#Gallaria Quel'loras

[galla-xiv]

Chains ask

Gallaria groaned softly. Her head hurt so bad. She slowly opened one eye and regretted that immediately. Moving a hand to rub at her head, the pirate found that she couldn’t move her hand more than a few inches. She opened her eyes, despite the increased pain, and stared at the shackles on her arms.

“The hell?!” The redhead yanked hard on her restraints. No give.

She looked around, trying to see where she was. Her armor lay nearby, her spear tossed haphazardly against it. Thankfully, she was still in possession of her trousers and tshirt. Figuring she only had a small amount of time before her yell would draw her captor to her, she looked down and seeing that her legs were not bound, she quickly tried to formulate a plan and then a plan B.

Whoever had captured her would have hell to pay.

@roepops

[syraniscorthir]

“If I can give you any advice, Syranis, it’s not to grow too attached. Whether I agree with the stupidity of it or not, he’s still enwrapped in his ghost. I doubt he’ll ever let her go. You’d just be setting yourself up for heartache.”

Her last few weeks aboard the Kraken were tumultuous to say the least, but none so much as the final night. It was one that would be burned in her brain until the end of her days, she was certain. She would never unsee the candles alight in his cabin, ones she had set out herself. She would never unfeel his hands on her body, or unhear the words shared by either of them. Worst, she would never forget the feeling in the pit of her stomach when she crept out of his ship and disappeared into the harbor for the final time. She couldn’t forget it; to the day it remained there, lying dormant until it decided she needed a quick reminder of her failures. She couldn’t keep him safe. She couldn’t contend with his lifestyle forever, nor could she hold his interest forever and she knew it. Eventually, his ghosts would catch up with him, and she wouldn’t be able to fight them back. Eventually, both of their ghosts would catch up to them, and Cerothyn would turn from her. He needed something, someone, more, more than she could ever provide. Rather than waiting for such a time to come around, for him to decide to leave her and bestow upon her the same heartache she had carried for Ranalin, she cut the ties herself. She left him with a kiss to his unconscious lips and naught more and didn’t look back as she made it to the shoreline.

However, she kept his bracelet tight around her wrist like a well-guarded secret, a quiet reminder of the man who had accidentally lifted her up out of the darkest pits of her own hell and sent her heart soaring. A reminder of the man who she had willfully left behind, though she wasn’t sure if it was out of fear, ignorance, or selfishness. She knew that she would likely always be sorry.

Perhaps Camsyn had been right all along.

It had been no trouble to find her way back to the D’athion estate, where Baelios welcomed her back with little question and a sour expression. Life as she had previously known it had returned to normal. She did not practice with the eldest Lord in the courtyards any longer. She did not celebrate when Hellscream was struck dead. She did not offer up her services to heal when news of the Legion’s invasion made its way to Quel’thalas. For a year, Syranis donned her pretty formalwear and moved through the droves of the estate’s patrons like water: effortlessly, seamlessly, invisible. She became a ghost once more to the lot of them. Every so often she would catch wind of a new connection made, or one that had expired. Sometimes, Baelios would choose to notice her, and the two would talk long into the night until they were sick of one another.and their talks turned to arguments. When he disappeared to the front lines, she found herself missing those arguments. But she never feared for a lack of his return. Something told her that no matter what, Baelios would always find his way out of dire situations and back home. Unlike his twin, he just seemed that hard to kill.

But everything changed before Baelios returned. Someone beat him back home.

The matron of house D’athion, the evil witch that had brought her into this world and forced her to marry her eldest son, Xrystiana D’athion-Bloodsinger, was alive and well. She had not perished the afternoon that Syranis had walked past her prone form with a swarm of attendants trying to resuscitate her. She wasn’t sure if it was trick, mistake, or intentional, but she had not died. Xrystiana was still breathing, and she swooped back into the estate and took hold of everything like she had never left. The house fell back into debauchery in no time: one couldn’t turn the corner without finding someone partaking in some sort of substance abuse or trying to repopulate the whole of Silvermoon. It wasn’t as shocking to her as it had been in the past, and she attributed her dulled response to her time spent with the Zeddicus brothers. Perhaps not the brothers, just the eldest. Perhaps…

Syranis could no longer float about the house freely. It was no secret to anyone in the family that Lady Xrystiana hated her. She only tolerated her because of her marriage to Ranalin, which had been arranged. Through her House D’athion gained access to all of House Cor’thir’s assets, particularly their gold fundage, but… That had dried up long ago, just like her marriage to the late, eldest Bloodsinger son. In truth, she had no business still being in the house. She was there only of Baelios’ generosity and good will. So rather than wandering, Syranis kept herself locked away tight, hidden, and when she ventured out made sure to dress the part of the most loose D’athion women. No one ever batted an eye at her beyond herself, and that was only when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.

