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!
If I hold up hell, will you take the blame? Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
She hasn't been to a shrine in some time, worried that Frey wouldn't appear to them again, knowing that she got lucky the first time. Still, there was a war coming and she needed a better weapon. Her bow had served her well, but she wouldn't just be fighting ursurs and ningos anymore.
Lowering herself to her knees, the Shrike adjusts the fur pelt beneath her knees before setting out the basket she brought; peaches fresh from Torchline and a jar of honey. Shrugging out of her parka, daring to strip down as much as she can stand in the freezing air, Cordelia clears her throat to speak. "Frey, if I may have a moment of your time..." Her voice carries slightly on the wind and she fights back a shiver, cheeks flushed in the cold air.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" Cordellia may or may not notice a large bite suddenly taken out of one of the peaches as an invisible fingertip scoops out a healthy dollop of honey. Appearing on their own pile of furs, naked as the dawn and oozing both heat and sensuality into the freezing tundra, Frey eyes the newest warden through hooded lids.
"Such a pretty little thing to be out so far in the cold." They add, tilting their head back and laughing richly as they stretch their fingers through the soft furs on which they luxuriate.
If I hold up hell, will you take the blame? Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
It's Noah that appears to her on a pile of lush furs and her cheeks instantly heat, finding that she's no where near as cold as she was a moment ago as a flame ignites deep in her belly, causing her to shift as her thighs press together. Now, Cordelia isn't usually the smoothest of talkers. In no way can she be mistaken for a flirt, but the fact that the herald has appeared as her lover is giving her an advantage. "The cold is worth it to see you." She responds softly, looking up from beneath thick lashes as she inches a touch closer, drawn to the heat pouring off of them.
"I was hoping you could help me with something." Cordelia begins, "I know that the war isn't something that you have interest in, but I'm going to try my best to keep balance within Halo and protect the life there." She draws her bottom lip between her teeth.
The air warms considerably as Frey's fingers continue to work into the smooth furs upon which they lay. "Aww, what a sweet thing to say. Sweeter still to hear it from such a dangerous woman." Tipping her a wink, they extend a hand towards her to encourage her closer.
'Oh you are, are you?' They purr. "So if it comes down to fighting off the ascended or saving a gaggle of ningos, you'd choose the birds? Is that what I'm hearing?"
If I hold up hell, will you take the blame? Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
The temperature continues to rise and Cordelia is unable to resist the urge to draw closer. Especially as Frey beckons her forward with an extended hand. Her cheeks flush prettily at the compliment as it's turned back on her and she only pauses a moment before letting her hand slip into Frey's, inching forward on her knees, grateful that there are furs beneath them to protect her from the cold ground beneath them.
She huffs a soft loft, shaking her head as she lets her fingers trail along the inside of Frey's palm, "Not exactly. I'm referring to the people. Though, ningos are sometimes better company." Depending on who you ask, of course. "This war threatens the balance of all life, doesn't it? I want to do my part in maintaining that." And she'd do just about anything to ensure that they weren't wiped out of Caido. That there was life left. Now, she isn't fully aware of all that Sunjata is doing, but the Shrike has intentions to do her part, unwilling to rely on someone else to do so for her.
Gesturing again for her to pivot, Cordelia will feel strong hands against her shoulders and a sensation not unlike gentle rain falling across her spirit. "Flora and fauna out number you mortals a million to one." Frey replies as their fingers continue to tease away the tension in Cordelia's body. "I'm sure you care for the people of Halo, but they certainly aren't my priority."
One of the peaches the Shrike had brought with her rises into the air now, hovering before the woman's mouth. "Peach?" Frey asks, sounding entirely unmoved by the Warden's plight to protect her people.
If I hold up hell, will you take the blame? Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
Turning her back to the herald, Cordelia sighs out a breath as Frey's hands slip along her shoulders, working away the tension there with ease. Her lips twitch into a slight smile before parting around a hum, lashes fluttering shut, "You're not wrong. They will long outlive us." It was a matter of fact thing. Humans were moments from death in a world like this. It didn't care to cater to their soft bodies and precious needs. It was harsh. Unforgiving. "Then let me help you with what is your priority. If I happen to be able to care for the people of Halo in conjunction with that, so be it."
The offer of the fruit is welcome and Cordelia leans forward slowly, teeth sinking into the tender flesh, juice gushing to drip down her chin and along her neck in tantalizing rivulets. Cordelia turns her head slightly, cutting her eyes towards Frey as she tucks herself closer to the herald, "Use me, Frey. Please."
"And they're far preferable in so many ways." Frey agrees as additional hands rise up from their body so to add rain-light pulses from their fingertips up and down Cordelia's spine.
Watching as the Shrike bites at the ripe flesh and coils herself near, the god with a face like Noah's, smiles. "I prefer a bit of give and take, young one." So saying they lean forward, their lips kissing away the juice from Cordelia's chin before moving to her neck. Pleasure will erupt from the places they touch, as yet more and more hands reach out to hold the warden close.
"We have given Sunjata a task to complete, one that might benefit the citizens of Halo. Help him cumplete it, though how much assistance you give him is up to you. The quality of your reward will be based on the effort you put in." They whisper darkly against the cleft of her throat. 'That seems fair, doesn't it?"
If I hold up hell, will you take the blame? Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
That was something they both agreed on, at least. Cordelia shivers, heat curling at the base of her spine and fire licking in her belly, doing a better job at heating her than any hearth might have. Whatever tension lived in her muscles was quick to flee at Frey's touch, urging her to melt against the broad chest at her back, a moan catching behind her teeth.
Lips find her throat, wrenching that sound of pleasure free as her head falls to the side, exposing the slender column to the herald. Hands grip at the thighs that bracket her hips, fingers flexing against muscled flesh, unable to resist holding on to them. Managing a nod, words heavy on her tongue and struggling to form outside of a breathy, "Yes.." The Shrike agrees to the terms laid out before her. "I'll write to him and help however he needs me." She arches, unable to sit still as the pleasure burns through her bones and ignites the blood in her veins.
'Off you go then poppet." Frey whispers, and as they pull away, Cordelia will feel the echo of their presence like the the soft ripples of pleasure that linger after an orgasm.
