The King's Court

[Paroxysm]

There would be one distinct, major change in the stronghold since Trydian had last left Sebilla's quarters: Monsters, of various shapes and sizes, now roamed the halls. Some were as large as ogres and others, more like Keev, were as small as a man's finger, but all of them walked through the lavish halls of the stronghold with a sense of purpose. Whatever had been keeping them out of sight had apparently expired and they were now free to go about their daily business.

The Unseelie king, Pendaran, was in his throne room, which was to be expected, and in front of him was a man of medium height, slender-build and similarly knife-tipped ears; from Pendaran’s view, he had skin more pale and flawless than the king’s and his hair, a pale, almost white blonde had a feathery weightlessness about it. His eyes were piercing and unnatural, a yellow iris in an orange pool, but inside of those monstrous eyes brimmed intelligence, predatory and calculative.

“You may defend yourself,” Pendaran told the man, “but do not instigate or use force unnecessarily. We will not have a repeat of last time, Orso-”

Pendaran paused mid-sentence and quirked a brow curiously.

“-Go now,” he commanded, “it seems the demon wants to speak to me again.”

The man obediently turned on heel and walked out of the king’s throne room. He had a simple task, at least; he just needed to deliver the king’s ‘acceptance’ of Igraine’s ultimatum and provide the means for her to travel directly to the stronghold.

[Trydian]

Trydian was no longer the same man. He had always been thought of last in his family, even his half sister had more freedom. Getting halfway down the hallway, something in him made him catch his step. It was as if someone had taken away the invisible shackles that bound him and Sebilla together. Having felt such a pull, could only mean that Sebilla had personally severed the blood bond. Retracting from his current path, he hurried back to her room.

The change between them would be everlasting, but the furor in him even more troubling. It didn't matter how hard he tried, he could never get ahead. Bonds in this family were almost inevitable, but he didn't think he should suffer for someone else's fault. Because his mother had been with another man, he had to watch over this human. Something was changing him in this realm and he didn't understand the intricate layers himself. Trydian felt whole when he was without Sebilla, but it should have been the complete opposite.

Smelling her blood made him regret his actions, his eyes blazing crimson, he opened the door with his unnatural strength. He saw the dagger mark on the door, but he was more concerned about her well being. Even though he had asked for that emotion to completely end, some natural part of him was still thinking of her.

It was as if the world didn't want them to rest, not even give her a moments peace. She would have to grow without him and breaking the blood bond might have been for the best. Even though his mind wanted to argue, deep down he knew that this was true. Sebilla could be stronger without him. They were pulling each other down.

King Pendaran would feel his sudden surge. Since Trydian was a full demon, it wouldn't exactly be an easy thing to ignore. His aura practically radiated off of his body, but it was only spawned from anger, not absolute control.

“Stupid bitch!” Trydian yelled in a new kind of fury. He saw the fresh stitch marks on her arm. That was when he saw the vial of blood. She had really wanted to be rid of him. While his cursing was only words, he would never have actually broken the bond.

“Grow stronger without me. For once, you have your own thoughts and future.” Trydian said, afraid of holding her. With his anger, he was afraid of hurting her. Sebilla had been known for being frail, but he could feel something new developing in her. He was by the door, almost afraid of the outcome if she did come near him.

“I don't need you anymore, Sebilla.” Trydian responded to her, feeling the words cut at his ego and heart. He wanted her to be freed from the bond their mother had forced upon them. “This realm has given me all the strength I will ever need.”

[Sebilla]

"You never needed me. It was I that needed you. I've always needed you. It's time that I grow up and look for a normal life. That is, if I survive this." Sebilla tossed the vial of her blood at Trydian and turned away from him. Her arm was an angry red where the knife had parted the flesh. The spider webs were keeping it together, but she felt like everything else was falling apart around her.

Trydian would be aware, acutely, of every part of her. He would see her in a totally different light as she stayed distant from him. She refused to look at him, letting her raven black hair shield her face from him. She couldn't let him see her cry. She refused to let him see her cry. If he was to survive in this world, this place that King Pendaran was ruler of, then he needed his full power -- he couldn't be brought down by her very essence. His overpowering need to protect her had been too much, a strain on the power that he could utilize to strengthen himself for the battle he would wage against them all.

