moiraangmar

[moiraangmar]

MOIRA DID NOT THINK SHE WOULD EVER GET USED TO THIS HEAT. Then again, she wasn't really making an effort to adjust, anyway. Why should she try? They will go home, sooner or later. While she had been adaptable, some things simply did not require adapting to - it was pointless & beneath her to act like a giddy, Summer-struck tourist. Pouring an hefty glass of whiskey for herself & her husband - perfectly chilled with two cubes of enchanted, melt-proof ice - the lady Angmar snorted out half in amusement, half in annoyance.

not at her husband, of course.

"I don't think I ever will. But, iced water & an occasional chilled drink helps battling it. All these pools of cold water in our rooms are also meant to help. They don't seem very... safe to lounge in, but when the heat becomes too unbearable they prove rather tempting. Naturally, they say the sea is the best source of refreshment. I can't say I'm thrilled over it. The Sedra is much more beautiful & less... crowded." she handed a drink to Darío. "I take it you're not adjusting well?"

darío and @moiraangmar at one of the all's lounge rooms.

The  humid  air,  the  stifling  heat  in  the  air⸻He  had  only  been  there  for  a  few  days,  but  he  already  felt  that  tickle  in  his  patience  that  insisted  he  return  to  where  he  belonged:  the  Night  court.  One  special  thing  about  that  need, though:  he  could  not  satisfy  it.  He  was  already  there,  and  there  he  would  stay.  A  choice?  Non-existent. 

Looking  out  the  window  from  the  lounge  they  all  shared,  Darío  admired  the  sea  without  much  enthusiasm.

“Have  you  gotten  used  to  this  heat?”  The  sun  blazed  outside,  beating  down  directly  on  anyone  who  dared  to  submit  to  it.  To  his  regret,  he  was  still  a  victim,  no  matter  how  careful  he  was  to  keep  a  roof  over  his  head.  “It  seems  impossible.”

[moiraangmar]

THAT WAS POPPYCOCK. The Sisters of the Courts of Prythian were meant to be each other's guide & support. Waving her hand dismissively & lightly shaking her head, Moira responded. "Truly, there is no need for that. It is our solemn duty to help each other as well. If the High lieges have their inner circle to support them, why should we not support each other? Our acolytes can only help us so much - their training cannot really prepare them for this. Just as nothing could have prepared us for these trying times we've been living through the past year." it was Mother's will - or someone else's. The Cauldron? Perhaps. Who can guarantee the pot of iron & creation does not have a will of its own? No one can, not really. She reckoned even the Cauldron Made, like the Dark Mother herself, did not really know with utmost surety.

perhaps they never will know for sure.

Moira hummed in agreement, taking a sip of her drink, savoring the taste. "Our relationship with her will always be full of questioning & doubts. It is the nature of faith, to have doubts, to frown at our Mother for her periods of silence. But, aren't all children doubtful of their parents, at some point in their lives? We are still young. Surety in our deity will undoubtedly come with age." so long as their faith does not turn blind - zealots were never... the greatest of practitioners of faith. They were ruthless & savage. "& so we shall believe in her choice of us. She chose us for a reason, Sister Meera. We shall not disappoint her, for such is her will."

to  succumb  to  the  forethought  of  the  ancient  sisters  —  it  was  something  meera  has  considered  on  her  own  .  she  has  never  given  voice  to  it  ,  never  dared  to  believe  it  .  but  in  the  presence  of  others  ,  and  the  temple  itself  ,  no  matter  what  kind  was  carved  from  the  landscape  ,  she  believes  it  could  be  returned  to  .  though  who  would  dare  to  mutter  it  in  the  end  ?  to  do  so  might  betray  the  court  of  winter  .  and  was  she  willing  to  leave  it  as  she  was  the  capital  itself  ?  her  heart  pangs  .  “  as  usual  ,  you  give  me  much  wisdom  and  assurance  i  feel  i  don't  deserve  ,  ”  admits  she  .realising  that  ,  in  these  moments  ,  she  explored  her  shortcomings  more  than  before  .  could  not  put  a  time  nor  place  to  when  that  had  changed  ;  when  she  started  letting  others  ,  including  moira  ,  into  her  space  .  even  if  she  was  still  reserved  ,  it  was  still  nothing  like  the  distance  of  before  .  “  but  you're  right  .  in  this  wheel  of  time  ,  all  of  us  are  as  it  wills  ,  all  of  us  have  a  thread  in  this  tapestry  .  seers  would  remain  bewildered  without  us  to  interpret  their  visions  .  ”  her  previous  tirade  calmed  as  she  swirls  the  wine  .  “  and  the  mother  couldn't  speak  without  us  .  that's  why  we  were  chosen  .  ”  resolute  .  firm  .  reassuring  herself  ,  reassuring  them  both  .  that  this  is  exactly  how  things  are  meant  to  turn  out  . 

[moiraangmar]

WELL, THAT WAS INTERESTING TO LEARN. It was a shame she'd never met the commander, then. Perhaps a time will come when the two of them will meet, though it was not in Moira's nature to seek others out. Fate shall decide upon this one, then. But, when Clarabel continued to speak of the Mother, the lady Angmar found herself tilting her head in question, eyebrow slightly arched & a petite smirk dancing upon her lips. Oh, she never doubted her? The whole premise of faith was to doubt - everything, everyone. The most passionate of devotees had one been the most scornful of the deity end up worshipping in the end. "Is it not in our nature to doubt, Sister? I do doubt our Mother. I doubt her motives & I doubt all of the things she's keeping hidden from our sight. She is a god. To doubt her is to acknowledge her. Perhaps her power cannot reach Gaea. Perhaps she doesn't want her power to influence Gaea's next High liege. Until they are picked & chosen, until we know of their identity... then we can only speculate." Moira responded with a light hum, then added. "Gods always have an ace in their sleeve, my dear. One last information they have been unwilling to share until the timing was right. They are Gods for a reason."

the High Priestess of the court of Night tilted her head.

She didn't know what happened to her Sisters in their lives before the cloth, but she wasn't foolish to think their lives were as... easy as hers had been. She had been trained for the role since infancy & she fell right into it. Devotion was not even that much of choice or a personal reason for her - it was a habit, a skillset & a life's purpose. Perhaps she wasn't as devout as some of her Sisters, nor as meditative as the other. Perhaps she cared very little if the Mother spoke to her. It was a sacred duty for the Angmar women & perhaps a final purpose. Standing without a daughter to inherit the title, the next Angmar will have to do - her younger sister ( or her daughter, if she has one ) will have to do. Choice was always an illusion, but it did not mean she presumed the others had it as easy as she did. Reaching over, Moira's hand clasped Clara's, a petite smile softening her features. "Magic is a tool, Sister. Tools are incorruptible. Those that wield them are to be blamed."

it was a possibility.

