eachdraidh | FORWARD-dated to the evening of July 18

Entry tags:

FORWARD-dated to the evening of July 18 - open to both courts; video

[The creaking of wooden wheels accompanies the sway of the wagon. The very air crackles with electric tension -- magic in the air and upon the shackled burden resting uncomfortably in the wagon. There is little to be seen: heavy chain wrapped around the viewer's body gives little slack and all that is in front of him is the wooden plank of the wagon. The wagon stops and the noise of the creaking wood gives way to business-like speech and heavy, booted footsteps.

The chains shift, pulling at feathers and fur alike but there is no movement, for the mage who cast this paralysis is talented. Aubri can only breathe and nothing else. When chains pinch, there cannot be reaction. He cannot recoil against the pulled feathers.

And he cannot do a damned thing when one wing is grabbed and forcibly extended over the low side of the wagon. The sound comes first: the metallic slide of shears snapping through feather; the pain follows on quick steps, for they are none too gentle with their clipping. The primaries are messily clipped, some yanked free, some twisted and bleeding by the time that wing is done -- and then it's left hanging awkwardly (painfully) over the edge of the wagon.

(Wait. Wait. Just wait. The spell will ease and there will be blood. If I meet my end here, then I will bring them all with me. It's the litany that runs through Aubri's mind and it grows ever harder with anger and humiliation and self-recrimination.)

The chains shift again, not gently, and Aubri's other wing is extended by force -- and it hurts this time, bending a little far back and straining the muscles. This time, Aubri makes a sound -- a soft huff -- and the wing twitches. The spell is wearing thin. Someone laughs, grabs a feather, twists, and yanks -- and then drops the mangled feather just in front of his beak. At the sound of the shears once again, Aubri closes his eyes and resolves to wait.]

[ooc;; this broadcasts only a short time after this thread so don't expect Aubri to be in the best of moods]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Watching this hurts. One hand is over her mouth when she replies, horror clear in her voice. ]

Aubri...?

[It takes a few moments. Aubri has hovered on the edge of sleep for some time now -- perhaps he's been closer to unconsciousness. He's found a small space to hide in. (And that's what he's doing: hiding. He almost hates himself for it.) He's curled up into as small a ball as he can manage, injured wing held just so and head tilted oddly to the left.

Her voice brings him round; he looks up and around him first before (not quite) focusing on the locket.

Oh.

So it's happened to him.

He fumbles with it and when he does finally manage to answer her, he's holding his head a bit oddly, doing his best to show her the right side of his face only. The light is dim, but there's enough to see feathers in disarray, to see his gaze not quite tracking, and to see the blood matting in feathers.]

Ariadne. [His accent is strong -- stronger than she's ever heard it.]

[ She had hoped that it was only the memory. But Aubri is injured here and now, too; her gasp is loud, too loud, but she can't help it. ]

Aubri, [ she repeats, aghast; he's injured, obviously trying to hide at least some of it. ]

Oh my god, what happened?

[He blinks at the locket, ear tufts swiveling forward as he considers her question.]

A memory.

[Which isn't what she's looking for and he knows it.]

And I'll get to that in a moment, but that memory didn't do this to you.

[ Or at least, no one else has had anything like this happen after a memory being shown. ]

[There's a hesitance before he answers, in part because he does not want this thing to become a wedge between Seelie and Unseelie.

In part because he's a weak, stupid bird who got caught.]

An army marches toward Caer Glaem. [He speech is slow, deliberate; he has to think about the words so that his accent doesn't make them indecipherable. His head hurts too much for for this.] I was dumb enough to go take a look at it.

[ Oh, no.

No, no, no. She doesn't want to believe it was one of her friends, but she thinks of the Elvenking's wrath over his tortured son at the hands of Celegorm. Her face is pale, shaking slightly. ]

I'm so sorry.

[ One hand runs through her hair, and after a moment she instructs the locket to make it so that only Aubri can hear her. ]

private;

Will you tell me where you are? I can get there-- I can help you.