Sebilla knew that she would be immune from his rage. He had sold his soul for her in order to keep her safe. Now that the bond was broken she distantly wondered if he might regret his actions, selling himself for a cheap thrill.

"Just go. I don't want to see you anymore. Let's face it I'm safer without you around." Sebilla planted her hands on the window sill that looked out into the vast darkness beyond. There were things moving around but she fixed her gaze on what part of the sky she could see through the trees. Her voice pitched a little higher than she would have liked and wobbled a little more than she would have wished, but she said it. She said everything to make him go away. If he would just let her go maybe she could cry herself to sleep and just be done with it.

"Who knows, maybe now I can settle down with a human and have children and be normal." Yeah, right, like she'd love anyone as deeply as she did Trydian. She would manage though if she survived. "Assuming I make it through the war that's coming." Sebilla rested her forehead against the glass, feeling feverish after her lack of sleep. Dimly she wondered if King Pendaran would know that she was feeling ill.

He couldn't let her die after all, Igraine would be coming for her soon.

[Trydian]

Trydian listened to the words and he accepted the throttle of emotion behind them. With the snap of his hand, he was already clutching the vial of blood. She always forgot what he was and maybe that was what irritated him the most.

Snarling he spoke, but it wasn't a voice she'd recognize. “Demons like to finish their contracts with no loose ends.” Unsheathing his blade, it looked as though he would attack her, but he simply tossed the blade on the floor so that it skid to a complete stop.

“The sword I protected you with...perhaps your future husband will have use of it.” Trydian said, even motioning toward the blade, as though she wouldn't be able to see the action. Pocketing the blood, he distracted her enough, so that she wouldn't see that reaction.

Trydian scoffed from the last of her words, only a small part of him felt shame. “You are a Seer. You will never be seen as a normal human. Your abilities have always separated you.” Trydian breathed, not feeling himself calm in the least. “You captured the heart of a demon. Do you think a normal human woman would be able to do that?” It seemed like he would tower over her, attempting to dominate what space she had. “This is the only world that will accept you. Be grateful that King Pendaran has taken you in.”

When she asked not to see him, he was already heading out the door. She would get the obvious impression, that there was more to what he was saying, but he didn't have time to see her reaction to it all. Trydian needed to speak with King Pendaran, now that things were getting even thicker. If the blade had been offered before, than the blade would be offered again. His arrogance convinced him that he wouldn't be denied presence with the King.

He walked down the hallway with a surprising new calm. The struggle was no longer there, his thoughts no longer muddled with the idea of her safety. Human blood was worthless, but the vial was kept as a secure reminder for Trydian.

Walking into the throne room, he only waited for King Pendaran to address him. He had just since spoken to him, but he would notice that he was weaponless. It would seem that he was changing his mind about the blade offered to him earlier. This time he didn't bow, but stood rather reassured about his position in the greater scheme of things.

[Paroxysm]

True to Trydian’s expectations, no guard prevented his entry into the throne room and, once he finally did come before the king, Pendaran smiled warmly and gave the demon his full attention; he had, after all, been expecting Trydian for a few minutes now.

“Back so soon?” Pendaran spoke through his smile. “You had seemed to be in such a hurry to spend a little bit of time with your sister earlier,” he noted, “but here you are in front of me again. Everything is alright, I
hope?”

There was nothing genuine about the king’s speech this go around. Everything he uttered sounded and felt fake, artificial; he was no longer attempting to fake empathy and did not care to make a show of hiding it. This gave his words an almost mocking quality. Regardless, now that his Fascination wasn’t needed to keep Sebilla from dying of fright or succumbing to shock, he saw no such need to color his words with pretend-emotion and the like; it was almost liberating.

[Trydian]

Trydian listened to the tone of the King's voice. He wasn't surprised by the hidden notions, but part of him wondered if there was something more he should know. In truth, he had gone to see his sister out of actual concern. The concern was finally lifted, his thoughts actually clear for absolute concentration. It was awkward not having her on his mind, but then one never got used to freedom suddenly obtained.

“I'd like to retract my response to your offer on the sword. My contract with my sister is complete. I can focus on the training that we spoke about- she's done something rather harsh, that even your power couldn't mend.” Trydian said, thankful for that at least. Blood pacts were tricky things and he certainly hadn't counted on his sister going this route with it.

