Private Tales The Lost Princess and The Exiled Prince

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Another person might have wanted to ask why but Maeve knew enough about the problems of having royalty for parents that she rightly kept her mouth shut on the subject. If he wanted to handle an entire camp on his own then so be it, though there was a tiny part of her that didn't wonder whether Liath would insist on going with him. He would be livid. She sighed, eyes still closed, but her relaxed position changed somewhat when he asked his question.

It started such a sudden laugh out of her it hurt. She hadn't laughed in.. so long. Her eyes opened and she looked at him like he were an idiot.

"Yes," her tribe were famous for their hunt. He couldn't grasp what a ridiculous question he had just asked. "Why, do I give off the vegetarian vibe?" she shook her head and laughed again.
 
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"Do I?" Arun said with a smile.

Most Elves were, and Arun was included among that number. The soup she had eaten was mostly made of mushrooms, but he knew the human appetite. The road to recovery would not be an easy one, and she would likely need meat.

"I will hunt for you in the morning." He promised. "You will need your strength."

Fingers played across his knee for a moment. "You are the first person I've seen in nearly five decades."

The confession came from nearly nowhere.

"I understand I may seem...strange." In all fairness it had been a strange few years.
 
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No. But then her only experience with his kind had not been the usual one apparently so she decided to keep her mouth shut. At least until his next comment.

Maeve gave him a sceptical look.

"Do vegetarians even know how to hunt?" it was a skill she prided herself on immensely. She was a brilliant tracker and she had been one of the tribes best shooters and riders. He did not look the sort who would gut and skin an animal without bulking a little at it. His next few comments however barely got much of a reaction from her aside from to make her look more tired.

"I seem to be running into people who have that trait in common," Liath had been on his own for centuries and hadn't seen a kinsman for longer, nearly three millennia.

"If it is any consolation you all seem strange to me," she lifted her lips in a half smile. "You're probably one of the more normal people I've run into."
 
"Prince of Eagles." Arun said as he pointed to himself. "And you don't think I know how to hunt?"

The title was of course for the fact that his people road upon the backs of giant eagles, but Maeve didn't know that.

Briefly he wondered how Llyla was doing, the eagle that he had reared as a child. His father had of course not allowed him to take her with him on the day of his exile, something that he still felt resentment for nearly a hundred years later.

A smile touched his lips. "I suppose that deserves a thank you."

"You are the most unique human I've ever met."
Arun offered. "And I've met quite a few."

Granted, most of them Anirian.
 
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Her smile was softer this time was it briefly flitted across her face, as if she actually thought his joke were amusing. Titles didn't always reflect what they actually meant and she would reserve judgement until he managed to put something on the table. Mae had no problem with vegetables if that was all he could 'hunt'. She was just grateful for more than the bear minimum of everything.

"I'm not sure if being unique is helping me in your lands so far," she let her head fall back again against the wall as she watched him. "It was the markings that seemed to make me stand out as a target to the others," they had been fascinated by it. That and the unusual green of her eyes, like the essence of the forest itself had been preserved in them.

"But if it means I get the bed tonight I shall continue to try and be interesting."
 
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"You may have the bed." He would not need it as long as she was here.

A part of him doubted that the Tribals could ever track her this far or that they could ever find his home, but he had not survive decades of war with Vel Anir by throwing caution to the wind. He intended to stay awake, at least until she could care for herself.

Meditation would help, but he would do so during the days when she was up.

"If you don't mind my asking." He prompted. "You are Fae-Touched, yes?"
 
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Mae inclined her head in thanks towards him. The sofa would have been perfectly fine but with her wounds she was conscious it might have been better to not be cramped. She also didn't want to roll herself off in the night and cause further troubles. She pulled the towel around her shoulders in a habitual movement more than anything else then raised an eyebrow at his question. It was not a taboo thing where she was from, the bonds between the Fae and her people were commonplace. What had been different in her case was that she had not had her own say over her own soul.

"In a sense," she tried to think of how best to word it. "My ancestral line is from the first man to ever make a deal with the Fae, and his line was blessed with qualities such as being slightly stronger, faster, the odd glimmering skin," she slowly took one hand out of the towel and turned it this way and that. In the firelight it seemed more obvious. "But my parents made a deal with my soul when I was a child to save my life, that is why it is a bit more evident in me. The Wind? That I have no idea, I have always been able to hear them. I can't control it, it's more like having a very annoying toddler with you at all times."
 
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"Magic is often difficult to explain." Arun said with a frown. "Fae Magic even more so."

In truth he did not know much about that. His studied had always been in other areas, and even after two hundred years one just didn't pick up knowledge that was so niche. Besides, it did not seem like answers to a mystery were high on her list right now anyway.

He suspected what she craved most now was safety, or at least the feeling of it. Arun doubted he would be able to fully provide it given his ears, but...perhaps in time. "Fascinating."

