#aelen bloodsinger

[arcane-fire]

“You missed our last meeting.”

“I’d other business come up. Truly, it was nothing personal.”

He hadn’t even made himself known, she had merely felt him. So many years had passed, and yet she still knew when he was lurking in the shadows. That, or perhaps it was that she could feel her younger sister’s magic rolling off of him. Had she become his new snack? Was it something mutual, the way that she and... These were questions for another time. She looked toward the sound of his voice and the shadows crawled away from Ceithil, revealing him in a dark corner leaning up against the wall. He looked so casual standing there, with his hands clasped before him and his ankles crossed. He looked as though he belonged there. Funny, for someone who rarely left his underground hideout.

Ceithil nodded toward her. “You’re injured.”

Was it so obvious? At the mention, Pamina brought a hand instinctively to her ribs. She’d opted for something much more loose fitting than her usual attire as to not upset her cracked ribs any more than she already had. Dancing the night before had been a stupid, stupid idea, something she had come to realize the moment she had opened her eyes that morning. But she had thought that she was faking it rather well. She never got the chance to defend such a point, as he spoke up again. “I can always tell with you. You try to stand just a little straighter, move a little more stiffly. You overcompensate for your injury, as if you’re not used to moving around with pain. We both know you are.”

He was right, though she would never admit it. She just hadn’t thought about it before.

“Work comes calling, and I answer with…” She trailed off, gesturing to her midsection. “But that’s not why I asked you here.”

“No,” He said, meeting her gaze. Right down to business. “You wanted to speak with me about House D’athion. About your mother.”

“I want it.” She replied.

“As you’ve told me before, though nothing has ever come of it. Why should this time be any different?”

“I’d no motivations beyond wanting something else in my life back then. I felt obligated to fulfill that role with my mother’s death. I want your support. I want the Lotus’ support.”

“And yet she lives,” He remarked blandly. “Thus House D’athion needs no new body to fill its throne. This would have been something to ask of me years ago.”

Pamina stared at him for a heartbeat. Could he really be so naive? “Ceithil, I don’t want to TAKE OVER House D’athion. I want it DESTROYED.”

Ceithil let his gaze drop away from her to the ground, frowning. He didn’t look upset, though. If anything, he looked amused. Pamina could see the smile twinging at the corners of his mouth, and she would have willingly bet money that he wasn’t pleased, he was mocking her.

“Why?” Was all he asked her when he returned his gaze to her face.

“Because she made threats against me. She made threats against my CHILDREN. Everything she touches, she poisons. House D’athion itself is poison.”

“All you are going to do by attacking her is cause her to lash out,” Ceithil said, pushing off of the wall. He stepped out of the shadows and toward her, towering over the spellslinger and looking down at her. “She will come after you. Your family. Your friends. She will set every contact she has out after the lot of you, and you will fail. She will kill you, Nostariel.”

“Not if I take her contacts away, first.”

There was that mocking smile. “It’s precious, that you think you have that sort of reach, but you and I both know that you haven’t that sort of power. Tell me, Nostariel, where does this newfound courage come from? Is it from your new toy? Do I need to put him in his pl-”

“Does Iriseli know who truly fathered Aela and Aelen?” Pamina interrupted him. “Does she know who Aurora is to you?”

The smile faded from Ceithil’s face, the amusement died out of his eyes, and Pamina continued on. “Don’t think that I don’t have contacts of my own, Ceithil, and don’t think me so ignorant and weak. You taught me better than that.”

“What do you want?” Ceithil asked quietly, still staring at her.

“I don’t care what arrangements you have with her. Stay out of my way, and keep your agents out of my way.” Pamina practically spat, turning to leave. “Consider your contract with Xrystiana D’athion and her house terminated.”

He drew in a slow breath. “And in return?”

“In return, I won’t have the too-complicated conversation with your wife about how she is also a step-mother to her half-siblings. I’ll leave that to you to explain, should it ever come to surface.”

“And it won’t.” He said sternly.

“If you keep up your end? No, it won’t. Aela and Aelen can live in blissful ignorance, believing they’re the product of the mighty Sonaj Bloodsinger. Your secret will remain secret. IF.”

She heard Ceithil swallow behind her. She had actually unnerved him. She fought the urge to be giddy about it.

“You have my word.” He said.

“Then we’ve an accord.” Was all Pamina replied before sauntering off. Had she won that fight? Truly? She had expected to leave twice as injured as when she arrived, but he agreed? It took everything she had not to run away before he changed his mind. Step one was complete. Now, it was time to put the rest of her plans into action.

Xrystiana D’athion would not run her life for much longer. She was sure of that.

(( @ceithil @the-shadows-queen @killerpersonality @aelabloodsinger @aelenathos @flame-risen @thelotus-wra @housedathion @iriseli ))

[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 ))