Zahryaofspring - Blog Posts
"Love happens when you are not looking, so I have decided to leave it up to the Fates." There is a quick of her head, acknowledging that it is her duty as well, to have children. However, she does not see the appeal of single parenthood, and she is still working to get a handle of her duties, trying to erase Fen'harel's legacy. For now, children cannot be her priority, so she will leave it to her court to increase their population. "When it is time for me to have my own, I will come for you, but it will not be happening anytime soon, I believe."
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Of course, Zahrya could speak endlessly on his own children. They were miracles, truly special in ways no others have been probably since his birth, but he learned how to not be so selfish in his joys. His eyes glimmered not just for spring any longer, but for the dawn as a whole. Nature had its cycles but moved ever forward for all living things. "And what of you, Chancellor? Have you opened your heart to the possibility of love? Or will duty be your deciding factor? In either case, a partner worthy of your power will yield the ripest fruit. And of course, I will be there every step of the way to ensure proper fertilization occurs," he giggles.
"Once again, congratulations on your children," Robin says kindly, the words pushed out of her lips to prevent a quip of her own regarding how the title of Lifebringer could be given to plenty of other high elves as well. Her parents, Laer, multiple members of her court. As much as Zahrya wanted to believe himself special for having children, he is far from it. But as long as his delusions benefited her court, she would keep mum, after all, aside from his weird fixation on reproduction, he was rather pleasant to be around. "If that it's to be so, I must thank you for your determination."
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"I've acquired many titles in my time. 'Lifebringer' is just the latest, though I will uphold it as I would any other. Procreation is the foundation for all life in nature." On the childrearing front, Zahrya had more success than any of the elves which was within expectation but couldn't remain the norm. Helping his fertility to seep into the crevices of every court was his calling, and he would answer it. "Prayer has nothing to do with it. My blessings have always been boundless. All will have the children they deserve by the time my work is complete."
who? @zahryaofspring where? Laurelin, Audulë notes: doing the randomize top songs thing and got emperor's new clothes by panic! at the disco
"I admit, it is rather impressive to have named yourself a god of fertility and have your Court accept it without complains," Robin admits idly as she comes to stand next to the Dawn Chancellor. Impressive, but ultimately rather annoying too, to see his delusions reach higher and higher everyday. Alas, they do need his expertise, so she can't help but hope that his delusions solidify into something more solid than his own children. It is all good to see more of his children running around, but they need an overall population boom as well. "I will not be praying to you, but I nonetheless hope that your will manifests in a boom of children in all courts."
"Get a grip, we are at war. I know sex is all new and novel for you, but it will still be there after we defeat the drows," Robin calls out, rolling her eyes at Zahrya's incredible sense of timing. There is a time and a place for everything, and the middle of the battlefield is surely not the time for sex, unless he had the audacity to think they were losing. But if that were the case, she would be more pissed about his lack of faith on their abilities than his desire for one last desperate fuck before he died. "Frankly, I couldn't give less of a fuck of your hot date, considering that we have yet to defeat any drow of importance. "
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Between the Chancellors being inside of each other and the sensation of crushing the earth beneath their combined power, Zahrya fell out of the Titan leaking nectar like it was the height of spring in spite of his exhaustion. Luckily he didn't fall too far before being scooped into an enormous, scaly bosom which he happily found comfort in. "Chancellor, His Majesty is giving us a wonderful soundtrack for what the mortals call a hot date," Zahrya responds from atop Alastor, barely turning his head to acknowledge Robin. Zahrya's magic reached explosive magnitude when he and Alastor came together, so he was irritated that he had to remove demonic scales from his lips to speak. "I cannot believe you'd interrupt our couple's time for something so trivial. Clearly, I have more urgent matters to attend to than the locations of the others," Zahrya continues, never halting his stroking of Alastor's horn for a second. Yes, Mery's continued destruction of Rome had him feeling incredibly fertile. He never knew war could be so erotic.
chancellorxlaer:
zahryaofspring:
who?: any bitches (eladrin or whatever) still alive i can’t keep track anymore where?: their hellhole (the forest) right on top of that corpse I’m done
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He was there, he was right there screaming for his King, but he was helpless. Too tired to move or act fast enough, it was his heartache that twisted the trees to strike on his behalf. But even they were too slow, spearing wispy shadows instead of his greatest foes. He caught his King’s body before it could hit the ground, shakily singing every song of Spring he could think of. He smashed a blood fruit into the cavernous hole of his chest, pumped ichor straight from his flowers until they withered, and wailed his useless tunes in every key he knew. Nothing worked, his King was gone, and once again he was powerless to make anything better.
