Private Tales South for the Winter

[Paetr]

"Would you mind? I am writing my heart a letter and you continue to complain without telling me what I need to know."

After Paetr's brief tirade it became more quiet. The constant slow drip of water onto stalagmites below and a muffled whimper.

"There!"

Paetr signed the scroll with a flourish. One of his staff would almost certainly make him re-write some sections. He slowly stood up from behind the table. He walked towards his captive.

“Did you know that this is a common human trick for entertainment?” Paetr asked. “I don’t enjoy this. Well… I do enjoy this but using iron is so…”

Paetr came to stand over the Sidhe. He grimaced.

“It’s very crude.”

The sidhe was lying on a long bed of long, rusty iron nails. He had been captured by Paetr’s agents deep in northern territories. The winds were changing, Paetr could feel it. He didn’t want to be carried along with those winds, he wanted to master them. He wanted to shape his own destiny.

“All I want to know is exactly how Tulok moves around Tatkret. I know you’re part of his inner council and know his movements. It’s such a simple question.”

The sidhe, to his credit, managed to lift his head and spit at Paetr.

“Dissapointing.”

Paetr wanted to end the war with a master stroke. A bold assassination. If Saang Lusce ended up being the one to finish the war, then Paetr would never hear the end of it. Whilst he knew several ways to keep the Lord from using his mouth, they had hundreds of years for it to be lorded over him.

The war would stall as the weather changed. If he didn’t carry out his plan, the the southern forces would eventually grind out a victory but he wouldn’t get to take the glory himself.

The bed was formed of heavy wood. Wearing thick leather gloves, the torturer crawled beneath it and pulled a handful more nails free. They had repeated this process, removing more nails such that the remaining ones held more of the victim’s weight. Each time they applied more pressure. A fae could barely stand the touch of iron.

Paetr stepped closer. He pressed both his hands to a slab of stone lying across their captive’s chest.

The sidhe screamed. The nails finally broke his skin. Iron pushing into his back, into the backs of his legs.

Paetr stepped back. Of all those from Tulok’s inner circle, he had to find the one with some loyalty and a spine.

“Shit,” he spat. He knew he wasn’t going to break his resolve.

“Glove.” Paetr took the leather glove and picked up a particularly long nail. It was a typical execution method for those disgraced to have a nail driven into the back of the spine for a quick death.

“Disappointing,” he repeated as he took up a hammer and pressed the point of the nail to the front of his throat. Normally it was delivered from behind in front of a crowd of witnesses, but Paetr was in a bad mood.

---

Dearest Seryn Lusce ,

The weather has slowed the war. Whilst this brings much frustration as my plans for a decisive end have not played out, this brings opportunity.

I may travel east and attend some events should Queen Mab see fit to tolerate my presence.

Perhaps it is time, in spite of my troubling news, to make our courting known?

Paetr

 

[Seryn Lusce]

"Be still, my lady!"

Seryn exhaled slowly and did so, staring at her reflection in the mirror she stood before. Her maid was finishing the stitching to her sleeves of a dress she intended to wear for upcoming events. When she had received word that Paetr intended to visit the Winter Court, she had hastened the staff to make preparations. Her sisters did not bother to become excited, not when they were fast becoming used to seeing him around every now and then to see Seryn.

"Make sure the stitching is consistent, I cannot risk my sleeves to catch and unravel." Licking her lips, she resisted falling into the habit of chewing at them. They would not keep soft by the time he arrived, and she intended on being perfect once he does call on her.

There was a Winter Fête happening in the town nearest to where the Lusce sisters resided, and in her reply to Paetr's first letter she had suggested they take a night to experience the carnival games and ice skating.

She had already designed and made the complete outfit for that outing, that it was not elegant and beautiful a gown made for a Court ball, but a simple cloak made of midnight that reminded her of him. Her dress would be simple, but warm, and a great deal of ease when she would accompany him for ice skating.

"Do not fret, my lady. This is the last thing before the Lord arrives this afternoon."

