Topic: DarkStar: The Bulezau

Xavril Moonshadow

Date: 2012-02-21 03:46 EST
The half elf, Xavril, was sitting at the head of the bed, wire-rimmed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The book that he read from was parted open with the thumb of one hand, Pablo Neruda once more - Vera had good taste. The other hand softly pet across the trembling shoulder of the fey"ri who lay staring up at him. Her eyes were glassy and far away as the words slid from his tongue. She was sick and his friend, his fey"ri, would be leaving in the morning to be delivered to another one who thought he could heal her. They all claimed they could, but the half elf had no more faith to give. She had been given a sedative after tearing through the halls in a blind rage earlier. He knew. He could smell it on her like an exotic fragrance.

"I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul?"

He had weathered the storm of Irosque's arrival at the manor. He had been berated by the baelnorn for bringing the Ancient into their home. All of this, he had taken with understanding and grace. He had been well-spoken and well-intentioned. He had even stomached the presence of the fey"ri's supposed betrothed, for all of the good that it did. Xavril would never be his friend, not that he would mind. As he sit with his childhood friend curled across him, the half elf continued to read, continued to pass this last few moments before he went to prepare her for the move. He knew. He could feel the trembling and convulsive shiver subsiding.

"I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body."

The fey"ri was hot to the touch and her fever had caused her to slip into delusions over the past day. She had babbled and raged, hissed and fought them as she lost control and one side of her being chewed away at the other. Now her breathing had become ragged and she moaned softly, curling into a far more pugilistic pose. Her muscles were tensing and contracting. The half elf pulled Faerran closer into his lap and continued to pet her hair rhythmically. He knew. He could see it in the palor of her skin as it was graying.

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep."

He looked over the small form and smiled sadly. She had ceased to move now and lay pale and catatonic across the blanket in his lap. Her eyes were the shade of garnets and vacant. She was gone far from this place. He bent down and dropped the book to one side. A kiss was feathered over the height of her cheek and he gathered the slim fey?ri into his arms, rocking slowly. She would live, and so would everyone in contact with her, as long as she was in this state and not allowed to rage. She was consumed now by the induced state, before the bulezau could take her completely - the Gurahl would have his turn to heal her now, with Talis' blessing. But may the gods have mercy on us all, if this didn't work.

He knew. He had designed the sedative.

((written by Faer and Xav's muns. Poetry by Pablo Neruda))

Faerran

Date: 2012-02-23 11:58 EST
It was late when the baelnorn re-entered her home. She left the side of her companion and went immediately to the second floor and hurried down the hallway to look in on the fey"ri. Poor Faerran, her daughter, her baby.

Faer had come out of the catatonic state earlier, only to be administered another sedative and put into a deep sleep. Xavril had left notations of dosage and specifics on the ledger-like book that contained the fey"ri's medical history and treatments.

The lich came to a halt in the doorway and looked over the scene:

The room was decorated as richly as the remainder of the house. Wood carvings and fine antiquities surrounded its occupants, providing visual stimulus at all corners. But those present did not care.

The Ancient, Irosque, had arrived earlier in the night and been admitted without question by the guards " a drastic change from only a day or so ago. Faerran had been awake for brief moments and pulled him close for a weak breath and the chance to know that he was there before sliding back into unconsciousness.

Now, Iros was beneath the covers with the fey"ri trapped against his chest by one burly arm. Talis seriously doubted that he would be allowing Faerran out of his sight any time soon, after their earlier conversation, and that could pose to be a problem once they chose a method of treatment for her.

And now, as she lay in the darkness and dimmed lamplight, the fey"ri was dreaming the pharmacologically-induced images of the sedative's design. One hand clutched possessively at Iros" hip, the other thrown haphazardly outward to an angle.

Talissia smiled sadly, then pulled the door to and headed for her own suite on the third floor.

(written by Tali and Faer's players; permission for inclusion by Iros? player)

Irosque

Date: 2012-02-23 14:00 EST
The arrival of the Ancient had brought questionable emotions at best, the greeting given a huge contrast to the one received the other night. Though he paid no mind to the sudden change, he couldn't help but look over his shoulder. The Ancient was always on his guard, even though gates and guardians openly accepted him. The long hallway was enough to send the man into an anxiety attack, it seemed never ending and he quickened his pace to her room.

The scene taken in by Aryan eyes was most unpleasant, but the expression he bore faltered when the fey'ri awakened just enough to grasp him. He caved in, lifting and cradling her in his lap with soft murmurs of affection whispered against her neck. He steadily rocked her, jaw tensing and eyes pooling with everything he couldn't say to her. He brought her even closer, scooting to the headboard and humming soft melodies of his Ancient world. Sleep would be lost tonight, dull mint greens unable to cease their vision. They continued to stare at her, thumb stroking gently at her cheek. It was hours until he finally gave in to his state of exhaust, tucking them both beneath the covers with his back semi-elevated by pillows.

Though as tired as he was, he watched the baelnorn peek from the hall. And she would be right to assume he wouldn't leave the fey'ri, though whatever could be done for her he would allow as long as he was present. He wouldn't tolerate being away from her anymore, even more the family's involvement in their relationship. Protectively his arm draped around her, an occasional glance stolen every now and then before he leaned his head into the headboard and sighed deeply. Only a few days ago she was fine...only a few days. Maybe the reason he stayed awake was because every minute that ticked by was one he didn't know he would have. Sleep was a luxury he wouldn't allow, not now.