#lady ithell

[the-bed-gremlins-reading-list]

My Marriage to the Cursed Royal

Demo: Twine on Itch.io Last Update: 9/6/2024

Rating: 18+

Synopsis

When you meet with an unfortunate accident in the real world you find yourself cast into the role of the younger Medulloi sibling. Your elder brother is the Duke of Ausones, a small and recent addition to the Nasennii Empire.

For three hundred years the Imperial war machine has fueled the Nasennii expansionism across the continent of Fantasia. A war machine that has been unable to advance across the northern expanses that make up Ithel.

Imperial superstition maintains that it is unlucky for a commander to remain unwed - so when the Royal Bastard, the Emperor's cursed child, makes little headway in the campaign a marriage in absentia is arranged.

A marriage to you.

It's a new world with a spouse you have never met.

Oh, except one itty-bitty thing - Fantasia Crown Wars is one of the most popular media franchises to exist. (Oh, and a savvy fan knows that Auberon Medulloi's younger sibling died.)

Characters

Auberon Medulloi - The Duke of Blood

Your new half-brother. He's famous among fans for his brutality as a military commander and the cold calculus with which he approaches his alliances when he's introduced during the third book of the main series. You know him as your warm, slightly fussy elder half-brother who frets himself silly over taking care of your family's lands and makes you sweets when you feel sad. He's joined you in the Imperial Capital to insure that you're safe and have all the support you could possibly stand. In the books he becomes the most feared leader of a rebellion against the Nassenian throne. One that was destroyed by your spouse and leads to Auberon's eventual execution.

Lucius/Lucia Nasennia(us) - Your Spouse, the Cursed Royal (RO)

They are the emperor's eldest child, the illegitimate one whom misfortune follows like an old friend. They were born in the dead of a moonless night and gifted with the ice magic of Ithel through their mother's veins. The priesthood has sworn should they ever take the throne it will be the end of the Nasennian Empire. And yet they are among the most gifted commanders of the age, it is on them victory against Ithel and peace among the conquered lands depend. The books described them as cold and calculating. The blockbuster movie saw them behead their younger brother after arranging the death of their father. They were also supposed to be unwed.

Marcus Nasennius - The Golden Prince (RO)

The third child of the emperor and the heir to the throne after the death of their sister. Marcus has always been the charmer of the royal family, the one for whom life was easy and joyful. He's said to have been blessed by the Empire's gods - born on a bright summer day in the heat of noon, and gifted with command of light magic he has always been placed in competition with his elder brother by the court, but they were friends once. Marcus was one of the main characters of the books - and the classic prince charming had always quite popular. So popular, in fact, that after his tragic demise in the movie he was brought back to life in the television show.

Rossella Catilia - The Red Mage (RO)

The Catilia family has stood behind and beside the throne of Nasennia since the War of Sparks founded the nascent Empire. They are wealthy and powerful and Rossella is the same age as Prince Marcus. She was brought to court at a young age and raised with the expectation that she would be among those considered as his match. A marriage she's openly appalled by due to her close friendship - and lack of romantic feelings for both the royal brothers. Still she's publicly considered the picture of what an Imperial Lady should strive for. Like many Imperial nobles she has some talent as a mage with a reputation as a skilled healer. In the books Rossella played the part of peacemaker between the brothers until her sudden foreign marriage removed her from the picture during TFCW's brief period as a graphic novel. (A move her fans hated almost as much as the scarlet color her hair was colored with on those pages.)

Caerwyn - The Assassin from Ithel (RO)

Bright, obnoxious, oh, and a vampire. This Ithellen assassin was meant to be your death. You're still not sure what changed his mind, nor why he's decided to serve you as your personal "spy-slash-assassin-slash-bodyguard-slash-gossip-gatherer". Caerwyn's appeared in the plot far earlier than he should have based on the books, where he only emerges out from the shadows after Ithel's defeat. Following the demise of his homeland he had come to serve your brother, Auberon. Caerwyn is among those that is supposed to be killed by your spouse, having dramatically sacrificed himself to ensure the escape of the rebel army and leading to that arc lasting much longer than anyone expected it would.

Rune Leleux - The Knight? (RO)

Like the assassin Caerwyn, Rune Leleux has shown up in the story far earlier than they should have. In fact you have a strong suspicion that the next book that was suppose to release in a month will reveal that the person introduced as a wandering bounty hunter and oath-breaking knight stole the real Leleux's identity. The Rune Leleux you know serves as your brother's faithful knight and right hand. They've been your friend since you were children. You can't see how the soft-spoken, if sometimes sarcastic, warrior who helps you live in Fantasia could possibly be the brutal and heavily scarred murderer draped in wolf skin that the Bastard Royal hires to help assassinate the emperor and sabotage the capital's defenses.

Robin Watcher - The Bard (RO)

This sweet natured bard is a minor character in the canon - like your new identity is. Or at least, she must be, because you definitely can't remember her from anywhere. (Maybe she was one of those unnamed extra in that one made-for-tv movie that everyone prefers to forget exists?) Whoever this bard is she always seems to know quite a bit about whoever happens to be around - and, well, she's rather curious about you. (In more ways than one.) Also, no one seems to know who she is or where she came from, just that she's great with instruments and has a very pretty voice.

