glacial_queen | SaDiablo Hall, Dhemlan, Kaeleer

It was only a short walk to Hathaway, but Lucivar had felt like riding into town anyway. It might have had something to do with the number of times Dinah had kicked him in the knee during their spar--not that he'd admit that aloud to anyone.

Now, of course, his horse (and his companion's) were tied up outside the tavern. "The ale here is good," he said, signaling the witch behind the tavern. "Not particularly strong, but flavorful. Meatpie?"

Lucivar was getting at least three for himself.

A few ales, yes, and some time spent away from the cacophony of women - and he included Merlin in that (although, all right, he wasn't that eager to get away from the boy, but for the sake of the insult) - was a godsent.

"I could do with one," Arthur agreed, lightly. He'd done a good job so far of not paying attention to Lucivar's wings. He intended to keep that up. "Of both. I haven't had decent ale in all my time in Fandom."

"And that," Lucivar drawled, "might be the most terrifying thing I've heard about the place, and that includes the lack of Craft."

Whether it was because Lucivar was a regular, an Ebon-Gray Jeweled Warlord Prince, a SaDiablo, or some combination of the three, they got their ales before he finished speaking--dark and rich, with just a bit of a frothy head.

"Meat pies out just as soon as they're warmed, Prince," the maid said with a smile.

"Thank you, Alyss," Lucivar said, handing a mug to Arthur. And then raised his mug to him. "To a bit of quiet."

Lucivar had never reached the depth of loathing for witches that Daemon had, but that didn't mean he wasn't happy to be away from them for a bit. Even now in Kaeleer, where he he liked the majority of females he knew.

"To a bit of quiet," Arthur agreed, his own mug lifted high, "And a moment with a fine pint of ale."

He took a swig of his mug once the toast was complete, looking a bit amused for all that as he lowered it. "Lady Angelline told me you volunteered yourself for her army," he said. "It didn't sound like you gave her much of a choice."

His tone was amused, if approving.

Edited 2010-04-05 18:46 (UTC)

Lucivar snorted and then chuckled. "Her confusion came in when she thought she had a choice in the matter," he said, approving of Arthur's choice to use 'Lady Angelline.' He didn't approve of all these strange males calling her Jaenelle--but that was a different matter. "She doesn't think she wants an army. Doesn't think she'll need one. She can keep thinking that if she wants, but I'm not about to let that stop me."

"Until such time there's no such thing as countries, every ruler should have an army," Arthur agreed. Half the cause of his thoughtful state in these lands had to do with how familiar they were even if they weren't - titles and all. "And someone wise enough to know how to use it. Are you planning their tactics as well?"

Lucivar nodded in agreement with Arthur's words. Even here in peaceful Kaeleer, the Blood had to be ready. He knew that sooner or later Dorothea and her bitch-Queens would get tired of despoiling Terreille's corpse and look to greener pastures. And he'd be damned if he'd let them take Kaeleer without a fight.

"To some extent," he answered. "My Uncle, Andulvar Yaslana, is primarily--" and unofficially "--in charge of strategies and tactics. He was a general in the last war, so it makes sense for him to continue his post now."

Besides, seventeen hundred years as a pleasure slave didn't for tacticians make.

"Mmm," Arthur hummed along as he listened. He took another sip of his ale, considering it. It really was good. "How long ago was that war, that he isn't participating in training right now?"

A pause.

"I don't mean any disrespect, obviously. My father is officially our tactician in Camelot, but it has been a long time since he's been able to join us in battle proper."

Lucivar's mouth quirked up a bit. "The last war was fifty thousand years ago," he said, trying to sound as if that wasn't a stupid-long time for him, either. "And he does train. He's just at one of the family's other holdings right now."

In Hell. As you do--at least, if you were a SaDiablo.

"He and my older brother, Mephis, are keeping an eye on one of the bitches who are going to make Jaenelle need that army." Mephis's mother.

...It was a complicated family tree.

There was a very long pause.

Arthur made a valiant effort not to choke on his ale, and three-quarters of the way succeeded. "That is quite a fair share of time," he admitted. "Take it that's a magic thing. You're planning for a war?"

"A bit. He's demon-dead, not a Guardian like the High Lord," Lucivar 'explained,' not even realizing that death might not work the same in other worlds.

