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Faeirex and Rhylin
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Date Posted: 17:27:44 07/09/02 Tue
The steady rhythm of her stride was interrupted by a small figure who narrowly missed rushing into her in his haste to reach his destination. She registered his apology almost before she had even adknowledged his appearance, and began to apologise gracefully herself, before eyes managed to make contact with mind and announce the presence of a faery. Her musical voice died quickly, to be replaced by a steely glare.
"No really, it was my fault. Are you alright?" He looked up into hard blue orbs; saw the loathing there; "Please forgive me. I'll be more careful in future..." The beautiful face remained still and Rhylin felt his confidence dwindling. "I...well...sorry...I have to go."
He made to leave and almost collapsed as the vision overwhelmed him.
"Well girly you gave us a good run for our money. There's nowhere left to go now though."
The woman glares at him and lets loose another arrow which lodges in the chest of a young man, who falls from his horse next to the hooves of another. The second rider, tears streaming from his eyes, yells heartbroken at the cornered woman, "You bitc..."
"Leave it Leon."
"Sir!"
"That was her last arrow. It seems your brother managed to achieve something with his death, though he was a useless lump in life." The gruff leader dismounts as he walks toward the dark haired girl who still stands defiantly.
"You have killed many of my men" his voice is scarily calm as his fist flys into her face. A delicate trickle of blood runs from her mouth but still she stands; eyes blazing.
"So brave? Wait till night," he leers at her.
"Leon; bind her hands." The grieving youth moves over to where the lady stands. No one watches as the dagger slides between ribs and pierces her heart.
"I loved my brother, useless as he was," he mutters letting her body drop.
Rhylin's eyes opened on the same woman's form bending over him. He cursed softly before trying in vain to push himself into a roughly vertical position.
"You should rest" Faeirex murmured softly. "No matter where you need to be, it's not worth risking your sanity over. You're too weak right now to leave your mind open to Hfäinién."
"I'm fine," he lied. "I just need to get back to Laeriel. This has happens too often for it to bother me. She's not used to them though. She's worth my sanity." He pushed himself to his feet weakly. "I'm so sorry."
So even the plucky little faery girl had found love. Faeirex bit her lower lip gently, glancing away. She struggled with the inner argument going on inside herself. Much as she may hate faeries, the man hadn't done anything to her. And if she let him leave, he could easily collapse again. It wouldn't just be him she hurt, but Laeriel also. Who she had already been unforgiveably rude to.
It was important for her to go to the throne room, but that could wait for a time. After what she had just made happen, nobody would be going anywhere for a while. And suddenly there was something that she had to know, before she went. She hadn't realised until now just how important it was to her. This could be her last chance to find out.
"She can wait" she told him firmly. Trying to support his weight as best she could with her slim form, she half guided, half pushed him towards the nearest door, and into a chair. Glancing round for a cup of some sort, she removed an antique golden goblet from a glass-fronted cabinet. From the looks of it, it was several hundred years old. Oh well, she shrugged. Fixing her gaze on it she condensed water straight from the air into the vessel, then brought it to his lips. "Drink"
As Rhylin drank he tried to watch the lady without appearing to. She was obviously incredibly powerful, there had certainly not been any water in the cup when she had removed it. More disturbing was her knowledge of Hfäinién. She was too tall for a faery; her presence too overwhelming. He sipped the water he did not want quietly feeling like a child.
She wandered about the room restlessly, unsure of how to carry herself. It was hard to put several thousand years of hatred behind her even for this one meeting. And he didn't seem any more comfortable than she did. They were both defensive of their positions, and it was unlikely that there was any middle ground they could meet on. It was one of the few times in her life Faeirex had ever wished Aralias was with her. For all his faults, he always knew exactly what to say.
Finally, she gave in and seated herself cross-legged at his feet, placing him in the position of power. Twisting a strand of her dark hair around her fingers she looked up at him through dark lashes, suddenly seeming absurdly young for the finery she wore.
"The vision caused you pain." she said simply. "You cried out many times. What did you see?"
"Nothing of importance. If you know of Hfainien you know that the visions it bring are always accompanied by agony."
She smiled wryly. "By which you mean that it is not my buisness to ask, and you have no intention to tell me."
It was never a good idea to tell anyone of their own death. "I didn't mean it was none of your business I mearly meant it would not interest you."
"As you wish." she said calmly. The awkward silence in the room lingered for another spell, as each of them struggled to think of something to say. Faeirex released her grip on her hair and began to play with the hem of her gown. Gathering together her courage she raised her eyes to his again, head slightly tilted to one side in an ingenuous manner. "I need to ask you something." she confessed, face artlessly trusting.
"Ask anything. You have been extreamly kind to me. It is the least I can do."
