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!
The little gourd took it as a grand opportunity for chase and silliness within the confines of the kitchen; and Melita sighed, nearly ready to tell him off or to be careful. Maeve stepped in quickly and efficiently though, heading them all off, and while Fangorn tossed the honeycomb around, Aidon seemed content and satisfied. She issued one little feral snort, before turning her attention back to the task.
She nodded, then moved along the next piece, creating some semblance of a pattern. Her head tilted, listening while her hands were busy, about proportions of the Wilds, of adventures in swamps and bridges; though she made no sign she’d been near deserts, with littered bones and newfound catacombs of forgotten soldiers. “That’s understandable. Maybe after?” Her eyes lifted, a shrug in her shoulders. Exploring with a child would be fun. She guessed.
To be fair, the honeybee probably wouldn’t be allowed to supervise an infant, ever.
“We’re headed to the Feverlands and last time we went to King’s End. It’s beautiful!” She hummed, feeling better, talking and thinking about something else. “And I’ve been to the Oerwoud a lot. There’s this amazing, foggy lake there!”
The Madame wasn’t at all bothered by the ruckus the two were getting up to, but it would lead to a potentially very sticky accident were it not prevented. So as any mother might do when a child has something that their own wanted, she gave Aidon one too, letting him munch away happily at the comb before he went back to trotting after Fangorn. The dragon attempted to play this odd game of catch, occasionally swatting at the comb with a claw as the gourd tossed it to and fro.
”Once they’re big enough. They’ll have a bit of growing to do before they can go out to the Wilds.” Maeve hummed, switching to the next jar, watching the golden liquid fill up the glass absently. ”You told me about King’s End. All the flowers you saw. I want to go myself some day.” She let her head tilt to the side thoughtfully, pulling a face at the mention of the Feverlands. ”I got stuck in the tar pits there. During last Flowerbirth when people were getting tossed across the Wilds. It was a rather terrible experience.”
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
The gourd grumbled and hissed, amusements in the convictions of this newfound game. Afraid to toss it directly to the dragon, in case Fangorn lost it, and therefore responsibility for the token as well, it was almost a game of juggling proportions – intentionally whipping it out of the way of claws and fangs, and then racing around the kitchen in leaps and bounds. Not a terror, but somewhere close, and the fact that this was the most logical of the duo between pumpkin and honeybee was probably somewhat of a travesty.
Melita nodded at the insinuations of children out in the Wilds (not speaking of the amount of times she’d gone off as a tiny rugrat, exploring caverns and climbing walls and diving into an Oasis pretending to be a sea monster; as if this was all very normal and not at all stupid or dangerous). It’d be up to Maeve anyway, and so the youth shrugged her shoulders, maneuvering along as jar after jar was filled with the precious liquid; ignoring the sudden pang of hunger rumbling around in her stomach. Perhaps Fangorn would lose his new toy before long anyway.
Her head tilted absentmindedly at the mention of the Feverlands. “Oh.” She’d never sunken into tar pits, never reached down into vast pools of something that could snag and take her down, down, down – only the swamps, while competing with Milo over who could catch frogs. “How did you get out?”
Aidon was willing to indulge in this game with Fangorn. Much as he was with all the other games he and the Vampire Gourd cooked up for them to play. The dragon swatted an batted at the honeycomb that Fangorn was carrying around the kitchen. Around and around and around they went. Neither of them tiring and both of them eager to keep playing this game.
Maeve glanced up at Melita, a small smile on her lips, "I was travelling with someone actually. Rigby. He didn't do anything at first. I was really deep into the pit. I couldn't reach the edge. Finally, he handed me the end of the stick and helped pull me out." She told her, recalling how terrified she'd been, how she thought that she would surely sink to her death in that sticky gunk.
"We took a long time to get home, but we finally managed it. Had to walk a really long way." Maeve wrinkled her nose, closing off one jar and pushing another over to take its place.
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
Bless Aidon; Fangorn hadn’t had this much fun with a dragon in a long time. Umbra had terrified him initially, so this entertainment had forged some newfound bonds and thoughts along with its bemusements. The gourd raced and raced, and then proceeded to try a new venue and distinction – striving to duck beneath the table, seeing if the dragon could or would follow.
