| Logs |
2011 May 30
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
Black Queen Checkmate on Red King
Suraksha thinks a moment... then warily reloads her crossbow. She'd rather not have to shoot anyone, but she's going to be adamant about no one approaching until they've proven their identity. Sura and Chanti are close enough now to both success, and saving Nuadha and the mara, that the tiger-woman does not want a stupid bit of glamour to ruin everything. It is a long, tense time waiting for anyone to arrive. While they wait, the mara moans and keens its pain and its pleas to be allowed to continue on its hunt.
Suraksha gently runs her free hand over the mara, trying to soothe the poor thing. She's still perplexed at the entire concept of maras as having gender. Do they somehow breed, or what? She shudders amusedly at that thought, fiercely focusing on keeping alert again. Chanticleer too remains alert and aware, his bow at the ready. He's a bit more sure now, but those werewolves may try to overtake them... or try to send word ahead -- and there might be more serpent-kittens.
Just when it's getting to the point that there is a real worry Morganna isn't coming, there's a shift in the texture of the shadows around them. The darkness is almost tangible, and the sensation of it is heavy black velvet against the face. Suraksha warily brings up the crossbow, hissing softly to her mount, "Get ready to leap if it's not Morganna, Triumph!"
It's quite impossible to tell whence she came, but between one breath and the next Morganna is standing with them. She's wrapped in a heavy cloak with a deep cowl-like hood that shadows her pale face except for her mouth. The full lips are set in a stern, unhappy line. Chanticleer tenses, seeing the shadows solidify. The sensation of velvet is rather nice and sensual, which is why he suspects it is Morganna, but one can't be certain. Suraksha lets her breath out and slowly lowers the crossbow a bit, murmuring, "Your majesty?" She searches visually for the raven, for confirmation of the identity of the person before them... and she checks for the entity's chakras as well, as she adds, "Pardon our paranoia, please, but if Guaire's people are willing to attack even the ravens of Morganna..." She lets her voice trail off, leaving the possible dire results to the imagination.
The scan of her chakras indicates the figure is indeed Morganna; it also indicates she is beyond angry. Pale, bejeweled hands come up and lift the hood back and off, revealing her snapping eyes, "My little messenger tells me others of my ravens were injured. The one you brought is the only one to return. I find myself forced to consider the idea that my husband has gone beyond jealousy into treachery."
Suraksha blinks -- then her expression falls into genuine grief for the poor ravens, "Oh, no... surely not all of them? I am so sorry." She un-nocks her crossbow, adding quietly, "We have brought you the mara, alive and bound. We dared not stay and wait for you to arrive, once the howling started. It seems that was a wise choice on our part." Chanticleer frowns. He inwardly doesn't like that the ravens were hurt; it's like some sort of kin were harmed, even if they are ravens and he is more black rooster. Even the raven who was pecked by his aetheric rider certainly didn't deserve harm more than a peck. Suraksha adds gently, "If you wish, we will give you the mara, then depart to go speak with your people. We do not wish to add to your current... troubles."
Morganna's eyes are hard, like onyx or obsidian in her lovely face. Her feather-strewn hair is flying loose around her face, "It was wise of you to move on. My injured emissary tells me you heard howling. He was not sure if they were wargs or werewolves or just simply a pack that is under Guaire's control."
Chanticleer grimaces. He hadn't even thought they'd be wargs. Suraksha nods silently, swiftly unstrapping herself. She's nude but for the cloak, but at this point she's not concerned about that so much as about not peeving off their employer! She murmurs softly to Chanti, "Hop down, dear. Grab our packs, please?" Chanticleer nods to Suraksha, dismounting from the gryphons and taking up both their packs.
The Queen of Air and Darkness is not pacing and her eyes have fallen on the bound mara, "This is the creature my husband set on Nuadha? I am surprised you entrapped it so easily." The mara is still whimpering and trembling as if in great pain. Its eyes search out Morganna's face and it pleads, "Please, great lady, let me go! I must hunt... mussssst...."
Suraksha pats the bound mara gently as she unstraps it and carefully sets it down next to her feet, then says to the gryphons, "Triumph, Horus, would you two be so kind as to return to the stables, please?"
