glacial_queen: (The Hall/Keep)
The atmosphere in the Keep was tense. Jaenelle had retreated to her suites completely and Daemon was stalking through the hallways like an angry black crow. More reports were coming in from Glacia, more attacks on villages, some by the pair masquerading as Lucivar and Daemon, still others by 'freedom fighters' backed by Hobart.

Karla and Rook had been rescued from the estate in Sidra almost four weeks ago. A few days later, Jaenelle had summoned the entirety of her First Circle to the Keep to prepare for war. Two weeks ago, Karla had disobeyed her Healer and her common sense and had left the sickroom, refusing to remain abed any longer. A few days ago, Karla had disobeyed her Queen and left the Keep.

In the intervening days, there'd been neither sign nor word from her.

Just like there'd been no word from Luthvian. Or from Marion and Daemonar.

Between the list of the missing and the dead, the Keep was like a powder keg just waiting for a spark.

Don't kill the messenger... )

[NFI. NFB, all in prep for this weekend! Warning under the cut for ultraviolence against an NPC. Many thanks to [ profile] showmetheproof for her NPCing skills and [ profile] whateverknight's amazing preplay coder!!]
glacial_queen: (Betrayed)
Lucivar felt his shield quiver. It was about to go down again. Cassidy and Morton might be able to put up another one after his came down, but what was the point? They both still wore their Birthright Jewels and those were light Jewels at that. Under the constant onslaught of the Jhinka, they'd have another two, maybe two and a half hours before their Jewels were drained, too.

Even if Aaron and the others showed up now, it was doubtful they'd be able to do much to turn the tide of the battle. Six thousand Jhinka, even lacking Craft as they did, were just too damn many.

No, better to save their strength. Maybe between the combined strength of all of Karla's friends, they'd be able to escape.

He spared a thought for the young male, Ender, who'd had a plan that might hopefully get them out of all this. Idly, he wondered if it would have worked, indeed, if it could work still. If he would have a chance of pulling it off before Lucivar's Craft failed, if he could somehow pull it off at all.

Maybe. Still, it was a slim thread to rest all their hopes on. Lucivar couldn't rely on 'maybes,' not when his Queen's life was at stake.

"Morton," he called. 'Ask Jaenelle and Karla to join me here.' )

[And we are done--though just for the night! NFI, NFB, OOC is golden. Warning in place for death of an NPC and ultraviolence. Text taken, spindled, mutilated, and folded into origami cranes from Anne Bishop's Heir to the Blood, Chapter Thirteen. Preplayed with rockstars, yo. Plot post masterlist found here.

Also, that long ping about Jaenelle being even prettier now? Straight from the text. Oh, Anne Bishop. Why you so crazy?]
glacial_queen: (Authority)
[Continued from here]

After Lucivar finished recounting the numbers arrayed against them, he pushed himself to his feet, calling in his war blade and his bladed Eyrien sticks. "I'll be outside," he growled. "Too much fear in here."

It grated against his nerves, scraped against his precarious self-control. The fact that he had wings like their attackers only made things worse--much of the landen fear in the building was directed at him.

"I've been letting a few in at a time," he continued, "opening holes in the shield to let them through. Killing ten or twenty in the face of thousands doesn't do much, but--" He shrugged. What else was there to do? )

[Same alphabet soup goes here. Warning for violence. Again, still mostly 'inspired by' events in Chapter 13 of Heir to the Shadows. Part two of two; for master post list, please go here.]
glacial_queen: (Listening)
The situation, as haltingly described by both Karla and Lucivar, was dire. Even with Karla and Jaenelle restricting their Craft to the most life-threatening of injuries, there were still a double-handful or more upstairs who were in immediate danger, in addition to the hundreds below who were still grievously wounded. Six thousand Jhinka were outside, willing to fling themselves at the shield and certain death, simply to wear away at it and bring it crashing down.

Lucivar was wearing his Birthright Red Jewels, the Ebon-gray drained almost to the point of shattering, and the reservoir in the Red was precipitously low, too. Karla's Sapphire no longer glowed with its usual inner light; she barely had enough Craft left to light a candle.

Food had run out the day before. The well had dried up that morning. Anything edible that the three of them had carried with them was long since devoured.

And still the psychic witch storm howled on outside, cutting them off from communicating with anyone.