Even though he had pushed her sanity, he thought she had loved him enough to stay connected. When he had walked into the room and witnessed her own undoing, he began to feel like a fool for having protected her.

There were too many emotions crawling underneath his skin. Trydian knew that in order to be completely free, he would have to take it one step further. Maybe the King had the ability to grant him his next request, but he was not an ignorant demon with this sort of practice.

“I wish to serve you completely. I've no need for my family, including my name. I wish to wipe the Xanathi connection from my existence. If you do not have the power, than I will simply have to earn another.” Trydian made it sound like an ultimatum, but he knew who controlled that fate. Since King Pendaran had made a pact with Trydian's soul, it meant that he would have greater control with his name. If he had to change his person entirely, he wouldn't hesitate.

He knew Sebilla would never forgive him, but there was little he could do about something irreparable. Because Sebilla had sealed their fate, he was no longer obligated to concern himself with her desires. In his mind, he hoped that she moved on from him and grew from her power. She had always been strong, so there was no doubt that she would succeed. As if an afterthought, he wondered how their mother would react to the news of the bond breaking.

[Thorin]

Thorin followed Igraine with an awakened energy. He grew excited at seeing his old home, where he had grown up with his mother. Those had been happier times and he only wanted to have the same life with Igraine. He knew that he could provide for her and protect her, her words of affection lifting his spirits. There was something new about her, like a poison from their past being lifted. He remembered when they first fell in love and his heart began to swell.

Caught in his bliss, he was ignorant and lost to the fact she was not the one he once loved. Through his emotions and touch, the fake Igraine would see how much he cared for the true Igraine. He did everything to see her smile, or make her hold onto him.

“When I thought you were dead, I nearly lost my mind...if this is some sort of dream, I don't want to wake up- ever.” Thorin expressed to her, making the Bocan look into his eyes. When he kissed her, they were the same soft lips he had craved and known.

The glamor worked as planned. The castle continued to look like his home in Rivenfelde. When she mentioned a banquet, he could hardly care about eating. If she beckoned, he would simply follow her to his hearts content. He did everything to keep her happy.

In the whirlwind of his delusions, some parts of his mind questioned the sanity of everything. Even though he questioned why a certain item was placed so neatly, or why she worded a phrase so perfectly, it was quickly pushed aside with utter bliss.

“Lead me, I will follow...” Thorin said almost too obediently. He began to feel physically sick, as if a strange ailment had taken over his senses. The work of the glamor sometimes had strange effects, but he was too delusional to acknowledge.

King Pendaran would be given a rare gift indeed: Thorin Xanathi. Igraine had been his true love, but also the bane of his existence. Because of that love, he had been precariously placed into the hands of the enemy. His Vuri power was something to be wary of and certainly investigate. Right now, his aura was dulled because of the mood the Bocan had settled him in. It would take the removal of the guise to make him aware of his surroundings.

[Igraine]

The Bocan found it harder and harder to remain amused by Thorin the closer they got to the Throne Room. Once they had crossed over into the room she let out a soft sigh which sounded loving as she pretended to dote on Thorin. King Pendaran would be shocked by this unexpected gift, and she was counting on his shock. The Bocan, her name known only to Pendaran as Lydia, let go of Thorin and began walking toward King Pendaran. Thorin wouldn't see him, he would just see another room from his youth -- the throne room, though the throne was vacant.

"What a beautiful place this is, Thorin. You grew up in this castle?" The fake Igraine asked, smiling as she turned her back to where King Pendaran was. She beckoned to Thorin with a brilliant smile. She played coy with him as she had with their sex games. Pendaran would realize immediately that she was pregnant -- such things she could not hide from her King. He watched his Bocan population carefully but he would see the genius in her plan obviously.

Thorin Xanathi was to have another child, though he knew it not.

The moment that Pendaran said her name the glamour would shatter and leave Thorin grasping for straws. The Bocan made it so that she was closer to Pendaran than Thorin for his protection. Pendaran, for all his evilness, wouldn't let a pregnant Bocan suffer damage -- the creatures were too rare and too dangerous to let go. Their female population only capable of getting pregnant once was a minor detail -- this child that the Bocan carried would carry the Vuri taint because of the blood shared in his making. Thorin didn't know that he had shared any of his blood, but the Bocan had made certain that the child would be part Vuri. This creature brewing inside her was going to be incredibly dangerous given the proper tutelage.

