| Logs |
2011 March 22
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
A Bustle in the Hedgerow
It's been quite a few years since Chanticleer joined the caravan, and traveling across the wild continent has gotten to be almost routine. Daytime means moving with the wagons, scouting ahead of the main train on Chevrefoil, or doing business in the various settlements and cities. Nighttime on the trail means taking turns at standing watch. It's a duty everyone shares once they've reached an age to be trusted not to get distracted. The non-humans tend to take the darkest shifts, since their eyes are sharper than the fully-human members of the caravan, and Suraksha is known to check in with each shift.
This particular night even most of the humans would have no problem seeing, since the moon is full and shines across the Eastern Mountains brightly enough for anyone to see easily. The caravan is three days' travel east of Oak Ridge, home of the Tap/engineer who first reverse-engineered a device to allow non-Taps to use the energy of the leylines. The mountains they travel through now are not as majestic as the Rockies, but they are eons older and have some of the richest quartz veins in the continent, making them powerful in their own right.
Suraksha paces silently through the night in tiger form, scenting the cool air and feeling relaxed. It's been a very profitable run; they'd brought a load of rough crystal to the Oak Ridge techies which had everyone elated. Now the caravan is traveling eastward, and the tiger-woman is looking forward to selling the handful of immensely profitable finished crystal lattices up along the eastern seaboard.
Joe is paired with Chanticleer on this watch; weather in this part of the world tends to be unpredictable, so the Storm Tap is invaluable. Chanticleer remains quite alert for the night watch. He rather sort of enjoys it, actually; it gives him a chance to loosen his glamour a little and relax a bit, to enjoy the cool night air. He doesn't let his mind drift -- that would be foolish -- but it does give him a chance to stretch his legs without worrying about his 'look.'
He never paid much attention to glamour when he was in Roy's service. Roy never made it a secret he hired non-humans, and he seemed to revel in the notoriety amongst some of the other cities. But Chanti had been safe there, and aside from a few bigoted gangs -- like Moynahan's -- he didn't have much to fear from being a sidhe. Of course, things change, and a lot of towns on the caravan's route don't take kindly to non-humans. Plus... he doesn't want his sidhe-ness to be too well-known; he realized a little belatedly it would do no good to run into another sidhe, -- one who was convinced all of the D'Anvers were in fact dead.
Suraksha drifts around the guard circle; some of the guards spot her while others do not. The dogs who are upwind of her catch her scent, of course, and warn those walking with them. Suraksha's pleased, overall... the people on watch are as alert as they can be for their various species, and cross-species pairings work well to augment any weaknesses anyone has.
Chanticleer doesn't entirely notice the large tigress coming up, though he is a little wary when the animals seem to go still or flutter agitatedly. Suraksha finds Joe, Tonnerre, and Chanticleer on the far side of the encampment. The human has the dog with him, with Chanticleer a few paces off, so one attacker cannot take out all of them at once. Since the big tiger walked up from downwind, Tonnerre hasn't alerted to her. Chanti, however, has his head high and turning, trying to figure out what's caused the nightlife to go suddenly silent. The big tiger chuffs softly, causing Tonnerre to jump and whirl -- then throw himself in tail-wagging slobberiness on the tiger!
Chanticleer gives a start when he hears the chuffing sound, then relaxes when he recognizes Suraksha, letting out a breath. Joe too is startled at first, but then chuckles quietly when Suraksha is glommed on by the enormous dog. Tonnerre has never grown out of the puppy phase, even though he's definitely an adult by now. Joe's voice is quiet as he calls a greeting to the tiger. Suraksha's returned greeting is another chuffing laugh, and she gently pins the big dog with one broad paw, murmuring, "Quie'dh, boy. Good dog." She glances around at the two men, adding with low-growled pleasure, "Nice 'n quie'dh. Good here?"
Once Tonnerre is calm, Joe calls him over, "Yeah. Just the occasional squirrel or 'coon. These woods aren't ever actually quiet." All around them are soft sounds -- the wind, tree frogs, cicadas.