More help would arrive in hours, but honestly? They didn't have that long. )
glacial_queen: (I give up)
Karla leaned against the door of the community center and gratefully took the mug of coffee one of Mari's helpers passed to her. It tasted rough and muddy. She didn't care. At that moment, she might have drunk sewer water as long as it was hot. She closed her eyes and tried to absorb a little of the rising's sun's warmth. The predawn air was chilly, but clear. She needed a few moments to clear her head of the scent of pain and blood and fear. She couldn't find enough energy to produce more body heat, so she wrapped her hands around the warm mug and pretended that was enough. It would have to be enough. )

[NFI, NFB, leaving OOC increases your odds of winning the lottery. Events and some bits of text adapted from Chapter Thirteen of Heir to the Shadows. Hey look, no warnings needed! Part 6 (out of roughly eleventy-billion, damn you LJ post limits) of plot. (I, II, III, and IV, V). Tomorrow, all Hell breaks loose.]
glacial_queen: (Sapphire-Jeweled Queen)
Lucivar lay on his back in the young grass, his hands behind his head, his wings spread out to dry after the quick dip in the spring-fed pool. Jaenelle and Karla were still splashing about in the cold water, washing the sweat and dirt out of their long hair. He closed his eyes and groaned contentedly as the sun slowly warmed and loosened tight muscles.

Yesterday, they'd awakened just before dawn to find Jaenelle busily rummaging through the food pack. He'd put together a hasty meal while Karla had broken down the camp before the physical tension produced by the drugs forced Jaenelle to move.

It hadn't been the unrelenting drive of the previous days, and, as the day'd worn on, physical tension gave way to emotional storms. Anger would flood her suddenly, then turn to tears. He'd given her space as she raged and swore. Karla had held her while she cried. When the storm passed, she'd been fine for a little while, perhaps as long as twenty minutes. They'd walked at an easy pace, stopping to pick wild berries or rest near a stream. Karla'd kept them entertained with stories of her crazy school and the friends who were like no Blood males or females they'd ever met. Then the cycle would start over, each time with a little less intensity.

It had still been grueling, mind. The first outburst of emotion had hit around noon, the second, a little before three. In between them, there was still the constant movement, the difficult trek made even moreso by the unforgiving pace Jaenelle had set. The intervals had shortened as Jaenelle's body tired, but even their last stretch before making camp for the night had been an hour-long hike, most of it uphill.

Which made today's late start, with the chance to sleep in past sunrise and even bathe a bit, something akin to paradisaical. Smoke was off doing a bit of hunting; the wolf had scented a herd of elk and had gone off to explore. When he came back, Lucivar was thinking of sending him back to the Keep to tell Saetan that they were all right, that Karla was with them, and that they'd be coming home from Askavi in a few more days.

Not that he was going to say anything, but he was proud of Karla. The pace was wearing on her, but she refused to complain and did her best to keep up. She wouldn't know it, but Jaenelle was slowing down a bit for her, making sure Karla didn't get outdistanced. Lucivar was grateful for anything that made Jaenelle take it a little easier. Though the next time the little witch cheated him out of the last mug of coffee, he was going to dunk her into the nearest lake. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC is delicious. Warning for violence. Text adapted from Chapter Thirteen of Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows. All of her narrative is awesome and I never said anything to the contrary. Really. Part 5 of plot (Parts one, two, three, and four). Up early because I have a problem I AM REALLY BUSY TOMORROW, OKAY?]
glacial_queen: (Peeking Thru Foliage)
Lucivar sat on the bank of a creek, finding a little comfort in the rhythmic whack whack whack coming from the clearing. At least destroying the abandoned shack with a sledgehammer gave Jaenelle an outlet for sexual rage and burning energy. Even more important, it was an outlet that would keep her in place for a little while.

Hell's fire, he was tired. The Masters of the Eyrien hunting camps couldn't match Jaenelle's ability to set a grueling pace. Even Smoke, with that tireless, ground-eating trot, was struggling. Of course, unlike one drug-driven witch, wolves liked to do things like eat and sleep, two items now high up on Lucivar's list of sensual pleasures. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC is A-okay. Text stolen and adapted for my own nefarious purposed from Chapter Thirteen of Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows. Part four of plot (Read one, two and three.) For once, no warnings, enjoy that while you can.]
glacial_queen: (Ready for Srs Bizness)
Karla was heading to the courtyard of the Keep, where a portal had been ordered for her return to Fandom. It still felt wrong, oh so wrong, to be heading back to safety and comfort while Jaenelle and Lucivar were out in the wilds of Askavi, circling each other in a dark and dangerous dance. She was supposed to just go home and focus on class while she was wondering if Lucivar still walked the living Realms? If Jaenelle was still suffering from the effects of the safframate? Or--worse yet--wandering the Twisted Kingdom? Even if they needed her and had to summon her back home, it would be days and days until she could return--Kaeleer's time flowed at double the rate of Fandom. Should they discover they needed her skills tomorrow, the earliest Karla could expect to return was next week.