"IF - & I'm saying if - the Cauldron tips over once more, if its creational waters spill over the edge... who knows what will come out of it. The Mother tipped it last time, to create us & mortals to her likeliness. We got the magical aspect of her, they got the... visage. Our ears apart, we do resemble each other, & strikingly so. If the Cauldron has a mind or a will of its own, if it's... creational energy gives it some kind of sentience... none can predict what may come out of it. Perhaps another race of the fae, one that will not resemble us, that will be more horrifying & stronger than us, more powerful & with a clear goal to end us for our wickedness." Moira said, but then softly chuckled, adding, "Or, it may make another specie of deer. With obsidian antlers & a silver coat."

Perhaps they would've been comforted by it - by the proclamations of peace & justice, this new ruler of Gaea being perfect in almost every sense of the word ( as perfect as a fae can get, that it, but let us leave semantics to the side for now ). Or, perhaps, it would've changed nothing. It would, in the end, change no one. The fae will remain the fae, the world will remain as sweet & rotten as it had been since it's inception. Nothing changes, while everything changes - a great paradox of life. "Yes, but unfortunately we do not live in a utopia. It is unreachable to us - always has been & forever shall be. Not everyone has the same idea of it, anyway. Which is ideal to you, may be laughable to someone else. What is ideal to them, maybe be barbaric to us. That is why it will never exist." Moira retorted.

the fae were blind.

"I fear what you are say is already in motion. It won't be too long before old wounds open up again. A scar that never truly heals, the soft tissue that opens up far too easily. Our kin is inherently volatile, Sister. A handful of benevolent High lieges will not change that. For who will their successors be? Perhaps they'll be the worst of us, yet. Perhaps the benevolence will continue. But, I fear it may not be in the cards for us - a peaceful future, a gentle eternity."

"I  do  hold  her  in  extraordinarily  high  value,  in  all  candor,  higher  than  I  held  the  departed  king,"  it's  not  often  that  Clarabel  would  go  out  of  her  way  to  say  anything  negative  about  anyone  --  let  alone  the  dead.  But  this  was  the  truth  and  it  was  a  time  to  lean  on  her  sisters  about  the  reality  of  their  situation,  about  what  they  felt  and  how  to  proceed.  Maybe  it  was  the  Mother  who  was  guiding  them  towards  unity,  all  of  them  together  under  one  Court.  Was  the  point  for  them  all  to  have  peace?  There  had  to  be  a  reason  for  this  all  and  only  through  conversation  --  openness  --  would  Clarabel  find  clarity.  Whether  that  was  with  herself,  her  sisters,  the  temple,  the  Mother  &  the  Cauldron  or  the  people  she  served.  "I  never  doubt  the  Mother,  not  truly,  but  I  do  wonder  if  Gaeaen  magic  is  not  of  her  capacity.  The  Mother  is  said  to  have  made  us  and  Prythian,  however,  there  has  been  a  lot  said  that  has  not  been  what  has  ACTUALLY  been."  Which  begged  the  question  --  who  or  what  would  Clara  pray  to  if  it  all  fell  down?  If  the  Mother,  who  was  an  entity  like  the  Dark  Mother,  was  cast  away  too?

A  smile,  comforted  by  the  words  and  ones  that  echoed  her  previous  sentiments,  cast  in  Moira's  direction.  She  was  right  --  Clarabel  believed  in  the  magic  the  absolute  most.  The  magic  that  had  ravaged  her  childhood,  untamed  and  wild.  The  magic  that  had  caused  strife  in  her  household,  that  brought  her  to  where  she  currently  was.  It  simply  was  --  no  matter  how  much  vilification  had  come  from  her  parents,  how  much  they  had  punished  her  for  being  who  she  was,  uncontrolled  for  so  long.  Magic  was  always  fair  where  people  were  often  not.  "Mmm,  you're  right.  The  way  in  which  you're  right  about  this  particular  matter  was  something  I  NEEDED  to  hear  more  than  I  think  I  knew  until  now.  How  grateful  I  am  that  you  said  it,  really."  Though,  could  it  be  possible  that  the  very  magic  that  brought  them  here  uncontrollably  could  be  above  the  Mother  or  the  Cauldron,  be  corrupted?

This  weighed  heavy  on  Clara  often,  though  faith  was  meant  to  be  tested  for  otherwise  it  would  not  be  real  faith.  Even  more  evident  by  the  next  words  that  Moira  shared.  "That...is  not  surprising.  I'm  no  strategist  and  while  I  would  much  rather  believe  that  this...convention  of  sorts  is  to  bring  us  together  as  Fae...there  is  the  OTHER  thought.  That  if  this  magic,  that  we  all  believe  in,  that  truly  unites  us  is  corrupted  in  any  form...that  this  would  be  a  purposeful  game  of  politics.  The  courts  just  came  together  to  enact  a  great  good  after  a  terrible  period,  is  there  not  a  possibility  for  a  rebound?  For  the  cauldron  to  tip  once  more?"

A  unique  pressure  that  Clarabel  felt  being  the  High  Priestess  of  Gaea  during  such  a  time  was  this  expectation  that  she  had  her  finger  of  the  pulse  of  this  magic.  Gods,  even  she  wished  she  did  --  not  for  the  power  it  would  wield  her  but  for  the  answers  it  would  give  her.  An  errand  thought  at  times,  the  idea  that  she  could  be  chosen  as  High  Ruler  was...TERRIFYING.  Though,  a  part  of  her  did  think  that  she  could  take  to  the  mantle.  However,  it  felt  at  times  as  if  she  was  already  failing  as  her  position  as  High  Priestess  of  Gaea  with  the  little  she  knew  or  could  do  in  the  last  year  to  change  or  prevent  the  events  that  occurred.  Another  drink  is  taken  then,  Clara  knows  that  should  she  dwell  on  all  of  this  --  emotionality  would  win  over.  That  was  not  something  she  knew  if  she  wanted  to  share  with  her  sister,  not  out  of  lack  of  trust  but  out  of  resenting  looking  weak  enough  already.  Another  old  wound  she  thought  had  healed  over,  exposed  once  more,  another  reason  for  her  to  listen  instead  of  talk.  To  glean  from  a  High  Priestess  who  had  been  in  this  position,  with  more  tenure,  more  knowledge.

Eye  contact  again  is  made,  some  of  this  feeling  is  betrayed  in  Clara's  eyes.  "I  think  we  as  Fae  have  seen  such  loud  instances  of  strife,  that  I  know  some  would  feel  more  comforted  by  even  louder  proclamations  of  comfort  and  justice  from  the  Mother.  One  of  my  acolytes  is  wise  beyond  her  years,  CONSTANTLY  reminding  me  that  from  our  temple  --  we  can  be  obtuse  to  some  of  the  real  issue  and  suffering  caused.  Magic  does  what  magic  does,  fae  will  as  well,  but  in  a  utopia  world  every  fae  would  have  a  home.  A  place.  Food  in  their  bellies.  That  is  not  the  case  for  our  Great  Courts  &  nation."  A  frown  then  and  another  drink.  "I  think  many  have  been  restless  for  many  a  reason  since  the  wars.  Wars  we  do  no  even  have  record  or  knowledge  of,  wars  that  are  INHERITED  as  much  as  fought.  The  events  of  the  last  year  as  much  revelation  as  they  are  –   also  a  resurrection  of  long  forgotten  gripes.  The  fae  need  the  obvious  when  the  pain  is  poignant.  If  we,  the  High  Rulers,  all  of  us  in  our  comfort  do  not  keep  sight  of  that  --  we  will  not  see  clearly."

