Fantasy Fire and Ice (closed)

[WolfSol]

Spoiler: ...

It was once thought that Earth was flat and was inhabited by one continent, Meridianam (South in Latin) - the South. However, in 1942, Columbus sailed the ocean blue and stumbled across a second continent far to the North. His sudden intrusion had not been taken well, but the Northerners greeted him nonetheless and welcomed humanity. It was discovered that the Northerners, or Borealis (North wind in Latin), were different from humans in not only appearance but their genetic makeup as well. The Borealis lived two hundred years longer than that of a human, they were fairly indestructible, and they had unnatural and unexplained gifts. What's more, to continue life, they ate the flesh of the living. Humanity was assured that the Borealis ate animals.

At first, everything was well. The North and South joined arms and began to import and export. Later they even built a bridge that stretched over the miles of sea to join the two continents. However, there was a faction of humans who grew wary of the Borealis and their ways. The faction betrayed the Borealis trust by assassinating a political officer and a member of the royal family during an annual peace talk between the countries. The betray ended up in the bridge being destroyed and hostilities arising. The reason for war was later morphed into a desire to prove superiority, the true reason forgotten in text.

Now, in the year 2019, the war continues, and it's beginning to reach a stalemate. Humanity's numbers have dropped despite their progressing technology, and the Borealis have weakened in their powers despite the abundance of energy around them. The war has gone on long enough, it's time for a change.

Spoiler: Borealis

Borealis, both singular and plural, is a name given to the strange inhabitants of the Northern continent in the Mervia kingdom. Their royal family, the Tacet lineage, has stood as the Borealis leader since the beginning of time.

The Borealis are much taller than the average human, can live up to two hundred years, bear pointed teeth, and require the flesh of the living to survive. Unlike humans, they do not require breath and for this reason their blood is blue. In replacement of breath, they require natural light of certain amounts. Each is gifted with an element that beats alongside their heart, and only the pure-blooded Borealis may harbor the fifth element as well as multiple elements.

Each element used has a tax on the body. The magic acts as a parasite and drains its host of energy. Sleep or pause in magic is required. The possibility of training the body to handle the strain is possible, but only a few in the Borealis military have mastered in. Royalty is unable to due to the ability to harbor Time, the most taxing of all. Due to harboring an element, a Borealis has a certain color of eyes and emits a certain aura of which can be used as a simple trait or a way of defense and offense.

For each element, excluding Time, is a clan and each clan is governed by the royal Borealis family.

To use an element against a fellow Borealis means death. To kill a Borealis, the body must be burned, and returned to the Earth as ashes.

Spoiler: Elements

Elements -
Fire - There is passion, an uncontrollable passion that can almost be disguised as drive, determination. This element is either white or blue, the hottest flames, and can be manipulated from steam to light. It is derived from the sun, and cannot harm the host. When it beats within, the host has eyes that glimmer with an extra tint that is akin to a flame's color. It can be neutralized by water, and is weak to air.

Water - A cold and calculating ideal where everything is observed and analyzed. It is the harsh reality, the death's grip, and is set in its ways. This element is either a foggy translucence, blue, white, or silver, and it can manipulate cold temperatures. It can be manipulated from the water of a plant to the ice of the a glacier. It is derived from the coldest star, and cannot harm the host. When it beats within, the host has eyes that glimmer with an extra shade of monochromatic gray, white, or blue. It is weak to fire, and can be neutralized by earth.

Earth - A loyal and steady heart that will beat until the last breath. It is a shelter against the storm. This element manipulate the earth at will. It can move and create mountains. It is derived from the earth's core, and cannot harm the host. When it beats within, the host has the eyes that glimmer with a striking color of green or brown. It can be neutralized by fire, and is weak to time.

