The King's Court

[Paroxysm]

Pendaran looked at Thorin curiously for a moment while idly twirling a tendril of fog around his finger; he looked away from the man and to the Bocan and back again.

"I've had my eyes set on the High Queen of Ulster well before you ingratiated yourself to her," Pendaran stated stoically, "and there is nothing you could possibly offer me that would change that. I didn't even ask Lydia," he gestured towards the Bocan, "to bring you here. You're more of a ... pleasant surprise."

Thorin's presence felt different, Pendaran suddenly realized. He was tainted still, he could feel and smell it in the air, but it wasn't the same thing that he sensed from, say, Trydian or one of the other demon-things in his court. That meant Thorin had undergone something of a change since Pendaran's consciousness invaded their ship on the way to Ulster.

Still, it appeared that Thorin kept his emotions in tact.

"You insult my Lydia but it isn't as though Igraine Lothair is any better, is it? It was not 'Thorin Xanathi' she asked to be her escort to my realm, to my court; indeed," Pendaran smirked, "it seems she has chosen Vylrath Xanathi. The Xanathi clan's mating habits at their best, I suppose. I hear she even gave him a sword.”

Like usual, Pendaran was, of course, speaking in half-truths; he did not outright tell a lie but neither was he telling the whole story or giving context to his words. That would have, after all, been counter-productive to the situation.

“Whatever child is born of Lydia belongs to me,” he remarked, “to attack it would be to attack me,” he momentarily gave Sebilla a hardened look, “and that is all the warning you get, son of Vylrath Xanathi.”

The king’s sour words and demeanor - along with the still active spell, of course - showed that he was still quite angry with Mikal’s invasion; fortunately, he was still a patient man. It was just of limited quantity now.

Pendaran sighed, “He will only attack you if I tell him to, boy.”

Silent in the wake of his words, Pendaran placed the flat of his hand atop the Bocan’s head and stroked her hair lightly.

“Igraine Lothair, Vylrath Xanathi, and a ... monk,” Pendaran made a mental note to find out who the hell this monk was later, “will be arriving soon for parley. You will be my honored guest until then. A room will be prepared for you and it would be in your best interest to not try and leave. This world is unaccommodating when I want it to be and I’d hate to have to imprison you."

So long as Thorin could behave himself, he more or less had the freedom to travel through the stronghold unimpeded, save the parts where the few guards were, of course, but he was no less a prisoner than if he had been thrown into the dungeon. This realm’s tendency to warp time and distance made it infuriatingly difficult for someone not of the Unseelie to navigate it without a powerful Fae’s influence, such as Sadb helping Trydian. To escape, Thorin would have to venture into the wilds of Unseelie territory, unwelcomed as he was, and make his way to Sadb’s nexus, who would no doubt take offense to a Vuri’s presence. Either way, Pendaran saw Thorin as a new toy and an answer to a recent problem.

[Thorin]

Thorin relaxed, but only momentarily. There was no point in starting a small war with King Pendaran. He listened to his words, noting the change in tone. The King was shocked at finding his presence and that was something that could play in his favor. Trydian would be an afterthought, but Lydia would linger on his mind.

King Pendaran forgot about how the Vuri were connected. They were connected through blood, a type of curse that poisoned the veins. While Vylrath Xanathi, controlled most of the remaining Vuri through delusional tactics, there was something to be feared. Thorin was the first born son of Vylrath Xanathi, but he had been changed into a Vuri after his mother and siblings. He did not possess the strength his father did, but his power was more raw and unhinged. Thorin did not doubt his own power, just the direction in which he sought to use it.

“The abomination may belong to you, but the blood is forever tied with me and the Vuri clan.” Thorin paced in front of the King, his nerves crawling from his growing anger. Listening to King Pendaran's news of Igraine and Vylrath, he only grew irritated at hearing his father's name. “As long as the sword isn't in your hands, I can be grateful. Even if it is with someone like my father, I doubt he will give it up so easily.” Thorin said, thankful that Igraine was at least with Vylrath and the monk. The monk would be interesting, but he doubted the man could stand up to someone like King Pendaran. They would be in for a rude awakening.

“Honored guest? Call it what you want. I will see to my niece....” Thorin left King Pendaran with a neutral mood. His essence was almost sentient-like umbra, which shifted around his form. The dark depth almost appeared like an armor, shifting and changing with the movement of Thorin. His sword reacted only to its Master, but it was not something so supernatural, that it needed to be acknowledged.

He could sense the struggle in her, the defiance raging inside of her chest and mind. Sebilla's heart was no longer her own, her mind warping to a quick insanity. Sebilla had been the one being, that had been untouched, unscathed, until his involvement. While he had only met her briefly, in his demonic form, he had remembered her purity.

Keeping his distance, his aura became a thin shade, less intimidating than the form he had accomplished previously. “Sebilla....it's your uncle Thorin. I want you to come with me. I'll take you where you can be at peace.” The promise wouldn't please the demon inside her, but something in her might be able to feel that desire again. His voice would be soothing, much more so than the chaos she was exposed to earlier.

