up 51 oval window V'Dub pulled to the curb outside a brownstone near Greenwich
Village. A slender young woman of perhaps 16 climbed out dressed in retro
60s fashion, lace trimmed bell -bottoms dragging the ground over leather
sandles , Her blonde hair cropped in a modernized bob.
Giggles and squeals of a small child's delight peeled out from a balcony across the avenue. The toddler could see what grown-ups couldn't.... A five -foot tall white rabbit Pooka with a platinum bob do. Sunglasses making her ears lay all funny. Dressed Fiona's livery in a tunnic of crimson emblazoned with a great silver lion.The Pooka glanced up at the child twitching her whiskers and waving. Watching till the child's mother pulled him into the safety of the apartment.
The chimerically enhanced V-Dub lights winked at the child making him giggle all the more as his mother chided him for being on the balcony.
The Pooka checked scroll then the address making certain before climbing the stairs to the door. The last of the suns rays making the beveled glass door turn to molten silver. Taking a deep breath she knocked and waited. She didn't enjoy playing messinger to the high ranking Sidhe of Gwydion. They seem to think they were all that and a bag of chips. Wrinkling her nose as she tapped upon the door.
The door opened slowly. His pale skin stretched tauntly over the finely chiseled features and well muscled frame. Sidhe glory masked in undeath. This was a high lord? She thought. Criiiiimeny. He looked like death warmed over. She twitched her whiskers at the banal scent. By the gods he smelled like it too.
The Pooka backed away a bit before saying. High Lord Raevnell Darque... She enunciated her words carefully in the manner of a royal herald. You are summoned to the Court at Caer Palisades to an audience with Queen Mab. while handing him the scroll. Her Majesty sent a special message, saying you would understand.
His steady gaze silenced the pooka for a moment with a wave of his hand Raevnell transformed from *Kindred* to Sidhe in seconds. His appearace taking on supernatural luminance. Do go on. His silky smooth voice encouraged the Pooka. As if breaking a trance the pooka spoke. Scathach's bard is found. Raevnell froze. His shocked expression lasted for seconds, then became inscrutable.
Let's leave for Court now. He said. quickly concealing his matching swords beneath the chimerical cloak. To the unseeing mortal world... he just seemed another Goth -black trench coat and all as he climbed into the neon green bug......
Two hours later the Volkswagon bounced down the gravel road that wound its way through thick stands of trees and lush gardens tangled with weeds to a condemned Lloyd Wright Mansion. With Fae sight it was a splendid palace with manicured gardens and bubbling fountains. Caer Palisades. The herald led Raevnell through a maze of hallways to a small opulent sitting room and bid him wait.
Her presence announced itself before Queen Mab entered the room, He rose and bowed with polished skill. None of that! She quietly commanded. Sit with me awhile, we've much to discuss. Taking his hands in hers, leading him to a pair of comfortable chairs. Mab inquired of his journies into the Dreaming. The affairs of the Knights of the Cold Watch. Listening attentively to the Dark Falcon.
Mab chuckled knowing he had reached his limits of patience. She enjoyed every minute of testing his mettle ... Slowly she came to the purpose of the meeting. The amulet works well "Saint" Darque ? You have succeeded in deceiving the Kindred. She smiled. You will have to do so a while longer... His eyes searched hers... holding his breath for a moment and closing his eyes when she said, Kidwyn has been found. She studied his reactions carefully. She has been embraced by Lord Alexander Gilland.
Raevnells fine features darkened with anger as the Queen continued... Lord Alexander groomed Kydwyn from early childhood. She accepted the dark gift as near as we can tell in November of 1996. Lord Gilland has his network watching over *his*prodigy carefully. He listened attentively, stroking his van dyke beard as Mab spoke.
The old ways and sorceries of the Danann may be locked inside Kydwyn's memories. It is those memories we desire. It is my will that she be returned to the Sidhe. Mab's wise eyes and somber expression met Raevnell's again. Soon Lord Raven. If your Lady remains a daughter of Lillith much longer, there will be no hope of awakening her fae soul.
Raevnell glanced up a violet storm in his obsidian eyes How will this Kindred Lord be dealt with ? The Queen pondered for a moment... Lord Alexander was once one of us...thought by some to have sold the secret of cold iron to the Milesians. Some believe he is a traitor far worse than The Ari Ri Falchion. Others believe he was innocent. Mab pauses again...her silvery blue hair refracting light... still a remarkably beautiful woman at 70, pearl fair in visage.
She spoke again, slowly. If Kydwyn is returned there will be no retribution from the court of Apples. I will attempt to influence the Ard Ri in Lord Gilland's favor. The last thing the Fae need is to be drawn into the Jyhads of the Kindred.
Who do you trust in this venture ? Mab asks then rises, turns and closes the doors giving the guards instructions that they are not to be disturbed.
