Fae Courts The Spring's Rebirth (Coronation)

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"More importantly, I get this feeling you may be in need of some help or at least someone who will listen."

He offered her out his free hand and bowed to her slight. His eyes directed towards the ground as he did before coming back up to meet her as he continued speaking.

"I am Lord Quacey of Twinhome and it my greatest pleasure to meet with and offer said ear to listen to the most lovely lady at this coronation."

How unusual it was for another to recognize the silent plea for help any creature emanated when faced with the insurmountable. Eske offered him a weary smile, finding the propriety of his greeting a bit tedious if only for the fact that so many other things required her attention. Things more important than titles and gentlemanly gestures or compliments.

She held a bated breath and her thoughts on the matter along with it. Eske was nothing if not the embodiment of what she wished to see in the world. A short bow offered in return, she nodded, "Lady Mirlorne, High Omnia of the Dusk Court. It is a pleasure, Lord Quacey, and I would be glad for your ear ... if it may travel with me?"

A slow, sweeping gesture made with a hand, she directed him away from the celebration proper and toward the grounds surrounding Grovehaven, "I am afraid I have many places to be and more things to do, but you are welcome to join me for this."
 
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Though he would never admit it, the silver-haired King was somewhat flustered by Dianthe's apparent reverence of both him and the haven of life that he'd built from the roots deep within the ground beneath their feet. Of course, a King would often receive such looks of wonderment, but Nairth was far from used to being held in such high regard. Aside from an uncomfortable shift in his seat, however, he showed little sign of it.

"For too long Spring has been without a place to truly call its heart. I had my grove, of course, but the others who lived in these woods with me had to come up with their own accommodations. Spring is small, but I wished for a monument to represent everything it stands for. A beacon that reaches to the skies, reminding all of our existence."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Eske with Quacey, seemingly gesturing for him to take his leave with her. What was she up to? Perhaps she saw fit to share her plight with him as well? San'Seya would need to make time to visit her when things settled down; he had a feeling there was far more to Eske's words than she let on. Flicking his eyes back to Dianthe, Nairth continued.

"Becoming King finally gave me the means to do that. This castle, and the city that I plan on creating to go with it, will be built by my hands alone. The death of Oberon is very unfortunate, but I refuse to let it be for naught. I will carry this court to greatness it has never experienced before."

Dianthe hung on every word, looking at him with eyes of amazement. Drawn to Spring, she said she'd felt... It did make the King wonder. "Are you contemplating a move, Miss Cyrene? I would urge you to be very sure about such an action before you take it. Perhaps I can have the Prince speak with you about the specifics?"

As if hearing himself mentioned from across the Hall, Tharu quickly made his way over to the both of them, a polite smile on his face as he bowed low to Dianthe, and then again to his Father. "Did you need me, Father?"

Dianthe Cyrene
 
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Dianthe listened politely to Nairth, her head slightly tilted as she took in bis words. Yes, it seemed he would take his position very seriously. That was good to know, for she was indeed drawn to the reverence of nature he represented. It coursed through her blood too, and she would be a fool not to follow it.

"I have no doubts that you will do great things, King Nairth. I can see the desire and ambition, as I'm sure all the others here do. You are a force of nature, and you've made that very clear."

Nairth looked from her momentarily, his eyes flicking back to meet hers as he continued. She remembered the words quite clearly from her childhood friend, be careful where you call home. She had made that mistake with Midir, but her heart called to the wild nature of what Spring represented.

"I would love to speak with him, I agree that I should know what I'm getting myself into if I do decide to make a change." She smiled softly as Tharu approached the two. "I enjoyed speaking with you, perhaps we shall again soon." She turned to Tharu, waiting for Nairth to speak with him. She returned his bow with the dip of her own head. Serene and poised, she'd wait for Tharu to lead the way.

Nairth San'Seya
 
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Mab laughed, an easy sound in Aster's lovely company.

"You know, he did notice, though I'm not sure my ensemble impressed him much. I should love to fill you in on all the details... after dinner. At present, I fear we may bore our escorts."

She meant to cast a sympathetic glance toward Baenon, but the shuck was making a graceful departure. Or attempting one before a bird flew by and left a dropping on his shoulder. Mab pretended not to notice as several other figures were approaching. Two other groups were convening with their own and a small crowd was quickly gathering around Mab and Asemir.