[moiraangmar]

closed starter for @finn-angmar. night quarters in adriata.

MOIRA MAY HAVE BEEN THE HIGH PRIESTESS OF THE COURT OF NIGHT, BUT MORE OFTEN THAN NOT, SHE WAS FIRST & FOREMOST -- A MOTHER. It was the deity's providence that she had been in the company of her dearest sons in Summer - it made the wretched heat & the cursed daylight all the more tolerable. Not good, or pleasant. Tolerable. After the whole fiasco with the king - if he could still be remembered as such, rather than a boy who took a far too big a bite to chew on - she was happy her children were in her line of sight.

most of the times, that it.

Having already spend quality time with her eldest, the lady Angmar sought out her younger son for a long overdue chat. In the ruckus of everything happening, she'd spend odiously little time with her dearest boys. Pale eyes fixing upon the master of coin ( both of her boys holding high ranked positions within the inner circle made her both tremendously proud & slightly concerned over their wellbeing ), her lips pulled into a smile.

"My dearest." she spoke, sitting down on a black leather sofa the Summer court so graciously procured for the Night's suite. "Don't tell me you're still working? I'm sure the ledgers will survive if you take a break every now & then."

[moiraangmar]

PERHAPS SHE WASN'T RESENTFUL. If she was, wouldn't that make her a terrible Mother? Her children were blameless in lie of lack of knowledge - not education, no, but secrets - concealed. Even the Seers were blind to the majority of the changes around the king, simply because another divine influence interfered with the Mother's signal. False or not, the Dark Mother had been as close to a god as any of them could even dream of. "& do you consider that to be solely our fault, Sister? The lack of communication due to an interference from an equally - if not more - powerful outside source is hardly our burden to bear. With all the details concealed & obscured, how were we to fight? Enigma upon enigma upon enigma - it would've been a bloodbath had we reacted sooner."

it was already a suspicious kind of miracle no one died - well, except Kabir.

Still, Moira nodded at the latter. "Oh, I agree a ritual should be held. The solstice is the perfect opportunity to appease whatever... blame or disappointment she may harbor for us - even if it is in fragments. Wines, fruits, sweet pastries & roasts. Ritual incense & gems. Perhaps sea shells fished from the deep to truly show the... depth of our devotion to her." god or not, a fae still adored some posterior-kissing. everyone wished to be adored & fawned over.

well, almost everyone.

her frown deepens a fraction, a movement only perceptible to the sisters who shared the same path toward the mother. "i don't believe the mother is resentful of us." but brows furrow, and vijaya taps her finger against her teacup's handle. "disappointed may be a better fit, given how long it took for us to finally strike against the former king. until that weakened the dark mother . . . "

she sighed. pointless to recount the event they all witnessed, even in fragments. the battle done, the king fallen, and the dark mother perished. their celebration couldn't be contained to now simply living. "the longer i think of it, the more certain i am that a ceremony is worth undertaking. i've discussed this with some of the others, and the summer solstice provides an excellent opportunity. it'll be simple to add our preparations to what lavinia is working on. wouldn't that be assuage any lingering, dismal feelings toward us should they exist?"

[moiraangmar]

SHE WAS THE ELDER, THAT MUCH WAS CORRECT - BUT, SO LONG AS RESPECT WAS GIVEN IN THE WAY THE OTHER CONVERSED WITH HER, SHE DID NOT FIND FAULTS IN BEING CALLED BY HER MOTHER GIVEN NAME. Why else have a name, when the all could be called lady, lord or liege, followed by their family name. Perhaps their occupation, as well, to differentiate better between them. Of course, that was nothing more than a silly idea, but she did feel like that - those she had allowed to call her by her name, they were lucky. They were familial, rather than friendly. & the sweet Zarathin scholar could use a proper mother - someone who will respect & cherish the blond for being the witty, radiant fae she was. & - naturally - when Solara spoke of her as the elder, Moira's garnet painted lips curved upwards in a petite, barely noticeable smirk. She had been thoroughly amused by the younger fae - of course, she knew Sol was merely jesting. "Perhaps not, I am hardly the oldest living creature in Prythian. There is wisdom with old age - such monikers will never offend me." smoothing down the front of the robe as she sat down, the High Priestess of the court of Night tilted her head to the side, the petitie smirk turning into a fluttering smile.

how, indeed?

Well, she was feeling rather hot in her garments, but her steely nature, the iron encrusted mind & resolve never allowed her to falter from when she'd decided to prove a point. She had always felt the most comfortable in black - the color so alike the deep darkness of her native court. In her ancestral home in Cesere, all of the furniture was the rich ebony further coated with a layer of black paint. The curtains had been black, as well as the bedding & furnishing. Yes, there were specs of deep, dark red, as well as the deepest green one could only find in the darkest of places. Even the stone had seemed black, greyed & darkened with the tooth of time. What a dreary place - what perfection had it been to live there. Her home in Velaris is, naturally, not as black, but keeping the Angmar residence as a holiday home, Moira often retreated there to enjoy solitude in darkness & meditation. Her children sometimes followed - so did her husband. They have spent glorious summers & winters there, when the lights of Velaris turned too... vivid.

she lightly chuckled.

"Oh, it is rather hellish beneath the velvet cape, but at least the sun's scorching rays do not get to me. The dress beneath is of the richest, airy black gauze - it is cooler than one may believe, even if black is a heater in itself." yet, as the scholar of Spring spoke of the new fashions, Moira found herself considering how many of the styles she had truly tried without scrunching her nose or scowling at the mere thought of donning some of the... skimpy, transparent fabrics. Sure, the Summer court having such fabrics was certainly an understandable choice - the heat was enough to make her consider changing from the gauzy fabric she often sported ( or the brocade, velvet, silk & lace she sported in the cooler courts ) into something less... warm. Like viscose. But, it was far too airy for her - it wasn't her style. Still, she wouldn't mind meeting Solara's modiste. perhaps the fae will hit a bullseye on her style. "I'll never say no to a good modiste. I have left mine in Cesere, though I would never condemn her to come here & remain here just so I can have a new gown to wear. I do appreciate the flow of your dress - it compliments your figure to perfection. It rather shows the seamstress' skill." & she had meant it, as well.

oh, she did not doubt that.

