Fae Courts The Delights of the Wild Hunt

[Eske]

"You're wonderful, Eske. Beautiful."

There were hands traipsing across her floral figure, dandling in the petals of the flowers and tickling at the tails of leaves. In the way that nature could sense the flow of its energy and life through another, Eske felt herself bending toward the duanann. They'd experienced brief moments of synchronicity of spirit at his own grove when she'd delivered the Futures for Spring, but duty, perception, and respect had held them both at bay.

This was not a night for any of those things and Eske was well kept by her Myr hash. The pipe, even, had found its way into one of her reaching vine tendrils, and then back to her lips as she curled with a green smile toward those interloping hands. The heradryad pulled in on the pipe with a long draw, then delicately tipped it into the curved, thorn claws of her hand and released the hazy smoke on her next words.

"You are far too kind," the smoke rolled and swirled about his bare chest and under his chin. Eske leaned to hover there before him, a warmth in her smile and a glint of vague appreciation in those bright jungle eyes, "this form is not usually the one to get such words. Perhaps you would appreciate another form - one of your kind - more, mm?"

 

[Asemir]

"You are always a welcome sight, Aesmir,"

"There are some who would disagree..." Asemir replied absently, his mind shortly drifting back to his most recent visit to the Winter Court to deliver this year's Futures. The look on Mab's face when he walked in... Welcome sight, indeed. He was still recovering from those ice daggers she'd plunged through his metaphysical forehead during that treaty.

He digressed, keeping one stormy blue eye on the King and his companion, and an ear on the growing raucous some distance away. Dia had abandoned her chalice -- her first mistake -- so he took it upon himself to refill it with more drink (wine this time) and nonchalantly pressed it back into her hands. It was at about that time that the little spitfire detached herself from the needling Fury and marched straight through the crowd.

"Stop it!"​

"Erlking," Ase exclaimed abruptly, his usually quiet tone ticked up in volume to speak over the shriek through the din of the party, "you need a drink. The usual?"

At his height Asemir watched the toppling fae like he might observe the flailing tops of tall wheat grasses as the brownies tumbled and chased one another cross the Mirlorne meadows. A blink in assessment, he quickly reached back to the table to pluck up a glass of the King's choice drink and moved to side step behind Dia in order to grant the King a better audience with the Lady -

...and block his view of the impending drama that was about to unfold.

"You're angry with me, don't take it out on her!"​

"Dianthe is a childhood friend of mine from Summer," he promptly placed the drink in his brother's hands, "she's just returned from a voluntary vow of hermitism for the last several millennia and I'm taking her on the royal tour so that she might decide on a new Court to call home."

 

[Isiell]

Isiell's smile was surprisingly soft when Maeve's voice turned dreamy and wondering, but her brow furrowed when Maeve said that this wasn't the kind of world she grew up in. She was fae. What did that even mean?

But then her hand trembled, and her vision went black. She felt Maeve take the glass of wine, felt her warm hands clasp her own, grounding her for a moment as pain scraped through her mind.

'Last warning.'

If you think to cow me, darling Lorcan, you'll have to try harder than that, Isiell told Lorcán , not doubting that he could read her thoughts as she reached her own mind out, latching onto the chaos that drove him and stirring it into a frenzy, even if it made the pain worse.

Pain she could stand. Petty vindictivness she could not.

Why are you so interested in someone you claim not to know?

Anyone who observed her closely, though, would see a flicker of pain cross her face. Her fists clench as she fought against it, and her body sway just slightly as she struggled to keep her balance.

 

[Midir]

"Please," the Erlking's lips curled into a faint smile as he straightened from his elegant bow. "There is no need to be so formal, call me Midir," and with that he gently let her hand go. In the absence of physical touch his gaze only felt like a more tender caress as it swept over her form once more. "I can't believe Asemir has been hiding you in the Du--?"

"Stop it!"
​

The prickle of magic being used and chaos beginning to swirl cut him off, as did the almost-shout of the curious red-head who had been dancing in Isiell's arms only moments ago. He begun to glance over --

"Erlking, you need a drink. The usual?"
​

Midir's lips compressed into a thin line he somehow still managed to make out into a smile, albeit a cold one. Graciously he inclined his head in acceptance and turned his attention back to the beauty in front of him. As his brother turned to deal with the drinks he continued.

