Thank all the gods that the next few days came and went without disaster, mayhem, or further strife. Archimedes seemed to need his time and Calia let him have it. Not without luring him into a new game of catch this magic ball at completely random moments when she did spot him, but it was as far as she went. It was enough to make sure he knew she was available and not some stomping ball of rage. Those emotions she channeled through practicing with her new sword in the sparring gardens, including taking up the challenge of a fight with a couple willing volunteers.
It was a lesson for everyone. For Calia to not underestimate the combat training of elves as she got knocked on her ass the first time. For the guardsman that discovered you could only knock Calia on her ass once, because after that she knew your tricks and she was oh so swift to retaliate.
The rest of her time she spent outside as much as possible, in the meadow lazing around or more often than not, playing with magic where she wasn’t going to accidentally hurt anyone. Not that she tried anything particularly large or difficult… to the contrary, she was attempting to learn how to be a little more subtle with it. Subtle and intricate and detailed, having found herself inspired by a beautiful magic city of sparkles.
Sometimes she ran around with the fae jackals and not a single person needed to know what they got up to. It was no one’s business.
Finally it came the day of the planned celebration for the wee newborn prince. Now that the father had returned from his mission and all had been arranged, the courtyard of the great faerie tree had been transformed into a beautiful magical space filled with glowing lights, gorgeous tapestries, music and good food.
At first Calia was certain Nysia was going to dress her up as a bubblegum giant cupcake, as the monstrous elven girl had asked her specifically what her least favorite color was. It could mean anything good! Especially when Nysia arrived to Calia’s suite dressed in the obnoxious spring green tired cake of a gown covered in flowers and lace.
So it was absolute stunning surprise to find out the gown provided for her was not the ugliest thing in the universe, nor something so out of orbit for what Calia would’ve chosen to wear herself. A gorgeous blue layered silk with silver beading and embellishments, while it was distinctly elven it also had this faeish flare. When Calia put it on and pulled her ebony hair back out of her face, she looked like she’d walked up out of a mountain pool and was gilded with ice. She loved it, not that she would admit it to Nysia.
It was on Nysia’s arm (well as close as she could get to Nysia in that dumb dress of hers) that Calia entered the glassed in courtyard, in a far more pleasant mood than she’d expected. The Crowned Princess Liriel was there already looking a vision of pink elegance, with wee babe in her arms and the proud father Rhiann at her side. The man sure wasn’t what Calia expected to be married to Liriel, with his jolly exterior and endless smiles. Then again when he looked at his wife, she could see it, as he was nothing but warmth and fondness and pure adoration towards the Crowned Princess and that of the little newborn prince.
Now all Calia had to do was get through the evening without causing a political disaster.
At some point it had stopped being surprising when the only person outside Calia that seemed to show up to play the game of show me magic so I can one up you, that Aien was the one that actually spent considerable time with him. It hadn’t been expected or demanded. If anything, it was a quiet relief that the slightly younger man had selected himself to be a unconditional companion. Through even the moments where perhaps he was putting on the airs that comfortable seclusion was preferred. Silently appreciation that Aien just was a presence between just being anywhere else that he wasn’t seen or in the way of most of the royal family. Not quite sure he could form the words yet that wanted to give appreciation to the man for being a friend even if he hardly deserved one. Especially one that just was content to be in each other’s company.
Of course the man had questions. One’s only he could answer and rightly were being given.
By the time the day of the celebration had come, he had sequestered into that old study that had been practically his home at one point. Sleeping here. Eating here. Rinse and repeat.
He’d pulled apart the study, grabbing old research notes and arranging them with others that were originally written in riddles. Between seemingly nonsense to just long winded gobbly goo that for an untrained eye or someone who didn’t know how his mind worked –while being able to read elvish- wouldn’t have even questioned. Research ledgers written incomplete that would fit to another that seemed no way connected.
So imagine his surprise when the man pushed open the door to the study practically torn apart, eyes flickering to the stacks of pulled books in their piling towers and him using the desk to sit on rather than chair. Eyeing the blue and black attire with its almost peacock essence behind it. Hair pulled back into a neat ribbon tied tail and beard neatly tidied. Trimmed. Clean and looking nowhere near as bearish has he had been lately. He hadn’t at all expected the fellow to appear considering it was his nephew’s celebration of life. Likely plenty busy with all the political matters and appearances that came with being royalty.
Aien offered a tight lipped smile that spoke volumes, Arc merely nodding. “Just came to check on you before the celebration.”
Another nod and a gesture that had a book being lifted off further pile by the phantom hand conquered by demonic magic rather than arcane. “The castle will be plenty busy today, will you be comfortable.”
“Yah need not worry, there will be no appearances of myself to darken or ruin the day for Liriel and her wee lad.” Reading between lines for most, Aien frowned, “Yah can’t be tellin’ me any differently, yah just may not be bold enough to say it. Once I am finished compilin’ the stuff I need, the study will be turned back to a fine example of what not to do for those of the mage consideration and I’ll be well out of reach in case any wily tots go runnin’ through.”
Mouth opened and shut a moment. Aien seeming at a loss for words at least for a moment. Eventually finding strength, “Once eve rolls around and the dancing is in full swing, try not to hide too well. I’ll come to find you.”
“Yah need not too. I know how important these celebrations are. I’ve been to enough of them.” Straightening back Arc offered a grin. Lacklustre but toothy all the same. “Go on now, people guna be wonderin’ where the eldest uncle has gotten off too. Wouldn’t want to have yer wife chastisin’ yah like a tot.” Aien laughed at that even if it was probably more likely than not. “Tell Liriel my…” Arc stopped and shook his head. “Say nothin’ best not curse someone. Don’t let the door hit yah on the way out, Prince Aien.”
With a chuckle, the man departed with a flare of cloth.
One royal party was like any royal party, Calia discovered along with the fact they were still just as awkward and uncomfortable as ever. At least the only reason she was getting stares and whispers was because she was a foreign princess, a round eared human, and now demon wrangler. That wasn’t exactly a great reason to be center of attention, but Calia supposed she’d take that over having a bunch of single noblemen trying charm and woo her. Her reputation here was enough to ward off any of those potential offers.
Nysia on the other hand was getting more attention than she knew what to do with. Her other dates had gone about as one would expect, where the girl was trying to force a romantic connection with young men she’d quickly realize by the end of the day were not even remotely compatible for her. Thanks to willful shenanigans of her human guest, for every man she crossed off her list, three more were taking their place. While she was thrilled when the attention came in the form of letters, notes and gifts… Nysia was now finding herself constantly flanked here at the party, always some man trying to chat her up and impress her that she was growing sick of it!
Calia helped at first, being a buffer in conversations or giving Nysia whispered suggestions on whom she might want to avoid. She had her own impressions on some of these ill-suited suitors, and with surprise, so did the faerie tree. Offering it’s own gentle nudges here and there that Calia would then relay. Seeming to be having the time of it’s life being witness to all of the lives mingling beneath her, with the added bonus of getting to meddle through the one avatar that could hear her.
When Nysia was whisked away for dances, meddling on behalf of the faerie tree is exactly what Calia did. Actually glad herself that she could be put to use instead of just being a well-dressed wall flower. Most of the tree’s desires leaned towards well deserve mischief, a little spreading of information to the right ears, and apparently orchestrating moments of romance in ways Princess Nysia wished she could do.
With the subtlest of touches Calia gave one elder a wardrobe malfunction, with no explanation from the tree beyond cruel to little ones. Another got an enchantment of having all of his drinks taste extra salty, for it seemed when he drank too much he tended to blabber embarrassing things about the Queen’s youth. A recently married young couple seemed to be disgruntled with each other, and that required multiple steps of orchestrating to get them to step aside into a cozy little nook of the courtyard to a bench where the hanging blue blossoms smelled the sweetest.
Calia had never been one to meddle in the lives of others, only ever really being a spectator. Now she was understanding why Nysia loved doing it so much, as there was an appeal in seeing your efforts come together.
A gentle tugging from the tree had Calia coming to stand near it’s massive trunk, where she was then privy to a very curious conversation.
“I’m going to do it. I’m to tell her all about my stallions and ask her to come spend a weekend at the ranch,” declared a young man. When Calia took a peek, he seemed to be dressed so overly fancy with ruffled cravat and tight pants that it was a wonder he could even walk. A beautiful, pretty blond that was sure to smile and dazzle any girl.
“Good luck with that,” murmured the one with him, taking a heavy swallow of his drink. This one at least dressed with some sense, in Calia’s opinion, though he looked just as nice. A well cut vest in a flattering green, that same long golden blond hair. Though she still wasn’t great with recognizing the different family eye colors, with the two standing next to each other, she could see the identical aqua blues and the similarities in their faces. Brothers or cousins, most likely.
“You know, if you’re going to be sour about it, you could always put your hat in the ring too. If you’re that in love with her, Pernell, I won’t pursue!” insisted the fancy-pants.
The other man snorted. “I’m not going to participate in Nysia’s games. If you want to be made a fool of, have at it. I’m going to get another drink.”
The two scuttled away arguing and Calia glanced upwards at the branches of the tree. It seemed the crowned princess was not the only one that wanted to see Nysia finally settle in. With this tidbit of information in mind, Calia rounded the tree until she found the future queen and prince consort. Hesitant at first to approach at all, but giving her very best of a polite simple bow.
“Well wishes to the little prince, I hope his life grows happy and full,” she greeted first, it was his special day after all.
Crowed Princess Liriel smiled wide and beaming, in a way that made her so truly stunning that even Calia was a little bit dazzled by her! Despite recent events being difficult, Liriel must have found her peace with them, not to mention being so well suited for motherhood and being reunited with her other half again.
“Thank you, Princess Calia. You have met my love, Rhiann,” her gestured to the handsome, jovial man beside her. Who didn’t hesitate in the slightest to grab both of Calia’s hands in his own for an enthusiastic shaking.
“Yes, we meet again!” exclaimed the man with excitement. Calia had met him on his arrival back to the palace, and he was so unlike the other royals in the palace with his bouncy charm it was almost enough to get her grinning wide. He was also a mage in his own right, though without the skills to be any sort of master. “How is the practice going? Less soreness in the guts?”
Calia gave a small shrug. “I have stuck to small magic for now, but I’m sure I’ll get there.” All of that practice of hers was for sure not because she needed to know how to use magic itself, but training her body how to draw it from an outside source without using physical muscle to do so. It was slow going. “I was actually wondering who a Pernell, is?” she questioned directly to Liriel.
The future queen gave her a curious look. “Pernell Windsong? He trains hawks and messenger birds for our household and the noble families and is quite adept at it. Why do you ask?”
“I heard him and another discussing Nysia of just whom was and was not going to attempt to woo her,” mentioned Calia. “With Pernell being not so keen to be made a fool of by Nysia’s suitor nonsense.” Was this throwing several people under a carriage of potential mayhem? Maybe! The fae tree was thrilled, though, so Calia was happy to entertain.
Liriel blinked in surprised before erupting into a musical laugh. “I see! The young man was one of Nysia’s Scholar Companions. It is tradition for the children of royals to be surrounded by those around the same age, to grow and do their studies together. They are very good friends. Or, I suppose Nysia would say they were rivals. They were quite competitive.”
“The tree likes him a great deal. If Nysia never comes to her senses, I cannot think of a better endorsement for a betrothal,” she heartlessly suggested. With all she’d learned of Nysia, this might just be one of those situations where an arranged marriage was the best case scenario! For her own good!
The way Liriel turned to give the tree an amused smile, it seemed this suggestion had merit. Murmuring something soft to bundle in her arms and then to husband, the crowned princess passed babe over to the man. Gesturing softly for Calia to come along with her to a safe distance away for a private conversation.
“He has a heart made of glass,” stated the princess. Getting not more than complete confusion at the statement, because she’d assumed at first that she meant the young elf Pernell! Only Liriel continued with clarification. “Archimedes. He loved us, Calia. With every fiber of his soul, he loved my elder brother, me, the entire family and his own. He loved us all so much he shattered himself, only for us in our grief to blame him and curse him.”
Calia was silent for a moment, still confused about why this even felt the need to be said. “I know all of this,” she started to say, only for Liriel to smile that motherly smile and shake her head.
“You know facts, this is true. I am well aware he is not here because he believes his presence is unwelcomed. He may also not wish to see me now in this new life. But be aware yourself, princess, for your future with him, whatever shape it takes. The man is fragile and sensitive. A kindred soul to yourself, for he feels deeply and that facade of nonchalance he likes to wear is nothing but that. A facade. Do not let him hide himself away and try to take on burdens alone. He is not a man that does well on his own.”
This was not the words she’d been expecting, and naturally her immediate thought was that there was nothing fragile or sensitive about Archimedes! If she’d known too that Liriel had given the man a very similarly worded bit of advice, she might’ve thought Liriel was just jerking on both their leashes! Alas, she didn’t… and perhaps a bit of it lingered there, taking shape in her thoughts to connect dots here and there.
“He doesn’t make it easy to talk to him,” she answered, honestly. It’s not as if Calia hadn’t been making several attempts to develop any sort of friendship with the man!
“No, he doesn’t. Is he not at least worth the efforts to try?” asked Liriel with that beaming smile.
And Calia had no choice but to admit the woman was correct. Because did she not herself wish someone would make the efforts with her? To actually get to know her beyond the surface of her reputation, or status, or now traumatic history. Archimedes himself too had all of that in abundance. Including sharing this great big hole of being disconnected from the world. Belonging to nowhere and no one. If it was that lonely for herself, then it no doubt was just as terrible for him.
A few more words were exchanged before the Crowned Princess returned to babe and husband, leaving Calia to mull over these new thoughts. Glancing upwards at the gentle natural sway of the fae tree, who seemed to also agree with this softly given lecture from the future queen. Thinking to herself that maybe her efforts of leaving the man alone was no longer the right course. Perhaps it was time for her to be… aggressively friendly? Annoying, most likely.
There was just the matter of how to do so, leaving Calia wandering the crowded courtyard people watching as she pondered just how.
