From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Everything about her life is different now. It had taken some adjustment, some getting used to the way she moved and learned what it was like to be Ascended. But much to her surprise, the magic she had thought lost to her still brimmed beneath her skin. The only difference now being that her glamour is gone, the ethereal beauty she had been gifted fell away like a shimmering shawl. And with it, her brand had returned. Yet Rexanna doesn’t worry over it, not any longer. She has left Halyven and Asciend behind, looked toward the future, became a weapon in light of it all.
And this weapon has some unfinished business.
Under the cover of night, she approaches the Launceleyn Manor, only she doesn’t enter. Zariah may be away, but that doesn’t mean Rexanna trusts any of it – but Peter, poor Peter trapped in the Manor as well. She doesn’t know if he’s aware of what’s happened, and its been a few weeks now since her escape. She passes through the grounds so quietly, no brushing of dresses to cling onto branches. She wears tight fitting clothes, nothing to snag or tear, and her hair is tied back. Far less the queenly, diligent pawn and looking more like a sharpened blade.
She reaches the window she’s certain is Peter’s and reaches down to grab a pebble, tossing it up at the window – one after another just in case he didn’t hear the first one. And then she settled and waited, eyes seeing easily in the dark up to the window.
Peter was a light sleeper. It was a survival thing, he could be up in a moments notice at the slightest noise. Pebbles shrinking his window are a little more than a flight noise, but unfamiliar enough that it doesn’t strike worry into his gut, only curiosity. He stands, dragging a blanket with him, and opens the window, looking down into the garden.
The dark figure in the garden is something that strikes worry, a hot flash of panic rising in his throat when he sees it. It ebbs away slowly as he simply looks for a moment, putting two and two together and figuring the person below was trying to get his attention. And rather sneakily. Stepping back into his room, Peter sheds the blanket around his shoulders and pulls a sheathed dagger from midair, tucking it into the back of his pants.
Feeling at least somewhat to prepared, Pete returns to the window and stepped onto the ledge, taking a deep breath before scaling the wall down into the garden gracefully. Blue eyes ringed with dark circles turned to his midnight caller, surprise and recognition both brightening his face when he see Rexanna. He smiles, the look not lasting long before it dips back into confusion.
”What... why are you... where did you go?” There are a dozen questions on his tongue, but only one can go at a time, and it takes Peter a few stumbles to decide on the most important. It’s at this point that he notices the chill in the air. His arms are exposed to the air, but he’s more concerned about the goosebumps than by trying to hide his scars. At least for the moment.
Much to her surprise, the pebbles work. She spots movement from within and holds a nonexistent breath in the hopes it’s the right room. And when Peter appears, a smile briefly appears in an attempt to seem more harmless. But she forgets, already so easily, that his eyes are likely not as good as hers are now when it comes to seeing in the dark. The clouds move overhead, uncovering the moon slightly as she waits for him to come to her — there’s little that would make her step willingly into the manor again.
She watches with a curious eye as he scales the wall, shirtless of all things, but says nothing until he reaches her and smiles briefly before it fades and questions bubble to the surface. “I couldn’t stay.” She says, a small amount sad at having left him here. “I don’t work for Zariah anymore, Peter. I escaped a few weeks ago. I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to tell you.” She admits, the briefest amount of sorrow in her sapphire gaze as she looks at him.
She notices his scars, and if he looks hard enough he might see the ones that adorn her too that hadn’t been there before — the etched C in her neck raised and pale, definitely a brand. “She locked me in the tower and I escaped from the bathroom.” She gives a small sad smile, a brief showing of fangs with the gesture as she looks to him and sees if he knows where it’s going — but she imagines he had as much of a say in this as she did.
07-31-2019, 05:32 AM (This post was last modified: 07-31-2019, 06:51 PM by Peter.)
As soon as Rexanna starts to answer him, Peters eyes move away from her face, trailing over her before settling on the ground. Something is different. He’s certain of it. It’s a question for later though, no room in his mind for new mysteries when he’s trying to work through her words. ”Does this... is this... no.” He’s coming a conclusion he doesn’t like, his eyes snapping back up to her face.
”Why... did you have to escape?” His voice is almost a whisper, as if the softness of his words might change the situation. When Zariah said marriage, he’d imagined someone... well, quite literally faceless. Unknown to him. And he would have been able to swallow that. But... not Rex. ”I-I... I’m sorry.” The apology was somehow even softer, but the thought process was the same. If she couldn’t hear it, it couldn’t be true.
