murder makes strange bed fellows (Closed)

[The_gladiator]

The King is Dead. Those words that had filled the hall should have been a relief to Gwydion, lord of sleep and dreams, formerly of the Seelie court, however they were not. Reluctant member of the unseelie court though he was, the Seelie king had ruled his destiny for many centuries. To be honest the bastard was the reason that Gwydion found himself a reluctant member of the darkling throng. So, by all intents and purposes he should be ecstatic that the whoreson was dead. Yet, he honestly wasn’t, not like this.

It was said that where ever the sidhe lead, the rest of faerie and by extension the rest of the magical community followed. This meant that all of the Magical world that existed alongside human society, yet hidden just out of their sight or ability to reach was in turmoil. The fragile peace that had been achieved in the land of magic following the last fae war, established roughly 75 years ago, in the human’s reckoning of 1945 was now severely threatened.

The announcement had reached the unseelie court on the whispers of its occupants. They continued even after the queen had confronted Gwydion. “You did it dream walker.” Her anger causing her to neglect Gwydion’s titles. All eyes had then been on the gold skinned warrior who stood at the foot of the queen’s deus. His tricolored eyes flashed with his own emotion at suddenly being accused like that. The queen had just heard of her rival’s death and immediately jumped to him, this meant that many would do the same.

Gwydion had straightened to his full height, which was taller than the average human. His hair was golden and fell to the back of his knees, braids on either side of his head holding the hair behind his ears, leaving his face cleanly visible. His very Seelie appearance was starkly obvious in this little shop of horrors and dark beauty. “I did not commit this act,” was Gwydion’s measured reply, his voice a deep rumble that likewise filled the hall.

“You would certainly profit from his death.”

“So, would you my lady,” Gwydion had retorted quickly, causing gasps among the court. The queen had killed men for less. However, she seemed to actually be considering his words.

“Swear it.” She had finally ordered coldly.

“I swear it.” Gwydion had responded without hesitation.

“No dream lord, swear properly.” The queen said leaning forward, her stormy gaze digging into his.

“I swear by the darkness that eats all things that I did not kill the king of the Seelie court.” There had been a long pause as the court seemingly waited for faerie itself to eat him alive for telling a lie. Gwydion was not surprised when nothing had happened. He would have gladly killed the king but he hadn’t done so.

“If you didn’t kill him then you will help find his killer. Queen Maurelle will want a scapegoat if the killer is not found. If I was quick to jump to your name, rest assured that she will do so too. If you do not find the killer, I am sure she would have no problem spilling your blood to maintain the peace.” The queen’s words still rung in Gwydion’s mind days later as he prepared to meet his fellow investigator. He knew little about this “partner” other than she was not a member of the sidhe, and she was from the pacifists, the group who wanted them to continue living in harmony with humankind. Gwydion was the elected representative of the elitists, the group that had once been spearheaded by the Seelie ruler, who wished to roll back time and rule over the weak humans. The magical counsel had demanded that a member of both parties investigate the murder, neither trusting the other side to conduct a true investigation. However, the bureaucracy had taken 3 days and Gwydion was sure any clues that they may have found would surely be gone now, the trail would be cold. However, queen Adriana was right, he was motivated to solve this murder, if only to prevent his own sacrifice, because he trusted Adriana’s words about Queen Maurelle. However, Adriana was also correct in suggesting her bodyguard as the elitist candidate, his ties to both Sidhe court meant that both trusted him to an extent, even if most disliked him just on principle of who he was and what he had done to aid the dead king in the past. Gwydion had done his duty, even as he did his duty now. However not everyone understood or remembered what honor was anymore.


(Author's note: This thread is closed, please do not post without permission of the authors. Reading is encouraged and feedback via pm is always welcome.

 

[wanna_be]

That the king of the Unseelie court was dead isn't particularly perturbing. Not for Tanith Sorrows. She'd never particularly liked the old bastard. And old he had been. Hope, like most of the magically gifted, has been blessed with an extraordinarily long-life span. At over a hundred years old she barely looks a hair over twenty-five. The king of the sidhe's years had dwarfed even that fairly impressive span. Dead he still was however.

Tanith is dressed in a suit, it's well fitted, and accentuates her slender form. On top of it is a heavy coat, some proof against the harsh winds of retreating winter. Not that she needs it, the scarf about her neck doesn't even feel warm, but the enchantment woven into it means that she is barely even aware of the chill.