"This is simply amazing, Thorin." Trydian was a new face that the Bocan spared a glance, though not so obvious as to alert Thorin to thinking she was looking at something that wasn't there. "What a beautiful place..."

She just had to wait for Pendaran to say her name and then stand next to him. Thorin would be incapable of hurting her then.

[Sebilla]

Sebilla was angry. So angry she could have spit, instead she just wiped away her tears and walked to the bed where her crystal ball was. She reached out and touched it and her whole body jolted. She twisted over and put her hands over her face, obviously in some kind of internal struggle. When she straightened up she smoothed out her white skirts and ran her fingers through her hair. Sebilla looked a little confused at the long hair and skirts and walked to a nearby mirror. A soft oath escaped her lips as she touched her chin and cheeks. She touched her full lips and stared closely at the reflection in the mirror and frowned.

"Oh well pretty enough to do the job." Her voice sounded strange and she seemed to struggle again for a moment. "Oh you're strong. Pipe down in there." Sebilla tapped her head and turned away from the mirror. She spied the sword on the floor and bent over and picked it up. Perfect. She raised her head and sniffed out the scent of her brother and followed it to the Throne room, leaving her bedroom door wide open. Nothing would dare bother with her things anyway.

She walked quietly into the throne room dragging the sword behind her. Sebilla spied some creature luring what was apparantly her Uncle into the room as well. She quirked a brow and smiled. Ah, the Unseelie were such coy little creatures, though the ass on the blonde was scrumptious.

Sebilla walked right up to the King and leaned on the sword before bowing low over the hilt.

It was a mockery. Pendaran would know for certain that it was not Sebilla in control of her own body. A flicker of scarlet eyes would only cement that theory. Sebilla turned around and walked to her brother, she was acting very odd. She would never have acted this way when they were together, or at all really.

"Oh tsk, tsk, tsk. Offering yourself to the lesser creatures of this realm? How pathetic you are. You're a demon act like one. Get your sniveling little face out of your ass and act like the demon you were born to be. You're Vylrath Xanathi's son! Show some respect for your heritage!" Coming from Sebilla this wasn't very...productive. She was small, slight, and human. She wasn't threatening at all -- yet whatever had taken hold of her was very much threatening.

"Oh, excuse me my lovelies. Mikal at your service, and not the saintly one either." Sebilla snorted and then seemed to double over on herself. Her expression pained for a moment before Mikal took control again. "Seems the little pretty in this body doesn't like to be crowded. She's a tasty little thing." Mikal, as if to prove his point, dug one finger into the webbed over cut on Sebilla's arm and dug out a little blood. He could feel the girl inside him scream but he didn't really care, he couldn't feel it anyway. He sucked on his finger and smiled -- Sebilla's teeth bright red with her own blood.

"Now look here, don't you go thinking you can exorcise me either. I'll take the pretty little soul in here with me. This body will be a shell in no time flat." As if to prove his point Mikal lifted the sword he was holding with ease and placed it at his own neck. He knew of Pendaran's promise that no Unseelie would harm Sebilla -- but Mikal wasn't an Unseelie. He was a demon. A nasty one at that -- he'd been the reason that Willow Lothair had died.

"So tell me Prince of Hell, what are you doing making promises to a King that will just screw you over at the first chance he gets? He's a King of Lies. Not that we're much better down below, but you know, family sticks together. I see you trying to abandon yours. Not a bright thing to do little prince. We have ways of making your life...worse than hell." Mikal laughed an unnatural sound coming out of Sebilla. She wasn't bleeding from the open wound, but she would be once he released her body -- if he did.

Mikal pressed the sword closer to his neck, Sebilla's neck, and when he let go of her body there would be blood there as well but not a whole lot. There would be a small red line that would fade eventually.

"Oh ho, she's your sister is she?" Mikal ran his hand, Sebilla's hand, down her body. "She wants you, you know. Not very sisterly at all..." Mikal cackled. He had a vice-like grip on Sebilla's soul and he was shredding his way through her thoughts and memories. It was like having a hot iron poker jabbed into her skull. Trydian would know that.

