G - Gigi

FebruarOC Day 17: Quin

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Quintheral Rattivan.

Fourth Galactic Imperial Prince, Sun of the Third House, and Holder of the Second Seal.

FebruarOC Day 13: Melody

(Combining with the ockissweek prompt "sunrise")

By the time dawn began to tint the sky in shades of pink and purple, the city had finally quieted, sleep claiming most of its inhabitants. Melody, unfortunately, couldn’t count herself among those lucky enough to catch a few hours of rest that night.

For most of the night, it had been the celebrations that kept her awake. It was only once Ashe had insisted they all go to bed that Melody found sleep evading her. Alone in the silence, the darkness pressed in on her until she felt like she was suffocating, until she had to flee or drown in her own thoughts.

The next few hours were spent wandering the quiet castle corridors until the impending dawn drove her to a secluded balcony where she could watch the sun rise.

Melody let out a long breath as she stared out over the horizon. Even now this didn’t feel quite real, as if she would wake up at any moment and find nothing but shadowed tents and bitter longing on her tongue.

She wondered if any of the others felt the same. She wondered if it would ever stop feeling like a too beautiful dream.

Behind her, the soft click of metal announced the door opening. Melody whirled around, her hand going to her sword that she still carried despite the apparent safety.

Finn held up his hands. “Just me.”

“Finn.” Melody breathed his name in relief, her hand falling from the hilt of her sword as she relaxed. “What are you doing awake at this hour?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Finn said as he crossed the balcony to join her at the railing. “I slept a little, but when I saw it was nearly dawn I thought I’d come out here. It’s been… a long time since I’ve seen the sun rise here. Since either of us have.”

“Over a decade,” Melody sighed.

“Yeah.” Finn studied her for a moment, then slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “By the way,” he murmured, “I heard you wandering around last night, after Ashe sent us to bed.”

“Sorry,” Melody apologized. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… couldn’t stop thinking. And it was too dark in my room, so… I wandered. Until now.”

“Well then,” Finn said. “After the sun rises, you can come with me, and see if you can’t catch a few hours of sleep. After all, I’m sure nobody will begrudge us a late morning.”

“Nobody but Ashe,” Melody pointed out.

“Then Ashe will have to deal with me, if he wants to disturb you before you’re ready,” Finn said, sounding all too sure of himself.

Melody couldn’t help but laugh. “My brave knight.”

“Of course.” Finn paused for a moment, then he gently pressed a kiss to Melody’s hair. “Whatever it takes.”

The first of the sun’s rays crept over the horizon, and Melody felt something in her chest loosen. No matter if this was a dream, if she would wake up tomorrow and find herself back in Calcheth or anywhere else, Finn would be there with her. And so long as they were together, things would be okay.

A - Aithus

I'm late but let's do the February oc thing!

J - Joseph

L - Lloyd

K - Kloe

C - Chaya

E - Edmund Eventone

D - Danny

I - Isaiah

H - Haru

FebruarOC Day 2: Baz

It's him again!

Baz looked over Ilia’s shoulder as his young devotee worked. The books. Again.

Ilia said something under his breath as he carefully wielded needle and cord to sew the signatures together. He wouldn’t recopy any of the old texts into this new one until he had the new tome assembled fully. 

“You’ll ruin your eyes more if you don’t watch the sun or the light levels in here.”

“Go away,” Ilia muttered. “I’m busy.”

“Some people are polite to their gods.”

“Other people didn’t expect a task to take so long or they would’ve done their offerings before starting it.”

So he was paying attention. Baz sank back into the shadows that had started collecting in the room as the sun sank closer to the horizon. He could wait a little longer then. But only a little. Ilia had been slacking as of late, and while much of that might have to do with the Wildling he was engaged to being in the palace, it still didn’t excuse him from following through on his end of their deal.

Using the shadows, Baz slipped out of the room through the window and slid along the wall to the garden below. The Wildling hadn’t been here for very long, but already the garden showed improvement. The trees had thrown out more leaf buds and the flowers were putting out new leaves and flower heads. He often heard the gardeners talking and even as recently as the afternoon they hadn’t figured out if they wanted to curse or praise the seemingly sudden change in fortunes that made the plants more lively.