Suraksha nods relaxedly, "Good, tha'dh. Says all calm." She sits and grooms a burr out of one paw as her ears flick, listening to the night sounds -- and catches something odd. Amongst the normal night noises there's the sound of something moving hurriedly through leaves: rustling and small snapping sounds -- very small. Whatever's out there can't be larger than a badger. Suraksha raises her head, listening curiously. That's not Alg or any of the dogs -- wrong size and way of moving. She sniffs, her jaws parting to draw the night air across her tongue as well.
Chanticleer perks his ears alertly. Something small is out there and running around. He also hears a high-pitched voice going along with the sounds. It's a bit too far to hear clearly, but it's saying the same thing over and over again; it sounds excited or anxious. He frowns and lets the others know what he hears. At the same time, Suraksha growls quietly, "Small in'dhruder gh'oming..." as she rises to her feet and drifts to crouch behind a tree. She nods to the night-sighted sidhe, her tail lashing once or twice and her hindquarters shifting as she gets into pounce mode -- then she goes utterly, alertly still. She doesn't recognize the scent at all... and it's coming their way.
A few minutes later a tiny figure emerges into the clearing. It is indeed moving quickly and, truth be told, somewhat clumsily. The voice is now audible to everyone, saying over and over, "Sidhe and tiger. Bring them quick. Sidhe and tiger. Bring them quick," as if the creature is afraid it might forget the instructions. When it realizes it's in the presence of other people it stands up on its hind legs and blinks. The creature is something between a rabbit and a squirrel; the ears are tufted and the tail is long and twitchy. Its eyes, which are open extremely wide, shine violet in the bright moonlight and it says, "Oh!" in a startled voice, hand-like paws held up in surprise.
Suraksha pounces out once the entity is in the clearing, blocking the exit. She doesn't pounce on the tiny creature, though -- it looks just a bit fragile. Her jaws part in a grin, "Who're you?"
Chanticleer blinks and looks to Suraksha. "Sidhe... and tiger," he murmurs, then looks back to the creature, trying to identify it -- though he also loosens his sword in its scabbard.
There's no way the creature is anything but fae. There's nothing like it in nature -- at least nothing like it that talks. The creature claps its paws together happily and takes a deep breath, "Jongleur! Me! Jongleur!" It points excitedly at Chanticleer and then at Suraksha, "Sidhe! Tiger! Yesyesyes! Comecomecome!"
Suraksha raises an eyebrow, which shines startlingly pale in the moonlight. "Who send you?" She adds dryly, "We go, spend nigh'dh, come ba'gh year later? No than'ghs."
Jongleur is bouncing eagerly in place, then does a little dance, "Found them! Found them! Sidhe and tiger! Jongleur found them!" It stops at the question from the tiger, though it doesn't seem surprised Suraksha is talking. "Lady sent me! Said find sidhe and tiger and bring back! I find! You come back!" At her second comment it shakes its head, "Nonono! Lady made promise! Said say you would come back this night! Before sun up! Now you come?"
Chanticleer frowns a little. "I'm not liking this much. Who is the Lady?"
Suraksha tilts her head, her ears pricked in interest, "Wha'dh lady?" She blinks at the promise, glancing up at Chanticleer, "Lady plan ahead. Tha'dh good, yah?" She sounds like she's not yet certain of that, but willing to give the person the benefit of the doubt. She waits for an answer on who the lady is, though.
Jongleur looks startled -- or maybe it just always looks that way. "The lady, sillies! She made promise! Keeps promises! You come now!"
Suraksha frowns thoughtfully, considering. A fey lady... and it's towards the end of the year. The tigress would hazard the guess it's one of the Unseelie, then. She glances at the tiny entity, "Unseelie?"
Chanticleer rubs his chin a little. "That's not terribly reassuring... or informative." At Suraksha's question he stiffens a little. Unseelie... that would be dangerous.
Jongleur says, "Yesyesyes. Unseelie Lady. Keeps promises. Says comecomecome! Very urgent." It points at Chanti and Suraksha again, "Sidhe! And Tiger!"