A few nights later under the cover of the new moon, he watched a golden red head worked awe over the crowd at a meeting of Friends of Sein Fien to the advantage of the charity event. Their gazes locked from across the room. She looked away, blush coloring her pale cheeks.
As soon as there was opportunity she seached for him beneath a veil of golden lashes. They teased each other all evening with playful glances. Kydwyn was enjoying the game as much as Raevnell.
He approached her first under a guise of Morgan Donnally requesting she meet with *his* employer reguarding a private donation. To his astonishment Kydwyn agreed to the meeting at small coffee shop near the villiage. The game was afoot.
Raevnell arrived before her keeping to the shadows, watching her arrival. Noting the book ""Yarrow"" by Charles DeLint- Morgan suggested so his *Boss* would know her. Kydwyn moved thru the lil coffee shop her fae shapped eyes wide with curiousity. He smiled with the thought she was yet unused to vampiric sight.
He rose from the chair, motioning to her. Kydwyn approached the *Elder of Clan Ventrue* cautiously. Good eve Mi 'l... Mr. Darque.? The wide eyed chylde of the shadows met his gaze equally. His senses picked up the quickly hidden scent of fear as he kissed her delicate hand, then looking up into her hypnotic eyes. It was his lady he thought. How was it she did not recognize him? A slow sly smile spread. Soon she would. He plot his next actions as they spoke about the needs of the organization. The two talked long into the night...
four poster bed stands in the center of a Victorian room, the windows and
French doors draped in heavy black velvet. Antiques of rosewood rest upon
plush Turkish carpet of crimson bordered by the fruit wood floor. A white
wolf lays at the foot of the bed softly whining, pawing at the dreamer swathed
in black silk, golden red hair now dark burnished copper dampened with blood
sweat clinging around a heart shaped face. The dreamer cries out unable
to awaken from the recurring daymare besieging her mind. Sia lowers lays
her head near her feet refusing to be driven away.
James pulls Kydwyn, his soft baritone voice pleading Lets away from this place . Kyd stands transfixed by the image of her Da in the window of a burning mansion. Surreal in its setting. His eyes filled with terror as the fire consumes him. Screams echo through corridors of twisted memories. She awakens, finding her limbs bound every part of her body feeling bruised. Someone is holding her up his fingernails digging into her cheek bones forcing her to look on as Brennan is tortured. The room darkens, she hears her own voice. Brennan...........Brennan where are you? Images of what once was a man suspended from a cross beam by his ankles. The foul odors of death sickening her
The scenes changing in seconds Kydwyn what hae you done Lass ? James speaks to her then his dismembered body ignites into orange red flames. Black smoke rising to the midnight blue sky, the sound of water lapping at the pier pilings. She looks down her hands dripping with blood. Her mouth opening in a soundless scream as a Katana flashes through the starless night sky. She cannot see the intended victim nor the wielder of the blade. Was this what Ember had seen? Was this her own final death? Kydwyn's muffled cries distressing the loyal ghoul at her feet. Sia creeps up to Kydwyn's face licking her cheek to no avail.
Ripples like the heat from the pavement in a heatwave fill the western corner of the room as Raevnell Aubergin Darque appears. Low warning growls emanate from the head of the bed Sia moving to lay across the dreamer continuing to voice the warning steadfastly resting her head upon her paws, eyebrows moving up and down with the movement of blue gray eyes.
Aubergin rests against the post of the bed his appearance as unearthly beautiful as the dreamer, his finely etched features solemn with concern for the sight before him. Sia falls silent. He moves to Kydwyn's side taking her slender hand he fastens a delicate silver bracelet infused with his glamour around her wrist, enchantment spreading to the dreamer. The daymares fade as she sinks into deep rest. Aubergin moves back into the shadows of the room.
At Sunset he draws near the bed speaking into her dreams Elentria awake. Kydwyn sits up wide awake, startled , black silk falling away from blood stained creamy flesh, pale green eyes meeting Aubergin's. Her mouth opening to call for help. Again he speaks to her mind. Elentria, if I wanted you extinguished it would already be so. I mean you or those you hold dear no harm. Holding his palms upward and away from his elegant form. His voice a whisper. Give a listen lass.
Something in his demeanor convinces her not to sound an alarm...yet. Kydwyn feels no shame in her nakedness, makes no pretense at false modesty. Do I know you ? The pupils of her great fae eyes dilated from the effects of enchantment .Aubergin was loosing himself in the depth of her pale green pools. From Sien Fein. Shaking his head to clear his mind. Morgan Donnelley at your service Miss. Kydwyn. He winx at her. We have followed you since you arrived here. The warmth and sincerity of his voice soothing her fears. Bathe yourself Kydwyn. The banality of the blood will drive me from this house of the undead.