"Excuse me a moment, Aster darling," she said gently before they were set upon by the first of the two duos.

First was a face she recognized steering one she did not. She knew The Brothers Vitae in the same way that she knew everyone: through extensive intelligence networks and hours spent listening to gossip from courtiers. However, she did not rise to greet the Lord of the Vitae Court. While they were Kings in some regard, she was still Queen of the Winter Court, and she stood up to defer to no one. Such were the games played by Kings and Queens, and they would have to get used to it if they intended to make it as a major Court.

And what a pleasant sight Lord Wulren was to look up at from her comfortable seat of superiority. He was handsomer than the reports made him out to be. This was the good kind of surprise. Mab smiled and held her hand out expectantly in greeting to that one as his brother's warlock made their introductions. She watched Vulpesen with a keen interest.

"The Vitae Court making an appearance as well. I am not the only recluse here," she remarked coyly. "My apologies that my presence might have cast some shade upon your debut into these esteemed functions. Such was not my intention in coming." There was mischief in the curl of her dark lips as she lifted her gleaming silver eyes to Wulren's. "It has been a very long time since I last left the borders of the Winter Court. Perhaps you can recall the last time I did?"

If he was a duanann of war, then she had no doubt he had sensed the commotion of the last fae war -- and the abrupt halt she had brought it to.

But that was all the more time that interaction had before a much larger fish arrived with a much greater curiosity in tow. Mab looked up at the young duanann at Midir's side. She could entertain the Vitae brothers at any point in this affair, but this one's temper was hot and quick. He was the spitting image of Asemir and Midir. It was uncanny, really, to be able to look at all three of them side by side by side.

Mab nodded her head in greeting to Midir. It was inevitable that they should all be in the same room together, but it was still a little awkward.

She didn't know who Midir was talking about, and Asemir clearly didn't either. But a woman's name had been given. Mab's mouth formed a thin line at the young man's petulant rebuff. Then again, he had been foolish enough to walk up to the Erlking; that sort of impudence did not lend well to expectations that he might uphold similar respects to the Erlking's peers.

The lookalike slapped a letter down on the table, jangling the cutlery and china. Mab sighed, already quite over the theatrics similar to her small child's tantrums. Yet her eyes quickly scanned over the letter, unabashed. Asemir was well acquainted with her nosiness and he was taking so damn long to pick it up. He was practically inviting her to have a look. And look she did. Her brows rose sharply.

Mab was only vaguely aware of the wine Midir poured, but she turned to meet his eye. Her mouth opened to say something but no words came. Speechless was not a word that described her often. She promptly picked up her glass and took a very long drink from it.

Because if the few lines she read were true (and she knew from a single look at Ameris that it was), then Asemir had been barking up her tree for millennia for something he'd unknowingly already had.

This was the bad kind of surprise.
 
Varos smiled at her question, and offered a small nod. "Aye, spying is probably what I'm most known for, though it'd be more accurate to say that I handle the espionage. It's quite rare for me to add a personal touch to such things. Though, I find my duties tend to be rather extensive compared to my brothers. I suppose it could be said that I'm the one that handles all internal matters." His eyes followed Shaillegh's catching sight of the spring king and his present company. "As you'll soon find, there's quite a bit that must be done to keep food on the table and candles in the stands." His eyes darted to the side, catching a passing server who would find their load lightened as a hand swiftly snatched a drink from the platter they were carrying. "You should enjoy what relaxation you can get while you can."

Shaileigh Ilayda


"On the contrary, your radiant appearance may only serve to brighten my first night away from home," Wulren praised, his hand reaching to take hers and bring it to his lips for a light kiss. "And I remember those times. a shame such fun had to end, but I suppose even the grandest wars can become tiring if they are waged beyond their welcome." Wulren had barely had the time to find himself a seat at the table when a drama of epic proportions started to unfold before them. Dinner and a show, he thought. Varous would have found it immensely worthwhile. Rerreno would have found something to say about it. Wulren however, was content to sit back and enjoy being a rather large fly on the wall. "A pleasure to see you as well, Erlking. Nice to know you're still stalkin' about."

Mab Ameris Midir Asemir Aster Tiernan


Heaving a small sigh as he stretched his muscles out beneath the warm water, Rerreno sank a little further into the water. Around him, the clear liquid would take on a golden glimmering sheen as magic poured out from him. The feel of the sudden turbulence jetting across his kin was a fantastic relaxant for the weary diplomat who sank to down to his nose.'
 