"As I was saying, I can't believe Aesmir has managed to hide you--"

"You're angry -- Dianthe is a --- with me, don't -- childhood friend of -- take it out on -- from Summer -- her!"

The Erlking gave a long suffering sigh and swirled the goblet of wine in his hands to cover up his irritation. Whatever chaos Lorcan had gotten himself into now, he hoped it was merely a spat of two lovers finding out about one another. Anything more serious on the night of the Wild Hunt... Autumn's evening... He forced another smile and pushed the thoughts from his mind to focus instead on this Dia.

"Hermitism does hold some appeal, even for a King," Midir mused and finally took a good drag from his goblet, skewering his brother with a meaningful look over the rim. "The Autumn Court would be more than happy to have you, My Lady. If you like justice and order, and the Wilds we call home..."

 

[Lorcán]

...If you think to cow me, darling Lorcan, you'll have to try harder than that...

The grin that curled on his lips was not a pleasant one.

'Oh no no, this is -nothing-, Darling Isiell. A very small taste. But if you continue to test me, I will fucking break you.' His voice would rumble like deep, rolling thunder in her mind only and those talons of his tightened their grip, and twisted.

He hadn't even noticed Maeve shoving her way through the crowd, his dark gaze set unblinkingly on the Dawn Fury. That was, of course, until he felt a sharp jab to his chest and he snarled, his hand snapping up to snatch the offending wrist - his hold on Isiell, broken.

'You're angry with me, don't take it out on her!'

His jaw tightened as he looked down at her, his grip unrelenting. "Have you listened to nothing that I have told you?" he said quietly through gritted teeth, glaring at a few who's attention they'd caught and casting a careful glance toward his father whom it seemed had been conveniently distracted. The wards were simple enough to throw up around them, a barrier to stop their words reaching any listening ears. "It is not safe here, and yet you intentionally went out of your way to do exactly what I asked you not to. I do not ask much of you, Maeve, but if you intend on torturing me I'd prefer that you just use a fucking blade."

"Not only that, you've dragged my brother into this - because you can't stand to be told 'no'. Do you think I did it to be cruel?... I gave you an entire fucking island to roam- I will take you anywhere in Arethil that you want to go. Just. Not. Here." he growled and let her go.

"I had no idea you could be so damned selfish."

 

[Maeve]

Lorcáns grip was to the point of bruising on her newly-made flesh. Like a young child's it still hadn't worked up the strength and resilience of the beings around her who had lived centuries. Yet the furious way with which she looked at the Prince, the defiant tilt of her chin, and that growing glow beneath her skin said she had little care for the physical limitations of her body when it came to this argument. That simmering rage built and built, every word a fan to the flame until his last sentence sent her boiling over the top.

Her slap across his cheek with her was like a crack of thunder.

"I dragged Raphael into nothing," she said in a dangerously icy tone as tears begun to shine in her eyes. Her whole body trembled though she kept a tight lid on it. "He offered. He saw what... He saw me. Not a possession to put in a bubble."

She took a step away from him.

"How dare you call me selfish when I wanted to come here, for you. To help you, to support you, so you didn't have to be alone anymore. You push me away whenever I get close to your world that isn't that little paradise you've constructed!" Maeve blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling then shook her head. The sunlight that had been building suddenly vanished like a candle snuffed. Fighting had been the last thing she had wanted to do here.

"Just... let her go and let me say goodbye and Raphael can take me back."

 

[Nairth San'Seya]

Indeed, respect for the duty of the High Omnia had precluded any such chemistry between the two of them being acted upon. Even now, he should not have allowed himself to become so intoxicated by the eddy of life and jubilation that surrounded her mossy thicket. This was a night for celebration, however. Words like shouldn't were of no such concern to the silver-haired crown-bearer. This was about what he desired, and he would no longer subject himself to such denial of his own wishes.

