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[felandcris]

[felandcris]

Rand & Lanfear | The Wheel of Time 2x06

[felandcris]

@inquisitcr location: Court of Drow, Felan (and Somniar's) Tower notes: kiss kiss

It was almost five months now since Queen Ayi'ig had been killed in cold blood, and while the Court reformed, Felandaris continued to mourn the woman who was so very much like a sister to him. It was like what he said to his underlings though, to the sorcerers's guild and those who studied under his regime: they had to find a way to move forward. To climb higher than they had ever dreamed possible, the ceiling had been shattered, and it was time to make the most of it.

Felandaris had his gaze turned upwards towards the sky over the Otherworld, over the thirteen towers the clouds rippled with explosive bolts of lightning that shuddered in shades of violet. Their halls permeated the mana that he drew down as he ruminated quietly to himself. A rodent scurried over the banister, its brain exposed before it ran over his hand, when he reached for it the thing nipped at his finger, deep enough to draw blood before it scurried off. Felandaris smiled at this.

"Were you well received?" Felandaris asked as he looked over his shoulder at the Inquisitor that loomed like a specter in the archway, watching. The triumvirate had an arrangement with the elves and the senate, it wasn't necessarily ideal, but Felandaris wasn't interested in pursuing Ayi'ig's grudge when there were higher pursuits elsewhere. Greater threats, like the Abyss, and the denizens of the outlying realms who were attempting to make pilgrimage to this corner of the World Tree. Creatures with gluttonous intent, and those who were potentially infected by the Spellplague. "Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to just let them stumble around in the dark." He could speak to Severon about this eventually, but Felandaris was still contrite over the events of The End and preferred to let the Artificer stew a bit longer.

[felandcris]

I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.

@felandcris

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Enforcing the boundaries was a simple task, besides, only mindless creatures took to coming too close to the Court, the rest had learned. "Is there a reason you're reporting this to me and not your Matron?" Felandaris asked as he raised a brow at the priestess, "I'd hate for Nyloth to take this insult personally when she finds out. Besides, I don't dispatch warriors, but sorcerers." Fools played with toys, priestesses asked for power, and sorcerers took it. From what the Architect had gathered, Nyloth's prized was useful and ambitious, young, but every drow had started somewhere. That she'd risen so quickly in such a short period was a point to remark upon. "Besides, Somniar or Amadeus would have use for these creatures you're dispatching." Felandaris thought about the disgraced inventor, but only for a moment. "Perhaps Severon as well; if any tissue remains, he might make use of it." Plus, it would be amusing.

who?: @felandcris where?: court of drow

♝

Some may have thought the savage work of fighting the Otherworld was beneath a priestess, but Sinbyrn enjoyed the work. A sword went dull and impotent without fresh blood, and she understood the sentiment. She refused to become like the elders of the priesthood, content to play with shadows behind closed doors. Sinbyrn would always accept opportunities to lead a unit of warriors into the dark, however she'd continuously long for footsoldiers who were more of her caliber. "It was a successful campaign. Beasts nearest the Underdark were all dispatched. I was thorough and expect that our borders will have a short time of reprieve before more beasts return," Sinbyrn reports to the triumvir with measured tact instead of true reverence. In her eyes, she had nothing to answer to him for but maintained a respectful demeanor as well. "Once I again, I insist only capable warriors to be assigned to the units I lead. I have no patience for weak links." Unsurprisingly, the only casualties she had to report were males just as the last three times she ventured out. She had nothing to say on this burgeoning trend of hers.

