| Welcome The township you have come to lies in the turbulent middle grounds between two kingdoms that have ever been at odds- you're welcome to rest your weary feet and wash the dust from the road away with a flagon of ale if you wish, though if you are to stay longer, ye might be choosing your allies wisely. Both kingdoms have their merits and their downfalls, the choice is yours. Or perhaps your allegiance is better suited to the isle some call holy, that which is hidden in mists and mystery. Introduce yourself, stranger. As for you, what are you waiting for, you know your way in! |
| -= Restless Awake, Restless Aslumber =-; Alain | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 3 2018, 01:46 AM (427 Views) | |
| Rhiannon | Jan 3 2018, 01:46 AM Post #1 |
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Knight
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After taking her leave of the king and their new guest, Rhiannon had traveled quickly and quietly through the halls she now well remembered to the stairs that would lead up to the healer's tower. Pausing at the base, she had to consciously quell an uneasy feeling in her stomach before continuing up them. She hated the tower, still. It wasn't fair to Tamsin, his skills were indispensable and he a good man, but it didn't block the memory of that tower being the last thing she'd seen before her death. It was something that didn't really fade. Her desire to see her brother helped push the unease aside, though and she was rewarded the uncomfortable climb to see her twin shifting restlessly in his bed. Frowning slightly, she reminded herself that any movement or vocalizing at all was a good sign, when up until now his consciousness was in doubt of returning at all so long he'd been at rest. Sending a word with one of the healer's attendants to tell Tamsin she was here when he was seen next, she then took up a seat next to Alain's bedside. Pulling the low chair closer, she sat with her back to the door, facing the distressed man who had for the longer part of their lives been the true other half of her. Taking his hand gently between hers, she noted it's warmth- far warmer than she but not so much as to cause alarm. His fitfulness was from something else, something further yet nearer. Hawdd, brawd. Hawdd. Rydw i'n iawn yma. She said, softly, offering what comfort she could, if she could. For their differences, they always did have each others' best interests at heart. |
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| Alain Pendragon | Jan 3 2018, 04:13 AM Post #2 |
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Druid
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He was flying again. Soaring through the skies of Fincayra once more. From village to town he went, and at each he found a welcome as warm as the mother's embrace he never knew. The Merlin returned they called him, but he was not. That was his uncle's title. His mother's people knew he was not the same Prince which freed them from their tyrant King and restored their wings, but they bestowed on him the Honorific all the same. In both lands he bore the blood of a king, but it was only here where he was greeted with such warmth and dignity. Every region he traveled to, Alain, son of the Pendragon and grandson of King Stangmar, played his harp, healed the sick, and feasted with the population. The Seven Songs were almost offering themselves up to him, and it was the best time of his life...well afterlife. After two years he finally found a traveling companion. The tall blonde figure seemed so out of place in the lands of Fincayra, but there were many who knew him, and he was held in much esteem by the head men of many villages. The pair, Annatar and Alain, traveled and became close. Sharing everything between them, all that they had and were. Until one day... The skies grew dark and a wind howled over the island, as had not been heard in an age. Far to the west a tempest blew, and it was then Alain knew he had forgotten his mission. His sister's soul, which he had first crossed over to find a way to save, had been stolen. Even still, it was as beyond his power to summon her to him, as it was for him to return to her. Flying against the wend, the couple searched the shores of the speaking shells, for one which might know the way. It was Annatar who discovered the answer and shared the secret way between the worlds with Alain. In the ripping of the wind and cutting rain, they shared a last embrace before Alain took flight and chased after the source of the storm. Battling against the elements in his attempt to return to Rhiannon. It was at this point in his dream when Rhi came to her brother's side. The words she spoke seemed to bring a calm to his face for a moment, only for him to pass again into an even more violent fit in his attempt to return to her. There was a cruel laughter ringing in his head, and foul red eyes seemed to follow him through the mist and storm... |
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| Rhiannon | Jan 3 2018, 06:18 AM Post #3 |
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Knight