Removing the scarf, she steps inside and shrugs off the heavy coat as well. It's worn more for the look of the thing than because it's necessary. The scarf always keeps her at a comfortable temperature, she could be wandering around in her underwear and still feel no different. Her eyes flash as she sets them upon the creature that is evidently intended to be her partner in this.

Tanith is actually an officer of the Council, and to be paired with anything less than that seems a calculated insult, though that also makes sense. She's hardly popular these days. Her habit of never letting go of a case until she has the truth seems to be responsible for that, though it may also be the reason she's been given this case.

She flicks her dark hair in the tall fae's direction, speaking in fluent sidhe. "You're Gwydion?"

 

[The_gladiator]

“No, it’s not the unseelie king that is dead,” Gwydion was arguing with a desk clerk when he saw her enter. “King Randrin of the Seelie is the murder we’re investigating,” Gwydion said looking exasperated. Three days and these idiots were clueless. He spoke to the clerk in accented English. “No, I am no longer of the Seelie court. I am Unseelie now. Yes, both courts trust me that is why I have been appointed to this investigation.”

Turning away from the less than useful clerk Gwydion approaches the woman he had seen enter just a moment ago. He was surprised when she addressed him in the old tongue, the sidhe spoken at the courts of faerie. His eyes, which had a tricolor hew, pale leading to azure in the center widened with surprise. He had not expected her to know his language, had fully anticipated having to speak the human tongue to communicate with her. Somehow this helped raise his opinion of her at least a little. Still he couldn’t be rid of all the haughtiness as he spoke, “Lord Gwydion, master of sleep and dreams,” he corrected her. “However yes, you may address me as Gwidion. You would be Tanith?” He was curious what sort of magical creature she was; it was not immediately apparent from her appearance. He could have probed her with his power, but he wasn’t in the mood to be quite that rude.

“Can you explain to me, why this fellow thinks that it is the Unseelie king who is dead?”

“I told you sir, it was an honest mistake,” the clerk responded in broken Sidhe. “The sidhe have refused to allow access into their sithens until they had sidhe representation. That is, you. We were clearly misinformed.”

Gwydion lifted a hand cutting the man off, “Silence, do not slaughter my language any further. This one,” he inclined his head to Tanith, “may speak it, for she does so with elegance and respect, children speak Sidhe better than you.”

“Have you truly not been granted access to the sithens? They have kept you out of the faerie courts?” He asked Tanith, sounding somewhat surprised.

 

[wanna_be]

Tanith slipped smoothly into English, she may speak more than passable sidhe, but that didn't mean she was going to continue to do so. She didn't have a particular liking for the fae, any of them. the conflict nearly a century earlier had been towards the beginning of her long life in magic. She'd been young, but she hadn't forgotten the conflict, and the sidhe had been the main aggressors.

She raises a leather gloved hand, palm towards the tall figure, then flicks up a finger. "First off, let's get one thing straight. I don't speak your language with anything approaching respect, I just wanted to establish that there will be no underhanded deals or subterfuge with me around."

A second finger is extended, almost looking like Tanith is making the peace sign. "Second, you are a faerie, and you're surprised that they've kept us mere mortals out? The only reason they're going to let me in is because I'm with you, and I'm the Council's appointed representative."

She drops her hand, walking past the Unseelie with a sidelong glance. She drops her badge on the desk, it's a heavy, ornate piece, wrapped in its own enchantments that are older than she is. Most of them serve one single purpose however, confirming the identity of the bearer. She speaks to the young clerk behind the desk. In truth he could be near her age, magic has strange effects upon the human body.

"Since we're the children in question here, what evidence have they actually released to us? If any…"

The young man still looks nervous, after all, the sidhe hasn't left, and Tanith's presence hardly makes things any easier on him, not with the heavy badge of rank she's dropped in front of him. She rolls her eyes, "Come on kid, I haven't got all day."

Eventually he recovers his composure, fetching a small box from the room behind the desk. It's about the shoe box. Tanith stares at it in disbelief. That look of disbelief only continues as she lifts the lid and sees how sparse its contents are.

She turns back to Gwydion. "It's shit like this that means nobody else likes you."