Suraksha nods decisively at that, glancing to Joe, "I gone for nigh', ba'gh by dawn. Dh'ell Sna'tha when you off du'dhee, please, yah?" She grins at the entity, "Gonna need clothes. She promise tha'dh dh'oo?" then adds to Chanticleer, "Godda go, Chan'dhi. Gh'oming?"
Chanticleer murmurs to Suraksha, "The way this... uhm, fellow is talking, I get the feeling that his Lady is probably fairly high in the ranks of the Unseelie. I hate to say it, but it might not be good to ignore her."
Jongleur does another little dance, "Yesyesyes! Clothes there! Comecomecome! Sidhe and tiger come with Jongleur to see the Lady!"
Suraksha chuffs a laugh at the entity's cuteness and elation, even though she knows not to assume that's all there is to any Unseelie. She grins and nods to the sidhe, "Moun'dh up, yah?" She glances at the entity, adding, "Wanna ride?" Jongleur squeaks happily and bounds over, scrambling up and onto Suraksha's head so quickly that it seems almost a blur. It's a quick little critter. Chanticleer blinks to Suraksha, then nods, carefully clambering onto Suraksha's back and holding on. Suraksha chuffs another laugh as the two light entities climb onto her back. She nods to Joe, "Ba'gh soon!" then turns and pads back the way Jongleur came.
Jongleur holds onto Suraksha's ears and happily sings a nonsense song that seems mostly to talk about how smart and brave it is to bring back the sidhe and the tiger to the Lady. As the tiger-woman lengthens her stride into an easy canter she adds curiously to Jongleur, "The Lady... Unseelie Gh'ueen?"
Jongleur nearly turns itself upside down to look at Suraksha, "Queen! Lady Queen! Queen Lady!"
Suraksha blinks at the entity hanging over her face, then gives a short growf of laughter, tossing her head slightly, "Ou'dh of eyes, Chyongleur -- can'dh see!" Jongleur squeaks, then guides them through the woods and down a gully to one of the limestone caves that can sometimes be found in these mountains. She's still chuckling as she trots down the gully, adding to Chanticleer, "Ey, Chan'dhi -- you ef'her mee'dh Unseelie Gh'ueen?"
Chanticleer shakes his head. "No, actually... never had the, uh, opportunity to meet one. Or her. If it is the The Unseelie Queen."
Suraksha rumbles curiously to Chanticleer, "There more than one? Ne'fher knew."
The little entity chitters and points into the cave, "Inininin!"
Suraksha slows, padding silently through the night. She scents the cool air flowing out of the cave, pausing at the entrance. "In here?"
Jongleur bounces on Suraksha's head, nearly flattening her striped ears, "Yesyesyes! Door in there! Go to the Lady! Quickquickquick!"
Chanticleer says, "There may or may not be, Lady. Sometimes at the Court more than one person claimed to be royalty but weren't. It was almost a game for some of them." His lips quirk a little. "The fey reputation for being whimsical and rather unpredictable is sometimes well-deserved."
Suraksha chuckles again, quietly rumbling, "Sound abou'dh righ'dh, yah, from wha'dh I see with Sna'tha." She pads into the cave, her head turning as she glances cautiously around -- she doesn't want to scrape off either of her riders.
Jongleur crouches down atop Suraksha's head and chatters happily, "Ininin!" Just inside the mouth of the cave, the air changes. It seems too dry to be the temperate rainforest of the mountains and there's a slight scent of wood smoke. It's much darker than out under the full moon and the sounds of all the night creatures are gone. It is far too dark to see at first, but then a light appears as if around a bend in a corridor.
Chanticleer blinks, his nose twitching. "A bit worrisome," he murmurs. "I'd have thought the Unseelie court was more... elaborate. You know: larger, more visible, Gothic, courtiers in black silks and leathers, that sort of thing... then again, that may be me trying to contrast the Seelie court...." Jongleur giggles to itself and leaps off Suraksha's head to scamper down the hallway they find themselves in. The corridor is elaborately arched, with soaring ceilings and tapestries on the walls. As they walk torches begin to appear in brackets high up, casting flickering light.
