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"If it were so simple, Sir Seraph, I would gladly shed my wings for this marriage and the betterment of my country. But I'm afraid the Faye do not have the luxury of growing a second pair of wings, nor do I think Takardh could grow back his hind legs were they to be amputated." She moved closer to her intended then, somewhat thankful for the courage his size and reputation gave her.

"Your kind has a beautiful courtship ritual. I hope you have not been misled, my lords, but Takardh and I have not decided upon our marriage arrangements yet, and marriage is not on our agenda while visiting your homelands. There is also not enough time for us to dedicate ourselves to such arrangements." She smiled bashfully at the council. "I am ashamed to admit my ignorance of the world, but this is the first time I have been away from my people. A month took enough negotiation amongst the Faye council to agree; I do not like my chances of asking for an entire year." 

The Seraph council all stood in a single fluid motion and tension grew thick in the air. Eriathiel squeezed Takardh's hand tighter then, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She was suddenly very aware of how outnumbered they were, and how very easy it would be to destroy three kingdoms in a single sweeping motion.

"No matter what happens, don't fight it," she whispered to Takardh. "All things are conquerable but death."

A slender, blonde Seraph flittered down from her perch to stand a few meters before them. "Oh, we have no plans for you to marry amongst us, little Faye. But you will be tested, for your people are not the only ones who doubt your capabilities as future leaders of a free nation."





(Didn't know if you had something planed or not, so I figured I'd leave the next bit up to you. x Feel free to skip ahead a bit and such if need be. :3 x )

"I suppose pride is a good enough word." Eriathiel offered, "But I believe it is our sense of entitlement that truly began our futile squabbling." She tested them, waiting to be cut off like her intended. But the Faye and the Seraph always seemed to intrigue one another. Perhaps it was their scholarly persuasions. "The Western nations are not meant to be divided from one another, and they are not meant to be owned by ruling bodies. We have come to realize our people's prosperity outweighs our own ambitions, and we are dreadful sorry for the stiff we must have caused your capitol." Eriathiel touched Takardh's hand and took it in her own, a show of their mutual intent. She wished to tell him not to take offense to the Seraphim's badgering. It was not conduct she was used to, of course, but royalty among many races had become less versed in the ways of politics and polite conversation. She hoped his pride had not been marred too much by their thoughtlessness.

"Neutrality seems to have served us well, Eriathiel. Perhaps your parents could have taken a lesson or two from us. But to listen to any others opinion was never much your father's forte." Said one of the younger, more brash Seraph.

Eriathiel smiled at the council, showing she was unfazed by their insults. Humility in the face of aggravation: one of the many rules of polite political discussion. "My father's short comings are hardly my own, Sir Seraph. I would hope wise persons do not confine me to the image my father has built." She turned her attention on the others then. "We have come because the high council was gracious enough to invite us here, as their guests. Takardh and I have traveled to your home to discuss our marriage. It is our fondest wish to simply share in a small part of your peaceful land before making a decision that affects the future of our nations. I would have believed the Seraph to be proud of such an accomplishment. Truly, your welcome has caused a ripped of admiration amongst our people. Your charity will not be forgotten quickly, I can assure you."

She bowed before them, a small fluttering of her skirt as she extended her right arm out to the side. "Takardh and I are simply honored by your offer of aid in these turbulent times." She stood up straighter then, "Perhaps, if your majesties would like, you would send for your traders and state treasurers. My father bid me bring Elementalists to strengthen your crops, and royals to discuss trade agreements now that a truce has been called."

Two elder Seraphim, one who had berated Takardh and one who had remained silent looked at one another.

The one who had yet to spoke nodded and looked to our guide, "Mikael, send for them, and the farmers too." Mikael nodded and fluttered off to do their business.

"Taking orders from a butterfly now are you, Urithine?" came the voice of the less amiable Seraph.

Urithine smiled kindly at her fellow Councilman. "I am always willing to head the call of a young woman visiting our lands, Gallius."

Eriathiel laughed, "You flatter me, Urithine." She smiled at her intended then, and leaned in close enough for only he to hear her whisper, "No what was that about muscle and paperwork?"

"Then tell me what to do. If my 1000 years of exile are not enough, whatever will be? What will make you love me?" Uriel looked down at her entwined hands then and rested her head against one of the metal beams. "You know, you talk about how unfair I've been to you. But in that one night I spent with Donavon, he looked at me in a way you never have. He looked at me as if I was the only creature alive worth his attention. When he looked at me, I felt loved Gabriel." She looked at him then, "You have never so much as held me in your arms, Gabriel. How did you expect me to stay faithful when I went completely ignored under your gaze?" She shook the thought from her mind.

