The Feast of the Phantom Moon [Empire!]

[Mary_Sue]

Avonlea

Spoiler: Previously...

Show

Lord Winter's countenance grew dark at mention of the Avonlean Council, though he did not respond immediately. Rather he leaned back into his tall chair and examined the contours of the sea serpent hanging from the vaulted ceiling on iron chains, memento of a conquest long passed.

<"Yes, your Prophetess Council. A distasteful group of crones. I would offer your children sanctuary here, should they wish it. I would also offer it to you, High Queen. You would not be the first outsider to find peace behind the veil of Tir Amser. But would it not be better to free yourself of the looming threat before it has strength enough to strike?">

Aris relaxed as the Lord consented to harbour her children, for the moment distracted at the prospect of relaying to the Dullahan his Lord's consent to conceive another, and rendered most happy for it. Her happiness was but short lived as Lord Morrig put forth his suggestion of treachery. She knew she must keep the desire from her heart lest they ken her purpose with their canny minds. She sat back in her chair and folded her legs under her beneath her skirts, feeling quite small and insignificant next to such vital figures as Lord Winter and the Council. What motive of purpose they had! How sly and cunning they all were compared to her! She was the High Queen, and yet her desires looked no further than her Queendom's needs and her children's safety. The very foundation of her people's traditions were being called to task and she felt unequal to discuss the matter at hand, in no small part because she knew the Lord spoke true yet she dare not move against the Council whilst they still held the temple in their grasp.

"My Lord, what you are proposing, even if possible, is quite blasphemous. the Council is said to be the voice and eyes of the Mother on Arandi, to defy them would be to deny the Mother herself. I do not know that it could be done." Or so they tell us. She shifted uncertainly, the deep wells of experience that dwelt within the Lords eyes coupled with her own doubts was nearly enough to convince her.

[TheDarkDM]

Avonlea

Spoiler: Previously...

Show

Aris relaxed as the Lord consented to harbour her children, for the moment distracted at the prospect of relaying to the Dullahan his Lord's consent to conceive another, and rendered most happy for it. Her happiness was but short lived as Lord Morrig put forth his suggestion of treachery. She knew she must keep the desire from her heart lest they ken her purpose with their canny minds. She sat back in her chair and folded her legs under her beneath her skirts, feeling quite small and insignificant next to such vital figures as Lord Winter and the Council. What motive of purpose they had! How sly and cunning they all were compared to her! She was the High Queen, and yet her desires looked no further than her Queendom's needs and her children's safety. The very foundation of her people's traditions were being called to task and she felt unequal to discuss the matter at hand, in no small part because she knew the Lord spoke true yet she dare not move against the Council whilst they still held the temple in their grasp.

"My Lord, what you are proposing, even if possible, is quite blasphemous. the Council is said to be the voice and eyes of the Mother on Arandi, to defy them would be to deny the Mother herself. I do not know that it could be done." Or so they tell us. She shifted uncertainly, the deep wells of experience that dwelt within the Lords eyes coupled with her own doubts was nearly enough to convince her.

Lord Winter's smile in response to the High Queen's protestations was mirthless, and his eyes moved deliberately to look on an arched cabinet where hung idols and holy symbols that seemed to span the ages, wood and weathered rock giving way to bronze, then iron, then gold.

<"Blasphemous in Avonlea perhaps, High Queen. But this is not Avonlea. Nor is Daen the first new god burdened with unfit prophets. Consider how easily your own New Order overwhelmed the entrenched beliefs of the Grand Church. Clearly they lacked the favor of your god, and who is to say they are the only ones? Belief has terrible power, but it is an ephemeral thing. Steel and fire may disperse it, disaster undermine it, but always it flows back into the hands of those believed fit to wield it. You believe your Council to be unassailable, monumental, but is that not what they have taught you to believe? Have taught your entire people to believe, down to the meanest beggar? And is it not evidence of their frailty, that they seek such an iron grip on the throne, to deny your daughter any inheritance beyond banishment? While you believe them invincible, invincible they remain. But allow yourself to believe, truly believe, in the strength of your own convictions? As I and my court believed in Thalia and believe in you? Then it becomes a simple thing. An inevitability.">

[Mary_Sue]

Avonlea

Spoiler

Show

Lord Winter's smile in response to the High Queen's protestations was mirthless, and his eyes moved deliberately to look on an arched cabinet where hung idols and holy symbols that seemed to span the ages, wood and weathered rock giving way to bronze, then iron, then gold.

<"Blasphemous in Avonlea perhaps, High Queen. But this is not Avonlea. Nor is Daen the first new god burdened with unfit prophets. Consider how easily your own New Order overwhelmed the entrenched beliefs of the Grand Church. Clearly they lacked the favor of your god, and who is to say they are the only ones? Belief has terrible power, but it is an ephemeral thing. Steel and fire may disperse it, disaster undermine it, but always it flows back into the hands of those believed fit to wield it. You believe your Council to be unassailable, monumental, but is that not what they have taught you to believe? Have taught your entire people to believe, down to the meanest beggar? And is it not evidence of their frailty, that they seek such an iron grip on the throne, to deny your daughter any inheritance beyond banishment? While you believe them invincible, invincible they remain. But allow yourself to believe, truly believe, in the strength of your own convictions? As I and my court believed in Thalia and believe in you? Then it becomes a simple thing. An inevitability.">

Aris's eyes followed the Lord's own black pools and she joined his gaze upon the trinkets of faith long departed from this world. She shivered then and pulled her raven feather cloak tighter around her small form, though warmth was not what she sought, but comfort and the conviction of purpose. That dark looming purpose was growing around her, and she yet did not know if she could bear its weight. She felt the merciless grasp of inevitability clutch ahold of her, pulling her towards her fate hand over hand with relentless determination. Her uncertain gaze moved again to the Lord, her face held the vulnerable look of the very young who were not wont to intrigue and treachery, and yet in her held an earnest desire to free her people from the darkness that had oppressed them for as long as they knew. Was that chance not worth risking her life? And yet she was loathe to cast it away so readily, though the Lord was wise, and his words rang true, might not she be but a tool to him? The one and twenty short years of her life were nothing to him, he spoke of belief in her, but was it the belief that she could be turned to his purpose or the belief of her as a person, vital and just in her being?

"Thalia was punished for her trespasses against them, whether she disappeared of her own volition or no matters little, she has suffered for it either way, and make no mistake." Her voice quavered, imagining a forced separation from her child, or children perhaps. She felt a sudden jolt of realization strike her, had she not only now brokered safe harbourage for her children? She would be made to suffer abandoning them whether she defied the Council or no, it seemed she had but one choice if she was to be assured their safety, and free her people from the crones hoary thumbs, for even now her chosen heiress, Sabine Stormskye was being made to attend the Council, her mind twisted to their evil purpose. That was the fate that awaited Avonlea should she fail. She turned her pale face to the Lord, dismayed though resolute in her demeanor,

"Tell me what you would have me do, Lord." Her voice was little more than a whisper, though served her well enough in relaying her new conviction.