If her siblings were anything like lady Solara herself, Moira was quite certain she would've liked them well enough. Nodding at the question, the High Priestess drummed the black painted nail against the wood of the desk they were seated at. "I do, two. They are some good years younger than me, but they are delightful. Sometime, they could be quite the little menaces, but in the recent years we've bonded more... adequately." once they've matured enough to not throw temper tantrums at every little advice she had ever given them. Now, they were close - not as thick as thieves, but closer than ever before. Yet, the warm gesture displayed by Solara had been heartwarming indeed - her children were not as physically affectionate, though they've displayed their love for their mother in more subtle ways.

her smile stretched as she returned the gesture.

Should anything ever happen to the Zarathin parents, the young fae ( & by extension her siblings, of course ) will have a place in her household, without batting an eye. Still, at the mention of the Mother, Moira wasn't entirely sure what she'd say. Did she think the deity had planned to bring them here? Perhaps. Perhaps little Poppy's sacrifice had been divinely orchestrated - it wouldn't have been unheard of, in their long, long history with their creator. & yet, despite this battle being fought & won, the High Priestess of the court of Night was not entirely convinced it was all over. The battle may have been won... but this was hardly a war. & where there it battle... there is war. Still, Moira lightly hummed at Solara's question. "She had undoubtedly known. Yet, we are still in the dark about the barrier & why it keeps us herded here." she did not doubt there will be a grand revelation about it soon enough, but... she wondered how horrifying it may be.

& where it may take them, next.

"I have, yes." Moira nodded. The imbalance of magic, plus the dead monarch equals an empty seat of power. Now, she had heard that Gaea will be another High seat, rather than monarchy, but still. Such a large shift of power will change something. All that royal residue will have to go somewhere. She was no supporter of kings or queens, but... it will be an interesting shift. "There are rumors about the next Liege, though I cannot say I'm well informed of their identity. There are other things that concern me. The seat of power should have an equal amount of it fed back into it... this change from royalty to liegedom may prove to be tricky at best." downright destructive, at worst.

being raised as the scholar of spring has, it was all the more reason she never quite felt as she properly fit in most places. she was raised to be a proper, well-mannered lady, and trained to mingle with all fae, especially those in high circles, it did not mean it was any more comfortable for her. she played the part well as taught from the moment she could walk and speak, but inside it was a far greater chore. her library was her safe space, no needing to behave in a prim, proper manner, or smiling until her cheeks hurt to strangers she did not know. she has no aversion to socializing, solara had met lovely individuals and those meetings eventually led to unexpected bonds, and one of which she cherishes so thoroughly was with this night court high priestess. the difference was her interactions with them felt far more sincere than those in passing for propriety. she had hesitated in initiating a conversation with moira, after the few times they had accidentally occupied the same spaces alone, it seems as if this high priestess simply would not care for idle chit chat, particularly not with a younger fae. she was still a stubborn zarathin at her core and it did not cease her attempts, for all the intimidation moira possessed, she had an equally warmer demeanor - or perhaps solara was the lucky few to be blessed with that side of the priestess. this night fae was a mother, this solara had learned, a mother of two and they were indeed very lucky children to have a mother like her.

"if you'd like, moira." testing the other's name in a gentle roll. azure hues meeting the other's striking hazel ones. "although it will never not be strange, not because i consider you a stranger or any such thing, but because you are my elder." this rang through to every one she respected and admired. the dissolution of formalities between them certainly pleased the scholar. she hadn't meant to reveal tid bits of her parents, of her cold mother, and demanding mother but it just went to show how comfortable solara was to share something she never shares with another of her upbringing. in truth, it wasn't comfort she sought from moira or another, nor did she want pity, but it certainly meant a lot to her that the high priestess merely listened, thought there moments where solara would catch rather devious thoughts running through the elder fae's mind that she was certain were various ways of to place curses. it was amusing, but more than that, it was deeply touching. "not that i am referring to you as old." she amends as swiftly, but certain the other would know she meant no insult.

the statement of her robes had a laugh befall from her lips, watching as the matriarch settled into a seat beside the scholar. "always the latter for you, and i refuse any else concerning you." she teases in return, "i am curious, how are you not sweltering in that regardless?" this was a genuine question as it was concern as her golden brows rise with keen interest. "amongst the gowns of ladies, you certainly do stand out." the other's tall, looming stature also played a role in this. if the blonde could pull off such elegant robes, she may also never also wish to remove them as well no matter the weather. it was amusing to think she'd nearly give her sisters a fright were she to adopt such a fashion. she beamed at her friend upon hearing the compliment, but it was the highest she could gain from moira. "i am pleased you think so, it's been rather fun trying out different fashions from each court we are being tossed to. i could take you to her if you'd like?"

"i suppose my parents did one good thing - bring my sisters and i closer. you'd like them, you know." sol thinks of reila's determined protectiveness, eirena's fierceness, and tyanna's sweetness. the blonde wasn't certain what shares in common with her beloved sisters outside of the love they have for one another, she was certainly the odder one of the four. "do you have siblings?" the book that was laid atop the table was one she had intended to share with moira, some interesting tid bits of summer court she had been gathering.

the relief is evident in her features knowing another fae she cares for is well, "always a delight to hear you're well." she reaches out, squeezing the other's hand that rested on top of the table. "it's also a relief that the mother has reached out to you all. i always thought she had a hand in returning us to prythian, and with everything that's occurred, she perhaps had this plan in mind all along. as if she knew that returning here would be the key to ending this once and for all?" she nods, "i am, thanks to our high lieges. i did not take the burden of all this, but like you i too, worry of what's to come after this. our realm has seen much since it's creation, but this sort of imbalance is unheard of? perhaps the fates believed we became too comfortable? i worry more of the gaean fae - the sort of unrest that's likely present in the capital. you've heard the rumors?"

[moiraangmar]

YES, THEY OUGHT TO GIVE THEIR MESSAGES WITH AN HONEST TONGUE & A BLIND EYE. Blind to the desires of the Fae, perhaps even blind to the justice, should it be broken again. They were nothing more than Mouths of Mothers, powerful, prettily painted lips that ought not to have an agenda - or a conscious. Why else would their veils obstruct their eyes? So that they could not see the outcome of their Mother's message, so that they would not see how those messages affected the Faekin.

they ought to be both puppets & puppeteers - as some of her ancient Sisters had been.