Air - Wild and free, it is the epitome of freedom. There is an unbreakable spirit here, one that muses and runs. This element manipulates the wind at will, from breath of an enemy to the summer's breeze. It is derived from the breath of a nameless God, and cannot harm the host. When it beats within, the host has the eyes that glimmer with milked whites and tinges of blues. It is weak to earth, and can be neutralized by water.

Time - It is demanding and greedy, lasting forever or not lasting at all. It represents the pause in words, the pause in thought. It is the beginning and the end and the nothing in-between. This element manipulates time when it comes to movement, but it is weak. This element may not draw back time, it's limit is one hour back, but an opponent may be paused in existence for more than twenty-four hours. It is derived from the unknown, and it cannot harm the host. It is weak to itself as it cannot be used for long periods of time.

Spoiler: Meridianam

The Meridianam, both singular and plural, is a name given to the Southern continent by the Borealis. Their kingdom, Corwin, was founded by the current royal family, Baux.

The humans have come a long way from 1942 in ways of technology and livelihood. The war has taught them many things, but it has also encouraged fear. Humanity fears the unknown, and finds the Borealis to be a threat to humankind. Why? Because they are different.

Humanity is split up into states, and each state is governed by the royal family.

They prosper in nuclear weaponry, but the deadly chemicals due little in ridding the North of the Borealis when it comes to radiation poisoning.

Spoiler: Sol's Characters

Josiah Damase Tacet​

' I can even see it. Not only feel it, but I can see it . . . How broken everything is ,
- E.B.
​

[ Alias ] Josh

[ Age ] 97 (roughly mid-to-late-twenties in human years)

[ Relationships ]
King Damase (Father)
Queen Rosia (Mother)
Princess Antoinette/Ani (Younger Sister)
Princess Quistis (Twin Sister, Deceased)
Earth Clan Leader Silvias (Aunt )
Evonne (Former Fiance)
Kesler (Advisor the Crown Prince)

Josiah is considered short when compared to other Borealis. He stands roughly at 6'5'' and has a rather strong build. His hair, a dark brown-almost black, is constantly defying gravity and changing in style. Although it is insisted upon, he wears little suits, and tends to wear graphic shirts and sweaters when he is not involved in political and royal affairs. To get out of wearing suits, he chooses a button-up shirt or sweater.

It's rather amazing how his face is not stuck in a frown.

His eyes mimic the element that he mostly prefers, fire. The irises are a deep crimson with flecks of white near the outer ring. It is said that they darken in color when he bears emotion. On his left shoulder is a tattoo of a melting clock face that drips down into a swarm of birds.

​

[ Biography ]​

Josiah is the 93rd prince in the Tacet line, and with his father nearing the ripe age of 197, it's almost time for him to take the throne. Ever since his birth he has been trained to take the crown, and for this he is adept in all aspect of education despite his weakness for mathematics and remembering historical dates. The idea to take the throne does not scare him; in fact, he's rather expectant of it. He believes that the throne is one step closer to him being able to add extra protection to his people and an end to humanity.

At a young age he developed the ability to control Water and Fire. He can still use Earth and Air, but the effects are weak and limited. Fire is something he found favor in as it correlates with his soul. In addition, he can use the element of Time, but the use is limited and a strain on his body. Only he and his mother have the ability to use Time in the current royal family.

There was a time when he believed in the humans and protested against his kingdom's actions, but when the humans attacked and killed a royal official and his twin in front of him, an assassination that led to the war, he turned against his belief. Now he holds animosity toward the humans, seeing them as childish, weak, and greedy. With his twin gone, the only one that would be able to change his mind and calm his temper, he seeks to avenge her death and every other fellow Borealis that has fallen by humanity's hand.

He struggles to find time to spend with his younger sister as most of his time is taken up by defending his kingdom and following in his father's footsteps.

[[[]]]

[ Personality ]​

Josiah is as stubborn as he is passionate. He's set in his ways, and he's not one to shy away from conflict. Being quick to anger and become consumed by negativity, the normal attitude of Josiah can only be described as acidic and hot. The death of his twin has antagonized him to the point where he holds only distrust and hostility toward man.

