of an ally, so instead he had sent his son Tharu, The Prince, to represent their court.

Tharu was beginning to wonder if he'd made a mistake in accepting this duty, not like he'd had much of a choice.

Even his Father had bemoaned to him how easy it was to get distracted during these parties, and he was one of the most powerful and commanding figures that Tharu had ever known. If Nairth could get lost in the shuffle amongst these beautiful and mighty Fae attending the party this evening, what chance did he stand? He was Duanann, but he was young, unrefined, and lacking in the confidence that usually came with a title such as his.

He scarcely knew any of these people, let alone spoken to them. Tharu had seen Maeve, somebody who he did have a pleasant history with, but she was with Lorcan, as was to be expected. The Prince had little desire to interject upon Autumn's equivalent to him.

As he scanned the growing crowd, he felt rather underdressed. Not because he wasn't wearing much, but because compared to the incredible outfits he saw on some of his peers, he was rather ordinary. Well, except for...

Wait, wasn't that...?

"Lady Hyacinth!" Tharu smiled as he approached her, thanking the Gods above he'd found somebody from his own court to converse with. She was still as bare as the day she was born, but after their initial encounter, that wasn't nearly as striking to him. "What a pleasant surprise! I'm glad you've made it!"

Hyacinth
 
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Baise had left Jude with a trusted party. Not spending much of his time among the few social circles, he didn't have a sense of how this would be playing out.

Baise also did not know if he would be here. Such a split between Master and Warlock was very rare, but theirs had been spectacular.

After paying his respect to the Erkling, he moved for a glass of wine. Tonight he would learn a lot about the movements within the fae courts.
 
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 was on everyone's lips with an almost feverish glee. He had already received intelligence from Raphael that the Summer armies marched, no doubt such news had reached the other Kings and Queens of the courts. It was no longer a question of if war would break out but rather when first blood would be drawn.

As the Night Court Princess swept into the room Midir couldn't help but wonder if it would be tonight.

"Bold," he murmured to his friend who had gone rigid at his side. "First her brothers general at the Hunt and now this," Midir had not put his usual ban on the Night Court from attending, not with war on the horizon and allies needed, but his dislike of them was well known. It was he after all who had thrown out their first king for his blood thirsty ways in the Hunt.

"For the Lightssake, Oakley., control yourself. It looks as though you mean to tackle her."
 
Maeve gave an un-lady like snort at Sid's comment but the smile she gave her mate was one filled with warmth, if a little mischief.

"Yes, very pretty," she echoed and offered him one of the goblets of fae wine she had just scooped off the table. She hadn't even managed to take a sip to steel her nerves when Sid uttered his warning. She turned in the direction he was looking and tensed. The woman's eyes were cold enough to cut flesh. Maeve had to steel her spine to keep from cringing back at the power pulsing against her skin. She had dealt with the Erlking, another royal couldn't be too bad. Right?

The princess winced at her first question.
 
"How long until it is socially acceptable to leave?"
Yvoire kept herself from snorting, taking comfort in her cousin's similar train of thought to her own. "I am afraid a little longer yet. We were sent summons from the Erlking himself, although I do not know if you are here to entertain the call for aid in this looming war."

A choice she left to her queen cousin.

The Princess of the Day Court now cast her icy gaze again to those arriving. Of course, she could hazard a guess who was who, but she could not be the one to approach them until she knew more just by observing them. "Remind me, cousin, how many of these other Courts present had sent you congratulations on your new ascension as Queen of the Day?"

The Day Court had always proved to be self reliant, far removed from any grievances between the other Courts, but now Yvoire had suggested to Gwynevere it was best to see who existed beyond their own perfect home.
 
A dimple appeared in Lorcan's cheek at Sid's comment, though he fought the easy grin he often wore in his brother's presence. Sid was the General of his father's army, Raph, his father's enforcer, both had a reputation as terrible as Lorcan did, they were each as brutal as the other, each a force to be reckoned with, but together and amongst friends, the three were just.. brothers.

He had no time to respond before the blizzard that was the Night Court Princess swept into the room, and Lorcan's blood instantly chilled. He cast a quick look toward his father, and then watched as the female, flanked by her personal guard, approached him. The Prince took hold of Maeve's hand, keeping her close at his side, but he did not shield her. She did not need shielding.

Lorcan allowed Glendora to say her piece before allowing a slight smile to curl at his lips. His chin dipped in a more formal greeting than the female had afforded him, but it was his impression that mattered, not hers. "Princess Glendora. Welcome.." his throat cleared.