He pulls open the heavy drapes moonlight pours through the leaded glass panes refracting into brilliant silvered rainbow colours into the room as Kydwyn slides from the bed till her feet sink into velvet softness of the crimson carpet, rising with smooth and elegant movement she strides to the bathroom to shower, soon reappearing bathed, wrapped a 30's style black satin robe, her toes peeking out from under the hem. Golden red tresses smelling of jasmine and musk stretching near to her hips.
Aubergin's violet eyes follow as she crosses the room to the chair opposite his. The robe falling away from her slender shapely legs as she seated. A languid half smile extends to light his violet orbs. Kydwyn has lost none of the awe, beauty or noble bearing that was their birthright. He appraised silently. Intelligence danced openly in her eyes , he stroked the van goh beard that sofened his face. Perhaps, Mab was correct in her assessment of the woman before him and mayhap really a hope for turning her back......
Raven black hair falls over his muscular shoulders held back from his face by slender pointed ears. Alexander would not believe her if she tried to explain his visage or presence. 'Zander did not entirely believe in the Fae 'though her blood had effected him in the embrace and he knew her true name and had used its power. Drawning on her true strength of self control to overcome the unwanted response to the enchantment forcing herself calm raising her soft melodious voice to question. Why hae you come Milord ? Aubergin sits in silence regarding her, his gaze falling over her robed form continuing the appraisal. His long delicate fingers steepled before him. To bring you home Kydwyn and restore you to your kind. Her eyes flash incandescent peridot fire at his boldness. Calmly Kydwyn responds "I asked to become Leanan Sidhe M'lor.. .
...I am Raevnell Aubergin Saint Darque, Kydwyn, of House Gwydion. He interruped. Lord Alexander was allow to condition you, to mold you without our interference. He was once Sidhe ... a long story, woman, for another day.
Heighten sense of hearing warns Kydwyn of the security personal in the hall. Putting a delicate finger to her lips in warning. Aubergin nods silently. Lady Kydwyn are you awake ? Michael's voice booms through the thick mahogany doors. Aye Michael Awake and about. She rises with sleek unearthly grace and crosses the room to the door, picking up a book of rituals from her desk placing it in the crook of her arm and sounding far more confident than she feels. Aubergin steps out of view as she opens door to the enormous Security Chief.
Is something the matter, Michael ? Her perfect features relaxed as if everything was normal and a strange man wasn't in her bedroom. Her mind racing a thousand thoughts a second. How will I explain this ? Please stay out of sight Aubergin or my decidin' will be a moot point.
Michael looks down at her Lord Gilland has asked you remain at the Manor for the next few days.
I see. Her gaze meeting Michael's hazel eyes. Because of the problem with the Garou?
You must enlighten me when you have the time Michael. I will comply with Alexander's wishes.
Very well M'lady. Michael nods to her then turns to leave if he was suspicious he certainly didn't let on. If he read her she was unaware. Closing the door what little color was in her face drains , bracing herself against the door as her knees go weak from fear. She turns meeting Aubergin's violet gaze. Kydwyn, I will return on Mid-Winters Eve . You have until then to decide.
Decide what Raevnell ? I am what I am by choice.
Tenderness softens his finely chiseled features for this kinswoman. There will be others to teach you of the Sidhe, Kydwyn. They will appear in your dreams. On Mid Winter's Eve ~ you will remember what you were.
Recalling a line from a book her Da had read to her as a wee lass, she quotes aloud
And now at last it comes. You would give me the Ring
Her piercing gaze meeting his violet pools I am not Sidhe any longer. Laughing cruely. Alexander changed me ~ forever. Her soft voice lowering turning to the low growl of a lioness I can nae go with you Raevnell, no court would accept me. Kydwyn rises regally. Spendid in fury. Her eyes flash in warning. Aubergin is on dangerous ground. Her words even and crisp. Her hands moving in gestures to emphasize and intensify her words. Those at court know to become Leanan Sidhe ,one must desire it. For that reason and that reason alone I would be an affront to the nobles of the court, fair game to their haughty judgments. I will not suffer the gossip of courtesans and those they service. Anger clearing her mind of enchantment's sweet command to pleasure.
Stirred by Kydwyn's presence and from the truth of her words born by righteous out rage at his expectations, Aubergin takes her hand in his clasping it tightly You would need to see that these things are nae so M'lady. Though you speak harshly of the Sidhe, it is true some have fallen to pettiness and the behavior of mortals...His violet gaze unbroken. As the Sun guards the Earth by day. As the stars by night so shall I serve thee. This is my duty I shall not abandon you Kydwyn 'till Endless Winter comes. Else may the stars close their eyes and sleep. I swear this oath of guardian you , my Kydwyn. His violet eyes still intent on hers. The Winter comes sooner than we wish we need to gather our people, re-claim the prodigal children of Lilith. I will return for you on Mid Winters Eve.
Releasing her hand he fades from sight the air rippling around him. Kydwyn blinks in disbelief of what she's seen and heard formulating in her mind how to explain this to Alexander feeling every bit a chylde he claimed she was. Ahh Siabhra Maith an fear e, as she absently strokes the wolf's soft fur but he will nae ken this.
