| Poetic Irony; attn: Sienna & Jethro | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 23 2011, 01:49 AM (141 Views) | |
| Keira Feireon | Feb 23 2011, 01:49 AM Post #1 |
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Black Widow
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((ooc: This post takes place after "Seeing Double" & "Lying in Wait")) Keira could barely contain her glee. The look in Kameron's eyes when she'd seen Galen standing above her had been worth the marks she'd spent to pay for his way to Shalador. Pacing back and forth in her room she ran through the whole event over and over again, her skirts swishing as she turned at each end of the small room. Keira had soaked up every moment of it, feeling more than a little vindicated. It served Kameron right, she'd been the one to steal Galen away from her in the first place. And Kameron had refused to give him up even though it had been clear that she wasn't strong enough to handle a Prince like Galen. Keira would never have let him control her like Kameron did, she would have kept the leash on him too tight for that. Keira was darker than he was after all. Technically so was Kameron but she'd never had the nerve to stand up to him herself. Of course now her and Galen were going to have to lay low. They wouldn't want that dark-jewelled lover of Kameron's running into them downtown. Keira shuddered as she remembered the pure fury that had been in his eyes when he'd first seen her. The only other time she'd seen such rage was with Sasha. The Warlord Prince caste was not one to fool with lightly, especially when dark Jewels were involved. She just couldn't help herself. As long as she could remember she'd been trying to make people understand that Kameron was weak and nothing compared to her. Being identical twins Keira could never escape her association with Kameron and she hated it. Still, the reunion couldn't have gone better. Keira was certain that Kameron wouldn't want her new beau to know of her past. And despite his bravado Sasha had always had a soft spoke for his soft-spoken little sister. But Keira didn't expect him to bend to Kameron's request. He'd be sniffing around Shalador soon enough, trying to find out what was going on. Keira knew she didn't have much time. She just needed to cause enough chaos for the Territory Queen to see how incapable Kameron was of dealing with anything and she'd drop her from her position as High Priestess. And with all the secrets Kameron had been keeping surely an Ebon-Gray Warlord Prince would realize he could do better. Kameron would be finally put in her place and seen for the spineless weakling that she was. Then there would only be the small issue of Galen himself. The idiot had sunk so low since his exile from Dhemlan at Sasha's hand. What kind of fool was he to think that Sasha would just roll over and let Galen and his family back like nothing had happened? Sasha would kill Galen as soon as he found out that he was troubling Kameron again. In fact, he might even come to Shalador himself to kill the fool. Keira frowned, she wouldn't want to be around if Sasha did come here. Despite leaving Dhemlan she still drew on the accounts Sasha kept open for her and topped up with a monthly “allowance.” She didn't want him to withdraw that income, then she'd have to find regular work. Selling her poisons and potions made decent money but without her income from those accounts she would not be able to live in the manner she was accustomed to enjoying. Her musing was cut short as a demanding knock on her door resounded through the room. No doubt it was Galen. He'd tried to convince her to take him to her bed as soon as he'd arrived but Keira had flat out refused. He'd chosen Kameron over her and that choice had been a mistake that had cost him the opportunity of ever being with her. Besides, he was a scruffy poor labourer now, not the wealthy Aristo he'd been before. Like she would waste her time on someone like him, he wasn't even as handsome as he'd been before. Still he would demand she join him for her meals downstairs and then have a drink with him before she went up to her room alone. In the last two days it had already become their ritual. All throughout lunch she listened to Galen's gloating about the way he had frightened Kameron and what he intended to do after she was disgraced and kicked out of Sienna's Court. And he was back in his “rightful” place in Dhemlan. He was sure that Kameron would come crawling back to him begging him to forgive her and take her back. The half-crazed glimmer in his eyes had even Keira's skin crawling and she refused to think about what one could suffer under a mind like Galen's. By the time he ordered a drink for her she was gritting her teeth wondering what she'd ever seen in him. Downing her drink she excused herself and marched up the stairs that lead to the personal rooms. Galen caught up to her as she neared her room and tried again to charm her into letting him spend the night with her. Apparently in his near drunken stupor he thought he was irresistible. Keira snapped at him and had just put her key to the door when she felt something change in the air.... |
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| Jethro Rayne | Feb 24 2011, 04:55 PM Post #2 |
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First Escort to the Queen of Shalador, Warlord Prince of Sayaia