"Then forgive me!" She shouted. "If you can't..." Uriel stopped to steady her voice, "If you cannot find it in your heart to forgive me, I can see no way to make amends for my sins... If you can't forgive me then our forever has already ended."

"I'm quite skilled with a bow actually." She said with a smile, happy to have found a commonality between them. "But I find hand to hand combat does not agree with me," she laughed and held up there entwined hands, "With only a sword, I am hardly a threat to any of your warriors." Eriathiel sighed, "I suppose I am simply lucky my kind are born with other means of waging war, though I hope such talents will become of little use in our future." She turned his hand and held it face up towards him, "If it would please you, in time, I could teach you to hold fire in your hands without being burned. The forges in Lumaria can teach your people to make armor as strong as diamonds and flexible as fabric. But I am sure that will be as far as my battle knowledge will go."

They had come to the palace then, and Eriathiel silently dismounted her horse. She patted her horse's side and handed the reins off to one of her guards. "Your entourage will have to wait here, I'm afraid." Mikael informed her.

Eriathiel nodded, "I guessed as such."

Alaan came to stand beside her then, his amber speckled eyes narrowed at the thought. "Eriathiel, I do not think it wise to let you alone in a land with which you have little familiarity. Your guards should accompany you."

Eriathiel smiled kindly at Alaan, and cupped the side of his face. "It brings me comfort to hear your concerns, Alaan. But I am sure the people of this land mean me no harm. Takardh will be with me, and my fires will keep me safe. While we are guests here, we must be mindful of their customs, no matter how deeply they disagree with us. You should not worry so much." She turned then to stand beside Takardh then, and offered him her hand. "Time to begin the diplomatic side of our duties, I suppose. Are you ready?"

"I hate that," Jessamine sighed, "Is it just me, or is there not a single race on earth without its prejudice's?" She paused for a moment, "Wait." Jessamine looked up at Jason with wide eyes, "Did you say 'Demons'? As in, like, religious mythology? Please don't tell me I've been betting on the wrong horse all these years."

Jessamine blushed and ran her fingers across the little wounds on her neck. "I hadn't thought about that actually..." she said, "Becoming a vampire, I mean." She looked down at her food and pushed a couple peas across the plate. "I don't think... I don't think it's something I'll have to think about anytime soon though. I mean... umm," she laughed at her awkward thoughts and smiled at her friend, "Being human's good enough for me right now. Even If he offered, I don't think I'd be, umm... ready... to make that kind of decision, I mean."


(I caved, and I hate you. -.- Go write my reply damn it!!!)

Yllaonna paused after hearing his offer and pursed her lips. It was true; archers had come in handy for her before, and there were always numerous traps within Dwemer ruins. Perhaps, maybe, his presence would carry some significance along her travels. She turned more so towards him, arms crossed, eyes cold and analytical. She made a slight show of examining his form, as if his physical appearance could hint at if not determine his overall worth. "I suppose there's no harm in bringing along a second target," she mumbled to herself beneath a chuckle. Yllaonna turned from him then, drained the last of her meade and tossed it into a small river boat below. "Alright Thoron, we have deal. Meet me at the stables by dawn and come dressed in simple clothing. Don't think I won't leave without you if you're late."

She left him there by the railing and went back inside the inn. It was strange, but Yllaonna had yet to deny the help of a companion, whether she truly needed their help or not. That said, she was not so arrogant as to think this quest would be without its difficulties. She may not have always been a fan of conversation, but the company was nice. Having another breathing body nearby that did not intend you immediate harm often brought her a small measure of comfort. In Skyrim, one does not deny comfort when such things are in short supply.

Yllaonna climbed the stairs and entered her room, locking the door firmly behind her. Slowly, she peeled the heavy steel armor from her body, setting it inside the wardrobe at the foot of her bed. Once she climbed beneath the covers she was bare for all but the daggers strapped to her wrists and the poisoned ebony sword beneath her pillow. Hopefully, she would not be disturbed. The last thing Yllaonna needed was a bounty in Riften for murdering an innocent civilian.