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The momentary respite from whatever was tormenting him loosened her chest some, but when he began again with a renewed fervor, she was at a slight loss as to what to do. She had two options, she figured as she took hold of his other hand at the wrist and held them to his lower chest, keeping his center of mass as still as she could. He was putting up a fair struggle despite having been unconscious for an indeterminable amount of time. She could try and wake him fully and dispel whatever had grasped his mind, which had its benefits and draw backs, or, try to coax him away from it on his own. When a mind was so fully entrenched in something, either a memory, a dream or some other phantom, it was sometimes damaging to force them awake, so she opted to try a less abrasive manner of waking him than lightly slapping his cheek until he focused on her. Alain- Alain! Listen to me, cu. I'm right here and whatever it is will have to get through me if it wants to steal any more of your mind. It was a threat she could back up physically, though she knew it only held partial weight in terms of what could be plaguing her twin. He'd always been more sensitive to their magical heritage, had nurtured it in a way she never could do properly. While his struggling didn't diminish markedly he did turn his head toward her more, but as soon as she stopped taking he began shaking his head again, as if negating what she said or returning to some restless search. Releasing one of her hands from his, she put it gently to his cheek and firmly turned his head to face her. And offered the only comfort she could remember from when they were children, something she'd done for her own children without ever knowing if they could hear her. She sung the same old song of their mother's home, that lost island long veiled in mist and melded into the one now called holy. Ending the first verse she passed her thumb over his sharp cheekbone, eyes nearly sapphire in their blueness studying his expression carefully, with concern. Let it go, Alain. Come to me, and let it be. Her voice was softer in her request, before picking up the old tune again, the words sounding even more harsh and foreign than the native tongue of their youth. How ironic it would be should she be aware that in her efforts to bring his focus to her, she was asking him to give up his own search for her. It would make sense to her, in a way. If you didn't let go of things, sometimes, you got dragged. A lesson she may do well in learning some day. |
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| Annatar | Jan 3 2018, 08:48 PM Post #4 |
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Silversmith
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The smith lingered in the throne room as the knight made her parting from her liege lord. Following Rhiannon as she exited, Annatar halved his pace once they reached the tower of healing. The woman's voice echoed down the empty passage. Her first words to her brother brought a smile, or was it a smirk, to the man's face. As the intoned words of the ballad of Fincayra were voiced any shadow of a smile fell and a mask of stone replaced it. Entering the chamber, he crossed to the other side of the bed from Rhi, standing next to the patient's head. Excuse me...m'lady, but what if he is not the one doing the holding? The words were said knowingly but without the easily implied condescension. On the bed below, Alain started with the sound of the male's voice. Neck thrown back and chest bowed up from the bed. Then in almost the same moment, the druid's form collapsed and the fit ended. He was once more as he had been for weeks; unresponsive. |
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| Rhiannon | Jan 4 2018, 02:26 AM Post #5 |
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Knight
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Rhiannon's focus had narrowed not just to her brother but to his restless soul, as best it could at least. It was scattered, frantic almost in whatever search or escape mode it was in, almost impossible to really pin down. He was starting to respond to her, in little ways- his eyes had slowed down in their darting to and fro under his lids, she no longer had to hold his head still to keep him facing her, little things. As soon as the fair stranger entered the room, Alain's chin slipped her grasp as his fit resumed its former intensity. Annatar's question pulled her gaze from her twin to his face, sharply, though Alain's sudden seize and lapse into a responseless state caused it to fall again. Exhaling roughly, Rhi tried to keep a lid on her temper, though the unexpected break in her focus did little but exacerbate her. Brushing a damp, wild bit of Alain's forelock from his face, she stood up to face the smith across the bed. Then I suppose I'll have to find the one who is and release him from their hold myself. Any softness her features had held for her brother had turned as sharp as her voice. Without waiting for any kind of response, she turned abruptly and crossed the tower's open floor to where the healer kept a stock of small cloths and basins, she returning a moment later with a basin of still mostly warm water and a handful of cloths. Setting them on the bedside table, she took a seat on the bed beside Alain and wrung a cloth out in the basin. Setting the cloth to his forehead and brushing the hair aside, she took a steadying breath before addressing the blond man. I apologize for projecting my frustration on you, Annatar. I can't help but bear guilt that part of this is my doing- he disappeared the night he tried to get us, me back to Avalon. And being unable to do anything to help him draws on me. It wasn't fair for her to take her anger out on the man who'd brought he brother back to her. The fact his entrance had broken her focus was as much her fault as his. She was well out of practice in the arts of her mother's people, that was a fault all her own. |
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| Alain Pendragon | Jan 4 2018, 02:45 AM Post #6 |
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Druid