When Baelios returned, they did not speak as frequently, and certainly did not speak of Syranis’ fate should she be discovered. In fact, their meetings were quite rare. At least, until the night that the warrior burst into her quarters unannounced. Lucky for her, she had been sitting fireside drinking her tea and scribbling away into an unmarked tome. He hadn’t knocked nor apologized for his lack of knocking. He only slammed the door shut and stepped into the center of her room.

“Baelios? What are you-”

“I’m leaving the house. Soon. You need to leave, too. You’re not safe here. I can’t protect you anymore.” He interrupted her.

Syranis stared at him over the top of her steaming hot tea -- chamomile; sleep didn’t come easy these nights for her -- and blinked wide, green eyes at him. “You’re joking, right?”

Baelios shook his head. “No, not even a little bit. I can’t contend with what my mother has wrought here, or what she plans to do. She knows of my discontent. It will be no time before she finds a way to get rid of me.”

“What? She wouldn’t get rid of you. The next child in line is Pamina, and Pamina-”

“Doesn’t want to run the house, no. But she’s powerful, as are her children. My mother plans to use them all, though I don’t know how or to what ends. I just know that whatever she plans to do involves Aelen, and I can’t assume it’s ‘safe’ given she drugged Nostariel to bring her here. It’s a small miracle she hasn’t gone after Aela as well. I can’t sit back and condone that, Syranis. I can’t watch it happen. I can’t let it happen. I have to get out of here, I have to make sure my sisters and their children are safe.”

Syranis lowered her mug and looked into her lap. It wasn’t until he continued speaking that he gained her attention. “She has no use for you. You were a pawn, a tool, an asset in marrying my brother. Your house is dried up, you’ve nothing to your name, and Ranalin is dead, as best we know. I’ve seen her kill more useful people for fun, but you don’t mean anything to her. You’re useless to her and you know too much. If she realizes that you’re still here, she’ll kill you.”

The blonde frowned and placed her cup and book on the table near the fireplace. She stood and began to slowly pace the floor of her quarters, her head swimming. She had been careful, so very careful, in her occupancy, but she had never thought about what it would mean if the day came that Xrystiana did find her still in the estate. Despite knowing what Xrystiana was capable of and the horrors that she thrived on, it never occurred to her that she might see her former daughter-in-law as a threat. She never thought that she might kill her.

“What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?” She stopped in front of Baelios and stared up at him, looking mostly terrified. She had managed to bite back the tears stinging her eyes, but she couldn’t mask the crack in her voice. “Lee, House Cor’thir has been gone for years and I haven’t done anything useful to...Light, anybody, since taking the job with Camsyn Zeddicus. What am I supposed to do?”

Baelios stepped forward and drew Syranis into an embrace, one that caused those tears to threaten to spill all over again. She could take a lot of things, but actual comfort, sympathy… She wasn’t so sure. “We’ll figure something out. Don’t panic. I’ve every intention of withdrawing as much of the money here that is mine that I can without drawing suspicion. From there, we’ll… I don’t know. We’ll find someplace. Someplace where I can hide you and my sisters.”

As if on queue, the door to Syranis’ quarters burst open again. In the doorframe stood Lady Xrystiana herself, dressed from head to toe in a deep, royal purple gown, embellished with enough gemstones and sequins to make her a walking fiend made of glitter. Her bright, cherry red lips curved into the cruelest smile the blonde had ever seen as she set heavily shaded eyes on the two of them. “You know, in all of the affairs I have attended to since my return, I always thought that there was something missing, something that I was forgetting. Now, I remember. The Cor’thir girl. Tell me, girl. How is a pesky, mousy little thing like you still breathing?”

Syranis gripped the front of Baelios’ shirt so tightly she feared that it might tear. Her gaze was locked on the D’athion matron and she knew that her terror showed on her face. She couldn’t help it. Baelios was eerily calm. She caught his gaze before he turned around to face his mother.

