Ice Island 8
Title: Ice Island pt 8
Rating: PG
Words: 1278
Weeks they spent on the Lake after that. Arthur spoke to no one, seeming to lose his voice as though he had never uttered the words that set him on this awful journey. In secret, he spoke more than ever, muttering spells and curses with a fervency and urgency as a mage whose neck was bared to an enemy knight's. He spoke at dusk, commanding green fire to lick up his arms. He spoke at the moon's zenith, grasping moonlight as though they were beams of wood. He spoke at dawn, igniting runes to shape and remake his closet of a room so that it was as large as the great hall. He even spoke during the daylight hours, when everyone else was asleep, commanding the black waters of the Endless Lake to rise and fall around the frail barges like walls sliding up around them.
No more would he suffer such humiliation. Never again would he give anyone the opportunity to doubt him.
As it was, the journey was taking such time that he found his abilities steadily increasing. Meanwhile, his lady mother's patience was steadily simmering away as the voyage grew longer and longer.
"The Lake, it is a fickle thing, milady," the navigator explained repeatedly, the nervous wringing of his hands growing ever more desperate as time passed. "One can never truly predict..." His words were always met with his lady mother's and her closest Knight's darkest glares. The young heir rather pitied the navigator as he spied on his his lady mother's councils.
As much as Arthur appreciated the extra practice time, even he was beginning to grow restless. He could see his own agitation reflected in those of the Knights and squires who lounged on top of the deck. They no longer cared to taunt the Lake's inhabitants, taking to cursing the waters instead. The merest disagreement was apt to turn into a frenzied fistfight. Fae were never meant to stay cooped up on such a small vessel for so long, with their scenery never changing - the Lake's waters spreading out all around them like an ocean.
When it seemed that they were finally at their wits' end, as suddenly as running up to the edge of a cliff, their barges reached the delta that flowed into the Riverlands. Arthur never thought he would be so happy at the sight of mud, but he reveled in it as their barge made its way up the wide, winding rivers filled with sweet scented lilies and tall cotton reeds with thick muddy banks where the crocodiles took to napping. For the first time in months, the party slept on land, camping out on the slips of land between the snaking rivers. Arthur remained in his room, now rooms from his runework, practicing his magic where no one could see.
"Arthur," he heard. His lady mother. Of course. Everyone else called him Young Master Arthur.
The faeling's lips drew into a thin line as he shut his book and sliced the rune on the wall apart so that the glamours of stone walls and far reaching rooms evaporated like incense smoke, invisible but the scent of magic still lingering in the air. He slid off his cot to see what his lady mother wanted.
Passing through her bedchamber, Arthur entered the council room where all the meetings took place. A brazier sat in the center of it, equidistant from all sides of the chamber, casting the occupants' dancing shadows over the black silk walls. His lady mother was laying on her usual lounge cushion on the floor, attending to two fae that Arthur had never seen before. Both stood courteously, with House colors of gold and green that Arthur quickly recognized as belonging to the the Baron of Yonder, Lord Siddhi, who presided over the Forest of Yonder where much of the fighting of this war had been taking place. He highly doubted either of them was actually the baron, but were more likely emissaries.
"Ah, here he is," his lady mother said, beckoning her heir nearer. "This is my youngest son, Arthur." She did not introduce him as her heir. It was an unwise practice in the Night Court. "Arthur, say hello."
Obediently, the young faeling gave a shallow bow, keeping his eyes trained on the two visitors. "We bid you welcome," he said, his voice confident from his secret practice. They rewarded him with deeper bows, as expected. Neither of them were of higher rank than he.
"Charming boy," the lither one said, turning back to his lady mother. "Young Masters Aeden and Jago will be so glad for a companion when your party joins up with ours."
Lord Siddhi's sons, Arthur presumed, growing intrigued. Were either of them his age? Maybe... maybe he would have someone to talk to at last. At least for a little while.
"I am surprised that you'll be leaving him as hostage when our House's territorial situation is so precarious."