[felandcris]

Felandaris & Somniar, Fortress to the High Sorcerer

"For too often with these very powerful individuals, their true gift is a curse: they are simply not bound by decency, and their ruthlessness that so many praise is to the detriment of those around them. They are foul beyond expectations."

w/ @inquisitcr

13 Spires

Towering into the skies above the Court, the Thirteen go as low into the Underdark below as they do into the sky over the Otherworld above. Patrolled by the Illithids under Somniar's control, deep within the bowels of the drows' fortress, the Elder Brain, under the Inquisitor's control, is kept alongside the adolescent leeches Somniar is raising. Accompanying the myriad of illithid creatures are the wizshades, the specters of sorcerers caught in the backlash of their own magic that has left indelible impressions. The spires leading down into the Underdark branch into sporadic catacombs spanning miles. The grottos and chambers below are abundant with flora and fauna unique to the Underdark, well studied by the drow sorcerers under the Architect's regime. Located at the summit of each tower are the Astral Gates powered by the mana that the pillars are specially designed to channel from the stars above and the paragon below. Subjugating the soratami held the final piece to completing The Astral Gates constructed by the Architect, bridging together different realms beyond the reach of the World Tree. The thirteen spires' walls are alight in a purple hue, and raw and primal mana runs through the veins of the architecture, making magic limitless and accessible to those who study within the halls. The Prime Tower, however, is exclusive to Felandaris and Somniar unless expressly invited within.

Interior

Within the interior of the Prime Tower sits a throne for Felandaris to hold court over the sorcerers under his command. About the table, the heads of the respective schools of the arcane built from the fundamentals of Menzoberranzan gather to debate, inform, and discuss. The spires are littered with ritual chambers and research areas, but within the Prime Tower is the most expansive arcane library across the Continent. Filled with writings from the soratami, restored works from the elves, proto-drow, daemonfey, fiends, goblins, and other resources painstakingly gathered over thousands of years of construction. Within the prime are pools of mind leeches soaked in brine pumped up from the hidden chambers of the Elder Brain below. Here in the observatory, Somniar and Somniar alone care for and tend to them.

Temple to the Dark Seldarine

A temple is dedicated to the nine members of the Dark Seldarine in the ninth tower, on the ninth level below the surface level. In the Underdark below, nine tunnels feed from the nine stairwells that all bring the sorcerers of Felandaris' guild to the gates of the Dark Seldarine. Reserved exclusively for the sorcerers, about the spacious chamber are statues to the Dark: Keptolo: Consort of Lloth and god of ambitious male drow seducers, hedonism, beauty, and fertility. Kiaransalee: Goddess of undead, necromancy, and vengeance. Malyk: God of chaos, rebellion, and wild magic. Eilistraee: Goddess of beauty, dance, song, freedom, moonlight, swordwork, and hunting. Ghaunadaur: God of all things subterranean, jellies, oozes, outcasts, rebels, ropers, and slimes. Selvetarm: God of drow warriors and slaughter. Vhaeraun: God of drow males, evil activity on the surface, territory, thievery, and arrogance. Zinzerena: Goddess of assassination, illusion, and lies. Lloth: Goddess of assassins, chaos, darkness, drow, evil, and spiders. About the sorcerers' guild, worship of the various members of the Dark Seldarine are venerated. Long dead, those who once faded long ago in Lloth's absence have begun to whisper back to those willing to prove their devotion and the ambition to take the power they are rightfully owed.

Personal

Within the Prime Tower, the highest echelon of the tower are untouched by anyone but Felandaris and Somniar Baths drawn from the rivers of the Underdark below, a fluorescent biome of rich organic life with the stars painted above. Finery drapes every surface, silks spun from the threads of rare and poisonous spiders, and ritual chambers dedicated exclusively to Felandaris' secret workings. Bed chambers and finishings mined from the body of the paragon below, mana abundant, and plans kept tightly guarded. A domain of equal parts pain, and pleasure.

[felandcris]

Beyond this room, the festivities continued to rage into the dark, yet between the two of them, Felandaris could think about nothing but the creature he'd devoted so much of himself to. The sorcerer was without an equal and was void of any that he could relate to, debate with, or learn from. His ambition did not end in Lloth's Underdark; it transcended the means of the Abyss and would see him climb to even greater heights. Felandaris would take Somniar with him; he'd drag him if he needed to, though the Architect that the Inquisitor would divine means of his own to see their ambitions fulfilled. This was what it meant to Felandaris to be ruthlessly in love; where once he'd seen a ceiling, now his conquest to revive the other had opened a star field of possibilities. He would never stop, they would never stop: relentlessly unsatisfied, his hunger translated to his appetite for the man beneath him.

