Those coal colored eyes merely looked her over...they sparkled as they reflected the lamp light, tinged with something akin to humor. His physique had not changed one iota over the many years, in fact he had grown even more graceful. He crossed his arms over his chest, the motion so smooth that to mortals he seemed unnatural, to an immortal it would only seem natural. Lips curled a moment at the corners of his mouth as that infamous roguish grin threatened.

His voice was laced with the same humor as his eyes as he replied. "My point exactly Alysia. You don't have to be mother to the child. I am not asking that. I think it spending a few months in your uterus will infuse it with a proper attitude it will need if I am to name it heir. It seems I tend to breed less than worthy children so it seems. They never seem to survive much beyond childhood. As to where I got the fetus? I stole her from an Elven female enchanter. She wasn't very cooperative. I had to wipe certain parts of her memory. " This was said with a soft chuckle. He had entertained the idea of replacing the fetus with another fetus of Dwarvish descent, however had a momentary streak of niceness. Or something like that.

He leaned back against a wall, still gazing upon his former idol and once mentor. "If you do humor me Alysia, and wish recompense, just let me know what it is you desire and I will do my best to procure it. "

"Gods and demons." The chuckle was noted and considered, and for a moment, Alysia was certain he was joking. He seemed awfully serious, though, and he had always taken his own heirs very seriously. So, she took him at face value for the time being. "Recompense? You insult me, Tristan. You should recall how I feel about mercenaries. My body is not for hire. There are plenty of half-succubus whores willing to rent their wombs out for a few months, if offered recompense for such an ungainly inconvenience."

"I will not speculate why you have not found yourself a proper bride to birth your heir. And I cannot fathom why would you want the taint of Skye blood upon your would-be heir, so many years after you chose to sever yourself from my Bloodline. Perhaps you might explain that." Alysia regarded him with an uptilted chin, crimson eyes holding that familiar coal gaze. A flurry of snow blew across the street, then she tapped her own fingertips against her belly, smiling faintly. Cold as the snow. "A place of death is a dangerous place to put your heir."

"Alysia, I meant no offense. I certainly didn't mean money. I am sure you have gained plenty over the years. I will say this though: sometimes its nice to be owed favors. They can come in handy. I had named Aerich heir, however he died at the hands of Lord Haze years ago, and quite deserved it. Brides are overrated. The last bride I took...took up with some distasteful self proclaimed gods whom attempted to destroy my holdings. They did not succeed. She ended up as dead as they did. " He would say no more on that subject. Those coals seemed drawn a moment as her fingertips tapped against her belly. His grin widened a moment. As the breeze blew that flurry of snow, those long dark locks streaked with silvery blonde, blew as well a bit to one side.

"I should think you should be relieved I don't ask to make a direct deposit. Alysia, I didn't want severance from the Skye Blood. That was your wish. I can't say I didn't understand why. I was quite young with a bit of power at my fingertips. Such things can make one make bad decisions. I don't see a taint in your bloodline Alysia. The girl will rule Shadar and my holdings in Hell, the same ones bequeathed to me by Glenn. I don't want her to be like me per se. I just wish to ensure that she will not ever see the light side of the realm as anything but dangerous to her existence."

The Hell Lord rocked back on his feet as he heard the news about Emma. She had been his favorite person to hate. He blinked those beautiful black eyes of his as he considered that news, then those eyes found hers, thought process going along the lines of so what if she is beautiful, she bites. Then, his voice manifested itself for her ears alone. "Too bad about Ms Frost. Rhydin is weak. It makes it hard to exist. Hence the feeling I should probably have an heir. I would not wish some weak willed female type to mis-nurture the baby. "

The smile she offered was more indicative of her true hell-spawned nature than of her usual demeanor, that of the pale and serene Priestess. "Mis-nurture. . ." She mused. Weak-willed. . . "You seem confident that your trust in my nurturing nature is not misplaced, Tristan. In the years that you have been gone, I have tried to kill all of my own offspring, and succeeded with all but one, and would be mortal and barren but for the gift of a God." She smirked. There were memories there, again, which she did not divulge willingly. Alysia offered an arch little smile. "Let it suffice to say that I have learned much with time. But that's to be expected, isn't it? How upset will you be if your heir dies? For that is always a possibility."