It was betraying of the war that waged within his own mind. The part of him still destroyed and wracked by sorrow, that wished to do nothing but isolate itself from the rest of the world. The part of him that wished to move on, to no longer be beholden to his past. Those two fragments were in a neverending flux within the deepest recesses of his mind, but tonight there was a clear winner, tonight the sun broke through the clouds.

"I assure you I could be far kinder..." Nairth muttered softly as his eyes followed the smoke from the pipe, swirling clouds of bliss that lie warm against his flesh as they rolled across his skin. Eske leaned closer, inches from his own body as the sly grin that spoke of much more mischief to come on this night send a soft shiver of anticipation down his spine. The bright glow to her eyes, like a morning sun peeking over the horizon at him as his hands rose up to rest softly against the sides of her rigid form.

"I very well may..." He purred lowly, running his hands slowly up the sides of her body, letting it glide carefully, gently across the growth of life that decorated her. "Perhaps I could offer you a much more... thorough... appreciation." The rising huskiness to his tone wouldn't be lost on her. "I wouldn't want to leave you unfulfilled."

Eske

 

[Isiell]

You will never break me, Isiell sneered. Are you really sure you want to know what lurks in the dark depths of my mind?

Isiell did stumble a little then, a streak of blood appearing on her upper lip. What is Maeve, that you react so?

And then, as suddenly as Lorcán had appeared, clawing at her mind, he was gone. Gods, why was the world spinning around her? Isiell stumbled forward a few steps until she could lean against the refreshment table. She reached up to wipe her nose, and a strange glow caught her eye over her shoulder. She twisted around just in time to see Maeve slap the Autumn Prince across the face. Isiell couldn't hear anything, but she knew intimately well about the wards that Lorcan could put up at a moment's notice. Even so, one hardly needed to hear the dialogue to understand what their body language portrayed.

Strangers those two definitely were not.

 

[Dianthe Cyrene]

Dianthe glanced at Asemir with a slight turn of her head as he murmured to himself. She could only imagine what he had been through since last they saw each other. He was much different than she remembered.

Asemir pressed a new drink into her hands and she took it without further thought as Midir release his gentle grip on her hand. She heard a commotion as she was being introduced, and in natural curiosity, she wanted to look. She resisted, noting Asemir blockading the sight from view as he stepped up next to her.

The Erlking corrected her on her formality, and she could feel a slight blush on her cheeks that she quickly hid, taking a drink of the wine. It danced on her tongue, and she couldn't help but smile. "I will call you Midir from now on then." It seemed Asemir was gently trying to prevent the drama from invading their space, though Midir's attention wavered.

Midir offered her a spot in his court, and she bowed her head gracefully. "I would love to call The Autumn Court my new home." She finished her wine, trying not to let the drama interfere with their interaction.

Dianthe looked to Asemir, he did not seem all that pleased right now. She had clung to him up until now, it was time for her to make her own moves. She exuded a calmness, it came off her in waves. It was one of her many abilities. To soothe and create a cocoon of feeling safe. She smiled at the Erlking softly and gestured to where bodies intertwined in dance. "As my new Erlking, would you like to dance with me?"

She was fueled by the little alcohol she had, and she wanted to keep his attention. What better way to do it? Then Asemir could slip away if he desired, and take some pleasure of his own.

 

[Vaer Nhimei]

Vaer had flitted his way from shadow to shadow, careful of the chaotic drumming of feet on his way toward Isiell. A subtle word and a reminder of the debt she owed him, and then he could be gone with his prize and Favashi could (for once) feel the sting of defeat.

He had only just reached the shadows behind the duo when his quarry turned and marched toward Lorcán with a blaze in her eyes that rivaled her flaming locks.

Vaer knew an angry woman when he saw one and instinctively shrank out of her path. Hanging onto the shadows of Isiell's calf, a small black blob lifted to peer after her. He watched with a growing sense of dread as she smacked his chest. Sound wards went up, but there was no denying the prince's expression.

Who was she? Vaer wondered if he'd bit off way more than he could chew with Favashi's bet this time.

His focus on the pair was broken when Isiell staggered. The shadow hung onto her leg, but his concern for a friend took priority over a petty bet. Vaer's tall form manifested beside her, his hand cupping her elbow to steady her.