Enchantment returning to its full strength increasing her perception and senses. Kid gazes into the night sky in child like wonder lost in its beauty remembering the names of the constellations, she slides down the door and sits on the balcony her arms encircling Sias neck, at peace for the moment.
(1)Quote from: JRR Tolkien Lord of The Rings -
In a journal of scarlette leather tooled with celtic designs. It's silver clasp open laying flat out on an antique rose wood desk. Kydwyn penned her thoughts...
I am both confused and curious by the appearance of Saint Darque. It was a wonderous thing to be called by my true name. To feel with all my senses fully. Taste. Touch. Sight. Smell. All intermingled each intensifying the other. Why after all these years would the Sidhe seek me out? Why now offer the ring of acceptance ? An offer to return the prodigal home. Why swear oath to an unknown?
Julia once said when the fae die they can nae return. I can nae believe I will ever be as before the embrace. I do not believe it possible. While I am curious. There has to be more to it than a simple desire to bring me back into the fold..... I am the chylde of a powerful Kindred Lord. Perhaps the Sidhe are on a campaine to rid their kingdom of the blight of Lilth once more. Tapping the pen to her pale rose lips. Julia dispises Alexander...perhaps ...
If all that Julia said about the legends and lore contain fact. Then this Court of the Fae Nation of Concordia (North America) could be a formidable opponent to the Kindred. How silly of these people to think taking the eldest chylde of Lord Gilland will weaken him. 'Zander may love us, it might tear his soul to loose Giddian or myself, but he'd not let our demise stop him from protecting himself or his holdings.
The Sidhe are romantic in their thought of the Kindred, of any person of power. Sleeping Beauty would be left asleep if it meant a threat to Alexander. I am nae so foolish to think or hope for rescue in such an attempt them. I can nae bare to think of being separated from my lord nor to be used as a tool in his downfall. A blood tear stains her cheek. The loyalty she feels for Alexander begins to war against the faint hope of discovering who she really is. She lays the down the pen. She wanders absently to the doors of the balcony and looks towards the west. Who was Raevnell Darque? Why now, this strange burning in the hallow of her soul - the distinct feeling she *knew* him? Hazy shadows of memories. The outline of a man's form near standing stones. The stars shinning bright in the heavens undimmed by polution or lights from the city.
Back to the problem at hand ~ Shaking her golden red mane, to clear her mind. Kydwyn willed herself back to the desk to take the pen in hand once more...
I must tell Alexander Her delicate brows knitted together as if summoning her will. Somehow make him ken what I scarcely ken myself. I fear his misunderstanding. Perhaps there is a ritual, a ward I can place on the manor to prevent Aubergin's return or the others he says will come.
I must remember to thank Alexander for the flowers. How did he know they were my favorites? His kindness is overwhelming
In Dreams they came, the teachers that Aubergin promised. promised - The Fair Folk. Boogans who taught current history of the Commoners, of the Resergence of 69. Shadowy warriors of Scathach awoke Kidwyn's memories of the wars and the 4 great cycles. Queen Mab sent her own Bard to teach the Lady of Scathach the way s of court, the current ballads of valour. Each willing to risk the banality's curse, hoping to awaken Elentria to who she was and the lady Kydwyn would remember the ancient ways of the Gentry. The Fae longed for the Old Ways.
Siabhra was growing used to the daily visitors to Kidwyn's chamber, the huge white wolf offering a low growl to remind them of who was "in charge". It was no different when the portal opened and again the room hung suspended between realms. Waves of heat ripple the air in corner of the room. Sia allowing the visitor to remain with an uneasy acceptance. The wolf licked Kydwyn's hand attempting to wake her as the slender dark woman stepped thru the portal into the room.
Sia gives a low warning growl. Moira's short dark hair sweeping her shoulders with her graceful movements . I will not harm your mistress meeting the wolf's gaze. Sia lowers her head to her paws giving another short growl as if to have the last word.
Eager to accomplish task to fullfill her debt and leave this opulent mausoleum. Moira took a geode from her pocket of the Hard Rock Cafe jacket she nears the bed her gaze falling upon Kydwyn's guardian as she places it on the night stand Murmuring the words to the cantrip with care, Moira entered the dreamer's dreams. Filchis swept through like the Nexus changing the dreamscape as Moira enters, an anchoring did not change...the cottage at the end of a grove of trees. From the veranda, Moira skillfully begins to craft the crafts the dream world Kydwyn sees.
A journey to the past. Was her life open to them? "Shaimas" Kidwyn murmured as she walked down the familiar windswept path that wound downwards towards the rocky beach below the family homestead. "Mmm the sun felt so good on her peaches and cream skin refracting of the copper and gold of her hair. The old familar taupe broomstick guaze and linnen dress flutters in the breeze about her legs and ankles. down the worn path thru the ice plant Kydwyn spots a familar form awaiting her on the beach.
