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* Plot Information for Dhemlan, Kaeleer

Dhemlan has become a land divided. The corruption that Witch’s Purge wiped out in the rest of the Realms was preserved by the well-meaning sacrifice of the territory’s Ebon Gray Queen. As such, the corruption here has only intensified. The tension between the Landen and the Blood who were meant to care for them is fast reaching a boiling point.
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Author Topic: Let Me See a Wandering Star  (Read 75 times)

Description: Tag: Raziel, 193 Spring, Just before Queen's Gala

Offline Estrellien Gualtierrez

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      Ruling Queen

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      Haloriel

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    • "I love without pride, sans artifice."

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Let Me See a Wandering Star
« on: Jun 11, 18, 10:16:53 AM »

My heart's been right there all along, no more fears. No more sighs, no more tears; I've said my last good-byes ...



"Lady, Lady."

Estrellien flipped over on her chaise lounge in her office, muttering a curse about her schedule. The noise grew louder, and she covered her head with a pillow. Then, music interrupted her trying in vain to rest. "All right! I am up. Are you sure I cannot have ten more minutes? There was a dream with--eh, nevermind. Thank you, Prince Alcides."

"Prince Cavallero will be to collect you in two hours, and that is if he is early by thirty minutes, Lady Gualtierrez." The expression on the woman's face was absolutely deadpan in response to the announcement. If I cancel, he will either kill me, laugh while killing me, or never take me at my word again, Estrellien thought while pressing her hands to her eyes with a long, heavy sigh. Of course, it wasn't his fault that she had been unable to sleep for the last several nights. At least not well. It had not been anyone's issue save for her own.

"Up, now. If you are ready to go before he arrives, it will be all the easier for you," the elder Prince adjusted his tie with a no-nonsense expression, which appeared moveable as granite.

Grumbling, Estrellien rolled to her feet - or at least she tried. A small paperweight sculpture had found its way from the desk to the floor, getting in her way of rising with any sense of grace. As Prince Fernandez turned toward the door, there was a screech and a loud crash. Turning back to face the Priestess Queen, the man's brows practically moved into his hairline while he struggled not to laugh, despite being a typically dour sort of individual. Estrellien blew several loosed locks out of her face and picked up the little statue of a stand of trees from the floor, gently pinging it with Craft to let the item float back to her desk.

"Just as it will be easier for you, just letting it out. Go on, get it over--"

She twitched at the guffaw from the man, remarking dryly, "I suppose now, I am awake," there was a time that she would never have been able to listen to being laughed at without offering some cruel turn in exchange. At this moment Estrellien almost laughed, though more in nervousness, herself. I promised him two days and we are probably going to end up dead, but at least it would be a good, satisfying death.

"I shall inform you when he arrives."

"No need. I will simply wait in the guest parlour, downstairs. It is neutral enough." The connecting door between her office and the hall that led to the woman's bedroom opened and shut; Prince Alcides continued to chuckle while straightening the office. Lean fingers rubbed over her face while she moved to go bathe, and dress. Simple attire, nothing complicated. Estrellien was awful at not-complicated anywhere near Raziel. Though she had teased him a little, her racing heart and thoughts were the issue primarily.

Trying to be better was easier spoken than actually practised. Her two Bonded males meeting had actually gone more reasonably than she expected, and while Estrellien planned to allow Prince Salvador similar time alone with her, she was anxious about that idea for entirely different reasons. With a nervous slowly drawn breath, the lady shoved her worries out of her mind after easing out of the gown she had been wearing and leaving it on the bed for the maid, which had already been prepared with a series of clothing options by the paid help.

Thank Mother Night she did not have to choose.

Estrellien sank into the bath up to her neck and then further until she was fully under the water. As she did not dally and linger, it took only three-quarters of an hour to finish both ablutions as well as her hair. Thank goodness for Craft and so many luxuries. Every time she dressed, this time with a tension radiating particularly strongly, she considered the items worn as a child. Restitched handed down dresses; her mother had been so skilled with a needle and thread that it was almost impossible to see. This time as she slid into red lace stockings with embroidery up the back of her legs, into a silk chemise in the same near burgundy hue, Estrellien was almost grateful for those old dresses. If anything, the experience had taught her the value of luxury that most Dhemlanese Blood no doubt took for granted that they would never lose it. The gown, however, was the sweet piece, as it had not even any metallic hooks. Just simple hidden buttons upon the shoulders while the back of the gown swept away from the shoulders to bare most of the skin there, clinging with soft lace.  The skirt held only three layers of the softest cotton to make a very full skirt to fall all the way to her ankles, enough for a beautiful sense of movement with the fabric and no more.