“Do something! He can’t be gone. Why didn’t you … do something! Worthless cowards. Fools and cowards I hate you! I need him. We need him…” He directs his words at the fractured remnants of the eladrin race, all those who bore witness as he feels and wavers between all five stages of grief at once. Eventually, all he can do is sob, his thunderous pain reverberating throughout the forest while the Black Wind’s cruel laughter reverberates in his skull.
-
In an effort to preserve what remained of the King’s dignity, Laer sung a song while the rest of the kingdom looked on. Lifted the body away from Zahrya as it was bandaged and glamoured so the ichor that still spilled from Mery’s body would not stain through. “Get up, Zahrya.” Laer said as curtly as he could manage. Loss defined them at every turn. Their Queen, their home, and now the heir that had risen so sharply in such a short amount of time.
“Sometimes it feels like the Gods are laughing at us,” Laer whispered, though through a warm breeze his voice was carried across the company and the crowd. Some of their greatest defenders were gone while the city had been thrown into hedonistic, debaucherous turmoil. Laer felt grief, hatred, and anguish wrapped into one as his patience for this realm ended entirely. The mortals and the drow, these long standing feuds that had chipped away at them relentlessly. “King Meryasek is dead,” the chancellor announced as he roughly hauled Zahrya to his feet, “but your chancellorship remains, reinforce the boundaries, expel any intruders.” He looked towards the bandaged body of the King he’d watched rise from toddler to manhood, the bright and inquisitive mind that had held so much promise.
Another fey life taken, another drow for Ayi’ig’s army. He looked away from the body because he couldn’t stare at it any longer.
“Count the dead, we bury them within the week.” The chancellors would convene and retribution would be swift.
....
There is a weight that comes with being the survivor of a tragedy, to bear witness to your world falling apart from the seams even as you attempt to keep it together. Robin is too far to stop the Drow Queen, too far to do anything but watch as the Court’s suffer yet another blow, one she does not know how they will recover from. Titania, their home, Fen’harel, Aurora and now Meryasek? It has been blow after blow, no break in between. It’s been a long arduous year, a year full of grief and loss, and they seem to keep losing no matter what they attempt. It is far too much grief, far too much misery, bottled and kept inside for too long for her to be able to keep a hold of it any longer. The vessel on her chest, the one where she keeps all her worries and grief and empathy, shatters under the pressure of seeing the corpse of yet another friend, of another loved one, before her. The first crack had appeared in Halloween, deepened further by Wade’s betrayal, but this, for Hyrsam to ensure that his King’s funeral would also becomes Meryasek’s? Over and over again, she had considered peace, had considered unity between species as a solution to their current conflicts.
No more.
The world had turned their back to the fey, it’s only fair they do the same. Anger bypasses grief, her song joining Laer’s in order to keep the pretense of an united front before their people and their enemies alike. Flames gather around them, the fire preventing anyone but the chancellor’s from reaching their fallen King. As she steps closer, Robin allows herself a brief moment to grieve for who they had lost, to grieve for her friend, gone where they could not follow after doing his all to protect their people. He had risen beyond any of the expectations placed on him, and his death was yet another injustice struck against the fey.
Alas, death takes kings and paupers alike.
Eyes snapping open, Robin let’s out a whistle, high and sharp, and sends her own changeling to reinforce the borders as a precaution. Zahrya will do his duty, but any help will be a kindness for the Spring Chancellor.
“Do not stand around, we cannot afford to remain frozen,” Robin snaps out, voice sharp and cutting through the grief beginning to overwhelm the court. “Gather the children, ensure they are kept safe, place the death together and notify next of kin. Now.”