Sebilla was screwed without him.

[Paroxysm]

Pendaran held out his hand and called his sword - the very same sword he had shown to Trydian earlier - into existence; he held the sheathed blade by the hilt and looked from it to Trydian thoughtfully.

“Unfortunately, because you so readily dismissed my offer before, I already promised it to another,” he laughed, “and he’s a vindictive sort, you understand? Would likely stick a knife in your back the first chance he got, if I gave you this sword now.”

Honestly, the novel thought of Trydian using his sword had already worn thin and Pendaran could no longer justify simply handing something of such power, an instrument that represented his authority and power, even, to Trydian Xanathi. If the sword was misused or Trydian somehow moved against the court with it, it would be Pendaran’s name and reputation on the line. Pendaran could not and would not risk an inter-faction war at this late a stage.

“No,” Pendaran waved the sword out of existence once more, “I don’t think I can give you this sword,” he admitted, “but we will forge you one of your own, later. Similar, but different; it will be made of your power, not mine. But... Yes, let’s skip that for now. You want to surrender your name, your heritage? Elaborate further,” the king urged.

There were two options that immediately jumped to the forefront of Pendaran's mind for achieving what Trydian was asking for but one of those options, dangerous and nearly unheard of, needed heavy consideration; regardless, the first and most simple path for Trydian to get from underneath the shackles of his family was to wholly join the Unseelie, in body and soul. Not through a bargain, but by willing, conscious choice. Not much would change about him, he would still be a demon, through-and-through, but he would be of the Fae as well; he would most likely only gain the features common amongst the Unseelie court and those affiliated with it but would otherwise remain himself.

The second option... That was something else entirely, something interesting, however; it was something Pendaran had always wanted to try but could not due to a lack of justification. What would happen if he changed a person's name? Not their given name, of course, but their true name - the unspoken name that wholly and fully described a person or thing right down to its very existence. It was the kind of thing that could do exactly what Trydian wanted and more, but it was also the kind of thing that could unmake a man entirely. One mistake on Pendaran’s part and poof, Trydian was gone.

"I can -”

And then there was Lydia - the Bocan - and she was bringing gifts, which was good, since she was interrupting something Pendaran was quite interested in attempting. For academic reasons, of course. Bocan or no, Pendaran did not enjoy his scholarly pursuits interrupted.

“Ah,” Pendaran smacked his lips, “Lydi-” he cut the name short when he realized he was going to be interrupted again, but this time, it would not be in the middle of a conversation. Indeed, Pendaran, in statue-like silence, sat on his throne and waited patiently, and continued to do so up until this intruder, this trespasser in his realm, began to abuse its host’s body.

It was true, Sebilla was not to be harmed by the Unseelie while in their care and after she was released, but, likewise, she was under Unseelie protection - and while she was in the stronghold, she was under Pendaran’s personal protection. By taking possession of Sebilla and attempting to harm her, this being had spat on Pendaran’s hospitality and goodwill, and that, that was a very bad thing to do.

Pendaran did not reply with words. He said nothing and made no obvious move, but that did not mean he did not act; indeed, those with the sense to feel would sense the power gathering around Pendaran as he felt within himself and drew out his energy and mixed it with the ambient power of the world.

The quality and power of Pendaran’s spellwork would have been the life-defining moment of any sorcerer and the difficulty of what he was doing was not to be undervalued; it took an unwavering mind to stitch fundamental forces together, after all; and Pendaran was doing it easily.

As arcane energy entangled itself with Qi - the spiritual life force of the world and all things in it - the air around Pendaran began to grow wet and chilly, and fog, starting at the floors, began to roll in waves around the room, spreading from Pendaran outwards.

A spiritual presence, tinged with Pendaran’s power, began to fill the room, and thus the king’s intention became clear; it was an entropic spell but one that dealt a spiritual blow - caused spiritual decay - rather than physical. This demon could have been Sentinel himself and Pendaran would not have cared; it invaded his kingdom, his court, and by the Gods, if it did not behave appropriately, Pendaran would bleed it from Sebilla or kill them both in the attempt.