"Thank you." She searched for the right words. "If a faery..." she began haltingly, "..such as King Cellius...were to...have a vision," she stared up at him appealingly, "do they always come true? can they ever be averted?" the words came out in a rush. As she waited for him to reply she tore her gaze away and looked down, trying not to let him see how much his answer mattered.
"Faery visions are always truthful. The interpretations of those visions however are massivly flexible they depend of the faery in question rather than Hfainian and are therefore often incorrect. Our king however has rarely been proved wrong. It is odd that you chose to ask about him. Have you met Cellius?"
“Faeirex, before you leave, there’s something you need to know.”
Cellius stood commandingly in front of her. He was taller than most faeries, yet still shorter than the she-elf by a full head. Despite his diminutive size though, his regal bearing and noble air lent him the appearance of a height far greater than any he could lay claim to. Next to him, Faeirex looked the child that, in elven years, she was. Headstrong, rash and uncoordinated. Affectionately she threw her arms around the faery king's neck. He detached her gently and gazed upon her paternally. "I really think you should sit down." Curiously, she nodded and took a seat on a beautifully carved wooden chair. "What is it?"
He sat next to her and cleared his throat. "I've had a vision."
"And..."
"It's about you."
His sombre tone made her nervous. "Cellius, what did you see?"
Very reluctantly, he spoke. "Death. I saw you kill. Again, and again, and again. You're going to become a destructive power greater than anything I've ever seen before. Greater than anything this world has ever known, save Morgoth himself." She remained still, in a shocked silence. He reached out and took her hand. "I'm sorry Faeirex. I thought you should know."
She pulled away sharply. "I won't." her voice shook. "I won't become like that. Nobody can make me be like that." she turned to him urgently. "How can I stop it? You've got to help me Cellius," she begged.
He shook his head pityingly. "Not even you can prevent this Fae. How can you go against your own nature?"
"I can try. What do I have to do?"
"Never fall in love."
She stared at him, aghast. "What do you mean?"
"From your love will come death." he whispered softly. "It will be through love that your greatest power comes, and you will rain destruction on all those around you."
She stood up sharply, knocking over the chair. It hit the ground with a loud clatter. Shaking her head furiously she began to cry. "No..."
Cellius stood up and reached out to comfort her. She pushed him away fiercely. "Don't touch me! Don't even come near me! Why did you have to tell me this? What right did you have to take away any chance of happiness I ever had?"
"Faeirex..." he began helplessly.
It was too late. In a few words, the fragile trust the she-elf had placed in him had been swept away, to be replaced by a burning anger. He could understand her pain, even understand why she blamed him. Who else was there? But she had gone too far away from him to reach, spiralling quickly out of control. The wind began to pick up as the blocks between her emotion and her power fell away, reflecting the one in the other. Rain fell and a terrible storm raged, with all the burning ferocity of her wrath. And then lightening began to build in the inky black clouds. Horrified, Cellius could only watch as the first bolt struck the towers of his beautiful city, hot enough to make the stone burn. Chaos raged and his people fled in terror as Carenina burned. Through the smoke he caught a glimpse of the slim, beautiful girl who was the cause of the devastation. One look at her face told him that she was no more in control than anybody else. She had lost her grip on her power and didn't know how to pull it back in to her again. She didn't know anything but the mad grief which overcame her. Their eyes met just once and he saw the hate there, before she turned and walked away, leaving the storm broiling behind her. He never saw her again.
Without expecting any success he asked again, "are you alright?"
"She pulled herself back from her memories and tried to compose herself. "I'll be fine. I'm sorry- I don't know what came over me."
"I'm afraid there's no water left but I can get you some if you want." He felt vaguely uneasy as he tried to comfort the young woman. Without knowing either her ailment or her name he had little chance of being able to reach out to her. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Nothing. You can't change the past, and I can't change the future. Therefore we are both helpless."
He sensed that there was more she was not telling him; something concerning the king's vision but it was not in him to inquire further. So he sat woodenly and waited for her to recover.
So it had been confirmed. Cellius had been right. The burden he had lain upon her could not be removed. From your love will come death. And not just when she loved. All who had loved her were now dead as well, beyond her reach. And for her the future looked bleak. She couldn't pretend that Cellius had been wrong any more. The realities were all to clear. No matter what, she couldn't risk love. Ever.
She had nothing to lose now. Whatever happened, she would have to leave here now anyway. The boy, what was his name, Vomyr? She had to remove herself from his presence, and from Legolas as well, if Lia was right. So she might as well do as she was supposed to. It wasn't as if it would make much difference.
Suddenly, she stood up, shaking dust from her skirts violently. "I...I have to go." she muttered, before swinging from the room and leaving him alone.
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