“We’re to be married,” Baelios said to her, and Syranis was certain the surprise in Xrystiana’s eyes matched her own. “Her marriage to Ranalin was dissolved long before he was stated as deceased. She’s stayed around for me.”

“Really,” Spoke Xrystiana. She crossed her arms and leaned into the doorframe with her shoulder and hip, an amused smirk crossing her features. “And Myriela was what, a clever distraction? We’ve not all forgotten her, Baelios.”

“No,” Baelios said, shaking his head. He reached back to grasp Syranis’ hand. “She stayed to help me get over the pain of losing Myriela. It wasn’t until very recently I realized, and accepted, that I had fallen in love with her. True, she hasn’t an asset to her name, but she still is of noble blood. Between us, we should produce a suitable heir for your line.”

Syranis felt Baelios’ form stiffen with every word. It was a lie, all of it. She hadn’t stayed for Myriela, not at all. When Myriela had been slain, she was still awaiting Ranalin’s return in vain. She hadn’t even liked Myriela, though everyone else had. Something about her rubbed her the wrong way and made her skin crawl, the same way that being around Analeil did for her. When it was later revealed that Myriela and Analeil’s older sister, Ilanthia, had actually been the same person, it all made sense. Something in that bloodline was very, very wrong.

Xrystiana gave a slow nod, then pushed herself off of the doorframe. “Fine. I don’t like it, but I can think of worse courses you could take. If you two are truly to be married, I want it done within the month. I will set the planning for it into motion, and it will be a traditional D’athion wedding. I refuse to allow it to become the circus that the wedding she and Ranalin had became.”

Syranis was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Xrystiana fixed her eyes on her, causing her to bristle all over again. “Don’t thinkt hat I’m not watching you, girl. You’ve overstayed your welcome for someone who isn’t contributing a thing to my family. I expect an heir. Within the year.”

Neither Baelios nor Syranis had time to protest or even speak. Xrystiana had left the room, slamming the heavy, cherrywood door behind her as soon as she had given her warning. Baelios waited until he could no longer hear the clacking of her heels on the stone floors out in the halls before he spun around to face Syranis.

“A month. We have less than a month. I will train you so that you will be able to defend yourself, but you have to work with me. Syranis, we have to get out of here. Sooner than later.”

Syranis blinked up at him. “I..- Gallaria. You told your mother we were to be married. Surely she’ll spread the word. If Gallaria hears th-”

“I will deal with Gallaria. Syranis, you have to stay focused, do you hear me? I bought us time, not safety. We have to get out of here.”

He released her and went for the door. “Start thinking about the things you want to bring with you. We can only take what we can carry. I can try to smuggle some of it out over the next few weeks on my ventures into the city, but there are no guarantees. Get used to the idea of leaving this life, Syranis, and get some sleep. I’m having you fitted for armor in the morning,”

Like always, she didn’t have time to respond. Baelios pulled her bedroom door open, checked the hallways, and was gone within an instant. She stared at the door long after he had left, silent and unmoving, before she collapsed into the chair by the fireplace in tears. There were a lot of things in life that she was equipped for, but this? This was not one of them. She had made a horrible mistake. She never should have returned. She was prone to making mistakes, but she wasn’t sure that this was one that she would come back from.

(( @cerothyn @baelios @the-shadows-queen ))

(( @quelloras @camsyn @sunwhisper @arcane-fire @analeil for mentions ))

[arcane-fire]

"I once considered pursuing Pamina. It was before I met Baelios and in between disastrous relationships. I don't know if that counts as sinful or dark. My daydreams might have run into the naughty arena once or twice where she's concerned." Gallaria blushed slightly and sighed, downing her glass of whiskey.

“You meant to tell this to someone else, didn’t you?” Pamina stepped from behind the curtain, a sculpted brow raised. She looked over the paladin lounging in her chair, from her attire, her face, her drink, the whole lot of it.

“I always wondered what you saw in my brother. Now, I’m wondering if it’s my brother that you saw at all.” The spellslinger purred, coming to sit across from Gallaria. She stared at her for a good, long while before she spoke again.