“Come with me...” Thorin's hand reached out to Sebilla's shaking form. The demon inside, would be curious about his power, as if it were a type of dark beacon. While Thorin coaxed Sebilla, he also let the demon feel his seemingly unlimited power. In truth, his power was limited, but he would be a new influence for a demon like Mikal. He could only hope that both would respond and not make the other go mad.

[Sebilla]

A small strangled sound came from the corner, as if Sebilla were choking on her thought to scream. She looked at Thorin with big blue eyes and shook her head. She couldn't come with him, he had a sword.

"He's going to kill me. He's going to take my soul and kill me." Sebilla babbled softly a few times, well out of earshot of Pendaran. She saw how angry he was with the demon inside her. At this point he was the only one doing anything proactive about it. The fog lingered around the room, brushing against her feet and skirts and she shied away from it a little, not sure what it would do to her.

"I can feel him inside my head." Sebilla murmured softly as she looked at Thorin. She reached out from her dark corner and clung to his hand. "He wants to see what you are but he's frustrated. Don't let him take over my body again, he says the worst things. I don't think any of the things he says he just says them." A soft thrill of panic was ebbing it's way out of her. Surely that Pendaran would feel. She doubted he had any sympathy for her plight, but he did have to honor her brother's pact to keep her safe.

Wouldn't Pendaran have done what was necessary to get rid of the demon if it angered him so much?

Sebilla watched as he petted the creature with the dark green hair. Her eyes were closed as if she were enjoying the attention immensely. From what she gathered the woman had enslaved her Uncle and was pregnant. She glanced back at Thorin and squeezed his hand as tight as she could. She was so sorry that Thorin had been tricked, she knew how much he loved Igraine.

"They're alive. Your daughter will be born in six months." Sebilla murmured. She glanced over at the Bocan, by the looks of her that child would be born much much sooner.

[Trydian]

“Such a flawed legacy....” Trydian muttered, watching the exchange between his uncle and King Pendaran. Their presence overwhelmed Trydian, but it didn't completely make him speechless. He could see the turmoil in Sebilla's face, but there was little he could do to ease her suffering. The demon was taking hold in her body, but he was not strong enough to save her from that fate. He watched Thorin curiously, mostly offended that she had taken to his gesture. Sebilla held Thorin's hand, like she had once held his. His uncle offered the gesture out of concern, but his ego wanted to argue against the logic.

Trydian walked toward her, but only enough so that she felt his presence. His face appeared stoic, but his stance was tense. If he had a sword, his hand would have already been resting on the hilt. Trydian felt hatred toward his sister, more than ever before. He had cared for her, but he knew the danger of her holding onto that hope. Even if King Pendaran heard his words, he let them carry to Sebilla's ears with a cruel token.

“I've always wondered how you would be with a demonic soul. Just look...you're even weaker now, than you were as a human!” Trydian smirked, knowing that the soul wasn't completely merged with her. There was still a possibility of the demon taking advantage of the situation. He wanted her to feel humiliation and acknowledge her fate.

Glaring toward Thorin, he would have readily placed a dagger in his side. He didn't deserve her, but at least if he had her, they would be miserable in their own right.

“Uncle can't even keep his family together and you couldn't save your own soul.” He paused. “You two deserve each other.” Trydian looked at Sebilla when he said his last words to her. He wanted her to see into his eyes, that maybe there was something else underneath the emotions. Trydian went back toward the throne and folded his arms. It was hard enough to look at his sister in pain, let alone be the same race as the thing assaulting her.

[Paroxysm]

It was beginning to become worrisome that so many thought Pendaran had an interest in a sword he had scarcely heard of before he started actively pursuing his goals, mortal-side. What use, after all, would such a bauble be to Pendaran? At most, he could give it to an underling, but, even then, that became a liability due to the frenzying effects of the chaos sword. Yet still, maybe he should collect these swords and lock them away. How many lives would improve as a result?

“Whatever connection you have with the child will be irrelevant,” Pendaran shrugged dismissively but the air around him stirred with invisible power when Thorin began to approach Sebilla.

“Words can cut as easily as a sword, Trydian,” Pendaran chided, “and besides, your sister is stronger than you think. That said,” Pendaran kept his eyes locked onto Thorin, “the girl is going nowhere with you. I have enough problems to deal with.”

Pendaran needed to deal with the Sebilla situation before it grew further out of control and the last thing he needed was Thorin’s influence aggravating things even more. The rift between Trydian and Sebilla, if not visible before was now clearly obvious, and that, too, needed to either be mended or made inconsequential; likewise, Igraine and her entourage made it necessary that things be settled sooner rather than later. Pendaran had a feeling that the solution to all of these problems would have him expending a vast amount of power before it was all said and done.

“Sebilla,” Pendaran said the name carefully and spread his fascination, weaker than before so as to not overwhelm her already fragile mind, throughout the room in a warm, gentle breeze, “I think it would be best if you retire to your quarters. Call Keev if you need the company," he recommended, “and I’ll have guards posted outside your room to prevent any unwanted visitors. The thing inside of you was smart enough to know when to retreat,” he comforted, “and it is smart enough to know what would happen if it harmed you further. It’ll be taken care of.”