For Estrellien, the choice was extremely subtle, but she wanted something, as agreed upon, that she could move in, run or jump in. A simple necklace of freshwater pearls she placed around her neck, while long black hair was wrapped neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck secured with plain silver pins. After all, not every single clothing item the Priestess Queen possessed held to that standard she had created to fit in with the other Queens. She'd had to dig into her collection for these items not wanting to buy anything new as it would defeat the purpose. Once, what seemed eons ago now, she was just a student at Salamanca on a scholarship, hoping to make her way to something special. The shoes were simple, low red heeled boots. Looking in the mirror, with only a little blush and lip colour enhanced with Craft, Estrellien snatched up a delicate red floppy hat and settled it gently on her head.

In two bags small enough to not burden a Craft closet, she tucked four more dresses and accoutrements to go with said items, smoothed her dress again before twirling once for the mirror.

Yes, a good choice.

Altogether, it had taken the Priestess Queen an hour and a half to get ready. Going to the stairs, she eyed the long bannister with a playful, shy smile.

There was no one there to see her, she assumed. Biting her lower lip and looking about like a bandit, Estrellien hopped up, managing to balance--

And slid down the curling path with a happy shriek. Might as well pass the time, after all.
"Mother Night is real. Not a mere dream."

Offline Raziel Cavallero

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      First Escort

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      Lochlan

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Re: Let Me See a Wandering Star
« Reply #1 on: Jun 11, 18, 05:39:11 PM »
*thud* went the last barrel of product into the storage shed in the back of the butcher shop. Raziel wiped his forehead. "Does she really need all this meat?" Raziel complained to himself after leaning on the most recently carried barrel from the carriage. To say that he was anxious about the upcoming 'date' with Stella was an overstatement but to everyone's credit, especially his own, anger didn't swarm through him at the idea: Confusion did. The confusion was why he could approach this date with some normalcy in comparison to how he would have acted in recent years. Which meant he needed some good food and some decent vintages - and was why he laboring for a butcher lady.

Raziel could not cook. He can boast, with pride, of the ability to burn water when trying to cook. So he found others who could. Prior to the butcher he paid off a debt for desserts by transporting flour. The butcher asked for a supply cart to be unloaded. The only thing he didn't have to work for was the appetizers - he had the Court chef make those. With the last bits of labor done and the butcher making due on her promise, he packed the rack of smoked lamb away. He did a double count of whether he had everything he needed - Soups, meats for sandwiches or just straight up consumption (his plan), and dessert pastries. A small but filling meal for a night picnic. He then checked the time.

Fifteen minutes after the promised time Raziel returned to the estate with his hands in his pockets, his bowler lightly tilted and fresh-faced. He had changed out of his working clothes to more relaxed ones, a simple tee and slacks. The only thing of note was his worn but sturdy riding jacket and a light sombrero. He didn't even make it to the front door before being addressed by the Steward. "You are late."

The relationship between Raziel and the Steward was a rocky one. Estrellian's lead bureaucrat loathed Raz's impulsiveness and disorganized methods. Raz, similarly, saw the Prince as a shut-in and the equivalent of walking pen-and-paper. Great for his role, but little substance behind. The feud and heavy estrangement between Raziel and Estrellian however put him often as referee and the two had buried their hatchet with the Steward telling him frankly that he would never get involved, as it was none of his business, and that he would never choose sides - the situation was far too complex, in his view, for any side to be chosen. Raz didn't like it, for obvious reasons...but he respected that view. They then brushed shoulders ever since.

"Why? What time is it?" He looked at the sky. "It ain't THAT late." He waved a hand. "I had to finish working off for the food for tonight!"

"That is what we have a chef for, Prince." The Steward's frown deepened. "And given the tenuousness of the occasion, tardiness is going to make her frantic." His voice then took a more nuanced tone. "I am of the opinion that this is an ill-advised venture. No guard and no formal escort. She will be vulnerable. You will be the only one, should the unthinkable happen, to protect her."