The very place was practically beaming with life and various flows of manna. Thick and swarming through the grand court outwards. Spilling into halls to where nobles were let go like free ranged chickens. Areas that they were not permitted to enter being suitably blocked by guards that were in no mood to be potentially teased or flirted or bribed to do otherwise. Shooing nosy souls away and warding anyone that might have been looking to try their luck in shenanigans or a more devious sort. Hardly anything new and it was a bit surprising to have slipped out at some point –with a use of glamour to evade any one as he stated he would – to find that things even this long hadn’t really changed!
It was both good. And bad.
Thankfully it meant that more people were far interested in rubbing elbows, talking gossip and seeing just who they could goad into potentially questionable situations at all!
He’d intended to just slip away of course. Managing successfully as feet had found their way back to at least the gazebo. With it being so unkempt and a bit away from the palace, people weren’t frequenting their way out here to make googly eyes and kissy faces. If not fully leaping into the nearest bush to get acquainted with nature.
A few supplies had been brought along and intended to test just a few old minor notes he had to determine if they were still applicable or not. Things he used to do for a quick coin. Sometimes they worked, sometimes he was no better than snakeoil. Of course as a youth, his morals were shoddy. As a demon, well… they still were!
Conflicting the returned morality that was far too aware of misbehaving was a ill tiding action. Especially after it all. But coin was still going to be needed and if there was some false promises, then that wasn’t entirely his fault. One just had to angle their pitch to sound like it was perfect but slide in tones and words that implied loudly that it was up to consumer discretion whether it worked or not.
A pulse of violet energy surged from fingertips, looking over the bits of worn parchment pulled from books. Muttering low to himself with brow furrowed. Letters aligned upon the paper after a moment . Reading words “Blend the essence of dusk with the breath of the eternal.” Giving freedom to manifest a vial of shimmering blue liquid that had once been harvested from the last light of a dying sun. Looking at it and highly questioning if it was still any good. Uncorking the vial to see a bare puff of mist but it ought to have given a bit of light. So it really had been spoiled, leaving him to wonder just what he could do with expired essence of dusk!
“Do you know how bothersome it is to make an old man find you, Archimedes?” Ears pricked and eyes narrowed over his shoulder. Taking in the old man walking with the assistance of a gnarled tree root turned into a staff. “You’ve been in this place for nearly a week or more and yet, I thought you would have come to find me. Especially after such a reawakening of memories.”
“Omal.” His silver hair cascaded like flowing silk with brown golden eyes still burning with wisdom carved from centuries of victories, failures, and regrets. Dusting hands off with a setting down of the vial with cork replaced, he gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m surprised that yah even bothered at all. Or is this for yah to gloat? To remind me all the more that yah warned me about how magic is borrowed and every spell casted demands a price.”
With a bare tick to the corner of mouth, Omal shook his head. “I think you’ve learnt that lesson better than anyone, Archimedes. Though it doesn’t hurt to be reminded of it.”
“Ought to be givin’ such a lecture to that of yer former Master of Research.” That sentence clearly bothered the old man. Flinching and cursing softly against lips, head was shaken. “The only reason yah didn’t have a new repeat of an old mistakes was due to Renus and Calia.” A sorcerer, his body withered to bone, trapped in an endless loop of time of each consequence of another’s actions.
“You are not incorrect but I didn’t come to find you just to have a banter of what ifs. I came to see you as Teacher and Student.” Omal stepped closer, straining neck upwards to look at him. Eyes taking in every change, every shift. Probing deep without touch before bearded face offered a weak sigh and laugh. “Ashera told me what happened. What occurred to Prince Carlisle.”
Stiffening unintentionally before turning away to grab something to occupy his hands, Arc gave a breezy chuckle. “He was always someone who meant every action and word he did. Right up to the very last moment. Always with a purpose.” Hands tensed threatening to crumple paper within it. Just turning to grin at Omal. “He made sure that his death was as dramatic and elaborate too. A true Evindal. King Wyn would have been oh so proud.” With a soft hum and a motion that dispersed the collected pages into… well somewhere. A space only accessed by himself, Arc opened his arms wide.
Violet eyes gleaming brightly. Lips pulled into a fanged grin, “Yah’ve gotten yer answers Omal! And yah now can put an official face to the fall of the former Arch Mage. Rise and catastrophic fall. One responsible for unleashing waves of demons into the lands of Edelguard and likely beyond. Hubris manifested in a physical formed. Horned and fanged. Beast of devils themselves and leech of grandeur.” The demon made a triumphant sound under the old man’s stare, “Pleased to meet yah, Mage Advisor Omal.” And it faded as swiftly, “Yah got yer look, now go away Omal.”
Of course the old man wouldn’t go. Rather helping himself over to manifest a wooden bench with the help of the trees nearby. Practically creaking down to sit and looked out amongst the pond. The distant sound of celebration and eyes drawn up to the sky. “We all make mistakes. Some more than others. Some worse than others.” Arc giggled at it as if it weren’t really a big deal. “You’re no longer my student, Archimedes. Nor the Mage Advisor. Citizen of Edelguard. Silverstone or Bloodworth.” His knowing eyes flicked at him, “I’m sure it’s causing you great deals of distress. To suddenly be given back what was taken and it’s not even the same as it had once been.”
“Please,” Scoffing at the whole thing, “I may not be elf but I’ve got my arcane magic back. And demonic energy. I dare say I’m doin’ better than before. Just limited by a leash as fairly is a very good call. Who knows what other mischief and destruction I would cause just out of sheer boredom.” Even in his own ears, the words sounded so hollow. But as if he were going to admit to that. “Don’t yah have wee babies to kiss and anoint with pious words. Queen Ashera and Princess Liriel is guna want yah. Don’t be shirkin’ duties now, old man.”
Lips pulled into a smile. Evidently he was not going anywhere.
Stubborn bastard.
What Calia wouldn’t give to be drunk out of her mind right now – it’d surely make this endless ball less of a chore. She’d been refraining from drinking anything out of respect for the wee child and it’s parents, as what sort of person would she be to get smashed at a baby’s shower. At least the trays of food being carried around made for a nice treat. Sampling cheeses and fruits, little rolls of meats and baked pastries when she found them. Washing all down with a simple cider that was tart and refreshing, even if it didn’t give her that relaxing wave of warmth she’d wanted.
The princess found herself near the tree trunk again, this time placing hand against the bark and silently weaving a few bits of ambience to add to this party, just for the sake of entertaining herself. To raise a soft foggy mist from the ground, to roll in gentle wisps and give the courtyard that much more of an ethereal magical feel. To lend gentle breeze through the leaves and flowers, so that the place would not be stuffy and over warm.
Little fireflies of varying hues and tiny butterflies to gradually crawl out from the branches and take fluttering flight. That one was her favorite. Giving her a satisfied thrill when a small child guest squealed excitement on having one of the little bugs land on them.
This was truly the best way to use magic. Nothing would convince her otherwise.
Then out of no where, Nysia was grabbing her wrist and tugging her off to hide behind one of the grand columns that existed in the courtyard. Looking as if she’d been running sprints outside in the meadows, and oh so done with this entire event.
“I have had enough!” hissed the elven princess. “Please make it stop, I never want to speak to another man again!”
Not quite what Calia was expecting and damnit all if she did not immediately burst into loud laughter, much to Nysia’s annoyance who promptly tried to cover the woman’s mouth to shush her before anyone saw where they were.
“This isn’t funny or fun anymore! They are all idiots, did you know that? Of course you did, you’re an annoyingly clever little thing, well how was I supposed to know.” lamented Nysia. Calia might’ve piped in that she could’ve known if she’d spent time with the gentleman in the first place instead of playing her long distance game of shallow platitudes, but Nysia was still speaking. “I’m done! This is all too much trouble, and who needs a husband anyway, I’ll just borrow my nieces and nephews.”
“That is fair,” Calia answered, doing shockingly well at keeping her tone of voice even instead of bursting into further laughter. “Best to put it all to rest now, I’ve already heard of another who wanted to come regail you of horses.” Leaving it with that, Calia glanced around until she could point out mister fancy-pants blond, and his companion Pernell.
“Oh no, not Neville, I’d rather get trampled by those horses. And he is Pernell’s cousin besides,” complained Nysia with a wrinkle of her nose. Calia immediately asked Who is Pernell, neglecting to mention she’d already learned from Nysia’s elder sister. “That’s just Neville’s cousin,” grumbled Nysia. “We used to study together and he always refused to just give me his notes. He always accused me of trying to steal them so we’d just sit in the library and study them together. He’s probably the only man here not chasing me now!”
“I can see you stealing his notes,” remarked Calia with no apologies. “Sounds like he would be a good person to chat with and relax, to get away from all of that attention,”
Nysia seemed doubtful at first, then it slowly dawned on her. “…you’re right! I ought to have him come dance with me so I don’t have to talk to anyone at all! Thank you!” She gave the mountain princess a squeeze to her arm and bustled off in her springy green silks.
Poor Pernell, Calia thought. Wrapped up into Nysia’s nonsense by way of meddling faerie witch princess and an ancient tree. Or was it helping? Who knew!
Calia wandered the party watching others, for who knew how long. Not exciting, not boring… somewhere inbetween of finding amusement in sort of soaking in the atmosphere of people just living their lives. She could see how the tree enjoyed this, to have so much life scurrying around under her branches. It wasn’t lonely – not for a tree anyway. This was exactly the sort of life a tree loved. To be a home for creatures of all sorts of sizes, living and loving all around her. A nourishment none of these people even knew they were giving to the great tree.
There was no telling how long she stood there, just appreciating being a quiet witness, when a twinge of something in her chest gave her pause. Faint at first, until there was this sudden ice cold rush that felt as if all the blood had drained out of her. Reaching up to place a hand against her chest where empty cavity suddenly squeezed with such an intensity she’d thought something stabbed her in the lungs.
Panic, absolute panic filled her, though on the outside it didn’t show. She turned on a heel for an exist, any exist out of the courtyard, finding that with every single step the pain grew worst. More piercing, more stabbing, to the lengths that she was struggling to take in a breath. Out of the courtyard she went, staggering into the halls of the palace until she found one silent and empty. Letting out a choked sound, as the pain just kept growing!
She was dying! That was the only thing Calia could assume, as she tried to fight it. That somewhere out there she was finally meeting her end through means of her heart, having her magic siphoned and twisted and her heart crushed into brittle pieces. Punishment and torment to an agonizing death because she was daring a single moment of peace! A pain so stark she couldn’t hold herself up on feet anymore, to collapse down to knees.
Timing tended to be quite the marvelous thing. A predictable and unexpected thing. With the party going strong and unlikely to cease any time soon, it had been the choice of himself to slip away. Leaving darling wife to play watchful hawk upon children that were only shortly enamoured with the reveal of flickering coloured butterflies fluttering through the grand court. Much to many people’s surprise and wonder. The whole ambience had certainly been the unique affair. Not something anyone of them had seen before with silent awe.
The only one that didn’t seem to be too terribly surprised with the queen herself. Although mother was plenty busy playing host. Greeting over and over while being pulled into new conversations by repeat.
It had appeared to be the best moment to finally slide away himself. Intending to do as he previously intended with finding the turned demon just to repeat the action of checking on him. A minor thing but he’d hardly been so blind not to notice how such a simple behaviour had affected the other. Knowing probably better than most that just little actions that seemed to have no purpose could have the biggest effect. Not everything needed to be big and grand and a massive spectacle. Sometimes, the smallest things would have the largest impact.
What he didn’t expect was to see Calia having come out from one of the doors. Looking less put together than she had before when milling amongst the gathering of the estate. At first he could have assumed she was just escaping for a breath of air but the staggering away was enough to bring alert. Especially at her whole seemingly behaving like a cat that was choking! Running away to hide somewhere private to have its moment away from prying eyes!
He could only hope that the unease that built into his stomach was simply misplaced. Quickly taking tail after the woman that was pretty deft on her feet! Taking him added seconds to find her collapsed to knees, “Calia?” Aien asked softly with a look around to see if there were in fact anyone nearby. “Calia, are you alright?”
Running away somewhere to die in peace was exactly what Calia wanted. Why taint these halls with her cursed blood or give poor children little heart attacks from her twisted dead body! All dramatics of course, from pain and panic. Trying desperately to attempt to gain some sort of control over it through pure willful stubbornness. To power through the pain and somehow get herself back up to feet so she wouldn’t be a spectacle.
Damn that soft voice of Aien, he really did just have brilliant timing.
She tried to open her mouth to give some smartassed comment that she was busy perishing and he could go away. Something flippant to make light of it… it’s not like she knew what this it was beyond a few obvious hints. Almost wishing with some deranged hope that maybe for all she’d done now she was bursting into some demonic form herself, at least that meant she would still be alive! Instead of this horrifying feeling that she was being crushed to death from the inside out.
When flippant words couldn’t be drawn out, all she was left with was a jerky shaking of her head and a whimpered sound of pain. Gesturing with a shaking hand to her chest that she was having a damned heart attack… Somewhere in the world, anyway!
Wondering with that same pained panic if she should just let it go, and let it take her. Dying was starting to seem preferable!
Kneeling down to that of the foreign princess, he wasn’t sure exactly what was going on but it was clear it was agony. Only affirmed with the bare shake of her head and paired sound of strong discomfort, his mind went to a flickering wasteland of help. A healer seemed like the first thing but even they would need to know what was wrong!
By the way her hand was clutched to chest, that was likely the source. The what and why were still unknown. And asking was clearly not the way to go either seeing as she hadn’t verbalized anything outside showing she was hurting.
Bending down to her, “Let me help you to a—”
“It’s not going to help.” The demon’s voice cut through as if he merely materialized coming around the corner. Granted the huff in breath suggested more of a sprint than anything as easy as stepping through a door through space and time. How did he know that something was happening? Was this the contract between them. There were more questions than answers. “That ancient lintball yah call a Mage Advisor is waddlin’ his way along the old path. Yah might wanna help him, less he break a hip and ankle, Aien.”