When Mother had been silent for near a century - a time that had been near two millennia ago - many of the Sisters from that time took divine message to their own hands. It took Mother's wrath to right the wrongs they've willingly bestowed upon their own kin. "Naturally, the Gifted will sense things in advance - that is why they are gifted. But, do not falter, Sister. We are Priestesses. We are her Mouth. She may use the Seers for her Eyes, but without a message spoke to us, those having the Sight won't be too successful in deciphering the message. We will be there to guide. We will be there to help rebuild. That is our sacred duty, after all." Moira took her vows seriously - she was a pillar of Mother's faith - her own complicated relationship with the deity had been a natural connection between the child & their Mother ; there were squabbles & petty resentments... but when she was needed, she was relied upon.

who  could  love  another  with  such  ferocity  ?  meera  believes  herself  to  be  capable  of  it  ,  but  not  yet  has  the  situation  arisen  .  where  such  obsession  bears  itself  raw  ,  and  where  she  might  hope  to  have  the  world  in  her  hand  for  the  sake  of  a  child  .  no  ,  she  would  never  engage  in  such  a  thing  .  but  to  do  it  for  love  .  to  do  it  for  something  which  was  made  and  coveted  —  blasphemous  or  not  ,  it  resonates  somewhere  else  .  as  if  the  tendons  stretch  and  pluck  against  those  that  are  unseen  .  “  i  shan't  hold  my  breath  for  the  next  of  our  visions  which  accost  us  .  if  they  come  and  they  show  us  …  the  creation  ,  the  terrors  of  it  ,  then  i  will  wish  desperately  to  not  have  seen  it  .  for  we  will  be  expected  to  do  what  must  be  done  ,  and  speak  on  our  visions  in  a  way  that  doesn't  manipulate  them  .  ”  and  yet  the  truth  source  might  be  all  the  more  terrifying  .  at  least  for  now  ,  she  finds  some  comfort  in  moira's  acknowledgement  that  these  things  will  return  ,  even  if  in  the  end  she  might  revolt  against  experiencing  them  and  wish  them  to  find  another's  head  .  “  or  the  seers  might  be  cursed  to  see  what  comes  ,  and  we  to  drown  beneath  what's  already  been  done  ,  ” muses  she  .  the  magic  has  been  off  -  balance  ,  and  although  it's  now  more  restored  than  before  ,  there  was  no  telling  what  other  consequences  might  arise  .

[moiraangmar]

MOIRA WAS PLEASED BY THE SEER. Perhaps she had seen something, or perhaps she was just as cautious as the High Priestess, but it was a wise idea to seek for weapons. If the other Courts did not already come to the same conclusion, they undoubtedly will in no time. "That is a wise idea, yes. Dusk had their dragons, Summer this trident. Who is to say we don't have a Moon scepter or a javelin. But, it is only natural to consider the others to have it, as well."

otherwise, Summer would've been a favored court & none would quite like that.

"Who can tell." Moira sighed, taking a sip of the wine. "If this is an isolated case, then it's an unfair one. Why Summer? Why not us, or Dawn? Or any other court. While having so many magical artefacts could be potentially very dangerous, then for Summer to be the only one to have them would be deadly."

surprise flickers across her face before a small smile graces her features. "that would be incredibly helpful. thank you, thank you. i really do appreciate it." and yet --- hesitation soon colors her face again. biting the inside of her lip, she breathes deeply, trying to ground herself. "it . . . may be prudent to ask for any records with mention of a weapon, or something hidden." she tugs harder at her index finger. "not that i truly believe there will be a need for a weapon, but . . . i imagine other courts will be searching within their walls for a trident of their own."

another breath. another shaky exhale. "i hope the mother wouldn't bless so many weapons with such power. not anymore."

[moiraangmar]

& WHAT A TEACHER SHE HAD BEEN. To survive the Court of Night - to call it home, on had to become the dark. The dark & everything others had perceived it to be - resilient, swift, deadly, soothing. A singular blackness had many faces, all veiled in shadows, all solemn & wise. A Priestess of Many faces, but the owner of None. A dark canvas upon which the fate draws it's gilded lines. "& how proud that makes me." Moira smiled to her son, reaching forward to smooth a particularly unruly strand of his hair.

only her family saw the One face a Priestess a could hold for her own - motherly affection.

Moira lightly snickered at her son's words. Truly, the boy was more stubborn than the will of the Cauldron, tipping over to create Feakind. However, there was truth to Yozora's words - it was ridiculous to munch on flavoured ice, but alas... she will surrender to any silly custom of the Summer court that will keep her cool & not mere inches from a sunstroke. It was both surprising & hilarious that the fae could succumb to it. "I would argue it is the most agreeable thing in this blasted court. Truly, Mother's vision remains baffling - why in the name of Prythian did she think making this furnace of a Court would be a swell idea? Perhaps she's giving us all a free trial of the fires of Hell we shall, undoubtedly, found ourselves roasting in once the hour of our Death passes." oh, she's definitely not going to the serene place.

Yozora didn’t answer at first. He just looked at her with that unreadable stillness he so often wore like a second skin. The way shadows clung to corners of quiet temples. The way dusk settled in after prayers. But his mother had always been one of the few who could see through that stillness.

A slow breath passed his lips, as if he were trying to release something he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. Then, without looking away, the edge of his mouth pulled into a faint smile, wry and bone-deep.

“You forget,” he said, voice low, calm, “you were my first teacher in the art of manipulation.” His fingers flexed slightly over the cover of the notebook in his lap, his words not cruel, not biting, just... true. “I think I recognized your tricks before I could name them. So no, you’re not transparent. I’m just fluent.”

His gaze drifted upward toward the temple’s open window, where sunlight filtered through like molten gold, warm and indifferent. Then back to her.

“Well, if it’s capable of humbling the Mother herself, I suppose it’s worth a try.” He stood, smoothing the front of his robes with almost ceremonial precision.“Besides… it’s harder to sulk when you’re eating something cold and ridiculous.”

[moiraangmar]

SHE HAD NOT MET COMMANDER AKASHA, BUT IF HER SISTER HOLDS HER IN HIGH VALUE, THEN MOIRA SHALL CONSIDER EXTENDING IT. She had not met many Gaeans to contend with in the first place - had she even spoken to one of them, that was not her Holy Sister? She truly could not say - & she had cared very little to ponder over it further. "If you hold her to such a great value, then I do not doubt the commander to be worthy of the position. Perhaps the Mother will hear your suggestion & heed it." Yet, surprise quirked her eyebrow upwards & she observed Clarabel with a hint of amusement sparking up her pale, hazel eyes. A vote? How interesting.

truly, the Courts all had their own desires for it.

"Oh, I am inclined to agree with you, Sister. Perhaps a vote could be the most... fair way of electing the Gaean liege. But, where there is freedom of choice, there is also manipulation & hunger. In the long run, I do not think an election to be the wisest thing to happen to Gaea. Fairness is so seldom found within politics. Perhaps the true neutrality, true fairness lies in magic. You cannot bribe magic. You cannot threaten or promise it great riches if it chooses your candidate. You cannot barter with it, cannot conveniently make it disappear. & there is sanctity in there." Moira spoke with a soft hum upon her lips. Indeed, the fae can me bribed - magic cannot. However, she did hear a thing or two about the Courts & their opinions of Gaea -

& it's next move. "I will not lie to you, Sister. The Courts are weary & on edge. They do not know why it's taking magic so long to pick & choose. They will begin to turn their own ambitions to it, soon. It is nothing definite I've heard - but, I do know how their minds work. Their desires may be in accumulating more power - if they are already extant Lieges. Or, if they are lesser & tired to servitude to the leisurely High Lieges, they may choose to take it for themselves." it could yet be a bloodbath.

that has to do.