It took all of Arthur's training not to start at that. Even so, his mouth twitched, betraying the cold rush of disbelief that ran through him. He was not going to the battlefield after all? After all the work he put into refining his skills, making himself more able to meet his enemies in battle, being dragged out of his home on this night-forsaken voyage, he was to be given as hostage to some lower House? Part of him was relieved at that - a part he quickly squashed under the side of him that was nearly murderous in indignation.
"It will be good for him," his lady mother said with an indulgent smile, clearly ignoring the way the faeling's features were growing more mutinous. "I fear that he has been far too sheltered by his stay in my castle. It is so very isolated after all. Now, I expect that we shall meet with the main force of your party at week's end. I look forward to seeing dear Lord Siddhi again."
"He expresses such as well, Lady Annowre. Until tomorrow." Both fae bowed, their gold and green cloaks whispering behind them as they turned to exit the council chamber.
Once they were safely aways, Arthur whipped around to his lady mother, silently waiting to see if she would speak to this atrocity. She eyed him, her green eyes flickering with wicked delight at his visible outrage. "You really are darling when you look like that," she crooned as she picked up a blood-berry from a bronze tray laying beside her and took a delicate bite.
That hardly reassured Arthur in the slightest, though he fought to smooth out the vexation on his face if only to spite her.
"Do not worry yourself. I have an important task for you when you reach Lord Siddhi's residence." Her hand raised and waved him off as though she were shooing away a pestering fly. "Now off to bed with you."
Sullenly, the faeling obeyed, giving his lady mother one brief glance over his shoulder, before he returned to his own chamber via hers. Once safely tucked in his small corner, Arthur stood and stared out at the confining silk walls. Now that he was alone, he had to wonder what task his lady mother would set out for him while in the Baron of Yonder's captivity. Did she have this in mind when she took him from his home or was it some whim that she dreamed up on the maddening voyage to get this far? Arthur knew he would probably never find out, so he climbed back into his cot and resigned himself back to his studies.
Rating: PG
Words: 1278
Weeks they spent on the Lake after that. Arthur spoke to no one, seeming to lose his voice as though he had never uttered the words that set him on this awful journey. In secret, he spoke more than ever, muttering spells and curses with a fervency and urgency as a mage whose neck was bared to an enemy knight's. He spoke at dusk, commanding green fire to lick up his arms. He spoke at the moon's zenith, grasping moonlight as though they were beams of wood. He spoke at dawn, igniting runes to shape and remake his closet of a room so that it was as large as the great hall. He even spoke during the daylight hours, when everyone else was asleep, commanding the black waters of the Endless Lake to rise and fall around the frail barges like walls sliding up around them.
No more would he suffer such humiliation. Never again would he give anyone the opportunity to doubt him.
As it was, the journey was taking such time that he found his abilities steadily increasing. Meanwhile, his lady mother's patience was steadily simmering away as the voyage grew longer and longer.
"The Lake, it is a fickle thing, milady," the navigator explained repeatedly, the nervous wringing of his hands growing ever more desperate as time passed. "One can never truly predict..." His words were always met with his lady mother's and her closest Knight's darkest glares. The young heir rather pitied the navigator as he spied on his his lady mother's councils.
As much as Arthur appreciated the extra practice time, even he was beginning to grow restless. He could see his own agitation reflected in those of the Knights and squires who lounged on top of the deck. They no longer cared to taunt the Lake's inhabitants, taking to cursing the waters instead. The merest disagreement was apt to turn into a frenzied fistfight. Fae were never meant to stay cooped up on such a small vessel for so long, with their scenery never changing - the Lake's waters spreading out all around them like an ocean.
When it seemed that they were finally at their wits' end, as suddenly as running up to the edge of a cliff, their barges reached the delta that flowed into the Riverlands. Arthur never thought he would be so happy at the sight of mud, but he reveled in it as their barge made its way up the wide, winding rivers filled with sweet scented lilies and tall cotton reeds with thick muddy banks where the crocodiles took to napping. For the first time in months, the party slept on land, camping out on the slips of land between the snaking rivers. Arthur remained in his room, now rooms from his runework, practicing his magic where no one could see.