"Isiell? Are you alright?" The shuck's gentle eyes took in her uncharacteristically unsteady manner, the blood on her lip. The pieces fell into place and he straightened stiffly. His own cutting glare followed hers toward the pair in time to also see the delivery of the spitfire's slap.

It was a disappointment that none of them got the satisfaction of hearing it.

Vaer plucked a cloth napkin from the refreshments table, shook it out, and offered it to Isiell.

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcán didn't respond to Isiell. For a moment, he was too stunned to think. His head reeled, the impact of his mate's hand colliding with his face a scalding sting that forced his dark gaze away from her. His eyes closed, squeezing tightly for a moment as she berated him, and slowly oh-so-slowly, his head turned back to meet her bleary gaze.

'He saw me. Not a possession to put in a bubble.'

Her words stung far more than her hand had. Had she not intervened, he'd have had no qualms whatsoever about snuffing Isiell out. He'd been about to attempt to shove a shadow blade into his father's chest. He'd have gladly torn each and every one of these creatures around him apart without a second thought if he could, if only to keep her safe. That bubble she spoke of was an entire island... But a bubble none-the-less.

He swallowed and glanced around him. They may not have been able to hear what was being said, but once more, he'd lived up to his reputation as the Erlking's mockery of a son. The shadows on his skin crawled over his back, coalescing there into a set of imposing raven wings.

"Don't. I'll go. If you want to be here, then be here." he frowned down at her and cast a look in Raphael's direction, a mute warning to keep an eye on her before the wards broke and his wings spread to lift him into the air with a harsh gust.

 

[Asemir]

And then suddenly all was quiet. Well, as quiet as a Wild Hunt festival might be. Good. Asemir took a healthy swig from his bottle of wine in a moment of silent appreciation. Why had he come here again? Right, to show Dianthe around so she would get an intro to each of the Courts before deciding where she wanted to-

"I would love to call The Autumn Court my new home." ​

Welp.

Blond brows shot up into his hairline, tugging at his facial scars in what would have been a rather ghastly display of bemused surprise did he not strategically wear his hair to cover it from immediate view. Another swig, he smiled warmly down at his companion. "Well then - my work here is done. Dia, my friend, enjoy yourself. If you have need of me, you know where to find me." She'd managed to find him after several thousand years in voluntary exile, he was sure she'd have no trouble tracking him back down now that she had the entirety of his previous second-home Court to question.

"King Midir, I implore you take the best of care with this fine and gentile Lady," his free hand found the shorter King's shoulder and gave it a firm, familiar squeeze, "Now, I've got to see a dog about a bet."

Where was that wiley cwn that owed him money...

 

[Isiell]

Normally Isiell would have noticed Vaer's presence, but Lorcán's invasion into her mind had disturbed her awareness of the world around her. That could be rather dangerous on the night of the Wild Hunt. Even if the hunt itself was finished, the magic of the night was not.

She leaned into him subtly as he steadied her, smiling weakly as he asked if she was all right.

"Apparently even a Chaos Fury can bite off more than she expects from time to time," she said amusedly, taking the offered napkin and delicately dabbing it at her nose and lip, careful to not smudge more of her paint than necessary.

Her brows lifted in surprise when Lorcan spread his wings and soared out of the clearing, leaving Maeve behind.

"What brought you over here?" she asked Vaer curiously. "You usually studiously avoid me, no matter what court we might be in."

Vaer Nhimei

 

[Delun]

Appearances were always something of an affair for Delun. His last appearance prompting time off for his assistant after his plan to escape the evening had backfired so spectacularly in his face. He was oft reminded of the precarious situation if only by his own doing.

Something he was loathe to allow to happen once more.

Instead he was more apt to arrive well into the evening. Slipping in when it seemed the entirety of those gathered were well into their own amusements and allowed him to seemingly appear from thin air. An impossible thing for his kind truth be told.

But that was also something he endeavored to cast worrying murmurs upon his sudden appearance.