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Jethro Rayne, Ebon-Gray Warlord Prince, was furious. For the sake of the woman in his arms, however, he did his best to stifle it. Kam looked up at him, her eyes full of tears and confusion and fear. Seeing that, Jethro had to make another massive effort to stay back from the killing edge. Nobody did this to the woman he loved and walked away from it, he silently vowed. Keira was dead meat, but Galen, oh, Galen he would take his time with. Everything had a price, and this one would be extracted to the fullest before sending the filth into the Darkness. Kameron reached up and caressed his face, her face set in desperation. “Jethro, I need you to promise not to hurt Keira unless it's absolutely necessary. She's my sister, no matter what else happens I can't let her get hurt if there is any other way for us to deal with her.” Jethro swore to himself, silently. He took a deep breath, then chose his words carefully. “If I can deal with this any other way, she will walk away from this fight.” He could see that Kam wasn’t fully satisfied with his answer, but it was the best she would get from him. His honor and his anger wouldn’t allow anything more. Jethro stood, drawing Kameron up with him. He walked with her back into the house, and the two of them went to supper with the rest of the Court. Jethro wasn’t much good for conversation and brooded all through the meal, then without speaking, took Kameron up to his suite. Kameron dressed for bed, then went to the shelf and pulled out a book. Jethro made a motion to stop her, but she cut him short. ”Jethro, darling, I love you, but I’ll be damned if I’m going quietly to bed while you go to do what I know you’re going to do. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.” “All right,” Jethro replied quietly. He changed into a pair of black suede leather pants, soft boots that would be comfortable and silent, then a black cotton shirt. Sure, wearing all black sounded like something out of a cheap adventure story, but Jethro was in a foul mood, and if he looked like Death itself, so much the better. He usually didn’t carry a weapon, but tonight, he slid a sturdy knife with a six-inch blade into a sheath, then attached the sheath to his belt. He went to where Kameron was sitting up in bed, watching him. Leaning over, he kissed her forehead, then left the room. He went to Sienna’s study, figuring she would be with Caleb, and wrote a brief note which he left on her desk. Then he moved quickly down the stairs to the front door, and passing through the wood, left the manor. Once outside, Jethro went into the village. As he reached the outskirts, he paused for a second, considering, then went to the inn, figuring it would be a good starting point. He stepped through the door, raising a skin-tight shield around himself as he did so. The barkeeper had become a friend since Jethro’s arrival in Shalador and gave him a friendly greeting. “Evening, Clem. There wouldn’t happen to be a Purple Dusk Black Widow here, medium height with long-ish dark hair, staying with a Rose Prince, tall, good-looking guy?” ”As it happens, there would be. They just went to their rooms. The Prince was pretty drunk, Jeth.” “Which room?” Jethro wanted to know. ”Upstairs, second and fourth doors on the left after you turn the corner. The girl insisted on separate rooms.” Jethro thanked him, then went upstairs. There in the hall, just outside the door to the second room, stood Keira, about to enter her room, with a Rose-Jewelled Prince stumbling drunkenly down the hall, away from Keira with his back to Jethro. Jethro was beside Keira before she knew he was there. He grabbed her, covering her mouth to keep her from alerting Galen, and forced her into the room. Jethro spoke quietly into her ear. “You remember me?” She nodded. “Good. Now I’m going to let go of your mouth. You are going to call Galen back in here. Your sister doesn’t want you dead, but me, I’m not so particular. Savvy?” He released her, and she went to the door and stuck her head out into the hall, where Galen was fumbling with the key to his room. ”Galen? Can you come in here for a minute?” She closed the door, and Jethro pushed her into a chair, binding her to it with strands of Ebon-Gray power. He took a fighting stance, facing the door, and as Galen entered, Jethro struck him a sharp blow to the face. Galen staggered back, adrenaline and fear of the enraged Warlord Prince facing him coursing through his veins, sobering him up almost instantly. Jethro allowed Galen to regain his balance and start to square up to fight before delivering another punch to the Dhemlan’s gut. Following with a left and a right to the body, Jethro knocked Galen to the floor. Galen attempted to rise, but Jethro lashed out with a kick to Galen’s ribs, sending him back down. Jethro reached down, grabbing Galen by his shirt front and pulling him to his feet before smashing him in the face again with another blow from his fist. Galen’s head snapped back, then he threw a wild haymaker at Jethro’s head. Jethro ducked the punch, then threw two lightning punches into the Prince’s torso. Beaten, Galen sagged against the wall, then slumped to the floor. Jethro stood over him, breathing heavily from the fight, then he knelt beside the battered Dhemlanese bastard. Galen was still conscious, and his face was full of fear as he saw his own death in Jethro’s eyes. “Do you know who I am?” Jethro asked. ”Jethro Rayne, I presume,” Galen replied, trying to be defiant and failing miserably. “That’s right. Knowing that, I would suppose you know what I’m here for and why. You beat and abused a witch, degraded her with the cruelest treatment I’ve ever heard of. You’re a sick bastard, Galen Marsters. Everything has a price, and,” Jethro drew his knife, “I’m here to make sure you pay it.” Galen’s eyes widened and he tried to struggle, but he was never had a chance. |
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1:23 AM Jul 11