Midir sunk into the armchair by the roaring fire with the sigh of a man troubled by his weary bones. It had only been a day since the Wild Hunt and the height of the Autumn Courts power and the echo of it still vibrated through his bones. There were magicks he could do, if pressed, right now that would fuel the stuff of mortal legends and fae fears for centuries to come. It made him a danger. Not only to his enemies, but to his people and more importantly himself. The Hunt allowed him to let some of that power out but not enough. Not nearly enough. It had been a harsh lesson to learn when he had taken the throne that power came with a far greater cost than one could imagine. Daily he grappled with it but around this time of year the fight was one for survival and every year he grew a little less sure that he would win.
A log spat and hissed as a flame split it in two and drew him from his melancholy thoughts. Dwelling on it had never helped before and he doubted it would do so now either. Instead he focused on the things he could change and control like ridding the ache in his muscles with a bath. He rang a bell and in short order four maids filled in; a sprite, a pixie, a puca and a nymph. They curtsied low in a sweep of burnt orange linen then hurried to the bathing chamber to fill his bath. He barely gave them a glance though his mind ran through a joke he had once heard in a dining hall an Age ago before a crown had bent his back beneath its weight. Something about a pixie walking into a bar...
"The bath is ready, Your Highness," the nymph murmured. How long had he been sat staring into the flames chasing the memory of that joke? He waved her away and she filled the others out hastily. Interesting, he thought to himself as he stood. Nymphs in the general order stood lower than a puca and a pixie. She must have been good at her work to be the one the others followed. He collected a bottle of red and a glass and took them with him to the bath. The tub itself was a large ornate thing with gilded griffon feet and long enough to fit too tall fae comfortably. Midir eased himself into it with a thankful sigh. There were some things in life that even Magick couldn't solve better than a bath and a glass of red. He couldn't have been in it for more than five minutes before there was a loud rap at the antechamber.
"Go away," he muttered then with magick amplified his voice and said. "I am not to be disturbed."
A log spat and hissed as a flame split it in two and drew him from his melancholy thoughts. Dwelling on it had never helped before and he doubted it would do so now either. Instead he focused on the things he could change and control like ridding the ache in his muscles with a bath. He rang a bell and in short order four maids filled in; a sprite, a pixie, a puca and a nymph. They curtsied low in a sweep of burnt orange linen then hurried to the bathing chamber to fill his bath. He barely gave them a glance though his mind ran through a joke he had once heard in a dining hall an Age ago before a crown had bent his back beneath its weight. Something about a pixie walking into a bar...
"The bath is ready, Your Highness," the nymph murmured. How long had he been sat staring into the flames chasing the memory of that joke? He waved her away and she filled the others out hastily. Interesting, he thought to himself as he stood. Nymphs in the general order stood lower than a puca and a pixie. She must have been good at her work to be the one the others followed. He collected a bottle of red and a glass and took them with him to the bath. The tub itself was a large ornate thing with gilded griffon feet and long enough to fit too tall fae comfortably. Midir eased himself into it with a thankful sigh. There were some things in life that even Magick couldn't solve better than a bath and a glass of red. He couldn't have been in it for more than five minutes before there was a loud rap at the antechamber.
"Go away," he muttered then with magick amplified his voice and said. "I am not to be disturbed."