In truth, he had been near enough to listen. Near enough to guage the general atmosphere. And perhaps wait for the impromptu distractions often provided by those that attended these events. When all eyes were cast towards such a thing, the book keeper had made his entrance towards the edge of the gathering and kept himself squarely placed there.

Even with those scantily clad, the sheer draping robe across his shoulders was something that did not entirely sit well with him. It left little to the imagination, and merely served as an annoyance for him.

Like a summer curtain placed upon his shoulders, it barely ended at the lowest point of his hips. The transparent green dipped into a rich mossy color that was in contention with his plated platinum hair.

His ensemble had been sorely lacking in his opinion, though he hadn't realized what had been chosen for him until the brushes appeared. Pale skin shone beneath the soft burnt copper of paint that began at his ankles and trailed up his legs.

All of this was troublesome and made his nerves dance at the slightest bit of motion around him. Made him hyperaware and irritable. Parties had always been a troubling thing that were apparently not his forte.

They never truly had been.

He enjoyed layers. Enjoyed the feel of clothing against his skin and the pockets he had within them. The paint upon his body softly swirled in a tenuous dance that drew attention to his upper body rather than display everything below.

It was by and by far tamer than what most had about them in this gathering. He kept to the sides regardless, skirting those enjoying themselves and attempting to find a space with which he could simply exist without drawing attention.

 

[Midir]

Midir's expression mirrored that of his older brother's. The decision of which Court one decided to pledge and live in was not one to take lightly. Of course, it was easy enough to move amongst most courts, but doing so could burn bridges made in the previous court or turn that court into an enemy. It was a complicated political dance and it seemed this fae had either already come with the intention of joining or otherwise really was a hermit who hadn't touched a drop of wine in centuries.

His eyes flickered briefly to his brother in mild alarm. Or, at least, as close to alarm as those icy shards ever got.

He recovered smooth enough but hoped his look would implore his brother to speak with his childhood friend once the headache of the next day had passed. Whatever they said about him, the Erlking did not hold people to his court by force. He wasn't the Night Court. He bowed in one fluid movement and took her hand delicately in his.

"It would be a pleasure," he murmured, tucking her hand through his arm and inclining his head towards Asemir in a casual farewell. The dance floor was no less packed for all the drama that had unfolded behind Ase's broad shoulders and his eyes briefly went to the sky where he could still see his sons retreating figure. A slight shake of the head and then he focused back on the woman by his side, who he spun casually into his arms.

"May I ask what made you choose a life of solitude?" He asked curiously as he swept her into the feverish dance.

 

[Maeve]

"Lor-"

The wind caused by his wings made her squeeze her eyes shut as it blew her hair haphazardly across her face. But even after the gale had fallen and she stood for a moment still just like that. His pain, his fear, that dark jealousy that crept into his rational thinking all swirled in her mind and all she wanted was to hurl him close and make him see that it was all irrational. Couldn't he feel, as she did him, that she loved him? With a long, drawn-out breath she finally opened her eyes and studiously ignored the night sky above them. Raphael was already staring, his amber eyes following the shadowy form of his friend. There was pain there too in her friends face as he warred with his desire to fly after his brother or remain with her.

"We'll go," she assured him softly and touched his arm to draw him back to her. "I just want to make sure she's alright," Isiell had nearly been hurt because of her. Raphael gave a curt nod and Maeve quickly turned, ducking back through the crowd in a less destructive path to the one she had cleaved to get through to Lorcan earlier. Once she got back through to where she had left her new formed friend - still hoped she was a friend - she took the other woman's hands in hers and ran her eyes over her worriedly.

"Are you well? Did he... I'm sorry Isiell. I didn't mean for you to get caught in--- Is that your dog?!"

 

[Vaer Nhimei]

He was sorry that she had been on the receiving end of Lorcán. Everyone in the Sluagh knew about his abilities to some degree. He was a tool in his father's armory, and a sharp knife at that.

She carefully wiped away the blood, and both of them watched the Prince depart.

"It had been my intention to come ask if I could borrow your companion. I really had no plan for how to go about this, but I don't think it matters now that she--"

Anything else got cut off when Maeve turned away from the puca and walked straight for them. She wasn't leaving. Vaer sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. He stepped around Isiell and, not sure what to do, shifted into his dog form. His long, sleek body materialized and shoved people aside. He turned his long snoot around to apologize quietly.