 

[The_gladiator]

Gwydion lifts one arched eyebrow as she makes her emphatic points. He had actually paid her a roundabout compliment so was surprised at her vehemence. He is unsure why he is, though. She likely hated him because he was a sidhe, because he was technically an elitist, and because she had to rely on him to accomplish her goals.

The clerk reached out to lay a finger on her badge, watching the swirling colors and waves of magic that he knew could not be faked. He said nothing but did produce the box finally. Gwidion watched this exchange and drifted closer, using his height to peer down into the box. He swore in sidhe, though rapidly switched to goblin as it offered a wider array of invective to draw upon.

It appeared as if the box contained a few pictures of the crime scene. More accurately it contained a few hand drawn sketches of the crime scene. The Only other item was the king’s signet ring, which still appeared to bare the bloodstains from its owner.

He did not seem to notice her vailed insult as he was just as disturbed at the startling lack of evidence, hence the invective in goblin. His imperious gaze lifted to the clerk. “You are certain this is all they provided?”

The clerk looked surprised, “Why would I hold anything back, sir?”

“Never mind.” Gwydion grunted his attention back on Tanith and the box. “Are any of the drawings useful?” he asked. He wondered why they would send the signet ring. There had to be a reason for that, the Seelie wouldn’t have parted with that easily.

 

[wanna_be]

Pulling the drawings from the box, Tanith inspects them closely. At least the sidhe are famously anal, the images are so accurate they could have almost been photographs. She scrutinises them carefully, shifting through to the next sketch as she leaves Gwydion waiting in silence. Technically they are useful, particularly the one of the King's wound, a single blade wound to the chest. The edges look blackened, the flesh curling away as if it had been trying to escape from whatever blade had done it.

Even so, they aren't even close to replacing the actual experience of walking through the crime scene herself. She says as much. "You know, this sort of 'co-operation' makes me wonder whether the sidhe killed their own king. You're here for a reason right? Can't you talk to someone and get us into his chambers?"

That was supposed to be the whole point of the tall, imperious looking sidhe being here in the first place. Although maybe he was also here to act as her babysitter. Tanith doesn't play the game, she hates politics, and that means that she isn't popular with the majority of the Council. What she is, is good at her job, once she gets the scent of a case she won't let go of it, not until she cracks the thing wide open and gets at the truth. That seems to have lead to the stalling of her career. Either Gwydion is in good with someone on the Council, and they'd asked him to keep the leash on her, or he was here for much the same reason as she.

She pulls out the signet ring. Tanith understands the significance of it as a symbol of the king's authority, but beyond that she has nothing. She holds it up to where it catches the light, glinting in the strange way ensorcelled metal does.

"Mean anything to you?"

 

[The_gladiator]

Gwydion tries to view the pictures over her shoulder. Cameras are known to not work well in Faerie, though these sketches look well drawn. To view them he has to get closer to her than she was probably comfortable with, but he seems almost oblivious to the fact he is invading her bubble even as he fixates on what they are looking at.

“Part of my role is to indeed take you to the crime scene, though I would not count on it having remained undisturbed. It is my guess that the king rests in state now, for others to worship and view and pay their respects. Queen Maurelle will uphold the traditions of the Seelie court in that before his body is given to the light. As the king of light and illusion he will be given to the light after the time of mourning.” He pauses and then clarifies, “This will of course erase any evidence on his body.”

Extending his hand, he silently requests the kings ring. “It is somewhat surprising that Queen Maurelle let this out of her sight. Someone is sending us a message with it, I know not who, though” He murmurs. As soon as his hand contacts the ring he gasps as a jolt of power flashed through him. His hair fans out in a cloud behind him, glittering gold. He is fully stripped of his glamour in that instant, and rather than a lovely golden tan, his skin glows gold, and his irises glow with blue fire. Just as suddenly as it stripped him bare, the sidhe regains control and the glowing stops and he is left, still beautiful, but no longer glowing, just as before. Wordlessly he hands her back the ring, “This is not the time or place for that.” He offers finally, sounding rattled. The unflappable persona not as easy to rebuild as his shields against his own power had been.

 

[wanna_be]

The fae's reaction to the ring makes Tanith take a step back. She's not unaccustomed to the effects of magic, but she hadn't expected such a flashy display. The fact that Gwydion clearly hadn't been expecting it either also takes her aback. She might not like the fae, but they were damn good at presenting a good face.