"algor mortis," Pendaran finally spoke and his words held a weight to them, almost a physical blow, in fact, "trespasser. Exorcism? No, I prefer entropic spiritual decay. Foolish thing, Sebilla Xanathi is involved in a bargain with my court through her brother and because of it, I have power enough over her to preserve her life, but you? I will sunder you, I will drag you into Purgatory and abandon you to its monstrosities, alone and helpless, and watch as you're torn from one spiritual limb to the other."

The Unseelie king stood from his throne and electricity crackled just behind and to the side of him, blanketed by the fog, which was undergoing oscillation, swirling and thickening, and clinging hungrily to his body in search of more energy, more power.

It was a living spell and also clear, definitive proof that Pendaran could do more than simple illusions and glamour.

“You will cease your games and disrespect.”

Pendaran was not bluffing; if need be, he could use the small connection between Sebilla and the Unseelie, forged when Trydian struck his bargain, to strike at the presence directly. Sebilla Xanathi would probably survive. Somewhat. At this point, Pendaran could not even begin to express how little he cared.

[Trydian]

Trydian cursed inwardly, but he didn't dare show his frustration in front of Mikal, or even King Pendaran. His contract with Sebilla was broken, there was little he could do. He could save her out of good will, but Trydian had little of that left in his blood. More confusion was brought to him, when he saw his uncle entering the room. There was too much to take in. Trydian couldn't let the circumstances falter his intentions with King Pendaran. Mikal was a lesser demon to him, something he shouldn't even consider associating with himself.

Mikal openly used his family name, to try to strike something in him, but it would prove to be a fruitless attack. “Do you think I hold some sentiment with my family? I am hardly sniveling...I know what I bargain with and what I risk. I want to be rid of this name, this connection....” Trydian paused, snarled and quickly regretted showing the emotion so quick.

“My father was a half demon. I hardly respect those creatures. Do not think, that you can use his blood line, to get something out of me.” Trydian went over his words and wondered what Mikal wanted with him. He loved his sister, but he wouldn't risk everything for her human nature.

He wanted to walk away from the sight of Sebilla, but more-so, the foolish sight of his uncle. His uncle had been lead into a trap- quite literally lead, by one of the King's personal servants. “Do you see why I want to be rid of this connection? Even now they embarrass me.”

Trydian watched the movements of Sebilla, knowing they weren't of her own free will. Taking out the vial of her blood, he displayed the contents to Mikal. “Go ahead and bleed her...I got enough from her earlier.” He spun the vial in his hand, albeit playfully considering the scene. Pocketing it, he continued to watch and read into the power of Mikal.

Demons were all about hierarchy and Mikal would be no different. “If you want to deal with her nonsense, then be my guest. Maybe I can have some peace....only a lesser demon would want a human so badly.” When Mikal thrust his his claw like grip into Sebilla, he was furious inside. He could smell the fresh blood immediately. Trydian knew that if he showed his true emotion, Mikal would be able to take advantage.

Listening to King Pendaran's proclamation on loyalty, it did not surprise him in the least. He may have been the King of Lies, but it wasn't as if that mattered much anymore in Trydian's view. What choice did he and Sebilla have? They were practically at his mercy, but at least he didn't appear so desperate like he could have.

Looking toward King Pendaran, he gave his final answer, as if wanting Sebilla herself to hear in that shell of hers. There would be little lost and much more to gain. He could forge his own sword, he wasn't worried about the damned sword.

Mikal's words would fall on deaf ears and Sebilla may cry out in defiance to Trydian's choice. He was doing it for the both of them, but more for himself on a personal level. If he gave up his very existence and became part of the court, he knew the dangers involved.

“I surrender myself- everything.” After experiencing this world, there was little fear with such words. He knew that might spark something in Mikal. Maybe he would be shocked, that the demon was going through with it, without any consideration for his sister.

[Sebilla]

"You're more like Vylrath than you know. You would let your own sister die. He killed his own children, bedded them too -- I see it runs in the family." Mikal sidled away from where Pendaran was, further into a corner away from any of the nasty things of the Unseelie Court. His eyes, Sebilla's eyes, were glowing. He could feel whatever it was that Pendaran was trying to do.