WIP Warning: Any information contained in this post is subject to change as the project develops. The same goes for information posts on this blog.

[pizzahatt1]

Some elves + Seren. I drew Merethiel back when we only had concept art to go off of, so she looks a bit different from in-game.

[thesovereignsequel]

Not a fandom but your ocs?

Ah yes, the most self indulgent thing to answer >:3 I don't talk about my OCs literally ever on social media but I'll do it here for once.

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)

Currently? Eniola. He's an artist/angelic figure I'm developing with big Howl from Howl's Moving Castle energy. Who I'm thinking of changes but right now they're on my brain the most because I'm figuring out what all I want to do with them and it's becoming very spicy.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)

Haven't even named the character who immediately comes to mind yet so I'll go w/ a background character. Her name is Hat. She is litol and mushroom-y. Just a lil lass. Chaotic kiddo.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)

Nura or Sister Suffer. Nura because she is Dolly Parton's 9 to 5 personified and I love that for her. Sister Suffer because she's just a fucked up lady who maybe isn't as morally bad as the rest of her family.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)

So. Many. Gals. I love women. Violeta is a strong choice tho. Appears, smoochies the baddie, goes on w/ her day nonethewiser. But like i really just want to be whisked away by a cute lady on a series of trivial errands and then hold her hand o//w//o

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)

MY BOYSSSSS My fellas. My poor little meow meows. Ithel and Ruadhán. Pathetic. Home of sexual. In love. Two poor little meow meows being even more pathetic together. Also Mother Mistress but she isn't a poor little meow meow she's just. A witchy lady who is like. Not a good person but always fucking around and finding out for the fun of it. Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)

Ruadhán and Jack. Yea. The bois must have a terrible time. They also are foils so if one is suffering one way I kinda wanna see how the other brother responds to something similar. Two sides of the same coin.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell)

MMMM I think I like all of them. But the character I would send I cannot share the name of because I both don't have it yet and when I get it, it'll definitely be spoilers. But, it is referred to as It. And it would go to superhell because the beast is demonic in nature.

[kethsi]

Nature Magic

Islwyn overestimates his abilities. - Islwyn is also an unreliable narrator at the end. Warning for injuries. -

Here’s the thing about trees: Islwyn doesn’t understand them. At all. It’s his own fault, really. Teclyn and Amaethwr tried teaching him about different tree species when he was younger. Let it be known that he was ready and willing to fight anyone who said otherwise. They tried every method there was to teach him how to distinguish age and subspecies, how to spot whether or not it was diseased by examining the bark and the leaves or the needles. They tried teaching him through fun lessons, games and old songs. There were even field trips that were fun until they ended – Teclyn had accidentally spooked a sleeping grenwall once, and got his leg covered in spikes for his effort to calm the grumpy thing down. Shame he wasn’t as good with animals as he was with plantlife. It wasn’t their fault at all – Islwyn wasn’t a good student. He tried to listen, back in the day. He tried to write down notes in a way that made sense to him. It didn’t help much. He made peace with the fact that he wasn’t going to be the best tracker of Lletya long ago. It was alright. It was a childhood dream once, but he was never much of an archer anyway. Surely he’d be good at something else. Luckily for him, while he wasn’t much of an expert on all things leafy, his memory was quite alright. So he remembered how he helped plant a few trees outside his own house some thirty years ago. They were sitting apart, so that their roots won’t tangle with one another, and they were pretty tall to say the least. They provided shade for his house in the summer and caught some of the snow in the winter, valiantly taking pressure off of his roof. The smallest one he planted a bit too close to the house. It was rather careless, yes, but he didn’t have the foresight to tell it’d be obscuring most of his view from his window. By the time he considered replanting it, Amaethwr was adamant that the damage to the roots would be too severe, and no one had the heart to chop it down. Islwyn really should invest in another window.

Making a mental note to ask old lady Ithell for advice later, he sat down against the tree and opened a decorated green book with great care. It was his mother’s, passed down to her by his grandparents. It held detailed maps and descriptions of lands to the east – probably not accurate anymore, not since the war – notes about magic, and potions, and several forms of halberd combat. The magic sections were always most fascinating to him. 

It was a bit of an open secret among the elves that Glarial and Baxtorian were some of the most powerful mages on Gielinor. They could reshape the land itself in any way they desired, be it by creating rivers, raising hills from the flat ground, cloaking an open field with trees… It was amazing. Their empire was magnificent and prosperous, and this was one of the reasons. Their subjects would never go hungry, never experience a drought… He wished he knew this in such detail when he was young. He knows his mother grew up never wanting for anything, in the land of unparalleled plenty, before the war. These thrice-damned Iorwerths changed everything. Sure, Lletya was somewhat stable – the hunters and farmers did everything they could, and Eudav was actually very good at fishing, but pawyas were tricky to catch, the dire wolves were unforgiving, the bears were few and the Teif’s current was swift. The fish? Even swifter. It wasn’t uncommon for them to eat one meal a day. In fact, it was the norm, for most of his life. Islwyn took fishing himself, back in the day. He was better at it than he was at archery, but only because he used magic to help him. He cut his journey there and back by teleportation, fixed broken fishing rods with magic, and would even try to slow down the pikes and the rainbow fish. They didn’t need to zig-zag while swimming, since the river was flowing smoothly, and they’d avoid the rocky parts of the southern shore. The river needed to meander some more, but he didn’t have an army of lunatics with shovels and a death wish at the ready to dig for hours to redirect it. He looked back at the book. He didn’t need an army of lunatics. He had magic. Sure, he wasn’t all that powerful, but coming from a line of mages who reshaped the continent certainly didn’t hurt his chances. He spent the last three decades perfecting his control of nature magic. He should soon be able to use it to benefit them all. He closed the book and turned around. With one hand flat against the tree bark and one pressed to the ground, he whispered a long, familiar incantation. He flinched momentarily when he felt the bark pushing his hand slightly back, but kept going. He only stopped when the amount of light and shadow on the ground visibly changed, and he felt his strength slipping away. He looked up, dizzy, removing his hand from the ground. The tree has grown significantly, he noted. Good. It was only a matter of time.