His anger and attitude has led to distance as his people fear his negativity. It makes communication awkward for him, but it does not mean he lacks in charisma or socialization.

The push to become something better, something more from his father has pushed him into the feeling of inadequacy. This has caused a rift in the relationship between father and son as everything that he does is never approved, praised, or acknowledged by his father.

He favors animals (ironically), music, coffee, and literature.

Evonne Grace-lynn Kroff​

[ Alias ] Vonne, Evo by Josiah

[ Age ] 99 (appears late twenties to early thirties in human years)

[ Relationships]
Royal Armada's Fifth Navy Fleet Admiral Byron (Father)
Earth Clan Leader Silvias (Mother )
Crown Prince Josiah (Former Fiance)

Evonne is engaged to Josiah and has been since birth. She is incredibly infatuated with him and eager to marry him once he ascends the throne. She's constantly trying to get his attention and gain his affection. Her love for him makes he extremely territorial and possessive. Although her dislike for humans is not as strong and meaningful as Josiah and his hatred for them, she detests humans simply because she detests them. Her reasons are irrational and nonexistent.

She is well-practiced in the element of earth. Her eyes are a deep, glimmering brown that is easy to get lost in.​

​

May not use
Devon Rush Daniels​

[ Age ] 26

[ Kin ]
Second Royal Army Major General Warner (Father)
Maidservant Amanda (Mother)
Second Royal Army Private Zachariah (Older Brother)
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Devon is a newly trained bodyguard tasked to watch over the Southern princess. He harbors a nonchalant attitude that at times can appear as standoffish or cold. Having been raised to abhor the Borealis, he becomes immediately against the idea of the princess being sent to marry the Borealis prince. Truth be told he has had a crush on the princess since he was 12, but has kept the feelings to himself.

​

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Spoiler: Kuma's Character

Eleanor
Baux

Princess of Corwin

G E N E R A L
name - Eleanor Isabella Baux
alias - Nora
age - 24
role - 1st Princess of the Kingdom of Corwin

B O D Y
height - 5'9"
weight - 125 lbs
description - Eleanor is on the taller side of the human female population, her height believed to have been passed down from her grandmother. From birth until now, she has stood out physically due to her appearance in comparison to the rest of her royal family.
Unlike her half-siblings whom inherited the king's fair skin, straight blonde hair, and emerald green eyes, Eleanor is quite frankly the opposite because she is the sole daughter of the first queen. Although she does not have the pasty white tone of the other royals, she's proud nonetheless of how flawlessly clear and milky it is (besides a small burn scar which remains hidden on her left side). Her hair is a wavy, light brown mess that often chooses to side with humidity than the beholder. It falls a foot passed her shoulders and because of the difficult in maintaining it in it's natural form, Eleanor will often straighten it. The most defining feature, other than her plump lips, would have to be her eyes, which are a crystallized blue that seem to clearly express her emotions and often becoming lighter or darker.
style - The style of an elegant is what Eleanor would describe her taste. It isn't too flashy nor would it be considered rubbish. Of course, as a princess she's forced to adhere to the tradition of wearing dresses for nearly every outing and event, but when she's home, she enjoys a nice pair of dark jeans and a loose blouse. Although she'd like to wear heels outside of her duties, she understands that she's already considerably taller than her peers and doesn't want to be frowned upon.

P E R S O N A
personality - Eleanor is a headache to anyone that truly knows her. She is passionate when it comes to her beliefs and her people, often putting everything else before her own well-being. In fact, she's famous for working so hard and diligently that she often faints from the stress she puts on herself. These qualities have made her famous for standing up to many political figures who have gone against their word because she isn't afraid to speak her mind, especially in public. The woman can also be described as hard-headed, stubborn, and naive because she believes what she believes and it's difficult to change her mindset once it's been set. Her anger is not the most pleasant even though she may seem like a simply curious and empathetic individual.