Thank you Tako! :3 <3

I am so sorry i didnt see that earlier! I will save it for you hunni. Go ahead and write a bio for the thread :3 <3

Forsaken needs a like button so i can like all the sexy people in here :3 <3

She cocked her eyebrow as Thoron stood in silence, she watched as he edged his way to the bar through the drunk and sloppy patrons and retrieved two bottles of Meade. She pursed her lips as he walked away, contemplating whether or not she really wanted to give up her rather comfy and secluded corner of the bar. Yllaonna sighed and stood. She wadded her way through the crowed, hand on her coin purse to deter any pickpockets lingering about the place, and made her way outside. She found him leaning against the railing and took the bottle of mead he had opened for her. She felt more comfortable outdoors, and though she would have preferred to take a bed of skins out into the dark and sleep beneath the stars, she supposed a locked room within an inn would be a much missed luxury by the time she returned.

She turned her attention to Thoron when he spoke and turned her gaze to the stars, taking a deep gulp of her Mead before speaking. "I am sure you have heard the Bards songs of an artifact able to right the wrongs done by Oblivion's dark magic and Nchylam's insanity. While in Whiterun, I found parchment that pinpoints its location. I simply intend to find it and sneak my way into Winterhold, close the portal and liberate Nchylam of his insanity." Yllaonna had other plans for the artifact as well, but of course, none she yet intended to share with a perfect stranger. "My father lived in Winterhold when the rift was opened. I have not heard from him since." She told him, "Once I have found the artifact I will seek my father out first. I assume he has been infected along with all Winterhold's inhabitants by the rifts darker influences. I was born to Winterhold, but I left shortly after I came of age. My father knows how to navigate the city undetected far better than I."

She drank from her bottle and sighed at the warmth it spread through her body. "What of your travels, Thoron? What brings you to Riften now that it has fallen into the hands of thieves and seductresses? Or is that exactly the reason why you have come here?" Yllaonna laughed and returned her attention to the bright night sky, smiling softly (or at least, as softly as Yllaonna ever did smile) up at them. "At least Talos must be pleased with my decision to look for such a thing."

She smirked and grasped his gauntlet in greeting. "Thoron" She repeated, "I am Yllaonna." Again, he had surprised her, both knowing and offering the proper greeting to a Nord. Few these days seemed versed or cared for the greetings of other, it made her think perhaps he was accustomed to dealing with her kind, if not indeed many others beyond his own.

"I am merely here for the night," she told him, "Talen-Jei has offered me a bed for the night before I head off on my quest." She chuckled to herself, "I doubt he thinks I will return." She was not sure whether to be displeased with him for having such little faith in her abilities, or simply understanding of his weak hearted fears. Perhaps what annoyed her most was that Talen-Jei's father had known the Dragonborn, and though supposedly respected all that he had done, disliked the man personally. Any creature who could disrespect Skyrim's savior was of no worth to Yllaonna, though she would respect the friendship he seemed to have with her father.

It was aggravating, if nothing else, to see her fellow Nords swear their fealty to men and ships when their only loyalty should be to family, homeland and brotherhood. She felt as if her father's lessons were an alien concept to the rest of the world, staring at the men and woman who should be her blood brothers and feeling nothing but rage and disappointment in them. She watched, pensive as a Nord woman of marrying age swaggered through the crowds, using her body to lure in the men around her. Was that how men judge beauty these days: by the amount of flesh one was willing to display, and the ease at which they could be taken? Yllaonna watched and frowned as another Nord intoxicated with mead grabbed at her and devoured her mouth. She was grateful for heeding her father's warning. Never trust a man outside the battle field; it would only end in distraction and disappointment.

Yllaonna sneered at the Nord couple, "Despicable." She wondered, for the briefest of moments, what Wood Elves found attractive. But she brushed the thought aside, unwilling to focus on such things when more pressing matters were on her mind.

She shrugged, "It doesn't matter, I know now, and you know I'm not going to turn my back on your for it. You can't help what you are anymore than I can control how tall I am." She laughed, "We all get given a mixed bag of traits. I'm just glad I know the one you were hiding now."

She settled back in her chair. "The boys are werewolves too, aren't they? The ones you go camping with every month, anyway." She sighed, "is there are reason why werewolves and vampires hate each other? I mean, even in movies they always hate each other. But you're all trying to hide yourself aren't you? Why wouldn't you be working together rather than, well, harboring your hatred."

Jessamine smiled at him, "Jason, if I end up in a hospital bed by Richards's hand, I give you permission to slap me." She held out her hand to him, pinky extended, "Pinky promise, because we both know that shits legit."