But, will it be enough? She doubts it. She does not think ill of the faekin - but, she does not trust them too greatly, either. They are yet to prove her wrong in any instance. So, she merely shrugged, not willing to further sour the mood with her glum opinion - or her more... solemn thoughts. "That is the correct way of seeing her, Sister. She is in everything. In grain of salt, a drop of the ocean, a cry of a gull. Finding reason & her message in those things is certainly not a wrong way to seek connection with her. In fact, who is to say she doesn't speak to us in such manner? Perhaps she had turned to using her voice as a last resort, upon witnessing us remaining blind to Her subtleties. & why should gods be anything but subtle? Why must they be loud for us to hear them?" she retorted.

"Well,  there  is  the  Commander  Akasha.  I  believe  she  would  give  her  life  for  our  people  and  well,  she  is  a  good  friend."  Which  was  all  true  --  though  she  knew  that  political  and  personal  trust  were  two  entirely  different  things.  The  High  Priestess  also  knew  that  Akasha  would  most  likely  not  want  her  to  reveal  much  about  her  to  someone  she  did  not  know.

"But  ...I  believe  it  should  be  a  vote.  I  BELIEVE  in  Gaean  magic,  please  do  not  take  this  as  anything  more  than  my  own  wants  for  what  I'd  like  to  see  for  our  throne.  The  other  courts...they  do  things  differently  than  we.  Some  don't  even  believe  in  a  throne.  I'm  sure  this  is  not  new  to  you?"   It  was  an  inquiry,  an  offer  for  Moira  to  share  her  knowledge  on  the  Courts  and  days  that  Clarabel  had  not  lived.  What  did  Clarabel  believe  besides  this?  Had  she  pondered  about  it  more  than  been  frenzied?  It  dawns  on  her  then,  she  MAY  need  to  find  someone  to  talk  to  about  this  very  thing  --  someone  trusted  to  bounce  thoughts  off  of.  It  was  not  that  she  didn't  trust  Moria,  there  was  a  pressure  she  felt  around  the  High  Priestesses  of  these  other  courts  as  well  as  a  knowledge  that  though  they  were  the  same  role  --  overfamiliarity  was  only  warranted  if  they  were  truly  familiar.  That  needed  to  be  reserved  to  people  much  closer  to  her  heart  than  her  spirit. 

A  sister  in  spirit  was  different  than  one  that  occupied  the  chambers  of  the  heart. 

A  look  shot  over  in  the  older  High  Priestesses  direction  at  the  phrasing  that  her  court  was  to  be  BLESSED.  If  blessings  were  their  currency,  Gaea  may  almost  be  broke.  At  the  tip  of  Clarabel's  tongue  lay  a  pointed  comment  though  the  sarcasm  at  Moira  would  be  unearned  as  it  was  her  being  as  sympathetic  as  she  was  facetious.  Though,  from  this  ruin  Clarabel  had  hoped  that  maybe  the  Mother  would  pick  her  to  give  some  sort  of  message  to.  It  wasn't  often  that  Clara  expected  or  felt  entitled  to  a  message  from  their  Mother  but  after  the  events  that  had  rattled  them  all  to  their  very  cores?  Uprooted  the  lineage,  changed  the  course  of  history,  revealed  to  them  all  that  not  only  was  there  so  much  they  did  not  know  but  so  much  that  was  kept  from  them.

"I'm  on  what  I've  heard  some  of  these  other  courts  say  as  on  a  'need  to  know'  basis  as  well.  It  makes  as  anxious  as  I've  been  in  years,  soil  and  stone.  I've  taken  to  praying  more  than  usual,  taking  more  in  for  council  as  I  find  I  understand  and  see  myself  through  others  just  as  much  as  the  Mother.  I  find  that  I  see  her  in  EVERYONE,  as  if  she  is  giving  messages  through  them  too.  Taking  insights  from  those  crestfallen  or  bewildered  at  times  feels  selfish  but  all  of  us  are  fae.  All  of  us  are  Prythian.  That  has  to  do."

[moiraangmar]

UNLIKE THE DAY SISTER SHE HAD BEEN IN COMPANY WITH, MOIRA MUCH PREFERRED THE RUM TO TEA. Observing as the other frowned at her cup, the High Priestess of Night suppressed a smirk that began to bloom on her lips. She had tried the same method once, though found that speaking through cards was a more... viable method. Whether or not it was the Mother speaking or her own intuition, she couldn't say.

she did not care which was which, anyway - intuition was a Mother give gift after all.

Moira hummed at the Day sister's words, though there was a hint of amusement dancing in the depths of her pale eyes. "Why should we speak to her so soon? If the woman needs her year long nap, let her have it. I'd be pretty cranky if my kids woke me up after a particularly nasty ritual, if I was her." though, perhaps, an offering could work. "However - you are not in the wrong. We should offer something for her. Refreshments. Incense sticks & bottles of spiked rum. Bars of chocolate, to sweeten any... resentment she may hold over us."

the sun's rays peek through gray clouds, as if the mother herself wishes to praise VIJAYA for her gathering upon the BALCONY of the building beside the temple. // fellow high priestesses ( potential for group thread )

the day's high priestess drains her cup, relishing in the bitterness of her tea's brew. out of habit, she peers at the leaves at the bottom, trying to determine what message she could interpret from how they rest. but the mother has rarely spoken to her through such methods. for one breath, then another, she blinks at the leaves. if a frown paints her face when she sets the cup down, then it's only because she quickly gave up deciphering.

"we should dedicate a special ceremony to the mother." an abrupt mention, but she tires of small talk when among her fellow sisters. "it could --- no, it should --- be helpful in her recovery. something more than just our average services. perhaps if it's a joint effort among us, among all the courts themselves, she will return to speak with us."

[moiraangmar]

MOIRA WAS PROVING TO BE A LOT MORE SOCIAL THEN ONE WOULD GIVE HER CREDIT FOR. Of course, it was her Sisters she had enjoyed spending her time with - in such uncertain times, the High Priestesses should all stick together. It would help to avoid any... miscommunication from happening, should one of them get another message from the Mother ( though she did not see such a thing happening for the foreseeable future, as the Mother had seemed utterly spent in her battle with the Dark Mother & Kabir ). & today, her time was spent in the presence of Autumn court's young Priestess.

traipsing about the market seemed to be the norm.

"I don't see why should it give a wrong idea. It is sold in their market. Unless they have a sign that say Only wear this in Summer court or Only purchase if Summer fae, I don't see a valid reason as to why you couldn't sport it in Autumn. It would look radiant on you. A charming reminder of the time spent in Adriata. Though, if you have any worries about it, perhaps it would be best if your ask dear Lavinia - she may be of greater assistance in this matter. I simply buy things I like & wear them if they suit me." Moira was simple in that matter - she always did what she had wanted to do & cared absolutely nothing about what others chitter-chattered about her behind her back. Or to her face. She'd sneer at them anyway.

"I've gotten a sea-shell necklace. A pretty carcass of the poor creature encrusted in rose gold. The things we ruin for our own aesthetic." she chuckled.