"Just this once?" Felandaris playfully mocked, violent, violet eyes fixated on the creature beneath him. Somniar was warm between his thighs, the pinch of Somniar's spiked collar at his wrist. Felandaris tightened his grip as he leaned into the other's hold, his free hand curled around the man's forearm as he pressed, choking himself further with Somniar's hand. He could feel the static from the other's lips as they hummed in the hair's width between them. Pointed teeth glinted menacingly in the dark. He could tear the rest of the inquisitor's beautiful face, and Somniar would thank him for it. "What could a measly, pathetic commoner ever do to stop me?" Felandaris rolled his hips as the hand at Somniar's throat gripped tighter and pushed the other's chin up to point closer to the ceiling at an almost unnatural angle. The other hand slipped between them, a nail cut through the thin, metallic mesh of the other's shirt to strip his chest bare before it moved beneath the waistband of Somniar's pants and curled around the width of his lover's cock as he moved his hip in slow ministrations. On his way to the Inquisitor's ear, Felan's teeth brushed the line of Somniar's jaw, "Now sit, stay. Obey."

An insult or even a slap in the face were both things that Somniar often enjoyed. Well, it was actually dependent upon who was throwing them his way. Most of the time, it was Felandaris though. And, if anyone was going to insult or rough him up and have him enjoy it, it was certainly going to be the Architect. The other had called him depraved more often than not, but it wasn't like he could really find offense in the statement. Ayi'ig had often stated the same. It felt more personal when Felan said it though. Even as it was met with a hand tightening within his hair and the other spitting in his face. People did so enjoy that with him. He was starting to think his face just drew saliva towards it. He'd only enjoy it when Felandaris did so though. Having the other jealous wouldn't benefit him in the slightest.

His thumb lifted to swipe the spit across his skin and to his mouth, a smile gracing his marred features as he did. "We can go over this so-called lesson as many times as I fucking want to." Hands moving to grip the other's waist within them, he pulled Felandaris down to him so that the other's knees were on either side of him. In a quick movement, fingers curled around the other drow's throat to pull him in. "You can do better than that, darling." His other hand lifted to push his fingers into the Architect's mouth to pull it open. "Or do I have to teach you the lesson?" As the question left his mouth, he spit directly into Felan's own. Then he pulled the Architect's hand so that the other's fingers curled around his throat. His own didn't let go of their grip on the drow's throat only so that he could pull him closer. "I'll let you disrespect me just this once."

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"I've never had any doubt that it was someone who'd at least been to the court before," Felandaris thought briefly about Evanuris; the Handmaidens had canonically descended upon drow societies that had strayed too far from Lloth's light. "it's to our disadvantage that we took root in a home that was formerly held by the fey, they entertained the entire city a little over a year ago. Even after we took hold, there were break-ins." He thought about the traitor Dareth, Ayi'ig's disgraced son Aegnor, to Melpomene and Mneme. Aurora, who'd been held prisoner. Meryasek, whose children would never be safe while the Queen still drew breath. The drow weren't short on enemies; now Felandaris had to make peace with his ascension while his sister lay dead. "The Triumvirate has made nice with the elves, but," he tilted his head for a moment as he looked past Rhovanor towards the funeral that was beginning behind him, "we'll see how long that lasts." Bitter malice laced his tongue, for their crimes Felandaris would see them all flayed, eventually. "Carelessness will get you killed, every time." Living in the moment was a foolish, youthful notion. "Do you intend to join them?" As the drow understood it, Rhovanor had a place with the elves' new realm.