Ears lifted, eyes glanced down the hallway. Highly debating what action to take. The clearest one was of course that he didn’t help Calia. Sighing a little but straightening up so momentarily he and Arc were passing by another. “Can you do something, Arch?”
“Nay,” Head shook. Clearly not about to elaborate either. Rather giving him a literal shooing motion as not to crowd around. A moment. A hesitation before Prince finally took the not so subtle clue to go find the old advisor before the goat fainted or something.
Eyes following till even the fancy cloak or whatever the hell it was that Aien was wearing disappeared around the corner. Barely even pausing a moment to ask permission as grasp moved down to pull Calia into arms. “Seems yer former beau has found out that he can play with yer heart.” Arc softly commented, “It’s guna be hard, but yah need to pull at the threads of magic. It will only work once but push a barrier through that long distance tether from yah to heart. It ought to give him a nice jolt and keep yah safe for a wee bit. Not long, but a bit.” Feet flattened as he made grasp move around her dress, “We’ll get outta sight. No need to have an audience for this.”
Who knew she’d ever be in a place to be glad to see a demon! Better than poor Aien, whose bear appearance masked the fact he was gentle of soul and he was doing well enough in thinking quickly without being in a panic himself, but even Calia knew there was no help for her.
“Hi,” was about about as much as she could squeak out in weak greeting, the moment she was pulled into arms. Calia would’ve glad said something stupid, like I’m fine, knowing it was obvious that it was opposite just so she could deflect from the fact she was terrified. Instead curling against him, trying to see past that blinding pain to look inwards for magic threads.
Easier in some ways now that she had physical contact with him and his magic wells, both mage and demon. Almost impossible when it felt as if her frozen heart was being cracked open with pick and axe. Almost giving up in the moment, for hard was such an understatement when vision was going white from pain and grasping onto any magic felt like trying to catch the wind in your hands.
“I-” a staggered breath. “wish you- the best.”
That was a frightening statement to give out of nowhere. Last words, just in case, Calia figured, finally grasping at least some means of magic when she squeezed her eyes shut. Making attempts to weave it well in something vengefully painful too, because fuck that sorcerer shithead, to push outwards through the connected tether between herself and stolen heart. It was so so far away though…! So much distance to cast any sort of magic across.
At least it had been Aien that found her. Gaia would only know if it had been some random guest that found the lady of the mountains hunched over in a state of pain that didn’t look like it made sense. It likely didn’t from an outside source but that didn’t make it any less real. Honestly, there was a bit of surprise that the long far away wannabe warlock just discovered he could hurt Calia with her own heart. Half expecting the all too full of himself shitelord to have done so much sooner. But if Derrick was any sort of soul that liked watching other’s suffer, he probably would have preferred the princess be in front of him.
To witness her wither and struggle in a near fruitless attempt to beat him over the head with whatever she got her hands on. Hell, even punching him out.
As the eldest prince went to go find Omal –truly less the old geezer stumbled and was found upside down in the morning in a bush- he didn’t much want to express how much or how little he knew about enchanted hearts. It wasn’t information necessary for the prince. “Yer bein’ dramatic.” Arc muttered lacking any sort of real cynicism about her choice of pained words. “Yah still have to give the chicken-hearted chuckle head a good beatin’. Can’t do that from the grave.” She might try but a black sorcerer wasn’t going to be easy to attack.
Giving her a task was for two reasons. To try and get her to focus on something else than the pain –it was pinging through the binding between them. Hardly strong but enough to alert attention which caused him to react. Startling Omal almost off his created stool. Being yelled at as he simply went trotting off with no explanation. Not that he owed one.
It shouldn’t be too surprising that where he would go was to the one place that had been actively avoided for eons. A space he only had started to pull apart in his days recent and a fine place to seek privacy. Not about to leave Calia to be a spectacle should someone stumble upon them. Shouldering door open and giving it a kick of heel to make it shut itself as no entry to be permitted, he took to standing there. Rather than unceremoniously dumping her to the ground as if he were some snotty meathead. He could be, truly could.
Considering his options only to plop rump to the edge of desk and kept the strength of connection between them as a physical encouragement. “Just remember, lass, he can’t do a damn thin’ truly to yah. He has yer magic but he can’t use if he kills yah. And yah owe him fine repayment for all that has come from his hand. He isn’t anythin’ without all that he took from yah. I think he needs a good reminder he’s a piece of shit that can’t do a damn thin’ by himself.” Arc smirked softly, putting chin on top of her crown.
“I’d- be a great ghost,” she choked out. Because damned right she’d be a ghoulish, frightening specter. Free of this stupid mortal body and it’s limitations of pain and flesh. Calia would rise up out of the grave like a cursed poltergeist and continue everything she started, even more terrifying than before!
Better not to die, though. Too many things existed in the world that she’d like to continue enjoying. Food, dancing… getting to physically make the man regret he’d ever met Calia at all because in this pained, awful moment, it was too easy to forget what torture actually looked like, so it was starting to seem like a grand idea again!
Calia didn’t know where she was being whisked off to, nor did she care, still struggling to push everything outwards so needles weren’t digging and twisting into her. Having at least enough in her to listen to the soft ton of his voice, finding some solace there.
“Comforting,” she hissed out, with humor. Good then that Derrick wouldn’t kill her, as her magic would then be gone out of his fingertips. …not so good that apparently he had the power to actually torment her in a fun new way whenever he damned well felt like it! Surely this was a new trick he’d learned for it to only have happened now. A new trick, or else he somehow knew that Calia was finding new magic to use as her own.
She never should’ve been so free and reckless with Arc’s magic.
The casting back of the awful pain and this torturing spell had finally pushed past all resistance, where suddenly it zipped and struck somewhere on the otherwise. Calia didn’t know how or what it looked like. A barrier, a torrent of fire, a storm. Damn it all, she didn’t care! Just glad that she could suddenly breath again, taking in that breath with a gasp and a shudder as all tension finally left her and she went as limp as an unraveled ball of yard.
“Thanks,” she said with that weary sigh. Finally tilting head back, though it was more of a limp flop. “…are you okay?”
“I’m sure yah would be. A right proper hellish apparition that brought terror and mischief in loads. But make that a future thin’, yah still got lots of that on this realm to do. Yer a fae after all, might as well lean into it.” It was a good thing Calia wasn’t the sort really to give up. Actually it was one of her telling traits. She didn’t give up, she got even. Creating plans and ideas that would give whomever wronged her a terrible chill up their spine. Truly, she would be a proper horrifying ghost, but she could be just as terrible as a mortal.
Reclusing to the study was the best place. There was enough stories and truths around the demon present that no one ought to be stupid enough to stray their way into here. Especially not with a large celebration going on. Where there was food and drink and enjoyment far better than creeping through some old dusty nonsensical private office to see what madness ran thick.
Mouth quirking at corners when he came to rest. Letting her just take whatever solace she could right now in a lack of audience, and the fact he was only trying to fuel information that she was due to give Derrick a strong kick to the pants as just a greeting. That hell and high water was coming for him. None of what he had done would have been possible by himself because the boy had been evidently powerless without stealing both heart and magic from the princess. The guy was no more than a toad pretending to be a prince. Or a farmhand pretending to be a warlock.
So he hummed as she hissed out her mirth.
Waiting.
Knowing that she would achieve this even if there was a struggle about it. He just hoped that whatever she managed to send through was enough to give Derrick a strong warning that she wouldn’t take his abuse lying down. Whatever he did, she would repay it tenfold. And if the man knew her, that ought to scare him.
When she finally seemed to be released from the pain –the sensation through the binding disappearing with a freedom of it never having existed at all- grasp adjusted so she didn’t go suddenly sliding through arms because she had become a limp noodle.
“Hmm, yah would have figured it out.” Arc offered freely before giving her a bit of a raised brow. “It wasn’t attackin’ me nor that strong through the contract. I’m fine, lass. Though I am sure yer a bit worn and need time to recuperate. Yer welcome to stay here till yah feel ready to go and mingle with the lively bunch.” Sentiments of truth given without concern or a hidden meaning. “Yah might want the chair though, yer dress is gettin’ slippery in hand.”
Calia almost blurted out that she’d like to stay where she was. An embarrassing sort of realization to have in the moment, to consider him as a safe space. Didn’t seem to matter than she herself was a terror to all, even without magic at her fingertips. An even more dangerous woman indeed when she could siphon both demon and mage magic to use at her will. The whole experience made her feel like she was as disposal and crushable as a small gnat. Yet somehow Archimedes had become a little bubble of safety. Not really understanding the whys, as it’s not like with the fae tree where she felt at home.
He’d seen the worst of her, she supposed. Which meant she didn’t have to be anything more than herself… even if that self was presently feeling pretty stupid about being a collapsing damsel.
“I meant, are you okay in general,” she clarified. Bracing her arms then on his shoulder so she could nudge him to let her loose. Sliding unstable legs to floor where she could at least stand on her own feet. “I hate to tell you, but I’ve actually missed having you buzzing around making smug comments about everything.”
She caught him offguard. Shown by how quick expression went from widening surprise and morphed into a sort of quietly isolated side glance to the nearest wall. Chewing on tongue with vain hope that it just might work out some cleverly defined answer that would mend everything. That all was fine. Nothing to worry about and she best not waste her concerns on the likes of a demon.
Using that chance to where she nudged him to rather move to walk around the desk and help her to singular offered seat. A bit dusty but still working to support someone’s rear.
Releasing once he was sure she was stable, feeling a suffocating burning in his throat when she effortlessly stated that his former existence as a irritating smug ass cockroach of a demon was preferred. Well he couldn’t say he disagreed. Being oblivious to it all had lent a sort of freedom that allowed him to be a blowhard. Ignorant and monstrous. Uncaring about what was said or how it would be received because all that mattered was his own wants. Feelings, thoughts, actions, they all benefitted him.
This clarity that came from the past was not exactly fun. However, it was hardly something he had the right to bitch about! After all, the evidence of what had been was all over the damn place! These were just the consequences of his actions. One couldn’t cry over spilt milk, it wasn’t going to change anything.
Shoulders gave that familiar easy nonchalant shrug. Stretching hands before cracking them. Filling lungs with a easy toothy grin. “Not okay, I’m grand, lass. No need to be frettin’ yer head over nothin’. Yah’ve got bigger fish to think about after all. The newest one bein’ how long till someone comes lookin’ for the royal’s guest. Elves might enjoy their soiree’s but they will notice yer absence sooner than later.”
Raising hands behind neck, “I’ve just been behavin’ as I said I would. I’ll be sure to double up my smug comments and the likes once we aren’t here any longer. A right proper pain in the ass soon.”
Well that reply was as full of bullshit as she’d ever seen. Coming to that soft understanding that perhaps Liriel had been right after all. This elf turned demon wasn’t so unaffected and made of nonchalant steel as he liked to portray himself. Going through those same motions she’d seen from him plenty of times with toothy grin and careless posturing.
Calia plopped into the chair with a dusty ploof, smoothing out blue silk skirts and generally feeling like someone had chewed up her insides. Taking a slow look around the room and wondering just what she might do next. She’d never actually been someone’s friend before, at least not one during such a difficult and troubling period in their life. In her own life. What was the use of having all these feelings of sympathy and empathy when you were so daft you didn’t know how to use them to help someone!
“Let them go looking, I’d rather stay here with you,” she did admit at the very least. “Why don’t you stop pretending you’re grand and fine, to tell me something real instead. There’s never been a moment yet where I haven’t listened to you, so let me listen now. I won’t have anything smart or helpful to say but at least I’ll understand.”
“What?” Arms fell to his sides with the whole statement that she not only would invite people to come looking for her. Pretty sure he had known or witnessed her thus far escaping whenever she could to exactly avoid that very thing. Not to mention effortlessly suggest that she’d want to stay here. Making a visual show of looking around the room then to her. As if she wasn’t paying attention that she was currently not in the nicest place in the entire palace.
Probably the spawning point for dust bunnies honestly. Liable to be a host of a room for mice, spiders and whatever else liked to sequester themselves into places that had gone unused.
It was a natural instinct to tell her that she was saying nonsense. However, he did know that Calia was blunt to a fault. Such a talent had been part of her problems. Saying what came out with such a honesty that a lot of people didn’t know what to make of it besides getting all up in arms. She didn’t lie. Mostly. She certainly did in aspects but not when it came to just cutting through the bullshit.
Shutting eyes. Rubbing the back of neck in a action that was just trying not to go immediately into trying to fluff up the whole characterization that was actively wanting not to say a thing.
Brows furrowed as she told him that there hadn’t been a point where she didn’t listen to him. That got a look. Needing not to be explained as he stepped a bit away to look at the wall behind the chair she sat in. At shelves that had been raided for their uses recently. By yours truly. “I appreciate it, lass. The difference is, this time to say somethin’ is of no use.” Arc motioned blankly around likely just trying to indicate everything not just one thing. “What I have goin’ on, has no validity. At least not logically.”
“I can’t express the sort of baseless sensations I’ve got happenin’. A person can’t be angry at thin’s when it’s their own damn fault. Or saddened. Or anxious, the whole myriad of bullshit soup. If there was a just reason, then absolutely. In this case, it’s not.” That heat pressured upon throat needing a hard clear and deft swallowed. Tensing brow all over again, “I have to be fine and grand. The rest are thin’s that are actions fit for a child that doesn’t know better.”
He offered the same smile as before though the effort of making it seem seamless truly faltered.
“I have to keep pretendin’ this time.” Shaking head with a humorlous laugh, “What’s done is done. Actions have repercussions and one has to be able to deal with them. Regardless if they want too or not.”
As she stated, Calia listened, makin herself as comfortable as she could in that chair when she was dressed in such a fine fabric that she looked like a frozen glacier gilded with sparkling snow. A stark contrast to this abandoned old study, covered in layers of dust that’d only been disturbed by himself recently. Watching him as he moved about, attempting to stamp and stomp everything he was feeling away without actually physically doing so.