"I know." She insisted softly, still staring at her reflection. It was perfect, clean, and her hair fell in loose waves down her back. "It has to be perfect so that I hope to take his mind off of the war stalling once again."

And she knew how she could do just that on the carriage ride into town.

 

[Paetr]

"My lord, remember that we are far from home and decorum is..."

"Yes, yes," Paetr replied. His patience had been worn thin by all the talk of Winter Court politics and customs.

He turned to his left to be confronted by a stone face.

"Fuck Aeron, five paces. You'll scare the lot of them. Make it ten paces."

His weapons master was a tall, stoic creature. She barely spoke, steadfastly refused to let him fuck her but was a demon with any kind of weapon. He shooed her back.

"Go on, one of you make yourselves useful and knock on the door and announce me."

 

[Seryn Lusce]

This time, she would not be rushing to meet Paetr like she had many times before.

No, today she would be in a sitting room, waiting for him with some tea to drink before they make their way to the winter fête. She would look perfect, like a true lady she was born to be.

Her maid would open the doors and curtsy before the Night Court Lord, inviting him and his entourage inside before moving ahead and guiding him to the sitting room that was prepared for their arrival. Seryn beamed, standing as soon as she saw the Lord that had captured her heart enter the room. Her feet moved her forward, her hands brushing at the skirt of her dress and making a curtsy before him. Seryn did not stand straight until he asked her to.

"Lord Paetr, always a pleasure to see you." She would say as she rose, flicking her eyes to peer up at the taller fae through her lashes.

Distance had made things impossibly hard, but Seryn felt as if she fell in love with him over and over each time they met. As if there was something new to make her infatuated and affectionate of Paetr.

 

[Paetr]

"Lady Seryn, my heart," he replied. He was not one to hold his feelings and intentions deep down. He desires were strong and as unpredictable as the northern storms. He saw no reason to hide them from those beneath him.

Those beneath him, who he dismissed with a wave. His entourage could take tea somewhere else. Only his weapon master lingered for a moment, eyeing the drapes as if they hid assassins.

His control was only strong enough to restrict his expressions of adoration to a few short words.

"I missed you a great deal. It has been cold and lonely in the north. But... You do not need to hear of these things yet. We should sit!"

Some of the intensity in his gaze mellowed. His expression was suddenly that of an excitable puppy who had been left without his favourite game for far too long.

 

[Seryn Lusce]

Only when they were given privacy did she hold out her hands for him to take so that she could gently guide him to the plush sofa she had been occupying before. She pulled him by the hands to lean closer, delivering a sweet kiss to his cheek before releasing.

"And yet I always want to hear about you." Seryn assured him. Turning, she poured both of them cups of tea, the pot still hot from her affinity with fire. After asking if he wanted a sugar cube or milk in his tea, she would present him with his prepared cup and then picking up her own and setting it back on the saucer she kept on her lap. "Have you seen Saang recently? Any mention of when... well, about our... the engagement?"

 

[Paetr]

"I'm afraid I have not seen him. The war reaches a point where one of us will find a way to strike the final blow."

He blew gently across the surface of his tea. A ripple of ice on his breath that caused steam to rise. He smiled and took a sip before setting the saucer down.

"Oh," he feigned, leaning forwards. "You have something..."

He reached up to set the palm of his hand beneath his chin and swiped his thumb across her lower lip.

"Better." There had been nothing but perfectly drawn colour across her lip, but he needed to touch her.

"Nothing against your fine brother but I was hoping to strike the blow before the weather turned. Frustratingly I have failed."

 

[Seryn Lusce]

Her breath was stolen the moment he gently held her chin and his thumb brushed over her lip. Just as easy as that did he disarm her, and Seryn found herself leaning towards him. Completely enamoured with him, she was careful not to do anything untoward if anyone was to catch her.