“Too little too late, I suppose. I can’t say I don’t wonder what you would taste like, or just what it would take you make you unravel. Curiosity left over from earlier times in my life. Analeil still has that burning curiosity, though. Maybe set aside your differences and go see her. I’ll ask her all about it, I assure you.“

[riaevis]

“Faked deaths, near misses... You are either an incredibly lucky man, or your assailants are morbidly stupid.”

“Tell me about it.” Riaevis grumbled as he watched the contents before him boil. Alchemy had never been his strong point, but it had been Pamina’s. That was why he went to her first when he needed his tonics replenished. The reunion hadn’t been as tearful as he’d imagined it being, but he supposed he wasn’t too surprised. His cousin was hardly the soft-hearted little girl he had grown up with anymore.

“And have you seen her yet?” Any of them, for that matter?” He was certain that she caught the look her gave her, because a smug grin crossed her face.

“I figure I’ve given Ana enough heart attacks for one lifetime,” He sighed and crossed the room. He took a seat on the oddly placed, purple, plush-cushioned couch. He could always count on his cousin to never skimp on the niceties, even in her lab. “‘Sides, far as I know, she was in on it. Wouldn’t surprise me. Ain’t like she’s ever told me the truth in her life.”

“You suspect her involvement but not mine? That’s...interesting.” Pamina shook her head and tucked several loose, dark curls behind her ear. Riaevis didn’t even bother to address the sentiment. While he saw her point, they both knew that she would never betray him like that, no matter her involvement in the Lotus or with Ceithil. “I would give her at least a little credit, Riaevis. She was fairly broken up over your death, or your...not-death. As to the rest, Light, really? You know that was a lie in itself. Eiliha is yours.”

“Yeah? How do you know? That’s not what she said.”

“Because look at her. That little girl is you made over, and Lee hasn’t a parental bone in his body. When she told you that, your life was...turbulent. It was a poor, poor attempt at lessening the load.”

When Riaevis didn’t reply, Pamina sighed. “Fine, we’ll discuss something else. Have you seen Gallaria yet? Or Velarianna?”

He fidgeted, then shook his head. “No. I’m still debatin’ on whether or not seein’ Galla’s a good idea. Ari’ll just try to knock me around a little.”

“Ah, yes. I forgot. Your indecision drove her away.”

“My indecision,” He frowned. There was no sense in arguing with her, of course. Riaevis couldn’t even commit to a hair tie for more than a couple of hours, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. “Right… You remember she went ‘n’ got knocked up, right? Then engaged? Then she was all in love with my cousin? You remember how none of that had anything to do with me? And why the hell do I keep losin’ chicks to your brother?”

“It’s the tall, dark, and brooding trope. Just be happy that it was Baelios and not Ranalin, hm?” Pamina began filling several vials with a clear liquid. “So the girl has a track record. So what? I don’t see you giving her a reason to stop.”

“She would if I was what she wanted, yeah?”

Pamina made a small “tch” sound with her tongue against her teeth as she placed the stoppers in the vials. “It doesn’t work like that, dear cousin, and you know it. People aren’t inherently mind readers. Your actions back up your proclamations of love, not a lack thereof.”

“I never said I loved her.”

“You never said you didn’t, either.” Pamina countered. She slid the vials into a velvet, royal purple pouch and pulled it closed with its strings. “Her face brings you out of a comatose state. You dream about her. You keep current with her life, even when you’re not in it. After a year’s absence, you inquire about her well-being, second only to your daughter. You don’t have to admit it if you’d prefer not to, but I’m not stupid and I know you.”

Riaevis accepted the pouch in silence, his frown creasing the lines in his face. Upon seeing them, his cousin simply shrugged.

“Think it over. If you’re fearful she’s angry with you, you’re an idiot. She’ll get over it. Everyone always does. At the least, you were good friends. Is that worth losing?”

The blonde sighed as he pulled himself to his feet. He pocketed the pouch full of tonics and started for the door without acknowledging her question. “Thanks again, Pam. Same time next month?”

“Of course,” She folded her arms over her abdomen, smirking. “Take care of yourself. Give Lady Quel’loras my love.”

Riaevis shut the door behind him with a grimace.

(( @arcane-shadows @quelloras @aridawnseeker ))

[quelloras]

Gallaria Quel’loras

Anger, mismanaged.