---

Sitting on his roof at night, watching the stars, was rather lovely. He held a small green shard in his hands. Small fragment of an enchanted crystal, chipped away from a far more magnificent final product he did not possess. It was thrumming with energy, and it was calming. It doesn’t transform with a song, like other crystals do. It’s already enchanted with purpose. He remembered that much. Gwir told him about it, once. It was one of many discarded pieces of crystal Baxtorian had chipped away while trying to create a necklace for Glarial. He wasn’t much of a craftsman, though, and it was a personal gift he refused to ask for help while making, so at some point he just enchanted it in hopes that the crafting process would go smoother. It didn’t. According to Gwir, this crystal was from a stash given for magical adornments during the later years of the second age. Before Seren had to… ah… Leave. He didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe that’s why this shard exists at all. Baxtorian wouldn’t chip away perfectly good pieces of Seren herself, even as a gift. He briefly wondered whether Baxtorian would go to Seren for more crystal, or ask his parents, or sneak around to take more without actual permission.

Glarial got an amulet out of the main chunk of crystal, wherever it was. Gwir was unaware of the exact enchantments woven into it, but the fact that the little discarded pieces kept reappearing around for a while was telling enough. It was probably for teleportation, originally. Well, whatever was the purpose, Islwyn was happy enough with the small shard’s magical signature. It was calming. He got up, pocketed the shard, and leapt towards the tree, using the branches to climb down. The hunters were supposed to return soon, and he promised to help clean whatever they brought. He was still recovering his energy, but he wanted to be helpful around the town as well.

 ---

He teleported north-west at dawn. It was a couple days later, and he felt ready. He’s been thinking about this for a while. Running the idea in his head again and again. Fish were always in short supply these days. He was going to change that. He was sure of it. All he needed to do was push the ground here low enough, and make the ground at the bottom of the Teif rise up slightly. The first of several redirections of the eastern part of the river he had planned to carry out. He looked around him, checking the air for any trace of smoke and the earth for trampled leaves or disturbed animals. Nothing. Good, no Iorwerths to worry about at this moment. He was on the northern shore, a dangerous idea, really, but a sensible one. He needed to stand here for this to succeed. It was a massive undertaking he wasn’t strong enough yet to do remotely. He took a deep breath, momentarily touching the shard in his pocket. It was alright. He’s been training for decades. He planned this. This was fine. Slowly, he knelt down, putting his hands on the ground. He started talking. Pain started rushing over him nearly immediately. Not something he expected, but he shut his eyes and continued. These enchantments were tried and tested. It was okay. He felt his knees sinking – hopefully the ground around him would give way soon – and he could go on south. Truth be told, it was a longer process than he expected. The sun was harsh against his back by the time he felt it. He didn’t dare look around before, but he opened his eyes now that he felt something cold soaking his legs. Thankfully, it was water. Lots of it. He shuddered. The Teif always had a fast current. Soon, he had to get up and move, because the water levels were rising, and he wasn’t done yet. Doing his best to not get washed away, he teleported to the southern shore. He took a few steps. Something was wrong. He felt every pebble as he walked. It was as if he was stepping into jagged rocks. He was up to his ankles in the water when he fell to his knees. He tried to stand back up again, pushing himself up with his arms, but they were firm in the mud and plants at the bottom of this shallow end. He couldn’t move them if he wanted to. Before long he was chanting again. In the back of his mind, he knew that something went wrong. Terribly wrong. He could hardly move, because if he’d try, everything would hurt again. He chanted quicker. Was the water receding? Was the ground rising? …Was anything happening at all? Well, yes. Something was happening alright. Someone was dimming the sun. He blinked several times. It wasn’t the clouds. It was just getting darker. Darker around him. Colder. What was going on? Something bad, surely. He closed his eyes, opened them, and closed them again. But there was no difference. Only the dark.

[sayonaramidnight]

OC asks that reveal more than you think: 3 and 24 for Jedi :>; 6, 12, 15, 20 and 30 for both Yuki and Sora, bonus 24 for Sora; 6, 25 and 30 for Sibla; 7, 14, 27 for Kiki and Ithel.

Long time no see so many questions at once! XD

Sollanthi

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

*Sollanthi proudly shows you around her BIG wardrobe*

24. Honesty or charity?

And why would these two be mutually exclusive?

