[ P ] piece by piece

The air of the highland wilds tasted much cleaner than the city and smelled like home. A bittersweet experience for the young maid. Her heart longed to explore the vast rolling hills, run free through the woods and lose herself in a hunt. She dreamed of the days before she was at someone’s beck and call. One of which had insisted they make the journey in the first place. He dragged his feet, complaining all the way and made sure Roisin suffered along with him through every minor discomfort for seven long days.

The heat wave had delayed their departure long enough for Roisin to hope that Lord Elias might abandon the idea of trekking through the highlands. He did not. Her lord remained resolute in his desire to venture there even when the snow arrived. Roisin warned him that winter in the highlands was not like the gentle snowfalls in the mainlands. It was fierce, bitter and hard. Dutifully she had guided him through her native land, through the snow and cold. Whatever drove him remained unknown to her, but the young noble persevered despite Roisin’s hopes that the weather might drive them back to the Vanadium residence.

A mob of party goers trailing towards their remote destination awaited them upon their arrival and the thick smoke of bonfires drifted down upon them. Instinctively she shied away from the deep yearning in her gut to join her people. Both parts of her life intermingling like this left her confused and she felt her finely crafted mask cracking under the pressure. Lord Elias’s insistence that they join the festivities left her with little choice, but to resign herself to her fate.

Whispers of Prince Jacob’s return had her heart beating fast. More than anything she wanted for him to take his rightful place as king so that her family could be reunited again. To gain entry, uniquely marked pine cones were needed. Roisin didn’t need Lord Elias to tell her that it was her responsibility to get them in. Her highlander roots proved useful enough to win them a pair of pine cones and although her gaelic was rusty she succeeded in solving the challenges posed to earn their invitation.

The gatekeepers stared at them unblinkingly, glancing questionly at Roisin and back at Elias. Perhaps they could tell that the pair was out of place. Tha e còmhla rium, she told them and presented the pine cones, inwardly wincing at how rusty her gaelic was. Her parents would be ashamed of how much of their culture she was forgetting the longer she stayed away. She was losing herself.

@Elias

Art by Amphi

His nose wrinkled at the heavy scent of smoke. In the darkness, he could see the golden glow as it illuminated the snow-laden treese at a distance. Gray-white wisps curled within the air and blanketed the wolves in the heavy scent of ash and soot. He glanced sidelong at the various wolves, taking in the sounds of debauchery and joy. Such joy. Around him, wolves danced and chatted, luxuriating in the attention that the festival patrons bestowed upon them. He had been roped in momentarily—joining the festivities for a brief minute to inspect some silks—before disrobing and demanding that they journey further. Tir Na Nog held his flowers. And so up the mountain they would go. The very notion that pinecones were required for entry baffled him. White ears twitched with annoyance as he met the gaze of the wary bodyguards. He felt a command rise within his throat, but he feared that perhaps the illiterates would be unable to understand. Was the common tongue lost on them? Surely, since Roisin offered a quip in Gaelic. To Elias' ears, it was a song-like language, similar to the burbling of a creek. While pleasant, he wondered how anyone got anything done, what with all the extra syllables. Inefficient, that was what it was. Sure enough, they were granted leave to climb the mountain. “Have pinecones always been the bedrock of your economy?" He asked with a sniff as the smoke began to tickle his nose. “Do you forage like squirrels for them in the fall and winter?" -- “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."

STOCK ➤ Bine G. Dawnthieves MANIP & CODE ➤ Twisty

@Roisin

The young maid lingered awkwardly while her lord bedecked himself in silks like a prince. Dancers swayed around her, hips and elbows jabbing at her roughly. It wasn't the eloquent dancing of lords and ladies, but the primal passionate dancing that followed no particular pattern other than the impulses of the dancer. Eventually she managed to break through the crowd again in time to see Lord Elias setting aside the garments.

A demand was given like the crack of whip and once more they progressed towards their final destination. The guards waved them through after inspecting the pinecones and Roisin felt her muscles tighten with tension, half expecting her lord to make a remark that would get them both roughly ejected from the festivities or worse..

Somehow he managed to stay his tongue, but his next words were uttered bluntly and carelessly to her exclusively. Her blacked rimmed ears twitched, and she felt the anger at his ignorance rising up inside of her. It bubbled beneath the surface of a cold expressionless mask of indifference. Pinecones are actually highlander delicacies. A bit dry, but good for your teeth. We've actually trained squirrels to gather them for us, she remarked dryly.

You don't know anything about us, do you, milord? she asked, not expecting an answer. Her patience was wearing thin and she was tired of pretending that she was fine when this was the last place she wanted to be.

Art by Amphi

Stillnes is

the resonance of the mind and its fears

"Pinecones are actually highlander delicacies. A bit dry, but good for your teeth. We've actually trained squirrels to gather them for us."
Elias stopped and stared down his nose at his ever obedient servant. He mulled over her response, his brow knitting at the sheer impossibilities of her statement. Delicacies, by nature, required some element of rarity. Pinecones were the antithesis to that and lingered in the boughs of trees with relative abundance. This was but one hole that he saw. There were others—and as his mind wormed his way through them, he found the glaring flaw that laid all his effort to waste.

She had lied to him. Not maliciously, not in grave betrayal, but she had not meant a single word in her reply.

"You don't know anything about us, do you, milord?" Roisin asked, uncharacteristic in her question and the thinly veiled distaste that it held.

The fur along his spine ruffled and he rounded on her, cutting across her path so that she could not continue up the winding trail.