His glamour had been stripped away and the unnatural beauty of any fae was disturbed. She is left momentarily breathless, before the glow fades and his glamour is returned. It ends as suddenly as it had begun, but clearly whatever it was had come from the ring. "What… the fuck… was that?"

Tanith fought in the war, she's seen seelie magic, but it's been a long time since she's seen anything like that, something had stripped away the fae's defences in a heartbeat, something that hadn't even touched her. Magic that subtle was rare, and it was beyond expensive. She could count the people in the world capable of that sort of enchantment on her fingers. And three of them were the same person.

"Did that just destroy your glamour? Or did it take everything else with it?"

 

[The_gladiator]

He could only shrug at her initial comment of what the fuck was that. He seemed to have some knowledge but seemed very unwilling to speak of it there and then. He gave her a long hard look as if considering what he could, or should tell her. Finally, he spoke, “It stripped me of every shield I possessed. It has demands, it wants in. I blocked its intrusions for now. As I said this is not the time or place for such things.” He told her this last part grudgingly. He still appeared rattled, but also somewhat unwilling to share with her, but was it just the nature of where they were.

Without another word he moves away assuming she will follow. “We must move quickly, before that clerk tells someone he shouldn’t of what has occurred here.”

 

[wanna_be]

The ring itself had stripped away the sidhe spelss that Gwydion had no doubt been layered in. It had done so in half a second. Tanith would have killed for the ability to enchant like that. Though clearly someone had used those enchantments to kill the king. If Gwydion had been protected, then no doubt the spell's guarding the seelie monarch had been twice as powerful, yet he was dead. Whoever had killed him would have had only a split second to kill him, and they would have had access to his signet ring. That made the list of potential suspects vanishingly small. "This definitely makes our job easier."

She examines the ring he has place back in her hands, it seems to have had no effect upon her enchantments, perhaps targeted against sidhe magic. If she hadn't seen it in action just now she would have found it near impossible to divine the purpose of the enchantments that clothed it.

Slipping the ring into her pocket, she grabs the box the clerk had brought and tucks it under her arm. His mouth opens as if to protest but he is swiftly silenced as she waves her badge under his nose before returning it to her belt. Technically she shouldn't be taking the evidence, but bluster has gotten her a long way in the past. His mouth shuts like a steel trap and she turns, striding towards the exit. "Let's go, I haven't been to Tír na nÓg in decades."

 

[The_gladiator]

Gwydion did not speak until he deemed them to be alone. “I suspect the king enchanted the ring with the ability to record events.” He said finally, “I only got flashes…”

He looked at her, “We either need to find someone I can trust to defend me while I let that thing take over my mind or find someone else the ring responds to.” His look turned skeptical, “Are you powerful enough to do such?” He did not think he could trust her but thought that he should at least ask if she had the ability to keep him safe if he was the one to commune with the ring. “The king of light and illusion was powerful, there is no telling what that ring might be capable of. It is an ancient faerie artifact; it may have even been enchanted by faerie itself.” He sighed. “I wonder how it ended up in that box of evidence. Who could have gotten it to us? “Most of his questions seemed rhetorical even as he headed towards Tír na nÓg, the home of his people.

 

[wanna_be]

Tanith shoots Gwydion a dirty look when he asks her whether she was powerful enough. "Well we didn't lose the damn war did we?"

Most people that know Tanith would call her cocky. She thought of herself as confident. After all, she regularly had to bring in dangerous warlocks and rogue magical creatures. The fae tended to police themselves, which made it clear how momentous the death of the king was. The extended magical community weren't going to let the sidhe sweep this one under the carpet, no matter how much they clearly wanted to.

His long legs mean that he quickly catches up to her as she exits the building, though she barely gives him a second glance this time as he talks. It's fairly clear he's not interested in her opinion right now, and truth be told, she's not particularly interested in giving it. The building they leave looks for all the world like any old office building. That's what it is, in fact, except any normal human attempting to enter it would be rebuffed by a powerful charm that convinced them the building was in fact derelict and deserted. Somehow it had not been torn down, and it wouldn't be for as long as the magical community were interested in using it.