Agent Sibla

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

She usually trusts her own guts, but won’t refuse advice if it’s given by her bosses: the current one a.k.a. Keeper, whom she respects and knows his intentions, and the former one a.k.a. captain Medle, who was her superior back in the military and recommended her for Imperial Intelligence. Sometimes, though, their preferred ways of getting shit done can be completely opposite and collide, and then things get funny...

She’ll never take any advice from a Sith, because she’s just spiteful like that.

25. Safety or possibility?

She’s a consummate thrill-seeker, so possibility, always.

30. What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

Finally have her long rest?

Yuki

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

There are very few people she trusts enough to take advice from them. Aunt Amy, because she’s Yuki’s surrogate parent figure. Arcade, because he’s her morality pet. ED-E, because he’s cute. And possibly Cynthia, if she uses reverse psychology.

12. Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Romance is fun! The more exciting, the better!

15. What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

Cooking in an oven. You can’t persuade her that the oven does NOT want to eat her, so it’s a waste of time to even try (camp-fires FTW!).

20. What do they like that nobody else does?

Um. Uh... Benny?

30. What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

Basically anything she does falls under that category, except her attempts on getting a boyfriend for Cyn, so it probably would be just that.

Sora

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

She’s that kind of person who always wants to make her own choices and decisions, so she’s kind of... wary of taking advice most of the time. She would never take it from someone she utterly dislikes - like that time when the Gathbin scum subtly suggested she should withdraw her claim to Caed Nua or when Furrante politely asked her to make a deal with slavers...

But when advice is necessary, her pets are unbeatable at it. No, really. They come to her and say: “Why so sad, pet us! Get some sleep like we do! Have a walk with us! Give us food and eat something too!” in their animal languages - and she always follows. They’re number one advice givers, but from what I’ve seen in the game, I can say Hiravias does his best to be the close second and he earned his right to call her out when she goes too far. Lady Webb could be number three, for Sora admired her a lot and valued her experience.

12. Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Why bother with romance if you can have an intellectual rivalry?

15. What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

Dealing with Woedica. She’s fed up with Woedica.

20. What do they like that nobody else does?

Storming the rough sea with a battle cry: “IN YOUR FACE, ONDRA!”. Also, dragons.

24. Honesty or charity?

Depends on her mood the circumstances.

30. What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

She kind of… did exactly that... with the souls in Sun in Shadow… and nobody has called her out on it… ever…

The two disasters

7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Ithel about Kirara: “Sheltered. Talented. Radiant.”

Kirara about Ithel: “Beyond my comprehension.”

(I’ve got a strange feeling they ignored the actual question, but oh well).

14. Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

For Kirara it’s definitely those hi-life magazines she subscribes. Ithel, however, doesn’t quite grasp the concept. Is this something like enjoying the smell of roses while reminiscing about Queen Mairi? Or all those things his associate Travl does in brothels? Why suffer like that, seriously?

27. Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Kirara would be happy to say “justice”, but first she needs to learn how to be unbiased and that may take her some time. For Ithel it’s not veNGEANCE, IT’S SIMPLY THE RIGHT THING TO DO.

[jonogueirawrites]

Fate in our hands, destiny in our hearts.

Humans and Elves have lived in harmony for centuries, but years of peace turn into ash when a request is denied. However, what fate has traced can also be chosen as destiny. When a daughter gives up all her wishes and dreams to take care of her younger sister neglecting herself, an elf with onyx eyes reminds her that life is lived once and must be enjoyed to the last breath.

Notes:  ** = Elven language. AO3 I was listening to this.

 Chapter 1.

Fate is set.

The little elf’s ear twitched when his friend giggled behind the curtain.

“Where are you, Apollo?” – He crouched changing his instance to the natural hunter inside him.

Apollo held his breath and covered his mouth with his tiny hands. He heard a noise coming from his right and hid behind the nearest door. They had played many times before, and he knew there was no way he could hide from his friend for long.

Ithel made sure to make noise when he stepped inside the room and heard another giggle. He approached the door, and a little gasp reached his pointy ears while his lips stretched in a mischievous smile.

“Found you!” – He declared revealing the little human crouched behind the wooden door. – “Do you want to hide again?”

Apollo nodded and ran to the hallway bumping into his mother.

“There you are, boys. I’ve been looking for you.” – She tousled her son’s hair. – “Ithel, your mother wants you to go clean up for dinner.” – She caressed his pale cheeks.

“Of course, my lady.” – He bowed in her direction. – “Next time I’ll find you faster, Apollo.” – He hugged his friend and left to look for his mother.

It didn’t matter how many times he walked the castle’s hallways and gardens; he always marveled at the beautiful art his people were capable of doing. The frescos in the walls depicting the elven culture.

One in particular always made him lose track of time and stop to admire the complexity of the tiny details so vividly portrayed.

Elves and humans were not always allies and calling each other friends were, in the far past, something they thought would never be possible. When the elven people were threatened by the Yahg, the far north orcs, the humans surprisingly came to their aid without being summoned and fought on their side for months before the orcs were finally driven back to the cold mountains.