Bring her to that soft frown. It was strange watching someone else do it. Going through those motions of trying not to feel what they were feeling.
“Are you going to stomp it all down into a chest coffin? That didn’t work so well for me,” she admitted easily with a shrug of shoulders.
“Why can’t you be angry and sad? Who said you couldn’t be, even at your own self and your own faults?” Calia asked with all due sincerity, hell, wondering herself too who made those rules! “Of course you can’t change what happened or your role in it. But you can still feel how you want to feel, pretending you don’t is… suffocating.”
That was her own experience coming through and when she realized it, there was a heavy sigh along with her twisting to drape her arms over the back of the chair. Where she could see him while still resting her chin on her arms.
“Prince Carlisle was an asshole. He made the choice to abandon you during a time of crisis, when you already had the weight of so many on your shoulders. So you broke and you did something shitty. It’s your mistake to own, but it doesn’t mean you can’t still be pissed about it all. Be sad that it happened. Have regrets and want to make reparations.”
She reached out one of those arms to poke him gently when he paced past her.
“So no more pretending. At least not with me. Let us deal with it together. We can’t fix it, but we can set things on the right course again.”
“Into a what?” What the hell was a chest coffin though he suspected it was some sort of reference in Calia speak to burying your feeling’s inside yourself. Maybe that was the intention though he wasn’t doing a very good job at it. Still feeling them but he could control how much of that leaked out. To avoid it spilling out onto someone else’s shoulders or exploding at them. Hells below, such things he didn’t need to do. It was already a dangerous thing when people did it normally cause becoming erratic could be so dangerous, but when one had untold power at their fingertips and went down that route, it was liable to be city leveling.
It was not the time to point out that Calia was doing things that she herself probably hadn’t thought she didn’t need. Taking in her advice even as while he walked along this way and that. Not sure if it was appropriate that he actually laughed at her calling Carlisle an asshole.
He felt that.
And, also didn’t.
The whole poking at him did at least get him to turn towards her. Taking it all in. Letting it sit inside his head with all the grains of grace and wisdom and bluntness that only could come from this renegade princess full of faeish mischief and mountain fire. A she devil without the devil part. “Honestly lass, it feels so inconsequential to have all these emotions.” Once more brows knitted and there came a scribbled smirk on his face. Not quite a smile, not quite a frown. Tensing hands till the tips of claws were pressing into palms but no further. “These people… they were family. So… so important. They… still are. And that’s a part that’s hard to get past. Because while it has been years since it has all happened, it’s new to me. Fresh. Raw. Wide open and they’ve had the time to heal. As well as they can.” He kept his voice generally even though it was taking some effort.
“I can’t fault them for making assumptions. Building opinions. They’ve had nothing but time and limited understandin’ to know the whats and whys and everything in-between. But yer right. I am angry. I’m sad. Frustrated and,” Arc let out a wet laugh, glancing upwards at the ceiling. “And people really ought to give me some credit cause it’s not like I’m not powerful. Dangerously so.”
Feet stepped around that to the front of the desk. Looking towards the closed door. “I gave up everythin’. Hopin’, tryin’, pleadin’ that what I did, mattered. Fixed somethin’. Just… just when yer so desperate and nothin’ is workin’… other’s take advantage. I’d give up anythin’ to save them. And I did. I just didn’t know that what it was guna cost was guna be their own lives.” The demon growled then, a deep unnatural sound. Hackles prickling like a dog tied to the fence. “The blackened plague was neither diseases nor virus. It was magic. And it was spreadin’ with no reason. Carlisle chose his death like a coward. But I don’t know if at the time, I’d done any differently. It was still a bullshit effort. Bloody bastard.”
Eyes fell away from the door. Over the floor to finally her once more. “I’m so fuckin’ pissed that not only did I try the worse option out of sheer desperation, that the way to cull the plague by the hands of the demons was to ensure that everyone was dead. It can’t spread if the people are dead. It was rampant in Eleanor’s ducal. My vara… he was stretched thin and at his own limits. Everyone was. And it cost them my mistake. It’s mine and I know it. And I know why it was done. I was gettin’ too close to figurin’ out how to kill elder demons. That sword… can.”
Rolling his shoulders, Arc sighed heavily. Knees felt weak and he wasn’t sure if he just wanted to scream, beat the shit out of something or just mindlessly drink and fuck to feel something else. None of them were good.
“Now… tonight. Mhmm… I’m in this same damn place. The pariah. The demon. The one who bet it all and lost so much more. Inside the same place that those people that I loved and cared and gave and would give the shirt off my back for, don’t give a collective shit about. And how the fuck can I be this upset that the one person that has moved on, is out there. Celebratin’ her first wee one. I shouldn’t be angry at them for movin’ on, but god damn it… I haven’t. I didn’t. I’m still eons ago havin’ to realize that my former life is gone! The blasted woman that was easily the only one I loved earnestly is…” Arc cursed in elven pressing hands to the back of his neck again to pace a little.
“It’s too much….”
“I do miss those first few moments when I woke up and couldn’t feel anything,” she admitted first, almost wistfully. “Or at least I thought I wasn’t feeling. It just sort of stays in there and then choses the worst possible moment to come flooding out.”
He’d seen it more than once, she didn’t need to give him examples. Only sifting enough in her seat to reach out and bapbap at his hand when he was clenching fists too tight. Liable to start digging claws into flesh just because sometimes pain was easier to manage than a torrent of complicated emotions. Finding herself smiling softly at the boast of being powerful – that he was. None of them did give any credit to the fact he was in fact, two fold powerful. Strong as a demon and even stronger as a mage. No one had asked her yet if she needed to reign him in, or if he’d rebelled against her to go causing mayhem. He hadn’t. Not a single time. Likely assuming they were having some private battle of wills with each other.
Her as a feral mountain princess and he as a demon. Neither one of them was getting any credit for keeping themselves in check. The city could be in ruins within minutes. And she kept getting in trouble for warning them of that!
“It is too much,” Calia agreed without hesitation. Eyes following him as he paced again. “I don’t think they remember what it’s like having everything fresh in your mind. They’ve already had their time to mourn the past, so even hearing the truth now only sets it all to rest for them. They don’t remember the pain and fear from the plague. The sharp pains of losing everyone you love to an unfair and violent deaths.”
“I don’t think they mean to seem so callous… that you should be quiet and unseen, or even have your shit together. They’ve just moved on to a new life and you don’t quite fit in it anymore. …and it sucks. Sucks in every way something can suck.”
Certainly not any sort of wisdom to simply agree that everything sucked and was awful. Calia could not alter reality and change the fact that everything he once knew was not only different now, but moved on without him. She did reach out again to snag a finger into whatever loose fabric she could grasp ahold of and give a gentle tug.
“…so what would you like to happen now?” she question softly. “It doesn’t have to be logical or realistic. Or even good. Whatever nonsense that first comes to mind, hopeful or ugly. Go make a dramatic confession to Liriel and promptly get thrown out by her husband? Go scare people out of one of the towers so we can burn it down? We can walk out in the forest and make a private garden. Start a monsoon. Kill somebody.”
“It’s a new life for you now, we ought to celebrate it with a bang.”
It didn’t feel any better to voice his thoughts. His moods. All of it and none of it. But it was out there. Between him, her and the walls. Wishing that it was so easy to have just spluttered it out and suddenly all would be right as rain. He’d not give a single additional fuck. Able to bounce back to that smug, not a care given, ignorant twat that didn’t have to think about anyone else but himself. And well, Calia. As he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready to voice that she had somehow managed to earn his respect and loyalty.
A feat that didn’t come easily.
Grunting as she echoed that it was too much. Likely to surprise everyone that she had some sagely thought that pointed out in better articulation that those that he had all these fresh memories with, didn’t remember that same sensation. When things were so calamitous, open like a bloody nerve and any little puff of air against it, hurt.
Softly chuckling at her when she encompassed it all into just it everything sucking, sucked. Leaning himself against the desk once more. “It’s right fuckin’ stupid that a part of me still highly elven, still part of that past, hoped… yearend that there would be somethin’ better at the end of this. That the last people that had been family might welcome me back. I know it’s a silly thin’, but mhmmm, sixty years together is hard to just brush away. Losin’ my vara, siblin’s. The chickadee and hell even Eleanor… it’s just a lot to fuckin’ have to recognize.”
Arc sighed. Raising sights to her when she was pulling on the hem of shirt. To hear what was asked. A questions and suggestions that did in fact make him laugh honestly. “I might be too unhappy to wish Liriel well, but I ain’t guna go and start shit either. Plus, I don’t think it’d win me any points if I made her husband dangle from the Fae Tree by his fancy pants.” Crossing arm and balancing the over it so he could rub eyes, Arc shook his head at her theatrics. “Yer offer’s are quite on either scale of extreme. I appreciate it but let’s try not to give reasons why we ought to be chased out.”
“If it weren’t important for yah to build reliable allies, I’d do any one of them in a heartbeat.”
Giving a crooked smirk, “Celebrations with me were usually drinkin’ and fuckin’. Probably not the most productive behaviours.” He looked at her again, over her gown. “Yer dressed up awfully nice to be wallowin’ or celebratin’ nonsense with a demon by the way.” Violets were unusually soft however, “Is yer chest still achin’?”
“It sure as hell isn’t going to feel better after a few short days,” she told him easily. “It’s not going to feel much better in a few weeks either if I am any example.” After all, here she was, only a few weeks out of having her entire life stolen away from her. In some respects, things had settled down within her where now her first instinct was to just destroy everything around her. And in others… well, all it seemed to take was one bad day and she was breaking down again. Taking a few steps forward and falling a couple back. Making progress, surely, as here they were actually talking to each other and that had to count for something.
Calia was quick to give an unapologetic grin at the claim her suggestions were of two extremes. Deliberate too, as was the world not trying to box them in to one side or another? To be the most pious of perfect good, or to be the villains of everyone’s worst nightmares? He was as free as she was to choose whatever path he wanted… ignoring the binding. Or maybe even with it. A dark part of Calia still sometimes beckoned for those destructive actions, just looking for the excuse and the permission to do so.
Appreciating, though, that he didn’t want to go the route of scorched earth. There were so much more beautiful things they could do.
To his question of her chest, came a wrinkle of her nose and a nod of her head. Still all manner of sore, but at least she wasn’t writhing in pain and wishing herself dead just to escape it. Hopefully that asshole on the other end of the tether got himself a nasty little surprise.
In the meantime she did draw herself up to her feet, testing her weight a little before reaching out for his hands.
“I don’t belong in that world of theirs. Not a single one of those cowards was brave enough to ask me to dance, and I love dancing. You’re gonna have to be my partner in the here and now, so I can do this silly dress justice. We’ll celebrate not raining down on their parade, because we are very well behaved, very refined. Not at all menaces to society. Tonight.”
Grunting in her sagely advice that things weren’t going to feel much better after a few days let alone weeks, he did appreciate and know the truth of that. If he did, it might just suggest he was more demon than even he would have originally considered himself to be. To be uncaring and tactless about what was weighing on him like a god damn mountain.
Of course Calia was just proving herself to be the mistress of all extremes. Offering both building a garden or just plain out murdering someone. It was both concerning and oh so relieving. That it was fine to be a bit darker than most wouldn’t care for. The difference was neither of them were acting upon it. Yelling out death to all, and using their combined magic supply to bring ruin and destruction. A very close, very real thing that could happen. Neither one of them were particularly lacking in the department. And really, that ought to be really considered.
Less he start to fall victim into bad ideas.
Asking instead if her chest was still sore. One she expressed was and he wished there was a way to soothe it. Alas there was nothing that he knew currently but watching he stand up carefully, she beckoned for his hands. An action that was surprisingly responded too with no resistance.
Listening as she stated that no one out there had been brave enough to come to ask her for a dance at all. And she apparently loved to do so. Something that made him thoughtful before offering her potentially a crafted rare grin designed simply for herself. “Well that just doesn’t do,” Arc scooted his ass off the desk keeping hold of hands at least. “Yah likely intimidate them, lass. Their loss. If they don’t have the nerves to approach a beautiful woman in such an attire that they ought to be crawling on their hands and knees, then they aren’t worth a thought.” The man squeezed her fingers so he could step away. Motioning for a moment. “Confidence looks good on most people, but on yah, lass. It’s a masterpiece.”
Stepping towards the door to open it, peeking out this way and that. Checking for anyone lurking perhaps before motioning for her to take hand once more and follow.
Noticeably making those demonic features fade but keeping the rest. The elven portions, “I warn yah,” Arc grinned gingerly. “I haven’t danced for a long time. But it’s about time we remind these people just who you are. Show them why yah burn, not merely shine. Bright, untamed and unforgettable. So let’s make sure they see yah dancin’ with the demon at yer beck and call.”
Maybe Calia did in fact have the potential to be a useful and supportive friend, find that crafted grin of his so much more genuine and actually warm compared to how he’d been in the past few days. Not having to pretend he was fine, because they both knew he wasn’t, but at least having a chance to acknowledge it with someone that wasn’t going to judge him for it. Someone that actually understood that violent up and down.
Of course now he was being perfectly ridiculous and dramatic, in that awful charming way, prompting her to laugh out right with a toss of her head.
“Careful, too much of words like that and I am going to start thinking I’m special. Parading around demanding men to be crawling at my feet.” What a mess that would be. A royal circus not even the likes of Nysia would want. Waiting curiously to see exactly what he was up to, as Calia herself had meant for them to just enjoy a simple dance right then and there. No need to do anything fancy or create a whole scene.
Still, she did take his hand anyway. Following out in the hall and raising eyebrows at such a stunning statement. Hating to admit that it amused the hell out of her, but then she’d always been on the side of drama herself, hadn’t she. He had a bright, untamed burn to himself too when he was up to maximum mischief, full of ideas and devilishly lively.
They were about to start some trouble then. …good! Balls were ever so boring without a little trouble!
“I’ll pretend not to notice when you step on my feet, then,” she laughed again with a shake of her head.