Melita continued on her jars and honey, listening all the while. She’d had a run-in with Rigby once, though she didn’t know that was his name; just a vagabond creature, trying to moor his way along the Miana Pool. The rest of the story seemed to be a terrifying, tormenting one; and the honeybee gave no mention to the fact of how deep she and Milo had rampaged through a swamp without a care in the world. Could they have been pushed and pulled to the same fate? “I’m sorry that happened to you,” and she frowned, pulling away at some proportions. “The Oerwoud had some very pretty falls, and pools, if that’s more to your liking.” And certainly better than swallowing, all-consuming mud.
Unlike Umbra, Aidon was nowhere near as grumpy. He liked to play and frolic and chase. Only when there was a true threat to his bonded did the dragon become a terror. If Maeve was happy then he was happy. It was as simple as that. Right now, Maeve was happy and that meant that he could play. So play he did. Fangorn ducked beneath the table, but Aidon was quick to follow. It was just tall enough that he could manage it. With a warbling cry, claws scrabbled against tile and he slid through on the other side, trilling out a sound that was likely a laugh as he scrambled after the gourd.
"It was really scary at the time. I'd never been out of Torchline before and I didn't really know how to fight then." She admitted, lips pursing as they finally scrape the last of the honey into the jars, but she left the final jar open. Instead slipping around the table to pull a pan of buttery croissants from the oven, still warm from an earlier breakfast, but that isn't all the Madame finds. Croissants, fruit, cheese, and various other delights join the table and she doesn't hesitate to pull up two chairs for them to sit in. They worked hard and now they got to eat. "That definitely sounds more to my liking."
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
Between Fangorn’s rumbles (laughter?) and Aidon’s trills, the kitchen was a hoard of content noise and cacophony. Pleasantly surprised the dragon could fit, the gourd began to wave his vines around again, holding the precious honeycomb aloft, aloft, aloft – until it went sailing, accidentally –
Landing in that lovely pile of food Maeve had just arranged.
If it caught Melita outright after fixing and poising the jars, assisting in getting things upon the surface, it was difficult to tell. Her eyes widened slightly, before she snagged at the honeycomb quickly, placing it behind her back, and sighing. “This looks great,” she offered instead, sitting down and handing the food off to Fangorn once more with a round of something like a disgruntled sigh. Grabbing hold of a croissant, the youth snagged at a knife, intending to place the honey upon the pastry. “But you’re better now, and stronger too,” applied with a grin, a little hum under her breath.
Aidon watched it happen in what seemed like slow motion. The honeycomb went sailing above their heads and landed on the table his bonded was setting. He froze, head lifted high and orange eyes wide as Melita plucked it from the table, keeping Maeve from seeing their little bumble. Aidon let out a breath of relief, smoke blowing from his nostrils as he looked over at Fangorn, warbling something that surely seemed to say 'that was close'.
Maeve took a seat next to Melita, seeming to miss the whole exchange as she smiled brightly instead, "Thank you. Figured you deserved a meal after helping me with everything." She said, plucking a croissant for herself, spreading warm whipped butter across the flaky pastry along with some sweet honey. Maeve took a bite, humming at the taste of it, salty butter mixing with the honey. "I am. I've grown a lot since then."
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
The gourd had the notions and sentiments of looking a little sheepish, motioning his vines around in some poor rendition of a shrug towards the dragon, before winding around the table and waiting to see if he could get any scraps of other food. He pointed a couple times with the sentient motions, as if egging Aidon on to do the same.
Melita, unaware of the plotting for some spare munitions, hummed quietly, immediately content, worries forgotten, at the assemblage of food. Mouthful of croissant and honey, once she’d swallowed down another bite, and went to grab some fruit, she extended her gratitude again. “Thank you. Happy to help.” She hadn’t had a meal like this in some time. And a proud little smile inclined on her face, continuing in her stead once she’d taken a bite of some melon. “I can always help you train with the bow, if you want.” A shrug of her shoulders, the offer extended. It’d probably be fine for Maeve’s condition too – no real indication of any danger, and any practice was sure to be useful.