Suraksha snorts amusedly at Chanticleer's quiet murmuring, speeding up into a ground-covering trot to stay with the tiny Jongleur. "Is... when they wan'dh i'dh so." She grins, "Preddy." More dryly she adds, "Bedder be good clothes. Don' wan' 'nother leather-stra'bhs goddess ou'dhfi'dh. Embarrassing."
Jongleur pauses at an intersection and waves them on before bounding off. It gets blurry again as it moves. Apparently the little creature is quite fast, and is used to having to stop and wait on slower people -- because it's waiting at the end of the second corridor. Suraksha chuckles again, bounding in swift grace after the tiny beast once she's sure the halls are wide and tall enough for her. It goes on like that for several minutes -- appearing at an intersection, waving them on, then disappearing on ahead. Eventually they come to a large oak door with elaborate brass hardware. Instead of the normal torches there are candelabra at either side and a couple of worn places in the stone, as if there is usually someone standing there. Suraksha pauses at the door, then glances inquiringly at the little Unseelie, "We kno'gh?"
Jongleur is already knocking, chattering, "Got them! Sidhe and tiger! Jongleur got them!"
Chanticleer blinks, looking up at the door. "Okay, this is more in line with what I was envisioning." He wonders what they're doing there, and more importantly if this Queen considers him to still be a member of the Court.
Suraksha chuckles, turning her head to murmur, "Dismoun'dh for digni'dhy?" She adds softly, "Wonder why she wan'dhs you 'n me, though?"
Chanticleer smiles wryly and slips from Suraksha's back. "I don't know," he murmurs. He can think of reasons why sidhe nobility would want him, maybe, but not Suraksha and him both.
Suraksha runs her tongue in a few quick swipes over herself so she looks presentable, then checks Chanticleer as well. A few tugs to his tunic, rearing up to give him a quick tongue swipe on that cowlick he can't ever seem to control -- then she nods, satisfied, and drops down to all fours again. She straightens, her shoulders going back a bit and her head raised proudly high so she looks proper for visiting royalty. She's been well schooled by both the Hetaera school and her godsmother, and she has no intention of embarrassing either of them.
The door swings open with a theatrical groan of hinges, admitting them to a large chamber. The stone floor is heavily layered with lush carpets and the tall windows are covered with filmy white drapes that shift slightly in some wind. An enormous bed with heavy velvet hangings around it dominates the space. A fireplace crackles in one wall and a tall, slim figure stands beside it. Her hair is long and very dark and her skin is extremely pale. Seen in profile her face is sharp but lovely; the fire glints off amber-yellow eyes ringed in kohl, and her lips are painted reddish-plum. Her dress is singularly slinky and hugs the slender curves of her body, helped along by a waist cincher which emphasizes hips and bust. Dark gems about her throat seem to float without a chain to keep them in place. She turns as they enter.
Suraksha pads in with all the slow, heavy dignity over half a ton of body mass offers, then pauses and sits, curling her long tail neatly about her forepaws. She recognizes the Unseelie Queen from being introduced at a party, and she has to concentrate to keep her hackles from rising with nervousness. Instead she bows her head courteously, rumbling with careful enunciation, "Lady, we are here. How may we hel'bh?" Suraksha doesn't even bother wondering how a room in an underground cave can have night breezes coming through the window. It's Faerie... it's creepy and unsettling and exactly how Sna'thaid has described and show it to her godsdaughter. Chanticleer swallows a little, inclining his head in a polite bow -- this is almost certainly royalty, even if it's assumed. That there's a breeze in the underground room is disturbing enough to him.
The woman's smile would be warm if it reached her eyes, "Thank you for..." She blinks in surprise and says, "Who are you?" This seems to be directed at Chanticleer.
Suraksha tilts her head in confusion, but rumbles politely enough, "You sen'dh for dh'iger 'n sidhe, Lady."
Chanticleer blinks a bit, looking around as if she may have been looking behind him. "Er... me, m'Lady? My name is Chanticleer."
Suraksha blinks slowly at a horrible thought, "Dh'iger... 'n sidhe! Oh, cra'bh. You wan'ed Whi'dhe Dagger, yah? Godsmama?" She casually leans a bit, so she's clearly here with Chanticleer, and rumbles firmly, "No worry. Chan'dhi very de'bhendable." Her tail uncoils from about her forepaws and casually curls about Chanticleer's legs as well.