“I think that’s the problem, yah not thinkin’ yer special.” Arc met her tossing laugh with a unique honesty. “Think about it.” Leaving her to do just that. There was absolutely nothing regular about her. She was everything extraordinary which was why people tended to feel so awkward or attempt to diminish her. Because if she was more, then they had to acknowledge that they were less. It was entirely a them thing. “Yer to be a queen eventually, petal. It’s their choice to why they be crawlin’ or not. For yer attention or for yer sword.” He was hardly not to mince words.
Eventually when it came time to retake Caeldalmor, she was going to find out quickly who were allies and who were disguised as them.
Right now however, she had given him a rare gift that he was going to do the same. Perhaps not a rare gift but obliging her the chance to be treated like an everyday beautiful noble lady that had people watching her. Some shy, some obtuse but all eyes upon her. Plus, Calia was right. This was a new life for him.
These people in which he had made the ultimate sacrifice and was thrice burned for it, could find the fattest part of his ass and kiss it! They could be whatever emotion they wanted to be about his existence but that didn’t mean he had to give them power about it. He did what he thought was right at the time. Knowing now it wasn’t but he had to live with it. They could build a bridge and get over it.
Pulling her hand closer so she wasn’t just trailing behind him leading, but rather up to wrap her arm around his own, Arc tipped his head to her. “Much obliged, Lia. But we’ll do best to avoid that too.” He wasn’t about to make her toes ache truthfully. Rather leading them around to where even the guards stationed were suddenly taking interest out of their boredom. A imaginary tip of hat and Arc turned to her a moment. “It’s going to be almost unfair to the rest of the room. How are any of them guna focus when yah are here?” Brows lifted with the complimentary phrase before he cleared his throat. Straightening back and offering her probably one of his more known puckish looks. “A bit of theatrics never hurt.” Was his final words
The grand court of the palace glittered under the glow of enchanted chandeliers, their crystalline light casting shifting patterns across the floor. Nobles whispered behind silk fans, their curiosity piqued as the murmurs of an uninvited presence spread through the crowd like wildfire.
Then, the temperature in the room changed.
A ripple of violet energy crackled through the air, causing candle flames to flicker and waver. A gust of unnatural wind sent the decorations overhead swaying as if bowing in reverence. And then—the doors burst open. Stepping through the threshold as them. Enchanting magic to cling to the hem of her skirts like an aura of stardust, the every air bending in deference to her power.
A hush fell over the court.
Arc did not flinch. Nor did he cower. Making sure Calia walked as if she owned the room, as she had brought a demon to the heart of the kingdom not as a prisoner, but as a partner.
Gasps rippled through the nobles as the demon extended his hand, letting the glamour already fade away for performance. Clawed fingers brushing against hers with a touch that should have been impossible—gentle, reverent. The orchestra, uncertain, hesitated. Then, as if compelled by a magic beyond their understanding, they began to play.
A princess wrapped in celestial grace. A demon wreathed in darkness. And in that moment, under the watchful eyes of a stunned court, they became something more than legend—they became myth. Bowing to Calia with a gentlemanly press of lips over knuckles, “May I have this dance, Princess Calia?”
Calia was fairly certain there was a huge difference between someone being special and someone being just plain weird, and it didn’t require her to think on it at all. Giving him a sort of dubious smile, as there really was no reason to argue with him when he seemed to be full of fire and inspiration. Accepting this means of being pulled into a new position from tugged along dame, to one being properly escorted. Catching on pretty quick when they rounded the hall to see newly curious guards that his intent was to make a spectacle of themselves.
He really did need to stop saying such spectacular things about her, or else she was going to start believing him.
That dazzling puckish grin of his seemed to herald in a little zing of unexpected magic, and for a short moment Calia was not so certain this was going to be a good idea! Everything awful thing that could possibly happen running through her mind in quick succession. Having the world’s attention on her was not something she actually wanted. It’d never been about being noticed, all Calia wanted was to be able to exist in her own skin. Authentically be who she was without being afraid.
What was she even afraid of right now, though? There were no secrets to keep, there were no people to lose. Damn, Calia didn’t even fear violence for she was without question the most dangerous person there.
Any trepidation she had melted away the moment they stepped through the threshold, no need to feign confidence, or force herself to slide into some role of expectations. Calia existed, a chaotic mix mash of many things, and she wasn’t going to be sorry about it anymore.
And Archimedes was being so damn theatrical about it all that she couldn’t help but rise to the occasion. Blossoming into a bright, faeish smile of her own.
“I do very much love to dance,” she responded, purely for the benefit of their stunned audience. Keeping hand to weave themselves through a crowd of people that were nearly tripping over their own skirts and boots to stay out of their way.
Calia managed to catch sight of Nysia in the crowd, the elven princess’ jaw dropping in the most excited and thrilled expression she’d ever seen. Giving Nysia a cheeky sort of smug wink, as there was no hiding the fact that this was the sort of thing the girl thrived on.
What she hadn’t seen was Crowned Princess Liriel’s surprise, though as always she had that elegant control over her expressions. Leaning over to whisper something to her husband, and by the quirk of her brows and small upturn at the corner of her mouth, that whisper was likely along the lines of That’s the ex. only in much more eloquent words. For Rhiann himself seemed completely flabbergasted.
All it took was her agreement that she did very much love to dance, and his gaze to glint and shine with all the impish thrill that came from both sides of what he had become. These people had known him. Known. The word having quite a few different ways of being present. In the past, as the eventual mage advisor, he’d never put such magical airs on. Now? Fuck that. He was not bound by their laws or expectations any longer. And she was a faeish being that deserved to be properly given the chance to look both regale and part of the mystery.
With the agreement and hands met, the air crackled. Wisps of violet and gold curled around their entwined fingers, a dance of power as much as of grace. Rising up to step in close to take the lead. With a single step, they moved as one.
To sweep across the queen’s court, a show of flawless harmony of suggested opposing forces. A princess glided with an ethereal lightness. To be like moonlight on water, while his own were to be the controlled storm in echo. The two of them ready to make a tempest barely contained. Arcane sigils flickered beneath their feet, illuminating their path with symbols of unity and discord.
As the music swelled, so too did the magic. The space around them warped, shifting through realms—brief glimpses of starlit forests, infernal spires, and forgotten ruins appearing with each turn. The court could only watch in rapture, held spellbound by the collision of their essences.
The final note rang out, and they stilled, the world holding its breath. Their hands parted, the last tendrils of magic dissipating into the air like dying embers.
The demon’s voice, low and edged with reverence, broke the silence. Putting effort into articulating words just for the show they had cultivated. “You dance as if the stars themselves bow to your fire, as if the wind dares not touch you without your blessing. A queen of motion, a tempest in silk. To watch you is to stand at the edge of a storm—powerful, exhilarating, and utterly inescapable.”
Bending to once more replicate the chaste kiss to back of hand. Paying attention to their audience of course but also not lending them sight a chance to see him do so.
Archimedes was having a grand bit of fun now and Calia was happily along for the ride. Thrilled in her own way to see how he wove magic in ways that weren’t bound by stupid rules and obligations. Appreciating more than he could ever really understand, as she’d been frugal and starved for the one thing that was such an important part of her.
There was no need to add on glamours for smooth motions and dramatic flare, for Calia had not lied even an inkling about loving to dance. Music and dance was nothing more than magic in itself, and it was so easy to match, mirror and mimic his steps. To even embellish further with her own proud flair. Calia could’ve been the perfect picture of true mysterious elegance if she’d tried, to pretend that she was of the level of Liriel or Queen Ashera in that controlled, poised way. But no, her natural self always had that little bit of spiteful edge to it. Flickering moments of sass and wicked delighted grinning, showing she knew exactly what they were doing and she did not care.
Only to come to a close far too soon for her liking, with the demon deciding he was going to pin this dance with the most ridiculous of statements on top of it. For whose benefit was it really, other than to scandalize the entire court. Calia could have played into it, been the beautiful, ice cold queen, looking down her nose at this captured demon and accepted these compliments as if it was expected. That was likely what she should have done. But she didn’t. Deciding to claim this moment for herself, to be as she wished.
So she laughed! Bright, loud, musical in itself with unbridled delight at the pure nonsense they’d created and just how silly her sounded spewing out absolute bullshit. Laughed and smile and took his arm before he tried to get away with any more hand kissing.
“To think, it took sending a master of arcane to the hells for over a hundred years to craft someone actually bold enough to meet and match the likes of me and all that I am. I would not be here otherwise, so that, petal, is quite the feat all in it’s own.”
Murmurs fluttered through the onlookers. Buzzing like bees in a hive. Unsure of who was potentially more scandalous than the other. Was it the princess that turned into a demon wrangler. Or the former mage advisor turned into said demon. Both? Neither. Who was to say, only that he offered her a slow dazzling grin. Pleased that Calia could at least find the drama in it all and play it the way she wanted. Making those behind hands and silk fans question just about everything.
Rising up to offer arm that was taken by that of princess. The sound of music started to play once more. A unspoken instruction that this was a party. Regardless of the unexpected guests. Tilting focus around to consider who was going to just go pussyfooting off their merry little way. A few. As if being too close was likely have them erupt into hives or something. Leaning to whisper against the shell of ear, “And how does yer fae tree find the atmosphere now?” Surely able to guess the living being amongst them all was having her own grand time.
At least he was liable to offer more of a spectacle, if it weren’t for the telling parting of people that were moving aside for lavish queen. A gown appearing to be woven from strands of pure sunlight. The bodice, adorned with intricate golden filigree, with delicate sheer sleeves shimmering in the light of the room. The whole ensemble looking as though it was draped in celestial waves, each fold dusted with stardust that tinkled with every practiced steady movement.
Lips painted soft and eyes coloured in muted tones as to enhance the natural grace of herself rather than to hide it away. That mouth was lightly pulled into a controlled small smile. Her eyes looking between them each. Before stepping close to lay hand to either of them. Squeezing arms kindly. Unspoken words passing between him and her. A silent request that she wished to speak. He knew the way she worked, recalled it. All too vividly now, but turned her head to look to Calia. “Come, sprout. Come, pau daer. It’s time you both pay your respects to the newest prince. As our guests. The night will carry on in celebration and more dancing is soon to follow.”
Arc shrugged though he wasn’t about to comment on the fact she still referred to him as she once had. Leaning closer to chuckle to Calia, “A younger version of myself and Atticus alone would have fainted to see someone finally pull this imp to the floor. All those lessons finally have come to pay off, Arc.”
“Well, I needed a bold personality to match my own.” He stated with a pointed look to Calia. “It’s only taken as she said, a hundred years.”
Ashera chuckled, “Bold and stunning. Yes, quite the match.” The queen gave them a light pull, “Come. Pay your respects. Then you may be as free as the night is long. These parties do get a bit droll. I am sure Nysia is itching to remark on it all.”
“Having the time of her life,” confessed Calia with another laugh. “The only thing to make her happier would be setting loose a bunch of wily foxes just for the thrill of it, but I am not out to be a menace tonight. We are, after all, well behaved and refined.”
Calia herself was perfectly pleased, riding that wave of contentment and squeezing it for all it was worth. Content to just breath and be as she was, without glancing over her shoulder and getting itchy simply because there was a room full of whispering, gossiping people with all manner of judgements to be had. None of it really mattered now, as they could not touch her. At least for tonight everything that plagued and troubled her might as well have been miles and miles away.
Even so, one couldn’t completely quell the little jolt of concern when the Elven Queen made her sparkling golden appearance. Watching the woman’s face carefully for any hints that there was about to be some form on unwanted consequences for stealing the show and making a spectacle of themselves in her court.
She seemed to be amused, having to been able to witness Archimedes dance at all. Causing Calia to give him that curious raise of her brows towards him, only just as give to give him that dubious, disbelieving smile when he declared it was her doing. The man was a menace in his own right, she didn’t believe it for a second.
With no reason to refuse this beckoning, Calia remained the beaming damsel on his arm. She’d already given her own well wishes to the little newborn prince, but of course it was typical royal politesse that Archimedes himself had to do so now that he’d made a delightful show for the entire court. One couldn’t just slip away into the shadows after such a thing. It was important too that she be his supportive escort, as Calia was fairly certain this would be the first time Arc would meet the little prince and Liriel’s husband. To face the fact someone he deeply loved had indeed moved on into a new life of her own.
Unsure of what they were going see from he Crowned Princess after such a display, Calia was both curious and surprised to find Liriel in good humor. In fact, her features were not as carefully schooled and controlled as they usually were with all of that trained royal poise, to openly display her own mirth and joy about this event. Without any signs or hints that she was upset about her wee ones special day being invaded.
“My love, allow me to introduce you to Princess Calia’s new advisor, Archimedes,” stated the woman. No mention of past things, Calia had a feeling she’d already whispered those to the man. Interesting, though, that she chose to title him as her advisor, instead of demon pet or something else that Calia would’ve snapped at for being rude. “Archimedes, this is Prince Consort Rhiann, my life and my soul. And this wee little bundle is my sweet treasured Malik.”
Whatever the Prince Consort knew about the demon at her side, he did not seem to mind such history. Being open wide in a jovial smile himself, a man of endless good moods to the point Calia wondered if there was a dark bone in his entire body. He was quick to reach out and shake the demon’s hands with no fear, just as he had with Calia.
“Truly incredible!” he declared with sincerity. “One never gets to see magic in it’s purest forms, what a blessing that the young princess has a skilled master to support her endeavors. I cannot tell you how often I’ve seen fresh faced mages send frogs and chipmunks blasted into the atmosphere from an over abundance of enthusiasm–“
“Rhiann!” exclaimed Liriel, although she didn’t seem too surprise by the statement when she laughed.
“It’s all true, love. It is!”
It had been showy. On purpose. The whole idea –strangely- hearing that Calia had liked to dance and no one was bold enough to approach her really did sit on his head as a rude action. Just because she was a hurricane wrapped up in human skin, people were treating her as if she were just one tap away from breaking. It was pathetic and if neither of them were to be this expected conformity, then so be it. He already knew how much she enjoyed the means of using magic freely and it did pull a sense of relief out of him.