It’s was easy to see how the new revelation twisted within him. Peter stood still as a statue, his arms crossed over his chest and his hands wrapped tightly around his elbows. His jaw moved as he chewed on his words, shredding the inside of his cheek in the process. ”Why... what are you d-doing... here? Back here?” He asks after a beat, not sure what else to say. Whatever other questions he’d had had fled his mind in the wake of his realization.
It begins to click, and she watches with a stillness that’s unlike her as he looks over her. He stutters, stumbles over the words, and her smile shifts toward a small sad frown, a sad tilt to her pale face as she stands beneath the moonlight with bright, far more clear eyes than she’s ever had before. She meets his gaze as he whispers, but her hearing is better in this new body, and as her lips part to speak, he begins, a click, a notion, an answer to his question.
But then he apologizes, and she starts silently – slipping a bit closer to him. “Peter, no.” She begins, with some resolve as her sapphire gaze linger on his face, then drift to where he begins to hold himself, her brows lift and she wants to reach for him – to comfort him, but she doesn’t know if he’ll let her. She still tries, though, and reaches out with a hand to grasp onto his arm should he let her. “It’s not your fault, it wasn’t your idea I’m sure.” She begins to explain. And should he let her, she wishes to pull him into a light embrace. He might notice, if he does it, that her body isn’t as warm as it once was.
“I came back to warn you, to tell you. You should leave, too, Peter. I could protect you. My friends... We, I, all of us could protect you.” She says, a bit of a stumble over her words. “We don’t know where Zariah is, but… I’m afraid she might punish you for what I’ve done.” She looks away from him for a moment, the sadness panging deep within her gut. “It’s not just that I escaped, but I can’t have children anymore. I escaped and did something, something I worry she might take out on you.” She explains, brash and rushed.
Her eyes lift to his face and she lifts her head a bit higher. “I’m not just Abandoned anymore. I am Ascended, too.”
Peter hardly notices Rexanna moving closer, too caught up in his own mind, the sick feeling of guilt in his throat. When she says no, softly, like she believes it, he wants to laugh, to shake his head, shake her. He was selfish, and even if this specifically hadn't been what he'd agreed to, he had agreed to the situation in general. His entire body stiffens when she touches his arm, part of him wanting to pull away. He didn't. Peter screwed his eyes shut and leaned into her touch, her embrace, more kind than he thought he deserved.
"I-I... not my idea, but when I... I talked to her, and Z-Z... Za... she asked me, and I... said yes. Not to... to you, but to... marrying." It takes him a moment to get through his words, but he needed to explain all of it. "There's... someone, and I asked, and... and I was selfish, and this..." This happened. And maybe it would have happened anyway, but maybe it wouldn't have. "I can't leave." The words drop from Peter's lips like stones, resignation soaking them. The idea wasn't foreign to him, but... the pros here outweighed the cons. And if Zariah was going to be upset with them as a pair, it would be best if one of them, remained.
Whatever careful weighting was going on in his mind was thrown out the window (again) as Rexanna continued. Peter pulls away from the embrace and looks at her, really looks at her. The little things he'd noticed earlier made sense with her revelation. He isn't sure what to think of it, not at first. "Why... how..? Is that... is that why the.... 'c', and your..." One of his hands comes up to brush at his own lips.
He stiffens and she frowns, and she allows him the ability to pull away from her if he wishes to. But then he leans into her, and she wraps her arms around him in a comforting, almost motherly way. And when he speaks, she listens to every bit – to get through the rambling and stumbling, and she understands why he thinks it’s his fault. “It’s okay, Peter.” She hums to him softly. “I… It would have happened some other way, I’m sure.”
But then he tells her he can’t leave, a stone dropping into a rippling pond, resignation. And she frowns slightly at the response. “I want you to be safe. It is dangerous here…” She says quietly, her own resolve coating her words as she takes a good look at him. He seems as though he considers it though, which is at least a good sign. It’s something, rather than the blind following. And she lets him, not supplementing it with more of her cause.