Arun said with genuine interest.

"There are still some mysteries in this world I guess." He smiled.
 
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"The only thing anyone ever needs to remember is that it comes with a price far higher than you expect," Maeve sounded like she was repeating off of a script as she spoke and there was a slight sour tone to her recitation. In her case it had been her hand in marriage. She tried to think how best to explain it for she knew even normal magic had a cost. It just... was not the same.

"It's a price nobody ever things they will have to pay. You might ask... for the gift to have a good harvest every year. Nothing special, just not ruined, and you may lose your happiest memory. Or, you may ask for your people to be saved from plague but lose your only child to it instead..." her voice drifted off as she stared at the fire.

"It depends on the Fae too, some of them have their own agendas."
 
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He frowned. "Don't we all."

His head shook slightly. Talking of such things was always depressing. The realities of the world were so harsh, so despondent that it was often difficult to face them even for someone like him. Perhaps that made him weak, his father had certainly thought so.

"It's a good thing I don't plan on making deals with any Fae." Arun mused, glancing at her for a second before flashing her a quick smile."You don't count."

Besides, there was no magic involved there.
 
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Maeve laughed hoarsely at his words and then very slowly she pushed herself to her feet. Her back didn't leave the wall for a moment as she used it to help steady herself and then she rubbed at her eyes.

"I beg your leave, your highness, I believe if I sit by the fire any longer I will fall asleep on your floor," and though it was at least warmer than the floors she had been sleeping on the memories of the feather bed she had woken up in pulled at her. She hesitated before disappearing into the other room, her hand pressing to the frame before she half turned.

"You... will stay awake?" to keep watch. There was a nervousness to her tone and her fingers dug slightly into the wood. His words earlier about them following her had not fallen on deaf ears.
 
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"Highness?" It had been more than a century since anyone had called him so.

Even during his last years in Fal'Addas and the city of Eagles he had become somewhat of a wastrel. Most had wanted to avoid him, others whispered of his exile. There had been a few who kept him close, but none called him by title.

He'd never like it. "None of that, please."

The Elf told her with a shake of his head.

"I will be awake." He told her with a nod of his head.
 
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Maeve gave him a wry, tired smile and then took a step into the bedroom as she said over her shoulder.

"My father always said it was polite to greet another Royal as such," before she disappeared into the room before he could ask her a follow up question on that little bit of information.

The Princess was asleep pretty much as soon as she had crawled beneath the blankets. She had been struggling with exhaustion since she had gotten out of the bath and the sleep she fell into was dreamless and deep. When she awoke she wasn't entirely sure how long she had been out. Sunlight spilled into the room and she groaned as she turned over then slowly pulled herself from the bed. Everything somehow hurt a lot worse than it had when she was last awake.

She crept over to where the mirror was and then took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of her skin. It was marred with bruises that looked worse now she had removed the dirt, the lash marks on her back criss crossed in huge red welts and she in general looked as if the wind might break her. Bile rose in her throat and she turned away to grab...

.. No clothes. Her lips pressed into a thin line then she went rummaging through the wardrobe to find a tunic. He was a good head taller than her so when she tugged one on it acted as a dress. Content she was at least decent she stepped into the other room in search of more of that tea.
 
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Arun sat patiently in the middle of the Porch outside, his eyes closed though his ears twitching slightly as he heard footsteps in the house behind him.

"Good morning." He said out loud, though he did not know if she would hear him.

The fae-touched girl had proven to be an interesting little mystery, and the fact that she was a Princess as well? It had been a surprise, and something else that he would have to figure out about all of this. Fate was an interesting thing.

He could not see into the future, that talent had not been granted to him.

Maeve would find tea on the hearth.
 
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Maeve helped herself to a mug of steaming tea and then made her way out onto the porch. She hadn't been well enough nor awake enough to have appreciated the view then but today it made her stop. Firstly, she hadn't quite realised how high they were. Trees were not a common part in her area of the Isles which had been known for their vast plains and flats of lands that had lent themselves neatly to the art of horsemanship. So to be so high up made her stomach churn and she edged side ways along the porch to keep her back firmly pressed against the wall.

Secondly, she hadn't realised how vast the forest was. For miles all she could see were trees. Endless rows upon rows of them. Just how big was the Falwood?

The cold air against her bare legs made her shiver and she held the mug a bit tighter in her hands to draw warmth from it.

"Good morning," she replied first to her host and then, as the wind on cue whipped up around her in its version of a hug, "Good morning to you too," a sweet sigh came from the air and then a musical repetition of her phrase before it faded into giggles.
 
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Arun perked an eyebrow as she spoke to the magic that surrounded her.

He wondered about the wind, but did not want to question just what it was. Arun had never liked people questioning what he was, his own abilities, he imagined that it would be much the same for Maeve. "How are your wounds?"