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My dearest Ameris,

If you are reading this then I have departed this life. I hope you do not hate me once you are done with this letter. The man who raised you was not your biological father. I know now that I am gone, you have no family left. I do not want you to live that way. I want you to find the other side your family and finally be happy, my son. I, also, want you know understand that your real father does not know you exist so do not blame him. Remember, I love you so much and I am so very sorry for never telling you. Asemir, Lord Kor Aren and Uncle to Queen Titania, is your real father.

With my eternal love,

Marina Vonnlyn


This was why he liked his seclusion and retirement. There were far too many eyes and ears about for Asemir's liking - eyes and ears that had no right to be included on something as personal and private as this. Brow furrowed slightly at the young man's poor manners, he decided to hold his own temper at the impertinence before unraveling just what all the dramatics were about. He took up the letter and read it.

Blinked hard.

Then read it again.

Asemir didn't often find himself caught off guard in a way like this, but by the gods the boy had managed to do it. Those frozen blues of the Dusk Court Triumvir slowly shifted from the letter, purposefully bypassing the three Stooges sitting to his right, and fixed themselves on Ameris.

His first question wanted to be where is your proof? Of course anyone could have made up such a story and, indeed, he'd seen it attempted against others of high station before. But he wasn't entirely sure it was a smart question to make. If nothing else, looking at the man felt nearly like peering at a looking glass and seeing a younger version of himself.

Gently clearing his throat, he folded the letter closed and rose from his seat to face Ameris, "Let's take this conversation somewhere more private," the tone didn't suggest he was asking or that there was room for debate on the subject. He glanced down to Mab and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Forgive me, I'll return as soon as I can. Aster, please keep the Winter Queen company in my stead. I'm sure you both have much to catch up on."

He gave Mab's shoulder a gentle squeeze and offered an apologetic look before stepping away, gesturing for Ameris to follow him. Asemir meant to put a good deal of distance between their conversation and the rest of the party attendees, so he walked until they were well clear of the crowd, isolated on a path through the trees that lead around the eastern side of Grovehaven. When he stopped it was with an air of disturbed wariness, the letter in his hand like a live explosive just waiting to go off.

"This is a very serious allegation ... Ameris," he had to glance at the letter again to see the name it had been addressed to, "it has been over seven thousand years since I have stepped foot in the Summer Court and I have not once, ever, been informed of a ..." the word caught in his chest, wedged beneath his sternum and burning with a terrible fervor, "child."
 
Ameris continued to sneer as Asemir read the letter and then he reread it. It was not long before he was following his father to a more secluded area so they could talk.

Ameris wanted to punch the man as soon as he used the word allegation. Ameris had not toppled his whole life to have himself and his mother a liar. No, this man was his father. You could see it in their faces especially their eyes.

"My mother was not a liar. If she says you are my father then you are my father. I can only guess the man who raised me would have been less than pleased to find out she was carrying your baby and that is why she never spoke it."

Why she never spoke of it and let Ameris get tormented by the bastard for years. Now this father had wrought a different batch of torment to the surface. Killing his brothers in arms on the battlefield.

Father and son. Enemies that had faced off against eachother almost six thousand years ago.

"I don't even know what I wanted from you coming here. Your niece exiled me from my home and that left no choice in the matter. I've lost so much because of you," his voice sounded like someone who had indeed lost everything. The pain inside him raising its ugly head.
 
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A frown of dejection at the younger man's refute settled deeply into Asemir's face.

"You would not believe the amount of women who claimed to have carried and birthed my own progeny simply to get their hands into the royal bloodline of Summer. Some I had never even met in my life..." if he were perfectly honest with himself, Asemir could not remember who Marina was. Even with a photo, he was not sure that he could. His youth had been spent with countless fae warming his bed, and though that was hardly a vice by fae standards he did have his own to uphold. Most notably was the care he took to ensure that any untoward consequences of a night's dalliance would not happen.

He seemed to have slipped up at some point ... allegedly.

There were better, more qualified ways to tell the truth. Appearances could be forged and though he should have been able to tell if he were being fooled by a glamour, Asemir was not particularly skilled at this. No comment was given about the fact that Marina had, apparently, been married at the time as well. How utterly novel.