Raziel arched a brow at him as he pulled off his gloves. "And?"

"The safety of the Queen is paramount." Prince Alcides looked him square in the eye, a characteristic that few had. He didn't even flinch when exposed to the pressure of his Jewels and the Warlord Prince's emotions either. "Promise me you will keep her safe...and show her a good time." He added the last after a moment's pause. "...Your word, Raziel."

Raziel hadn't thought of that. She would be alone with him. No eavesdroppers. No guards looming overhead. He could kill her and no one would know. Anything could happen to her...and no one would know. Raziel let out a breath and shook the Stewards hand once. "My word, Alcides. She will return safe." The two nodded and then the Steward revealed a rose, and offered it to him. The Warlord Prince eyed him oddly. "My dear Alcides. I didn't think you cared about me that much....but to offer me this the day of my date with another-"

The Steward cleared his throat to interrupt him. "It's not for you. I figured you would be too scatter-brained to remember the simple things." He then turned from Raziel. "She waits for you in the guest lounge. I will-"

"Nah! I got it." He slapped Alcides on the back and made the man stumble a foot forward. "Take the day, hombre. If I can't fetch her then why are we even bothering, si?" He then walked past the Steward as he re-adjusted his attire and left to his own affairs.

At nearly twenty minutes past the mark Raziel entered the guest lounge and saw what Estrellian called her 'come-me-down' outfit. He half anticipated that she would wear some upteen pounds of gold somewhere on her person since they agreed to outright wear money. This outfit though? It made her look....well...practically human. Ensorcelling, just the hint of seduction but a presentation of simply beauty to his eyes that required the person to carry the image more than the dress. It worked for her, whether she would ever agree with it or not.

"How is it possible for us to dress like civi's and I still feel under-dressed?" Was the first words he spoke to her. "You look entirely radiant mi amor." He offered her the rose stashed to him by the Steward. "Though now I feel like this does a disservice."

He adjusted his sombrero. "We have a bit of a ride to get to where we will be going. Since your going to where I am wanting us to go first, I feel it only fitting you take the lead for our second day si? Then be back here by nightfall. I would recommend midnight, but I fear sweet Prince Fernandez would have a heart attack." He smirked.

Offline Estrellien Gualtierrez

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      Haloriel

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Re: Let Me See a Wandering Star
« Reply #2 on: Jun 11, 18, 07:37:30 PM »
She had only managed three slides down the bannister before Prince Alcides caught her and made a distinct face of disapproval. It had been worth it however and even while pacing the parlour and anxious, the moment had made her smile. So lost in her own head, and aware that the First Escort was late, though fifteen or twenty minutes was hardly a big deal, she hadn't noticed the discussion out by the front door at all. The Priestess Queen was in mid-turn when Raziel made his appearance; she was hit like a brick to the abdomen noticing how she felt the Red Jewelled Warlord Prince's presence before she ever turned her head to see him. For centuries, Estrellien had long chosen to ignore that pull because it gave her such conflicting feelings. Now, she quietly revelled in the power of his presence, releasing a slow breath. Hands folded together, the lady smiled.

No, I do not care that he is late, only that he is here.

Aware that her pulse thumped along like a snare drum in the midst of a concerto, Estrellien did her best to play it cool.

Radiant, he said, so much for cool.

The red lace hat she wore obscured her face as she looked down, hiding the pink spreading over the crests of her cheekbones. A tiny smile curved her lips. "I might seek to portray a certain look to match other Dhemlanese Queens, but I was properly taught how to dress down or up ..."

She stilled, however, at the sight of the perfectly bloomed, brilliant red rose, with its little end cap to protect the roots and a sufficiently long stem wrapped in ribbon. "So good ... no, no. This is beautiful," the Lady Gualtierrez remarked. Since the thistles were covered by ribbon, she did not have to worry about pricking her skin. For several long moments, the Priestess Queen stood with the rose brushing against her cheek; as she held it the flower even further came to life while it was questionable if even a dead man would have missed the subtle flash of boiling desire in her golden eyes as she smiled wide and laughed low.

"No. It is perfect."