The slight blush was noted Perhaps it was only he whom could see the slight rush of blood to those pale cheeks. He wasn't rude enough to give voice to that notation...he was so close to her...so he took a step back...before bothering to respond. His voice kept the soft rasp... this was one person he wouldn't even try to kill. She had given him so much over the years. The time had been short, and the Hell Lord puh'd a moment. "You won't kill the child Alysia. You have just enough mother in you... Besides you raised me properly. Just like a rock star. The rise and fall of both our dreams. Question. You have not addressed the fact that you threw me out of your bloodline. I didn't leave willingly. " Two demons materialized, whimpering their chagrin at their lateness. Their forms just out of eyesight...they hissed and buzzed nearby.

This conversation, this encounter -- it just got stranger and stranger. And he would think to question her, of course. "Perhaps," she began, "I found you lacking for my Bloodline. " Fire-red eyes flickered at the sound of demons hissing and unseen. "As I recall, at the time, you seemed more focused upon your own dynasty than mine. My recollection could be faulty. It could have just as easily been. . . a whim."

"You were never a whim Alysia. I did what I did because I could. Nothing more. I certainly do not lack in these trying times. I could not compliment you more than I do with this request. " Gads, but those eyes captured his gaze...just like under a mountain, her fired reds seemed to melt properly with his coals. He hesitated a moment, from moving towards or away from her.

In time the Hell Lord crossed a couple of realms to touch hers, intending she would speak this day of her decision. A weakened Spawn the griffin made a wrecked landing. Tris stepped off his back and set feet to earth. With a small smile the demoness was captured by coal colored eyes alone. Quietly, he said, "Alysia. You have a decision to make."

"Indeed. Yet the decision, Tristan, is not mine alone to make." She looked up from the map she studied, regarding the half-elf's features with a cool smile and crimson eyes. The map, depicting the northern reaches of the realm, was rolled and replaced in a case. Alysia explained, "There are others who would be affected by a change in my circumstances. There are risks you could not comprehend, as long as you have been absent from my circle."

"Its a good thing I am not in your circle. I might have turned out distantly..This is a simple trans action...no repurcussions unless the realm wants one. This isn't about whom ties their shoes tightest. Its pure survival and if your weakening by living a different realm...you still have that responsibility."

"Responsibility. . . who are you, to insinuate that I shirk my responsibilities?" This was said rather hotly, with her eyes dark and flashing in anger. "I've sacrificed my own bloodline and alienated my own lover for my responsibilities and obligations, Tristan."

"That doesn't quite impress me Alysia. Never give up the bloodline. Die before disaster or something like that. As we spoke I didn't leave your life by my own choice. You did well to raise me as you did..hence the subject." He handed her the warm, incomplete bit of flesh and leaned back against the wall.

"If you must rush for a decision, then, former son of mine, you will not like my choice; I have been counseled against accepting this thing." She held up the thing he had stolen, unmoved, impassive.

"I expected as much. Drop it to your feet and step on it." After a pause, he added, "I never cared about council they always give bad advice. Live and learn Alysia." His body was screaming to call her mother...yet he just lived in hell now a days.

With a hint of a chill smile, she answered. "No, my dear. You thieved it, it is yours to destroy." Alysia leaned forward, setting the living thing on the ground, stepping back into the relative gloom. "I only step on my own."

"You understand the difference correct?" He started fixedly at her pale throat, indulging in a fantasy of setting his fangs to her flesh.

Trust in instincts. . . She saw his purpose clearly now, and was unsurprised that the fetus he'd thieved to proclaim his heir now went ignored in the dust. "The difference in... what?" She stepped aside as he moved closer with an intent gleam in his eyes. Her katana was was drawn, edge pressed to the half-elf's side. " ...that will be enough of that."

Tristan ignored this, managing a taste of her blood as he murmured, "Welcome to the shadows lil one."

She shoved him away. "I was born in the shadows before you were even a lecherous thought in your father's mind," she retorted.

"My father died for you silly." His tongue tip licked at a drop of blood.

"He chose his path of his own free will," smirked Alysia, "and the weak must accept their fate."

Tristan grinned, whispering, "Yes they must."

"I hope you can handle the taste of Chaos burning your veins, boy. It is a heady poison for your kind." She tossed her head, narrow fingertips flicking across her throat, then turned away in annoyance. This game wastes my time.

Tristan's form became barely visible. He merely laughed. He thought he'd gone the distance and more: he had helped make her and himself famous, or infamous. The back of the building holding his form, he pushed off and set eyes upon her a moment before attack.

Alysia turned, making a point of sheathing her katana. Had she known his thoughts, she might have pointed out that her one-time infamy had been achieved without him, indeed even before his father was born. Instead, she merely gave him a withering, disgusted look as he moved to attack her, then disappeared, leaving a flicker of cold blue fire burning where she had stood.

Too predictable, Tristan. You have not changed a bit, former son.