He knew why she was here, and it had far less to do with supporting Autumn in their war and more to do with the very fact that it was she who was here at all, and not her brothers. Their feud was no secret. The treatment of females in the Night Court never sat well with him. She may have worn a crown to go with that title but when it came to her brothers, Glendora had no power, nor would she ever. She was here to wage her own war, she had certainly not come on either of her brothers' say so. He knew her plight, what she wanted, and he would choose his words carefully.

The Prince thumb brushed over Maeve's knuckles, the tension in his shoulders loosening slightly as he forced a cool smile that met his eyes in the effort of showing his understanding. "I will answer your questions, Princess, though once I do so, I invite you and yours to enjoy some refreshments.."

"Vengeance.." he began slowly, "Is the promise that no harm will go unanswered. It's the echo of justice in a world where balance is often skewed. It is not merely an act of retribution; it is a statement of resilience and resolve. It is the fire that burns within, ensuring that those who dare to harm us know the price they must pay."

He paused, his voice lowering slightly as he continued, "It's the assurance that no injustice, no cruelty, will ever be forgotten. It's a commitment to ensuring that my mate’s scars are not just marks of suffering but symbols of our unbreakable will."

Lorcan's gaze flickered to Maeve, then back to Glendora. "It means that every strike against us is met with the fury of our combined strength, and every wound inflicted becomes a rallying cry for justice. It is the unwavering vow that we will rise, stronger and more determined, until those who wronged us are brought to their knees."

With that, he held Glendora's gaze a moment longer, letting the intensity of his words sink in, before finally adding, "And it is that very fire that fuels our fight, and that fire will see us through to victory. But this is no longer about vengeance."

He knew that his own vengeance was selfish, that his actions had ensured that war was indefinite. But it had not been he who had struck the flint, only he who had answered with fire. This was now about suffocating the flames before they spread across the realms and destroyed the balance they strived for.

"Support us, Princess, and your assurance is a strong ally and safe haven. If not here, then on Endora. I will permit you land there, somewhere for the vulnerable to live in safety. I am sure my mate would be happy to tell you more about it. Might I introduce our Princess, Maeve." he said, lifting Maeve's hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. Females were treated differently here, who better to convince the Night Court Princess of that, who better to thaw the ice that clung to the female than his mate?
 
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There was no need for an army of kelpies when the Princess' Dark Horse followed in her wake.

Micha stalked her shadow like a faithful hound, violet eyes flickering from one fae face to the next, noting the faces he knew through whispers and stories and those who had not been worth the mention. Those tell-tale eyes lingered on the Erlking for a brief moment before giving the smallest of inclinations of the head to show the minimal amount of respect he could get away with without being executed. His eyes then fell upon the male by his side, the only one in attendance other than his Princess that he had met in the flesh.

His lips pulled back from his teeth in a silent warning. Glendora had not gone into the specifics of what the other man had done, only that he had upset her which was more than enough for Micha to have placed him high up on his list of males he did not like.

The kelpie didn't bother to wait for a response, rudely away and turning his attention to the Prince and Princess with whom his charge spoke with now. Glendora had managed to persuade him not to bring a weapon to the Solstice but Micha was still dressed for the war the attendees seemed to be pretending was not happening for tonight. Scaled armour rippled off him like water droplets, the dark hues of black and blue and the darkest of purples shimmering with every movement. He settled for crossing his arms over his chest to keep from groping for a sword hilt that wasn't there.

At least his demonic sister was not in attendance tonight.
 
There were so many fae here that Hyacinth did not know, though it seemed to trouble her little. It had been a long time since she had been out in society amongst fae, but that was purely because she was such an attendant to flora, that the movings of others mattered to her. Tharu had sort of changed her mind set on this. interacting with him had made her realized that she had been quite out of touch, and now she was fully paying attention.

She had picked up a mulled wine, twisting the glass in her hand as she studied it. She had been lost in thought when a familiar voice called her name, and she perked up with bright eyes to locate its source. Her eyes lit up as the fell upon Tharu's approach, and she quickly set down her glass.

A bright smile was on her lips as she took both his hands in hers. "Prince Tharu! I'm so happy to see someone I know. I admit I was feeling a little out of place in all this grandeur." She released her light grip of his hands, her smile never faltering as she looked out upon all the opposing figures that surrounded them. "I have no idea how to strike up a conversation I fear."