They were courting, and even as the fate of her wedding to Paetr was in the hands of her father, that did not dissuade the Lord seated beside her. A long courtship was seen as favourable to those that cared about such a thing, but Seryn also did not want to disappoint Saang any further than her frequent letters asking if he had met with their father yet.

"Perhaps it is not a failure, dearest Paetr." Seryn donned a charming smile, all for him to bask in. "But an opportunity. Allow them this chance to think they have the upper hand, but once that weather settles, you are free to overwhelm their forces." Over all their letters, Seryn began to piece together enough knowledge and understanding to allow her a basic depth of conversation with Paetr. She believed in all of his capabilities, and liked to think the love she always wrote to him with was enough to strengthen him and embolden his forces.

 

[Paetr]

He was glad that he still had her under his spell. Not a single spark of ley magic between them and he could have such an effect with a single touch. The only danger was that it was difficult to keep his hands to himself.

"An excellent observation," he offered. He knew that she was trying to provide solace after a difficult campaign. His gaze remained fixed upon her lips.

"I was, however, hoping to deal the final blow before you brother. Do not take this the wrong way I love the...man," Paetr said. He was very pleased with himself for not using an insult that would make the innocent young fae blush.

"But if he ends the war then he gets to dictate the terms of what happens to the Night Court. I can live with that, or course. There is just less glory."

 

[Seryn Lusce]

Seryn delighted in having this conversation with Paetr in the flesh. Her hands made sure to envelop his and hold it between their touching legs, as if she needed to remind herself this was real, and that she was not dreaming of him like she usually had in the past while they had been apart.

"How lucky I am to root for both my brother and you, dearest Paetr." She smiled. "For if either of you win, I win also. To see a victory by either of your hands would be remarkable."

And she knew how he liked to celebrate. Her cheeks blushed at the mere thought.

 

[Paetr]

"Yes, you are right. Perhaps that is just my vanity speaking. I should consider that I could have the war over, and you in my home as my wife."

He smiled at that thought. Nothing would ever hold his attention forever. He always needed a hunt or some great game to keep his mind entertained.

He imagined that a few years of honeymoon would certainly be a pleasant change of pace from the war that had gone from a glorious melee to exhausted troops trudging over the tundra.

"You would like that, I assume?" he asked with just a hint of a smile.

 

[Seryn Lusce]

It took willpower and more not to immediately answer him, but Seryn could not fight the large, happy smile that graced her lips. It was her unprompted response, but finally her lips began to move to answer him. "I want nothing more to be your's, Paetr... And to be your wife and lady would make me the happiest I could ever be."

He had opened a world to her that she never experienced, emotions and feelings that just craved for more and him, but the future she could have was just there...

But the war needed to come to an end.

He was right. Saang was right. He only wished his sister to be safe and protected once married, and living amidst a war was no place for a reputable lady such as herself.

"Perhaps... we should pretend we are wedded tonight. A dream we can dream, one we can pretend is reality just for tonight?" The Winter Fête had been a celebration she adored when attending last, and she could not wait to show Paetr all of it through her eyes.

 

[Paetr]

They refused to lie and yet deception were the greatest game of all. It was just the way that they were. The courts varied in their morale codes and customs, but they all played their games.

Paetr leaned into the space between them. He slowly canted his head to one side. There was something decidedly feline in the movement. A predatory cat checking if it had seen prey. He released her hand and placed his gently on her knee, thumb running over the fabric of her dress.

"Do you want it to be known at the fete that we are courting, or do you just want me to treat you as if you belong to me when we return?"

 

[Seryn Lusce]

Paetr was a thief! One that knew the art of stealing one's breath.

And yet that excited her. Seryn still had to peer up to see his gaze, see how they blazed just for her and left her lips parting as the breath caught in her throat. There was a light yet audible sound, her mind now in a frenzy of choosing either option he posed towards her.

But Paetr was also the one to teach her that she could have it all. When such a realisation came across her mind, he would be able to see the innocence shift to determination as she wet her lips and softly answered him.

"Both."

She wanted her happiness, walking side by side with him, but also the heat he brought her that even her own affinity to fire could not match.