"Look, Isiell. I made a bet with Favashi and I need her for just a little bit," he whispered hurriedly as the woman approached them. If it wasn't obvious he had no plan before, it was painfully clear now.

Mostly because the mysterious liquor Favashi had given him was starting to hit. He had to spread his paws for balance as the first wave of dizziness struck him. Oh no.

Whoever Maeve was, she was very pretty. Vaer, currently the size of a horse and as black as the deep shadows outside the ring of firelight, lifted his long tail to offer a friendly wag.

He didn't get a chance to introduce himself or anything. His tail abruptly ceased its waving. A dog?! Well. Technically yes, he was a dog and knew that. But a pet? What kind of fae didn't know what a black shuck was? What rock had he found her under?

Actually, that opened up a lot of questions. Who was she? Where did Lorcán find his secret gem?

Questions for later. For now he knew what he needed to do.

His ears perked up and his tail began wagging. Vaer cast his gold eyes toward Isiell, pleading silently, as he reached his long snout toward Maeve and inched closer to sniff at her. An action with two purposes: to be a cute dog and to inspect the scents on her.

He smelled Raphael and Lorcán. He smelled other things, too -- scents from what he could presume to be her home, strangers and other puca and… cherry blossoms? Vaer logged away the information and continued to wag his tail enthusiastically. He felt silly (both for pretending and because his head was getting inebriated) but he wasn't going to lose to Favashi again.

 

[Dianthe Cyrene]

Dianthe was making a rather rash and bold move. She knew, Asemir knew it, and the Erlking knew it. Still, the drink and the atmosphere made her a bit giddy and swept up in it all. Asemir had taken his leave, for now. She assumed they'd have words later, when her senses returned.

Midir took her hand delicately, and she smiled as she looked up to the gentlemanly fae. She knew next to nothing about him, but he did not seem to exude trickery or danger. Though his eyes did seem to lack the light of the other fae around them.

He agreed to a dance, and wrapped her arm in his. They made it without trouble to where other bodies spun and writhed in dance. Midir gave spun her into his arms, and she could feel her cheeks flush slightly. Was it the man, or the drink?

Midir lead them into dance, and she followed suit easily. She hadn't been this close to another fae in too long. She looked away from his as he questioned her, but only for a moment. "I had grown tired of the Summer Court, the politics..the perfection. I enjoyed the quiet, grew fond of it. It's time to come back, before I lose who I truly am." She was talking too much. She knew it, but she couldn't stop the tumble of words.

Midir

 

[Eske]

She pulled strongly on her pipe, filling whatever manner of curious organs within her she called lungs. There were hands at her sides yet she could not tell if they were warm or cold, only that they contained the power to create life. It was this power that drew the tips and tails of leaves and vines, drawing forth over his knuckles and along the line of his bare arms to mix pale alabaster with verdant jungle. A shiver followed, rustling beneath his palms, and a sound like trees mingling in the wind echoed from the heradryad.

Smoke filtered out from all broken surfaces of her figure like a mist from morning dew rising from grasses and trees in the light of the breaking sun. Eske briefly succumbed to the purple fog around her and it enveloped the pair of them, thick and heady and tugging at senses in weird and curious ways. Nairth's hands moved across where her ribs would have been and found the leaves beneath them fell away to smooth, emerald-hued skin. Shedding the layers of bark and vine, stalk and frond a body slowly appeared. It wasn't duannan - but an amalgamation of beautiful things both fae and nature combined.

The wyldfae around them hushed and awed, giggled and cooed as the Lady of Mirlorne shifted and bloomed before their eyes. Eske smiled through pale pink lips as scales of tiny leaflets fluttered from her face and the length of wild bracts that had once crowned her head dropped like leaves in autumn to make way for falls of long, vibrant jade hair. Saffron eyes blinked at Nairth through the smoke before looking down to the purple flowers that had tumbled from her shoulders onto the moss.

"Oh, dear me. I dropped my flowers."