The Lady's brows go up and she looks Chanticleer over carefully, "You are not who I expected. Yes, I was expecting the White Dagger." She sighs and rolls her amber eyes, "I should have send someone with a brain larger than a walnut." Jongleur doesn't actually seem to be present to be insulted. She adds to Suraksha, "He may be dependable, but he is not the most feared assassin the Unseelie Court has seen in three centuries."
Chanticleer blinks in surprise. Oh. The White Dagger -- Sna'thaid. The Unseelie Queen was looking for Sna'tha and Suraksha. "Well. This is slightly awkward," he says with as much courtly politesse and candor as he can manage.
Suraksha raises an eyebrow, rumbling amusedly, "May I haf clothes, please? Gonna need tal'ghing, yah?"
The Lady says, "Oh. Yes. Of course." She motions toward a door which neither Chanticleer nor Suraksha remembers having been there when they arrived, "In there. Please take whatever pleases you."
Suraksha nods courteously again, rising and rumbling, "With your bh'ermission, Lady Morganna," before she pads silently into the next room, pulling the door mostly closed behind her with one massive paw. She looks around curiously as she shifts back into human form.
Morganna looks Chanticleer over as Suraksha leaves. She reaches up to the mantelpiece and takes down a glass of wine, sipping it as she considers the sidhe. Finally she says, "You aren't one of mine. I think I would recognize you." She takes a step across the floor toward him and the slit in the side of her gown is revealed. It goes all the way up to her left hip, where there are three delicate chains holding it closed. It also reveals the knee-high boots with heels that look almost too delicate to hold under someone of her apparent height. The Unseelie Queen's eyes come to rest on Chanticleer's sword, "But you are a warrior. That could be useful. Perhaps more useful than an assassin. Please have a seat while we wait for your companion." She motions toward a small sitting area with a couch and a pair of chairs. There's a table there that hold a decanter and two more wineglasses.
Chanticleer blinks a little, realizing -- belatedly -- that this is the Unseelie Queen. There are occasional pretenders, but they don't last long. Morganna is strong magically and politically, she herself being equal to both Titania and Oberon. She keeps her word, but it's the letter of her word rather than the spirit. He reaches up to adjust his collar a little, trying to hide his nervousness. "Ah... no, Your Majesty." Even when the royalty is not your royalty, you treat them like Royalty. "I'm... I was once of the Seelie Court, but have not attended in many years." [Please leave it at that, please leave it at that, please leave it at that....] He blinks as she continues speaking, and adds, "Thank you, Your Majesty."
He steps carefully over to the... [Which is the more appropriate choice in this situation? The protocol for manners is rather ephemeral; normally the knight would wait for the noble to be seated first but when invited to do so first- oh, stop analyzing it! You're in the presence of Morganna, if she tells you to sit, you sit -- ere she does worse things to you than turn you into a donkey!] He sits at one end of the couch, leaving plenty of room for anyone else but leaving the chairs for Suraksha and Morganna.
The room-sized closet Suraksha finds herself in is not over-stocked with practical clothes. In fact, it's much closer to the comment she made about leather straps. Morganna's tastes are, predictably perhaps, in the line of sensual and provocative. Most of the clothes are made to fit her long, slender figure; Suraksha has to look a while before she finds something that will fit her more petite, curvy frame. The dress is deep red velvet and comes just short of Suraksha's knees; on Morganna it would come quite high on the thigh. The neckline is high, but the triangular cutout on the chest requires Suraksha to borrow one of the many corsets in the closet. As a result her breasts are displayed to perfection. Most of the shoes are high heeled and only a few pair go with the dress. The ones she picks seem to be made of some sort of reptile hide and glisten in the low light. The heels are black glass and clink delicately as she walks.
Suraksha raises an amused eyebrow at the outfit, studying herself in the long mirror. She shakes her head, then swiftly finger-combs her hair so it's a darkly shimmering mane falling to just below her derriere. After that she sighs, takes a deep breath -- then opens the door and exits. She's doing the Queen's walk; Sna'tha taught her years ago to never show fear around the Unseelie.