Tharu San'Seya
 
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Reactions: Glendora and Yvoire
With the acknowledgement of the Erlking and with it permission to even exist in his presence Curcurbita made his way down the great steps of his throne and into the crowd, most of which he towered over.
"Hello."
"Nice to see you!"
"War, what?"

The whole scene was very perturbing. Many great and glorious folk were there but there was a terrible cloud hanging over the proceedings. He knew nothing of the Summer Courts violations and crimes against the other courts though the assembled wasted not time listing grievances.

To escape this he found himself gravitating to the Night Court entourage which he listened in on and laughed openly about.
"Glendora, Glendora the Princess of Night.
Hides from her brother's in the Erlking's sight.
Older or Younger which rule do you choose?
Whomever should win, she is surely to lose!"

His tallness loomed over the group, not needing to enter as he could see each one well.
"Beware the gifts spoken in times of strife Princess, you never know what true intentions lay beneath."
His hollow eyes went to Lorcan and he smiled.
"But I'm sure your offer of sanctuary extends to when the newly crowned kinslayer comes aknocking for his sister. Right?"
The great gourde tilted sideways at his last word and his smile grew wider.

Glendora
Micha
Lorcán
 
Chrys wandered around, simply observing the outfits that seemed so much harder to put together than his rather basic blue suit (In pfp). There was a rather humanish looking man in a nice eagle themed forest-y green getup, and a lady who had chosen not to wear anything at all. It was rather funny how little that bothered him or anyone else as it were, but there were other things to focus on. A mean looking Kelpie had entered in garb that essentially refused to play the little game of civility everyone had bowed to for this event, even himself, which he respected due to how dangerous such a game was to play when the Erlking was your potential opponent.

Chrys could deign a guess as to what was on his mind, that being the looming war spoken about in the upper circles. A confrontation between the Autumn and Summer Courts were a valid concern that would put a damper on anyone, but for the observant Animal Lover it mattered not. The two groups could tear each other to pieces and he would only act if his hand was forced. Things had been going well thus far, so if those in his home wanted to act on long-overdue retribution or whatever it seemed stupid to put one's own self at risk for nothing to gain. Should the Autumn Court win, there would continue to be parties and time-wasting and The Erlking would simply keep his power over everyone.

Functionally, nothing would change, and Chrys was quite alright with that. If not, he would simply go back to his forest and watch the world burn until he was probably killed or something. The thought of such an outcome, however, must have unconsciously hit the last non-apathetic part of his soul because he chose to make the most of the night if something like that were to commence in the future.

That probably started with talking to someone, which he wasn't very great at doing. Suddenly, he noticed that there were still drinks around and decided to get one of those first, realizing that perhaps he would be slightly more amicable to chatting with a dose of liquid stupidity in his system. Finding a server and drinking the wine wasn’t too hard, still tasted terrible even so, but the whole thing reminded him exactly why he had come up with such a plan: The fun side-effects.

Anxiety slightly muffled and mind slightly muddled, he once again found the green suitcoat of the human-looking man and observed him for a second, suddenly realizing the man actually WAS a human. Well, that in itself wasn’t too surprising, given that humans often tangled with the Fae in one way or another, but how had one gotten in here? That seemed like an entertaining little tale to hear. Attempting to deposit his now empty cup back upon another server’s tray and shrugging as it fell to the ground and broke, Chrys would pace through the crowd until he found his latest distraction newest potential acquaintance.

Approaching, he would suddenly seem to sober up at the epiphany that he had literally no idea what to talk about. “Heya. Are you a fan of eagles? Majestic fellows, them.” There, a totally normal and not at all weird opener. Chrys himself had quite a few bird friends, including a crow that only spoke in expletives (that one was his favorite).

Baise
 
Sid was thankful for his brother's way with words. He was used to controlling armies. Barking out orders. And flirting with many-a-female and taking them easily to bed, well before. Before Lori.

And while Maeve certainly didn't need shielding, Sid still found his muscles tensing with a half step in front of the princess and his friend. His attention fully on the kelpie guard at her side. One predator to another.

And then then Curcurbita spoke.

A visible wince.

"Oh hells," a mutter beneath his breath.

But he did not move from his post away from Lorcan or Maeve. While the jack-o-lantern had a mouth bigger than a banshee he wasn't the biggest threat.
 
Luminous eyes watched the subtle interactions between the Autumn Prince and Princess. As if a cat suddenly found a certain curiosity with the mice it was about to consume. He was not a complete fool and for that she found a certain relief. And when he said mate...