 

[Paetr]

An eyebrow arched. Maybe Saang had known what he was doing when he kept this sister of his in check. His ego knew no bounds, but he had to wonder if she would have an insatiable thirst for power that could consume him.

That would be quite a wonderful way to leave this existence, he thought to himself.

"Then you will have both and tomorrow it will be known by the Winter Court that you are mine and it will be known by the household staff that you are sore."

"So tell me, what of the event this evening and it's entertainment?"

 

[Seryn Lusce]

Her heart skipped a beat, as if it already began attempts to attach itself to him wholly.

Seryn's cheeks burned pink, but something else burned with a passion awakened by the Lord before her.

"They have ice skating, and mulled wine." She began, leaning forward and dancing with the chance a maid could walk through those doors at any moment. Let them whisper about Seryn, let them giggle and pretend not to notice. The Lusce lady wanted them to idolise her for courting the Night Court Lord. "And a carousel. It is enchanted, almost as if... hm... think of a maypole but... I have not been able to ride it yet, and perhaps if you wish, you could join me?"

Courting. That was what couples did at events like this.

Seryn angled her head so that her lips brushed the corner of his. "One request, my Paetr? For... tonight. Come through my window again..."

 

[Paetr]

"And a carousel. It is enchanted, almost as if... hm... think of a maypole but... I have not been able to ride it yet, and perhaps if you wish, you could join me?"

"I cannot picture such a thing, but I look forward to it," Paetr said eagerly. He was easily impressed by unique ideas and artistic pursuits. As long as they did not require a great degree of patience to appreciate.

"One request, my Paetr? For... tonight. Come through my window again..."

Paetr leaned back and smiled.

"Are you asking," he started boldly, "because you require my company or does that particular image interest you?"

"Do not answer," he said quietly, proud of himself for avoiding any crude comments. "I will do as you ask, but perhaps the party will not hold my attention as much as it should. When do we depart?"

 

[Seryn Lusce]

Still, Paetr had stolen her breath with surprise. Her cheeks went red, but he had agree to her request.

The events of him entering her room that first time had been something she thought over and over about. He had gently showed her the discovery of what she had been feeling, all in thanks to him and their attraction. She wanted him to claim her the same way again, sneaking into her room unseen and having all his claim of her being.

They were to wed one day, mating bond or no.

"If we leave now, it may be quiet enough to enjoy the festivities before it fills up with others." She cleared her throat and made to stand. Smoothing her skirts, as she did so and smiled at Paetr. "My sisters have declined to join, they are under the impression that we are insufferable in our courting." To which Seryn allowed a roll of her eyes at their nonsense.

 

[Paetr]

"Insufferable?"

Paetr considered that for a moment before standing up. Why would they considered such slow courting to be insufferable.

Ah, of course.

"I would not let their jealousy bring you down," he declared. He offered her his hand just to walk to the door.

"And if we arrive early then no one would dwell on the matter if you decided to retire early."

"I'll let you get a coat. Would you like me to call for my carriage?"

 

[Seryn Lusce]

"Yes, please do. Your steeds are a lot prettier than the ones we have at this manor." He had introduced her to his fine stallions drawing his carriage on one of his previous visits, and Seryn had delighted in feeding them apples and carrots.

Seryn wandered off to collect her coat she had picked for their outing, one of ink blue and embroidered in red and gold. The hood was lined in soft fur, and as she adjusted her hair to fall over her shoulders, she could not help but stare at her reflection in the mirror in the entry hall.

Her wedding dress would be grander, she knew this already. Seryn had planned on using silver and black embroidery on the skirts of her ivory dress, as ode and testament to her intended. She even thought to sew his name on the inside of her corset, right above her heart.

Her love and loyalty was something so fierce, she remembered her mother used to tell her when she was young and wild as Sybil. It is your greatest strength and deepest weakness to love so much. There were times she had pondered on this, had begun to doubt herself, but never did she doubt her growing love for the Night Court Lord.