Although her persona is viewed as fiery and passionate, truth be told she is very fearful. Her clumsiness and curiosity will surely get her no where, especially not that she is being married off to a Borealis prince. She doesn't know if her normal self will ever surface while she is in this foreign kingdom because like most of her human peers, she fears the tales she has heard.

likes - animals, music, art, dancing, reading, walks, gardens, sweets, fruits, vegetables
dislikes - red meat, pork, violence, cruelty, disrespect, coffee, bitter foods and drinks
fears - the Borealis, death, failure, fire, being locked up

B I O G R A P H Y
Eleanor was born as the 24th princess under Baux rule to King Alaric's first wife, Anastasia. She was a woman from a former noble line and many did not approve of the marriage to a woman who did not bare a title. The marriage occurred any how and so did the the birth of their first child. At the young age of 5, the palace was set aflame where Eleanor remained trapped and her mother, along with many others, perished. She received a small scar from the impact and it wasn't long before Alaric remarried.

She was not treated very well by her step-siblings because no one truly adored the former queen like they did the present. That being said, Genovee was not a kind woman and she would always torment Eleanor by locking her in the "Quiet Room." Why it was called the quiet room was unknown because all Eleanor can remember were her sobs and the blood, red walls that surrounded her. Of course, her father never knew of this because Eleanor and the workers who'd witnessed everything feared for their life, although Eleanor mostly feared her father's happiness and did not want to ruin that.

Once the girl reached her teen years, she eventually stopped becoming so afraid and would often fight back against her step-mother. She learned that Genovee really couldn't do anything, even if she was the queen and her son was the Crown Prince. Eleanor slowly began to gain confidence in her self and she no longer hesitated to learn, especially after finally meeting her grandmother. Every book, poem, script, or some other written article was within her grasp and she began to learn about the things she was once told never to touch. It wasn't long before the books on the Borealis caught her eye and she started to wonder if they were as ugly and hideous as the words made them out to be.

Upon adulthood, Eleanor became a beloved character throughout the palace and kingdom. People recognized her benevolent acts although many snickered at her shameless curiosity and pitiful clumsiness. She was a woman that people imagined would do great things on her own but who would have that she was to wed their life long enemy.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S
King Alaric (50, father)
Queen Anastasia (deceased, mother)
Queen Genovee (45, step-mother)
Prince Jeremiah (26, step-brother)
Prince Harold (23, step-brother)
Princess Justine (23, step-sister)
Princess Elena (18, half-sister)
Princess Olivia (13, half-sister)
Fatima Baux (78, grandmother)
Margaret Baptiste (22, maidservant)

Partner: Nap

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:20px; text-shadow: 3px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

Josiah

Ribbons of anger, hot and consuming, lit up the darkness. Its iridescence devoured the room, showering ornate and tanned bricks, red carpets, and golden curtains with a flickering hue of blue. It cast long, harsh shadows against the walls and against the flesh that swayed whenever the ribbons danced, shifted. Then with the closing of fingers, it was gone. Yet its absence was only for a moment. When it returned with the snap of a finger, it lit up the room once more. The second light was softer, dimmer. It did not move and hiss with hatred, but it still pulsed with emotion.

He closed his hand again, the light of a blue flame vanishing in his grasp only to revive it with an unnecessary snap of fingers. Each rise of the flame differed from the previous until the flame itself resembled the flame on a candle wick, small and weak. Then he'd go cycle back and make the flame larger, wilder until it was almost too hard to contain in his upturned palm. It was practice, both mental and physical, and also a try at therapy. Although, the sight of fire never calmed him as much as he hoped. Instead he found himself more driven, more eager to increase the temperature, to manipulate the flame's movement, and to lengthen the flame itself. The further he increased in casting, the stronger he would be. At least, that's what he hoped.