Aidon was no stranger to begging for scraps and Maeve always gave him some of whatever she was having. Even if it wasn't meat. Especially if it was meat or fish or anything that turned her stomach unpleasantly given the little life growing inside. Following Fangorn's lead, Aidon trotted over to Maeve's side, resting his head on her thigh and waited for his portion that would surely come. Just as he thought, Maeve tore off a piece of croissant and offered it to him, which he took oh so delicately. He ate half of it before trilling to Fangorn, holding out the other half between carefully clenched teeth, waiting for him to take it.
Maeve plucked a bit of cheese from the plate, popping it into her mouth along with a bit of dried fruit, chewing away happily. This was just what she needed. The Madame hadn't realized how hungry she was until now. "You're so welcome. I really appreciate it. That would have been much harder on my own." She hummed, picking and plucking at different bits of the feast, nibbling away happily. "Oh, that would be wonderful. I'm always looking to practice. Perhaps when you come back we can."
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
The little gourd was not often a mooch for food; quite capable of grabbing his own wares. Mostly insects. Sometimes meat. He’d learned not to be picky as a bonded companion. But he was suitably impressed, and it might’ve shown in the way his mouth rounded, little fangs poking out, in amazement, as Aidon easily snagged a portion of croissant. He rumbled and grumbled in return to his friend when offered another piece, greedily stuffing it into his mouth with regular aplomb, spreading crumbs everywhere under the table, then raising his vines in a show of contentment.
Melita applied some more butter and honey to her bread, head tilting vaguely, satisfied, comfortable, along the kitchen, in between plans for training and food. “Sounds good! I make all my own targets too!” What wasn’t said was the state of such targets – often haphazardly strewn together, with sticks tied, misshapen, rocks piled upon one another. They served their purpose, even if they were in a habitual state of disrepair and lacking in high quality. “We could probably set something up out back,” and she hastened her chin towards the garden, before grabbing a slice of cheese.
Aidon was thrilled to have impressed his new friend in such a way. It was a curious thing to see a Vampire Gourd surprised, but that's exactly the look on Fangorn's face when he offered him a part of his croissant. Not only that, but ever little bit of food that Maeve gave him is split right down the middle. As well as he can considering that he really only has teeth and claws to aid him in such endeavors. Still, it doesn't keep him from sharing.
"We likely could. I do have a few spare targets. Real proper ones. The person who gave me my bow originally seemed inclined to throw in a little extra." Maeve said with a little roll of her eyes, knowing exactly why the shopkeep had done so and while she was flattered, it grew tiresome occasionally. "Are you set to be back at the end of the season then?"
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
The kindness and compassion between companions had been a rarity for Fangorn; mostly because he was seen as either a nuisance due to his brethren, bizarre, odd, or not overly threatening. But Aidon was sweet, and that was all the little gourd needed to befriend the dragon. No one attacking him. No one maiming him. No one hunting him down. So he rolled along under the table, and tried to do the same with Melita – maybe some begging, maybe some more food, the vines snaking, outstretched, towards the edge of the table. She huffed one little sigh, but offered some fruit, and then the pumpkin shifted underneath, and extended his newfound rations to the dragon as well.
As far as targets went, Melita hid her disappointment at not being able to construct some misshapen hovel of a tower, or some tiny, pathetic shrub. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d used real, proper ones, considering most of her practice came at the hands of rocks, trees, and then animals and adversaries; survival had meant something else in the Rift. “Oh, that would be fun!” Perhaps it could be a whirlwind of experience for her too. Fiddling away at a slice of cheese, she shrugged her shoulders. “Supposedly mid-season.” She wouldn’t want to miss the Festival.
The dragon would have been rather content simply sharing his own winnings from his bonded, but Fangorn managed to get a bit of fruit for himself and the dragon was flattered to he shared with too. Of course, he left a bigger portion for the gourd, warbling and trolling his thanks with gentle nudges of his head against Fangorn's side in what was likely meant to be a cuddle. The not so little dragon was absolutely smitten. Whether he was meant to be or not didn't matter.
"I bet we could use some of the ones you make to make it more challenging too. Pretty easy to just hit a round target. You could probably make one swing from a tree or something." Maeve was always good at picking up such subtleties. Melita's disappointment, masked or not, was no different. The Madame was quick to jump in and ensure that the honeybee's efforts and feelings weren't forgotten. "Well, we can either do it when you're back or in the beginning of Deepfrost."
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere Nothin' scares me anymore Kiss me hard before you go
Summertime sadness