And he pulls away from her, to give her a good solid look, and she lets him. And his questions, she doesn’t know where to start. As for the C, well… She’s only told two people how she received it. And if anyone should know, it’s likely him and why it was there. Lest he get the wrong idea about her Ascension. Quietly, before she responds, she sees his hand reach up to brush his lips and she frowns slightly with a quiet (literally) breathless sigh.
“I have had my brand for a long time, Peter.” She begins, quietly, searching his gaze to make sure he sees how honest she is. “You remember the Prince I married before that I told you of? His name is Calstron. This is his brand, I have had it before I came here.” She says easily, explaining it the best she can. At least he knows part of her history, and that makes it immensely easier. “I was blessed by Frey for a time, they removed it. But when I ascended it returned.” She pauses as she thinks it over. “I wanted… I wanted to get rid of my magic, to not be useful to Zariah anymore and to break my oath. I wanted to become a weapon to fight back against her… But now she’s gone, and I didn’t exactly get rid of my magic like I had planned. I am both. An experiment, I suppose.” She says softly, eyes searching his face, hands reaching for his elbows.
“It’s not because of you, please don’t think that.”
Though the reassurance is appreciated, Peter isn’t quite convinced that he had nothing to do with this. But even if he truly isn’t, his agreement had to have hastened the process, and that in itself is nearly as bad, at least to him. He doesn’t have the energy to devote to the subject though, not when he has to immediately disagree again.
”I can be... I am safe here.” It is Peters turn to reassure Rexanna, his voice growing more sure.”Safer, or... as safe as anywhere else.” He’s believes so anyway. He does leave out the other reason for his refusal though, knows that it won’t be well received. Keeping something quiet isn’t exactly the same as lying after all. But despite everything, the disruption to his call and everything that has lead up to it, this is family. The closest thing he’s ever had. He’s never been any good at running away, not from things worse than this even.
Before she even speaks, Peter can see the hesitation in Rexanna, the careful weighting of options. It’s familiar, in a way he can’t quite place, but he recognizes the feeling. His mind, then his fingers, go to a scar on his back, and he wonders if maybe he shouldn’t have asked. He knows he wouldn’t answer a question about it.
To his surprise though, she does start speaking. Peter listens raptly, eyes focused on her, though his expression grows darker and more upset the longer she speaks. There is a beat, after she explains, where he nods and rubs at his own shoulder, the words ’I’m sorry.’ falling from his lips again. He hopes Rexanna can tell the difference, between this apology and the last, he’s not blaming himself for what she went through, but what else can he say in face of such familiar horror?
Peter chews his bottom lip while Rexanna continues, wearing it raw and bloody. He is not so presumptuous to assume that everything she described is linked to him, that would require a level of self importance he does not possess, but it leaves him at a loss. His questions are answered. At least, the easy ones are, the ones he was willing to aak. Save for maybe one. ”So... what... what are you gonna do now?” It felt so final to ask, like this would somehow be the last he ever saw of her.
The frown that graces her face begins to fade as Peter insists, using the same strength she had used her own voice into his, and she nods with a small sigh. She can’t force him, nor does she want to. But she wants to be sure that he will be safe and okay while he remains here. It’s the least she can do, all things considered.
But she weighs between the options of telling him the story of her brand. And eventually decides that there’s nothing anymore about Halyven that can come back and haunt her. She has forsaken it, forsaken her castle and kingdom for Ascension. And she doesn’t regret the decision. She’d like to see Calstron randomly show up here and try to get her back. She doesn’t imagine he’d live through it. But she gives him a small half smile at his apology. It’s different from before, more of a condolence than an apology, and she shrugs her own shoulders in response.
“It happened a long time ago.” She says softly. It doesn’t bother her so much anymore – all things considered, compared to a few of the other scars that design the rest of her body, it’s the only one that has an easy story – however horrifying it might be. But her gaze lifts to his face as he gnaws on his bottom lip until it begins to bleed, and she reaches out with her lukewarm hands to hopefully comfortingly rest on his arms. “Well, now I’m planning on fighting for what’s right.” She pauses thoughtfully. “To make sure nobody else has to suffer…” There’s a light pause as her gaze flits over his scarred hands to his face. “Like we did.”
”A long t-time ago...” Peter echoes, wondering if Rexanna is talking about years, or growth. He isn’t sure how much of her story and his are actually similar, though he wonders. Would she answer if he asked? Would he answer her if she asked? Maybe... blue eyes rose to her face, just as her cold hands grabbed him. It depended what she asked. But he wasn’t going to supply any answers, and he wasn’t going to ask for any more detail from her. No point in reopening scars, any more than they already had.