 

[Isiell]

She was surprised that Lorcán had... simply left after Maeve confronted him. Her head ached a little, though, and when Vaer started... rambling, Isiell assumed it was just her brain being a bit jumbled. But then she spotted Maeve heading back toward them, and Vaer... shifted into his dog form.

Then he hissed something about a bet with Favashi, and suddenly everything made sense again. She was fighting back laughter when Maeve returned and took her hands, and the distress in the redhead's eyes made her own gaze soften almost uncharacteristically. She was just about to reply when Maeve was thoroughly distracted by the sight of Vaer, though.

"Are you well? Did he... I'm sorry Isiell. I didn't mean for you to get caught in--- Is that your dog?!"

Isiell's jaw almost dropped. Maeve was definitely a young fae. Isiell had pegged her as maybe a little younger than even herself. But she... didn't recognize a black shuck?

A sly grin crept over her face, and as Vaer crept closer with an absurdly adorable tail wag, despite the fact that he was just as tall as her in this form.

"Yes," Isiell said, turning to face Vaer and looping her arm around Maeve's waist. "I like to call him Blackie."

It was a nickname she'd coined for him back in the Winter Court, and much to his chagrin she'd gotten his name changed on a formal bit of documentation at one point. It had haunted him for years.

This counts as the favor I owe you, Isiell mouthed to him.

Vaer Nhimei

 

[Midir]

It was not much of a surprise she had originally hailed from his cousin's court, though it was a surprise that she had found it too perfect. Of course, she wouldn't be the first fae to have thought it. Dawn had completed seceded for that very reason but then, their founding Princess had always been a little unhinged as had those who had flocked to follow her. What was odd was that she hadn't dived straight away into something completely different like the Winter Court or even Dawn. Solitude seemed even more of the same tedious style of life the Summer Fae favoured.

That made the thought of unravelling all these layers even more delicious.

Midir swept them round without missing a beat, delicately sliding his hands from her waist down to her hips to hoist her in the air, spinning once, before putting her back down.

"And what did you learn on these years of self isolation?"

 

[Maeve]

The young fae looked visibly torn. On the one hand she wanted to ask after Isiell and apologise properly for what Lorcan had done to her, because of her, and on the other there were a thousand and one questions just waiting to leap off her tongue. Chief among them whether she could pet the large animal. Of course she had always heard stories of the strange fae-beasts from her Gods world but she had never seen one. At least not one like this. There had once been a dragonfly that had eaten a small child which still filled her nightmares but...

Her thoughts were abruptly cut short when the wet warm nose pressed against her cheek causing her to giggle at the ticklish sensation.

"May I?" she asked, her eyes flickering between Isiell and 'Blackie' as she raised a hand in permission to pet. Once given she rose onto her tip toes to lavish a good scratch behind his ears. "Oh he's adorable," she sighed dreamily as she continued her good scratches all the way under his jaw. Her guilty conscious began to tug her attention back to Isiell.

"I am sorry about what he... did," she frowned, still not sure what exactly that was. Only that she had sensed something dark and dangerous. "I hope we can still be friends."

 

[Nairth San'Seya]

There was no longer the look of wonderment in Nairth's eyes as he gazed down at the lovely heradryad lounging beneath his gentle touch. That wonder had softened to a gaze of need, gentle but intense as he felt his life-bringing energies meet the bounty of life that made up her body. His hands would cease to travel, the tips of his fingers pressing firmly against the oak-like skin as the vines and leaves sprouted to heed his unheard call and embrace his touch.

Perhaps it was the pipe that had addled his mind, clouding any thoughts but that of this lovely example of all things he adored about this world, the desire to revel and bathe in her presence a command headily screamed by every inch of his skin, of his mind. What he loved most about such a need was that it was within his power to do so. Tonight there would be no talk of Nairth and Eske, and whatever tryst they had on this evening. For tomorrow he would make his announcement, and all eyes would be on him. Tonight? Tonight had no consequence, and he craved something, anything to make him feel as alive as she looked.