"I've been to Purgatory." It was a haunted sound that filled the voice coming out of Sebilla. "He doesn't care if she dies, you know. What he's doing to me ensures that I take her soul with me and kill her. Sell your soul, you're nothing but trouble anyway. A poor excuse of a man that can't get over his daddy issues." Mikal sneered but then he smiled genuinely. "Her thoughts, not mine. She's absolutely horrified that you're willing to let her die. She did her little contract breaking so she could be free of your hate you know. Sadly for her it opened doors. Lots of doors. The next one that gets hold of her won't treat her so nice. Picking at her soul is too much fun."

Mikal knew he'd lost this bout and he wasn't about to let Pendaran send him back to Purgatory. He weighed his options, wondering whether this girl really needed to surivive with a family that seemed to despise her very existence, treated her as weak, when in reality not many humans could have fought him so valiantly -- that she was even quiet at all inside her little skull was because her Brother had effectively sold them both to Pendaran. In his own twisted way, Mikal realized that if he killed this girl she might be better off. Sure a demon would have killed her but this King of the Unseelie was supposed to keep her safe, right? That obviously meant someone would be coming for her, and probably soon.

If Mikal killed her, surely that would cause undue trouble. He decided finally that if he didn't like where this girl's life was headed he would do her a favor, whether willing or not. He would lie dormant inside her -- reading her thoughts and prayers and seeing the world through her eyes. If he deemed her life unfit to live for a soul so shudderingly pure, then he would take her soul.

"Fine, you win. I won't be rude any longer. I think I'll just take a nap inside this pretty little body and see how things work themselves out." With that, Mikal sank deep somewhere in Sebilla's subconcious and shoved her back to the forefront of her own body. She stumbled and dropped the sword from her hands as if it were on fire. It clattered loudly in the quiet room as she backed deeper into the corner away from Pendaran and away from Trydian. Her eyes locked on Thorin and she felt a surge of empathy. If she could only break the hold over him. He was in such danger and Igraine loved him so much...

Sebilla let her eyes linger on Trydian for a moment. In such a haste to let her die that he could barely keep himself from tripping over the stairs of Pendaran's throne to prostrate himself to a new ruler. Perhaps her choice had been a good one. She hadn't trapped his heart, he hadn't loved her at all, and she was certain of it. If he came near her she would scream. He was more terrifying to her than Pendaran was with his icy beauty and deep dark magic. She only dared look at Pendaran out of the corner of her eye, she didn't want to fall hopelessly in love with a cold heartless creature for no reason.

Sebilla cradled her bleeding arm against her chest, not bothering with the tickle of blood along her neck where the sword had sliced the skin dangerously close to vital breathing organs. Trydian would smell it, and because she was family it was like an aphrodisiac -- like liquid energy. If he came near her she would scream, he couldn't hurt her or touch her in anger now that he was Unseelie anyway. It would take a long time for her to get over loving Trydian but she would do it.

From her corner her eyes gleamed like two small mouse eyes -- seeing everything but not wanting to comment. She would run back to her room the first chance she got and deal with the demon nestled deep inside her as soon as she could. Igraine would know what to do, she had to.

[Paroxysm]

The thing possessing Sebilla may have been to Purgatory but Pendaran was willing to bet it hadn’t actually experienced Purgatory whilst in a weakened state. The creatures that inhabited the spirit world were ruthless in their hunger and desire for strength, power and life. Regardless, the thing appeared to have retreated into dormancy but that did not mean Pendaran was placated; indeed, he was furious with the phantom and its insinuations.

“You’re not leaving this realm, parasite,” Pendaran stated, blunt and to the point, “Not without being punished. Your choice of host is perfect.”

Pendaran was already in need of ensuring Sebilla Xanathi’s continued ... neutrality and now doubly so. Initially, he pitied the girl and not actually wished to harm her; it served no tactical advantage to hurt her but now that she was host to some audacious irritant...

A blessed curse, then. A geis.

If this thing so wanted to attach itself to Sebilla then Pendaran would simply make it a permanent arrangement; she would die and with her, so, too, would it, mortal and human, and pathetic. Unless, of course, it served him. What had Mikal called Pendaran? A lesser creature? Fitting.

When Pendaran caught Sebilla’s eyes on Thorin, he smiled inwardly; he sat back on his throne but kept his spell around him like a cloak.