The humans left the way they came, and not a single official request was made. Weeks after their departure a full caravan of help arrived at their doors. Wood, iron, a sort of different materials and food were distributed, but when the human king arrived to speak with the elven king, the population was afraid of what would be demanded in return.

The meeting was long, but soon later they learned the humans only wished for peace among the peoples, and after that, trading started to flow between the kingdoms. Years later both lands were full of different colors, languages, and culture.

Weddings between elves and humans were normal and even appreciated. From their marriage, the bond between them only strengthened, and the children always had elvish characteristics, the only difference was their slightly smaller ears, only noticeable if one was looking for it.

Ithel studied carefully the elves and humans painted on the wall. They smiled, lived, loved… they looked happy. He knew one day he would be the king of his people, and his heart grew apprehensive once again.

He thought about it when he observed the frescos or when he watched his father in his simple white throne. A reminder that being king meant nothing compared to the people, a king was nothing without his people. He dreamed with his coronation day, and he prayed to be a fair king like the ones before him.

His father teased him every time he caught the little elf staring at him with his big shiny eyes.

*You know the meaning of your name, Ithel?* – His father asked in elvish, crouched near him. – *It means ‘Generous Lord’. You will be a great king someday. Stop doubting yourself, son.* – After a quick kiss on the forehead, his father would return to his throne.

Remembering his father’s words, he continued on his way to his mother’s room.

“It’s time to take a bath, Apollo. Remember to wash behind your ears, okay?”

The little boy started taking his clothes off and threw the t-shirt over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom.

“Saturn?” – The woman called, massaging the man’s shoulders.

“Yes, love?” – He caressed her hands.

“How long is this meeting going to last? I haven't been feeling well the last few days…”

Saturn stood up and rested his hands on the small of her back, pulling her close to brush his nose on hers.

“Only the gods know… I don’t know what they are talking about and it worries me. My father never left me behind when meeting with Emyr. I’m the future king, and I’m supposed to be part of the meetings…”

“Look at me.” – She raised his head. – “You’ll be a great king, better than your father.” – He tried to protest. – “Yes, you will. Everyone knows you favor peace and your father doesn’t like…”

“Be careful. You are talking about your king.”

“Since your mother died he hasn’t been the same. I wonder what happened to him to change so much.”

“Mom!” – Apollo shouted from the bathroom.

The woman gave her husband a kiss on the lips, and he sighed on her mouth.

“I love you!” – He whispered.

With a smile, she went to tend to her son, and he heard her confess her feelings for him as well.

“I love you too.” – He smiled at her words.

Dinner was served, and the table was full of the traditional elven cuisine. Bread, meat and the delicious juices made from the different fruits present in the kingdom.

“Saturn,” – Rhiannon, the elven queen started. – “how long more will this meeting take? I thought they would be having dinner with us.” – She finished gathering food for Ithel.

He looked at his wife and sighed. Resting his hands on his lap, he answered her.

“I thought it would be over by now. I just wish I were there with them.”

“I’m sure they have their reasons. In the meantime, let’s enjoy the hot food.”

While the adults chatted away about their adulting things, the boys played ‘I spy with my little eye”. Ithel and Apollo’s laughter ringed in the room’s walls, and they made promises to go swimming in the Athrénión’s waters in the following day.

“I will teach you how to swim, Apollo.” – The little elf patted his friend’s shoulder. – “First you have to learn how to float…” – His words were cut short when the door was violently opened.

“We are going home, now!” – Mercury marched inside, taking his grandson on his arms he started leaving the place without looking back.

Saturn slowly stood up when the royal guard entered the place with weapons at ready.

“What is going on?” – The prince took his wife’s hand in his.

Emyr emerged from one of the opposite doors, his white face reddened with fury. His eyes staring at the human king in front of him.

*My love?* – Rhiannon tried, her heart beating in her ears.

“Never again humans will set foot in my lands. You will be escorted out of my kingdom, and every human not married to one of my people will have a week to move and never return.” – Spit flew off his mouth, and the guards proceeded to guide them out of the castle.

“Rhiannon?” – Apollo’s mother called when Mercury set him on her arms. – “Rhiannon!”

The women tried to hold each other, but the guards pulled their queen away. Tears rolling down their cheeks.

“I will write to you as soon as I can!” – She promised while holding her friend’s hand tightly in hers.

“Ithel? Ithel?” – Apollo yelled his lungs out when his mother was forced to leave the place. The boy fought his mother to reach his friend.

Ithel ran to the little human calling him, but his father held him in place.

“Observe, Ithel. This is why we should never have trusted the humans in the first place.”

The boy’s ears twitched in confusion. His hands raised in the sudden empty and cold air, trying to touch his friend for the last time. A single thick tear rolled down his pale skin, and he cleaned his elvish and complete onyx colored eyes with the back of his tiny hands.

[worldfurnitureandbits]

The King of the Unwanted

6D.Hi.Event.Ithel Wynn

Ithel Wynn sat on the steps of the dais where the great, black, vacant throne of The Ancient King loomed.  He sat just beyond the edge of its shadow, hunched and pensive, turning over the choices and options that lay before him.  His long, pale fingers traced patterns in the dirt and dust that had accumulated in this old, ruinous place.