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 ⎯ @moiraangmar , @ethercvl , @sacerdotem , @crxssdhearts

summer heat is not ideal, as autumnal fae who's home is a perfect balanced, climate of warmth and chill, this has been an adjustment. the methods of cooling down limited to the waters, and as much as the high priestess could compliment the scenic view, she was nor a summer nor a mermaid to enjoy sitting in water all day. nonetheless, a high priestess seldom complains, for zehra it's more pride than anything else. she has even opted for the robes that were suited for this climate, it certainly helped that high priestess of summer was a mentor and friend, and all the more willing to share her seamstress to design some for her. zehra has not heard from her mother since the high rulers placed an end to the king, but in truth, nor was she eagerly waiting either. their deity appeared most entirely on whim, and in the meantime, she's certainly left her priestesses ones with plenty to work through. the high priestess of autumn likes to believe, both can be done, she may enjoy herself and work along with the other priestess as well. it was no different this afternoon as she's strolling through a market in adriata, zehra, as always was a lover of all pretty trinkets, and summer, as dusk also had, would surely have unique babbles to collected. the trip certainly began strong, as she lifted a unique looking pendant. "a mermaid pendant...would this give the wrong idea if worn elsewhere?" she inquires to her companion.

[moiraangmar]

THE MOTHER HAD BEEN EERILY SILENT ON THIS MATTER - she agreed with that. But, whether it was due to attachment or love, or perhaps an agenda of her own, Moira could not vouch for certain. She did not think the Mother capable of having such emotions to begin with - deities felt differently from the faekin, they processed things differently, thought of the differently. Who is to say the Mother feels love in the same sense the fae do? But, she was being a little too nihilistic, a little too blasphemous for a High Priestess. Yet, she speaks: "I could be those things or it could be something else. Anger is the clearest emotion in a deity's heart - anger & vengeance. Perhaps she had loved her Made daughter enough to give her a head start before us, or perhaps we cannot grasp at the Mother's emotions. A God feels differently form an immortal, just as we feel differently from humans inhabiting the space outside the Great Barrier."

everything turns in the end.

Moira had agreed with that. She agreed with all of it - perhaps Gaea will truly cease to exist. The Fae were not the most trusting ( or trustful ) of species inhabiting Prythian & the known world. They will not believe a radnom fae claiming to be handpicked by Fate to be the next king or liege. & they will believe even less if it proves to be one of the current High Lieges or members of their courts' inner circles. & perhaps in that picking there will be another war waiting for the fae. But, should they wage one so soon... it will only prove how rotten they all truly are in their core.

"There will be signs, Sister. There are always sign that foretell the coming of power - whoever may wield it shall perceive it - perhaps with Mother's grace, we shall sense it, too. The next in line will need someone to vouch for their claim. I don't think out dear kinsmen will be quick to trust our Gaean sister, but they may trust another one of us. If our Mother truly wishes us well, she may have to contact us with visions & words."

meera  cannot  imagine  being  in  such  a  deified  position  ,  leaving  followers  riddled  with  doubt  .  it  does  little  to  assuage  her  .  she  finds  that  she  looks  for  a  long  time  into  the  wine  glass  ,  as  though  that  might  have  the  answers  ,  but  nothing  floats  in  there  ,  not  even  motes  of  dust  .  it  contains  the  crystal  -  clear  quality  she  has  been  searching  for  ,  alongside  the  other  priestesses  of  course  ,  from  their  mother  .  “  our  mother  has  never  been  forthright  in  her  answers  ,  and  forced  our  spirits  to  connect  to  her  to  surmise  what  our  visions  and  her  whispers  mean  .  but  still  ,  on  this  ,  she  was  more  silent  than  usual  .  it  couldn't  be  …  attachment  .  love  .  ”  the  working  knowledge  that  their  mother  had  created  the  dark  mother  from  the  cauldron  sticks  to  her  so  . “  it's  beyond  me  to  imagine  .  but  what  i  do  know  is  this  :  even  a  worm  will  turn  in  the  end  .  ”  in  his  perceived  end  ,  kabir  saw  no  other  choice  but  to  shift  in  the  dirt  .  and  even  gentle  spirits  could  turn  hostile  and  caustic  within  moments  .  meera  knows  this  from  firsthand  experience  .  she  pushes  off  the  immediate  thoughts  of  when  she  first  entered  the  veil  ,  when  she  glanced  behind  to  see  her  own  two  mothers  not  looking  her  in  the  eye  ,  for  she  had  been  forever  changed  .  such  separation  can  never  benefit  a  young  fae  ,  and  still  they  chose  for  her  .  “  if  anyone  steps  forwards  with  any  claims  the  magic  chose  them  ,  i'll  be  sore  to  see  the  ringer  they're  put  through  .  if  they're  even  believed  .  ”  even  if  one  of  the  high  lieges  did  so  ,  meera  could  not  foresee  that  going  over  well  .  more  than  likely  ,  it  would  simply  be  viewed  as  a  strike  of  power  .

[moiraangmar]

MOTHERS ALWAYS WORRIED OVER THEIR CHILDREN - sometimes, they conveyed that concern in a more open way, outwardly asking questions such what is wrong & are you alright, & sometimes ( though in her case it had been most of the times ) they worried in a more inconspicuous, daily manner -- have you eaten, have you seen the night market, have you been exploring? It was only normal she watched over him like a hawk. It was an Angmar trait to hole oneself in a dark room & not emerge until the world felt a little less suffocating.

she understood that.

Moira nodded at his words, but as he continued speaking ( more accurately as he had guessed her sly ways ), corners of her mouth quirked up into a smile. "Am I that transparent or do you simply know your mother's tricks too well?" the High Priestess asked, amusement & affection evident in the softness of her voice & the warmth of her gaze as she looked at her son. "So, will you indulge me? They have the most amusing trinkets in their market & many refreshing drinks. I would not recommend food, unless you wish for more greasy fish. Though I'm told they have iced sherbets & ice creams to bring the very Mother down to her knees with delight." she'd doubted that, but it wouldn't hurt to try an icy little treat.

it's been hellishly hot, anyway.

She was trying to breathe light into him again. Gently, persistently. To coax him out from the shadows he’d grown so accustomed to, shadows that clung to the walls of his study and the hollows beneath his eyes. She wanted him to step away from the parchment, the ink, the sleepless nights spent buried in strategy and doubt. He told himself it was all for the sake of proving his worth. To the court. To the whispers. To himself.

They said he’d only earned his position through lineage, through the grace of a powerful mother rather than his own merit. Perhaps there was truth in that. The kind of truth that gnawed at his insides.

"I prefer the cool quiet of my chambers,” he replied, voice low. “I find comfort in the stillness of the Summer Court’s shade.” His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. “I’ve gone out once or twice... for fish, mostly. But never far. Not really.” He’d watched the night market from a distance before. Its lanterns casting gold across the sea breeze. The laughter, the applause... it always felt like a world just slightly out of reach. Then he looked at her, and for the first time in what felt like days, something close to warmth tugged at his mouth.