Eyes going back to Zahrya, she bites her lip and tentatively places her hand upon his shoulder in comfort. There had been a tension between the two since that conversation near the pond, but there cannot be infighting if they want to survive, weakened as they are. “Not now Zahrya,” she offers, voice soft yet kind. “We will have our time for grieve later, but now? Now we must ensure that Meryasek’s work does not go to waste.”
zahryaofspring:
who?: any bitches (eladrin or whatever) still alive i can’t keep track anymore where?: their hellhole (the forest) right on top of that corpse I’m done
✿*° ‘° ･
He was there, he was right there screaming for his King, but he was helpless. Too tired to move or act fast enough, it was his heartache that twisted the trees to strike on his behalf. But even they were too slow, spearing wispy shadows instead of his greatest foes. He caught his King’s body before it could hit the ground, shakily singing every song of Spring he could think of. He smashed a blood fruit into the cavernous hole of his chest, pumped ichor straight from his flowers until they withered, and wailed his useless tunes in every key he knew. Nothing worked, his King was gone, and once again he was powerless to make anything better.
“Do something! He can’t be gone. Why didn’t you … do something! Worthless cowards. Fools and cowards I hate you! I need him. We need him…” He directs his words at the fractured remnants of the eladrin race, all those who bore witness as he feels and wavers between all five stages of grief at once. Eventually, all he can do is sob, his thunderous pain reverberating throughout the forest while the Black Wind’s cruel laughter reverberates in his skull.
-
In an effort to preserve what remained of the King’s dignity, Laer sung a song while the rest of the kingdom looked on. Lifted the body away from Zahrya as it was bandaged and glamoured so the ichor that still spilled from Mery’s body would not stain through. “Get up, Zahrya.” Laer said as curtly as he could manage. Loss defined them at every turn. Their Queen, their home, and now the heir that had risen so sharply in such a short amount of time.
“Sometimes it feels like the Gods are laughing at us,” Laer whispered, though through a warm breeze his voice was carried across the company and the crowd. Some of their greatest defenders were gone while the city had been thrown into hedonistic, debaucherous turmoil. Laer felt grief, hatred, and anguish wrapped into one as his patience for this realm ended entirely. The mortals and the drow, these long standing feuds that had chipped away at them relentlessly. “King Meryasek is dead,” the chancellor announced as he roughly hauled Zahrya to his feet, “but your chancellorship remains, reinforce the boundaries, expel any intruders.” He looked towards the bandaged body of the King he’d watched rise from toddler to manhood, the bright and inquisitive mind that had held so much promise.
Another fey life taken, another drow for Ayi’ig’s army. He looked away from the body because he couldn’t stare at it any longer.
“Count the dead, we bury them within the week.” The chancellors would convene and retribution would be swift.
zahryaofspring:
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“That’s your problem Robin. You draw lines and make distinctions that don’t matter. Humans, drow, the Eye, the Senate, it’s all a waste. They envy us all the same, they bleed all the same. When pounded beneath the heavy fists of a changeling, all those who would do us harm are nothing but runny puddles of mess. The war we fight is on our very divinity. Anyone who would have us live less than our truths or gifts is our enemy. The notion that we must play by rules created by inferiors is an affront to what we are. Spring wasn’t my only teacher, I had innumerable vile mortals seek me out as an innocent child just to do me harm. And though he never spoke Asterion taught me more about who I am than anyone else. Apparently, you still fail to grasp who you are.” How any eladrin could learn who they were without a changeling to guide them was beyond Zahrya, but that’s where he stood completely apart from his people. They didn’t know so they didn’t understand. The younger generation confused him as much as they saddened him. None had the vast fields and endless skies of the Labyrinth to express themselves freely. They were repressed and lost, so much so that when given a directive from Titania herself they dared to question the faith she placed in him. Absolutely pathetic. “My domain is whatever my sovereign demands. Her Majesty said we were to have no mercy for this realm. If that is something you’re too weak to bring to fruition, then that is your deficiency. I served the Queen for longer than you’ve drawn breath. I know who I am. Whether or not someone is prepared for the storm doesn’t matter, because a storm rips apart weak strongholds as easily as it decimates fortified structures. At least mine do, because I was born to be powerful. I’ll weep for the future of your court if inaction is all you have to offer them.”
