Thegoodfellow​:

It's not the shade we should be casting It's the light, it's the obstacle that casts it It's the heat that drives the light It's the fire it ignites It's not the wakin', it's the risin' It's not the song, it is the singin' It's the heaven of the human spirit ringin' It is the bringin' of the line It is the bearin' of the rhyme It's not the wakin', it's the risin'

title: the hunt continues when: post the tinkerer where: rome, Audelë, more trigger warnings: usual stuff

Agony.

Tamlen’s death had been painful, the drainage that followed a rip on their plan. But Tamlen had come back to them against all odds, and the relief had been overwhelming.

Inan hadn’t.

His death feels like being unraveled, like losing a part of herself that she assumed would always be there. The second heartbeat behind her chest is gone, the thread of devotion and steely determination rotting away as death came to take her warder’s hand. Somewhere, a drow is being born. In Rome, Robin’s warder dies, an unfinished melody, a hunt cut short. 

She hadn’t even been able to convince him to call her by her name. 

Lain’s death had hurt, the growing care she had felt for the lycan, a sharp stab to her chest, but she had not loved the wolf. Not quite, not yet, and now never for he is gone, and she knows that even if Death was the one to collect what was due, she had played a part in that game. It is a tragedy, a story unfinished. 

It was not love. 

Inan was her warder, she had welcomed him in and invited him into her soul. Loving him was not unlike loving a part of herself. She had kept that emotion at bay, well aware that she had done nothing to earn anything from him but his loyalty, suppressing it to prevent any more awkwardness between the two. Inan’s story with Fen’harel is well known, and she would not push through his boundaries after that betrayal. 

Would not have. 

But in the end, it did not matter.

Her warder is dead, decay spreading through Rome as Thanatos collects his due, and all Robin can do within the Titan is sink her thoughts with her fellow Chancellors and fall upon the song of destruction they are weaving until they cannot do so any longer. 

The Titan falls, and with the fall, their end is marked. 

There is no opportunity to fight, no magic to summon, no song capable of stopping the Great Old Ones as they fall upon them like predators upon their prey.  

The next fifteen years are spent in the ground, all thought lost beneath the agony of the song of decay and rot, of the end and the beginning. 

The darkness is a familiar call, the pain an old comfort, akin to the ritual that had seen her confirmed into her role as Fall Chancellor. A legacy of the Dusk Elves that they once were, the ritual recalled costumes of old, and it is now the only reason Robin does not lose her mind to the slow movement of rot, slowly spreading through her body but keeping her alive to keep their nutrients. It’s a song of fungi, beautiful on its ugliness, on its destruction. She doesn’t lose herself to it, doesn’t break down and lose hope, but it comes close. Were it not for the familiarity of the torture, she might have.

She doesn’t. 

She awakens to the astral bombs falling and to freedom that tastes as sickly sweet as the rot that had settled on the back of her throat over the last decade. There is no hesitation when she joins the other Chancellors into a song and they come together to become the Titan once more. 

For one last time in this timeline. 

Robin dies in the battlefield, only to awaken in a Rome that has not yet been Forsaken. 

The battle is set aside, more pressing matters coming into the forefront as they find themselves changed. The Chancellors’ retreat, the war pushed back and with it their destruction of Rome, far more important things to do than to deal with the mortals that destroyed them and saved them alike. The world changed one more time, and Robin changed with it, working with the four other chancellors to create Audelë, a new home, alike the Courts that sheltered them for so long, but something new altogether in the same breath.  As the dust settles, she finds Inan, brings him forth into a hug despite his arguments against it and laughs before letting go, polite distance that he is so fond of falling upon the two once more. 

Peace fell upon their kind once more, a deal with the dark elves set in place. And the Courts? The Courts protected once more.

It’s not enough. 

It will never be enough, but her people deserve the rest. Dusk has fallen upon them, and with it comes a new world they need to learn for themselves. Ignoring it all in reckless rage would be foolish, and the tricksters that hide in the shade are anything but that. 

They will wait, they will watch, and they will be ready.

The hunt is eternal, and so are they.

who? @meryasek where? Laurelin, Audulë  notes: doing the randomize top songs thing and got raise hell by dorothy

"How is the wedding planning going?" She asks as she settles next to the fey'ri in one of the Laurelin's branches, offering a cluster of juicy grapes as she uses her magic to occasionally pop some of her own cluster into her mouth as she keeps her gaze wandering around the Laurelin branches and beyond, into the glimpses of the courts that they can catch through the leaves. "Did you set a date?"

conquestofuriel​:

☨

He hummed in agreement, acknowledging the massive problem that The Eye was. But the Blessed had not touched down upon this world to deal with one human organization, no matter how large it was. “The rest of the world is not a concern of mine at the moment,” Uriel replied, circling the bottom of the glass on the table. “This is the epicenter. This is where my siblings will be weakened if The Eye decides to strike with their moly poisoning.” He sighs.  

“The Drow Queen is allied to the cause of the Necronomicon and the Asphodel. I know how she harms you and your people. Is it not time to put down arguments that are pitiful in the face of truly banding together, your forest and the Senate, to defeat this common enemy?”

...

“Pitiful? Truly, this is your attempt at diplomacy?” She snorts, taking a sip into her drink as she raises a brow at Uriel in clear judgement. Intelligence does not equal wisdom, just as DnD deems it, and it is clear Uriel lacks wisdom to balance his intelligence and age. As old as he is, there seems a lack of common fucking sense bouncing around that magic essence of his. Not that she is truly surprised by that information. “You are correct in that the Drow Queen harms our people, but so has the Eye, and my King has deemed them a threat as well. I understand your worry and your desperation, but dismissing and mocking our concerns is not the solution if you desire for us to work together, Uriel.”