This was not his castle.  The throne on the dais was not his.  The kingdom was not his.  And yet he was called ‘king’--yes, Ithel Wynn, King of the Wastes, Ruler of the exiled, the unwanted, and the dispossessed.  But he ruled little more than those beings that wandered this miserable, barren place.

The land, the kingdom, all the real power wasn’t his.  He was a joke and a sham, the least of all kings.  So low that none even bothered to attack or invade his kingdom... he had nothing to take, but the folk who’d already been cast out.  He was voiceless in the great courts and his word hand no weight or vale.  His subjects were only the desperate and scorned who swore allegiance to him for the sake of the comfort of having a king.

His title had been handed to him by the Lady of the Blackest Night and Brightest Day--the ruler of the Cthonic realms when he’d come of age and found himself unwanted by all the great nobles.  What else could be done with a courtless youth of noble blood?

But there was a way to take power...

A smile played at his lips as he traced patterns in the dust on the step beside him.

I know what you are planning, a voice that crackled like dead leaves in Falltide whispered.

He looked up, but he did not turn to seek the body to which the voice belonged.  There was no point.  She was nowhere and everywhere.  He had reason to believe that she had a form, but it was beyond his sight or understanding.

She was the Aos of this place.  More Goddess than queen.  And he was beholden to her.

“What of it?” he asked.

It is cruel.  I do not care for cruelty, she said.

“And I do not care for being a kingdom-less King,” he said, turning his gaze back to the finger-tracings. “One of us must be unhappy, and I know that you are always happy to open your gates to new subjects.  Why turn your eyes from one in desperate need?”

Those who come here have nowhere left to go.  They are driven here.  What you would do... You would take them from their world and drag them into this one.  And that is cruel.

He stood and stared out into the room, his eyes focused on the unseen and unknown.  His straight posture and the downward turn of his lips conveyed his defensiveness and resolve.  “But what life is there for this child?” he asked. “They were doomed before birth.  They were made to die.  Their fate is already decided.  This poor creature can do some good and it may have its life by serving my purpose.”  As he spoke, he found his determination increased.  “I see no wrong in that.”

There was no response.

If you do this, I promise you will suffer an agony that your kind seldom knows and it will be a pain greater than you can ever possibly imagine, the voice warned in the whispers of the wind.

Ithel Wynn lifted his chin defiantly.  “Do your worst.  And I will do mine.   But you will thank me when I’m through and, one day, you will call me king and even the Lady of Brightest Day and Darkest Night will bow to me!”  he declared.

Of that, the voice murmured, I have no doubt...

He thought he heard a smile there.  But it seemed impossible to know if a thing that had no face was capable of smiling.

[wonderwafles]

Two Paths We Walk

Small and VERY BELATED birthday fic for @saiansha concerning Lord Amlodd and my messy, ill-formed post-restoration headcanons about him (and the other clan leaders as well).

Happy days-after-your-bday friendo :D (I AM SO SORRY)

It is night in Prifddinas, and you are walking.

The city sleeps. You could be sleeping too, if you wanted to.

Earlier that night there was a feast, a celebration of the touch of autumn coloring the trees. All of the clans of Prifddinas attended, and you had forgotten how much you had missed that.

You stared at your food, some of the finest ever prepared by elves, and couldn’t bring yourself to touch it. You were starving, but the thought of it sliding down your throat and into your stomach felt as alien to you as licking dirt or sniffing snow.

Lady Trahaern laughed when you told her that you didn’t feel real. “Must be nice,” she snorted, her aged body looking crooked, even in the exoskeleton. “Reality is a let-down. Believe me.”

You believe her.

You still wish you could eat.

“Don’t be silly,” Lady Hefin told you. “You’re real. As real as any of us. Which,” she mused, “might not be real at all. How are we to know?”

Lady Hefin could be philosophical at the worst of times.

“It’s not just that,” you said.

She arched an eyebrow.

“I am of course happy to be back in Prifddinas,” you said. “You know that. But-”

The silence stretched on. You can’t find the words. At last, Lady Hefin seems to run out of patience.

“You miss the spirit realm,” Hefin observed.

You’re caught off guard and a bit put out that she finished your dramatic sentence for you. “How did you know?” you asked her.

She smiled at you. “Believe me,” she said. “I know. There are times I miss even my dirty old shack.” She hesitated. “I think… I felt closer to Seren there than I do here, sometimes. There are times even her own city feels like a distraction.”

You waited.

“But,” she said, and finally sat down across from you, pushed a plate of odd-looking food your way. “We all, as living creatures, strain against our own flesh. You just came more close than others to knowing what it’s like to escape. I can imagine that returning to it would be disorientating.” She waved at the food. “Go on, eat.”

“Is it moving?” you asked, squinting at the food. It shuddered.

“I suspect that’s just the effect of hunger-induced delusions.”

“Oh,” you said. “What’s in it?”

“This is a delicate procedure, and I don’t want to jeopardize it by telling you what’s in that meal. Eat.”

You’re skeptical, but the hunger roars in your stomach, and at last you eat.

It was surprisingly good, you thought. The small noises of pain were likely hunger-induced delusions as well.

“Well?” Lady Hefin asked, once you had finished. “Do you feel any better?”

You consider. “I think,” you said, “I feel less hungry.”