...
“Because life has meaning Zahrya!” Robin finally snaps, the hum of magic turning the air sweltering around them as she raises her chin to glare at the Spring Chancellor from where she sits on the ground. “Life has meaning, and so does it’s ending and ignoring this because you were isolated of the world it’s not the solution. Your lack of empathy and worthless sense of superiority is going to get us all killed if you keep underestimating those who act against us, and you can’t see it. It only takes one mistake for a fey to die, and many of our enemies known how to do just that. Your reckless ignorance of how the world works outside of your Court is shameful, ignorant and will bite you in the fucking ass if you keep going this way. “ There is a noise of frustration as she raises from her sitting position, flames flickering on her fingertips before she clenches her first and takes a deep breath. “I am well aware that I am young and I have not been train in my position, but I know who am I. I know that the whole cannot be judged by the actions of the few, because if they were we would be just like the exile that has joined hands with Asphodel. We would be just like Fen’harel, traitorous and willing to overthrow our rules for power. But we are not, and that alone shows me that you know nothing of people, that the only reason you received your role is because you are powerful but witless. The storm might destroy the fortress and it’s inhabitants, but by numbers alone there will always be more to replace them, more waiting on the shadows to strike when we grow tired. For fucks’ sake, think things strategically for once in your life,“ She hisses out, a ran running over her face as she speaks. She is committing a mistake, she is aware, but she has grown tired of being condescended merely for having a different set of ideals than Zahrya. There is no denying that eladrins are inherently superiors, no denying that they have every advantage. And yet, countless have fallen at the hands of the Eye, countless have been hunted by vampires, witches and humans alike. “If it were power alone that granted us safety, we would not have lost the Otherworld, and my Court would be without dangers because despite what your ignorance has led you to believe, old witless fool, I am powerful and I am acting. I am just not stupid enough to put a target in my back.”
zahryaofspring:
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He understands after hearing Robin’s words why so many of the fey struggled to accept his viewpoints on their lessers. They probably thought like her, drawing distinctions between insignificant lifeforms. There were allies and special considerations, dangers and risks. How burdensome it must be to place more stock in those beneath them. If only they could see them as Zahrya had for nearly a thousand years, nothing more than puddles of viscera between Asterion’s jaws. The lessons his warder taught him still rang true today: mortals would only ever be violent creatures, and sometimes the only answer to their violence was violence of your own. “The blessed children can have a chance to return to us, but those who don’t take our side deserve their fate. We’ve been at war since before I was born, it’s due time we bring it to a close.” What more was there to say? Clearly he was the only Chancellor who understood loyalty. He made a vow to Titania and he would enact her will even if he had to go about it alone. He was done with these games of politics and passivity. He was a force of nature, now more than ever. If he’d acted on his own sooner, then surely many of the cruel fates the eladrin faced recently would’ve been avoided. “I will not be defined by cowardice. If you are content being afraid of your inferiors, then I will let you rot like the leaves in autumn. Destroying the Eye, destroying the Asphodel, destroying the realm, it’s all the same. We should only worry about protecting those who stand with us. I have no love to spare for those who’d do us harm, either through action or inaction.”
@thegoodfellow
...
“Do tell me more about this war of yours, this war that Titania did not acknowledge, this war that you seem so sure we are fighting when few others are,” she insists in an attempt to understand the man’s motivations, voice soft as she tilts her head to observe the Spring Chancellor with consideration. “Perhaps it is my age, but I had the understanding that the Eye did not become a more overt threat until recently, and that the only war the fey truly worried about for as long as you have been alive was the inevitable fight against the drows?” The Spring Chancellor had always fascinated her, the oddness of his actions clear even when compared to other’s his age. Fen’harel, Laer, Revas, her parents, they all comported themselves rather differently than the Chancellor before her, and while she understands that she is in dire need to begin separating herself from her own affections towards humanity, she is always surprised at Zahrya’s rancor for the species Titania helped create as he worships the former Queen. “You call it cowardice, but you are wrong, Chancellor,” she offers, words firm. “Destruction is not a domain usually associated to Spring, thus you must fail to understand that not being wary of your enemies will bring your downfall. It’s those who are not wary of the storm that are struck by lightning, and overconfidence is dangerous when dealing with the creature’s whose creation Titania blessed.”