This was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. Maybe if she talked to Saetan once more, this time he would see reason. Or at least get so tired of arguing about it, he'd just let her stay.

She veered off, down the hallway that led to Saetan's suite, marshaling all of her arguments. Presented logically and impartially, she would get through to him. That had been the problem before. She'd let herself get worked up, too emotional. Saetan had seen her as a child, not a witch fully in control of her Craft. Change that and maybe--

"I am so pleased to see the Dark Council has sent a representative to talk about the grievous injuries inflicted in Little Terrielle during Lady Angelline's visit." Saetan's voice floated out of his door, sharp and smooth, like a knife wrapped in silk. Karla stopped--Hell's fire, he wasn't alone. She wouldn't be able to plead her case with him if he was already speaking to someone; especially not a Dark Council representative. But she didn't have time to delay. Her portal was scheduled to arrive in minutes!

Still, she crept closer to the doorway, no compunctions against eavesdropping. Perhaps she would hear something useful to her cause. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC=love. Text adapted from Chapter Thirteen of Heir to the Shadows. Warning for discussion of sexual assault and violence. Sometimes c/p'ing sections of Anne Bishop's dialogue and text makes me want to cry. Part 3 of plot. Parts one and two found here.]
glacial_queen: (Serious queen)
Saetan looked like a man who had barely survived a battlefield.

Judging from the emotional currents flavoring the air around them, Karla was guessing that wasn't all that far from the truth. She closed the door to Jaenelle's sitting room with a near-inaudible thump and waited to be acknowledged.

"My instructions were explicit, Karla." The voice had no strength. The face looked gray and strained. "Leave now."

Karla pointed casually to the Birthright Red Jewels that Saetan wore. "You're going to have the damndest time tossing me out wearing those."

Saetan didn't call in the Black.

It was as Karla'd assumed, then. Whatever Saetan had done to get Jaenelle to the Keep in her present physical and emotional condition had drained the Black. What had happened to put Jaenelle into that condition still had yet to be explained to Karla, however. All Beale had said was that Saetan had been summoned to Little Terreille when something had happened with the Lady and had sent a message that he was bringing her to the Keep and that absolutely no one was to follow him. Karla had listened politely to Beale, nodded her thanks, and had caught the closest Wind to Ebon Askavi before Beale could offer to take her coat. )

[NFI, NFB, OOC=love. Text adapted from Chapter Thirteen of Heir to the Shadows. Warning for discussion of sexual assault and violence. Part 2 of plot.]
glacial_queen: (Sleeping-Tangled Dreaming)
After a busy day of brunch and catching up and residual excitement over being named sophomore princess, Karla had no problem falling asleep. Almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was claimed by dreams. )

Karla woke from her dream with a strangled cry, dragging herself up and out from layers of blankets. The room felt hot as an oven and her hair was plastered to her skin with sweat. None of that mattered. She had to go, to get home. Jaenelle was in trouble. She didn't know what was happening, but it didn't matter. Karla would take care of her afterward. Sweet Darkness, please let there be an afterward.

The cold, the fear, the buzzing had all vanished along with her dream. But within her, she could still feel the bone-deep rage. Mother Night, the rage!


[Warning for allusions to a prior assault. Dream!Warren modded with express permission from [ profile] not_a_parakeet. Snippets of text taken from Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows, Chapter Thirteen. For the roommate only, please. So kicks off the plot!]
glacial_queen: (Serious queen)
The Portal opened up, depositing them on the front lawn of SaDiablo Hall. For those who could sense such things, the Hall emanated with immense power. It seeped into the very stones, the result of millennia of residence by powerful individuals.

The the grounds of the Hall were in full summer bloom; the air was perfumed with flowers and the grass was thick and soft. Towards the south was a thick forest, from its depths came the many-throated howl from a pack of wolves.

At the moment the last person stepped out of the portal, the vast double doors at the front of the Hall opened before them and a tall, older man stepped forward. His black uniform was crisp and starched and a Red Jewel glittered on the front of his brilliantly white shirt.

"Lady Karla," he said, with a bow. "May I welcome you and your friends to SaDiablo Hall."

"Hello Beale," Karla said, giving him a small curtsy in return. "Everyone, this is Lord Beale, the Hall's butler."

Beale gave the assembled students a nod. "If you will all be so kind as to follow me, the High Lord is waiting in the large receiving room to greet you." He stood to the side to let everyone file in, the Hall's double doors were easily big enough for them to enter three abreast, even with him standing there.