"I know—knew—you not to be a liar," he snapped, the coals of his fury stoked by the embarassment of having spared her response even a moment of thought. "And to behave properly, such as is befitting a person of your station. Is this how you act when surrounded by your kind? Uncouth? Untrained?" The wrinkle in his muzzle deepened and the bottoms of his teeth revealed. This was not a meeting that need come to blows, but it walked a thin and tenuous line.

code by EGGSY, minor modifications by claerie

@Roisin

The few moments of silence that her sarcasm had puzzled him into were more than Roisin could have hoped for. A small win for her. Any joy she might have taken from it was spoiled by her lord's outrage. Lord Elias had finally caught on that she had not been at all serious with her response and thrust himself in front of her, forcing her to step back. She stiffened, heat prickling through her skin as he angrily berated her. She could have bowed her head, apologised and carried on like before. Could have forgiven his rudeness and turned the other cheek like she was expected to. Like a good little servant.

He had pushed and pushed and pushed. Demanded, scoffed and sneered. Nothing was good enough for him and yet it was he who insisted they come here. He who had forced her back home without a thought for how she might feel about it.

Her ears rang with the insulting words he had chosen. Behave properly. Your kind. Uncouth. Untrained. Red eyes shifted to the pet foxes sitting obediently at their masters feet. Am I even a person to you? Or do you think I'm like those tame foxes? Just a pet that you can bark commands at, she questioned, red eyes burning with rage. It was the first time she considered how he might see her through those cold blue eyes and what he truly thought of her 'kind'. Part of her was afraid to know the truth. It felt like something that would ruin the fragile sense of contentment that she had fostered serving the Vanadiums. Her resolve was already shaken by returning to the highlands. Her home was so close, her family, the one she had been taken from.

Art by Amphi

Stillnes is

the resonance of the mind and its fears

Roisin was like... bone. A femur, perhaps. One that had been whittled into a fine staff—or a crutch, rather. A tool that Elias leaned upon, cherished, even. But it was not sacred, not revered, not maintained. No, it was well-used and worn. Every day he bore his weight upon her, mentally if not physically. He grew so used to making demands, to piling more and more on her sturdy shoulders, that he had not noticed the first cracks in the lacquer. She had never failed him before—she had never even allowed him to remotely fall. And so it had not occurred to him that he should check for the failings in the integrity of her structure, for the rot in the wood.

In the end, bone—which appears to be so strong and so reliable—is just as breakable as any other material during duress.

And once it fractures, there is no putting it back together again. Not in the way that it was.

"Am I even a person to you? Or do you think I'm like those tame foxes? Just a pet that you can bark commands at?"
He stared at her, his glare unflinching, and yet... he could not immediately formulate a response. Because he knew what the answer should have been. Even for a man so devoid of morals, he was well aware that it should have been yes without question. But that would have been a lie.

Roisin was reliable, responsible, capable, strong, intelligent, punctual, unfailing.
But he had never once treated her as a person. She had always been someone—something—to be used.

And as he stared into her burning red eyes, he felt their scorching heat. The rebuke that came from the ever increasing silence. He was far too self-involved to feel true remorse, but some part of his stomach twisted. His throat tightened.

And he did perhaps the stupidest thing he could. He told the truth.
"No." He bared his teeth, less at her and more at the stifling nature of the conversation. Morally, he had lost. And the level of reflection he'd have to wade through was like a dark pool and he incapable of swimming in it. Not in this moment, not now. "You were given to me and you played the role of dog so incredibly well that I had no reason to." Every slight had been handled with grace on her part, and while it was sickening logic for him to use, it was the way his emotionally-stunted brain was inclined to think. If she had whined more, struggled, or complained, he might have been forced to care more about her wants. Instead, she had handled every burden expertly.

And he had poured his energy into that which took more care.
But even he could see that it had been wrong. It was painted in every inch of space between them, in the pain upon her face.

"Go then." Elias snapped. "Go be a person. Stop being a servant—or serving those that abuse you." It was a challenge and he moved to shove past her. "Exercise more self respect if you want others to respect you even a little"

- exit Elias unless stopped -

code by EGGSY, minor modifications by claerie

@Roisin

It was the first time her gaze met the cold sapphires that so often glared over at her, blood red rubies stared back with an intensity that demanded an answer. A tense silence filled the air between them and it was so uncomfortable she felt the hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end. It was all the answer she needed without him speaking a word, but the answer he gave was so much worse than she could ever have thought him capable of. Every word was drenched with disdain and contempt for Roisin, a lesser being in his eyes. He took no accountability in his feelings towards her. He pushed the blame onto her for fulfilling a role that had been forced upon her. The humiliation of his comments felt like skin ripped from her flesh, it awakened all the feelings of shame she’d felt in the first year of serving them. You never deserved me, she bit back, a wrinkle of snarl forming on the blackened blaze of her nose.

You look down on everyone, but you’ve sunk so low you couldn’t redeem yourself if you tried. I don’t know how you can be proud of who you are. You’re nothing, but a vain child who throws people away like broken toys. You’re not capable of caring. That would require a heart and you are clearly lacking one, she retorted, words full ire and hurt.

You don’t get to order me around anymore. I quit, she stated firmly, knowing that she would never be able to forget the awful words he had spoken to her if she returned to the mainlands with him. With her head held high she stepped around him as if he wasn’t anyone of consequence and left without a goodbye.

Exit Roisin

Art by Amphi