zahryaofspring:
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Benevolence is in Zahrya’s nature, but even now he can’t tell if Robin’s hesitation is something to be cherished or shot down. He can’t see beyond the bounds of his vow. “I will show them no mercy,” he declares with an intensity that’s out of place given the tone of their chat, but he softens once again. “It’s not just the season, it’s you. These fields are only possible because this bounty is what your heart reflects. Charity is wonderful, but at some point we have to turn our gaze to ourselves.” As he strums, Zahrya thinks of the old days before humans became so plentiful, the days his kind thrived while he grew in the Labyrinth. They’d been shared with him and therefore he was able to idealize the era. Perhaps Robin could benefit from such stories. “There was once a time when no mortal king could accomplish anything without the influence of an eladrin. They worshipped us and in turn, we built their civilizations. Art, music, and magic, all gifts from us, but that has been forgotten. We are no longer bound by the senate and can once again expose our divinity to the masses, but we’re beyond the point where we could do such things without purpose. Testing the denizens of the mortal realm with the intention of subjugation would be the only way such an idea could work.”
...
“It’s a lesson I am beginning to learn, yes, but despite my growing lack of compassion towards most of humanity,” Robin says slowly, spitting out the word compassion as if it had rotten in her mouth, the resentment from recent events on her shoulders weighting her down but not to fully cloud her senses. “I cannot say that showing them no mercy is the solution, not when many of them are our allies. When many of them have laid with fey, or given birth to faiman children. Do the children do not deserve our mercy?” It’s a quick inquiry, and Robin wonders. Wonders where Zahrya would have fallen on the news of her brother’s exile to be with his human and his children, wonders if he considers those children worthy. “There is no denying that we are beyond humanity’s comprehension, that without us they would never have become what they now are. However, I must warn you Zahrya, humans have long desired to kill their gods, and the Eye has made that desire a reality. If you test them too harshly, too quickly, you will turn the same people who erased Alstroemeria from existence towards us, and we cannot fight a war in two fronts with our current strength. If we want to destroy the Eye, we must do it carefully, and only after can we be bolder.”
“Many forget that while summer and spring are used for planting, it is fall that brings the harvest to fruition,” Robin mentions idly, smile tired from where she is stands, a hand wrapped around her waist and the other on a tree trunk to keep her balance. As a Chancellor, she has been given the best treatment capable for someone suffering from an iron wound, but the faint scar still pulls if she moves just right, so she has taken to be careful as she moves. Nothing too noticeable, for she can’t allow her people to grow discouraged, but she doesn’t believe for a second the other Chancellors have not noticed. Fall might be for liars, but she has never been much of an actor when it comes to the things that matter most. “That is a beautiful dream, but you are correct. Humankind fears what they cannot comprehend, and those who would not hate us would be too afraid to go against the crowds to protest. And yet, we must not forget that although many mortals are our enemies, there are many more unaware of our existence and they, more than anyone else, deserve our mercy.”
where?: autumn’s fields
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With the influx of Otherworldly refugees, part of Zahrya’s duties now include ensuring that no ecosystem is overburdened. The balance of life within the forest will be maintained for all, and the bounty of Robin’s fields was a big part of that. Crop vegetables and fungus line the bellies of the beasts Zahrya directs along a migratory feeding path. Humans could spend their entire lives tending to these fields and never pick the plants bare, just one of the many marvels of this forest. “It’s quite curious how this one strip of forest could feed so many,” he says absentmindedly as they watch the animals feed, the lyre at his fingertips directing their march and appetites. “We could probably heal the entire realm together. You and I could easily feed every plant and creature with the simplest of songs, and yet they would still find a reason to persecute us for it. I’m much happier now that we’ve abandoned such notions. Mercy is for the deserving.”
@thegoodfellow
zahryaofspring:
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Zahrya hums, a finger on his chin as he grins in Robin’s direction. She and the others were sights to behold, as any eladrin in their status would be, but neither she nor Aurora had the years to let their beauty flourish as he had and Laer once put it best—-summer follows spring.