"You want me to go out," he said, more realization than accusation. His smile was slow, reluctant, but real. “Is this your way of asking me to walk Adriata beside you?”

[moiraangmar]

MOIRA SO VERY OFTEN WAS CORRECT. It was the innate sense of perception &, well, prediction - once the fae hit past their four century mark, they'd usual find out how predictable their own kin was. While Moira was certainly not the oldest living fae on the continent ( there were a few older than her ), she was old enough to be unsurprised by everything that had transpired around her.

indeed, time revealed it all - schemes, ploys, plots & desires.

She had wondered how many fae outside of Gaea had desired for its seat? It no longer had to be a throne, but for a High liege of any court to hold power over two courts in their hands... now that had been a thing most deadly. Did the High lady Nesrin with for it? The High lords of Dusk, Dawn or Day? The Seasonal Lieges? She couldn't say - perhaps some of them did, perhaps some of them did not - or perhaps all of them secretly plotted for it.

oh, now that was an interesting piece of information.

She quite wondered who did her sister have in mind to inherit the seat of Gaea, now that the Goldcoves had fallen into ruin & extinction. In a way, it was sad - a complete fall of a family, annihilation of a bloodline due to negligence & malevolence. So pointless, so pathetic - yet, like all ruined things, so beautiful in their tragedy. "Pray tell, sister, who is to you are considering for the seat of Gaea? I am not as well acquainted with your court as I'd like to be. But, I do value your opinion. I don't doubt they would make a great liege." monarchy is all but gone - the other High lieges would never succumb to another king now.

the Mother dropped out of conversation as soon as she got that one, half-assed, cryptic word in.

"She did not, I'm afraid. Just the same cryptic bull she gave to us all. Did you hear any more from her? After all, your court is to be blessed."

“Perhaps…  you’re  correct.”  Drink  up  the  younger  priestess  did  —  a  hefty  gulp  passed  down  her  throat  easily  and  as  it  made  it's  way  through  the  rest  of  her  body,  she  found  herself  relaxing.  She  could  trust  Moira  at  the  most  basic  level  (  right?  )  there  was  a  bond  between  sisters  that  they  shared  not  alike  anything  else  with  anyone  else.  There  was  already  an  ache  developing  in  Clara,  the  idea  that  these  times  may  be  the  only  times  in  which  the  High  Priestesses  could  be  so  close  to  each  other  –  like  a  coven,  as  the  mortals  would  probably  say. 

Clarabel  letting  lose  in  this  way  was  more  due  to  the  feeling  of  comfort  in  the  others  presence  than  one  of  worry.  To  be  in  such  control,  an  iron  grip  so  tight  and  lips  even  more  so  was  EXHAUSTING  for  someone  who  had  to  practice  such  discretion.  It  had  always  been  against  her  forthcoming  nature,  to  hold  the  sacred  truths  amongst  other  things  so  close  to  her  chest  as  these  secrets  that  could  topple  kingdoms  if  told.  It  was  a  practice  to  do  so,  just  like  her  prayer,  just  like  her  ceremony. 

So,  she  could  relax  now.  Right?

Even  if  just  for  this  very  moment,  even  if  just  for  an  hour  of  this  very  Summer  night.  Even  if  the  consequences  could  be  felt  tomorrow  &  beyond.

For  now  the  worst  part  of  staying  tight  lipped  about  this  particular  matter  was  over  —  the  anticipation  of  what  felt  like  a  betrayal  to  Gaea  (  but  a  noble  deed  for  Prythian  )  gave  way  to  the  after  shocks  felt  around  this  court.  What  were  they  there  for?  “It  does  bring  me  comfort  that  all  will  be  revealed  in  time.  That  we  will  figure  out  our  next  moves  both  intuitively  and  cerebrally.  ”  This  was  the  aftermath,  the  leveling  of  the  playing  field  before  the  new  teams  took  position.  “However,"  a  long  sigh  and  another  gulp.  "I  can  count  on  one  hand  who  I’d  trust  with  the  Gaean  throne  at  this  very  moment  and  I’m  not  sure  that’s  a  burden  they’d  want  to  bare.”  Translation:  Clarabel  wasn't  sure  who  she  could  trust  during  such  volatile  times,  as  much  as  she  wanted  to  be.  “Has  the  Mother  given  you  any  insights?”

[moiraangmar]

CLOSED for --- @sacerdotem , clarabel.

ONE OF THE PERKS OF BEING STUCK IN SUMMER COURT WITH ALL THE OTHER FAE WAS THE FACT THAT SHE GOT TO SPEND MORE TIME WITH HER... sisters. It was so difficult to communicate with other Priestess when everyone was back in their respective courts, though perhaps that was how it was meant to be - at least in the past. Right now, though, Moira was quite pleased with the opportunity to mingle among her kin, those blessed & sanctified by the Mother who shared the same burden.

the glory of being the medium.

Pouring a drink for her Sister holding down fort in the most derelict court, Moira found the other's position to be rather challenging. She doubted anyone envied the Gaean High Priestess. In fact, she'd wondered if the courts sneered down on her - or if the sacred position gave her immunity over such squabbles.

"Drink up, dear Clara. You look like you need it - we all look like we need it." a drink in such trying times was a crutch most desirable. "You would think we'd get some respite after the battle had been ended & won in our favor, but I guess our Mother has other plans to bestow upon us, still - I don't see why else we'd be stuck in Summer."

[moiraangmar]

SHE CAN'T REALLY SAY SHE WAS IN THE KNOW OF WHAT THE DUSKIAN FAE WILL CHOOSE - maybe they'll turn atheistic now that their deity had been stripped off her power & cast into the prison. Maybe they'll switch to Prythian Mother, clinging for solace & comfort & acceptance. "Perhaps. Though I cannot presume to know what they'll choose. Religion is vastly subjective, they may wish to join, they may wish to remain on their own without a god to shield them." she shrugged.

she would've turned godless, if she was in their shoes.

"She will. She wouldn't have helped against the Made Mother, nor she would've made sure all of us are so... safe in the aftermath. If she had no intention of shielding Dusk, they would've already been sacrificed." the Mother was a benevolent, loving deity -- or so she wished for Prythian to believe in.

"Why else do you think we're all still trapped in here? So we can all get a taste of what unity truly means." Moira doubted that had been the only reason, but it wouldn't surprise her if it had been part of it.

╰ ♡ closed starter for @moiraangmar

╰   ♡   ❝   do   you   think   that   dusk   would   convert   to   the   mother   now   that   theirs   is   indisposed?   ❞   taylan   had   never   truly   been   much   of   a   spiritual   fae   when   it   came   to   the   mother.   but   from   her   understanding   the   dusk   fae   had   had   a   very   different   relationship   with   their   deity.   technically   in   that   very   moment   they   didn't   have   a   deity   to   turn   to.   ❝   would   the   mother   accept   them?   ❞