Tagged by: blameitonshy and tursidhion-felomelorn

Name of your muse: Gallaria Quel’loras

One picture you like best of your muse’s fc:

Two headcanons you have for your muse that you never told anyone:

Gallaria loathes the concept of going to war over and over again. She’s molded herself so much into a fighter that she feels like a hypocrite if she didn’t go out and fight. It’s an internal battle that might be the death of her sanity one day.

Gallaria wants to be a mother. This is a rather new desire for her but everyone she knows is popping out kids and she sees what other people are gaining and it’s stirring the pot of motherly inclinations and it scares the shit out of her.

Three things that your muse likes doing in their free time:

Gardening-Not a very well kept secret, not that she wants it to be, but Gallaria enjoys working with her flowers and about half her income comes from the flowers she provides the Nobility of Quel’thalas.

Collecting swords and other shiny weapons but mostly swords.

Spending as much time as earthly possible with baelios preferably by the ocean.

Two things your muse regrets:

Not being able to tell off her father before he died

Her mentor’s death. Because of her inability to open up about Arunthil, the death knight went insane and came back into her life, taking the life of Saloaria, the woman who had been like a mother to her.

Two phobias your muse has:

Heights.

Confined, dark spaces

Tag ten people to do the same thing: ALL THE PEOPLE. (I’m lazy.)

[renwyck]

❣ For Gallaria

✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Sexual Attraction✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Romantic Attraction✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Crushing✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧ | Squishing✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Sensual Attraction✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ | Aesthetic Attraction

[ quelloras ]

[analeil]

SICK&TWISTED

Hurk. Okay.

Apologies ahead of time.

azerothiantales

She had waited until the firelight had nearly died in their campsite before moving. She knew he was asleep, the quiet, slow way that his chest rose and fell against the bare skin of her back a telling sign. She knew, however, that she would not disturb him by moving. No, the drugs she had given him would have been working deep within his system by then. Analeil raised her hand and scrubbed at her lips with the back of it, wiping away any of the dried residue from the toxin. She wasn’t fearful of ingesting any of it herself. Years and years of use, and she had built up a partial immunity to it. Too much and she felt a little woozy, but it never truly caused her to lose consciousness. Bonus points for her. One would think that after falling victim to it so many times, Riaevis would have caught on to her games. Apparently not.

The blonde peeled herself out from beneath his arm and the makeshift blanket crafted of their conjoined cloaks and made for the opposite side of their tiny camp. She perched on a rock and duck around in the pockets of her tunic before withdrawing a small vial and one of her knives. The liquid it contained was a bright, bright green, so bright it was nearly glowing in the quickly fading firelight. She popped the tiny cork on it and was even more careful as she began to spread the contents over the tip of the blade, all the way to the middle of it. Sure, it gelled in place after a moment, but the substance she was using wasn’t one that she could merely build up an immunity. No, not this one. This one was lethal to anyone, anything. She wasn’t going to take any chances with it.

Analeil rose to her feet as Riaevis rolled on to his back. She held the blade out and away from her side, keeping it from accidentally touching her skin. She drew herself over Riaevis’ body, seating herself over his hips. It caused him to stir, to blink wearily up at her. The blonde rogue raised the blade over his chest, poised to strike.

“Send my regards to Gallaria, will you?” She spat, plunging the blade in between his ribs before he had the chance to question her. He tried to scream, but to no avail. The already damaged lung wouldn’t take in the air he so desperately needed, and just to punctuate the point she had already made, Analeil ripped the blade from his flesh only to bury it into his skin again, somewhere else more discreet. 

She peeled herself off of him and left the blade within him, quickly gathering her clothes and gear. She had become a professional at gearing up on the run, and now was no different. While latching up her tunic with one hand, she kicked over a bucket of water on to the dwindling fire and dove, releasing Errusea’s bonds with the other. Before anyone could notice otherwise, she was gone, lost to the shadows and leaving Riaevis to writhe around in a pool of his own blood while the corrosive poison slowly ate away at his insides.

[the-kouchfort]

Illy Sends Yule Gifts: Part 3

Delivered to quelloras:

"Dearest Galla,

     I can't ever say how much you've meant to me. Instead of being 'like' my little sister, you simply -are- my little sister. I love you dearly, and hope this gift finds you happy and well.

    Have a flower to remind you of both your mother, and our little garden.

Love you Galabutts, -Illybutts

Yet another carved box arrived with the letter tucked inside along with the gift.