Once he had assured himself no human was around, or the Wildling, he took his proper form. He didn’t need to breathe, but still he took a deep breath of the orange flower perfumed air. Harboured by the trees he could walk here on his own two feet without one of the other palace dwellers seeing him and screeching before running out to find one of the Chidorian Order to try and eradicate one spot of darkness from a place ruled by light. Or so they thought. He was always gone by then, sequestering himself in Ilia’s study to watch what played out afterwards.

It would be amusing to have that replay again. Especially when no one knew that they would be ruled by child of light soon enough. Not that anyone knew thats what she was. He’d heard most people remark that the Wildlings golden eyes were unusual, but gave few thoughts on why they were like that. Baz thought most people were simply relieved that Ilia was marrying anyone at all.

As amusing as it would be though, he didn’t feel like going through it again. It got a little tiring being himself. It’s why he’d disappeared so long ago until a much younger Ilia had shown up in the temple of the dead god he’d been resting in for the last century or so. The boy, now man, needed him more than Baz desired peace and quiet. Besides. Azaia would rip him apart if he let any of her people come to harm if he could thwart it at all. And he really didn’t want to deal with his sister yet. Especially when she was angry.

The scent of burning herbs interrupted his musing and Baz looked up to see smoke threading its why out into the night air from the study window. By the time he was up at the windowsill to drink in the smoke, he had shifted into a nebulous thing. 

Ilia lit the last of the dishes of herbs and used the long match to light the oil lamps arranged artfully on the offering table with the dishes. “You must have been close by.”

“In the garden,” Baz answered while eyeing the singular peacock feather in the vase that never left the centre of the table. That was more for Ilia and anyone who entered the study. Ilia liked pretty things to look at, and it often soothed others to think that an unknown god who had pretty things among their offerings couldn’t be much harm despite what the teachings of the Chidorian Order said.

“Have you noticed the gardens are doing better?”

“I have. Give it a year and you’ll see the damage from the blight being reversed.”

“And how long until its been eradicated?”

Baz moved to the next dish to drink in its smoke. “Hard to say. The blight has been here for years. It might take that long to get rid of it. Could be longer considering the extent and severity of the damage. But it could also be shorter. The Wildling is young and strong

With a nod of resigned understanding, Ilia looked out the window. “When are you going to call Pippa by her name?”

“When you’ve married her and I’ve met her properly.”

“Lets hope she doesn’t react badly to you then.”

Baz didn’t think she would. In fact, he’d be surprised if she hadn’t figured out that something was hanging around the palace, if not the man she was betrothed to. But he didn’t say anything. Let Ilia figure out how perceptive the Wildling was. It would at the very least provide more amusement than usual for himself.

Maybe after Ilia died he’d attach himself to another human. Or even stay with the family.

He’d forgotten how amusing humans could be.

FebruarOC Day 21: Ulric

A collection of snippets.

Ulric saw dark doorway and pulled Ves in after him. Carefully he pressed her against the wall and shuttered the lantern. With her breath soft and warm on his ear as he kept a hand at her waist, ready to shove her farther away from the door and any possible assailant that might come in, Ulric watched the shadows of the hall. His heartbeat battered his throat as the voices neared. "-should've kicked his head in if you ask me." "You're only saying that because you've never liked the Lion." "He's a dirty cheat. I swear he had iron in his fist at the end there. No one acts like that with just bruises" "You're still on about the other guy having broken ribs?" "That's what the cripple said when she paid for those boys to carry him out of there." One of the men made a rude noise as they moved too far for Ulric to hear anymore. Slowly he released his breath and considered beating daylights out of whoever had clearly been talking about Ves at the end. "Not worth it," Ves whispered. Ulric pressed his lips together. He rather disagreed with her about that. Before anything more could be done or said, Ves pressed her face into the side of his neck and sent a thrill through him as she spoke, her lips tracing her words into his skin. "Please, my love." Damn. "For you, I'll leave it," he said before backing up a step. "I didn't hurt you did I?" "You didn't hurt me," she assured him before taking his arm. With that they left again. This time Ulric was more cautious than before about their surroundings and who might still be around.

