Teaching Lessons

[Thorin]

Thorin listened to her explain the circumstances with Igraine and the child. If he could never touch them....Gods, he didn't want to think about that. He didn't know what to say to Caela, except nod every once in awhile. “She won't accept me for a very long time. I felt her leave me, when I physically left her world.” Thorin said, acknowledging the hard truth. The day had been an awakening for him, but not one that he wanted to face. He might be in Igraine's life, but he would always be in solitude- away from the life he could have had with her. Thorin would watch her grow with their child and even watch their child grow into an adult- he may never be apart of their life. In the grand scheme of things, he understood that it was his own damnation.

Caela could talk all she wanted about him. Thorin was quite used to rumors and the truth being stretched about his heritage. By the time he had left Igraine, he had supposedly been known for tying her up and drinking her blood- which would explain her weakness to the maids. In truth, the weakness came from the child growing in her- nothing Thorin had done physically to her.

“Just be there for, while you can. I'll be by her side, she just won't be aware of the fact- neither will Morgana, when she is old enough.” Thorin said solemnly. It was with this realization, that he thought he was experiencing a second death. He held his face for a moment, thinking through their next steps. If he saw Igraine with another man in the future, he didn't know how he would be able to contain himself. Having Caela present, might keep his sanity together.

“Let's just go get your kids. The sooner I can return, the calmer I'll be. At least I'll know she safe then.” Thorin said, not doubting the anger that Igraine harbored for him. He wouldn't put it past her, to make sure that Morgana felt the same way when she was older. “I'm not worried about Morgana...I'll introduce myself now and then to her, but she won't know my relations to her.” He paused, grinning at his thoughts. “Her mother will think she's gone crazy with phantoms.”

[Trydian]

Trydian immediately felt the power when he entered the Vuri sanctuary. His uncle must be here, but he wouldn't outright attack him, since he needed him on his side. His mother would be happy to see him, until she realized that he was without Sebilla. He wondered how to break the news to her, having never been very gifted at being sympathetic.

Walking up the steps, he could hear his mother talking with his uncle. His uncle sounded frustrated, but that wasn't his problem at the moment. Opening the door, his expression wouldn't tell the story, but his mood might. After dealing with Jack and giving up his freedom, Trydian wasn't in any kind of mood to be tried for his patience.

“I'm home, Mother.” He let her take that fact in and went to her kitchen to eat something. It was odd, but he realized how famished he actually was. Trydian wasn't the type to be the bearer of bad news, so he was simply blunt about Sebilla's plight. “Sebilla has been taken and I'm to be the Unseelie King's servant. I gave up my soul for her freedom. She should be returning home shortly...just don't let her see me and everything will be fine.” Trydian said logically, suddenly biting into some stray flesh that had been on the table.

Caela understood his mannerism better than anyone. He was actually in a type of shock from everything, but he continued to keep himself in a sort of strange delusion. Unsheathing his blade, she might think he was about to attack her, or Thorin who stood only a few feet away. The chaos blade gleamed, recognizing another master.

“Take the blade...I assume you're my uncle Thorin? The one responsible for this mess...even though I was instructed to harm you, I see no logic in pursuing that battle. You're here with my mother, so she must see some good in you.” Trydian said, feeling himself go numb again. It would be harder giving up the blade, than his own sister, but that was the fact of the matter. Trydian knew that the King might force him to use the blade against a family member. He didn't want to be in its possession and be without conscious thought if something like that should happen.

He handed the blade to Thorin with the hilt facing his uncle. Trydian didn't expect calm reactions from his news, he was beginning to feel faint himself. It was an unusual emotion for someone like Trydian.

[Thorin]

Thorin cursed, feeling his anger rise from Trydian's sudden appearance and the news he shared with him and Caela. What would they do now? They could have used Trydian in the battle, but it would be pointless to try for his freedom now- they needed a bigger plan, something the Unseelie King wouldn't expect.