But on the thirty-third try at steadily increasing the output of fire, he felt the weight of fatigue. It was a nagging pressure at the back of his skull, a burning sensation in his eyes, and a heaviness in his body that led him to close his hand once more. The fact hat he hadn't improved in the past few months drew a sigh from deep within him, a guttural and heavy exhale. If he couldn't control the elemental property of fire then how was he supposed to cast both time and fire or time and water?

Fire came to him the easiest. "It's the element that resonates with your soul," was what his mother had said. Lately he thought different. Perhaps it was just easy because it matched his emotion? It it resonated with his soul, then wouldn't controlling it be easier? Water was learned afterward, and it was difficult to use them together since they neutralized one another. Time was the last he had learned. It was the most recent, the ability coming to him when he had just turned 65. Now, at the age of 97, Time was by far the weakest of his casts. Out of all of them he had expected to master fire, no... he needed to master it. Mastering an ability, in his eyes, proved strength. It proved stamina, drive, and dexterity. Hell, maybe it would even prove to his father that he was ready. A bodily statistic would mean more of an upper hand against them, the humans.

The very thought of them made his upper lip curl in disgust, pointed teeth baring at the very word. If he had mastered fire then, before the war had began, then perhaps he would have been able to save his sister and kill those who had betrayed the treaty. Then again that thinking was rather childish, to focus on what could have been done. The "what ifs" would get him nowhere.

"Big brooooooother!" He nearly jumped out of his boots when the large door to his bedroom was opened, enveloping him in the hall lights. A small, frail little child with curly, cascading mess of brown hair bounded up to him with a wild grin. She stopped in front of him, eyes of striking green glancing around the dark bedroom before she tilted her head up to properly look at him. He probably looked odd, perhaps even crazy, by standing in the center of his room with the lights off, but she didn't say anything of it. Instead, "Let's go play outside, it's snowing!"

He raised a brow at that. Of course it was snowing, that was a common feature in the North. True, it hadn't snowed for a while, and they had been seeing green grass and blue skies... "Ani," he spoke her name and she quickly grabbed onto the bottom hem of his shirt and pouted, "you know I've no time to play. There's a meeting with the clan leaders and the fleet admirals at noon. Father will likely have my head if I'm even a second late." That and he was, as usual, not in the mood to play pretend. He did love his youngest sister, with all his heart, but the desire to protect her was stronger than his desire to maintain a steady connection. That and the day was far too busy to be enjoyed outside.

"But Kesler said you could!" She kicked his shin, but the kick didn't hurt. Giving the name of his adviser had Josiah rolling his eyes. She tended to think that bringing up other people in the conversation helped her in getting her way.

​

​

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Heshire, Corwin​

Wind swept calmly across the lands of Corwin and even more so as it reached the palace walls. The smell of baked goods and cinnamon filled the air and seemed to add to the warm facade the capital city Heshire seemed to always portray. It was always warmer in the southern kingdom and winter usually reached the capital much slower than the rest. In fact, it was probably already snowing in the towns and cities closer north, but with the war going on it'd probably all be barren mush.

In peaceful Heshire, however, at the very top of the great Baux palace, which barely reached two decades in age, a young woman was perched on the edge with a large sketchbook in hand. She did not show fear when it came to risking her life and many people had learned that there was no point in stopping her from doing she'd already set her mind to. Even her best friend, a mere palace maid, could no express the distress she felt when seeing the woman she grew up with literally dangling to a near death.

"Margo?" Eleanor called, her eyes never leading the sketchbook in her hands and her feet swinging ever so slightly. With no response from the opposite party and only the sound of birds flying overhead responded, the fair skinned lady angled her head as confused expression molded onto her face. She carefully turned her body, making sure the hem of her blouse was not caught under her, and tucked her beloved book under an arm before making her way indoors to find Margaret. It was very unusual for the darker girl to leave her side, especially when Eleanor was on the rooftop.