Tanith stops besides her car, a gleaming grey Buick Wildcat that looks so well cared for it could have just rolled off the production line. She scowls, leaning across the windscreen to rip out a ticket from behind the windscreen. Crumpling it up, she looks each way, looking for whatever parking attendant had been here before. There is no one to be seen. "Are we sure that these guys aren't magical too? I swear they're as slippery as a damn leprechaun."

She walks around the car to climb in at the opposite side, pausing by the door, "And before you say anything, no, it doesn't run on gas. I like the car, I'm not a lunatic. We can check out your ring later, right now I want to get to that crime scene before they tidy the damn thing up."

 

[The_gladiator]

He made no comment to her question about losing the war. He had technically fought on the other side of that war from her, but this was probably not the time to remind her of that. She already disliked him., no need to give her further ammo.

He followed her out to the car. Snorting at her comment about the parking attendant, he got in the passenger side of the vehicle. As they had stepped out into areas humans could see him, his features changed. His eyes became one shade of blue, the azure of the center ring seeming to swallow the rest of the colors. His hair also appeared much shorter, merely shoulder length, rather than to his knees as it had appeared inside. He still wore the long leather coat over his suit, and it seemed to work for him.

He gave her a look as she mentioned wanting to get to the crime scene before they cleaned it up, “You actually think any of it will be in tact?” he asked curiously. “You have more faith than I do, then.” With that he fell silent to let her drive.

It was no secret that most fae disliked metal, and too much exposure could kill the weakest of them. If it troubled Gwydion it was not apparent as he let his eyes sweep over their surroundings. Humans were so oblivious to the alternate world that lived right alongside theirs.

 

[wanna_be]

Tanith scoffs, "Of course not, but even the best cleaners leave some dirt somewhere."

She doesn't explain her other reason, that she wants to flex her new influence and let the fae know exactly who she is. The sidhe are already giving her the run around, and she wants to make it clear that she won't just take that lying down. Bulling her way into the King's private chambers should make that point nicely. It won't stop the bastards from playing games, but it will at least let them know that they're playing hardball.

The car roars along crowded streets, Tanith slamming it in and out of traffic. She drives like she has a death wish, overtaking other's on single lane roads and blasting through reds as if traffic laws don't apply to her. To be fair, they don't.

She keeps driving until they leave the city, heading out into the scrublands and towards the forest. There aren't many rings left, and those that still stand are old, older than humanity and some say older than the fae themselves. All of them are linked to the fae world, though how stable and safe that link might be seems to be dependent on the ring in question.

"You came through this way?" She asks.

 

[The_gladiator]

Gwydion looks a bit green from her driving. Which is somewhat comical for an immortal? He does not answer readily to her question about how he had gotten there. The sidhe were not real open about their secrets. “The ring you’re heading to will get us there,” he finally answered. So, only somewhat dodgy was his chosen speed.

“Watch out for the…” He breaks off as she swerves to miss a truck parked on the shoulder of the road. “Who gave you a license, again?” he asked sardonically.

 

[wanna_be]

Tanith laughs. "A license? Why would I need one of those."

She pulls the wheel over hard as she speaks, narrowly avoiding plowing into the back of a sedan coasting along at the legal speed limit. Tanith, on the other hand, seems to regard that limit as a minimum. The car roars as she overtakes the middle-aged driver who stares at them in shock and annoyance as the Wildcat easily pulls ahead of him.

It doesn't take long, the roads growing steadily emptier as they leave the city. Eventually they are the only car on the road as that road begins to wind through thickening trees. Tanith glances out of the side window, the sky is dark, though it is still early morning, and the glowering clouds threaten rain. She doesn't mind the rain, but she doesn't particularly want to be picking her way through the trees and the mud in a downpour.

The ring, when they finally reach it on foot, is a set of tall standing stones, each a little taller than the Fae lord and with a kind of silent, ominous power. This is a magic far older than any Tanith is capable of, and more than the side can achieve any longer. It’s purer, cleaner. Tanith raises an expectant eyebrow at Gwydion. She knows the incantation, but the magic of the rings birthed that of the sidhe, and he would find it far easier to take them through than she would.

"Today would be nice..."

 

[The_gladiator]

Gwydion rode in silence in the car. He was worried honestly what he might say to her. Finally, they left the car and walked through the forest to the ancient circle.

He glared at her as she spoke, “You do not rush Faerie,” he told her coldly, “You respect such ancient power.” Some evoked the magic through words, through spells. Others like he evoked it with his power.