Less construction. Less purpose, all dramatic flare and overabundance of spectacle. Magic didn’t have to be about fighting. It could be entirely artistic and well, she’d successfully gotten him to have a respect to her. Enough that he was willing and wanting to amend slights in his own way.
Only added mirth being how the fae tree herself was having quite the thrill this night. A fae she was, for the mention of foxes, Arc could only picture Calia summoning those pups of jackals to complete the running of chaos.
Maybe he could have offered but the approach of Ashera had successfully stopped that. Instead the woman that were part of his memories, was still the epitome of grace. Poise. The means of what it was to be an elven queen for so many years and to have absolutely bewitched everyone to think the very same. Even though he and her children could easily tell the truth. That she was by no means always this refined.
It had always been King Wyn that was more of the controlled ruler. His wife was the one that had brought them to the creek once and jumped in first! Playing and splashing them to encourage them to play, never mind getting so soaked in their Sunday finest. Giggling and spreading her feral nature. Nysia got it from somewhere after all! She hadn’t been born a noble lady after all. And he was sure Calia would like to know that the woman that was in spun gold leading them to the dias where the royal family had collected, was a swordswoman first. It was how her and Eleanor had met after all.
Less he fall too deep into that pitfall of recollections, his gaze was shortly lowering to the crowned princess. The pull, the pang, oh the ache was so present. A burn not too far behind to know that it was all true. She had left him broken hearted. And it wasn’t in some squabbly teen declaration. It was from time.
One in a sense of manifestation when she spoke and introduced him as both an advisor and by the full name. It still got him to react the same way as it did as a youth. A slight tilt to express he didn’t much care for the formality of calling him by his full name in a professional manner. But rather, his gaze shifted to look at this man that had been selected and honoured to be called her life and her soul. With the wee tot that honestly, he felt slightly betrayed by. A silent this was supposed to be ours, rattling inside. Emotions were a tricky thing. “Aye what a lovely little collection.”
But he was hardly about to let that show. Pulling on the slow crawling grin – unhurried, deliberate and effortlessly captivating. Starting with a subtle shift of the corner of lips, as if he was savouring some private amusement. A grin of both confidence and mischief. The sort of one he had often. Never rushed –just enough to make hearts stutter and time slow for a breathless moment. Receiving the man’s hands to be shaken as this over excited golden pup of a man was shortly prattling on about magic. “Oh yah’ve not seen the real master at work. The Princess is truly the master of the magical front,” Arc complimented Calia as he crossed arms over brawn.
Where he was intending to maintain the sort of aloof exterior. Shortly ruined at the whole reveal of young mages catapulting innocent woodland creatures into orbit!
Tilting a look to Calia that loudly read new idea? Not so much woodland critters but annoying people? Sounded like fun.
Ashera had already migrated off to somewhere else. The life of a queen and he noticed that Aien had managed to bring Omal back. Only to be assaulted by little love and lad that a pink hair mother looked perfectly displeased to have happening at all.
The one noticeably missing was Renus. Unclear if he was working or not but it didn’t seem that important either. Instead Arc leveled his gaze back to the current grouping. “We surely mustn’t be lingerin’ about too long. Yah’ve a slew of over eager ass kissers to wade through, Princess. All the sort of bullshit nonsense that makes it quite curious how the nobles have so much time to try and win favours.” Brows lifted to Calia, “And the lass here did manage to make the wee lad’s celebration all the more interestin’ by merely being a radiant star.”
Aka he wasn’t that interested in sticking formalities out. Actually all of it could fly a kite cause it was so boring. Things he did not miss. But, he offered Liriel a open look then. Uncaring if her little tart of a husband seen or not, “Congratulations, acushla.” Soft, almost pained, “To it all.”
This was almost painful to watch, seeing Arc put on that practiced smile and behavior as if this was all nothing and not a big deal. Calia could see the truth of Liriel’s words in full example, that the man indeed had a sensitive soul and it was very likely his heart was breaking to see the life here that he could have had. To be husband and father to a little fresh baby. Had he not done what he done, it could have even been Archimedes as future king of the Edelguard.
Something about that did not quite ring as proper for him, though. Hard to imagine, not because she didn’t think he could take on the role but in that… well. It didn’t feel right. This place in all of it’s grandness and glory felt too small for the likes of Archimedes.
Quick to share the glance with him, seeming to be right there on the same page of plotting to launch annoying people into the sky. Having to bite back that wicked smile before someone started reading her mind. Finding soon enough that all of these compliments he’d been launching in her direction was truly embarrassing. Enough to send that awkward flush to her face and a want to tell him to shush. Of course she was amazing, she did not need to hear it spoken out loud in front of everybody!
Princess Liriel herself was all knowing softness and smiles. Glancing between the two of them like a proud mother that’d orchestrated something fine indeed. Going all the softer to lift up hand to brush simple thumb to that of the demon’s chin with an affectionate movement. A surprise to Calia that her husband did not seem to take any offense or stare of envy in such motions. Only shifting himself to take the wee babe into his own arms.
“We find our destiny in those wrong turns we make,” a mysterious statement from a woman who was possibly the most beautiful thing in the room. Beckoning him to bend down so that she might bestow the man a simple kiss to the cheek. “Try not to be too stubborn.”
That short phrase of advice seemed to be aimed at the both of them, although Princess Liriel did linger her stare on Calia a little longer than the man that had been her former love.
“…so I shouldn’t take a cue from Rhiann and launch Arc into the stratosphere the first time I get mad…” she mused out loud, causing the Prince in question to explode into a boisterous laugh.
Leaving her free to lean close to the demon and whisper herself, “Let us steal a bottle and go up there.” At first the point might’ve looked like she meant climbing the fae tree – for which she DID want to do, but not when there were scores of people around – but meaning up to the very roof of the palace where the glass dome looked down at all below.
It was going to be the best thing to no longer be in this place. This palace. To see what could have been playing out with his wanted role, played by another. Even if he wasn’t acting outwardly as much as he wanted too just toss Rhiann into the crowd with no grace and a loud declaration to piss right off! Settling instead for some decorum that was settling to congratulate the new mother. The eventual queen and resisting that want to just lean into that gentle touch. Swallowing maybe a bit rougher than intended.
Unable to make a witty remark that he was probably well at destiny’s door for the amount of wrong turns he had taken. About to barge in and declare it was drink o’clock! Instead bending to her request and laughing no sooner. “Lass, yah’ve met me. There’s not a good stubborn bone in my body.” As much as he wanted to replicate the action she gave him to cheek, he didn’t. She didn’t need to be somehow claimed as demon marked or what not. “Yah’ll make a beautiful just queen, Liriel.”
Of course Calia was the funny one in which she suggested she was going to potentially launch him into the sky if he upset her again. Getting the prince to laugh heartedly. Offering his best try it look that melted so easily away. She probably would try it and how the hell would he explain that she did so with his own magic!
As she whispered and mentioned stealing a bottle, following where she was pointing –pretty much expecting the means of the fae tree to add some further nonsense to their dramatic evening- Arc hummed. “As long as it’s not that that floor cleaner yah picked last time.” Whispering back before setting to give the next reigning couple a courtly bow.
Back stepping. Then side stepping to hop down the dias, offering Calia a hand to do the same. That they would take their proper leave and abscond to the roof to look down at the people. It sounded far more interesting than it ought too.
“It’s yer turn to be the thespian, love.”
Her turn to be the thespian? Well then, how could Calia turn down an offer like that. Taking his hand to make her descent off the dais, only to give a flourish spin with her own blue silk skirts to face that of the young royal family. All light up with cheeky smiles and a singular chance to do something spectacular.
“A parting gift for the wee spring prince from his faerie godmother that watches over him and this court, and this visiting mountain princess that has listened to her speak!” she declared oh so boldly to the entire courtyard, being sure all were at attention when she took her own few steps back.
A sweep of her arms from behind her and upwards, calling not on either of Arc’s magic wells but of the great fae tree herself. From deep within the roots and upwards through the trunk, following the branches and to the very leaves and blue hanging blossoms. That enchantment cast upwards farther still until it hit the glass roof itself and started a swirlin’ of white fluffy cloud and a roll of thunder. No lightening or rain followed, only instead the very gentle fall of the tiniest of pastel blue flower petals mixed alongside soft fluffy snowflakes.
“Every year on the spring prince’s day of birth, she’ll bloom the colors of his fancy until the day of his own first born. A reminder to treat her kindly, for she does her best to watch over all of you.”
Not nearly as dramatic of a shower of sparkles, arcane runes and illusional magics, as Calia’s own style had always leaned towards the natural. Leaving all of her dramatics instead by the way she flipped skirt out of the way, with that oh so proud look on her face. No need to make a big goodbye or have a final word.
Only to snatch a unopened bottle away from one of the passing servers before locking her arms with her demon companion. Escorting him away with a flounce to her step and a single blown kiss goodbye to a dame that’d called her a mayfly not so long ago.
Was it so terrible that now that they were seemingly on the path that Calia had spoken of friendship and companionship, that they complimented each other well. Certainly each of them were chaos incarnate. A variation. A black and white representation that could either be in constant feud or harmonious balance. Where she took the offer to be the parting flare –to ensure that this ball would not forget a single thing and make it something to be spoken about for years- the fae of the mountain, truly meant it. To call out and bid that the final act was one from the Fae Tree herself. Making a natural scene that was quite the spectacle to what his had been.
Elemental. Nature. Graceful and powerful. It came from itself and could be so much more than rogue leaves and water spouts.
That the fae tree would bloom for little Malik on his birth day till a family of his own began. Truly words of wise thought. Treat the old tree with all the respect and love. For she did more for them than likely they ever realized.
With the flare ending and Calia making the flip to show themselves out. With an absconded bottle in hand, arm around his and he hardly missed the way she got in a sense the last laugh at that old biddy. Realizing just who the hell she was and finding it impressively hard not to start cackling like a complete maniac.
Of course the old etiquette teacher was the one that had spoken of the foreign princess in such a way. She really was as sharp as a marble and twice as likely to roll in the wrong direction.
With their prompt exit and a quick flitting amongst familiar halls, showing Calia the way to come topside to one of the balconies, they’d have to get a bit creative with scaling further upwards till the red roof of clay fired tiles were neatly under feet. Arc looking to her, “Bare feet may do yah better,” Offering her a hand to help her up the last few inches. The tiles were still warm from the lasting day though he made a careful movement around the space to navigate them to the glass dome overlook inside the Queen’s Court. A twirl of colours between the green leaves, and a brightly open heavens giving a perfect view of unhindered stars, Arc made a bit of a flourish. Rolling off coat to lay it across the portion of roof. Bending at waist and, “Yer highness. For thy royal ass not to get dirty.”
Calia needed no further urging at the suggestion of kicking off her shoes, she did so gladly! Abandoning the pair of slippers down on the balcony, being that much more of a wild creature climbing up buildings and onto rooftops even in the most elegant of elven gowns. With dexterity to having that bottle in her arms, really only reaching to grasp his hand because he’d offered it and not because she needed it. Clearly having made these sorts of escapes herself in her own castle home, with stolen bottles and long skirts to be well skilled at it.
“Are we worried about my royal ass, or this pretty gown that I have to give back to Nysia?” she asked, not really expecting an answer as she was already laughing again. Taking a seat in a gracefully fluid way that required no dramatic plopping. Truly comfortable in that of her own body, to never seem awkward or clumsy in it.
The first thing she did was twist the cork of her stolen bottle and take a hefty drink. Thank goodness it wasn’t the fizzy sort, just some sweet wine that probably had some silly flowery name. Calia passed him the bottle immediately, taking to leaning back on her hands to look up at what was an absolutely beautiful clear night sky. Nothing but stars as far as the eye could see in a myriad of glittering twinkles.
“Do you think they’ll chase us out of town tomorrow,” she remarked oh so casually. “With pitchforks and tomatoes?”
There was some thought about that. Really mulling it over even if it was entirely unnecessary. Considering the two options of concern. Finally revealing itself merely for the flare of replying with his length of thought at all. Coming to kneel and then sit properly down so one didn’t actually take a sudden ride down the side of the roof. Sure that would have been quite the sight to see. “Both. Why? Just thinkin’ about how the goblin princess herself jumps to conclusions, I can only guess she’d have some sort of over the top gossip to why the rear end of the gown was dirty.”
The pop of a cork and the pass over to him, he stole a brief stint to consider the woman. Looking probably more refreshed now than she had in the entire time of being in this palace of airs and regulations and blah blah refinement. With a drink taken and practically telling in old reminiscences of the drink being certainly the ones that the royals kept in stock in their wine cellar for the said occasions. The starflower nectar being the most stand out of tastes. Likely cause the damn thing only bloomed under a starlit sky like tonight and the royal family harvest them for special wines like this.
Offering back the bottle as it was pretty familiar and not at all. It wouldn’t have ever been his first time stealing a tall neck of liquor to steal away into the night. Playing hideaway so no one would find them, though those efforts were always in the means of trying to neck at the pretty thing he managed to encourage to join him.
“Hmm?” Tapered ears lifted then at her casual question. “Well if they don’t, did yah or I really do a good enough job convincin’ them that we be no more than scoundrel’s chased from their kingdom?” Arc asked curiously. Shifting then to stretch hands and feet at the same time. Leaning back to lay across the warm rooftop, “I don’t know about yah lass, but all it would take is one wrong look and I’d have this entire place at my heels. Ain’t no humble brag either!” Laughing sincerely at the whole idea of it.
“I will say, there will likely be less people sad to see our duo leave than those who will be cheering and throwin’ a parade.”
“Damn, I should’ve let loose a bunch of foxes after all,” she surmised with a dramatic sigh. Accepting the bottle back to her own hands for another long drink. Stealing a look at him herself when he laid flat on the warm rooftop tiles. No doubt for a second he could have the entire court shivering in their fancy boots.