~

As he secured their room, Ves took the nights winnings from their hidden spots and adding it to the well secured chest that held the rest of the money they'd been saving. The sound of coins hitting more coins often soothed a person, but it had never soothed him and tonight it janked against his already overwrought nerves. This nights happenings kept playing in his head now and nothing he did was helping. He could only keep it back for so long. Human screams for violence turning into the dying screams of the battlefield and that of horses before he cut their- "Love." Ulric tensed at the voice before a crashing wave of relief and recognition overtook him and he dropped his shoulders. A cup of hot liquid was placed into his hands and the familiar scent of chamomile and mint rose from the steam to meet his nose. Calming tea to clear his head. He hadn't even noticed she was making it, or that his mouth and throat had gone dry. Ignoring the heat, he inhaled the scent of it as he took the first sip from the half full cup that shook in his hands. "Thank you," he managed to wheeze. "I shouldn't have moved the money," she said softly, apologetically. "I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry."

~

"What do you think you're doing with that thing!" The wolf cowered immediately at the shout. Ulric stayed still so he didn't cause more distress to the poor animal than it already had. "I'm looking at the wolf," he said steadily. "Get away from it." Ulric sat back on his heels and looked in the direction of the shouting. "Why? It's not harming me." The woman scowled at him. "Another one of you bleeding hearts? Don't go messing with the rope or anything then, or touching it. Gods help you if you touch it and it passes the madness." The woman's scowl softened to a frown. "We don't want to burn another person." "This wolf doesn't have the madness," Ulric pointed out. "Obviously its been here for awhile. It would've gone mad by now." "They all have the madness. Don't touch it." She stomped off with a swirl of her pelt as Ulric glared after her. He spat to the side. Bleeding heart now, was he? The wolf whined and Ulric returned his attention to it. It stopped cowering and reached it's nose out to him. He stretched out his hand and felt the first inquisitive lick of a near dry but still warm tongue on his fingertips. "I'll get you out of here, cousin," he whispered while looking into its cloudy yellow eyes.

~ The mules ears twitched again before their heads came up. Ves watched as they looked back towards down. The bare branches rubbed against each other and she read a warning in those creaks. Before she had time to puzzle it all out, the mules shifted and grunted and she turned to see Ulric hurrying towards her, his cloak bundled awkwardly in his arms. A bundle that had a tail hanging out of it. Ves abandoned her staff and limped to the first of the mules. Ila briefly fought her but gave up once Ves clicked her tongue in vexation while sharply tugging on her lead. Ulric gently hoisted his bundled wolf up into the cart and then leapt down to land in a crouch not far from her. Ila reared slightly and Ves glared at her borderline audacious husband as he brushed himself of snow and gravel. "No time," he said breathlessly taking Ila's lead from her hand. "I need you with him to keep him quiet and look at his leg."

Lowering his sword, Ulric narrowed his eyes and studied the man who could only be Karington. A cousin, because he was too old to be Rayak’s son. One that Ulric had never met or known the existence of before. Not too surprising, not really. And it made fleeing even more unlikely than if it had been some secretary or another. Kirill growled and Ulric looked over his shoulder before turning to meet the people who approached, both hands on his sword again. “They’re just making sure you don’t try to escape,” Karington said. “You’ve already slipped through too many times. And you’re needed at home.” Ulric didn’t move. “Tell them to back down.” “Ulric-” “Tell them to back down!” He wasn’t about to chance anyone at his fucking back. His breath rasped in his throat. Carefully he shifted his grip as he stared down the men behind him. Too many people surrounded him. He’d been through a fight like this, but it had been a bitter fight for survival that had left him half-dead. The injury that had nearly crippled his shoudler had been sustained in that fight. And he’d done that with Ves safely behind their lines. She was here now though.  A gust took out the lantern closest to them. Ulric flinched as oil and fire went spilling to the ground. None of it was close to hitting him, but the scent of burning flesh and screaming animals lingered in his mind. Instead of spilling in one spot and slowly eating the dead grass around it, the fire lanced straight through between Ulric and the armed men, cutting them off from each other. “My husband told you to order your men to stand down.” He should’ve guessed. Breathing only a little easier, Ulric turned so he could see both sides lined up on either side of them, with Ves at his back. He should’ve known she’d have his back in any way possible. Kirill shifted and came between his legs, pressing against the one closest to the fire. “You’re both perfectly safe,” Karington replied. “And we can’t be sure of your intentions for our safety when you’ve refused to do even the minimum of assuring us of that. Stand your men down, please. We won’t run.” Well, he’d been considering it. But Ves had now given her word and he couldn’t invalidate it with his conscience intact. He didn’t lower his sword either though. Too many times he’d trusted people at their word, and more scars than he wished to admit to having had been the result.

