"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
If she didn't have Yael with her, Cam would have appeared right next to Eight, or as a bathing beauty in some nearby stream in the middle of the Valley. She'd have had no compunctions whatsoever about suddenly popping up in the land, because Eight would know it for what it was – a visit from her, just her, a reunion that's been a long time coming.
But as it is, it's going to be exactly the opposite. She is absolutely not ready to let Yael know the relationship that she and Eight have, and to that end, it's going to be very much like two high schoolers on a field trip under the watchful eye of a nun. Don't misunderstand, she doesn't begrudge Yael coming along – she'd love for the mare to see what the Valley's become, see that they're a worthy ally, and one day help Pevensie see it too. Goodness knows, both Camrynn and Eight want to draw their kingdoms closer, although their reasons have little to do with diplomacy.
It just doesn't do to NOT fully support your lover's kingdom, ya know?
She and Yael have flown here, Camrynn growing resplendent wings with red, gold, and black feathers just for the purpose. It's a lovely day for a flight, and she enjoys it. If it had been anywhere else but the Valley, she might have even be sad to see their flight end. But she knows that Eight is here, knows that he's in residence here, and she can't wait to see him again.
She isn't (never has been and never will be) the kind of mare who pines, the kind of mare who sits at home and waits for her man to return. She's far too proactive for that, and she knows that's part of why he loves her. But at the same time, it's been a long time since they've seen each other, and she is glad that it's about to end.
Even if they need to keep the meeting as tame as possible for Yael's sake.
Perhaps the golden mare could try to seek out the abstract true memory of Camrynn and Eight's relationship. Perhaps she could find something out without digging through their minds. But their love was born and nourished in a secret cave carved into the heart of mountains, a place that no one but the two of them (and Evrae) has ever seen. Yael would most likely have to dive into Camrynn's mind or Eight's to pick out the truth of the relationship – and she doubts the golden woman is willing to do that.
And so she lands, folding the beautiful wings to her sides. She looks little different since the last time they met, still black and beautiful, mane and tail long and free of tangles. She still wears his diamonds proud upon her cheek. But now she also wears a gilded crook-and-flail proud and golden across her chest. This is the mark she was given during the Deserts throne competition, the mark that defined her as a finalist, and she finds it suits her nicely as a ruler.
She looks to Yael with a quiet glance and a small smile, wondering what the woman thinks about being here. And then, in a private conversation that Yael will not be able to overhear, she reaches out telepathically to Eight. Honey, I'm home. she teases, her mental voice every bit as velvety as her real one, her tone playful, gentle, flirtatious, and with an undercurrent of the strange deep love they share all rolled into one. I did have to bring a chaperone. she says with a mental chuckle, sending him the gentle knowledge of Yael's presence. We're on an official visit from the Deserts. But you and I should really talk after – we've got so much to discuss.
And with that she is silent. She knows he'll know, and she knows he'll come.
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
Really?! A nun? Yael would have Cam know that she has Yael all wrong in both this regard and her view of the Valley. If there is anything the golden woman understands, it is the power of love and what it can accomplish. Has she not birthed six children? Has she not loved two men? Does she not still mourn her lost dragon, sleeping under the overarching embrace of his tree’s protective boughs?
As for the Valley, she has only ever disapproved of its rulers. Elite was a mass-murderer, killing her own former Queen, Krys. Kars was a murderer as well, killer of Queen Lea and overall lackluster leader that never gave them any reason to ally. Sinder and Oxytocin were quite simply, rude and incompetent. They heaped excuse upon excuse for their insults and till the day Vanquish died, there were grudges between the two kingdoms. Not to mention the fact that Lokii had attacked Yael while she was pregnant with the triplets, and Oxy had done nothing about it, proving that he had little regard for anything resembling diplomacy. There was nothing but ill will and bad feelings for sixteen years between the Valley and the Desert, and it all stemmed from the war and personality flaws.
That doesn’t mean that Yael still holds a grudge. If Eight offered them an olive branch and good reason to put aside old enmities, Yael would give him every opportunity to prove her assumptions wrong.
Camrynn might be surprised to find out the extent of Yael’s understanding. She’s not entirely unobservant, you know. Just terribly polite. Most of the time.