No one down below them really understood what it was like to be so overflowing with magic that it was the very essence of you. They had no idea how much strength of willpower it took to use it gently, responsibly. Power could corrupt and twist someone so easily, before they even realized it had happened to them. Bending others to their will and abusing that same magic. Putting on a fun and frivolous show of power was simple, beautiful, a snap of the fingers.
The actual strength wasn’t in the flashy displays of power… it was how they didn’t break bodies and scorch the earth to get what they wanted.
“I don’t want any of this,” she admitted in the moment with a soft shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t want to be a queen. All of the politics and the posturing… the weight of making all of those decisions and then having to put on a face of steadfastness and bravado just to maintain people’s confidence in you. Trapped there, essentially in a gilded cage.”
A soft huff and another drink, before she herself was laying down flat with bottle between them, easy for the passing.
“I’m going to rebuild the kingdom, of course. Take back what is mine and put things right, maybe even better than what they were before. Then I don’t know… I think I might hunt down my siblings and put them back where they belong. Either one of them would make the better ruler than myself, and they are the rightful heirs before me, besides.”
“Still time.” There was no way in hell he was going to start being a good influence or even the one that suggested that such jokes were just that. Jokes. He’d been a demon longer now than he’d been an elf, so some things were fully knitted into him. And well, it wasn’t as though he would have not said the same if he were just an elven man. It would have been amusing to watch those below panic and flee. Being no more than blustering chickens with feathers flying. Actually, it sounded amusing. Enough so he better not say more because he was going to figure out a way to do it with her.
Instead offering the young woman a quizzical look when she laid down and stated so matter of fact that she didn’t want any of this. Needing to be a bit more specific. There was plenty of things she could not want!
Thankfully she did clarify. “As someone who had merely been slightly nearby and almost in it. It’s not any place for those who want to run wild. Free with jackals and climb trees. A cage is a nice way of puttin’ it, petal. But it’d be yer death. Yah might stay standin’ but inside, dull. Gray. Empty. Even birds as pets can come out of the cage, so long as their wings are clipped.”
Of course she was still going to rebuild. Hopefully better. More understanding. Then find the siblings –which he didn’t raise an eyebrow at. At least she was thinking positive- but she did pose a question that he wondered about.
“And what if yah find them. And they too, have no desire to become the heir to a new throne.” Arc motioned, “Just playin’ devil’s advocate a moment. But say they are out there. Doin’ the same thin’ as yah. Experiencin’ life beyond Caeldalmor. No longer shut inside. Seein’ a world for its reality and now they have similar thoughts. That they don’t want that level of responsibility… they found new purpose?” The demon propped head up on arm then, “Then what, lass?” He flashed her a grin, a gentle one. “Just askin’ as yer apparently advisor, which is a total load of bullshit still! What if I wanna just run around as I’ve been doin’? Findin’ pretty thin’s to flirt with and make empty promises too?”
Calia wasn’t expecting him to agree that being queen would likely be the death of her. Of everything she was. But was oh so glad he did, because she had no space for pretty lies and promises. That cheery platitude of You can do it! Believe in yourself!, when that wasn’t the problem. Of course Calia could do it if she had to, if she were forced to… but it would be a nightmare of existence. For the first time in her life she was finally seeing herself and getting to fully be herself. There was no way she could continuing doing that if she were tied down to a throne with a golden chain and a crown.
“I’m pretty sure you can continue running around charming ladies and still be an advisor too,” she answered first, with all amusement. “Ladies do so love a man with a stable job and a fancy title.”
His original question was a good one, though. Putting her in a moment of thoughtful silence, eyeing that stupid gentle grin of his, as she was pretty sure him being devil’s advocate was the only role he ever played and that was not the grin to go with it! Still, if she did manage to find her siblings alive and well, what were the chances they would even come back to take up their rightful place in Caeldalmor?
Haaron was presently the true heir and he was… well, he was about as free spirited as she, in different ways. Talented and smart, a little too charming with women. He would make a good and stable king, though. She’d not worry about him in the slightest.
As for Araminta… perhaps she would be a more natural choice for queen. She certainly had a way with people, a gentle patience and a clever wit. Although, maybe a little too gentle, as it was so hard for Calia to imagine her elder sister having to say a mean or stern word to anyone. Calia would just surround her with the best knight’s guard in the world and she would be fine.
Only… if they had found new lives outside of Caeldalmor, could Calia blame them? Would she allow it? What would she do!
“Hmn… I suppose if they do not come back, a queen I will be. Let the land and forest reclaim the kingdom again. Untraditional and wild, though not in the way of the old clans. Something new.”
“Empty promises.” Arc repeated, “Havin’ any sort of stable job and fancy title means I have responsibilities. Expectations and they can find me after. Every lie I tell doesn’t have the same effect if they can just see yah the next day.” Unaware that she had very much the same experience with that of a particularly silver haired mage. To have the night as it were and then run into another after it was not supposed to be a thing. “Plus, the stable job aspect implies I need coin. I’ve got my ways of doin’ that without more.” Looking sidelong to her, it seemed she was now in thought.
Likely about the whole other part of the wonderment.
Just if her siblings were around and they were happy living their own new lives, then what.
It seemed she had come to the conclusion that she would have to do it. Which of course, “Who says yah have to be queen at all?” Arc considered her then, rolling himself up onto elbows so he wasn’t having to lay like a flat plank. “Why a hierarchy? Why any sort of political power of that magnitude. Hell… yah could just make a town. Put someone else as the mayor and then frolic off into the woods to only appear like a dark specter to spook wee ones. Yah still establish rules and what not but lack the responsibility of doin’ it.”
The demon seemed pleased with his idea then, “That sounds a fuckton better.” Of course the bright rings of heliotrope found their way back to her. “I’d be more inclined to stop in and harass yah myself if that were the case. At this point, I think royalty and the likes is liable to give me a rash.”
“Because the whole of a kingdom is so much more than just a single town?” she answered the obvious. Certain he knew that, after all he came from this cultured world of hierarchies and politics himself. Had his role chosen for him too when he was young and meant to just grow into it, before the entire world of his turned upside down.
It did disrupt her thoughts though, making her turn them over and consider them from different angles. To break away from the structure of how things had always been and consider other sort of options. Tilting head to stare at him with that thoughtful, pondering frown, as if she were just going to get the answers by looking at him.
“I’ll have to find trustworthy folks to maintain a court anyway… so then why can’t I still be a phantom queen? Who the hell is going to stop me, honestly. To rise a kingdom up from ashes and weave alliances and give structure… if they want more out of me after all of that, they can fuck off.”
That might just be the sort of careless, heartlessness that made her a selfish, spoiled beast. Really, though, she could not be expected to do everything herself. The things that she was actually excited for and found challenging would surely be enough!
“Sure, answer it the obvious way.” Flipping hand through the air in a baseless motion, “Yah be talkin’ about doin’ things all different, so. Do it different. No hierarchy. Just a bunch of people livin’ as they wanna. And one place that’s bigger than the other, call that the capitol. Done.” Of course he was not thinking about this seriously. Instead taking bottle to sup at a moment, while she was staring at him.
Long enough that he actually was worried she was going to bore a hole right through him. Setting bottle down, arching a brow and, “Yah stare any longer and I’m guna take it as a invite to flirtin’,” Arc met it almost seriously. Thankfully she ceased and instead mentioned how she was going to have to find trustworthy people anyways. And she could be whatever she wanted.
Which was true. Especially the whole if people wanted more after that, they could fuck off. “Sounds like not the sort of place of my interest then. Borin’. Been there, done that.” Of course he gave her a crooked smirk, pointing a finger at her. “Ah that’s the ploy ain’t it. Once yah back with yer heart, yer magic, yer actually guna take that Velvet Fop of a Prince Consort, down there. Try to launch me into the moon. Hmm, rude firstly. Secondly, We’ll see about that!”
This was not at all a serious conversation, not that Calia even wanted it to be. Just quiet musings about a potential future that might not even happen at all. What it was, though, was relaxing and easy. No expectations of finding answers in the here and now, just talking for the sake of it. So his derailing nonsense about flirting was met with a laugh, and another laugh even more still because he was clearly unimpressed with the Prince Consort.
“You think I am going to wait to launch you to the moon? That I have that kind of patience?” she asked, almost seriously at that! This time of peace was not going to last forever, even Calia knew that. At some point they were going to butt heads about something, and then the true test of whether or not this partnership was going to work would begin.
She swatted that finger away with a hand, pointing her own two at him oh so haughtily.
“You can start your flirtin’ after two weeks or so, when you’re no longer burning with a broken heart about that Puppy Prince winning your girl. I might even let you aim it at me if you can come up with some lines that aren’t going to make me laugh myself into an early grave.”
“Nay. Yah don’t have that kind of patience. However!” Les she start to interrupt him, “What yah lack in that, yah make up in being impish and witty. And yah may not realize it back I can see it. If yah had a plan for the perfect chance and way to do it, yah’d wait. Just to make it every bit spectacular.” Arc suggested. Hands opening them in this magical sort of double fanning wave. “Because, pretty foxglove, yah like the dramatic.” Returning elbows to support, he wasn’t as quick to think about them clunking skulls together.
Likely cause now, he had the full scope of himself. A bit of learning to do but he was going to be more receptive. Unless it was her running in head first to hack and slash for the sake of it.
The finger being swatted aside and her clearly being so pleased with herself, Arc huffed at the broken heart and puppy prince and his girl. “Mhmm rules. Yah… think I’m just guna ignore all of that and do it anyways.” Flashing her that ill behaved beam, “Cause bein’ told not to and don’t, makes it so much better. Yah can’t even deny it!” However, who did she think she was! “Oh yah think so? Just because yer a lush as well, doesn’t mean what yah flirt with is any fair. Yah got breasts! That’s flirtin’ without flirtin’. Just gotta push yer arms together and ask real soft like and bam. The man is all yers. That’s an unfair advantage. No one wants to see a man whippin’ out his branch of destiny!”
“I’ve got lines of all sorts. Cheesy, whimsical, classy and well, I can’t tell yah. Some thin’s are secret.” Waggling brows at her.
Calia opened her mouth ready to declare that she did not like the dramatic… but that’d be an outright lie, wouldn’t it! Rising to an elbow herself to reclaim that bottle for a good drink, her defeat in that measure clear across her face from the wrinkle nose huff she was giving. Maybe it was true too that she did love a well executed plan when it came to having a bit of vengeance.
She’d hit it directly on the mark though about him still being fussed about Liriel, certain he absolutely was going to find a way to move on from those feelings as soon as he could with any dame that was willing! Matching that grin of his with a pleased smug one of her own.
“I guess I can’t deny that I have advantages. All a pretty girl has to do is say sleep with me and the man’s got his pants dropped before we make it out the door.”
She couldn’t take branch of destiny with any sort of straight face, though, immediately cackling at the stupidity of it.
“You don’t have to tell me. Your words are so full of bullshit, you may as well have brown eyes instead of violet. You’re welcome to any silly miss that believes the nonsense spilling out your mouth! At least I’ll have their beaus distracted so you don’t get your head knocked in.”
“Exactly. But a word on that, if a man does drop his pants that fast, best be runnin’. Ain’t sure where that one has been or what sort of crazy stalker they guna be turnin’ into.” It was merely hunch but surely there was a bit of wit to wait before starting to prepare yourself for getting all nestled up. He’d prefer thinking such horrible things instead of wallowing over a love gone.
Sure he wasn’t any sort of marriage material but damn, he was still a fool that had believed otherwise for a while. Then forgot. And now remembered!
And yes, he was smarting after the fact that Liriel had selected that lace-cuffed lordling. Not that he should have expected her to wait but really! Really… If he was feeling melodramatic, he could have wailed utter nonsense of how he was never guna find someone. All lies, he did and didn’t care. The latter half the portion that was trying so hard right now to think about moving on fast.
“Alright now, yah might be half correct. But when it comes to yah, it ain’t no bullshit. I am a man of some mettle, Lia. And don’t yah be telling me that sort of things when yah used to glamour yerself to avoid being noticed.” Arc puffed a little at that, “And secondly, I don’t go for the married or selected ones, believe it or not. It’s the new love sort of ones. Because they just wanna find love and well… they be akin to peckin’ off the weakest of the herd. Don’t let the horns and fangs and claws fool yah, I was kinda cute as a younger lad! Cute, not dumb. No one wants to be with a married sort. They got bigger issues if they flirtin’ to be scooped and given a night of ecstasy wailin’.”
“Hmn,” a soft sound of agreement that no one in their right mind should be tumbling with a man so eager, he didn’t have the sense of when best to remove his trousers. Even giggling about it, as of course she’d encountered once or twice and indeed backed out of that encounter just as quickly as she could.
There really was a special kind of skill in bar crawling and picking out bedmates that weren’t going to leave you fearing for your life or full of all kinds of regrets! She’d surely gone through the motions of trial and error to find out what worked and what didn’t, to where now she could show up somewhere and in most cases land in bed with someone that wasn’t a whole ass problem.
She did not want to think about Starling right now.
Soon to grimace at the demon’s own taste in women. “So you’re out there making yourself their first heartbreak instead of first love,” she tsked. Not any real judgement there, just a teasing click of her tongue. “…although I wonder is this a new decision on your part, after stealing another demon’s lady.”
“I don’t have patience for young doe-eyed boys,” she grinned easily. “The ones looking for love and romance and wives are nothing but trouble. Worst trouble than any married man, not that I am apt to fool around with those either. Best to find those eternal bachelors that are perfectly content with a single night.”
“Makes the glamour of being forgettable all the easier,” she pointed out with a gentle flick to his forehead.
“First heartbreak, yah wound me, lass.” Mocking the pain of course because really was he going to get upset about that. Not at all. “I like to think of it as a service. Their first encounter. Wild. Whimsy, full of passion and heady affections. And then come mornin’ I’m no more than a memory. One that the next bloke either has to live up to or not.” Arc sighed softly as though he were really sincere about it.