Morganna holds up her hand to the gryphons, "No. Wait here for now."
Suraksha shakes her head at Morganna, "We think this is it. It was follo-" She blinks, straightening as Morganna countermands the request to the gryphons... then simply waits silently to see what's up. Chanticleer tilts his head to the side, frowning. [She suspects there's more going on than just the mara. Trapping it won't stop this, she thinks?]
Morganna steps over to the mara and shushes it softly, as a mother would shush a fretting babe. One hand passes over the mara's face, twisted as it is in pain, and she murmurs a few words that sound almost Latin -- almost. The mara's already-weak struggles cease and the creature goes limp. The Unseelie queen says, "Unwrap it from the dreamcatchers."
Chanticleer glances to Suraksha and begins to unwrap the mara from the nets; he would like Suraksha to be free and clear if something happens. Suraksha steps back a bit so she's not in Chanti's way. She looks concerned, "Lady, are you saying this is a... a decoy mara, so to speak?" Her eyes narrow as she considers that... then she starts to look distinctly annoyed.
Morganna crouches by the mara once the nets are loose, managing to make the position look graceful and almost predatory. "Stay still," she orders the mara, which does not dare move even once it is unbound. The Unseelie queen's eyes are narrowed as she takes the mara's face between her hands, breathing slow and deep as she forces it to meet her eyes. Long moments pass while neither the nightmare nor the queen so much as twitch. Suraksha quietly checks the mara's chakras as well, so she'll recognize this female again if necessary. Growing inside her, though, is a slow-building fury. Was she that easily fooled?! No wonder the damn thing didn't make sense! But if 'the' mara is not this one... then where did the 'correct' mara go?! It had to start tracking from where they were, after all!
Chanticleer watches with his breath almost held, though caution makes him glance around every once in a while. [Oh, damn. A decoy? Well... Guaire seems to have called out a veritable army. How many werewolves, assassins, serpent-kittens, and the like were we running into?]
Morganna finally blinks and lets the mara's head drop to the ground. She snarls in a very unladylike fashion and rises to her feet, "This is the only one Guaire has bound to follow my Nuadha. But his binding has nearly broken her." Her gaze falls on Suraksha, "Dress yourself. You will both come with me." Her gaze down at the nightmare is pitying, "I will send a chirugeon to this one."
Chanticleer frowns. This is getting confusing. He hefts the packs, and moves with Suraksha; she sighs in relief, relaxing -- then nods briskly to the queen, "Thank you, Lady, for taking care of the poor mara." She smiles a touch tightly at Chanticleer, striding next to him and hastily yanking some articles of clothing from the pack he's carrying, as they follow Morganna. She calls back to the gryphons, "Thank you!" as she yanks on breeches, and adds to the angry queen, "Majesty, may the gryphons return to their barn now, an' it pleases you?"
Morganna doesn't turn her head, "Yes. They may. I thought I might send you back out ere dawn, but I think now there is more afoot here."
Suraksha nods and waves a hand to the gryphons, encouraging them to go get a nice hot meal; they deserve it, after all their efforts! She gives Chanticleer a raised eyebrow -- sort of a perplexed and amused 'well isn't this interesting in a terrifying sense?!'-- expression, and continues to hastily yank on tunic and boots as she sticks close to the longer-legged sidhe. She can straighten her clothes and look more dignified later; no sense in annoying Morganna further, after all. The smaller woman wonders, though: send them back out where? What does Morganna have in mind?
Chanticleer grimaces, looking a little worn and tired, as if saying, 'Of course it's not simple. With the fey, nothing ever is. The thing that will drive you to drink, however, is that after all this death and destruction and frustration, they'll be back to the way things were in but a year.' Suraksha has to cover a grin at that! She pats Chanticleer's arm in commiseration, then takes her pack from him and slings it over a shoulder -- it wouldn't be fair to ask him to carry the extra weight.