Asemir gave the man a quick once-over, expression softening slightly into something more of long-acquired and practiced remorse, "You are not the only one to have suffered losses at my hands. War is a merciless beast, regardless of what side you fight on, loss is a universal result of war. But if you are indeed my son, then I feel obligated to help you. I have a home just outside of Mirlorne forest in the guest Grove of the Dusk Court. You are welcome to it until we can ... sort out the details."
 
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She lifted a finger to brush against his cheek as he kissed her hand -- not very subtle, but at had never been described as such. It would be more gossip if she didn't come onto every ruler than if she did. Showing interest in a bedmate was the same as showing respect to an equal. A harmless flirt was a kiss on the cheek or the shake of the hand.

"A shame they had to end, but so all things must," she lamented softly, though was careful not to look toward Asemir. The last was was one of the final strikes of the hammer that shattered their relationship. It was yet unaddressed in their truce, and she yet did not know where they stood on such matters as friends.

Mab was trying to be pleasant and sociable with Wulren, since the Vitae Court was peaceable with Autumn, and a friend of a friend was a friend of hers. But Asemir's alarm (or surprise, perhaps, was the better word) and confusion and this allegation was a lot to take in.

She laid her hand over Asemir's where it came to rest on her shoulder, her delicate fingers offering back a gentle squeeze of their own.

"Of course. We will be right here when your business is concluded. I will not let anyone take your seat." Her smile was honestly as reassuring asab could ever look, the mischief in her angled brows eased and her silver eyes soft as snow instead of sharp as steel.

She watched the two go with an air of curiosity about her. Beneath that cool veneer, however, was a great deal of concern. Allegations such as these were not uncommon for any man of noble birth, much less a King (or a Triumvir in this case) and one whose bloodline placed his offspring in the Summer Court's line of succession. If there was no truth in it, Asemir would be able to snuff out the lie like a weak flame.

This one had some considerable merit. She silently wished him luck and returned to her necessary posturing. Mab turned toward Wulren.

"Tell me how your Court fares," the Queen said to the Vitae Lord. "A little bird told you had some festivities recently. Perhaps I might attend the next one; I do love to see a good exhibition from time to time." A little socializing and then she would indulge her need for girlish chatter with Aster.

 
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Ameris let some of his anger leave him as Asemir spoke to him about the guest Grove of the Dusk Court. He had no where else to go and after seeing his uncle and his father, he was sure that whatever Asemir had in mind to sort out the details would prove that Marina was no liar.

“I will make my way to your court. I look forward to the truth coming out because I know my mother is no liar.” He paused and smiled slightly, “plus…we look exactly alike…”

Ameris said nothing else as he offered Asemir a nod and walked away from his father. They would meet again soon.
 
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Wulren's lips curled into a satisfied grin as he found his seat after leaving Mab's side, having enjoyed the flirtations of one in as high a position as his own. Rerreno was the one for politics, but the soldier had to admit that there was something to be said about dabbling in the specific brand of diplomatic relations that his fellow fae so loved to indulge in. "When one era passes, another is born," the warrior stated, his eyes momentarily moving to follow the lookalikes as they took their leave. "I believe we may be seeing it happen once again, though only time will tell."

As he settled himself down, he looked to his brother's warlock who with every second seemed to shrink into the shadows just like his master. "Go get me an ale, pup. Grab a seat and a drink for yourself while you're at it."

His attention returned to the winter queen and her queries. "We've been doing well. Our home was getting quiet and stale. Varos felt a shift in the winds, so we decided to return to the stage. As for our next soiree, you are of course more than welcome to share our halls. It'd be quite a pleasure to welcome you into our home."

Mab Aster Tiernan Asemir Ameris
 
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Mab was sipping from her wine glass, and watched as Wulren sat. In Asemir's open seat. A daring choice. She permitted it, if only because she was curious. She took in the full sight of him, one brow hitching upward, but said nothing.

"I'm glad to hear the Vitae Court is thriving. It is always fun to see new courts popping up every few millennia. The spirit of rebellion, the pursuit of new dreams, the utter chaos of ropes splitting into finer and finer threads." She giggled behind her wine glass. "Delightful."

The invitation was generous. Too generous. Mab watched Wulren in a way not unlike an owl watched a mouse scurrying around in the grass. She knew for a fact that Wulren was not as meek as a mouse. He was forward and amusing, lacking the refined subtlety that most intrigue required. What he lacked in cunning, however, he made up for in a notoriously thick skull.