Outside, the Queen moves over and perches on the arm of one of the chairs; Unseelie Royalty are apparently much more casual than their Seelie counterparts. "Ah. One of Titania's and Oberon's. Even better. It means my husband won't know you or your abilities." She turns her head as the closet door opens, a sheaf of hair and feathers falling over one side of her face, "Oh, lovely! I'm glad you found something that fits. Please, do join us."
Suraksha's head is high and proud, her slanted golden eyes calm and assured as she walks, swaying gracefully, across the room. She smiles and tilts her head in courtesy, "You are too kind, Lady." She seats herself in one of the chairs, crossing her legs and smiling in serene confidence at Chanticleer, "Chanti, would you be so kind as to pour some wine for us?"
Chanticleer blinks a bit; he doesn't recall Morganna having a husband, or who he might be. Of course the Seelie was more involved in the little wars within the Seelie Court, not the wars between the Courts -- which were few and far between -- and he is slightly distracted by the way Morganna is sitting, to say nothing of how he hopes his jaw has not fallen off when Suraksha steps out of the closet! He's certain Sna'tha would tan his hide for staring. He swallows almost audibly. "Ah... yes, of course, Lady," he says with a faintly shaky voice. He manages to pour the wine glasses with a steady hand. Mostly.
Morganna has her glass already and takes a sip from it as Chanticleer pours for himself and Suraksha. The long skirt of her gown falls in such a way as to leave her left leg almost completely bare and she bounces her foot slightly. Suraksha also absently sways one high-heeled foot, where her leg is crossed over the other, as she watches Chanticleer and Morganna. She smiles her thanks to her old friend as she accepts the wine glass and has a sip. She sighs softly, her eyes half closed -- Morganna does keep an excellent wine cellar. However, there's still one small issue to deal with. She sets the delicate goblet to one side and smiles faintly, tilting her head in inquiry to the Unseelie Queen, "So, Lady: it would be discourteous to waste your time;" [and terminal, as well,] she thinks amusedly, adding, "how might we be of assistance?"
"I had a proposition for the White Dagger and her godsdaughter, but now I find myself with a Seelie warrior and not enough time to send Jongleur back for Sna'thaid." Morganna smiles again, plum-colored lips parting from sharp white teeth, "I am in need of protection for someone -- protection my husband does not know and holds no sway over. Guaire and I have not been wed long by fae standards; scarcely a decade here. It would be much less on the other side. We have an understanding. He doesn't interfere with my amusements and I don't interfere with his as long as he is discreet."
Suraksha nods thoughtfully, her slender fingers intertwined under her chin as she listens. She knows from Sna'thaid to keep her mouth shut and let the fae talk, after all -- because there'll always be some catch to watch out for. Morganna continues: "Recently I have had a companion I am quite fond of. He's a young thing and impetuous. Lovely, though, and devoted." Morganna's smile actually reaches her eyes as she speaks of Nuadha, "I am afraid Guaire has become rather jealous; he tried to get me to prove my love for him by demanding my little pet. Of course I said no."
Suraksha carefully does not raise an eyebrow, although she does cover a small smile. Infidelity doesn't mean the same thing to immortals as it does to humans, after all. She can see why Guaire is jealous, though -- it appears the Unseelie Queen actually cares about her little... friend, as opposed to what Suraksha would guess was a political alliance with Guaire.
Chanticleer remains quiet as he sips the wine. The longevity of Titania's and Oberon's marriage is literally legendary... as are the frequently violent arguments they have. The last one involved half a hundred knights on each side, several weeks of chaotic weather patterns, a re-arranging of the entire physical layout of the court, and an extended family of platypi. Somehow Morganna's marital arrangements seem relatively sedate, and to make for both more sense and less gossip... at least, gossip that lets one live. The Seelie court thrived on gossip in comparison.