“Lydia!” Pendaran snapped, “Enough with your glamour. Let’s let this family reunion underway. Orso should be delivering my reply to Igraine soon - ah, and we will have you armed just as soon as your uncle is dealt with, Trydian.”

[Thorin]

Thorin felt his world collapse, almost reminding him of a shattered mirror. What would seem real, was a mere fabrication of Lydia's glamour. Her form melted into another woman, making him stagger back in confusion. She was not the Igraine his heart had been seeking. His hand immediately went for his sword, but then he heard King Pendaran's voice through the mist of deceit. Thorin knew better than to attack in another man's realm where they had absolute control. He had only known about King Pendaran through Igraine and that information had been slim.

Ignoring Lydia, he concentrated on King Pendaran. Lydia would be lost to him, his anger taking over most of his common sense. Thorin was tired of being used as a pawn in this world. When King Pendaran spoke about Igraine, that was when he realized she still must be living somewhere.

“Leave Igraine out of this...what do you want from me?” Thorin was ready for bargaining, it if could keep Igraine safe. His eyes wandered, catching Trydian standing a few feet from King Pendaran. He didn't say a word, but Thorin knew who he was. Thorin hadn't been counting on Trydian's loyalties, understanding how the heart of a demon works.

His body quickly cocooned itself in a dark wraith, unafraid to show his true anger in front of King Pendaran. While it might not of been the wisest, he couldn't have helped his emotions, considering all he had just been through.

“It was not wise of you to lure me with that whore...do you think I will hold some attachment with her? She is not the true form of Igraine.” Thorin kept his stance, his heart racing. They had bed enough, that she could be pregnant. It was something that he would never forgive himself for...how could he of been so easily tricked? “If she has any children by me, then she had better beg for your protection over them. I will kill them myself....” Thorin said, promising through the threat. He had made a mistake, but not something that couldn't be remedied by bloodshed.

Thorin was damned. Making a threat in King Pendaran's stronghold, had not been the best of choice, but his anger didn't allow him to think clearly. He decided to address the issue with Trydian, hoping that maybe the boy, was simply drugged with dark promises by King Pendaran. "I will not take pity on the boy...if he attacks me, he dies by my sword." Maybe King Pendaran, thought to use Trydian as a tool to bargain with, but that sort of thing wouldn't easily cloud Thorin's judgment.

If Igraine was in fact alive still, then she was in greater danger and he wasn't able to do anything. He felt helpless, knowing that his sword, wasn't enough to go against King Pendran and Trydian. King Pendaran had too many forces against him.

Thorin decided to stall, keeping his stance and bravado intact.

[Igraine]

"It's about time. I hate when you get distracted." Lydia skipped quickly out of Thorin's reach and stood next to King Pendaran's throne. He would not miss the swell of her belly beneath her fine spun tunic. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her pale grey skin smooth and uncanny. Her hair fell in dark green spirals around her face and shoulders. The look in her amber colored eyes was wild, deadly, and completely uncontrollable. Except, well Pendaran had a tight fist around the leash that bound her. This Bocan was one of five known to exist, three of which were male. Females were more impressive in their cruelty, but Males could reproduce with any race due to their changing ability. A female could reproduce just once, and the child she produced would be at least half Bocan.

In Lydia's case the child would be half Bocan and half Vuri. There was an exchange of blood between her and Thorin that enabled such a creation -- this would become a problem for him later she was sure. However, Lydia couldn't care less. Her hand rested on her stomach for a moment before turning to Pendaran and kneeling next to his throne. He knew her usefulness would come at a price, she would be incapacitated shortly, but she would give him a new child.

"I give the child I am carrying into your care. I know not where you will send me after I have given this child to you, but know that I will always serve you." Pendaran was something like an Idol among the Bocan society. Her usefulness as a breeder was gone with the production of this child, but she was giving it to Pendaran as an offering and to show her loyalty to him. "I believe it will be a son."

Lydia settled her eyes on Thorin with a grin, her sharp teeth glistening in the low light of the Throne Room. This creature was dangerous and Thorin had bedded it, quite willingly, even with obvious flaws in the make-up of his Beloved.

"Orso should be the perfect...attendant to your needs, my King." Lydia quieted and settled next to Pendaran at the base of his Throne.

She was not unlike a pet to him, a deadly one to be sure.