The pendent is crafted of sapphire carved into a flower and somehow made to shimmer as if it were opals.

[riaevis]

Those eyes scorched through his soul like a raging fire. Hers was a heat no water could cool, an ache that nothing seemed to ease. He could almost feel her phantom hands on his skin, her fingers mapping out every muscle and curve of his body, which he found strange. In reality, she had never touched him, not like that, but in his dreams she did, again and again. It was always her and only her. It was always those eyes.

She was in his dreams a lot, usually briefly, but when he took his sleeping tonics it was always intense, more vivid. Her eyes had been the sole thing to pull him from a comatose state years past, and he still couldn’t get her out of his head.

On this particular night, he awoke sweating bullets. His ribs and lung ached, but he guessed it was less because of the former injury and more the way he was breathing. He woke up breathless, panting, and aching for her touch. Carnal desires had little to do with it. He wanted to hold her, to touch her face and breathe in her scent and tell her that she was beautiful. He wanted to apologize for what he had done, even if he had never technically been in the wrong. He wanted to tell her that the time they had spent in Feralas had been one of the best moments of his life. He treasured those memories.

It was funny though, in a way. They had never actually been an item, though they had been close. Still, the torch he held for her he would have argued rivaled what he felt for Analeil. He couldn’t explain it, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. He also couldn’t address it, or tell her. That ship had sailed long ago.

No, all he had left were memories, ghosts, and the dreams of what-if. They weren’t much for keeping him warm at night.

(( @quelloras ))

[quelloras]

♋ - My muse writes about yours. Perhaps the first time they met, or an event that was particularly important to our muses’ relationship.

I don’t know what to think of this but I’llwrite it out and maybe I can make sense of the confusion after I re-read it.

 I’ve met a new friend. Illy Sunmist. She isa Death Knight who I met at a tavern. We ended up getting drunk together, but Iusually do that with strangers and never see them again. This time though…Itook her out to Northrend with me. I am still trying to find Arunthil but Icouldn’t bring myself to say that was the reason I went out there. Well, it isn’tthe sole reason I go up there.

 Anyways…She is…a good camping partner. She’sbeen a patient listener to what I have chosen to open up about. And she is ablast to drink with. I find myself drinking –less- because I blow off steambetter talking through things rather than using the alcohol as a crutch.

 Here now the confusion…I have always beenwary of Death Knights. Not really because of the Lich King or even because ofwhat they are. It feels like a betrayal to my people just thinking that and Ifear even more that if this journal was read by someone looking to do me in…theywould have proof of my compromised morals.

 I don’t want to get attached to her. What ifI do? What if there comes a day where I have to fight her. Because she hasslipped into the blood lust and insanity that comes around to even the mostvigilant of her kind; I can barely stomach the idea of having to fight Arunthilin this state, let alone befriending Illy and facing that same possibility. I’mafraid it is too late. For as much as I rail against fate and destiny, I canfeel in my gut that this woman is going to become one of the most importantpeople in my life.

 Light be with me if I ever have to lay ahand on her in violence. I do not know if I could survive the aftermath…

illirya-ooc

[renwyck]

ϟ

[For every ϟ in my inbox I’ll tell you a random thought my muse has about yours.]

I’m surprised she trusted me like she did. She could have easily attacked me when we met in Duskwood. I still wonder why she didn’t?

[ quelloras ]

[the-kouchfort]

elendori :

"From this no nothing idiot to her new teacher of great strength and beauty, I will do my best to prove myself worthy."

Illy sighed internally, looking up at the girl from her seat on the ground around the supplies.

"There are no heroes here, girl. You've got to learn to survive, and I'm going to teach you that. You're going to hate me before I'm done with you, but I won't ever apologize for what I'm going to put you through. If you live through a fight you wouldn't have before, then all my cruelty, the pain, or deprivation I'm going to put you through will be worth it.  Remember that."

She gestured to the array of supplies gathered around a central area. There were various thicknesses and lengths of wood from tiny splinters and leaves to larger logs for a fire. Near that was a collection of small game, dead, but not prepared in any way. There were tarps and a few thick blankets as well, and ropes of varying lengths.

"With this, you have all you need to create fire, to cook a meal, and to set up shelter for the three of us." She moved to a better spot out of the way, and nodded at the supplies. 