That the Unseelie court is also more lethal is not lost on him. Chanti is both intrigued and cautious. First, one does not deny fey royalty anything they wish, whether they are Seelie or Unseelie; they like to give the illusion of a choice to people they approach. Second, the best way to avoid entanglements is not to get entangled at all -- and this would put them in direct conflict with King Guaire. Chanti doesn't like that idea; fey have very long memories if they want to.
Morganna sighs, "He pouted, of course, and sulked. Usually I find his pouting rather endearing, but Nuadha is mine and I do not easily give up what is mine." She stands and begins to pace as she talks, showing perhaps more agitation than she realizes, "After a while he seemed to give up on the notion, and I let it pass. It is not the first time we have been at cross-purposes, nor the most spectacular. Unfortunately I may have underestimated his jealousy this time."
Suraksha tilts her head in silent inquiry, in case the queen glances her way. She's already calculating furiously in her head, trying to make sure she and Chanti get out of this alive -- hale, and hearty. She's always been here previously with Sna'tha, as the White Dagger's godsdaughter. This time is more terrifying, in some ways: Chanti's potentially depending on her to get them both out, and Sna'tha will not deal well with Suraksha messing things up here. Determinedly the young woman reminds herself: she will not fail! She'll do her absolute best for her caravan family.
Her expression doesn't change in the least, however: a cool, faintly interested smile as she continues lazily swaying the high-heel-shod foot of her crossed leg. Chanticleer glances to Suraksha; he's not sure if the bland smile she is giving is concealing any worry or nervousness. What he does know, however, is fairly simple: Don't piss off fae royalty. Corollary: Don't be anywhere near fey royalty. The rule and the corollary tend to not merely conflict, however; quite often they wage all-out war.
The pacing queen's heels clack rhythmically on the stone floor, "Guaire ceased to dun me about giving him my pet as a sign of my love. Instead, he went straight to Nuadha and proposed a wager." She pauses in her pacing and says, "Chanticleer may be aware games of chance are quite tempting to such as the fae. When you are as long-lived as we, one begins to look for things to make the years interesting."
Suraksha's faint smile quirks a bit at that; she's quite aware of that particular... affectation of the various immortals she knows. She suspects, in fact, one of the reasons Sna'tha has lasted as long as she has with the caravan is due to its ever-changing nature. "Is Nuadha sidhe, Lady?"
Morganna shakes her head, "No. Nuadha is an air creature. Humans might mistake him for an angel due to the wings. They simply call themselves flyers. Weather control is their purview: rain, winds. Anything which can come out of the sky. My pet's particular talent is with snow." Suraksha nods silently, continuing to listen. She's faintly amused again -- didn't take long for the actual relationship to reveal itself. She hopes Morganna's 'pet' survives long enough to wise up... and she makes a small mental note: never let anyone endanger her dependents!
Morganna says, "Guaire proposed a truce to Nuadha and the two of them had several drinks together. Sadly for my Nuadha, he does not hold his wine as well as does my husband. Guaire offered a wager and Nuadha agreed." She seems reluctant to get to the meat of things, as if she's still considering how much to reveal.
Chanticleer thinks he sees where this is going; unfortunately it does not look good for them. Fey wagers tend to be dramatic. Suraksha murmurs quietly, "As I recall, my godsmother is stringently adamant about hearing all the... particulars of the jobs she takes on, with the caveat that discovering something critical has been withheld from her negates the agreement, with no future repercussions allowed." She has a sip of wine, then smiles blandly as she runs a slender fingertip along the edge of the crystal goblet and adds, "It has been my habit to follow my godsmother's teachings in such things."
Morganna seems to decide finally to trust them, "Nuadha is quite proud of his abilities. When Guaire offered a test of them, Nuadha could not refuse." She purses her lips, considering, "Actually, he could have, but he did not. Guaire has called up a spirit of night -- one of the nightmares, actually -- to pursue Nuadha. Nuadha has to evade the creature for one full cycle of the moon. If he is caught, he loses the wager and most likely his life; the nightmares are not known for their gentle nature. If he manages to stay free, Guaire will reward Nuadha handsomely."
Suraksha frowns at that; she does not care for terrorizing those weaker than oneself, and she's quietly relieved most of her few beloveds and dependents are relatively powerful. She reviews mentally, trying to pull up what she knows of nightmares as she continues listening. "Was that the exact wording of the wager, Lady? Or is this simply what Nuadha related to you later?"