“Well,” Lady Hefin said. “Perhaps that’s the most we can hope for, sometimes.”

…

Lady Ithell is not the same one you remember, but when she looks up at you, and a smile quirks her face, she looks very much like her.

Today, she was leaning over the railing, surveying the western ocean.

“Ah, Lord Amlodd,” she said, almost lazily. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“I just ate some food,” you offered, and immediately kick yourself.

“I mean, for the first time,” you corrected.

“Since we came back,” you added.

“I’m sorry,” you finish. “I must confess I don’t know how to act around you yet.”

You feared the look on her face when you finally looked back over, but she is smiling, and for an instant Lady Ithell is smiling at you.

“That’s good,” Kelyn said. “I don’t know how to act around myself yet. Perhaps we can help each other.”

Silence.

“The city is beautiful,” she said. “I remember it just like this. And I am thrilled to see it now for the first time.”

“Do you miss being Kelyn?” you asked.

“Am I not Kelyn still?” she asked in turn. Then, she sighed. “Well, perhaps not. But I don’t think I’m Lady Ithell, either, except by name.”

“I think I know the feeling,” you said.

Another smile. You are smiling now, too.

…

“Amlodd,” said Lord Crwys seriously, pinning you with a look like beams of light from the sun. “I’m part tree. Trust me, I know what you’re going through.”

“What do you do to deal with that?” you asked seriously.

Crwys shook his head. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“How do you cope with being part tree?” you ask again.

Crwys laughed, which surprised you. “Cope?” he asked. “Ha! This is the best thing that ever happened to me!”

He laughed for some time more. It wasn’t until you felt the laughter come over you secondhand and joined him that he stopped, leaving your laugh lingering awkwardly.

“Amlodd, old friend,” he said to you. “You mustn’t deny yourself. I myself am not sure what I am anymore. An Elf? A tree? Who knows? Who cares?”

You are silent for a few moments. “Don’t you, you know,” you said, words seeming to fail you, “want to know who and what you are?”

“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Crwys said. “I do. I’m Lord Piquan Crwys. I like most forms of cheese, I’m afraid of the ocean, and the anatomy of birds disturbs me.”

“They are odd-looking creatures,” you muse.

“What more should I want?” Crwys continued. “You miss the Spirit Realm, yes? That’s alright. You’re allowed to miss it. You’re allowed to like being in Prifddinas. You’re allowed to like both. You are vast. You contain multitudes.”

“I contain what?” you said, slightly frightened now.

“Nevermind. You know what I mean. Now,” he said. “Go on. You’re Lord Amlodd. Go and do what Lord Amlodd does and eventually it’ll feel natural again.”

“Well,” you said. “I feel like gathering raw shards with my mouth right now.”

“Perhaps,” Lord Crwys said, “rethink that one.”

…

It is night, and you have finished walking.

You are settled now, you think. The stars gleam above you, fixed and eternal, and you are fluid.

You have not wanted to convey summoning shards with your mouth for four hours now.

Life is good.

[qiji12-blog]

Shards Of Runescape

Meilyr and Crwys shard

The Elixir of Revealment concoction is actually extracted from combining a good protection concoction having a wintercup mushroom along with a bloodcap mushroom.

Speak with Coeden within the Crwys region. He can inform you that you might want the wintercup mushroom, that he can provide you with right after this individual informs a tale. Your own personality will begin to get to sleep throughout the tale; to remain up, click the elven group symbols which show up within the display screen because this individual instantly narrates. Should you fall short, when the eyelid display screen went dark, you are able to shift Coeden's discussion display screen to find out the symbols much better. Within the heritage setting user interface, click on the red-colored switch underneath the house teleport symbol in the best correct part from the display screen in order to keep the dark see.

The bloodcap mushroom are available simply to the west from the Tirannwn mushroom producing plot. Utilize each mushrooms within the concoction to produce the Spirit associated with Revealment. The concoction should after that be applied within the shards about the Amazingly woods in order to uncover the give entry. For those who have entry to the Maximum Guild and also have level 94 Woodcutting, you are able to attune among the sites to consider you to definitely the energetic amazingly woods. When you think it is, make use of the concoction on a single from the shards round the woods along with a pit will be within the floor. Ascend straight down and make Seren shard associated with tranquility through the origins.

Trahaearn and Ithell shard

Visit Lletya and provide the Trahaearn exoskeleton arranged. Check out the nicely while watching Ithell Sculpture, and ascend in it. Trahaearn automaton mk Sixth mk V is experienced protecting entry to the shard, but it will surely not really allow you to move. Putting on the Trahaearn exoskeleton arranged can make it befuddle a person with regard to Lady Trahaearn, however it will nevertheless request a person a few queries and that means you aren't a good impostor.

When the queries tend to be effectively clarified, the automaton should go right into a unaggressive statement setting within a part from the space. Make Seren shard of discretion through the performing dish in the space.

