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!
Leafchange was well underway now. The air seemed to hold a chill to it that wasn’t there before even along the coast of Torchline. Longheat and Flowerbirth typically kept the Nightshade locked away, hiding away from the sun and rain alike in an attempt to keep her milky complexion looking that way, unwilling to burn like many of her fellow Torchers decided to. She was restless. Much as she always was this time of year as Longnight drew closer and her inability to sit still drew her down to the shore the way it always did.
This time it was with the intention of relaxing and not walking until she no longer knew how far away from Haulani she had wandered. The queen had packed a small meal for herself. A mix of fruit, cheese, and bread. A sweet juice to be had in place of wine and one of her favorite books of poems that had been gifted to her from one of her old clients. Maeve spreads out a blanket for herself, weighing down the corners so it doesn't blow away before getting herself comfortable, a shawl wrapped loosely around her shoulders as a light breeze tugs at her curls.
Her companion lingers briefly, ensuring she’s alright before taking off for the water, intent on fishing or displacing crabs along the coast while his bonded tries to unwind. Despite his own plans, he keeps a close eye on Maeve and any who dare to approach, orange eyes blazing as they track along the coast from where he circles in the sky.
Boots in hand, pant legs rolled up to just above the ankle, the strap of his side-satchel secure around his chest and shoulder, Jacob let his mind wander as he ambled barefoot down the shoreline.
His mind was a clouded swim these days, bogged down by memories and thoughts, heady and difficult to navigate. The crash of ocean water converged with the rampant static buzzing in his brain, and while thinking was difficult, the soothing sound of the waves easily became a balm to his nerves.
Only recently had he begun venturing further than the streets surrounding his home. The harsh temperatures and great rains of Longheat had kept him bound indoors, and while such a solitary time didn’t typically bother him, there was something stifling about being kept indoors for too long, even for him. The simple cottage was his home, yes, his respite in many ways, but it had begun to resemble a prison, and so with the cooler weather of Leafchange in full swing, he had left his humble cage to wander.
The ocean called to him. Ironic, he thought with a crooked grin, blue eyes casting out to focus on the waters as he thought.
Jacob had only been back in Torchline for not quite a season, yet had hardly socialized since his return. He had been too busy; reading, cataloguing, taking notes as he hunched over his work desk, pouring over every book, tome, and manuscript he had collected along his journeys. The quaint cottage had become a bibliophile’s paradise, stacks of books piled upon nearly every surface, but… Hopefully not for much longer.
He had goals. Ambitions. Desires. A rise in anxiety prodded against the soothing, numbing nothing that cloyed his brain. There was something Jacob wanted to do, a task to fulfill… But accomplishing it would be daunting, nearly impossible to do on his own.
One day at a time.
Inhaling and tasting salt on the breeze, Jacob picked his path along the beach. It was quiet, save for the sound of the waves against the shore, the breeze, and the occasional sea-bird squawking. Simple. Pristine. Quiet. His eyes wandered the coast, admiring, cataloguing, filing away the peaceful scene, coming back to himself… Only to realize he wasn’t quite as alone as he thought.
A figure sat upon a blanket only a few paces ahead. Jacob thought about stopping, about turning around, or altering his path to maybe give the individual a wide berth. He didn’t want to interrupt their peaceful outing, but anxiety caused him to hesitate. What if they noticed? What if they saw him stop, or turn around, or go out of his way to avoid just walking by them and they called him out on it?
Chest heaving, he shook his head, running his free hand through his wind-swept hair. No, no. He was overthinking again. It would be fine. It had to be. It would be fine.
Forcing himself to relax, Jacob continued to walk, his feet sinking into the warm sands beneath his feet. Despite the recent chill, the sand retained warmth and it was pleasant. Grounding. Familiar. Growing closer to the figure, a woman, her dark curls swaying in the seabreeze, Jacob forced a smile, opening his mouth to speak before the cold hand of realization smacked him fully across the face.
Oh. The Queen.
Jacob almost choked. His first outing since returning to Torchline and the first person he runs into is the Queen? Fate, the ever cruel mistress, would surely be laughing for weeks. Still… He had to try despite his nervousness, and how very aware he was that he was rather disheveled for such esteemed, surprise company. Boots in hand, pantlegs rolled up, hair a mess from the breeze…
His greeting was simple, choked a little, raspy from how long he had gone from engaging others in conversation. “Greetings, Lady.” Quick, simple, and to the point, and Jacob hoped he hadn’t just made a terrible mistake.
but my peace has always depended On all the ashes in my wake
08-01-2021, 03:10 AM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2021, 03:10 AM by Maeve.)
I would fall from grace just to touch your face
Maeve might not have seen him, but Aidon did. He saw his steps falter. He saw the moment of hesitation, the trembling breath, and the way he ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to center himself. The dragon saw all of it, sending a a soft warning along the bond towards Maeve, informing her of the approaching stranger. However, the image that Aidon flashed is one that's familiar to her. Vaguely. Jacob Renwick. A somewhat familiar presence in Torchline in the way that many people are. Words whispered and small nods exchanged, passing in the street and occasionally existing in the same space, never really connecting, but always somehow aware of one another.
It had been some time since she heard word of Jacob, knowing that he had disappeared some time ago with the intention of gathering knowledge from all across Caidon, but there hadn't been any real sign that he was back. Until now.
Her eyes don't lift from the page of her book. Instead she acknowledged Aidon's warning with a quiet hum, urging him to stand down even as he grumbled his displeasure when she didn't seem to take his warning seriously. The dragon not liking the fact that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. Aidon dove towards the shoreline, landing in the sand with a soft thud, claws digging into damp granules as he moved towards Maeve when Jacob drew closer to offer his greeting. A low growl sounded in his throat, orange eyes flaring dangerously as smoke curled out of his nostrils, embers gathering on his tongue.