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The woman's sharp words seemed to bounce from him like arrows against stone. Watching coolly as she twice crossed the chamber, Annatar moved only his eyes as he traced he movements. Alain's face softened with his sister's cooling touch, but only slightly, had one not been watching, no difference would have appeared to taken place. With Rhiannon's apology, the smith finally lowered himself into a crouching position. His eyes now fixed upon Alain, with a sense of concern upon him. Tell me, how did it happen? Perhaps if we figure out the cause, we might be closer to a cure... The words were said without accusation, but also missing concern; mostly the man's tone held curiosity, though not eagerness. Though as he spoke, Annatar's hands took Alain's within them. As the smith caressed the druid's warm skin, the latter gripped the former's hand in return. Cariad The word was hollow and unvoiced, but unmistakable, and it came from Alain. |
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| Rhiannon | Jan 4 2018, 03:15 AM Post #7 |
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Knight
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Alain's slight relaxation gave her some comfort, though his reaction to the smith taking his hands stirred a conflicted form of reassurance. Clearly her bother took comfort from the man's presence, the affectionate nickname spoken so low it was barely audible proved that, though the man's strangeness to her did little to engender any comfort for her. Removing the cloth from his forehead to wash his neck of the nervous sweat he'd worked himself into through his fit, she contemplated the question gave to her. She could remember most of the night, surely, though whether she could make sense of it, and whether she felt comfortable divulging so much detail to a stranger would be the true deliberation. Concern fed curiosity, or was it the other way around? Slipping on the comfortable tread of reservation of not only emotion (when she could) but information, she replied. In all truth, I've not much in terms of the how or why persay. Merely the what. He'd entered the lake before me, my guess is to split the veil for our passage. He was convinced whatever healing I needed to cure what ailed me lay on that side and not this, that much I'm sure of. Perhaps I was too late in joining him, perhaps the Lake wouldn't have me. All I know is I'd barely set foot into the shallows and my head felt like it would split, and what memory gaps I had filled in enough for me to know I'd left my children behind- left them and my husband with no word of parting. And I couldn't bare it- not a second time. Swallowing some she wrung the cloth out again and laid it on the lip of the basin. Leaving her twin's hands to the smith's hold, she stood, pulling the king's cloak closer to her chilled form as she finished what tale she had left. The last I saw of him was him waist deep in black water, Carnwenhau in his hands and the old tongue on his lips. I slipped free of my nephew's hold, went for the horse we'd taken, and ran. Ran home. There was a bit of roughness in the trip home, several small details with held, but none of them things she felt pertinent enough to what the smith had asked. |
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| Annatar | Jan 5 2018, 10:12 PM Post #8 |
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Silversmith
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Listening to the woman's reply, his gaze remained on the man in the bed whilst she told her tale. That is until the blade was named, when Annatar's eyes met Rhiannon's. Little was given away as to why its mention would solicit such a reaction, but the reaction was evident. When he spoke, the smith's voice was cold, and just this side of accusatory. So, in truth, you do not know what happened to him. Nor who or what might have done it....pity With that he once again turned to Alain. Releasing both of his hands to rest at the sleeping man's sides once more, he rose. I should see what I can discover, though the trail by now must be cold. But it is better than hope and words alone. ((OOC: leaving it open here, so she can reply if you want. or he can just leave without further comment.)) |
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| Rhiannon | Jan 6 2018, 02:21 AM Post #9 |
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Knight
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Any peculiarity she saw in Annatar's piqued interest at the named blade was brushed aside with his comment. Her back stiffened some, but she held her tongue from it's immediate reaction. She blamed herself enough for her brother's condition, even though when she'd left, she'd left him with family, and on his way to an isle that was always more home to him than her- there should have been no threat there. Nothing that would have caused this. But, she'd been wrong, and this was the result. While what he had said wasn't wrong, Rhi wasn't keen on the slightly accusatory tone the smith used. The man's interest seemed to have shifted from the dagger to the druid reposed between them. If he was so keen on playing bloodhound, all the better. It wasn't like anything she'd looked into had panned out yet. Bending at the waist to leave a kiss on Alain's forehead, she collected the basin and cloth before turning to speak to the smith, just as he was turning to leave. If anyone might be able to give you more useful information, it would be my nephew, Mordred. Perhaps someone more active in the old ways will illicit a more prompt response from him. She'd sent word to Mordred, alerting him to Alain's condition as soon as he was brought to the castle, but, the young man held his own accords and loyalties, and while he'd come to Pyralis' aid before, he made no qualms that his primary duty was to Avalon. Maybe if this smith had traveled with her brother through Avalon, even only a little, Mordred would be more willing to answer him. Nodding her head stiffly, but politely, she went to return the supplies to one of the healer's assistants. |
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