Licking his lip, Peter makes a face when he tastes copper, and lifts a hand to rub at his lip, like just that will take the sting away. It’s an easy distraction, something to do with his hands while he kills over Rexanna’s plan, not sure how to respond. It’s noble, and Rexanna is someone who he trusts to follow her word and not simply try to seize at power and control, but the sentiment is one he’s heard more than once.
The fingers now worrying at his lip pause, and tired blue eyes move up to her face. ”You can’t... someone always suffers.” It’s unavoidable, especially given the circumstances of the world they’re in. But, at the same time. ”I can... I wanna help. If you need.” Peter nodded, than, as if worried the bricks themselves had heard, turned back to look at the great manor. ”Bu-but not... not things that are... bad for them.” A contradiction, he knew, but it was simply part of who Peter was. He wanted to please everyone, wanted to help everyone.
He echoes her statement, and she nods. But her eyes meet eyes of a similar blue, cold hands grabbing onto his hands. A dark brow lifts in question. She doesn’t want him to suffer more, and if she had the ability to protect him too, with him willingly, she’d take it. But, as is… He’s going to have to figure it out. Come to terms with it all.
Likewise, she’s going to have to come to terms with letting him.
He pauses chewing on his lip as his eyes meet hers again, and she gives him a soft squeeze of encouragement while he begins to speak. A small frown forms on her face – she knows this, she does, she’d just rather it be the least amount of people possible. If there even was the possibility. But he tells her he’ll help, if she needs it, and she gives him a small smile in response.
Despite the contradiction, she understands, and she nods in agreement. She has no qualms with the rest of the Launceleyns, only Zariah. And for the time being, the Queen is gone. So at the very least she can promise it to Peter now, even if it doesn’t uphold later down the line. “Okay.” She agrees, soft and gentle as she can despite the intensity of her person now. “And Peter, if you ever need anything, please come find me.” She tells him, giving his arms a small squeeze as if to try and make the point stay.
She’s there for him, whether he needs her to be or not.
The corners of Peters lips curled up, a smile in name only. He was glad Rexanna understood, and didn’t say anything. Truthfully, he didn’t think he’d be able to explain himself if she had asked. Then, her hands are smoothing down his arms and she’s offering help, support. There’s a hot prick behind Peters eyes, and he has to blink, has to fight the urge to lean in and hug her.
”I will. I... I don’t need a lot though.” The words are meant to be reassuring, but as soon as they leave his lips Peter knows they will not be taken that way. That they’ll sound like something pitiful. He sucks a sharp breath in through his nose and closes his eyes, like the action will make the words go away.
After another long moment of quiet, of stillness, Peter took a step back, into the shadow of the manor. ”I-I should...” He gestures behind him loosely, knowing it’ll get the point across. ”...before someone notices.” He takes another step back, then turns back to look at Rex. It’s not going to be the last time he sees her. But...
He takes two steps forward, opening his arms as he goes so he can wrap them around her loosely, hugging her gently. Trying to put as much as he can into the hug, all the things he doesn’t know how to say. That he appreciates her, what she’s done, what she will do. It’s not long enough, and soon he’s stepping back again, unwilling to get too comfortable in any kind of embrace. ”Goodnight Re-Rexanna.”
Despite the words not coming out right, she understands what Peter is saying. And she nods to him with a soft smile of encouragement. She knows what it’s like, to not want to ask for help, to be self-sufficient. And he was just that. She’d never forget it. But silence overtakes them, and he steps back, sapphire eyes following his movements as he begins to make his leave, and she nods in agreement. “Yes, you should.” She agrees, if perhaps a bit sadly, but understandingly. The walls had ears, after all, that was the rumor she’d heard.
There is a small amount of surprise, however, when his retreating steps begin to move toward her, and he wraps her in a loose hug. For a moment she thinks she might cry, but instead wraps her own arms around him and pulls him in a small amount tighter. She would protect him, she would be there for him whenever he needed it. She would have to die before she were incapable of doing that much. Yet she lets him go when he chooses, appreciating the gesture even if she couldn’t feel it as well as she had before, and she steps back as well.
“Goodnight Peter.” She says softly, turning from him and disappearing into the night.