“Yes yes, beauty is easily obtainable but wonderment goes further. You must dazzle, stun, and amaze all at once with your very presence. Perhaps one day you’ll shine nearly as bright as me!” he giggles, clearly amused by the idea. It was his to rise and hers to fall, so he didn’t think it was possible but who knows. Maybe Robin carried within her an autumn the likes of which Zahrya has never seen. Doubtful, but possible nonetheless.
He loses himself for a moment in the scene of small critters enjoying their blissful day. Robin is correct in that regard at least, displays like that are one of the treasures of this forest. “It’s not just for her,” he shares. “We deserve a place of our own. Here, we can make our own and raise our young ones safely. I was the only one afforded that luxury, and though this isn’t on the scale of the maze, this forest will suffice.”
...
Robin has an inkling on the direction Zahrya’s thoughts are going, an idea as to what he is alluding amidst his works. Each of court had their innate sense of superiority over the others, and Spring tended to brag about it’s ability to create life. If she isn’t wrong, she knows exactly what he was implying.
She wonders if he realizes how particularly infuriating that belief is, but Zahrya had never been particularly aware nor smart so she doubted it.
“I suppose that is possible,” she concedes, a brief nod to mimic an agreement despite none of her words were a true agreement. Zahrya could keep his misconceptions and biases, for he had so few on his life outside of that and his devotion to the Queen. She wouldn’t want to take that away with the truth. Not when she is trying to mend bonds.
“I am sure the courts appreciate it, I know I do,” she confesses, despite the tugging of guilt at the knowledge she has stolen the Tiber’s land. And yet, the courts now more than ever.
zahryaofspring:
✿*ﾟ ‘ﾟ･
He is steadfast in his duties as Guardian, protecting life within the forest while ensuring that the other eladrin can continue to feel at home. Zahrya watches and nurtures and does his best to not interfere with the others’ plans for the realm. For now. Still, he’s simultaneously grown restless within the forest and less inclined to leave it. He’s desperate for company, so much so that he’s able to look beyond the wall he’s wanted to keep between him and Robin. “This forest was created in our likeness and I am the most breathtaking of us all. It makes sense,” he agrees as he approaches, still just as susceptible to flattery as ever. “Though don’t think I’ll let the quality of the other sections drop. I observe and care for all within the forest. One day Her Majesty will visit and everything must be perfect for her. A forest teeming with life and laughter is the bare minimum of what she deserves.”
...
“Now that I must respectfully disagree,” Robin begins to say, tone softly teasing and careful. She knows her new position has changed how Zahrya sees her, knows that there is a distance now that had not been there back in Halloween, and yet, she cannot change the facts, cannot change what has happened. If he is to repudiate whatever friendship she offers, he will do so knowing her truly, not a mask she creates to please him above all. After Fen’harel, the Fall Court cannot afford any more lies, not if they want to recover from the betrayal that has not stopped stinging to this day. “I find myself quite breathtaking, and I assume Aurora and Laer believe the same of themselves too. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and so on. That does not detract of the beauty, however, this is truly a piece of the Courts found within the mortal realm.”
She listens to his words and nods in understanding once he is done.
“I would never think that, I am aware and thankful for your commitment to your duties,” she comments, failing to mention the concern she had brought up during Halloween. “I know Her Majesty will appreciate your work.”
who? @zahryaofspring
where? the faerie queen’s forest, spring’s gardens
Robin has rarely been one for pensive moods, not when she could be doing productive or interesting with her time. And yet, things have slowly been devolving since the moment she returned to Rome, leaving her off balance. It comes at no surprise, then, that she has taken to wander the newly deemed faerie queen’s forest. She is on the Spring’s Gardens, sitting next to a pond as some of the dandelion hedgehogs nap next to her, when she hears a familiar set of steps approach. For a moment she does not look from where she is petting one of the little dears, but then she slowly raises her head and nods at the other Chancellor.
“Good afternoon, Zahrya. I must compliment you for your garden’s, they are breathtaking.”