His Glamour faded again revealing his tricolored irises and long golden hair. Stepping into the center of the ring he let his power flow outward, touching that of the circle. Circles were powerful magic, they contained things, kept things in at times, at others kept things out. This circle was one that would take them to the land of Faerie.

As the power woke to his touch and he felt the gateway forming, he extended his hand to Tanith. It was an invitation and an order. Since he had woke the gateway it wasn’t wide open, he had made it a condition of passing through that anyone entering would have to do so touching him. This was a holdover from times long ago when others would slip unseen through gateways to Faerie and cause havoc in those lands. “Come on, today would be nice,” he said turning her own words on her.

 

[wanna_be]

Some say that the rings are the first magic the Sidhe ever created, others that the Sidhe themselves are mere children to whoever had created the great stone monoliths. Nobody knows for sure, except perhaps the Sidhe themselves, and they certainly aren't telling. Tanith has always suspected the latter, the Sidhe aren't exactly going to admit that someone else might have been more powerful than them after all.

She scowls at him, deliberately taking her time as she reaches out and takes his hand. It's not unexpected, but it is still an irritation. For a moment reality seems to hold its breath. Then everything jumps. Its as if a video stream hitched. Nothing is visibly different, but here and there moving branches appear to be in slightly different positions to how they had been a heartbeat ago.

Tanith takes a deep breath. It's Faerie alright, it always smells fresher, cleaner than the human realm. She realises she's still holding onto Gwydion's hand, and drops it as if burned. Adjusting her jacket, she checks she still has the badge and turns to her, for want of a better word, partner. "I'm a little surprised there's no welcoming committee."

As if they'd been waiting for a moment to prove her wrong, said welcoming committee emerged from the trees. Their leader was tall, taller even than Gwydion, but with that strange, ethereal grace all Sidhe possessed. Dressed in ornate armour and carrying a sword that looks wickedly sharp despite it's clearly ceremonial decorations. He's obviously important, as the other's defer to his movements as he strides towards them. It's not entirely to Tanith's surprise that he moves towards Gwydion rather than her, though the look on his face takes her a little aback. He does not look happy to see the Fae lord.

 

[The_gladiator]

It does not take them long to move to the land of faerie. Tanith drops his hand as if he had burnt her. He was surprised she didn’t wipe it on her pants. This thought causing him to smirk. He only shrugs at her mention of a welcoming party. Unfortunately like her words summoned one, one such party appeared.

The sidhe that approached them had long red and silver hair and eyes with leaves like those from a maple tree. “Maple lord,” he greeted the other, not even bothering to use his name, honoring his title though.

The other glared at him for a long moment before he dipped his head ever so slightly, “Dream lord.” Gwydion returned the dip of his head. He had once been lord Gwydion, lord of sleep and dreams, so the title was at least respectful. “I’m told we’re to escort you to the Seelie court. Something about an investigation. We’re not happy to let unseelie scum like you into the court.”

Gwydion found that a bit amusing he had been a leader of one of the Seelie households for hundreds of years. He had been a member of the Unseelie court for less than 50 years now. He ground his teeth but did not respond to the jab. He wanted to rail that he was as Seelie as that rat bastard was, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. His exiled status from the golden court was not a subject he wanted to discuss at length right now. “Will we see queen Maurelle, also?” he asked about the deceased king’s wife, queen of the Seelie court.

As he spoke, he started walking towards their destination, assuming Tanith would follow.

 

[wanna_be]

The Maple lord then. Tanith at least knows the fae is powerful in the Seelie Court, or was. Now that the King is dead presumably his position as head of his household guard had seen some reduction in his influence and favour. She doubted many particularly wanted to be his friend after he had failed so spectacularly in his task. She watches the exchange between he and Gwydion with a curious smirk. It's almost as if there is something more personal there than the Unseelie's famously controversial history. A mystery for another time perhaps.

She follows the two taller individuals, one hand going to her neck to touch the amulet hidden beneath the scarf there. It's faintly warm, heated by the presence of powerful magic. If she were to remove the scarf then it would no doubt be glowing faintly as it reveals the traces of magic that fill the air in Faerie.

The Maple lord scoffs at Gwydion's question. "The Queen has no desire to see you. She is in mourning for her noble husband."