He noticed that Trydian's feet faltered temporarily, their position wavering. The man was about to faint and he couldn't blame him. Quickly taking the sword, he felt a strange bind with the weapon. The power surged through him, almost as if it was bound internally. The hue from the blade hummed, as if recognizing its new master.

Thorin was overwhelmed, but he was sure that his nephew was in greater distress. He would be serving their enemy, but he didn't know for how long- eternity? Shaking his head, he tried to bring some comfort to Trydian, but he knew that it would be a difficult task. “I will fight in your honor. I can't say that we won't meet at the battlefield.” Thorin felt different, as if the sword gave him a greater purpose. It was just a sword to him, but Trydian acted as if it were his very life source. He watched his nephew trying to hold himself up, his strength failing. While Trydian didn't show any new battle scars, that didn't mean his heart didn't have any.

Trydian simply acknowledged the exchange and fate. He walked past Trydian, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was the only motion needed. Holding the Chaos blade, he wondered how his sister would react. She had lost two children that day, one willingly giving himself up for the other. In the back of his mind, Thorin wondered how many in his family would do that, for the price of someone they cherished.

If he had to fight against Trydian, it would be ironic to use the Chaos blade against him. He didn't want to think of that fate right now, he tried to think of his current journey back to Igraine. For the first time in his life, Thorin was speechless for words.

How many more losses would they endure?

He let Caela have time with her son, but he knew that Trydian would have to return to his new master soon.

It was a fact that Caela would have to live with.

[Igraine]

Everything was happening at once and Caela was in a kind of daze. She saw Trydian starting to falter, and her hands shot out to stabilize him. It was the action of a mother. She leaned against her son, keeping him upright at the table as he slid the sword to his Uncle. Caela leaned her head against her son's neck and kissed his cheek. She buried her face in his hair and inhaled. This was her son, her baby. What had he done? What were they going to do?

"The Unseelie don't give room for error. I understand what you did, Trydian. I just wish that you hadn't had to sell yourself for your sister. She is going to be heartbroken. She's never been without you for very long."

Anger started to roll off Caela in waves. Someone had stolen her baby girl. Her mortal defenseless baby girl. The message was clear, if Sebilla was with the Unseelie King, her capture was meant to draw them out. It was meant to draw their half sister Igraine into his court for whatever disgusting purpose he had for her.

If Caela could just get one hand wrapped around that King's throat...

Caela's hands clenched tight, drawing blood along the inside of one of her palms. She growled in an unnatural sort of way and moved away from her son. She licked the palm of her hand, sealing the wounds with her saliva, and snatched her Vuri blade off of the wall.

So it would be war then, would it?

"The bastard thinks he can take my children and use them against us? Oh, there will be hell for this King, the likes of which he's never had the pleasure of feeling." Thorin might be disturbed to notice that the whites of Caela's eyes were deep black red, forcing the midnight blue of her eyes and the silver flecks to look even more like a night sky. The deep anger in her was causing something to sever, and as she walked away from her son -- the plants that she had grown were beginning to wilt, to suffer and sizzle and blacken, the fruit was bursting open the inside sizzling like it was boiling from the inside out.

"Trydian." Her voice was slightly unnatural sounding, a little bit like the sound of chimes in the distance. "They won't let her go until Igraine comes. Keep her safe in your arms until we come. Don't let her make any deals herself, she won't know the severity of making deals with these...creatures." Caela pushed past Thorin, power swirling around her like a vortex.

"Let's go. Lead the way. I need to get a handle on my power." Caela snarled at Thorin, her anger only partially controlled. Everything around them was starting to blacken and die. So, she could give life and take it away just as easily it seemed.

Caela was beyond pissed at this point, and someone would have to die for it.