No. [He forgets himself in his honest desire to keep her from the area and looks full into the locket. There's a brand above his left eye, cracked, burned, bleeding; it's the simplified crest of the Unseelie. His eye is swollen shut and the side of his head matted with dried blood.] There will be a battle.

[ She gasps again, horror creeping in. She knows that crest, sees it daily, but like this-

God, she doesn't want to see it like this. ]

And you're injured and stuck there. I can make myself invisible, I can walk through shadows now- Aubri, please.

[He wants to say yes. He wants nothing more than a friendly presence and a willing, helping hand to ease his hurts -- literal and not. At the gasp, he remembers himself and turns his head away. (And his vision swims a little at the movement.) He hesitates before answering.

He wants her there, but he will not endanger her.] No. I will not ask you to put yourself at risk.

[He's so tired. Just the thought of doing this alone weighs him down.] Please, do not, Ariadne.

[ It hurts her, not being able to help -- not being there. Her hands ball into fists and she takes a deep breath, sighing when she exhales. ]

Promise me you'll stay safe, then. Until I can see you.

[He ducks his head, carefully shifting to find a more comfortable position. (It's a futile try.)] When the threat is gone, I will come to the Station.

[Please be there goes unsaid.]

I'll head out first thing in the morning.

Thank you.

[Pause; he shifts again, the brand above his eye just visible before he turns again.] I am sorry.

Shh. It's not your fault.

[ Her head drops as well, shaking once. ]

Don't blame yourself.

It has been too long since I have seen war. I was careless.

You don't know that being more careful would have changed anything.

[He huffs. Pauses.

Makes a show of poking at the locket.]

What memory did it show?

[He knows exactly which one it was. He just doesn't want to talk about this any longer.]

[ She knows. But she lets it go; there will be plenty of time to talk to him when she sees him at the Station. ]

You were on a wagon. They were clipping your wings.

[There's a definite undertone of sheer crankiness.] A word of advice: never attack a mage straight on.

I'll remember that.

I told you of the general who betrayed us, yes? Did I tell you that I was the first to discover his betrayal?

No, you didn't. [ Pause. ]

... Is he the one who...?

He turned me over to them. [He shifts again and finally gets somewhere sort of comfortable: head resting on forelegs and the locket propped up on a rock. It's taken a bit of doing -- he's sorry for the jostling.] I was a token given in honor of a new partnership.

[ Her eyes flash, but with no outlet for her rage, no general for her to scream at, there's nothing she can do. She shakes her head instead, sorrow replacing the anger. ]

How did you get away?

Chance. A friend had taken upon himself to end the damned war by assassination. [Cut off the head, right?] He stumbled upon me and we finished the job together.

Sometimes luck is on our sides. Or karma.

[ Karma. She knows he doesn't want to talk about it, but she has to ask -- has to know. ]

Aubri... do you know who did this to you?

[There's enough of a pause that she might think that he will not answer. His gaze flickers away from the locket and he turns his head, to keep the scar over his left eye out of sight. (Out of sight, out of mind. He wishes that were so, but it throbs, burns. It is quite the reminder of his encounter.)]

I don't know his name. He seeks a jewel called a silmaril. [There's an undercurrent of pure hatred in his voice, hardening his accent. He's never sounded quite human, but now he sounds like a predator.

He remembers the words a little too clearly: "If the Silmaril is not in my hand within seven days and nights, I will make such war upon every life residing in Caer Glaem that it shall scar the earth."] I am charged to take a message to Caer Glaem. They won't like what he says.

[ It's almost frightening, the hate and malice in his voice. Almost, but Ariadne is angry herself.

Worse than that, though -- worse than that is the knowledge, the words adding detail to her suspicion. She has to speak to Celegorm, should have done it before now. She will not make the mistake of waiting again. ]

I think I might know him, [ she sighs, sounding lost. ]

[Aubri hisses at the revelation: it's uncomfortable for a number of reasons. Will she take it upon herself to speak to him? Will she defend the madman? (He doesn't think so. He hopes he's right.) It's obvious she's been put into an uncomfortable place herself.

He sounds more weary than when he began this conversation.] Ariadne...

