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erebos_dotcom in deities_dot_com

OTHERS

Feb 16, 2006 13:58

One as ancient as he should have known better than to take any skill for granted. There were always twists and turns that never could be smoothed, except by a master's hand. And a master's hand hardly ever faltered (even with the most difficult of tasks), so their craft seemed seamless and easy ( Read more... )

erebos, brighid

Comments 14

brighid_dot_com February 16 2006, 20:47:56 UTC

It was Grainne who opened the door, her dark eyes bright, and her cheeks full of laughter at some joke still being appreciated by the girls in the great hall. She sobered at the sight of the very tall, very dark God on her Lady's threshold, but only a little.

"Welcome you are, my Lord," the Maiden said with a curtsey, holding up the steaming guest cup to him. "Will you come in from the cold and share of My Lady's HearthFire?"

erebos_dotcom February 16 2006, 20:54:36 UTC

"I thank you," he said, and stepped over the threshold. A bit of divine influence allowed him the ability to balance the bundle in one arm and accept that cup with his now-free hand. It seemed the thing to drink, so he did, before passing it back to the girl who answered the door. Belatedly, he realized that he should have paid more attention to the customs of the celts before visiting.

There was something about her that reminded him of his own Cloey. The beginnings of a smile sparked in his eyes. Of course, it never made it to his face.

He followed the maiden in silence.

brighid_dot_com February 16 2006, 21:07:22 UTC

"Trieste, you and Emer get the Lord a chair. Enye, fetch the velvet robes down, there's a chill on. Dona, take Meghan and Saille to the kitchens now, and be quick about it," she called, and the other girls hurried to obey. "Taless, Branwen, Maeve, play for the Gentleman while I go and tell our Lady that she's a waiting guest."

The girl turned suddenly, bowing to the dark God, and gesturing to a low, round thronelike chair that had been pulled up to one side of the blazing fireplace. It was draped with thick, soft furs, and a little girl of perhaps ten stood just by, arms piled high with masses of black velvet. In the corner behind the hearth, three girls took up their instruments -- one a harp, one a violin, and one a flute -- and began to play a gently lilting tune. "Who shall I tell her has come, My Lord?" she asked.

erebos_dotcom February 16 2006, 21:38:12 UTC

He had opened his mouth to interrupt - Erebos had no need for comforts, and cold had never affected him much - but then he laid eyes on the little girl by the massive chair they pulled out for him ( ... )

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