Or so the rumors said. Mab was curious if they were correct or if the brute of the Vitae Brothers was playing the Game as well as the rest of them.

"A pleasure, indeed. I shall endeavor to call at your earliest convenience," she smirked. She set down her glass and slid her fingers slowly, deliberately up the stem, her dark nails shining in the verdant light and her fair eyes taking him all in. "Have you hosted any other sovereigns? I'm sure it can be difficult to gain recognition and respect as a budding court, but the dissent amuses me."

A bold statement for a woman whose Court housed far fewer branches than the other seasonal Courts. Winter was the original heretic court -- or, those rebelling against the Summer Court's righteousness -- but Mab (like every Unseelie Queen before her) had meticulously rooted out offspring courts and parlours that did not defer to her ultimate authority. Summer, Spring, and Autumn continued to lose land and authority to differing ideals, but Winter grew and adapted around its people.

Fortunately, Mab was not afraid of being a hypocrite and was a very good liar.

 
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Though he had grown up with court politics and fine dining functions, sitting between beings that he had worshipped as gods for the majority of his life was something that left Vulpesen feeling a bit out of his depth. With this in mind, it was a relief when he was excused to fetch the drinks for himself and the warrior. While Wulren would soon find himself in possession of a large stein, the Zorren ask for himself the strongest thing that a mortal could withstand. He'd need it if he was to keep sane in this arena.

"I'm glad we amuse you so,"
Wulren offered, leaning back as he waited for his brother's familiar to return. "Though we've been around more than a few millennia now. Budding is a difficult way to describe us." He took a moment for himself to collect his thoughts, a hand unconsciously homing in on the pitcher of alcohol that Vulpesen appeared with from behind him. "Though perhaps its accurate in a way. Like blossoms bloom on a tree with the seasons, we also withered and returned. Though our body remains, simply waiting to become noticed once more."

"The leaders of the courts have yet to set foot in our halls as far as I've seen. I've always found it strange. We did what others have not. We became more than what we are. Yes, there was a price, but I would think that should anyone attain the power we have, one would want to get closer to maybe find a way to take it for themselves."
His silver eyes wandered over to Vulpesen who had already drained a frightening amount of his dark amber drink. "Not that my brother would let us give up our secrets so easily. Maybe they've forgotten our power and thus we aren't worthy of attention. Or maybe they fear it." There was a challenge in his voice, not only to the queen before him but to any others that might cast their ears in their direction. As a court, it was true that the Vitae were small, their numbers only now beginning to regrow after centuries of inactivity. But as individuals, the brothers Vitae had dealt with powers beyond their kind, their magic formed not only from ley, but from the divinity of worship.

His eyes returned to Mab, locking with hers as he took a large gulp of ale. "Who knew becoming a god could be so boring. Some company would prove a welcome diversion and you don't seem like one who's afraid of power."
 
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"Of course. We will be right here when your business is concluded. I will not let anyone take your seat."

That very sentence echoed in Asemir's mind as he rounded the bend out of the trees and back into the party proper, blue eyes landing on the Vitae brother in his seat. For a moment he simply stared, tired of this social call already, and heaved a heavy sigh. His years of playing courtly affairs had gone with his departure of the Winter Court - Dusk didn't call for such frivolity and insipid natures.

A younger Asemir would have taken issue with the chair incident. Present day Asemir gladly would have used it as an excuse to leave...if he hadn't come to the event with a particular fae Queen on his arm. He'd be remiss to make an exit without at least involving her in one dance. After all, wasn't that the entire point? More time with Mab to remake that burnt bridge and forge it into something better and stronger? Where fae were concerned, rebuilding bridges always involved dancing.

Besides, the closer he got the better he could see the expression on Mab's face. Wulren didn't know Mab like he did - nobody did, honestly - and Ase saw the intensity of her gaze for what it was. Even made him smile, just a little bit.

Making his way through the tables and crowds, stopping to say hello to a few familiar faces along the way, Asemir found his way to Mab's chair back and gently placed his hands upon the Queen's shoulder. Leaning down, he gave her shoulders a light squeeze before speaking low into her ear, "Dance with me?"

Then reached a hand down over her shoulder for her to take.
 
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