Of course, he wasn’t. As she shortly clicked her tongue about the whole getting involved with the demon woman. “Okay, demon’s have no morals in that regard. She came on to me and I’m not about to say no to that level of stunnin’.” And he had ulterior motives which had not panned out.
Set aside to hear how Calia had herself a list of do not’s herself. The one’s who were looking for a connection. No married ones. Eternal bachelors.
Even if he was getting flicked in the head, rubbing the spot. “Well then, let me ask yah this, what happens if yah find someone yah actually like. And thin’s start changin’. No one can escape love, I’m a prime example. Five days ago I would have denied it and today, as yah said, I’m nursin’ a heartbreak. Surely not even yah are unable to do so.”
“I got crushes and infatuations out of my system a long time ago,” she laughed with that. Calia had started young too, as soon as she realized boys were for things more than just fighting with, she’d crushed hard on any sweet and charming lad that heaped attention on her. Without discretion or sense too, as she always did like the older ones that likely taking advantage of her youth and experience at the time. Including one sorcerer that’d broken that streak with a lesson well learned.
There was a shrug of her shoulders as she lay herself flat again, that laughter fading to a more genuine expression of tempered conversation.
“Love is not for me. Not that sort anyway. It’s hard to take the whole show of it seriously, when I know the words are just thickly laid charm. Moments manufactured to be romantic and sweet. Nothing ever feels sincere, and then on top of it I have to find someone that can live up to expectations? Impossible ones, too because I myself am impossible.”
Calia grinned then, a wicked sort of teasing smile.
“Unlike you, I am not romantic and sentimental. Me finding a love will be a cold day in hell, likely because I am there myself being a pain in every demon lord’s ass.”
It was peculiar to him that she was then talking about such things as if they were so inconsequential. So worthless, listening to her. “I thought the thin’ was to cut the bullshit between us.” Arc stated then in a strange sincerity that was no act. While she was all smiles and talking about herself as if she were this unobtainable thing because it was a good thing, he was surprisingly hearing it all as this act. “Yah say romantic and sentimental as if it’s a bad thin’.” Brows knitted softly, “If yah really be thinkin’ it that way, yer makin’ me wonder if trustin’ yah this night was wise. And tellin’ me that basically all that was felt, or said this night was part of that manufactured moments.” He had meant every word said this evening, even if she did just tell him recently he was so full of shit his eyes were brown.
It was his turn to sit up.
To look around and laugh at himself. “Ah never mind.” He pushed the bottle towards her then, “Yer likely right. What the hell is the point right.” Arc grinned brightly shoving it under rug, blaming it all on the fact that she was right. Right now he was sentimental and it was fucking with his head. “Yah better finish that bottle. It’s fuckin’ too sweet to be anythin’ half decent. Might even take that bleach yah brought last time.” Even if it was liable to take the hair off a cat five miles away.
Looking upwards at the sky, “What time yah think they will be gatherin’ the pitchforks? Bright an early, or will they be sleepin’ off hangovers? I’d like to know if we guna be doin’ early mornin’ cardio or not.”
Calia had blundered into saying the wrong thing again, when they were doing so well too. Not understanding at all why he suddenly cared if she believed in love or not, until it hit her that maybe it was the worst thing to say to a man who just had to face the reality that the girl he once loved was now married and with a new baby. She might as well had said love wasn’t real and everything was a lie.
Sort of made her entire spiel like digging a knife into him when he was already down.
He was doing that thing too that the woman in question had warned her about. Deflecting, avoiding. Liable to go bury himself back in his study and pretend like none of it really mattered.
Calia sat back up herself, reaching out to grip his arm, just incase he decided to get jumping off the roof just to spite her.
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with romance and sentiments,” she said softly, with all earnest. “What do I know anyway? It’s not like I’ve even been truly in love with anyone to know the difference.” She gave that arm a gentle shake then. “And don’t go twisting things, because nothing you said to me tonight was out of romantic sentiment. It’s not the same. Just because I’m all fucked up on the inside doesn’t mean there isn’t a world full of beautiful loves and romances that are real and true.”
It had been a bit too easy, hadn’t it. While he was coming around quickly to find a strong level of respect for the mountain woman, he also could recognize that he likely was far more thin-skinned than he usually would have been. Not her fault, it was something he needed to manage. Less they were going to have quite the awkward contract with him being the most whiny bitch of a demon ever created. Even to him that sounded awful.
Honestly, she wasn’t wrong. What the hell was the point of having sentiments or romance anyways. And why did it have to niggle at him. Blaming it perfectly on that unfortunately, he was going to through a heartbreak. Instead of being the one that made others go through it because of him.
“Yer fine.” He wasn’t going to go off the handle or cross his arms like a spoiled brat. Sticking out bottom lip to figuratively take his ball and go play somewhere else. She was just speaking of her own point of view. It was her opinion. Her validity. Her understanding.
Nothing was meant by it. “Just forget about it.” Arc gave her hand a light pat. “I’m just a bit more sensitive that I realized. Yah wouldn’t and couldn’t have known, think nothin’ of it, Lia.” He wasn’t going to pull any more from her efforts of conversation. Nor ask her to explain what was black and white.
They were each their own people. That meant difference of thoughts, opinions and everything in-between. “Shit happens. We move on, right.” Nodding to affirm he wasn’t about to linger and press on such a worthless topic. Granted, he didn’t know what to say after either.
Nothing was coming to mind that wouldn’t be the very obvious and painfully awkward attempt on trying to get them past this nonsense.
“Yes, but you’re not gonna move on in a few short days,” she did point out. No matter how much she wanted to, Calia couldn’t fix this one for him. She could distract him with magic, be supportive in conversation, get him stupid drunk even… but she couldn’t heal his heart any faster. This was just how it would be for awhile, until bit by bit little things wouldn’t set him back into a mood again. Hopefully he did understand that she didn’t have a problem with love. They shared a lot of similarities and experiences in many things, but the world of love definitely wasn’t one of them.
“Some rest would do you well,” she suggested, taking the cue that it was best to leave that conversation behind. “We have no more obligations here and can leave as soon as we wish.”
Calia did hesitate for a moment. “…although we ought to check on Starling and remove that enchantment of mine if he hasn’t shaken it himself already. Probably shouldn’t leave until that mess is settled.”
Shoulders shrugged as nonchalantly as they could. Knowing that even if he wasn’t going to just be suddenly all better and able to look back to this place with the sort of vehement screw you that he wanted, it was also not something she had to concern herself with. “It’s still not a thin’ that yah need to tiptoe around. Again, shit happens. It’s just a part that needs to be killed so I won’t be distracted or bothered in the future.”
Anyways, it was unlikely to happen again. Love, that was. It was a mortal person’s thing and he was not that. A being that traded those emotions away for power that he didn’t know was happening! Embracing the pandemonium that was his mostly immortal existence was easily the wiser of decisions. Not to get too comfy here or anywhere. No matter how much those memories came back, he was not an elf. As Omal said, he was neither Silverstone or Bloodworth. No longer a denizen here and had no family left.
His task was to help Calia till she got what she needed and then go on their merry little ways.
Nodding to the mention of rest as it would be a good idea to get, he did consider her through the corner of eye at the mention of Starling. Checking to see if he went batshit crazy because of her empathy spell or if he was just going to be wondering why they had stopped by at all. They’d not know unless it was done. “Well, it depends which way yah wanna go next. Yer the leader after all. To the east is where the tower is that he would be squattin’ in. So it can be done.” Cracking his neck and considering the world once more, he already made a quiet decision that he’d escort Calia back to her room and probably actually just go try his luck with a bit of glamouring himself.
He might not be well in the sense of feeling useless emotions, but he could at least try to feel something else. “Best walk yah back to yer room. Or sneak yah in to avoid madam nosy princess.”
If Arc didn’t want Calia to worry, he really shouldn’t be saying parts of himself needed to be killed off. Especially if it was his capability to love someone! In the end, though, she did understand where he was at. When your grief was so strong, you’d rather just not feel anything at all so you can get away from it. In the end, he was stuck with her too, so where was he meant to find a lasting romance while they traveled through the mountains? He’d not get to stay anywhere longer enough!
She left it be, bunting her forehead to his shoulder for the briefest of moments with a sigh, before she adjusted skirts to bring herself back up to her feet without tilting head first off the roof.
“Then to the east we go first. I’m not going to be able to sleep, if I don’t at least check,” she admitted with a grimace. Calia really shouldn’t have cast such an enchantment in the first place, just… she was in her head, in the moment! Frustrated with that stupid man, and with her own past mistakes of not doing something when she should’ve.
“Come on then, beetlebug. I can glamour, but I’ve not quite figured out illusion yet to evade huntress princesses, that is all you.”
It would all go away eventually. One, he, knew this. Very well in fact. That what restless, pricking unease that moved in his chest with a disclosure that what had been, would fade. That her own opinions for herself, in general would preside and he would not take offense to hear how little she thought of herself. Of him. Of it all.
Eventually they’d just be once more.
It would be best to relive that motto of I’m a demon.
The wonderment of whether or not to check on the former slaver of his own pain, he nodded to her reveal of desire. To check so she might cease a chance of no sleep because it was pressed upon her conscience. “To the east.” Echoing her choice. “It will take about two days if I recall correctly.” In case she was wondering.
Reclaiming feet beneath himself with a mollified curiosity to being called something that turned on tired smile. “Ah but yah be rather clever and astute. Surely yah have at least ideas of how to pull such illusions. The contract alone ought to have yah knowin’ how to do both minor and major.” Arc pointed out but swept down to pickup both jacket and bottle.
“Apply such knowledge with yer nature preferences and yah could create quite the distraction, lass.”
Calia watched him shift to his own feet, standing there on the roof with her arms crossed and just sort of filing away details without really being conscious of it. How the whole of him seemed to be muted when he was deep in his own head, as there was certainly a difference in him now having the full range of his memories. No longer being able to hide behind being just a demon, any more than she herself could live in her rage with all other emotion locked down in a tiny box.
Strange she was actually looking forward to this journey now, with him included.
“Knowing how and then actually doing are very different things,” she told him, and surely he knew that too. One could read all the books and instructions in the world, but all that knowledge didn’t really help when it came to the physical doing. That still required a bit of practice, a little experience, figuring out how your own body could work and do the thing.
“We’ll have time to figure it out.” She smiled anyway with a waggle of brows, dropping her arms to scoot herself down to the ledge. All these silk skirts made things a little more precarious than usual, but Calia was confident in her strength and dexterity. Being absolutely fearless to the point of seeming reckless with her climbing and jumping. Until she was down safely on the balcony to tuck her feet back into fancy shoes.
“Well yer halfway there.” The man replied easily setting feet along the careful stride upon the roof. Although it would be highly problematic if either one of them or both decided to go sledding down the sides to the ground, they could stop the plummet. It would just take a faster reaction to saving themselves than falling! “Yah know how. Now it’s just doin’. The less thought, the easier it comes. Less routine, less regulations, just feelin’ it out.” Likely how she did most of her magic was by simply doing what felt right.
A controlled response of course for if there was too much freedom it could backfire. Though he highly doubted Calia had ever had magic backfire at her.
It wasn’t exactly fun. Especially depending what one was trying to do with it. Rhiann mentioned student’s launching animals into space, but he had personally seem mages polymorph themselves into sheep rather than their opponent!
“Aye.” Agreeing that there was time yet to figure it all out. Yet he was curious to where her travels were to take her after the whole check in on the gleaming gasbag.
As she descended first as he was in fact being attentive to ensure there was no icy blue shooting star falling to the ground this night, one was quick behind her. Dropping with a heavy land. Waiting for her to get her shoes on so he could both hand her the bottle, put his coat back on properly now –should have done that sooner- and offered arm to be at least mimicking that of the courtly gentleman that had taken the insult to her lack of dance prior. He did actually believe Nysia wouldn’t be present, likely still amongst the party because it was where all the gossip and interest was. Or she was with family.
Filing back into the halls, the sound of the court was still lively. Giving them freedom to vanish down the back halls that were vaguely guarded at this point, and once through a servant’s hallway to evade what was clearly a necking couple that were a bit too deep into their own affairs to realize they weren’t that well hidden.
Sliding out the other side into Nysia’s wing of the sprawling home of elven royalty. To guide daughter of the summit and frost to that of door of her room. Taking hand to slide and bow over it instead of playing the game of chaste lip pressing across knuckles. “Merely call at me when yer ready to escape properly tomorrow, Lia.” Arc offered her the chance this time to summon him. So she wouldn’t have to feel terrible or worried that it would cause some sort of great flare of fire in his want to disobey.
Being led around like, well, like the princess she was born as, was a very strange thing when she was more used to the casualness of her mountain home and the fact that she tended to give young men the sort of stares that violently sad don’t even try it. Giving in to allow it in this instance because he himself seemed to enjoy these silly little physical traditions. Betting it all came back to him being a smidge dramatic and absolutely full of romantic sentimentality.
Besides, it wasn’t so bad when it was simple comradery. Lacking those expectations that made it so awkward.
Even so, Calia still found it difficult not to laugh when he gave such a lordly bow. Squeezing his hand for the efforts before she’d release and turned to open up her door. Pausing there to cast a quick look over her shoulder.
“Thank you for tonight,” she told him with all gentle sincerity. “Sleep easy.”
A polite nod to the being thanked for the evening. It was hardly much. He might have expressed how it was of no problem. That she deserved to feel like the most stunning person even for one night. That it was all because she had done something so unnecessary for him. That it had purpose and was important for him. That it was an honour!
None of it came.
He smiled. Nodded again and turned to slip away to wander the halls for a easy exit that would not allow others to think of ways to warn that he was on the prowl. Of course he evaded as many as he could and those he could not, did the evading for him. Notoriety did have its perks!
For once the night air was on him, he hardly waited to change appearance entirely. To shift and shape and disappear into the evening in search of just scratching that itch in hopes it would just cease this private wallowing. It was time for a step forward and he was the decider of that.