Twirling once, she looked around the guest parlour and finding a pretty, empty crystal vase on a table, that had been waiting for other flowers given the water next to it, she gently placed unwrapped the roots just enough and placed the flower in the water. She stepped back away from the flower on the table and clapped her hands. "Perfect," she repeated, and while walking back to Raziel, brushed a thumb over one of his hands. No Craft, just an ordinary touch.

"Shall we go? I am entirely yours."

Another smile, even as her insides were wholly butterflies.

Is this really happening? Mother Night, preserve me.

"You look good, you know. Really. Do not underestimate yourself."
"Mother Night is real. Not a mere dream."

Offline Raziel Cavallero

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      First Escort

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      Lochlan

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Re: Let Me See a Wandering Star
« Reply #3 on: Jun 13, 18, 08:33:30 AM »
"And here I am only trained in how to put one leg on at a time." He feigned dissatisfaction, but gave her the rose laying the wrapped end into her hand. It was strange, seeing her so happy. He could envision, which he did, her laughing at being offered such a thing. It was rare, that any amount of common decency would be received with warmth from her - she just as much would suspect foul play on his part, some trap to lure her in. Now however, she simply looked normal. Which was both frustrating, confusing and satisfying all at the same time. So he simply ran with it.

She will slip and reveal her intentions soon. She always does. This game she plays. The thoughts, in silence from his face, ran through his head. Perhaps it was the fact that the Prodigal Son was darker than both of them, giving her some semblance of security and gave her a prideful jolt where once Raziel's presence would make her cower? Did she need a reminder? That not only was she is, but to do with as he saw fit? No. The simple answer never worked. Perhaps she had finally managed to swindle the Steward in on some scheme against him, and was why the Steward extracted his word - knowing Raziel would go to Hell and back before breaking it if he could help it.

Perhaps the Prodigal Son was the answer after all? Estrellian nurturing anything resembling love with Raziel was alien. Her nurturing anything with Raziel was alien. Estrellian nurturing it, to rip it from his hands and laugh as she hop-skipped with those little red slippers to Salvador's chambers?

That....sounded more like her. The Last Laugh, huh? He kept it in the back of his thoughts, and the confusion gave way to caution - something more easily navigable than the bafflement he had been left in by her actions.

"Bah! I look like I just rolled in from a horse stable, and not working them either." He looked over himself. Then he waved his hands as if to dismiss the issue. "But I suppose we should! We have a ride ahead of us. Say adios, mi amor. We travel the country tonight." Raziel had touched base with friends of his in Salamanca to double-check the weather in the area. They had told him everything he needed to know and was why the day was specifically chosen when it was. 

Raziel took her outside, mounted his steed and helped her into back saddle. Then he galloped off into the country. In many ways, Estrellian got to see what Raziel did most of the time while he was away. Riding the roads, passing through the city and then what villages they past as he rode. Many even waved or shouted hello at his passing. A shout to one, a wave to another. The trip took about an hour before Raziel cut off the main road and went into the adjacent woods and steered the horse into a quaint little strut. It was a little after sunset with the last beams of sunlight beginning to vanish.

He stopped when they breached the treeline, entering an open field flanked by woods in the distance on various sides and distances. The sounds of the city and everywhere else had vanished. Only the sounds of the world existed here, a sound that put Raziel at ease. "And. Here we are." He said, slipping off of his horse and then helping her down. "Welcome to the back ass end of Dhemlan." He said with a gesture of hands to...well...wilderness. "Not a soul or village for miles." He put his hands on his hips. "I suggest we make ourselves comfortable. The show will begin when the sun finally leaves which..." He looked up at the midnight-blue sky hued with orange. "Doesn't seem to be that long from now."

"Now! We have all the necessary amenities." And out came the hard work he had prepared for. A basket containing a full course dinner, a blanket (which was Raziel's window curtain from the manor, he suspected Alcide would lose his mind when he found out), Two candles in glass bowls that he lit with witchfire, a warming spell to help fend off the cool summer night and a bottle of wine and two glasses to top it off.

"And.....There we are. A cozy dinner for two with a front-row seat." He gestured to the setup with a 'tada' sort of flare. "No metronomic Stewards, no sassy courtiers, no eye-gouging aristos. Just a hombre and his bonita." He settled down onto the blanket. "And feel free to dig in! There is plenty." As he began emptying the pic-inic basket. "I have one more gift for you before the show, but let us eat hardy first si?"

 

 

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