This finally grabbed her attention, along with the two words uttered by the not so stranger, jade gaze flicking up to him with a small smile curving on pink lips. "Lady... That's a new one. Suppose it's better than your highness. Still not used to that." She drawled mostly to herself, a quiet laugh pushing past her lips, head cocking to the side as she marked her page with her finger. "Good evening, Jacob. Been a while since I've seen you around."
The arrival of the dragon jerked Jacob back to awareness of himself, what he was doing, what he looked like, and where he was. The protective nature of the beast couldn’t be missed, an instinct that the man understood quite well in some regards, but storm-blue eyes watched as it crossed the sandy shore to move closer to Maeve. Had she always had a dragon? He couldn’t remember… But, well, it wasn’t really his business, was it?
Jacob remained stationary, his boots clutched in a trembling hand. Perhaps he should have just stayed home.
Swallowing hard, he waited, but blissfully, mercilessly, he did not have to wait long. The Lady’s return greeting wasn’t what he had expected, either, but… The day had been full of surprises thus far, and it wasn’t as if he and Maeve had ever truly conversed before. Hearing of someone, knowing of someone, was far different from speaking to them yourself. Jacob knew that. He understood…
Yet hearing his name on her lips shook him. She knew his name? They had seen one another a few times in the markets, passing by like ships in the night, a courteous nod whenever he felt bold enough to not just lower his head, alter his path, and walk away. Jacob hadn’t thought such sparse encounters would warrant a curiosity into who he was, but perhaps he was overthinking things.
He usually did.
Clearing his throat, he responded, trying not to wither beneath those sharp-cut jade eyes. “It has, Madam. I only recently returned to Torchline.” A sufficient answer, yes? Storm-blue eyes scanned the contents of the blanket, taking note of the book held delicately in the Queen’s milk-white grasp, the way her finger marked her page. A subtle sense of appreciation crested over him, foolishly, dumbly, for noticing how Maeve refused to bend the corners of a page to keep her place like most might do.
One could tell a lot about someone by how they treated their books. Jacob felt himself relaxing, even though he remained caught in her stare. Filled with a breath of bravery, the man lifted his eyes to catch her own, and he smiled meekly, that familiar, tantalizing kiss of curiosity tugging at him.
“It’s a beautiful evening for a read. Might I ask what you’re reading?”
but my peace has always depended On all the ashes in my wake
She knew everyone. Even before she became queen. How many people fell into her bed and spoke of others that inhabited their shared home? Those that had spurned them, gossip, heartbreak, musings of mysterious individuals that breathed the same salty air they did. Maeve heard it all, tucking little bits and pieces away to think on later or to further explore, never knowing when that information might be useful. Knowing Jacob was to satisfy her own curiosity, though.
He wasn't spoken about by those who filled her bed. No. There were whispers of the strange man who seemed to hide himself away. A recluse with nothing but cats for company. Books upon books to fill his time. Maeve was intrigued. There weren't many who kept away from her door, but he was one of the few. She couldn't help wondering why. So she investigated, gathering what little information she could about the handsome individual who curled in on himself like he was afraid to take up space, tucking it all away for when the time came.
It seemed that time was now. Her smile was sweet even as Aidon continued to grumble his complaints, overly protective of his bonded in a way that only grew with each passing day, but Maeve turned her her eyes to her dragon for but a moment. "Arrête ces bêtises, mon amour. Va jouer." The words came quickly, hushed by the waves that crashed against the shoreline and with one last look towards Jacob, Aidon set off towards the water's edge once more. Clearly unhappy with being sent away. He went anyway, but not without another glance sent Jacob's way that held clear warning.
Madam was a title she was more familiar with. More comfortable. With it, her entire body eased and she lowered her book to her lap, still holding her page with her finger. "I heard as much. Did you find what you were looking for out there?" She asked curiously, gaze raking over him from head to toe, noting the way he gripped his boots tightly and his other hand curled around the strap of his bag in a white knuckled grip. Only when he noticed that she was reading was there a sudden ease tugging at his clenched muscles, urging them to release that tension he was holding to so tightly, and then there was a smile. It was shy and reserved and a touch cautious, but it was sweet all the same.
Her own grew, eyes sparking with invitation as she motioned to the empty space beside her on the blanket. "Sit down and I'll read you some." Maeve invited, already pulling her eyes away from his to focus back on the page, clearing her throat as she fingers rasped against the paper, voice dipping into something lilting and almost sultry as it formed the words. "Bring me your pain, love. Spread it out like fine rugs, silk sashes, warm eggs, cinnamon and cloves in burlap sacks."
The Nightshade began, breathing life into the words and lifting from the page, wrapping them around both of them like the warmest blanket. "Show me the detail, the intricate embroidery on the collar, tiny shell buttons, the hem stitched the way you were taught, pricking just a thread, almost invisible." A pause for a breath, eyes flashing over to him, a faint flush on her cheeks as her lips curved around the words. "Unclasp it like jewels, the gold still hot from your body. Empty your basket of figs. Spill your wine."
"That hard nugget of pain, I would suck it, cradling it on my tongue like the slick seed of pomegranate. I would lift it tenderly, as a great animal might carry a small one in the private cave of the mouth. Maeve finally finished, clearing her throat before a soft laugh pushed past her lips, a hand reaching up to push wind swept curls from her face.
"What do you think?" She asked almost playfully, a light of mischief swirling in her gaze, leaning towards him as if she's sharing some sort of secret.