Glendora couldn't help the shifting flicker of her gaze across the sea of faces to find a particular set of light eyes. She held Oakley's gaze for a moment too long before they found their way back.

"I..."

And then the talking tall-pumpkin thing. Was this how the Autumn Court was run? Another in her brother's court wouldn't dream of such an outcry at an event because not only would they be killed. So would their families and all who associated with them.

Before the gourd finished, Glendora snapped her fingers. As if light were being borrowed from the moon itself, the radiance filled Glendora's eyes and flashed in a dome-like area around herself, Micha, Lorcan, Maeve, and the puca.

Sounds from the rest of the party were muffled if not completely silenced for their little group. Those wanting to get to any of them would find hard air and resistance. Those inside who wished to leave would be able to do so. With a little effort.

Glen's ethereal eyes shifted briefly to her guard, a silent command to make sure they were not interrupted again. Then back to Lorcan and Maeve.

"My interests do not lie in these lands but elsewhere. Perhaps Princess Maeve and I can come to an agreement. Then you would each have my support." She knew Lorcan would know what that meant and which support it did not mean.

"But I must know. Many will die. Are you both prepared for those losses?" Death was no stranger in the Night Court. And while Autumn upheld balance with the Hunts, war was altogether a different beast. One she had been born into, lived, breathed, and slept in. She did not need to make an alliance with a youthful generation who would only crumble at the first sign of trouble. Who may have an idealistic view of what winning any war would truly mean.
 
Pride swelled in Maeve's chest as she listened to Lorcan's words. He may have griped and groaned over his fathers plan but he was selling the story well. Her fingers brushed the back of his hand then slid into his to give it a gentle squeeze when he mentioned her scars. She saw the way they made his eyes darken when he saw or spoke of them. Even when her body finally accepted its new immortality and smoothed them all away she knew he would still see them in his mind.

She had thought it was all going rather well, even if the Night Princess scared her, when a talking pumpkin wandered over. Maeve gaped at him. She had seen many unusual fae during the last year with Lorcan but a pumpkin?! Suddenly she felt terrible for all the pumpkins she had scooped out and turned into pie.

Were all pumpkins fae?!

Oh Fiadhs Light.

Suddenly a dome rose around them and Sid shifted until he all but blocked Glendora from view. Maeve tensed, trusting the General who saw a threat before most people did. That kelpie was certainly a threat and now she was trapped in a dome with him. Her breathing hitched as panic clawed its way up her throat and she fought with it.

I'm free. This isn't a cage. This is not a chain.

Starlight began to flicker over her skin.

"What kind of deal?" she tilted her head to the side, feigning control over her rising panic.
 
His pulse had quickened. His senses sharpened, had honed in on her.

'For the Lightssake, Oakley., control yourself. It looks as though you mean to tackle her.'


He tried to roll loose the tension in his shoulders. "Just, hadn't expected any Night Courtiers here, especially not the royal ones.." he commented, unable to shake the strain in his voice.

His pale eyes shifted, catching the gaze of Micha and his jaw tightened. "Is that fucking fish, snarling at me?.." he rumbled lowly. "If you wish me to remove him, just say the word." he said to Midir, dearly hoping for the opportunity to rip the sneer from the kelpie's face. Too close. He was always too close to her.

The rage on his face paused, everything paused when he caught her attention, when she looked straight at him, acknowledged his fucking existence. And then it was over, and the fucking pumpkin had caused her to shield herself.

His hand speared into his hair with an exasperated huff. "Why are you never even the slightest bit on edge?" he griped at his friend as he flopped into a chair and snatched his drink.
 
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“Heya. Are you a fan of eagles? Majestic fellows, them.” There, a totally normal and not at all weird opener. Chrys himself had quite a few bird friends, including a crow that only spoke in expletives (that one was his favorite).

One eyebrow quirked upwards.

"A fan of eagles? curious choice of phrase. Majestic indeed, though I have always preferred to watch a falcon in flight. Lighter, more direct."

Baise found himself drawn into a peculiar sort of conversation, but it was far from the strangest of his experiences in the fae realms. He glanced around, gaze briefly drawn by the dark and looming keplie that walked in the wake of the Night Princess. Baise liked to think that he had learned to keep himself out of the most obvious danger. That required a careful choice of words when engaging any fae in conversation and keeping his wandering gaze to himself.

"Falcons are silent and swift. Less annoying that some noisy birds."

At that comment, he felt a little flutter of protest at the back of his mind.