Hurry up woman think we have all day. The office is busy and your Da did nae see me sneak out. James grinned wickedly. She bounds down the path stooping beside him. The two unquestionably related his long golden redhair pulled back in quec bound with Irish silver. Her golden red hair done up in a french twist soft tendrils floating about her face. Both tall, lithe and sensual. Fae shaped eyes of Dailey green. Their vampiric natures enhancing the physical aspects of their Sidhe birthright and surreal qualities that mark them as such to the knowing. A soft smile curves Kid's lips as she said her warm voice colored with an Irish lilt. Blame it on me then, Sheamais. Taking James' slender hand in her own. James gently wipes Kydwyn's tears away.
'tis a dream ? She asks.
Aye lass, a dream. Comes James's quiet response. His pale green gaze fixed on Kydwyn as if she will vanish. I miss you so much Kydwyn ......
Who separated us Sheamais? She demanded. Tell me and upon my word the person shall perish.
He looks at her solemly. You cannae shed this ones blood Kydwyn.
Kydwyn looks up into his eyes so very much like her own, calmly accepting his words as truth. They walk down the beach James caring a basket ,a bottle wine peeking out from the lid. Kydwyn leads the way to Malaga Cove to an outcropping of rocks were Brennan, James and she used to hide away from the adults and spin elaborate tales and practice cantrips.
The sun warms their fair bodies, the ocean spray making their long hair unruly. Moira smiles at the dreamer's vivid memories intensifying what is seen until taste, touch site and hearing will imprint this dream to her conscious mind. James pours wine into a dixie cup, handing it to her. I believe its your turn to spin the tale.....
Grandfather Dailey told the tale once when I was little- tales of the Ulster Cycle...I hope I can do it justice....her voice as warm as fine wine and as soft as velvet she begins "From the islands at the top of the world, upon the mists and the clouds they came. Settling upon a mountain to the west of Tara. The mighty children of the Mother, the Tuatha De Dannan, the Sidhe. None were more glorious in their appearance -like the angels they were -with beauty to dazzling for mortal man too behold. In their hands were the powers of Light, Life, Warmth, Cold, Night and Death. At a word the Sun would withold its light.and stop warming the earth for three days. James noded, his eyes closed as he reclined against his aunt, on a large rock above the surf. His long lanky legs crossed, out stretched before him. He snatched a white necterine from the picnic basket, and begain peeling it with a pocket knife. James attention upon his aunt/ mother. "Do continue, I forgot this tale." She winks over the edge of the dixie cup and tastes of the slices nectarines proffered by James. With the taste sharply remembering her love of life. Sighing softly she continues the tale.
The dream caster smiles at the shape the dream is taking.
From the ancient white gleaming cities of Falias and Gorias, Murias and Findias they came...Danu's children surpassed all others on the earth with their that knowledge. Magick, Crafts, Cunning, Science and Sorcery . Our Grandfathers, DianCecht studied the arts of healing; Dagda the Father of the Druids- a great teacher became the All Father. Goibhniu mastered the forge creating both tools and weapon. Oghma who could settle disputes and persuade with gifted speech. Banbha,who discovered Erin, with Fohdla and Eriu.
She takes another sip of wine and continues and now if was her own memories that took over.... And with them came the four treasures.."From Findias, Goibhniu brought the sword of Nuadhu.- The Sword of Light No one could escape it once drawn from its deadly sheath which leveled mountains and whole armies. From Gorias, Lugh, the artisan and crafter, who brought The Spear. No battle was ever won against Lugh, or the possessor of the spear. Once cast it did not return until the enemy was destoryed. From Falias came La Fal, The Stone of Destiny who roared through the land when the Ard Ri (High King) stood upon it declaring to the land her True King had been found. And from Murias came The Cauldron - that none of the people the Danann ruled would ever go hungry.
They settled into the land -and for the first few centuries peace
prevailed.. but as happens with people whom we fear or do nae ken battles
broke out. The first was the Battle of Magh Tuiredh which was fought against
the previous invaders. The Tuatha defeated the Fir Bolg. slaying over
a thousand men, including the King of the Fir Bolg ~ Eocchaid MacEric.
A pang of sorrow swept through her. Had she known Mac Eric?
Twas during this battle, the King of the De Danann, Nuada's hand was severed from his body. The laws of the De Danann were so very strict and stated the King must nae be blemished. Nuada lost the throne until Dian Cecht the physician aided by two of his children, Miach and Airmid, forged Nuada a silver hand which functioned well as my own ::flexes and contracts her hand wiggling her fingers. Once fitted with the extraordinary hand Nuada regained his throne.... Another story for another time. She gave a lazy smile to her companion who gestured for her to coninue.
The Second Battle of Magh Tuiredh was against the Formarians. Great was the destruction, before the warriors and sorcerors of the Sidhe prevailed and sealed the four courts of the Fomori deep within the Realms of Faerie...and in the hidden places of the Deep Dreaming.