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?”
zahryaofspring:
✿*ﾟ ‘ﾟ･
Serenity. Relaxation. Oddly enough, these concepts have been reinvigorated in Zahrya’s mind, though entirely removed from his physical body. Ironically in the last weeks, he’s felt most at peace when he wasn’t attached to his body. Letting his spirit roam and merge with changelings as he currently is has been quite liberating for the Chancellor. Though the nature of Robin’s insistence triggers another train of thought.
“Do I seem nervous or stressed? Impossible! Look, I am here at the party.” He’s reminded of Yavie earlier that evening, how ready the younger fey was to lend him power. Were the seedlings beginning to doubt him? Sure, he was beginning to struggle to maintain some sense of time and got confused on occasion, but that didn’t mean he was failing at his duties. “New is good, but some things are futile. Our bodies are … transcendent. We are not bound by base desire like the children.”
Perhaps his views were old, maybe even too old to be considered relevant, but the old ways brought the fey this far so why abandon them for conventions that’ll surely pass in a millennium or two? Zahrya held a deep love for all eladrin, but power begets power and that’s what was needed now. “My parents were born of magic older than Her Majesty, power undiluted by this realm. It runs through my veins, the omega of two ancient noble lines. Is it so wrong to want to honor that?”
...
“Zahrya, dearest, you are within a Changeling and intimidating the other party goers,” Robin reminds him softly, eyes flickering around the room in a pointed manner before they settle back upon the Spriggan before her. It is concerning, to say the least, the way the Chancellor is acting. It is not entirely out of character, no, but there is a hint of something else, and undertone that she can glimpse within his actions. Despite knowing that it is not quite her place, despite knowing that he will likely not listen as she is merely a noble from Autumn and not his equal, not quite, she has to point out the truth. “Your dislike for mortals is well known, but I do not believe you would have gone as far as bring your Changelings to a Senate sponsored party if you weren’t nervous or stressed. It is not quite your usual style.”
“A common reaction, of course,” she rushes to reassure him, not wanting to make him think she is judging him for his stress or nerves. “The situation is rather worrying, and I know you are excelling at your duties, but you are more than your duties, Chancellor. I know you will fulfill them, but aside your duties we also need you.”
She shrugs.
“Perhaps we are not bound to base desires, but they are nice, every once in a while.”
“It is not wrong to want to honor your parents, no,” she finally settles in her response, not believing she should push on that topic as it would likely be both an uphill battle and a losing one, and she would rather focus on the battle for the Spring Chancellor’s mental health.
zahryaofspring:
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Ah yes, the sex. Copulation was required for mortals to reproduce and attempt to live beyond their feeble lives through the blood of their progeny. He knew some of the fey found pleasure in the flesh, but Zahrya had always seen himself above it. He knew for a brief moment, his parents held genuine love for each other and brought him forth as a result. Did he bloom out of the unions of their bodies or out of pure magic like he’d hoped for his future heir? Maybe both? It was something to ponder.
“I have tried to reproduce in the past, but have not been successful. I doubt this setting has any unique quality that would allow my seed to take root when the faerie realm could not.” Because, by his logic, what would be the point if not to expand their numbers? Not to mention there were other factors. He had no labyrinth to safeguard the child, plus the Queen was in jail. Imagine nurturing a flower bud in a world where Her Majesty was behind bars! Absolutely not. “Besides, my options are quite limited. Excluding the other chancellors, there aren’t many higher-born eladrin in attendance.”
....
“It’s not about your seed taking root,” she begins to say, deliberating how she is to explain to the Chancellor that he is extremely wind up and a quick fuck might help him wind down, considering everything else. Nothing will relieve the weight of their Queen being imprisoned, but a brief distraction while he is incapable of helping her might do wonders. “It is about a brief sense of peace, a moment to relax amidst all of our current stressors. Think of it of a sort of exercise to calm one nerves and destress. Of course, it is not for everybody and I do mean to pressure you, but it is quite a delightful experience and I believe you should at least give it a try. As a Spring Eladrin you must be aware that new beginnings, trying new things, is an important part of the cycle of life, correct?”
She has to bite her tongue to prevent a rather filthy comment that wants to break free. After all, she doesn’t think mentioning to the Chancellor that other species could be good sex partners would be a good idea. The man has made his views of non-eladrin clear.