Morganna leads them into the palace and through a maze of corridors which look like they came from several different dwellings. Bleak gray stone is intermixed with hallways of polished hardwood or elaborate wallpaper. There are even passages painted with fantastic murals. All these styles bump against one another without any rhyme or reason, and Morganna seems to take no notice of the myriad changes to their surroundings. Suraksha studies the terrain in silent fascination, wondering where they're being taken. Eventually they come to a heavy oaken doorway wide enough for one of the caravan's wagons. It swings open before the Unseelie queen touches it, hitting the wall behind it with a resounding boom.
Beyond the door is a throne room. The floor, where it is not covered by sumptuous carpets, is an intricate and gorgeous parquet mosaic. Though it is just before dawn, the room has several occupants. The clothing ranges from strategic and eye-catching strips of silk and leather to full-length ball gowns over layers of crinoline. Suraksha sighs internally, carefully not rolling her eyes -- she'd have simply loved a few seconds to tidy up, darnit! Since she can't do that, she simply calls on her Hetaera training: she straightens a bit and raises her chin with pride, and strides along with absolute confidence next to the queen. Chanticleer looks around in some fascination at the courtiers and what they're wearing. Inwardly, though, he has to say Suraksha's poise overshadows the others'.
At the end of the room opposite the enormous door is a dais of five steps that raises a pair of thrones well above the main floor. One is obviously Morganna's, made of black and purple stones with a wonderfully decadent-looking nest of cushions and furs for the queen to sprawl in. The other is quite a bit smaller, but still impressive. The wood is darkly lacquered with the gleam of several precious stones in settings along the back and in the arms and legs. In this throne, looking as dissipated as is possible in such surroundings, is a sidhe male dressed in royal blue and purple with accents of scarlet that pick up the glints in his almost ruby-red hair.
Suraksha swiftly flips up her hood so her face is obscured, whispering to Chanticleer that he should do likewise. She keeps her hands under her cloak, obscuring as much of herself as she can. She doesn't want to give any clues to Guaire as to who thwarted his plans. Chanti nods quickly, flipping up his hood; if anything, he's definitely even more eager to avoid questions. He has very little doubt if anyone could find out what truly happened on that day at the Battle of Glenmorrigan, it would be Guaire. Suraksha also subtly and gradually slows her walk, keeping Chanticleer close to her if she can, so they can stop next to (hopefully somewhat obscured by) any of the other courtiers -- rather than walking up where Guaire can study them clearly.
Guaire's head comes up at the sound of the door and he stands up, smiling and holding his hands out as if he's truly glad to see Morganna, "Darling! I had thought you'd left us for the night!" The queen herself strides down the middle of the room, not looking to see anyone is going to give ground; the small crowd of courtiers melts out of her way. Her heels hitting the floor sound awfully like the crack of doom. "Don't you darling me, you pompous, high-handed, jealous quisling!" Her voice carries that same note of danger as she climbs up the dais. Suraksha immediately scans Guaire's chakras -- she's extremely curious as to whether he'll try lying to Morganna! She can't help a small, frustrated hiss, though, as one of the courtiers backing away steps directly in front of her. Still, this is perfect camouflage... she'll try a better peek at Guaire's chakras in a few minutes.
Guaire's expression is mild, almost amused, as if he wants people to think Morganna is simply having a snit of some sort, "Come, my love, sure I have done nothing to be accused of treachery? I know you are unhappy with my bet with the flyer, but it is hardly treason." His tone of voice is coaxing and somewhat unctuous; his manner is of someone who has had to talk his lover down out of anger before. Suraksha eyes Morganna warily, guessing this approach by Guaire is not going to win him any bennies with her just now! The tiger-woman quietly hopes Morganna has already thought to send someone out to tell poor Nuadha the bet is off, too... or is going to do so soon.
Morganna puts a hand in the middle of Guaire's chest and shoves strongly; the much-larger male grunts and sits down hard in his chair. Morganna leans over until her nose is just inches from his and says, "Your minions have slaughtered my ravens, sweetheart," somehow she makes that term of endearment sound like the foulest curse, "and I say that is the same as you doing so." The whole room, which was fluttering with whispers before, has gone as silent as the oldest and deepest of tombs.