She laughed, "You were about to call me a whore weren't you?" she grinned at him, "You were trying to show me something I didn't know about you Richard... don't apologize for being honest with me. I'm just sorry I freaked out on you and ran away. You must think I'm a total coward." She laughed and leaned back in her chair. "I think we should just wait these things out. No action is without its consequence. But I'm ready to deal with mine when they come for me. I have you and Richard. How much more protected could I hope to be?"

"I don't know what he didn't Jason, and to be honest, I don't really care. He's here, Jason... and he's promised he won't ever leave me again. I intend to trust him on that much..." She laughed, stood and kissed his forehead. "You'll give yourself ulcers if you keep worrying about me so much. I'm a big girl Jason; I can take care of my own problems, whatever it is they may be."

She left him at the table and went back to the kitchen. "How hungry are you?" she asked, "Wait, never mind. I know your stomach Jason; you could eat the whole damn thing if I let you." Jessamine giggled as she dished them each up a plate, and smile at the almost frightening difference in size. Then again, one could simply glance at their physical appearance and know they were... well, fitting.

She sighed and went to him, cupped the side of his face in her hand. "Jason, sit down for a minute and shut up." She sat across from him, momentarily forgetting about the food. "You were there for me when I needed someone to take care of me. But didn't you ever wonder why I'm still alive? Why that psycho bastard didn't just drain me dry and leave me for dead?" she took his hands in her own. "You remember how I used to have nightmares? And I'd go from screaming and thrashing around in the bed to being silent in my sleep?" she smiled, "I knew who Richard was the moment I saw his face Jason. He was the one who got me out of there, who killed his own brother to save me, even broken as I was..." she kissed his hands then and stared at them. "You're my friend, Jason, and I owe you more than that. But I'm in love with Richard, and I'm selfish enough to know that love is not something I should just give up on."

"I'm just feeling a bit sick, that's all Jason. I needed to sleep it off, that's all." She walked into the Kitchen and set about retrieving plates, utensils and their dinner. She sighed at his words, and faced him for a moment. "Jason, don't make me feel like an asshole. I appreciate your concern, but there is nothing to worry about. You're just being... paranoid. I'm perfectly safe."

Jessamine retrieved the pot-roast out of the oven and slammed it down on the bench. She put her hands on his hips and frowned at her childhood friend, "For someone who was more than content to treat me like one of the guys a few weeks ago, your coming on awfully strong, you know that Jason? How do you know, without a doubt, that I belong with you Jason? You seem perfectly concerned with what you consider to be yours, but completely oblivious to what I want." She turned her back on him, sighed and attempted to calm herself before returning to the food.

Jessamine had woke in the late hours and was currently out back, doing a bit of last minute gardening she had intended on getting to months ago. She hadn't heard Jason pull up, and it was not until he banged against Richards door that she pocked around the corner of the house to see him.
   
"Jason, what the hell are you doing? Richards's asleep right now." She sighed and took off her gardening gloves, "Dinners in the oven, I figured you would have smelt the pot roast from here." Apparently, she'd overestimated his abilities. Jessamine took off her hat and thick woolen jumper. It was warm, hence the tank top and shorts beneath, but Jessamine had no intention to let Jason see her covered in dirt and plant residue. She moved to the front of the house and opened the door, assuming Jason would simply follow her inside should he wish to. She set her things down on top of the washing machine and took off her shoes. "How was your day?" she asked. True, it was a cliché starting point, but Jessamine couldn't see a more polite way to begin things...

Jessamine did not speak, merely sighed and curled in against him, her eyelids heavy as she lay a small trail of butterfly kisses over her chest. She smiled and let her fingers play along his chest as sleep took her, a silent surrender to her lovers request and her body's needs. "I love you Richard," she whispered against his chest. And with that, sleep took her into its warm and calming embrace.

Jessamine was content beneath him, body warm and taught; ready to conform to whatever it was he wanted, but happy to sleep should he will it. She laid beneath him, quiet, grinning at his words. It was not the words she found important, it was that he knew she felt for him that was important. She wanted Richard to know the depths of her devotion, her desire to be his and shout it from the roof top, for all to see his mark on her, her pride in it...

She kissed him back, his mouth crushing down on hers, making her moan out against him.  She giggled as he threw her down on the bed, body sore, eyes tired, soul unwilling to let this end just yet... "I don't think words do justice to the feeling anymore..." she whispered, "I love you more than I ever hoped possible." She stretched her neck upwards to kiss his lips, nibbling on his lower one and swirling her tongue around his mouth, tasting her blood and other things still lingering in his saliva.