The leaves that gripped his encroaching palms began to fall away at his touch, peeling to reveal the smooth green flesh underneath. He felt his breath hitch, his body leaning closer as that which had made her seem unattainable to him melted away to reveal a beauty that seemed to call out for his touch, for his attention. He would answer without hesitation.

The mossy ground beneath them would begin to shift, something underneath the surface struggling suddenly to unearth itself. Sprouts from the ground, breaking soil and growing at a pace every bit as rapid as the heat in Nairth's core, blooming into massive leaves of green, with ends that met with one another, intertwining and twisting together and rising off of the thicket with the lovely Eske atop the massive nest of green that was as soft as a bed. The Chamberlain reached for the flowers that rested beside her, moving to drape them once more across her shoulders.

His hands would not leave her, however. Instead, the remained on her shoulder as Nairth rolled from his seated position to be mounted atop her, bringing his head down to press his lips softly against the side of her neck, his tongue sliding out to trace a shape against her flesh, words muttered quietly against the emerald skin. "Perhaps I am the one seeking fulfillment..."

Vines would erupt from the thicket, thick and solid. They twisted around the leafy platform, natural walls to surround them and offer the two the privacy they did not have moments prior.

Eske

 

[Isiell]

"Feel free," Isiell choked out when Maeve asked to pet the black shuck, fighting to keep her voice even so as not to give it away that 'Blackie' was... not a dog.

Despite her lingering dizziness, it took every ounce of willpower Isiell had not to break down in laughter at the sight of Maeve scratching Vaer's chin. This was... definitely not what she'd expected for the night of the Wild Hunt, but Isiell was not going to complain about this diversion (future blackmail material) one bit.

When Maeve apologized for Lorcan's behavior, though, Isiell just shook her head. Carefully.

"Of course we can still be friends," Isiell said, though truly she wouldn't mind convincing the girl to tumble into her bed at some point too. As she thought back to Lorcan's actions, though, Isiell's expression swiftly sombered.

"No matter who he is to you," Isiell spoke softly, "if he does anything to you or to someone else that makes you uncomfortable... you don't have to put up with it. And if you need anything--anything--just throw a glass into a fire and wish for me. I will come."

She'd told Fraeya to throw a crystal glass of whisky into the flames, but only because she knew Fraeya could easily access those types of things. Really, it just needed to be something that would shatter. Fire because it was the element she was most strongly tied to, even though she had a strong inclination for air as well.

Vaer Nhimei

 

[The Brothers Vitae]

"Its been some time, brothers," came the silken voice of Rerreno as he peered over at his siblings. The lord of diplomacy, such events were his forte, and to seed the lords of war and secrets join him in such a place was rare indeed, if not entirely unheard of. Dressed in a regal golden outfit made for the gaudiest of ballrooms, perhaps he might appear a bit out of place amongst the dancing and carnal delights that surrounded them, but such was the way of the Vitae Court. Once this had been their home and as wild dogs they had danced and made merry deep into the next morning. Those days were over now.

"I'd almost forgotten the depravity of home. Shame that my warlock had to miss out," Varos whispered. Another voice that came from a man clearly out of place, the dark haired duannan's body was clad in a shadowy cloak which seemed to cover the entirety of his lithe form, leaving only his head uncovered as he surveyed the area. Every movement seemed to scream that he was looking for somewhere to hide, though fear was never a motive for the shadow fox. Rather, the shadows simply offered a better vantage point to observe and learn. And particularly when fae were involved, knowledge was power.

"I almost miss the thrill of the hunt," the lord of war finally rumbled. Imposing and seeming to tower over his brothers, Wulren's body felt like it was lit aflame by the air itself. While he had managed to get by in a military uniform, the lack of true armor gave him a restless feeling. The sword at his side, made for courtly appearances was far too small for him, and his hands clenched at a phantom hilt, barely grazing the pitifully small pommel that sat in the place of what he believed should have been a longsword. Of the trinity, Wulren had always taken best to the hunt, though the internal politics and relationships seemed lost on him when the chase was over. Ranks and structure were what he knew, not this dancing and cacophony that Rerreno seemed to adore. His wars were fought with hammer, sword, and shield, not the mind games that Varos thrived upon.