Yael took to the sky only couple of seconds after Cam, silently deciding that she wanted to go too. She’s never actually been to the Valley - even when they were at war, she remained in the Desert to keep it safe from any side attack. Yael was not a warrior, not in the conventional sense. She wouldn’t hesitate to protect, to put down the threat as quickly as possible, but she was more of the defensive mindset. The two of them flew through the sky on great wings, creating quite the striking pair; gold and silver, black and red and gold, and ever so briefly she is taken back to the days of Nocturnal. She remembers the dragons - the black one and the rose-gold one, the shifter and the then-resident magician. My, how history repeats itself…
When they draw close, Yael puts up her mind-shield. They are all magicians, and while she has self-imposed rules of courtesy (and is fairly certain that Cam wouldn’t try to pry into her mind), she has no idea whether or not Eight would. How strong were their magiks? Especially in respect to one another - who was oldest and strongest? If push came to shove, who would end up the victor? She knew Morphine had been one of the first magicians, somewhere on par with Evrae, but she didn’t know if that strength was echoed in her magic. To be sure, she was the least practiced… ah, it makes her head throb just thinking about the intricacies of it all. They land, and Yael gently probes the area to see who might be around, never leaping into anyone’s heads, merely feeling out the situation.
To break the silence, she murmurs to Cam rather wryly, “Vould you believ z’at een all my time xere, I haf never been to ze Valley? T’ey’ve alvays come to us.” Which, of course, was more than telling about the relationships of the past. She looks around with genuine interest; for all that it burned in dragonfire some twelve (or more) years ago, the re-growth was going well. Even after all the disasters. She can feel the disruption of the land here, but the magic of the land seems to feed off the disruption instead of being lessened by it. It was wild and vicious and coy, and so unlike the strong serenity of the Desert.
Diplomacy had never been Eight’s strong point – at least, not during his first go at being a king. In the days of the Chamber, Eight had been a vaporous shadow, fucked up to the nines and never interested in ties or alliances. His second go around was equally as fleeting – holding the Dale as a vassal of the Chamber. Well, the third time’s the charm – right? His third time, carrying the crown of the Valley, seemed to go a bit better. Diplomacy had finally caught up to him – he was no longer a young, hundred year old boy. He was older now, wiser, and stronger in his power and intelligence. His 129th birthday was quickly approaching, he was no longer a doe-eyed boy frolicking through the world (although, was he ever so vapid?)
He knew when they had decided – their two stately bodies side by side in the waning sun of the Deserts. He had felt the decision resonate in Camrynn’s mind- the idea that she would come home to him. (Home, in the sense that he is the only mirror to have seen her natural state). He had seen them taking flight, their wings cutting into the blue sky and the filtering clouds – he saw them coming to him, and the land he had revived.
It had been quite some time. Again, he had disappeared into the shadows –pulled by the ever present nature of his personality to just.. well, want to be alone. Eight was never a people person. Yes, he courted the females – playing up to their desires and wishes, dancing with them through intricacies of magic and pining. He played the part, the vicious magician- the one people sought out, for favors or entertainment, power hungry and salivating for more (more children, more magic, more might). Yes, he met them all, spoke with them, wooed them, deceived them, and more. But truly? Well truly, Eight wanted none of it. He was a loner, really. He didn’t truly belong anywhere, even here.
And so again, he had faded – away from the Valley, away from the laws of the land, and away from Camrynn – so soon after the beginning of their tryst. Their romance (?) that had sparked so suddenly, so curiously out of nothing (except perhaps the mutual understanding that there were so few many like them in the world? Or maybe, more? One could never be sure why romance flourished.), and was very much a secret. No one, actually, knew of Eight and Camrynn- it was strange, to behold feelings that no one else knew of, a secret whispering amongst the barren lands, a solitary drop of intimacy in the rushed life of Beqanna. And so with Yael in the air, Eight knew Camrynn would not quite be who she was when she was naked before him.
What a meeting – three magical beings all in one place. Perhaps this was the first time in decades that this had happened, that magicians of the land stepped into line together. It seemed that most of the rulers currently had some form of magic – Errant of the Tundra, the Desert’s hierarchy, the Valley’s, and even the Dale’s in a way. But here was the trifecta – and quite a mix it was. Who did have the strongest magic? One could not say. Eight was the oldest, born with magic from the very first moments of his life. Morphine was amongst the oldest magicians, but did that sort of power carrying down, once magic was transferred? Or was it strongest when it formed with you in utero, creating the very body you first breathe in.
Would this meeting bring fate to its knees? Would it end up in a test of magical prowess? A show of who could out-smite who? Or perhaps it would end in one of the most powerful trifectas of all. Only time would tell.