Karla, for her own part, got a small wink and a smile before Beale resumed his usual impassive expression.

[Of course there's OCD up! *facepalms for forgetting*]
glacial_queen: (Angry)
Jaenelle was back from Little Terreille. It was like the first time all over again. The fear, the vulnerability, the flashes of the deep rage stemming from the rape that Jaenelle intellectually understood had happened but couldn't remember...They spilled from Jaenelle like a torrent, a psychic witchstorm that Karla couldn't counter and refused to tell Jaenelle she was projecting. If she couldn't help Jaenelle through the pain, the least she could do was share it. They'd clung to each other's hands, hard enough to bruise, and Karla blinked back burning tears while Jaenelle enumerated the dozens of little slights, insults, and humiliations she was forced to endure in Little Terreille, all aimed to bruise a young girl's ego and make her susceptible to a more intimate brutality when she was a little older or less protected.
Read more... )

[NFI, NFB, OOC always welcome.]
glacial_queen: (Concerned)
Part Two

The coven and the boyos were there, waiting for Saetan’s and Andulvar’s return. Karla certainly hadn't been pacing a hole in the carpet and snarling at anyone who got near her, no matter what the boyos said. Besides, she hated being left behind. Hated it.

As soon as Uncle Saetan and Andulvar entered the family drawing room, she pounced on them. "Where's Jaenelle?" Karla asked, trying to look past them. The she paused and truly looked at Uncle Saetan. He had the hunched over posture of a man slowly bleeding to death on the inside. If he were an animal, she’d say he was about to slink off to his den to lick his wounds in private.

She felt loss flicker through his psychic scent, and regret. As if he was looking at them for the last time. Tears pricked at his eyes and he looked as if he couldn’t speak for a moment.

"Uncle Saetan?" Gabrielle asked, searching his face.

Saetan cringed.

"What happened?" Morghann demanded. "Where's Jaenelle?"

Andulvar finally answered. 'The Dark Council is going to choose another guardian. Jaenelle's not coming back.' )

[Okay, really, really done for today. Promise. Text taken and adapted from Chapter Eight of Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows.]
glacial_queen: (Vulnerable)
Part One

He had expected it, even prepared for it. It still hurt.

Jaenelle stood silently in the petitioner's circle, her fingers demurely laced in front of her, her eyes fixed on the seal carved into the front of the blackwood bench where the Tribunal sat. She wore a dress she had borrowed from Karla, and her hair was pulled back in a tight, neat braid.

Knowing the Council watched his every move, Saetan stared at nothing, waiting for the Tribunal to begin their vicious little game.

Because he had anticipated the Council's decision, he'd allowed no one but Andulvar to come with them. Andulvar could take care of himself. He would take care of Jaenelle. The moment the Tribunal announced the Council's verdict, the moment Jaenelle protested and turned to him for help . . .

Everything has a price.

Over 50,000 years ago, he'd been instrumental in creating the Dark Council. Now he'd destroy it. One word from her, and it would be done. )

[I swear I will stop spamming the list soon. I'll post Part Two and then be done till Wednesday. But I can't fall asleep as I'm still all hopped up on caffeine and con and being home with my kittens and so I figured I'd just post a bit more of this. Ummm...NFB, NFI, yadda yadda yadda. OOC is better than a hug from Neil Gaiman. That last bit may be a LIE Text shamelessly stolen from Chapter Eight of Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows.]
glacial_queen: (Serious queen)
Part Two

Jaenelle ghosted down the stairs, tipping a wink and a smile at Beale and Karla—who had both diligently returned to the task of plant care—before setting her face into a polite mask and entering the drawing room. The door remained open. )

(Part Two of Two. NFB, NFI, OOC=pie. Adapted from chapter eight of Anne Bishop's Heir to the Shadows.)
glacial_queen: (Tears)
Karla went flying into Saetan’s study, tears in her eyes. Intellectually, she knew she was being silly, knew that this was just another sign that she was still healing from the other Fandom, knew that she was probably just going to get the boyos up in arms over nothing again, but she couldn’t help it. Knowing all that didn’t stop her from hurting over his words. It was like being in Glacia again: the silent judgment; the telegraphed ideas that she didn’t, couldn’t measure up; the repeated mantra of “ladies don’t do this and ladies don’t do that,” never mind that Karla wasn’t a lady, she was a witch!