"

[Thorin]

This family was truly amazing. Only when they lost something, did they see eye to eye with each other. He watched Trydian solemnly leave to the King, his parting a silent mockery to everything they fought for. When her power erupted into a spectrum of pure force, he backed away from her momentarily. He watched her rush ahead, wanting to fight the King head on. When he didn't move, she'd be lost without his direction. She'd spend her energy against her own turmoil- it would be for nothing. He unsheathed his other blade, the Vuri sword seemed to match the hue of the Chaos sword. Together, they were a deadly combination for any foe- or woman out of her mind.

“If you calm yourself, I'll take you along. If you cannot, I'll abandon you. I don't need your powers inviting every goddamn Fae, without a plan.” Thorin said, letting his own power surface around his body. The power cycled around his chaotic form. At least they would be safe here with that kind of exposure. “I've had my own losses, but I'm not going to be so foolish as to simply go head on without a tactic.” Keeping his blades ready, he wondered if his sister would really attack him. It wouldn't serve them any purpose, it would only break the group further apart.

“Your children are grown and can look after themselves. Trydian isn't a helpless being, unlike my child in Igraine.” Thorin said, not caring if the words struck her as sharp as a sword. He turned toward her, his ego drunk with power and influence from the chaos blade. It would be impossible to simply take it from him. “Count your blessings...or be ignorant to them and cause yourself suffering. It won't matter to me in the end. I have my own problems to deal with.” Thorin shrugged his muscled shoulders, his body entangled in the binding power that came directly from the swords and his own spirit. It went above his body, like a brilliant funnel.

When she mentioned Trydian, he shook his head again. “You are damning your children. He can't see her, or the contract will be broken. It would be like sealing her death.” Losing patience, Thorin walked ahead of her, not fearing his back exposed to her own power. Thorin was pissed in his own way. He tried to explain the situation and it only fell on deaf ears. His family always rushed in, before thinking of the dire consequences. That was the curse of having Xanathi blood- you hardly had control over yourself.

“I do not blame you for your anger, but do not jeopardize others, so you can justify your revenge.” Thorin spoke of Igarine, knowing that would hit home with her. He wanted to see Igraine that moment, not caring about the consequences. Thorin could at least travel by shadow and he had two powerful blades to aid him, should anything try to attack her.

[Igraine]

Caela had ignored half of what Thorin had said as she walked back inside. There were a few words spoken to Trydian before he left. Nothing that Thorin could hear or even understand. She walked back outside deadly calm, but there was another blade in her hand. It seemed to suck the very light into it's black blade. The obsidian blade had seen uncounted war and soaked in the blood of countless victims. It paired beautifully, in a kind of sick symphony, with her Vuri sword which had a blue black sheen to it.

The presence of both blades together seemed to drink in the excessive amount of power swirling around them. Caela's hair fluttered on the breeze created by the disturbances their power co-mingling created.

"I don't give a fuck what you think. You talk about caring about your child when you told Igraine that you wished it was dead. You care, suddenly, because of the threat. You realize what your stupid bravado lost you. Look at what your stupidity has caused me." Caela gripped the darkness blade tighter in her fist, reopening the wound her nails caused earlier. The hilt should have gotten slicker with her blood but it seemed to get stickier, keeping the blade tight in her hand.

"Trydian was supposed to stab you. There is a bounty on your head. This is all your fault." There was a tear rolling down her cheek as she stared at Thorin. With a growl that sounded more like a wounded animal screaming Caela sheathed the blades violently. She licked the palm of her hand once again to seal the wounds before following after Thorin. She caught the hem of his tunic before he disappeared into the shadow, ensuring that she would end up in the same place he did.

She wasn't afraid of travelling through the shadow realm. She had done it so much as a demon that it wasn't anything new to her. Her anger was being held in check for now. It was misplaced to show power now, outside the sanctuary, and she took a deep breath.

When anyone looked at her, when they arrived, the only notion that power had slipped its bonds would be her eyes. The whites were still a red black. Vylrath would know, when he saw his daughter, he would know something was wrong before anything had been said.