Suraksha winces at that, sending a small and grieving prayer of release to the souls of the poor ravens. She'd been hoping against hope that Guaire's people were smart enough to simply capture the ravens -- even though experience was telling her otherwise, and the one that did manage to return had been shot. She desperately hopes innocent little Jongleur is safely out of the way too.
Guaire's eyes are flaring with anger now. He surges to his feet, bringing him several inches taller than Morganna. The queen's husband clearly intends to use those inches to some sort of advantage, but there is something far too regal in Morganna's bearing to be backed down simply by a tall man. She does not take a step back; she gives no ground at all -- and Guaire finds his balance is off as he tries to loom over his queen. "They are but birds, darling." His voice is flat, without the coaxing tones of before.
Suraksha draws in her breath with a sharp hiss of anger -- as a shapeshifter herself, the thought of treating any animal that... that brutally and casually truly raises her ire! She is not surprised to note Guaire is not one of the bird sidhe. She realizes, with grim amusement, she needn't check to see if Guaire is lying -- he's actually effectively admitted to his treason! She rests one hand on Chanticleer's arm in silent sympathy. Morganna tosses her head and says, "They were my ravens, Guaire -- and you will pay for their slaughter. Guards!" From around the room a handful of armored courtiers step forward, bearing the only weapons in the room.
Chanticleer keeps any sort of emotion from his expression as he listens to the interchange between Guaire and Morganna. This is a confrontation which, he suspects, is repeated often. When Guaire says the ravens are 'but birds,' though, his teeth grind a little. But he forgets that when Morganna calls the guards. [This,] he thinks, [is not something often done!]
Guaire smirks and raises his voice to the guards, "Stand down, men. This is a matter between man and wife." He manages to make it sound ridiculous and trivial -- and that causes a flash of the purest anger either of the visitors has ever seen to show on Morganna's face. The fact that the guards do hesitate stirs the rage even further; she thunders, "You do not order my bodyguard, Guaire." The vacillating guards start forward again as she adds, "In fact, from now on you order nothing." She turns her back on her husband and steps toward the larger throne.
Suraksha slowly and surreptitiously palms one of her throwing daggers as she intently watches Guaire. Chanticleer hesitates for a moment. To draw a blade of the Seelie court here... well, he's pretty sure it probably won't go over too well. Guaire is so far out of his league, though... the Seelie sidhe resolves to remain close by Suraksha, murmuring softly to her, "Orders, Lady?"
Suraksha whispers under her breath to Chanti, "Watch the others. I have Guaire." Her throwing dagger is steel; she knows that will stop him if the treasonous sidhe is actually foolish enough to try anything. She will absolutely not ask Chanticleer to fire on sidhe royalty, though; she knows he might want to return someday. But to shoot a treasonous courtier? That, she suspects, is acceptable. She casually shifts so she has clear line of sight to Guaire, then simply waits to see what he does. Chanticleer nods imperceptibly to Suraksha, holding himself ready as he watches.
Guaire's face contorts in a grotesque mask of humiliation and fury. He snarls, one hand reaching out to grab the moving queen, "I am your husband, woman; you will not turn your back on me!" He grips Morganna's arm and jerks as if to turn her around. Suraksha smoothly and instantly lets fly with her dagger, aiming at Guaire's center of mass. She's guessing if Morganna reacts, it will be to strike at his face, after all -- so this should be safest. Plus he's most likely to survive a hit there... rather than in, say, his face or hand. Morganna does indeed whirl around, one hand raised and the fingers curled into claws; the sound she makes is more like a screeching caw than anything else.
In the space of a mere heartbeat the Unseelie king lays his hands on the queen in danger, she whirls to strike him -- and Guaire slumps suddenly to the ground, groping at the dagger protruding from his abdomen. All around are gasps and cries of surprise and panic. Several of the courtiers flee the throne room altogether and the guards rush the dais. Suraksha steps forward boldly, another dagger ready -- she knows Chanticleer will cover her back -- and calls to the queen, "Your majesty, it is steel. May I approach to reclaim it?" Chanticleer whirls to keep his back to Suraksha's, his hand hovering over the hilt to his sword. He's attempting to strongly suggest with his body language that nobody dare approach.