For some reason Rhovanor had trusted Felandaris, even before everything went down, even before Haven. Still a Drow, still powerful and selfish, Rhovanor considered himself one of the lucky few whose standing had actually somewhat improved over time. He could see why Felandaris fought as hard as he did. Trying to save Somniar, to get everything back he'd lost, it was through the eyes of a Drow that Rhovanor eventually understood the true meaning of loving someone. Putting aside one's differences and fight for a common goal, to find that one person who makes you happy. "I don't know, at least that's what I thought for the longest time. I guess adapting, taking control of my life," his voice was without any malice directed towards the Drow, "Titania's gone, Ayi'ig's gone," he looked towards Felandaris, "whoever did this knew their way around court, that I'm sure of," no outsider, that was his guess. Adapting to the Illithid mindset was still something he had to work on, despite his almost non-existing knowledge of his life before the tadpole, Rhovanor still knew what had happened to him, through Jonah, through others. He'd considered his old self weak because of what they'd told him and vowed to never fall prey to someone ever again.

"And you're trying to get on top? Well," Rhovanor snorted, "obviously." Scratching the back of his neck, Rhovanor just nodded in appreciation, "he deserves you, he really does," the Illithid's facial expression softened, "after all this time, don't you think it's time to just... live? Live in the moment , I mean."

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"I keep my word," most of the time, anyways. When it benefitted Felandaris in some way that was often the case; this did not, but neither would he abide going back on something on someone who had him a great service. "what do you intend to do now?" It wasn't as if the illithid didn't have options, though too much choice could break a person like him.

"We've been searching, but there was nothing: no witnesses, not a trace of evidence left behind." Felandaris was visibly frustrated by this, the implications seemed obvious that if they had not found something yet, then it was entirely likely that they never would. "The power balance has shifted, there are houses in the Underdark scrambling to ascend, the best of the best have been welcomed into the Court within the Otherworld." Things had indeed changed for the drow, the recently ascended dark elves with power that was no longer constrained. "Somniar's a survivor, he's adapting." Felandaris had Rhovanor in part to thank for that, hence his mercy and the small shows of kindness.

"Yeah, kinda," he shrugged at Felandaris' poetic conclusion. Sure, the Illithid had wanted his freedom and hadn't anticipated the actual consequences of that, but everything sounded much more appealing than servitude, right? Right? If Rhovanor focused on anything but Felandaris, the prospect of freedom was the best choice after all. One look and he doubted himself. "I, uh, forgive me," he stumbled over his words and fell back into old habits, apologizing when he wasn't precise enough, "I'm still a bit overwhelmed with getting to know you this way. I know what you're capable of, which is to say I'm amazed with how much kindness you've shown me." He'd forever be grateful for his treatment among the Drow, which wasn't as bad as some, he knew that.

Felandaris' next words, however, caught him by surprise. The Queen, dead? Brows furrowed together in shock. Whoever did this must've been either strong or knew their way around court. He immediately suspected someone, but didn't dare to voice his suspicions, knowing it wouldn't lead anywhere. The Drow were ambitious and cutthroat, so... anything was possible. "If there's anything I can do to help, let me know, alright?" Scratching the back of his head, the Illithid looked utterly confused as Felandaris remained truthful and so... available, for lack of a better word. "Despite my freedom, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know that." After everything, how could he not? There were worse monsters out there, even in his own heart, calling out to the Illithid and being in his thoughts. "How is he? You've got a lot of catching up to do, right?" he smiled softly, "Despite what happened to the Queen."

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It was impossible to feel anything but secure in the revenant's presence, he was even older than Felandaris, older than any among the court, and with that came uncompromising skill. His regal blood, stature, and proximity to divinity made him quite the perfect companion. Boranehn's arm draped across his shoulders and Felandaris' hand moved to hold the other's as the two of them fell into a step with one another. "We must have suffered a great deal." Felandaris had been broiled into this truest version of himself, briefly he thought about Somniar and the lengths that he had gone to for the man.

"I'll have to keep that in mind then, should the occasion arise I'll be sure to make sure you have a front row seat." Naturally Boranehn was correct, this realm was as far beneath them as the ground was the clouds above. Yet, here they were, all but forced to walk among them as if they were something akin to an equal. Despicable; Felandaris did so enjoy stabbing people though. "You're too kind to me, my ego swells every time you're around."

