*Yes you read that right. I was SO engrossed in her Merry Gentry series at this point I literally couldn't think of anything else. So I created a character that would blend right in with the world, the place, and the characters I was reading about. And added a bit of "fleshed out" side story that blended too. I have a 3 page character sheet with info down to her astrological sign and family history so I may take it further. Heck, One day I may have the courage to send it to my beloved author, but for now... well, this is as far as I'm taking it! Behold, my one and only fan fiction!
* In two parts: 1 was a dialog bit, the other internal.
btw, here is Laurell's website: http://www.laurellkhamilton.org/
The Internal View:
Zeyriah stood on the crest of the hill, feeling the breeze play along her skin. It always amazed her how much the gentle winds felt like a parents arms, embracing her. The sunlight glinted off her skin, sending little lavender glints off into the already coloring sunset. She sighed and looked over at Lissen. Even at her 240 years, she was a baby compared to him. He was well over a thousand...in fact he had seen the last weirding that stripped them of so much power. He remembered vividly when the Each Báis were still how they got around. She could only remember stories of the death steeds, the dark faerie mounts that the royal guard rode across the land and the skies. The closest she would ever get was her ancient sword, her Titim Bais. She rested her hand on the pommel of her sword thinking how appropriate it’s name was today. Death Fall seemed strangely right after the last 4 hours. Years ago she had in her mind renamed her blade “Echaus” but after today she’d be using it’s true name again. To not do so would be dishonor to the magik relic that she held. She had thought the name silly before, not truly realized what an object of magik and power it was. It had cut through the immortal fae like they were simple humans. She had never seen her blade do that. Wound, yes. Maim, yes. But to kill an immortal with a single strike...there were only 4 blades she knew of that held that much power...and 2 were in the unseelie court. One with the queens Darkness, the other in the hands of her Killing Frost. Guards of over a 1000 years of age. One of which had been a warrior of her own Seelie court long ago. Both were strong, fierce, and feared. And in her hand was another killing blade. Who was she to wield it? A lesser royal guard. A winged abomination to some of the Seelie court. Why the wings skipped 3 generations ad “blessed” her with their presence she’d never know. Her great grandfather had been demi-fae, one of the few who had become Sidhe through magiks long before the last war. Her great grandmother had seen him for the man he was and rather than see his wings as an abomniation, she had instead seen them as an added beauty to his already magnificent looks. Zeyriah sighed thinking of her grandparents. She wished she could ask them so many questions after today. About the last weirding, about her grandfathers visions, about herself. The fact that she made royal guard at all was a mystery to her as she had one of the only full human parents in all of faerie. Her mother had been taken by a seelie sidhe as a child and by the grace of Danu had been adopted as a child rather than been turned into an entertainer or servant. She had ended up being one of the ladies in waiting for the courtiers of King Taranis and had so met Zeyriah father, King Taranis’ personal Guard, Nuerl. She was half human and would never have been guessed for one. Even her mortality had been taken out of contension years ago when another seelie had tried to kill her to keep her from sullying their shinning throng. At age 8 it was apparent that she was fully her fathers child, for she was wounded but healed at fae speed, and did not die from human-standard fatal wounds. When your throat is slashed and you recover, it tends to prove your immortality. So in some ways, it was like people ignored her mothers lineage. Hell, half of the sithen didn’t even remember her mother was not any part fae... she looked the part. Tall, slender, beautiful silken blond hair. Her only tell tale signs were the lack of tri colored irises and her wrinkles. The Fae didn’t wrinkle. Zeyriah loved her mothers wrinkles. While she aged much slower in the sithen, 328years on a human still aged. She might only look 75, but that meant that she had maybe 20 years. Nothing to a fae. A flies lifespan. The wrinkles told stories, showed a life lived fully, but most importantly they showed the emotions that so many of her fellow fae hid.
Zeyriah shook her head. It was folly to think about all that now. She needed to focus on what was going on. Or rather what wasn’t going on and what all that implied. Never before had she been so conflicted and hesitant. Not even when she fought against the cwn annwn. The hell hound had gotten her, and the wound never healed cleanly. Just thinking of it brought her hand to her side where the raised claw-like scars sat. If anything should have given her pause it would have been that night. Nothing prepared her to meet one of Arawns phantom hell hounds. They had not been seen in centuries, and yet it was there. About to attack Taranis and his mistress. It had not even occured to her to hesitate, to not fight. She had slain the hound, and with her scars and her promotion into Tranis’ royal gaurds had moved up in the sithen. Few people made the same desparaging remarks towards her wings anymore. In fact it would go days now where she wasn’t reminded how non pure Seelie she was, or told to go to the Unseelie where she belonged with the other lesser sidhe. A sentiment that Zeyriah would never agree with. Why should having a difference in hair colors, or additional magiks make you less? Of course, she kept that thought to herself. She was still an outsider, and would be forever. She was tollerated, but not embraced save but for her family. And Taranis. Although he valued her skill, not her. And after today, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to value her either way.
Could it be possible? Could Taranis really be dooming the Seelie to extinction? The rumors that he was infertile and therefore the rest of the court was as well were growing. And after todays meeting with Princess Meredith of the Unseelie court, Zeyriah was starting to believe them. The princess had brought up several subtle points. Points that Taranis himself probably missed, since he never paid much attention to what anyone but himself had to say. But the guards, they heard it all. Heard what it hinted at, heard what did make sense.