Then as time passed and the world forgot the great deeds of the Fair
The Great queen, Eriu called together the kings and queens of the Dannan. It was by her wise counsel that no blood be spilt on the Mother. The great earth slayers, The spear of Lugh, the sword of Nuada and the black sword of Awran were also hidden that no mortal would ever weild them. .
Banbha sorceries kept the Milesians beyond the ninth wave. Where Manannan Mac Lir sank their cattle skin vessels. Still Milesians came. Then, the De Danann sent Fodhla. She failed as Banbha her majick did nae stop the invaders for their vison of the land was strong. Then Eriu sat atop a hill throwing mud balls down at the Milesians --. thousands of warriors emmerged. But even Eriu could nae stop the invading armies. Someone had sold to them the secrets of cold iron. Against such most of the Faerie are defenseless.
The Mother was silent and grieved the blood of her children shed at Tara. In honor of the Goddess Eriu surrendered to Eremon and Amergin. So impressed were the rulers of the Celts that they gave Hibernia a new name... Erin. To honor the valour and magick of the great queen.
Our time had passed - the tribe of Dana accepted the terms of surrender as a result the Sidhe would live in the ancient burrows and cairns below the ground, the Fairy Forts and Hills. Some chose to unembody rather than leave the Realm of Man. House Scathach chose to remained with the Commoners. with a sly smile. Some claim that Lancelot, Arthur and Morgan le Fey are children of Scathach.
Kydwyn's eyes shimmer withan errie irridescence as the sky darkens with the coming of night. Jameas rises his eyes meet Kid's. They reach out to each other. Kydwyn puts her finger to James lips , emotions so intense she can utter but a whisper Do nae say it Sheamais.
Nor you Kydwyn James eyes shimmer he kisses her cheek, lips brushing it as he whispers. Bonded by heart and blood Kydwyn, in this life and the next.....do nae forget it...
Sheamais ~ Fan noimead, mas e do thoile.
I won't . James fades from sight she feels the touch of his hand on hers long after he is gone.
Go dte tu slan whipering after his true name.
Before the dreamer awakes, Moira prepares to leave gathering up the geode from the nightstand putting it back with the other half in her jacket pocket and goes out onto the balcony, looking back over her shoulder her eyes widen a bit unnerved by the man's habits of turning up when least expected. But there Aubergin was leaning against the post of the bed nearest the footboard, watching Kydwyn sleep.
Moira wonders silently at his wisdom in dealing with this Leanan Sidhe. Best to ravish her of all the glamour she holds and leave her out for a suntan. Moire owed a great debt to High Lord Darque, he would brook no questioning of his decision or the Queen of Apples'. Shrugging and spinning counter clockwise 3 times dark hair flying, she leaps in the air landing on her feet casting a Wyrd cantrip of # wynd runner #1 glamour. Wynds come from all directions lifting her from the balcony carrying her off into the fading night towards the cityscape far below the hill.
Aubergin Darque stood protecting her sleeping form. Her Dream Guardian always
watching over her. Sighing as a smile washed over his features. Thinking
of how he loved pulling her into the Dreaming with him. Sharing with her
there as he had no other. All under a ruse to keep her from "awakening"
too soon to her past...and her future. How at first the "Game of Her" appealed
to him, until he changed as he grew to know her. She was his "Split-Apart".
This Lost Prodigal, a Childe of Lilith, had captured his heart.
He was Sidhe High Lord that had given up a throne to fully explore the Dreaming. He remembered horrors that crossed the Dreaming Mists, becoming a Knight of the Cold Watch to stop these hideous creatures. Working his way into the Shadow Court to learn even more, gaining prestige as he presented his Purists ideals of the balance Seelie and Unseelie roles. He even earned another "title" in this role, Saint, as the commoner kith call him for his selfless tactics and respect for all...to commoner or noble...he was Saint Darque. But for now he was her Saint alone. His Oath of Guardianship to her made him remember just how special she was to him in those days of distant past. "Awaken soon, sweet Angel, to rejoin us....to rejoin me...as we were in Days of Old. For crossing time and dreaming is nothing for hearts and passions such as ours..." He softly whispered to her slumbering soul as he faded into the Mists once more.
|Kydwyn rests in a pile black satin pillows and sheets of the massive rose
wood four poster bed. Sia is curled up next to her white fur in stark contrast
against the black moiré comforter. The walls of the opulent room
Silvery, full, rising slowly along her path the orb of winters moon gives forth a opaque glimmer over the mountain peaks and lake below. Down a darkened path long ago reclaimed by the woods leading back into a small hallow and there a rustic old cabin sets among snow laden trees nearly hidden from view.