"Hm, well, you are correct about that." Boranehn himself was a gift actually. He was made to be someone of importance and someone of importance he would be. Never would he lower himself down to be someone lesser than what Sehanine had made him, what Ayi'ig had made of him. Perhaps he was the best of the elves really. High and dark alike. A hand moved to stroke the back of the other's head before his arm fell around the architect's shoulders. "In suffering, we find our truest selves, Felandaris." It seemed the drow got the point of his statement though. Serpents shed to begin anew. Nobody knew as much more than Boranehn.

"Oh, I would never call you boring. You are merely just a part of my daily schedule." If he were to pick three people to visit within his day, the choices would have been obvious. First would probably always be Hyrsam. Then came Felandaris. After that was whoever he had been transferred over to be at the side of. Right now, that person was Nyloth. He would never call any of them boring though. They were just...a normal part of his day. "Do not let that stop you from starting a civil war or burning the city to the ground though. These cretins don't deserve our presence." He'd make sure to give the proper parties a warning beforehand. A smile lifted onto his face at the mention of one of the architect's creations. "As much as you love my word play, I do so love your creations."

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Sometimes Felandaris was overcome with an urge to beat Somniar; it was quite different from his relationship with Konstantin though, the demon's regenerative abilities were just fun to toy with. Somniar and him were one in the same in that corporal forms of punishment were akin to foreplay, all forms of punishment were different forms of foreplay, actually. He considered a few options before Felandaris settled on some variation of all three, his touch was light as he graced the exposed bits of bone and sinew.

"You depraved, loathsome peasant." He pushed his thumb past the other's lips to press against Somniar's tongue as he so often did. The drow's hair had grown long, long enough to grab when the situation arose. Felandaris' fingers tightened their grip within the root of the Inquisitor's hair as he spat across his lover's perfectly terrible face. "How many times must we go over this lesson?" Hopefully often and many more, Felandaris, like Somniar, did so enjoy when the other chose to do things the hard way.

As to be expected, Felandaris was not to be outdone. Of course, he would always comment on the fact that the man really barely wore any clothing ever. A stiff wind could breeze by and the architect might as well have been naked. It was often difficult not to kill anyone that even glanced in the other's direction on sight. He supposed he didn't need to hold himself back though. Maybe he'd torture them next time. Somniar was sure that the architect would have loved to be a part of that. Even more than that though, there was nothing Felandaris loved more than bossing him around. If the inquisitor were anyone else, he was sure they would've been jumping for joy at the thought of just being near the other drow. He, however, did not like to be disrespected unless he was asked to be. Regardless, there was no way he could deny the way blood rushed down his body at the way the other's fingers curled beneath the collar around his neck.

They finally found a room that Felandaris deemed fitting enough, but of course the other party that had been occupying it had been summoned away. That was unfortunate. They probably could have had some fun with them. Somniar had mentioned how much he would've loved to peel someone's skin off. The thought stayed within his mind as he was pushed onto a chaise and the other's hand fell into his hair to pull his head back. Brows furrowed, he couldn't help the smile that curled the corner of his lips upward. "Have I ever wanted anything the easy way, darling?"

[felandcris]

It was true that Felandaris was always at his happiest when he was in the Inquisitor's presence; it mattered very little to him what they were doing or how they were doing it, so long as the two of them were together. Felandaris had always transcribed love as some sort of weakness, and perhaps it was, though the sorcerer felt he was at his most powerful when that love was threatened. He'd come to believe that Lloth felt the same way, why else would she have seen all his plans come up victorious?

Boranehn always appreciated Felan's turn of phrase, but what the Architect liked even more than a bent ear was when Somniar would go through the effort of thoroughly silencing him. For a creature like Felandaris it took a great deal to strip his robust verbiage from the annals of his mind, but the Inquisitor had particularly effective means of making the drow momentarily draw nothing but blanks where his thoughts ought to be. "We've talked a great deal, endlessly, in fact." His fingers brushed through the other's hair delicately, a light touch as if to antagonize the man and gode him into that delicious fire that Felandaris was so fond of. "Yet here I remain, lavishing you with my words: throat empty, tongue wagging free."