This shouldn't have happened. [ Her comment is sudden, firm. No matter who did it, this should not have happened -- not to him, not to Legolas, not to anyone else. ]

As glad as I am that you're alive, no one deserves to be tortured. He could have had you send a message without this. He could have been reasonable about the Silmaril to start with. He-

[ Her voice cracks, and she has to pause, to furiously shake her head. ]

[It's then that he decides that he doesn't want to tell her about anything else that happened: not about the bolts in his wing, or the way Celegorm had kept up his assault until he was satisfied that Aubri understood the message, or that he'd ordered him beaten to unconsciousness. There's enough hurt and anger; he doesn't need to see more.]

Don't. [He's so tired. There's no energy left to soothe ruffled feathers.] What's done is done.

It shouldn't have happened, [ she repeats, exhaustion suddenly seeping in. There's nothing she can do to change what happened to him, she knows that. All she can do is try to keep it from happening again -- and then, later, to meet him at the Station. ]

I'll see you soon, though. I'll straighten up your feathers again. And we'll try foods from a world that's more like mine.

[Wearily:] As soon as I can.

Soon.

[ Her poor, poor bird. ]

[She's crying very quietly but too hard to use video. It takes a few breaths for her to calm down enough to talk.]

I'm sorry--

[And now she's burying her face in her apron and muffling her tears.]

[Aubri's hurt, yes, but he's not completely out of it. Weary and aching but coherent. Awake. (Determined. Humiliated.) He hasn't moved from the place he found to hole up for awhile but the time will come when he will, as Celegorm 'suggested,' wing his way toward Caer Glaem. He has his locket close-by and is listening.

It breaks his heart to hear her crying.]

As am I. [His voice is rough, accent strong.] I did not fulfill the promise I made.

[ Ah. He has seen enough of birds to know what those feathers are for, and Maglor winces and calls softly ]

Master Aubri. Your memories betray you.

[ Celegorm was almost certainly wearing it - the Feanorian star that Maglor wears as a cloak pin ]

[He moves slowly, looking around first before a hazy gaze falls upon the locket. (He doesn't see the star yet. He barely sees the locket.) Shadows are long and his face cannot be clearly seen, but there's enough light to see that he's not in the best of shape.]

Do they?

[ a sharp hiss of sound as Maglor catches his breath - an old campaigner, he knows injuries when he sees them. ]

Aye. But you are wounded sore, and I did not think that our memories became reality

[Bitterly:] This is not that memory.

What happened, Master Aubri - those wounds... have the look of those inflicted.

[Aubri shifts uncomfortably. Obviously, he had not intended on speaking with anyone just yet. His gaze is still unfocused but there's a bitter anger sharpening it.] An army marches. I was the featherhead who went to look at it.

[ An army marches and Maglor's breath catches in another sharp hiss - there is only one army that marches right now, and Maglor knows who leads it. There is a long pause, and when he speaks next he sounds broken ]

I am sorry you were caught in my family's madness, Master Aubri.

[Aubri looks up sharply (and the brand above his left eye -- a simplified crest of the Unseelie -- is clearly outlined for one short moment) and holds Maglor's gaze as long as possible.

Now he sees the star.] Your brother?

[It's flat, if only because Aubri doesn't know what to think right now.]

[ At least Curufin's ghost observes darkly He was kind enough to use the Unseelie brand, rather than our own and Maglor's eyes slide shut in despair before he forces himself to meet Aubri's squarely ]

Yes. There is no apology I can make that will suffice, but even so, I am sorry.

[After a moment, Aubri turns away.]

It was not you. [It's not quite absolution, but it's not condemnation either.]

No. But it is also my cause. Celegorm marches for Father's jewels - we pursue the same end, albeit by different means.

[ hesitation ]

I will not trouble you again, Master Aubri. For the time when we could be as friends, I am grateful, and I wish you fair skies and fair winds to bear you wheresoe'er you fare. I hope ... I hope your wounds heal swiftly.

[ signing off, so he can weep in private ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

FORWARD-dated to the evening of July 18 - open to both courts; video

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video;

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

Re: video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

video; private

voice

voice

video

video

video

video

video

video

video

video

video

video

video