~

“He’s barely limping now,”” Ulric observed as he watched Kirill trot alongside Ves as if he was prepared to catch her should she fall for any reason. “I was worried that he would be crippled for life,” Ves replied, moving her armful of small blankets when Ulric made a faux pass at trying to take them from her. “A few more weeks of good feeding and you’ll have to start teaching him how to behave.” “I though we were going to find him a new pack and release him.” Ves eyed him from under her thick brows. “You think he hasn’t already found himself a pack?” “Well–” “You also expect me to believe you haven’t been wanting to keep him?” Heat bloomed along his cheeks as he dropped his eyes. “I can explain���” Silence stretched between them as Ulric tried to find the words he desperately needed in this moment. But they all escaped him, pulling just out of reach. He knew that Ves was reading into his mental floundering and finally he sighed. “He’s a good companion.” Ves only smiled as she shook her head. He walked behind her with the harnessing around his arms and shoulders, face still warm.

~

“Alesey is a sorcerer,” she says quietly. “I can’t do anything against that.” “And you think I can?” Ulric looked between the two people asking far too much of him.“Fuck me, I’m just a man like most others.”

~

Ulric faced down the man in front of him, wooden sword in his hand. His opponent had a similar sword and stood with ease, used to this. Scowling at the sword in his hands, Ulric moved to the left, one foot over the other as carefully as he always did. Too careful and he’d betray anxiety. Too slow and he’d look stupid. Karington had seen him, he’d know Ulric knew how to fight. But it didn’t matter what he or anyone else said. The general in charge of seeing where Ulric was in skill was the one  who’d have final say on things. The general stood to the side, watching this bout. Kirill sat further away from the man and Ulric drew a little of his wolf-cousins image just to steady himself. He had never liked being examined like this. This was clean and sanitized, and Ulric had learned most of his skill in the blood-soaked dirt of war. It wasn’t right to be judged like this. He’d proven himself already. His opponent, a younger man and an officer in the military who stood taller than Ulric but with as broad of shoulders. Not as much of the bulk though. Ulric knew some of the younger men sneered at him, thinking he’d gotten old, fat, and wasn’t as much of a force as he had been when he was younger. This pup of an officer was in that group. Even now he watched him with a smirk on his thin lips. Good. If he was over confident in his skill and the outcome of this bout, Ulric could take him down easier. Thirty-some wasn’t old, and his bulk hid years of fighting muscle kept up under steady, hard labour. A few good hits would see this officer on the ground like a felled log. The officer came at him first, charging him down, no doubt thinking to overwhelm him with his height and speed. Ulric moved quickly to defend himself. The ensuing clack of their swords against each other echoed in the yard. The officer backed off from his failed attack and Ulric leapt straight into a counter-attack. Surprised, the officer moved to defend himself. His footwork got sloppy as he was forced onto the defensive, trying to fend Ulric off. Only when Ulric needed a short bit of reprieve did he back off. Unlike the officer though, he fell back into a position he was ready to defend from.  The officer stood in place, eyes wide with baffled surprise. In that moment Ulric knew that this pup of a man had never seen combat before. Something like that shouldn’t have surprised him. First rule of combat is that you don’t know jack fucking shit and your training meant dick all once someone started bleeding.

FebruarOC Day 19: Sylpha

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Everyones favourite half-elf.

And by favourite, I mean to only a few people at the time most people meet her in the beginning of the Defenders of Alcadia series.

Former pirate, and now personal guard to Crown Prince Aldon Drogr.