The cavernous room was filled with the soft light of the fireplace, its flames licking and curling a slow, steady pattern along the smooth-polished stone walls like two lovers caught in a sensuous dance. The room was quiet besides the occassional snap of red-hot embers, a sharp crackling sound which did not conceal the writhing, tumbling storm that tore all Heas to shreads, its slashing rain and hail and lightning pounding threateningly against the long profile windows that faced out into the Courtyard. It was late at night, yet the world had not eased into the great stillness that normally accompanies the dark hours. Cienwyn lay in the great bed, her slight form a scarcely noticeable presence in the heaped furs and blankets. At her side, Achilles lay dozing, the tiny, furry creature nestled against the young woman for extra warmth on the bittery cold night. Every now and then, his paws twitched and his little body stirred, mirroring the absent curl of his lips that revealed pointed ivory teeth., as if in response to a nightmare. The girl, unlike her bed companion, was wakeful, her long-lashed eyes darting over a page in her journal as her hand moved slowly in the neat, precise motions of writing. Her long, curling hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders in a stream of polished obsidian, raven-black and glinting like the river Styx. Every now and then, a stray curl escaped from the rest to fight with the tip of her writing instrument, and, by now oblivious to the once-nuisance, the young woman tossed it back absently, her wide, blue eyes focused on the page before her.
As welcomed the freedom of the Northern Forest, it felt good- so good- to be back home at her brother's house, esconed warmly in her room with her bed, her harp, her fireplace- her Achilles. Nestled within the ever-present safety of Vigo and Rachelle's love, Cien felt, finally, that she had a place in the world. Slowly, she had been able to scrub the filth of the blighted Slums from her skin- she had felt a peculiar sort of satisfaction in watching it burn. A daughter of House Aeldra should not subject herself to that sort of poverty- atleast, that's what her mother would say, Cienwyn thought grimly.
As welcomed the freedom of the Northern Forest, it felt good- so good- to be back home at her brother's house, esconed warmly in her room with her bed, her harp, her fireplace- her Achilles. Nestled within the ever-present safety of Vigo and Rachelle's love, Cien felt, finally, that she had a place in the world. Slowly, she had been able to scrub the filth of the blighted Slums from her skin- she had felt a peculiar sort of satisfaction in watching it burn. A daughter of House Aeldra should not subject herself to that sort of poverty- atleast, that's what her mother would say, Cienwyn thought grimly.
Silently, the young woman considered the fact that she was no longer of House Aeldra- she had taken on a different name, one that was far more pleasing to her. Megondine. This time, she had chosen her family for herself, and the looming figure of her Papa- Baron Nathan Aeldra- had become a shadow in her awareness. I'm sorry, Papa, Cien thought sadly, I'll never forget you, or House Aeldra. But it's time to grow up and move on. You'd like Vigo if you met him- very much.
"Well, well... how fares my beautiful sister?", Vigo's voice had been unmistakeable, and Cienwyn's heart had swelled in delight as she turned to view the sea-bedraggled form of her brother, grinning impudently as he leant against the side of the door, so obviously pleased at having surprised her. "You smell like a sailor, Vigo", Cienwyn wrinkled her nose as she kissed Vigo's cheek, her pale arms draped about his shoulders, "I have plenty of news for you", she added, pushing the tip of her nose against his affectionately. "Oh?", Vigo's natural curiousity seemed to overtake him, "You're still the most handsome man in all Heas", the young woman told him with a youthful giggle, her wide, blue eyes rounding in feigned innocence, "And Chelle misses you very much". A pause given, "I did miss you too, Vigo, even if you look like an old man". Vigo had grinned, pressing an affectionate kiss against her cheek, "I missed you as well, sister. You're a ray of sun in an otherwise dark city. It's no wonder all of Seahaven fawns over you". "It must be the Megondine charm rubbing off on me, yes?", Cienwyn had responded with a laugh, smiling the dimples into her cheeks as she added winsomely, "Between us, we shall conquer the city". Vigo laughed heartily, brushing a wisp of hair from the girl's eyes, "You already had the Megondine charm, my dear- you were born to be my sister. We will conquer the city, hmm?". "Off with you, then- clean yourself up so we can get to work", Cienwyn dismissed him, drawing out of the taller man's arms to make for the door. Tell him, a voice whispered in her ear. The young woman paused, letting her tounge roll about the words, "I... do love you, Vigo", she told her brother sincerely. His face softened, "Cienwyn, I love you as well".
Yes. You'd like him, Papa. He keeps me safe.
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