Eight waits, knowing that soon enough he would feel the two women entering the edges of the Valley. And true enough, he did. The magical border thrummed in his mind as their bodies entered the surrounding land. As it did, Camrynn’s voice reached out to him, weaving into his mind. Her words were wrought with the playful smirk she often carried when talking to him, it was comforting – a voice he had not heard in quite some time now.
They land, and Yael toes the line to the Valley, which resonates in Eight’s mind with a small throbbing – the land letting him know that someone is here.
He appears, sliding out of thin air, his body appearing bit by bit. It is not a show of power or impression – they are all magicians here, they can each manipulate the world and the inhabitants around them (although they each choose to wield their power in a different way). “Yael. Camrynn. Welcome.” He nods genially to each of them, and then speaks to Camrynn’s mind “I knew you just wouldn’t be able to stay away from me. Welcome home, my queen.” His voice, of course, is riddled with the playful jests that they normally carry. He gives no effort to barricade his mind, although he is sure to telepathically communicate just on a channel with Camrynn. There is no need for secrets here – no need to be defensive, unless attacked upon. “I assumed I would be receiving a visit from the Deserts soon enough. Camrynn, congratulations on your position. Yael, you must be enjoying semi-retirement.” He spoke practically, straight forward – amiable, but not overzealous. He knew most of these meetings carried courtesies and common practice, but it was no secret why they came – what was any beginning diplomatic meeting for? “I presume we’re here today to talk about alliances, plans, and intentions?” Perhaps the truth of Camrynn and he would envelop here, a counterpart of an intended alliance. “Here at the Valley, we are allied with the Chamber – where I had enabled Straia in ruling.” He was quite blunt about it all – secrets of this kind weren’t truly his thing.
It was true, the Deserts and the Valley had never quite had the best of histories. That isn’t to say that the future could not be changed – but there was malice between the two in the past, that could not be changed. However, the tidings of rulers had changed – and there was no ill-will between the rulers of the Deserts and Valley. In fact, if anything, they were tied by intimacy – quite a change from the decades past. “I assume you may already have ties of your own? In the Deserts. Or perhaps, intend to create some?”
∞
and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in
05-16-2015, 10:54 PM (This post was last modified: 05-16-2015, 11:01 PM by Camrynn.)
so you wanna play with magic?
"Never even once?" she replies to Yael easily, entirely untroubled by holding a mental conversation at the same time as a physical one. "I wasn't born here, but I stayed here for a time when I was growing up. Many, many years ago." she smiles at Yael. She doesn't actually think the gold woman is a nun – it's just a metaphor, one that anyone hiding a secret knows all too well. "My grandmother and father both ruled here too, long ago." she pauses, correcting herself. "Well, my grandmother ruled long ago, but she lives here still. I'm sure she's around, somewhere."
He slides out of the air and greets them by name, and she gives him a small nod. Moments later, his voice floods into her mind and it's like cool, clear water. Everything about it is familiar, the teasing tones, the gentle warmth, it's them, condensed into a few words whispered from mind to mind, just as her words had been them, condensed, too. The ghost of a smile plays on her lips, fading almost before it exists.
It isn't lost on her, just how much power is contained in this meeting. They may all wield that power differently, each in their own way, with varying degrees of flash and circumstance – but it's no mistake that they all wield it. And my god, if all three of them were to wield their powers in one concerted effort…well, who could stand in their way?
The thought is both terrifying and exhilarating.
He speaks again, every bit as courteous as you'd want any ruler to be, giving her the congratulations that must be given – although she knows he means it. She gives him a smile, and the light seems to strike the diamonds and gemstones along her cheek (his diamonds and gemstones) with a particularly strong radiance. "Thank you, Eight." her voice is velvet and silk.
He dives right in, then, to the meat of the conversation. She truly has no idea how it will unfold. Of course both of them would favor tying their kingdoms closer together, but the history is quite an object to overcome. She understands Yael's forgiving nature; it's Pevensie's that she questions. The Valley has done much wrong in its recent (and not so recent) history, but if anyone can be persuaded to consider wiping clean the slate, isn't it the lights? She nods, confirming his assumption – they're here on business.
He tells them of the Chamber, and it doesn't surprise Camrynn. She has known most of his maneuvering (just as she knows of the conversation he has with Lagertha, and just as he would know of the conversation she has with Lokii in the meadow). They hide very little from each other; such is the result of the moment she'd gently blended their magic, such is the nature of magical romance.