There was a promise behind Pendaran’s words - marked by the fury and the anger he still felt for Mikal - and there was something more there, as well, and while Sebilla may not have been able to pick up on it, it was clear that, sympathy or no, Pendaran would at least make good on his offer of protection. At this point, it was not about Trydian’s pact with the Unseelie at all; indeed, in the end, it all came down to the king’s hospitality and his personal obligation to ensure his guests, while staying under his roof, within his influence, did not come to any undue harm.

Pendaran had a short to-do list but all of it was important: He needed to forge an appropriate weapon for Trydian, exterminate or enslave a malicious phantom, keep the harm Thorin could cause Trydian or Sebilla to a minimal so as to prevent him from being more trouble than he was worth, and ensure Sebilla's continued neutrality.

Such was the life of a king.

[Sebilla]

Sebilla blinked back her tears, swallowing them and letting go of Thorin's hand. She smiled wanly at the man that was her Uncle and sketched him a quick curtsey. He had done nothing wrong to her and she wasn't going to dishonor him by being rude. Trydian on the other hand, he deserved to have a house dropped on him. He was being infantile and rude and she wished she could hurt him as much as he hurt her.

Sebilla nodded at King Pendaran before steeling herself and looking at her Brother.

"If I had the power..." Sebilla stopped herself, warring with the demon in her head obviously, and not a few personal flaws. "If I had the ability to knock your head off of your shoulders I would, right this very second. You have no right to treat me the way you are. You are on the edge of losing me for the rest of your miserable long life, Trydian Xanathi-Rivenfelde. Just because you ask for your name to be changed doesn't change your blood. I may not be a demon but I share your blood. Drink it why don't you, you saved the vial. I saw." Sebilla tapped the side of her head and smiled.

Sebilla walked to King Pendaran and knelt at his feet. Out of everyone present besides Thorin he had shown her the most hospitality and care. He who was supposed to be an evil man -- even if it had been for a pact. She would be able to thank him for ridding her of this demon in her head. Sebilla shied away from the Bocan until she got up and left. When the Bocan left Sebilla looked up at Pendaran and let him see her eyes, bright with unshed tears.

"Thank you." It was simple, and she got up and walked out of the room quietly. Once she made it to the room she stripped out of her dress and set it aside. She walked to the wardrobe and pulled on a long shirt, rolled the cuffs of the shirt carefully, and climbed into the bed. She ignored the demon murmuring dark things in her head as she fell fast asleep under the coverlet that had been spun from pure spider silk. As she slept the small spiders crawled over her, weaving in and out of her hair, trying to ease the strain in her skull.

They had a liking of the young human girl, she hadn't tried to crush them like most humans. That also meant that anyone that made it past the guards would have them to contend with, and they were poisonous -- when they put their minds to it.

[Thorin]

Thorin watched Sebilla pull away. The words Trydian poisoned her with, set his rage into another motion. He was not angry at King Pendaran, in fact, he was grateful for the man's self-control. Unlike Trydian, King Pendaran was sure of himself and not flaunting his arrogance. During that one rare instant, Thorin was beginning to see the different sides of the men very clearly.

Father....when Sebilla muttered the news, he realized he hadn't even given himself time to cope. Igraine would be in her world of comfort, but he only had himself to go to right now. At least they were living and so far, out of the grasp of King Pendaran. Thorin remembered his words about the Bocan's child, but he wondered if he could actually kill a helpless child. He doubted it.

Looking toward Trydian, he put some use to his reflexes and grabbed at his arm. His hand dug into him like a claw, piercing the flesh with immediate precision and purposed pain. Trydian might cry out, but he was already glaring into his eyes and daring him to open his mouth. Thorin let his dark energy crawl along the arm of Trydian, giving him the impression that he was there to do more, but it never went further than just that. The spent energy simply helped Thorin have a better grasp in case he decided to suddenly run.

“You are protected by your King, but once that is removed, I wonder how long you'll last?” Thorin made the gesture look as though he were simply having a conversation with him. “Do not speak to your sister, do not look at her, do not make any gestures, or I will attack you myself and not regret the consequences.” Thorin whispered harshly, wondering how long Trydian could last in a fight with him. The young demon wasn't trained properly and he let his ego get in the way. “Unlike you, I have nothing to lose.”

Thorin spoke of Trydian's demonic soul, knowing that that would create a stir. Being Vuri had released him of the torment of having a demonic spirit residing in him. If he couldn't protect Sebilla directly, then he could at least protect her indirectly and make sure that Trydian understood.

Releasing Trydian, he watched the blood pour down in thin crimson coppery scented streams. The wound wouldn't be deep enough to scar, but he had released enough of his energy to leave a scathing mark.

Thorin knew that he was being tested and he didn't blame King Pendaran for Trydian's words. He made his way toward his own room, being polite in his own right and casually thanked the man.