Somniar would not let himself land within the weak category. He would not be known as someone who was beaten down enough to find himself in the gutters. He'd already scratched and clawed his way to the top and he would not allow himself to be stuck at the bottom again. Even if he didn't have Felandaris, that would still be true. He would not lose. He deserved every single thing he had ever gotten because he had put blood and sweat into everything he did. Well, actually, it was mostly blood because he did love to thrive off of the misfortune of others to get what he wanted. How else was he supposed to get all of that information that the Court of Drow so desperately craved? Ayi'ig was no longer here, but he would still be the inquisitor regardless. His allegiance would always be to Felandaris.

"There I am," he repeated as the architect made himself comfortable above him. Well, this was a position he definitely didn't mind being in. There was also the fact that Felandaris was often very good at the pillow talk. They were quite ahead of schedule for the other to be talking so soon, but he'd deal with that for now just to see that look that hadn't changed on the other drow's face. Fingers slipped past his lips and down his throat. He lifted his own to grip the back of the other's neck and pull him down towards him. A smirk curled his lips as he looked at Felandaris. "Poetry again, darling? Haven't we talked about this?"

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As much as he did not care what others saw, neither Felandaris or Somniar were for their eyes. He turned in the Inquisitor's lap as he reached over his shoulder and hooked his finger through the other's collar - tugging him roughly to his feet as Felandaris stood and half dragged Somniar through the den of depravity towards somewhere more private. What was it these mortals were celebrating again? Death? Depravity? Saturnalia? Oh yes, Saturn. Felandaris rolled his eyes at the thought of that one, Time hadn't been such a difficult opponent in the end. Six lives seemed like a fair trade, Felandaris would've given far more to return here... However temporary all this might be. Preparedness in the days to come would be key, not even he could predict the gravity in this shift of fate.

Arm bent over his shoulder, finger firmly wrapped under the Inquisitor's collar, Felandaris pushed open a door and sent the lovers who'd occupied the space within elsewhere. Some distant part of the city, buried in the snow with nothing but their nakedness to protect them. Without much effort he pulled Somniar forward and tossed him onto the chaise; this castle was auspiciously designed, sprawling in a maddening way that made its corridors seem infinite. Felandaris wondered what matter of enchantment had sunk into the old stone, or if it's maddening halls were just a preference of its builder. All the same, Felan found himself quite partial to it, almost enough to pay it a compliment. Almost.

Felandaris approached Somniar in fluid strides, something akin to a serpent wandering towards otherwise unsuspecting prey. His boots knocked between the other's so that he could stand between Somniar's knees, Felandaris' fingers threaded through the other's hair as he craned the man's face to take in his mutilated features. Hauntingly beautiful. "Will we do this the easy way, or the hard way?" He tipped Somniar's head back a bit, his grip on the root of the other's hair relentless, "My love."

Somniar could count on one hand the amount of things he cared about in his life. He barely cared about status considering how he had grown up within the Underdark. He'd scraped and clawed his way to the top, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to live in the gutter. No, there were two things he cared. Second were his illithids. First would always and forever be Felandaris. It was further cemented by the way that laugh left the other's mouth. It wasn't the usual kind that was heard from either the Architect or the Inquisitor when they were inflicting torture upon others. No, this one was different, happiness laced throughout. Perhaps Somniar could use that word to describe how he felt around the other drow. Then again, maybe that word felt far too miniscule. Whatever. He'd expressed his love to Felan several times over. They'd both had to pull each other from their pits of insecurities which was already enough of an indicator of how much they cared for each other. Loyal to one was what it really was. Somniar had only ever cared for his own goals before and now, as the taste of strawberries and chocolate passed between their tongues, he'd realized just how much he would do for Felandaris if he simply asked. Teeth found the other's bottom lip for a moment before letting go. "Many more to come." As much as he wanted to keep tasting the other's lips on his tongue, he wanted much more than that right now. "I didn't wear this collar for you to be gentle with me."

[felandcris]

FELLOW TRAVELERS 1.03 "Hit Me"