There is a weight to her shoulders that she had never expected to receive, a newly settled sense of duty that she cannot avoid. Suddenly, the world had gone off balance, the knowledge she held as true changed with the blink of an eye. Fen’harel was a traitor, and she is the new Autumn Chancellor. The drows return, and the Eye moves. The Blessed are scattered throughout the mortal realm. They lost so many to Asphodel’s spite. She is worried and grieving, both beyond compare, the weight of what is to come settling over her shoulders, and yet, she cannot show it. She is now the newest Chancellor, and leaders cannot be weak in front of those that look up to them. Not to the young eladrin and not to anyone else.

“That depends, dear. I personally recommend you learn more than the basics of self-defense, as things are likely to get complicated,” she begins, expression calm yet warm as she eyes the youngest fey. “But tell me, what do you want to do?

                         @thegoodfellow​.

               “Robin?” Èdelie called out, still frizzled from the aftermath of prior events. Cluelessness cannot describe the position the brunette is left in, satisfied that all has fallen back in place, yet mortified of what’s potentially left to come. Body unable to physically move, paleness overtook her features, croakily inquiring, “What do we do now?” Because something must be done, and at this rate, she’d do anything to ensure proper reparations for all feys. Though the idea of getting blood on her hands somewhat startled her, Èdelie physically and emotionally felt defeated, suspiring defeat and tiredness.

who? @wintersaurora @zahryaofspring @chancellorxlaer where? rome when? after the power rangers depowered notes: not a four way dw, it's just a general open for the three of you

"There you are," a sigh of relief leaves her lips as she reaches her fellow Chancellor. Inan had given her an overview of the situation, but their plan has been set and they require the Titan's strength to continue. Tamlen's death is a tragedy, and she worries they won't be able to continue without him, worries that Thanatos cancelling death will not apply to their kind and they have lost yet another one individual. But she cannot think like that, not when every minute is essential and she has to find the other Chancellors in order to determine if they can proceed as planned or adjust. "Do you know where the others fell?"

who? @chancellorxlaer where? Laurelin, Audulë  notes: doing the randomize top songs thing and got de selby part 1 by hozier

There is no denying the wonder she always feels as she sees the Laurelin standing tall above all the courts. A stalwart reminder of everything they had fought for, everything they had survived, and everything they had suffered over the past year, and what they would have suffered had the future not changed. Titania had sacrificed everything for them, and she guesses the other five had too, and for that and that alone, she had lifted her curse. Peace is required for now, but the Dusk Court will not forget. Their kind long life lends for long grudges, and Robin will ensure that her people are not endangered by the Eye once more.

She will make sure of it.

"How fares your Court? Have you finished building it?" She inquires as she feels the Sun Chancellor approach, the shimmering heat of the deserts that have begun to grow bordering her territory.

who? @alekgray

where? the boundary between the King’s Forest and New Rome

“I kept an eye out during Mercuralia, but they are truly getting awfully bold now that the Senate has allied with them,” Robin mentions idly as she steps out of the woods and closer to Alek, a disgruntled look on her face even as she nods politely to the Alpha. They are here to talk business, after all, and she is not Zahrya. It is amusing to see him petting the Lycans, almost tempting to do the same at times, but there is a time and a place for everything, and she doubts Alek would be as enthused with her petting as he is with Zahrya’s. Their bond is rather different to her connection with the Alpha, after all. “Most of that technology was new too.”

zahryaofspring​:

✿*ﾟ ‘ﾟ･

Dislike for mortals? A hundred, even a thousand years ago, the notion might’ve made Zahrya chuckle. After all, it made no sense to harbor negative emotions for creatures so far beneath him. Pity sure, but blatant dislike? He could’ve denounced the idea completely once, but truth is fluid and the mouth of his changeling remains open unspeaking for he can tell no lies.

“Until they are reminded of their place, the denizens of this realm should not expect any love from me. Either we can wait for that, or we can remind them ourselves.” When the changeling finally vocalizes Zahrya’s words, it comes out as a gravelly hiss. The vines wrapped around its body sharpen to points unintentionally and the air around him seems to vibrate, signs of the Chancellor’s agitation. “The old ways have gotten us this far. Abandoning them purely because they conflict with the state of this realm would be foolish.”

Though he calms himself as he pilots the changeling closer to Robin’s face. “What I desire most is the safety and longevity of our people. Anything more is a distraction. Duty and desire are one for me, I would gladly give my life to fulfill both.” It may not be what she wants to hear, but it’s his truth. If Titania asked him to fall on his sword right then he would without question. “You raise excellent points, but my knowledge and wisdom can be passed on. Perhaps flesh pleasures can help bring about an heir for my court, but I worry how I’d nurture the blossom properly outside of the maze…” 

...

“Fear is likely not going to remind them of their place, simply plant the seeds of spite on their hearts,” she says slowly, words measured so that he recognizes their weight. If there is anything she has learned on her PhD program is that mortals are petty, no matter how much they deny it. Show something to fear and they will seek to destroy it. The Eye proves to be a great example of that. “Please correct me if I am wrong, but I believe the old ways meant for us to dazzle mortals with out feats not scare them?”

Robin is not sure, for she has heard her mother’s stories and she understands that at times her kind has done both, but it is worth asking, if merely to attempt to deescalate the situation. They are guests among the Pluto vampire’s, and bringing conflicts to their doors will only bring more trouble. Something the courts truly do not need.

“We are in troubling times, Chancellor. We cannot afford to lose our most powerful defenders and protectors with things as they are, and while it is noble that you would give your life to fulfill your duty, that is not what we need,” she begins, voice deliberate as she faces the Changeling with a mild expression. “We need leaders, and despite being able to pass on your knowledge and wisdom, leadership is a rather different skill, is it not?”