"But, yes, we are. I don't know how much Karla has told you of the politics of Terrielle--if she even knows about them. But Kaeleer is one Realm. Terreille is another. Fifty thousand years ago, Terreille tried to invade Kaeleer. There are a few people in Terreille who wouldn't mind trying again. Especially since most people in both Realms have forgotten the others Realms exist."

"So Tereille is like another country," said Arthur, who was starting to regret not bringing Merlin along.

Not that he'd ever admit that the boy helped him understand any of this stuff.

"Have you fought them before?" Now that was an insane question if he'd ever uttered one - fifty thousand years! - and yet he found himself asking it anyway.

"Not quite," Lucivar said. Fortunately, the meat pies arrived at that exact moment, giving Lucivar something handy to illustrate with. Leaving one pie on the table, he used Craft to float the other two above it in a column. "There are three Realms in this world. Hell," he pointed to the pie on the table, "Kaeleer," the middle pie, "and Terreille." Rather than pointing, he floated the top pie over to Arthur, and set it down on the table, figuring the other male could figure it out for himself. "Terreille and Kaeleer are broken up into Territories, like Dhemlan, where we live, Glacia, where Karla's from, and Sceval, the unicorn's Territory. The three Realms are linked by a series of thirteen Gates where, if you know how, you can cross to one Realm to another. Unless, of course, you die, make the transition to demon-dead, and end up in Hell."

Aren't you glad you asked, Arthur?

"As for fighting Terreille..." Lucivar's eyes went flinty. "I've been fighting it my entire life. I was destroying Courts before I passed my hundredth birthday."

Yeah, fully getting a grasp on any of this was far beyond Arthur's future, but the imagery worked well enough on a basic level to communicate the idea to him.

Magic.

It was still very... out there. But he would take it, this time.

"So you have thirteen points of entry to cover," he surmised, instead, "Depending on Tereille's interests. Sounds like quite a job; no wonder you're whipping the witches into shape."

Whipping. Witches. Maybe Arthur should brain himself on the table rather than sit here pretending to be a diplomat.

Lucivar raised an eyebrow at Arthur's imagery, but, paternal bloodline aside, hewas no smooth-tongued Hayllian, either. Though Arthur would be better off not using that phrase ever, ever again. Especially since, if one looked hard enough, they could see the tracery of whip scars on his back.

"It doesn't help that Terreille, for all that it's still broken into a bunch of Territories, is completely under the rule of a single female." Dorothea. Darkness, the name was a foul taste in his mouth and he hadn't even said it yet. He signaled for another ale to try to wash it away. "Until Jaenelle sets up her Court at Ebon Askavi, Kaeleer doesn't have that kind of unification. And if we tried before then, there are some places, like Glacia, that will actively work against us."

"Lady Angelline endeavours to unify all of Kaeleer?" Arthur prompted, tilting his head up. He hated that he was interested; the stories about him were nothing more than a pipe dream, and despite Merlin's blathering, he shouldn't have any interest in tales of equal pursuits. "The lands I come from are not entirely unlike yours in that," he started, looking for some context. "Albion isn't anywhere near unified. So far, we haven't had to weather a foe like yours, but there's always someone trying to gnaw at our shores."

A pause.

"I can't blame her."

Well, right now Lady Angelline didn't want to rule over anything, but Lucivar wasn't going to mention that. She'd do what was needed when the time came.

"My sister is more than just an ordinary Queen," Lucivar said quietly. "She's Witch, the living myth. The Queen of Ebon-Askavi doesn't just rule over a Territory or even a Realm. She rules over the Blood entire." Lucivar considered the issue. "Though, even if she wasn't, she'd need to do something very similar. If Kaeleer stands up to Terreille piecemeal, we'll be destroyed."

"A house divided," he muttered, the phrase bubbling up from one of his professor's lectures, he was fairly sure.

It added to that pit of unease in his gut that had been there since Merlin had started rabbiting on about his destiny. "Well," Arthur said, sipping his ale. "At least Kaeleer does not seem to be short great warriors. Even if the women do complain." With a slight smirk.

He hadn't a bloody clue what Witch or living myth or ruling over the entire Blood entailed, exactly, but magic affairs really weren't his, and he'd take it as read.

"In Fandom, they talk about a Queen who'll rule all of Albion one day," he continued. "By the sounds of it, she wasn't one to be trifled with."

SaDiablo Hall, Dhemlan, Kaeleer

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables

Re: The stables