Snow crunches under hurried footsteps. Musical laughter hushed by the trees as Kydwyn runs up a path towards the cabin, teal green traveling cape swirls about. A dark haired handsome man is close on her heels. Glancing over a shoulder at him ~the hood of the cape falls golden red hair tumbles past her small hips flying back as Kyd tries to keep out of reach. He moves with feral grace overtaking Kydwyn easily.
Pounding his shoulders playfully and crying out ,Ahhh ! No! Stop ! In mock protest Kyd's feet fly in the air his strong arms band tightly about her. His mouth silencing her protests. Kyd surrenders almost immediately, tasting him, resting against him. He carries her with ease up the stairs crosses the covered porch to the door kicking it open. A huge hearth across from simple woodsmen bed of polished cedar. It occurs to Kyd that he had this place made ready. She is touched deeply by his thoughtfulness.
Held by his obsidian pools that shift in color to deep violet all that she feels evident in her gaze as he gently puts her down on the feather bed . He walks away wicked smile playing upon his lips. Kyd concentrates speaking softly in ancient dialect of Gaelic weaving a cantrip. A cobalt ball of soft light ignites in her cupped palms , then dances along slender fingers. Almost with a mind of its own it shoots from her fingertips leaving a glittering trail on its journey to hearth igniting the wood like fireworks...the light flickers through out the room the warmth of the flames driving the chill away.
Sensing his presence, turning towards him , awe is reflected in her countenance ~if she had a heart it would have stopped at that moment.His naked form bathed in moon and hearth light. My gods, Raevnell .....Finding her voice as her gaze falls languidly over his form .You ....you're magnificent.
Kydwyn, Kydwyn wake .An an unwanted intrusion to the moment. Loathe to awaken, but awaken she does. Raevnell stands over her brushing a strand of her hair from her face with his finger tips. In quiet awe she asks. Ce ne tusa~that you can move so freely from my dreams to reality ?
You know who I am. He replies with a sly smile. Kydwyn rises to greet Raevnell sliding from the massive bed, emerald green gown slipping down her lithe body pooling at her feet. He takes her into his arms kissing her softly he pulls tightly against him. Spellbound and enchanted they hold each other. She reaches up cupping his head with her delicate hand pulling him down she kisses him with abandon, tasting the sweetness of his mouth. Raevnell returning the kiss with equal passion. Raevnell's crimson lips curve slyly, as she draws a finger along his jawline. Strange dream I am having Milord...
His deep voice caressing her being."Strange Dreams indeed...." He looks down upon her regretting his ruse, wondering if she will accept him once he reveals the truth. Raevnell holds Kydwyn to him no sooner that the doubt tugged at his heart he knew she would forgive him anything, her slumbering fae soul remembered. Rabbit trailing away from his private thoughts he asked aloud. " How much do you know of your heritage Kydwyn. ~Of the Sidhe and myth?"
Kydwyn looks up into his fae eyes, dark mirrors of midnight violet reflecting her upturned face. An odd question Raevnell... Pausing a moment to consider a response. That the Sidhe and perhaps other fae exist, and like clans of Scotland they cannae seem to find a unity among themselves...perhaps when the Endless Winter comes. In all myth lies a core of truth, to tease the collective memories to recall things that must not be forgotten. To you I admit this freely to others they are myth the stuff of children's stories..
Raevnell responds. Then on the morrow we will start and I will tell you many things.. Until then My Angel ....His parting kiss is filled with longing as he released her slowly-aching already from the separation. I must go, Kydwyn. He backed away their fingers trailing down each others arms and hands lingering upon fingertips. A soft sensual smile curves Kydwyn's lips, tosseuled golden red hair framing her heart shaped face cascading over her lithe body create the last images of her as he turns on the balcony to behold her once more the night air ripples around him and he fades from sight.
Kyd sits bolt upright in bed...the straps of the emerald silk slip gown sliding down on ivory shoulders. She glances about the room expecting to see the dark angel of her dreams. Tasting him yet on her lips, his spicy scent still lingering in the room. She senses that he has only just left."Raevnell " Softly she calls to him. Half expecting him to answer. She rises, her feet sinking into crimson carpeting as she slides from the bed. Grabbing a robe as she walks to the manor's study -down the hall and slips inside the massive doors.
paces the gardens of the manor like a lioness on the prowl contemplating
the situation counting the cost of any action she might take. Heightened
senses warning that she will soon have company. The Nightly dreams both
confusing and delighting her. Frightening and fascinating. She felt alive.
She longed for freedom to find someplace close to the mother.Whipering softly
"Sweet Danu give me patience."
It is an act of will that keeps her obediat to Alexander's wishes. Denying her nature eats away at her soul. Kydwyn pushes the thoughts that tempt her. Alexander was not so sinister as most believed. She trusted him believing he held her best interest at heart. Shaking her head to clear her mind of it. Walking inside to Giselle's rooms she leans in silence on the door frame watching Giselle paint not wishing to disturb Gis's creative mein.