She was grateful for all her brother had done for herself and her sisters, but to return to the Night Court was something she was determined to do if it meant supporting and growing Paetr's family line.

 

[Paetr]

Paetr walked out of the front door, shadowed by one of the house staff members. His carriage rolled around to stop before him.

His frustrations finally felt like they were far away. Not just geographically separate, but no longer plaguing his thoughts. The war would come to an end and he would have his prize. On the scale of the span of his attentions, Seryn was firmly the thing that he has chased for the longest time.

The carriage was painted a raven blue. It was almost black, but details were picked out with gold filagree. A glamour wrapped around it allowed mortals to only perceive a rickety and empty cart.

"My lady," he said, opening the door and offering his hand.

"So how many of the Winter Court do you think will be surprised by us arriving and leaving together?"

 

[Seryn Lusce]

Seryn was not sure if the heat flowing from her neck upwards to her cheeks were from her fire affinity warming her against the bracing cold of winter, or the heat inspired by the words of Paetr as he escorted her to the carriage. She could not part her lips to reply, could not think and listen as her distracted self was helped up and inside the carriage, and Paetr sat beside her.

She could only turn her head, to peer at him beneath darkened lashes that made her deep green irises enchant brightly. "Surely they would know by now... With your station, and that of my brother's, your names would be heard across the Courts... a promise to wed a Lusce daughter would garner interest... especially since our arrival here was..." Her eyes averted, peering out the small window at her side so that she could watch the carriage grow closer to the gates, and leading them out from the manor. "Well, you know how the war is going."

But of course, that was not the true reason for the sisters to be taken out from the Night Court. A future there could not be guaranteed to be well, and Saang loved each of his sisters... what if someone were to use them against him?

"I thought about it you know, returning to the Night Court... after we wed." Her hand sought out his own, gloved but the act warmed her to make her comfortable. Gave her strength. "I wish to... learn how to defend myself. But I would like you to teach me, if that is alright?"

Paetr

 

[Paetr]

"You would not need to defend yourself," he said firmly.

"But you would be a high lady of the court. People should fear your wrath. That is right," he continued.

He gave her hand a squeeze. He leaned forwards and studied her profile before looking out of the window and watching the gates go past. The driver knew to take his time.

"I love the colour of your cloak," he remarked. Paetr released her hand. He leaned forwards until he could gasp the hem of her skirts, slowly tugging them up to her knees. Through the window they were only visible from the chest up.

"Tell me of your magical affinity? People should fear your magic and your...hand."

 

[Seryn Lusce]

"Thank you." She pushed her thanks past the hitched breath that caught in her throat, her eyes watching him oh so carefully as he softly propped her skirts above her knees.

Seryn's knees came together as they were revealed. The sheer fabric of her hose kept her legs warm, as was the fashion of those in the Winter Court.

"Like Saang, we have the affinity of fire." She spoke of herself and her sisters. Her words were slow, as if Paetr kept her distracted. "But I have an ability to... yell so loud, I could burst eardrums... disrupt the brain..." And now she hesitated, waited for his next move before continuing. "I had killed someone before because of it. It was an accident."

But there was no need to fear in admitting such a thing to Paetr. He was male capable of worse, had killed with intention, and he would not fear her.

"Signe suggested I learn to sing, you see, to train my voice... to control it so that I may not harm someone with my words..."

 

[Paetr]

He didn't look shocked, nor did any sympathy play out across his features. Paetr was fascinated.

"What remarkable self control you must have developed," he said as the flat of his palm ignored the protest of her knees and forced itself ever higher.

"That you didn't burst my ear drums when I came to stay last. Maybe you will...sing a little song for me now."

Her ability to for a coherent response was going to be tested for the rest of the trip. The view through the window became one of rolling hills still covered by a gentle sheen of frost.

"It sounds indiscriminate as a weapon, but perhaps now you have learned to control not using it, you should learn to control deliberately using it..."