The Elf asked.

"Some were..." He scowled. "Harsh."

That was the best word he could think of. The Tribals had been barbaric in their care. He was surprised that Maeve had made it as far as she had.
 
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Maeve was prideful but she wasn't stupid and lying about the state of her wounds would be stupid for they wouldn't get the required attention or help they needed.

"Sore, I feel worse than I did yesterday," she took a sip of the tea as her eyes continued to drink in the view from her safe vantage point far away from the edge. "They didn't particularly care whether they were harsh or not - if you didn't pick yourself up the next day you just got beaten more. I learnt pretty quickly it was easier to just get on with it," but it had made healing slower and more painful.

"What are you doing?" her eyes flicked now to him and his odd position on the floor.
 
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"Meditating." He answered with a deep frown.

It was of course not the meditation that upset him, but rather her words. The idea of treating anyone like that was upsetting to him. It reminded him of what the Anirians had done to his brothers, reminded him of what had nearly been done to him.

Slaves. The practice made a pit of hatred form in his stomach.

"It is the reason I do not need sleep." He added quietly, and then abruptly switched the subject. "I am sorry for your treatment. It was abhorrent."

Fingers tightened on his knees. "I have seen the like before, and it is no better now than it was then."
 
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"You didn't do it," Maeve said bluntly and with a tone that suggested she didn't want to talk about it any further. Which she didn't. It was bad enough that she had to look at the marks on her skin and feel them every time she moved, she didn't wish to keep bringing up the memories anymore than she had to. Instead she slowly made her way over to the railing and plucked the courage up to lean over to see if she could even see the bottom of the forest floor.

She stepped back hurriedly until her back was against the wall again.

"I'll leave you in peace," Maeve took a step towards the door.
 
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"Wait." Arun said as he held up a hand.

His eyes were still closed, but Maeve moved so loudly that every move she made was like thunder erupting just a few feet away from him.

He did not say as much of course, he didn't want to insult her.

"Why don't you join me?" Meditation was often good for the mind, particularly for those with stresses they could not repress. "I believe it will be helpful."

He told her, consciously trying to soften his voice.
 
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Maeve frowned. Sleep was definitely more her thing, not sitting still and humming. Still...

After a moment more of debating it in her mind she sat opposite him and quietly ran her eyes over how he was sitting then tried to copy it. She couldn't quite get the exact positioning due to her bruises and her broken ribs but she settled into a similar form that was at least comfortable.

"How... exactly do you meditate?" this was the closest she had sat to another person who hadn't then hurt her in months. She was trying to fight the instinct to crawl to the other side of the porch. Taking a slow breath in she shut her eyes.
 
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Arun had his eyes closed still, though he smiled as he heard her try to enter into the correct position. It was amusing to listen to, the slight straining grunts and the rocking of her rear against the wooden porch as she tried to hold herself right.

Eventually she seemed to settle. "It's rather simple really."

At least it always had been for him. Meditation had been a must since the war, since what had come forth during the blood nights.

"Close your eyes." He told her softly. "Then begin to clear your mind of everything within."

Arun's voice lowered. "Focus on a flower, a single flower within your mind. Imagine it as a bud, and nothing else.."
 
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Maeve's brows pulled together into a frown as he spoke. If clearing her mind were that easy surely she would just... do it all of the time? The impatient youth let out a sharp huffing breath but she kept her eyes closed and then brought up the image of a flower. It had been unintentional but it was one that grew along the steppes of her homeland that her mother had lov--

She stopped herself. Well that image didn't work it just set off a train of chaotic thoughts and emotions.

She thought instead of a single crisp leaf floating on a lake and that the lake were her mind. The image was a soothing one and soon her shoulders began to relax and her breathing slowed and deepened.
 
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Arun did not know what it was she thought of, but he continued. "Focus on that single image, the development of it, the life of it."

This was how his mother had taught him.

He remembered the lessons well. It had been at the top of the grand tower, where the Eagles slept and their young were born. She had taken him there to help him, to calm the storm that lay within the back of his mind.

"Watch it." Arun said softly. "As though it were the only thing in the world."

He breathed. "Everything else lost and forgotten."

Cast to the side.

That was what his mother had told him, what she had shown him. His mind clearing, the rage going. Everything else left behind safe for the flower's bloom.
 
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His words floated to her as if through a pool. They sounded muffled and distorted yet somehow she knew their meaning. The young girl did as he instructed and focused on the image until she felt her whole body begin to get heavy. Her mind, her eyes, her arms and legs.

Everything was pulled towards the feeling of calm coming from the leaf that bobbed and spun on the mirror-like lake. She could just...

There was a soft thump as Maeve hit the side of the porch followed by a soft snore.

Perhaps she should have asked how to stay awake.
 
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