"Arthur," he heard. His lady mother. Of course. Everyone else called him Young Master Arthur.
The faeling's lips drew into a thin line as he shut his book and sliced the rune on the wall apart so that the glamours of stone walls and far reaching rooms evaporated like incense smoke, invisible but the scent of magic still lingering in the air. He slid off his cot to see what his lady mother wanted.
Passing through her bedchamber, Arthur entered the council room where all the meetings took place. A brazier sat in the center of it, equidistant from all sides of the chamber, casting the occupants' dancing shadows over the black silk walls. His lady mother was laying on her usual lounge cushion on the floor, attending to two fae that Arthur had never seen before. Both stood courteously, with House colors of gold and green that Arthur quickly recognized as belonging to the the Baron of Yonder, Lord Siddhi, who presided over the Forest of Yonder where much of the fighting of this war had been taking place. He highly doubted either of them was actually the baron, but were more likely emissaries.
"Ah, here he is," his lady mother said, beckoning her heir nearer. "This is my youngest son, Arthur." She did not introduce him as her heir. It was an unwise practice in the Night Court. "Arthur, say hello."
Obediently, the young faeling gave a shallow bow, keeping his eyes trained on the two visitors. "We bid you welcome," he said, his voice confident from his secret practice. They rewarded him with deeper bows, as expected. Neither of them were of higher rank than he.
"Charming boy," the lither one said, turning back to his lady mother. "Young Masters Aeden and Jago will be so glad for a companion when your party joins up with ours."
Lord Siddhi's sons, Arthur presumed, growing intrigued. Were either of them his age? Maybe... maybe he would have someone to talk to at last. At least for a little while.
"I am surprised that you'll be leaving him as hostage when our House's territorial situation is so precarious."
It took all of Arthur's training not to start at that. Even so, his mouth twitched, betraying the cold rush of disbelief that ran through him. He was not going to the battlefield after all? After all the work he put into refining his skills, making himself more able to meet his enemies in battle, being dragged out of his home on this night-forsaken voyage, he was to be given as hostage to some lower House? Part of him was relieved at that - a part he quickly squashed under the side of him that was nearly murderous in indignation.
"It will be good for him," his lady mother said with an indulgent smile, clearly ignoring the way the faeling's features were growing more mutinous. "I fear that he has been far too sheltered by his stay in my castle. It is so very isolated after all. Now, I expect that we shall meet with the main force of your party at week's end. I look forward to seeing dear Lord Siddhi again."
"He expresses such as well, Lady Annowre. Until tomorrow." Both fae bowed, their gold and green cloaks whispering behind them as they turned to exit the council chamber.
Once they were safely aways, Arthur whipped around to his lady mother, silently waiting to see if she would speak to this atrocity. She eyed him, her green eyes flickering with wicked delight at his visible outrage. "You really are darling when you look like that," she crooned as she picked up a blood-berry from a bronze tray laying beside her and took a delicate bite.
That hardly reassured Arthur in the slightest, though he fought to smooth out the vexation on his face if only to spite her.
"Do not worry yourself. I have an important task for you when you reach Lord Siddhi's residence." Her hand raised and waved him off as though she were shooing away a pestering fly. "Now off to bed with you."
Sullenly, the faeling obeyed, giving his lady mother one brief glance over his shoulder, before he returned to his own chamber via hers. Once safely tucked in his small corner, Arthur stood and stared out at the confining silk walls. Now that he was alone, he had to wonder what task his lady mother would set out for him while in the Baron of Yonder's captivity. Did she have this in mind when she took him from his home or was it some whim that she dreamed up on the maddening voyage to get this far? Arthur knew he would probably never find out, so he climbed back into his cot and resigned himself back to his studies.