"Get to it."

( elendori quelloras )

[riaevis]

A Different Kind of Struggle

It was a struggle.

He knew that his friends and family often laughed at him (or rolled their eyes, depending on the individual), but it really was a struggle. He could play it off as nothing if he wanted to, but it never really worked. Once everything was quiet, and everyone was gone, he was left alone with the shadows of his past, his own thoughts, and her phantom hands. Drinking didn’t work (it never had) and the thistle only quieted his mind for so long. Reality would eventually rear its ugly head and force him to face it. He wasn’t entirely sure how.

He knew now that, just as she had been before, Analeil would always be just out of his reach. She would always be there, dancing in the flames and tempting him until she could burn him all over again. When she had him where she wanted him, she raged with the fury of a storm. Beautiful yet dangerous and left nothing but destruction in her wake.

One wouldn’t think as much if they saw her now, sitting by the hearth in her apartment and strumming the lute she held in her hands. Their daughter was curled up on a fur blanket between them. She stared up at her mother with such admiration in her eyes. To Eiliha, Analeil could do no wrong. She would always be Min’da, someone who was away all the time and offered no apologies or explanations for it. But she would love her all the same. There had been a time when Riaevis felt the same way about her. Maybe he always would.

He had spurned more women than he could count since Eiliha’s birth. It wasn’t something he noted for ego’s sake, merely fact, and not one he was terribly proud of. He was flattered by their attention of course, but his heart had been tied up by the first love of his life. Even when she had wanted him far away from her and claimed to hate him the most, he had remained true to her. Was he a fool for his loyalty? Or was he just truly in love?

Analeil sang of past loves and perfect romances and Eiliha listened intently. Her stories were not a biography, just more fairy tales one would tell to a child. Believable, perhaps, unless you were learned in the ways of the world. Unless you knew her better than the tales that she liked to tell.

Though the women he had turned away had been plentiful, there had only been two that he had ever felt any regret over and that he had ever felt anything for at all. Velarianna Dawnseeker had been the first. A friend of his cousin Pamina’s, she was a Farstrider like Ana, though much younger. She wasn’t half as naive as he had perceived her to be, but he had turned her away all the same. Despite how hard she had tried to get through to him, Riaevis would have none of it. She ended up with some gladiator sort as a beau and the two rarely saw one another after that. She was happy, he gathered. He was somewhat surprised that she hadn’t moved out of their apartment yet.

Gallaria Quel’loras had been the second, but she had been different. They hadn’t met through any friends or family members. They had met by chance after Gallaria had been hurt by someone else. She was coping in the same ways that Riaevis had always chosen to cope. She had hinted, quite briefly, at being attracted to him, but she had never outright said it. In most ways, the woman was still a mystery to him.

Perhaps that was why now, despite sitting only inches from the woman he had come to know as his own, he could think of nothing more than the redhead he had dubbed “Softy”. She had never tried to push anything on him, never actively pursued him. She had left the chase to him, if he had wanted to pursue, and her door remained open. She had not berated him for openings left ignored, or simply not taken. She waited. He had not seen her in quite some time and though he tried his damnedest, his heart yearned.

Mid-song, Riaevis pulled himself off of the the rug behind Eiliha and headed for the door. He heard the sound of Analeil’s hand hitting the strings, but he was out of her apartment before she could ever ask where he was going.

[riaevis]

[6.]I think you need to close your mouth, ‘cause you ain’t gonna tie me down.

The last time I wrote in here, I was restless and ready to get out of this house. House? Apartment. Whatever the fuck it’s called. I don’t see the inside of it enough to care about what it’s supposed to be called.

I really need to update this shit more often. It’d be a lot easier to remember everything in detail if I did, but I’m not much like Pamina. I don’t have a penchant for the pen and paper and most of the time can’t be bothered to do it. I don’t know why. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do, right? Right. Okay. Let’s try and start at the beginning.

Ari started seeing armorguy Kor’ethar. Like, officially. What does “officially seeing” mean, anyway? Does that mean when it’s unofficial, your eyes are closed and you’re just taking guesses at which end is their head and which end is their ass? Whatever. Anyway. That didn’t stop her from coming and finding me and telling me about all of it out in my spot out by the water. On top of that, it didn’t stop her from coming on to me. I really hate that terminology. There’s got to be a better way to word it. “Threw herself at me”? Not exactly. “Laid on the charms heavi”- you know what? Fuck it. Doesn’t matter.