And what if it was true? Did she follow Lissen? Did she leave the Seelie? How could she bare to leave her family? To never hear her grandmother call her “my little duine fein sciathan” again? While others made fun of her wings, her grandmother had seen them as a reflection of her wonderful husband. Zeyriah loved to hear her grandmother call her “her little wing bearer” in the old tongue, it made her feel a part of faerie down to her soul. Could she give that up? Could she leave her mother? But mostly, could she truly leave the Seelie? Once you were gone, you could never come back. Not if you went to the Unseelie court. If Princess Meredith was right, the Unseelie court was the only place with a hope at regaining the lost magiks, regaining what they once were. But to even think of it seemed like being a traitor. She had served Taranis for over a hundred years. But if he truly was dooming them, what loyalty did she owe him? If he would forsake his own people for his pride?
The Dialog View:
Lissen paced the meadow as if he would grind a centuries old path into it in an hour.
“Lissen, we need to talk about this. I need to know what to do. I need to know your thoughts.”
“You saw what just happened. You heard what she said. Can you truly tell me that it doesn’t ring true to you? I have tried, Goddess and Consort but I have tried Zeyriah, with all my heart to be loyal to Taranis. I have served at his side since before we came here from Europe. Centuries I have given him. He is supposed to be the King of Light, of truth. Truth damn it! We have seen the maddness creep into him slowly. Don’t shake your head at me, you know it. We all do! He is not worthy of kingship anymore, the Sithen doesn’t even recognize him half the time!”
“ I hear you. I do. But Lissen, this is a choice that will leave us exiled from the Seelie court for the rest of our nearly immortal lives, thousands of years of exile... to never touch another Sidhe? Can you even imagine that agony? I have seen sidhe driven mad from exile in less than a century...”
“They were weak, and if I am right the court will no longer be at Taranis’ fingertips. If she is right, then the Seelie will do everything they can to see themselves saved. To save your race from extinction people will change a lot. How long have we heard the horror stories of the Unseelie? Did you see any deformities in her party? and spikes? any grotesqueness? I saw only beauty that rivals ours. I saw sharp minds and temperant people. And I am not suceptible to glamour. “
“yes, as I well know” the thought of a night long ago made her laugh out loud “ and that is why I believe you about Taranis. you said much of what he was “showing” as proof was simply his namesake, Illusion. I do not disagree that Taranis is unfit to rule. But I am afraid Lissen. What if she is wrong? What if we go to the Unseelie or follow Princess Meridith to her new Sithen and find out it was all a game of poitics? of intrigue? What if we find out that both Taranis and she are liars and unfit to lead? Then who do we follow? where do we go?”
“I will not follow someone who will doom all of Faerie or their own people for vanity and illusion. I will not follow someone who will turn us into nothing but a political battlefield. I believe the princess, truly and deeply but if I were to be proven wrong, I would take exile in the human world long before I would wish I had stayed following the lies and destruction of Taranis. You have heard he released the nameless?”
“I had heard rumor, but only rumor Lissen. It is not known who released it, Tranais himself has said that it was the Unseelie.”
“It is not rumor. He came to me to ask about certain things. He forgot that I was one of the guards of Knowledge when the nameless was created. I knew its resting place. It is no longer there. The only one with the power and knowledge to raise it is sitting on the golden throne as we speak, Queen Andais has never seen it’s resting place, and it was her bloodline that was attacked as well. She never would have risked her throne for that.”
The sudden overwhelming realization of how deep Taranis’ maddness was hit her. He truly was going to doom them all in his plots. “oh Goddess.”
“aye”
“So we leave. How do we know we will be welcome in her court?”
“ I have spoken with her Darkness, Doyle. He has said that we are welcome if the sithen invites us.”
“invites us? “
“it is not something the Sithen has done in centuries. But long ago when the Sithen recognized someone of it’s own court, it would open the door without us asking for it. There was no looking for the latch or asking. Out of the mound the Sithen would simply make a door open and sing for your entry... a light welcoming music, like coming home”
such a look crossed his face that in that moment Zeyriah knew that he truly knew what it was like to be Fae, to be Sidhe. To have all the power, all the magik... not to mimic the humans as the Seelie did now. It was a look she wanted to understand.
“And their Sithen does this?”
“When Princess Meredith created this Sithen with the Creation Magik the Goddess touched her with this last week, it was a Sithen of old. The hounds of faery we have at our sithen are few and sparce compared with the bounty of them who abide there. The demi fae swarm the halls. The gardens thrive, not live, Thrive.”
“You have seen this? yourself? Lissen, are you sure?”
“I have not seen it, but I know it to be true. I have heard Consorts voice this day again. Many years has it been since I have been graced with his presence.” He lifted his head as if in prayer, and a single tear dripping off his chin showed her all the proof she need.
“Let’s go. We don’t have long before Hugh will recind his offer of cover for us. I will trust him because you do. If he says that his ability to cloak us in the breeze is true, then we should go now. Before Taranis’ maddness progresses further and he seals the sithen as he eluded to.”
She picked up her cloak and turned to start the walk back when he grabbed her arm. She looked into his tri colored irisis... his electric blue outer rim that faded to a pulsing ocean blue and finally the innermost ring of ice blue. His eyes were truly Seelie. Hers with her lavender and violet and nearly black purple were Seelie enough, but not a true Seelie color. His were the eyes of storybook drawings. And never has she seen them so serious, so full of intent.
“I cannot gaurantee your safety. I cannot promise you will see your family again. Or be able to return to Faerie. I cannot say that we will win.”
“I know Lissen, but you can promise me that we will follow truth. That I am willing to sacrifice for.”
She turned and this time he allowed her to pull free of his arm and gathered his thoughts as he followed down the hill.
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