Gis was often in her own world these days and burried in studies. Giselle's companionship had made unlife bearable and Kyd less desirous of what and whom she missed. Giselle D'Etre had come to visit several months ago. Kydwyn was glad when she decided upon an extended stay.
But now the dreams were making Kydwyn see the world through different eyes. She had desired the Dark gift. Alexander was ancient and wise he could have seduced ... No, she thought, her sire was not deceptive. Evasive perhaps. An audible sigh escapes her lips as she turns to greet the security chief, Good Moon, Michael.
Unblinking fae eyes meet Michael's brown gaze he recognized that high spirited look he had seen it once before when Alexander an first brought her to the manor. The giant man responds in his booming voice Good Evening M'lady . Herni is here for your lesson. He had observed the silent way she grieved James Daily's passing. It was good to see her spirits return what ever trouble she may find.He was up for the challenge.
Quietly she inquired " Michael will you be to busy to escort me to the Dailey offices at the docks this evenin" Please Michael I will go mad ifI i remain within these walls much longer "
"I will be free after midnight M'lady." Deciding if he should tell her about the expected war with the Sabbat. Knowing she had not seen Alexander. raising a wooley brow as the idea struck home . Could it be the chylde was avoiding her sire?
Good its time I return to the family business. Kydwyn smiled sweetly. I wish to feel the deck of James' boat under my feet again . What she needed was clear site. The ocean was where she wanted be. ~ I need to feel close to him.
With slight effort the enormus man releases his aura to touch the aura surrounding the chylde usually pale shades of blue, vermillion and yellow and was now but purple edged and myriads of sparkles shot through. Her own abilities? Maybe, but his suspicious nature wouldn't give him peace. Wearing a dour expression Michael decides that he could use the situation to glean answers to his questions. His sharp eyes notice delicate silver bracelettes encircle Kydwyn's wrist growing in number.
If someone had harmed the lass he would have the head of whoever was
responsible. Making a note to search the security videos. Searching her
mind for answers would be difficult if not impossible her gifting nearly
as strong as his own, though not quite as focused. I think we can arrange
for you to go this eve M'lady. She flashes him a true and grateful
smile; quietly saying "Go ralbh maith agat "
Entering the practice area of the gardens Kydwyn picks up the Kells sword. The instructor nods to her. She rolls her shoulders loosening up. They greet each other. He begins to move and she mirrors his motion to near perfection for nearly a half an hour..
"Good Kydwyn, I think we are ready for a fight " Shadows seem to cling to her "Ohh really? " She purrs." You think I am ready. " Pretending she hadn't teethed on the midevial weapon had proven to be good entertainment giving her the opportunity to add to her bag of tricks. Spoiling for a good fight she hoped holding back in a mock battle would not prove difficult. The cat might become the mouse if she wasn't careful.
" You know the steps to the dance, M'lady "
With a sweetly evil smile. "Then choose the weapons sir..." Looking forward to channelling the agressiveness burning through her being.
He picks up a Scotish single handed sword that is near to the weight and size of Kyd's weapon. Taking her stance as he begins circling, taunting her a bit. Kydwyn studies each move. He begins the attack. Kydwyn meets his blade, grace and speed matching his own. Metal clangs upon metal resounding off the walls of the gardens.
Again he taunts her, his blade leaving a long cut on his opponent's arm. Her eyes flash peridot fire. She becomes agressor much to the instructors surprise. No emotions show on Kyd's surreal features. The lights are on and no bodys home. He begins to defend in ernest. All the pent up anger of the beast focused and directed at him, her blade an extention of her being. Suddenly he is aware the fight is no longer a lesson. M'lady ??? met with her silence as the blades meet their song continuing with each stroke."M'lady !?!?!"
Kydwyn fights on in silence her jabs turning to thrusts. Henri parrys them off sweat begins to trickle down his face. Her movements becoming quicker showing no evidence of tiring. He fleches to throw her off. Kyd parrys the blade aside then riposte hooking a slender leg around his his sword flys from his hand clattering across the garden as he falls to the ground. Her blade poised for the kill. her features hardening taking on that of the preditor, pearly white fangs show beneath her pale lips
~a low growl at the now wide eyed Henri Kydwyn commands "take your blade." lowering her weapon, steping back "And leave." The ghoul hurriedly takes up his weapon and leaves. She had treated Henri dishonorably, she regreted it already watching the old ghoul leave muttering to herself. A new wrinkle lass, we must deal with.
Kyd calls to a blood doll kept at the manor for Alexander's chylder and guest's needs.
Kyd cant help but think " Meals on Wheels" as the man approaches her. Unceremoniously taking the mans arm quickly sinking her fangs into the soft flesh drinking rapidly to get the ordeal over . Licking the wound closed, grateful this one wasn't given to swooning with "the kiss". Thanking him quietly sending him away as she retires to her room.
Lady Kidwyn Irene Dailey's Till Endless Winter Comes
Music is: The