Or, y'know, whatever you want to call the two of them. Carnage and Gail aren't the only undefinables around here.
"That was well done." she speaks, referring to the business with the Chamber. "Straia seems an able leader, and the Chamber breathes with life again. And I trust Rodrik is enjoying your hospitality." she says the last with a smile, knowing that the man is, in fact, more or less free within the borders of the Valley at the moment. She'd reached out to him, once, when she'd first come to Beqanna, but he had been too preoccupied with fading away to reach back.
He speaks again, a final time, and she gives him a small smile. "Aren't there always ties?" her grin is wry, and her words teasing. Of course, she's speaking with double meaning – the Deserts has ties, Camrynn and Eight have ties, even Yael has ties through the history of the past to the Valley, although she's never seen it. Her grin fades and she grows serious. "The Deserts have voted to ally with the Amazons." She pauses for a moment. "Scorch pressed for sister kingdoms, but our people were not willing to go closer than alliance."
She pauses again, thinking about how much she wants to say to Eight in front of Yael. She trusts Eight implicitly – not only that, but he already knows everything she'd say, just as she knows everything he might say. They are connected so deeply, it's almost a foolish charade to pretend otherwise. She's beginning to wonder if revealing the relationship might be wise after all. She pockets that thought, willing to revisit it later in the discussion. "But I'm not sure that the Deserts should rest on only one alliance. Any single kingdom can be so…tumultuous." she says, and of course she means Scorch.
She walks past him then, striding into the borders of the Valley with confidence. She is perhaps a hair too close, just close enough that the wind can conveniently drift her tail to touch his front legs as she walks by, just close enough that the tips of the wings she grew for the flight over (and has continued to keep because she's kinda fond of them) might brush just ever so slightly along the tips of Eight's wings - in short, close enough that they can feel the magnetic nature of closeness, but not enough that they'll be satisfied with touch. It's all a part of the game that is them.
She looks out into the land for a moment, regarding it silently before turning back around so they are a conversation group again. "And what does the Valley think? Are you seeking new ties, or are you content with the Chamber?"
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
Before Yael had magic, she briefly had empathy and healing, and was privy to the auras of others. Magic has only accentuated this ability, and she has found that she relies more on this than mind-reading to feel out a situation. It is less invasive, she thinks, and often easier to handle the situation by knowing someone’s general feeling than their specific thoughts. For some reason, saying exactly what someone wants to hear can be creepy…. but giving the general sense of understanding is not.
And of course, she is not stupid. Where there should have been a distance between the two monarchs, they are… uncommonly close; wing-tips touching is not something two strangers do. Yet the golden woman does not frown, she does not explode in anger. Instead, she turns on the aura-vision to verifty the inklings that are creeping into her mind.
Good. All the better. They will not betray each other and Cam will not betray the Desert. They glow subtly with a lustful, deep red to the edges of their dark coats. There is a sort of.. silvery gold haze between the two of them that does not exist between Eight and Yael, or Yael and Cam. She’s seen it before, and she knows what it means, but the little golden mare will play dumb for awhile. Let them have their fun - it is more reassuring to her than a threat.
“I vould xardly call eet retirement… but yes, eet ees nice to be on ze sidelines again. I xaf to deel vit less eedeeots t’at vay.” She chuckles lightly, a tinkling sound in the back of her throat before moving on to business. Only those who have ruled could know what it was like. “I agree vit Cam regarding Alliances. Xoomever ees most powerful, I vould like to ally vit. Eef my family returns to ze Falls, I vould like to ally vit t’em too… but ozer t’an zat… I do not see reason to promise our streng’t and aid to everyvone.”
Being the ultimate benevolent force in Beqanna had done them well for a time. But it did not stop death, and it did not quell the other side of Yael. Kellyn, so far away in the Field, says she kept waiting for Yael’s other side to show. Everyone has two sides, that is true, but Yael’s would not be revealing itself for awhile. And even then, not in a particularly vicious manner. Simply.. slightly more aggressive. “One more t’ing. I know t’at vhile ve are full of t’ose vit powers, not all of t’em know xow to use t’em. I vould like to propose a magical set of mocks. One t’at I vould like to parteecipate in as well.”
And then, it was Eight’s turn… and Yael is most interested to see how he will respond. Especially with the aura-vision turned on.