Sniffling, Karla exploded into the room. )

[Text adapted from Heir to the Shadows by Anne Bishop. NFI, NBI, OOC = lovings.]
glacial_queen: (Solemn)
The landing web beckoned Karla, and she launched herself out of the Winds down to the brightly glowing Jewels below. Landing neatly, she took a moment just to inhale. It smelled of Kaeleer; of strong, dark psychic scents tempered with kindness and the need to protect. Of plants and herbs that only grew here. Of wildlife and water and, most importantly, of Witch.

"Lady Karla, it is a pleasure to see you again."

"Beale!" Karla grinned, running up to the doorway of the Hall. The Red-Jeweled Warlord gave her a warm smile of welcome--more emotion than the impassive butler usually allowed--at least until he caught a hint of her psychic scent. Then, without warning, he reached down, scooped her in his arms, and began carrying her toward the High Lord's study.

Karla was a little annoyed and a little embarrassed that he was carrying her and also a little flattered that he hadn't called one of the footmen to do it. Though from the way Holt had gone by them to shut the door, some kind of message had been sent on a spear thread. Males, she thought fondly.

Uncle Saetan was sitting behind his great blackwood desk when she was deposited in his office. )

[Establishy. NFI, NFB, OOC is love]
glacial_queen: (Wicked grin)
“Morton!” Karla yelled over her shoulder. “We are late! I can’t believe you let me sleep so long! By the Darkness, I am going to hex you!” Karla was running up the long drive to SaDiablo Hall. The invitation had said that the party started at three, and here is was, already five past. And they were still outside.

“Hex me? How?” Morton called back. He was taking the drive at a brisk walk. He could afford to be so casual; his legs were much longer than hers. “You sound like you’ve been reading novels again.” He knew better than to suggest that after three years, Jaenelle could wait a few more minutes. Karla was seriously pissy about running late. Still, he stood by his decision to let Karla sleep in.

As if she could read his thoughts (and Morton made sure his inner barriers were still high) she turned to yell “Why would you do that?! Especially on today of all days!”

“Because I’d rather have you bitch at me for a few hours because we were late than have you be bitchy all day because you were over-tired,” he said casually. He could say things like that right now because she almost certainly wasn’t going to turn around to kick him. And as long as he stayed out of teeth and leg-reach for the next few hours, he’d be fine.

The Party. Teal Deer Warning in effect. )

(NFB, NFI, OOC = love. Adapted primarily from Chapter 6, Part 7 of Heir to the Shadows by Anne Bishop. I love my crack!canon! There were going to be three of these, but her interview with Saetan will just have to wait till next week. Karla will be back bright and early tomorrow (Monday) morning. Which is probably when I'll pick up pings again)
glacial_queen: (In the dorm)
Karla was all set to have a perfectly ordinary day. Last night had been fun, and it had shaken loose the last bit of sadness that Karla had been clinging to. Sure, she'd promised to talk it over with Ben, which would probably damped her mood a bit, but after her cathartic (if drunken) heart-to-heart with Dinah, it wouldn't be too bad. Besides, she also had another trip to the range with Triela to look forward to, and as well as the rescheduled lesson to teach Ender to dance. And, since the talk hadn't actually happened yet, Karla still in a good mood, if slightly bored.

Her door was open, so the postman didn't even have to knock when he showed up. "Special delivery for Karla," he called.

Curious, Karla set down her script to take take the envelope the male was holding out to her. He saluted and walked away, leaving her to examine her mail. The paper was thick and heavy, made with linen. The calligraphy on the front was elegant, beautiful, and precise. The back of the envelope was sealed with wax, bearing the impression of the Sa Diablo crest.

This was formal, whatever it was.

After probing the envelope with Craft, she broke the seal and pulled out the paper inside. It was a single sheet, with a very simple message:

You are cordially invited to a party to honor Jaenelle Angelline at SaDiablo Hall in Dhemlan. The party will be held in ten days' time at three in the afternoon. And escort is perfectly accepable.

Saetan Daemon SaDiablo

It is Jaenelle's fondest wish for you to attend.

Tears sprang to her eyes again, though, for once, they were happy ones. Jaenelle was awake! She was better! And in a little over a week, Karla would be able to see her!

She hadn't seen Jaenelle since they were twelve and Jaenelle had been 'hurt.' For a while, she had believed that Saetan was somehow involved--he was Jaenelle's guardian, and Karla knew all about the accidents that could befall a girl under her guardian's care. But now...there was no way that Jaenelle would still be there if Saetan had been the one to harm her. And she certainly wouldn't be throwing a party under Saetan's roof. Looks like Morton had been right after all. The blood-sucking corpse really did care for Jaenelle. And for Karla.

It was a good day.

[Mostly establishy (psst! I won't be around the weekend of the 4th, surprise surprise), but open if you don't mind some serious SP]


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