“Now, perhaps there are not many higher born eladrin in attendance, but I have seen quite a few common eladrin that are quite the sight,” she points out as she recalls her brief re-introduction with the Eladrin Marshal. “Furthermore, may I remind you that both Fen’harel and Aurora have common parents? Implying that the children of common eladrin cannot be powerful seems rather odd, when we have clear examples of the contrary.”
zahryaofspring:
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Here he was, pulling off a feat that most couldn’t even fathom, and yet again Zahrya had a sneaking suspicion his miracles were underappreciated. While this normally would bother him, he’s enjoying himself too much. The looks of shock delight him, the expressions of disgust are committed to memory. He wondered if those same individuals would still look at changelings like that if they were to become one…
Robin unintentionally saves someone from being whisked away and made to find out by Zahrya’s hand with her statement. It’s strange the customs mortals come up with to celebrate their insignificant holidays. “I would never take part in such an activity,” the creature groans out, its noises resembling speech as closely as Zahrya could compel. “Leave the bones of the deceased in the ground to feed the plants. Throwing them at me would do no good.” The young ones were always trying to get him to assimilate. Why would he want to be associated with a species who found pleasure in tossing the remains of their fallen at each other?
...
For a moment, Robin is so very glad that she has become quite adept at maintaining what humans call a poker face, because if she had not, the possibility of her bursting into inappropriate laughter after Zahrya’s retort would have been a reality and not just a possibility. That wouldn’t have done. While she quite enjoys talking to the Chancellor as if they were her pears, she would never openly insult them without a built rapport between them. Aurora is a rather different case, as they were friends and occasional lovers before she became Winter Chancellor, but Zahrya? As she is not of the Spring Court, and nowhere near his age, she is not as close to the Chancellor. Insulting him with inappropriate laughter wouldn’t do —
But revealing what she meant would. After all, she did mean her comment as it had been honest. Perhaps relieving some of the tensions he has been carrying since Titania’s imprisonment would help calm down the near manic energy the spring eladrin is exuding.
“Pardon me for the misunderstanding, Zahrya, ‘boning’ is a mortal euphenism for sex,” she explains patiently, an innocent smile on her face as she speaks, showing no hint of shame at the topic of conversation. “I am just suggesting that perhaps having relations with an attractive individual might help you enjoy the festivities, as many chose to do in Hollow’s Eve.”
Morbid amusement is not something she doesn’t feel often, merely because she rather not waste time in something of the sort. Robin has to admit, however, as dramatically idiotic she is finding the Spring Chancellor’s actions, they are sort of amusing. Only as far as she doesn’t interpret them for a call for help, which she unfortunately does. It’s odd, truly, how five months wandering through the Otherworld after graduating had caused her to miss so many developments, how many of her birds had flocked to her doors with secrets about the Eye once she had stepped in Rome for the first time in six years. To hear that Titania is imprisoned is disheartening, to hear of the antics of the Spring Chancellor? Disappointing. And yet, she is a mere youngling, noble but not a Chancellor. She doubts Zahrya would listen to her if she were to talk to him, so instead, she chooses to default to humor in situations like this.
“You know,” she says, voice crossing the distance with a touch of her magic. “I am beginning to think you need to get boned, Chancellor.”
Getting fucked might not fix whatever the hell is going on his head, but at least it should call him down.
where: the ballroom who: open to all | @senatusstarters
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Tonight, Zahrya needn’t entertain any suggestion that his changelings are somehow an affront. It matters not what the party goers think or what “bad memories” the sight of a changeling might conjure. He is there simply to ensure no one left this party ignorant to the truth: this paltry affair was nothing compared to the masquerade hosted by himself and the other chancellors. From the second he wove his being into the changeling’s, he felt a sense of liberation he’s come to long for thanks his new fey security policy. With liberation comes inhibition. He’s roared in the faces of countless guests, “accidentally” knocked partygoers off their feet, and even disrupted a couple of the entertainment displays. Zahrya has never participated in Halloween before this night, but the way his cackles contort from the changeling’s mouth on his behalf prove he is indeed enjoying himself.