Morganna steps back from her fallen husband. The expression on her face is one of irritation and disgust rather than horror, "Yes, please; come take back your blade." Guaire is gasping, all color having fled his face; it leaves his hair looking positively shocking scarlet.
Suraksha nods and bows courteously to the queen, tucking away her dagger, "Thank you, your majesty." She strides swiftly forward, checking to hear Chanticleer is walking smoothly with her and pulling on her gloves as she does so -- she wants to be sure there's no part of her the (probably furious) sidhe king can touch, for later tracking. She will approach the wounded man from behind as well, so she can reach over him with a swift, sure move to draw the dagger free before stepping immediately back and away from him.
Guaire is in obvious agony, but when Suraksha reaches over him he grabs her wrist in a grip that is painful in its intensity. He snarls, "I will kill you for this!" and starts to pull her over his body so she'll be in front of him. Suraksha calmly twists her wrist to free herself, and brings the edge of her other hand down in a sharp chop along the edge of his neck. Chanticleer glances back when he hears Guaire snark, drawing his saber three inches before he sees Suraksha has it well in hand and won't be harmed by the injured Unseelie lord. He relaxes a little, and looks back into the court, scanning for any courtiers -- or guards -- who might want to come to the aid of the felled king.
The guards reach the dais seconds after Suraksha's blow knocks the dishonored king silly for a heartbeat or two. Guaire is dragged away, limp and bleeding from the knife-wound, and with his heels dragging along the floor. Morganna gives an order for his blood to be cleaned up immediately, "I want no trace of him remaining in this throne room or in my chambers." The queen settles herself into her wide and be-cushioned throne, looking far more at ease than seems possible, given recent events. The next order she gives is for Nuadha to be found and brought back to the palace. Finally her eyes fall on Chanticleer and Suraksha.
Suraksha steps back immediately once she's retrieved her little blade, using a hankie to wipe it clean before she tucks it away again. She makes sure she and Chanti are off the dais as soon as possible! Chanticleer would actually at this point very much prefer to disappear and be forgotten by Morganna right away. Sura keeps quiet and remains completely cloaked; Guaire may still have friends in this court, after all. She's quietly relieved Nuadha is to be swiftly rescued from his current dilemma, and she hopes poor little Sova was also safely retrieved.
Morganna's voice is devoid of inflection as she says, "I owe the pair of you a debt of gratitude, it would seem. I would offer you the hospitality of my court to rest, but it is not likely to be restful for some time yet. Instead I will send you home, and send my messenger with your reward in some little time."
Suraksha nods silently at that; she's quite happy to get them both out as soon as possible! While she'd love to be friends with several of the entities she met at Morganna's palace, she's equally uninterested in being more tangled up in court politics. She bows politely and murmurs, "Your majesty is kind." Chanticleer also bows his head politely, letting Suraksha speak for them both. Yes, the less time spent in the Unseelie court the better -- he'd rather not get any of the politics on him. On the other hand, who can say they've ever been present at such a major change of the power dynamic in one of the Courts?
Morganna nods and motions someone out of the crowd. The someone is slender with skin the color of desert sand and eyes that are quite golden. "My friend here will see you back to the door through which you came."
Suraksha bows again to the queen, then nods to the entity, "Lead the way, please." Chanticleer remains quiet and tense, though he does remember to sheathe his sword fully once things have calmed down. He does not like the idea of the Unseelie Court owing him a boon or a debt or anything like that, though admittedly some sort of compensation for the stark screaming terror they went through would be nice. He hopes they can keep any strings from being attached to it, though. Suraksha wonders how this will shake down. Will Morganna be unhappy that she has her flyer but not her husband, or will Guaire's treason have burned off any good feelings Morganna once had for him? For the sake of the caravan's safety, Sura hopes it's very much the latter. She's going to have to debrief immediately with Chanticleer to her godsmother, so they can take whatever steps would be wisest for the continuing well-being of them all. She flashes a small smile up at her taller sidhe companion as they walk away -- however things turn out in the end, she thinks they both did a superlative job!
[Previous Log] [Index] [Next Log]