[milenaolesinska]

Exposition Art Blog   Ithell Colquhoun - artist, writer, occultist

Ithell Colquhoun (9 October 1906 – 11 April 1988) was a British Surrealist painter and author. She was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. From the 1930s to her death, her work was exhibited widely in Britain and Germany.Margaret Ithell Colquhoun was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. Her parents were Henry Colquhoun, an assistant to the ambassador in Manipur, and his wife Georgia. Colquhoun was educated in Rodwell, near Weymouth, Dorset before attending Cheltenham Ladies' College. There she studied topics such as the cabbala and the occult.Colquhoun did take some art courses, but she was largely self-taught. Colquhoun studied for a period at the Slade School of Art in London, under Henry Tonks and Randolph Schwabe, before travelling to France in 1931. It was in Paris that she discovered surrealism and was especially influenced by the works of Salvador Dalí. ............More

[aadizooke-blog]

doodle from dxp

i don’t imagine this would be lady ithell’s fashion sense and she also probably wouldn’t be as grumpy, but think this was juuuuust about when i lost my motivation on Saturday so drawing a fancy dress just wasn’t happening 

[milenaolesinska]

Exposition Art Blog   Ithell Colquhoun - artist, writer, occultist

Ithell Colquhoun (9 October 1906 – 11 April 1988) was a British Surrealist painter and author. She was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. From the 1930s to her death, her work was exhibited widely in Britain and Germany.Margaret Ithell Colquhoun was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. Her parents were Henry Colquhoun, an assistant to the ambassador in Manipur, and his wife Georgia. Colquhoun was educated in Rodwell, near Weymouth, Dorset before attending Cheltenham Ladies' College. There she studied topics such as the cabbala and the occult.Colquhoun did take some art courses, but she was largely self-taught. Colquhoun studied for a period at the Slade School of Art in London, under Henry Tonks and Randolph Schwabe, before travelling to France in 1931. It was in Paris that she discovered surrealism and was especially influenced by the works of Salvador Dalí. ............More

[milenaolesinska]

Exposition Art Blog   Ithell Colquhoun - artist, writer, occultist

Ithell Colquhoun (9 October 1906 – 11 April 1988) was a British Surrealist painter and author. She was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. From the 1930s to her death, her work was exhibited widely in Britain and Germany.Margaret Ithell Colquhoun was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. Her parents were Henry Colquhoun, an assistant to the ambassador in Manipur, and his wife Georgia. Colquhoun was educated in Rodwell, near Weymouth, Dorset before attending Cheltenham Ladies' College. There she studied topics such as the cabbala and the occult.Colquhoun did take some art courses, but she was largely self-taught. Colquhoun studied for a period at the Slade School of Art in London, under Henry Tonks and Randolph Schwabe, before travelling to France in 1931. It was in Paris that she discovered surrealism and was especially influenced by the works of Salvador Dalí. ............More

[milenaolesinska]

Exposition Art Blog   Ithell Colquhoun - artist, writer, occultist

Ithell Colquhoun (9 October 1906 – 11 April 1988) was a British Surrealist painter and author. She was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. From the 1930s to her death, her work was exhibited widely in Britain and Germany.Margaret Ithell Colquhoun was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. Her parents were Henry Colquhoun, an assistant to the ambassador in Manipur, and his wife Georgia. Colquhoun was educated in Rodwell, near Weymouth, Dorset before attending Cheltenham Ladies' College. There she studied topics such as the cabbala and the occult.Colquhoun did take some art courses, but she was largely self-taught. Colquhoun studied for a period at the Slade School of Art in London, under Henry Tonks and Randolph Schwabe, before travelling to France in 1931. It was in Paris that she discovered surrealism and was especially influenced by the works of Salvador Dalí. ............More

[milenaolesinska]

Exposition Art Blog   Ithell Colquhoun - artist, writer, occultist

Ithell Colquhoun (9 October 1906 – 11 April 1988) was a British Surrealist painter and author. She was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. From the 1930s to her death, her work was exhibited widely in Britain and Germany.Margaret Ithell Colquhoun was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. Her parents were Henry Colquhoun, an assistant to the ambassador in Manipur, and his wife Georgia. Colquhoun was educated in Rodwell, near Weymouth, Dorset before attending Cheltenham Ladies' College. There she studied topics such as the cabbala and the occult.Colquhoun did take some art courses, but she was largely self-taught. Colquhoun studied for a period at the Slade School of Art in London, under Henry Tonks and Randolph Schwabe, before travelling to France in 1931. It was in Paris that she discovered surrealism and was especially influenced by the works of Salvador Dalí. ............More

[milenaolesinska]

Exposition Art Blog   Ithell Colquhoun - artist, writer, occultist

Ithell Colquhoun (9 October 1906 – 11 April 1988) was a British Surrealist painter and author. She was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. From the 1930s to her death, her work was exhibited widely in Britain and Germany.Margaret Ithell Colquhoun was born in Shillong, Eastern Bengal and Assam, British India. Her parents were Henry Colquhoun, an assistant to the ambassador in Manipur, and his wife Georgia. Colquhoun was educated in Rodwell, near Weymouth, Dorset before attending Cheltenham Ladies' College. There she studied topics such as the cabbala and the occult.Colquhoun did take some art courses, but she was largely self-taught. Colquhoun studied for a period at the Slade School of Art in London, under Henry Tonks and Randolph Schwabe, before travelling to France in 1931. It was in Paris that she discovered surrealism and was especially influenced by the works of Salvador Dalí. ............More