Morganna's eyes are beginning to flash, "I cannot interfere directly, of course. The wager is between the two of them and intervening directly would cause a forfeit." She smiles tightly at Suraksha, "Forfeits are quite serious in my Court. They often cause loss of life. It is what Nuadha told me later and what Guaire bragged of. He is quite smug that he has at least deprived me of my favorite for a month at the least."
Suraksha nods silently, her golden-eyed gaze narrowing in thought. The Lady herself will deal with Guaire, Suraksha does not doubt. That does not mean, however, that Guaire does not have spies in the Lady's train -- and might also interfere with this lethal wager. She looks up at the Queen again, "How might we be of assistance, Lady, without incurring a forfeit?" She clearly remembers Sna'thaid lecturing her: 'Never offer! Let them ask you first.'
The Queen smirks a little, "I would not expect you to enter into contract with me without asking particulars, of course. What I want is for Nuadha to survive the month. There are strictures, of course. Nuadha cannot leave the bounds of Faerie to escape the nightmare, nor may he slay it -- he must evade it. I want the two of you to make it exceedingly difficult for the nightmare to reach him. You cannot assist Nuadha directly. If you manage to help keep him alive for the full month, moon to moon, I will grant you each a boon and a rich reward. Very quietly, of course. I sent Jongleur because it is a simple creature and not involved in the politics of the Court."
Suraksha smiles at memory of Jongleur, then turns her attention to details. "May we slay the nightmare? Should your pet, for example, duck behind us, would that be considered assisting him directly, or self defense? Will Nuadha know of us? Have you a painting or scrying of him? Does Guaire know of us?" She pauses there and has another sip of wine.
"I sent for the White Dagger and her godsdaughter because Sna'thaid's talents are well known. I find the idea of a Seelie warrior helping amuses more, however, and could throw Guaire further off the scent." Morganna drains her glass and holds it out to Chanticleer, "Another, if you please." To Suraksha's question she says, "No. He does not -- and I prefer it stay that way. He will be causing enough mischief as it is." Morganna adds, "Giving him shelter would constitute helping him directly. As for slaying the nightmare... I would truly prefer you did not. It is simply doing as it is bound. Guaire only has command of it between this moon and the next. I can show you Nuadha's face, of course. I would be a poor Queen could I not."
Suraksha absently rubs the ball of her thumb over her lower lip, considering carefully. The nightmare is bound... not a friend or liege of Guaire. That could prove to be a very small bit of assistance if it is sapient -- few entities she knows like being summoned and bound for a bet -- and if they can find it before it finds Nuadha. Slowly the supernatural murmurs, "If Chanticleer or I come to any harm... as with my godsmother, healing is part of the contract, yes? Have you a way we might be able to locate Nuadha? When precisely does this wager begin, please?"
Morganna nods, "Healing to the best of my abilities. It begins at midnight." According to the clock on her mantelpiece it is half past eleven now. She uses her refilled glass of wine to conjure the flyer's face for them. It is a lovely one: pale blue eyes and white-blonde hair around tanned skin. She also gives them directions to where they will find Nuadha at the start of the wager. After that, they will have to track him.
Suraksha says, "And the nightmare? Where will it be at that time, please?"
Morganna says, "That I cannot tell you, for I do not know."
Suraksha nods slowly, still considering. "Can Guaire do tracking magics? It's a good bet he was able to retrieve a bit of hair or a feather from Nuadha while the little flyer was... inebriated, after all."
Morganna says, "Guaire is no tracker. But the nightmare may have a hair or other way to track my pet."
Chanticleer remains studiously quiet. He is only barely familiar with the foibles and stratagems of Seelie royalty, and the Unseelie Court is an altogether different matter. If it was up to him he would try to flee... but all that he can do when confronted with the Unseelie Queen is, well, do as she requests. He goes through the plan in his head quickly. "Is that a month in the human world, or a month in fey?"
"In Faerie. You will return to your caravan in the night on which you left it."
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