I thought that by the time Ari would actually come out and say something about how she felt about me, I’d be ready. Damn, that sounds egotistical. I don’t mean for it to. It’s just that everyone else has been telling me she felt the way she did, for years now. Pamina, Melidias, Ana, Atna, whatever that floaty bitch’s name was… Everyone but her. So I waited. And waited. And waited. And when she finally said something, I was off-guard. Hearing it wasn’t half as easy as I imagined it’d be. There were no fancy violins playing, no me sweeping her off her feet and taking her into my arms as the sun set, none of that shit. Instead there was me stumbling and stammering and falling all over myself and telling her I couldn’t, until she told me to leave. So I did.

All this bad-mouthing Analeil and what we had, all this trying to get up and over her any which way I could, all this telling myself I was ready for someone who actually gave a damn about me and it hit me like a fucking tidal wave. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it. I don’t want to put myself through it again, and I sure as hell don’t want to put Eiliha through the shit storm it would cause. I don’t want it at all.

I did get out for awhile. Met another girl, another redhead (I see a pattern here, Book), in the same place where I walked away from Ari. Her name’s Gallaria, she’s pretty cool. We sat and talked on a piece of driftwood until the sun came up, then slept together. Uh, literally. I haven’t fallen down that low, I promise. Anyway. I took her on a trip to Feralas a couple of weeks ago, just camping out and hanging out and roughing it, all of that. It was nice to get away, really. No Analeil. No bullshit with her and no temptation to “try” every time she skirts her skinny ass in my door frame. No Ari. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike the girl at all, but between her and Ana I’m losing my mind. I can’t handle all that stress and all the pressuring and whatever else they throw at me. My life’s never been about all of that. Maybe that’s where I went wrong with Ana…

Anyway. Feralas was great. I think I might have a third problem on my hands now though, even if it hasn’t exactly been said. It’s just a feeling I get, you know? Well no, you don’t. You’re a book. I can pretend.

Ari left me a note while I was gone, wanting to get together and talk about things. Never did see her in person, so I left her one in return asking when and where. She replied and…uh. Oops. I might’ve missed that mark by a couple of weeks. I just cannot be arsed to give a damn anymore.

Kelaris is back in the City. It was good to see another familiar face, no offense to Pamina and Mel of course. I love the girls to death, but it’s nice to hang out with the male side of the family every now and then. Speaking of, if he’s back, I wonder if Baelios and Ranalin are, too? That might be a good cue for me to get OUT of the City.

I have been thinking about picking up my bow again. Maybe all of this is a good excuse. No, maybe it’s the perfect excuse.

[quelloras]

RP continued...

From here: http://captainstormcrow.tumblr.com/post/114615932536/throws-s-from-the-distance

Gallaria gave a wide smile. “No harm in smiling or paying compliments.” She crossed her feet, relaxing and swinging her legs to and fro. The paladin pushed her hair away from her face.

“Neither. I was curious as to why my brother’s been coming down here more frequently. And I needed to get away from the daily hassle of running a business. Leisure time and all that.” captainstormcrow  (Apologies that I didn’t find this sooner. Tumblr ate your reply.)

[quelloras]

24. Dreams

The last time I picked this journal up, my thoughts were scattered and the resolve to which I hold to was slipping. My thoughts are no less scattered but I’ve resolved to hold onto what I have.

 My dreams have drifted back to a part of my past that is still tattered and torn and raw. She continues to live under my roof, but I barely talk with her. I promised her so many things, but I am coming to find that I cannot heal her wounds for her. I am not my father and I loved hers as much as she did.

 My uncle was more of a father to me than my own. I still do not understand my father’s hatred of a man that literally did nothing to spark such a feeling. In his own twisted way, my father had everything he could have wanted.

 Elendori has suffered just as much as I have in Illy’s absence. The Knight has been her mentor in most things and has filled a role that should by rights be mine. There is an unspoken enmity when we do meet. She resents her time here now more than ever. She has learned quite a bit since she first came to stay here.

 I think the best thing I could do for her is to try and find a way to close the gap between us and give her freedom to come and go as she pleases. Heaven knows I never did well at her age by being told to stay put and behave.