Tanith takes this opportunity to interject. "But we have desire to see her. In case you didn't notice this is now a murder investigation."

The tall, red and silver haired Sidhe shoots her a glare, his green-gold eyes sparking with anger and more than a hint of superiority. If Tanith hadn't been accustomed to watching for such signs, she might not have seen his grip tighten on the long blade in his hand. She carefully releases the amulet and moves to cross her arms, hands sliding against the bracelets on each wrist. The Sidhe's gaze remains on Tanith for a moment longer, before moving back to Gwydion.

When he speaks he does so in the tongue of the Sidhe, "Instruct your pet that she is suffered here only accompanied by you, and she has no..."

Interrupting, Tanith speaks in his own tongue, to his evident surprise. "You can talk to me. I'm the officer of the council, not him, and if you think I'm some sort of pet I can show you just how nasty my bite can be."

For a moment she wonders if he might actually take her up on that challenge. The tall Sidhe stares at her in fury. She meets his gaze with a flat, blank stare. She wouldn't have backed down anyway, but she certainly wasn't going to back down from a self-important son-of-a-bitch like this. Eventually the Sidhe drags his eyes away, muttering in English. "I will speak with the Queen, you may request an audience."

Tanith raises an eyebrow. It's not agreement, but is at least a step beyond flat refusal. She glances at Gwydion. "I think that's best, while she deliberates on our request I think we'd like to see the King's chambers."

 

[The_gladiator]

Gwidion watches their exchange a half smirk on his face. It is somewhat enjoyable to see someone else on the end of the sharp tongue of this one other than himself. That thought worked either way he looked at it, and he had to school his face to conceal his thoughts.

He wasn’t sure what they’d find in the chambers. He suspected the ring had the key; he certainly knew that talking to this prick was getting them nowhere. “Please request queen Maurelle see us. She does not wish a dueling her court at this time, which is what she’ll find if you don’t do as you say you will. “Gwidion added. “Oh, and while you’re at it, give the lady Aelyn my best.”

Why you,” and Tristin, the one known as the maple lord lunged at Gwidion. His own people caught him restraining him. Gwidion had produced a blade from somewhere. It was unclear where he had hidden a saber on his body, but it was his ancient weapon, dream weaver, with its crystalline edge glinting in the sunlight. His free hand was at the ready and anyone who knew enough about the Sidhe knew that was the hand where his hand of power was. Technically he had more than one hand of power, but only one was activated through touch, and that was the hand he’d left free. The hand that could put an opponent to sleep with a touch. The maple lord and his party knew this, though it was of course unclear how much Tanith knew about her new partner.

“Give me a reason to kill you Tristin,” Gwidion encouraged, almost sounding like he was begging the other to do so.

“You mean fucking your consort isn’t enough reason?”

The whistle of Gwidion’s saber split the air and he lunged, and it was one of the others whose blades intercepted the strike while the others continued to hold Tristin back. “My beef isn’t with you Mathias.” Gwidion snarled.

“We’ll take you to the king’s chambers and you two will behave yourselves,” Mathias growled. Gwidion had to give him credit as an underling to stand up to both Gwidion and his own leader. Finally, he backed off.

“You win, I will kill him another day.” Gwidion snarled.

 

[wanna_be]

Tanith steps back as the blade appears as if from nowhere. She's seen the Sidhe in battle before and has no wish to get involved in the conflict between these two. Like several of the other Sidhe she found herself a mere observer as the two powerful individuals spat insults at each other. It is fortunate that they do not remain so as a blonde haired Sidhe sends his own blade to halt the killing strike Gwydion launches.

She raises an eyebrow as the confrontation finally seems to come to a close. "Well I'm glad you two are finished with your dick waving."

Tristin shoots her another dirty look, then turns dramatically and strides away. Mathias watched him go, before bowing his head in a surprisingly respectful manner towards Tanith. Surprised, she turns her attention back to him, dropping her crossed arms. There is a faint ringing sensation as the enchantment in her bracelets returns to dormancy. Gesturing in the direction of Tristin's retreating back, she speaks to Mathias. "It must be fun working for him."

He doesn't rise to it "I simply serve Madam. Now, the King's Chambers."

He turns, gesturing for the two to follow. Tanith falls into step beside Gwydion. "Well that was eventful. Who the fuck was he?"