As Eleanor descended the steps she continued to call for the servant, her confusion now a mixture of curiosity and anxiety. Had she gotten Margaret in trouble again? It was impossible for that to happen because Eleanor was sure she was careful about sneaking up to the rooftop that time. Her thoughts soon subsided when she finally saw a mop of curly black exit her step-mother's office, a befuddled and almost disturbed expression on her face.

"Margaret?" asked Eleanor as she stepped forward, leaning down a bit so she could make easier eye contact. "Why were you in Genovee's office?" A multitude of ideas began swarming in her head with a majority being negative. Queen Genovee wasn't the nicest person when it came to Eleanor and the people nearest to her. The sight of her oldest companion and personal served being in that foul woman's office only meant trouble on Eleanor's part.

Margaret bowed, her hair flopping in the process. "Her Majesty wanted me to deliver news to you about relations with the Borealis. King Alaric will be holding a meeting tonight with the Royal Cabinet and he would like the Princes and Princesses to attend."

Confusion was now etched on Princess Eleanor's face and her attention was somehow torn from her maidservant to an annoying strand of hair that dangled in front of her face. A hand swatted it away before she returned her gaze to Margaret. "Not just the Crown Prince but everyone?"

The dark girl nodded vigorously in response, keeping her eyes on the marble floor and refusing to look up.

It was truly odd that her father asked for anyone other than Jeremiah to attend the meeting simply because he was the first prince, which meant important duties would fall under him. Including the other boys would be understandable but the princesses were never tasked with anything except simple environmental projects and the like. Was the war beginning to become arduous again? Is that why he was calling for everyone? Are they losing this time?

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:20px; text-shadow: 3px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

■ ■ ■ JOSIAH ■ ■ ■

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

"But Kesler said you could!" She kicked his shin, but the kick didn't hurt. Giving the name of his adviser had Josiah rolling his eyes. She tended to think that bringing up other people in the conversation helped her in getting her way.

He patted her head, a gesture that was awkward to him but welcoming to her, "there will be other snow days," he started, but his words only derived a whine from her. She likely would have continued kicking at his shin and grabbing onto his clothes if it were not for the subtle cough that resounded by the door. The siblings looked to the archway, both hopeful that whoever had entered into the conversation would pick a side. Josiah's royal adviser, Kesler, leaned against the doorway with a massive shoulder, arms folded over a dark gray suit. His long, blond hair was swept and pulled back behind his shoulders, his clothes wrinkle free and as crisp and clean as ice. If it wasn't for the impish grin that split across his face and the unruly gleam of gray in his gaze, he would have appeared regal, almost immaculate.

"I do believe that I said you could go outside if you had your maidservant with you, princess." He spoke an octave lower than Josiah, "his highness has an audience with the king and the Cabinet soon. You wouldn't want his highness to get in trouble with your father if he were late, would you?" The reiteration of her brother's duty and their father's attitude toward tardiness seemed to make her frown deepen. Nevertheless, she relinquished Josiah's shirt and gradually drew away from him. "How about this, if you're a good princess, I'm sure his highness would be more than happy to read you a bedtime story tonight?" If looks could kill, Kesler would surely have been dead right then and there by Josiah's leveled stare.

Antoinette's grin returned. Of all the things in the world, bedtime stories were her favorite, right next to snow days. Then again anything to do with her brother was considered her absolute favorite. "Really," She looked up to her brother to which he nodded slowly, almost unwillingly. "Okay! I'll be extra good then!" She giggled as she bounded out the door, barely small enough to slip by Kesler's large frame.

At her departure, his adviser's smirk faltered. The reaction wasn't missed by Josiah, and it confused him. Perhaps it was the summons from his father? "What's this meeting about anyhow, do you know?"

In all his life he'd never witnessed Kesler avert his gaze from someone or flinch at a question. He found the older male extremely strong and confident, and he was the only one who could handle the cold stubbornness that was Josiah. Yet for him to look away, to cringe... "I'm not sure, your majesty." That too was unnatural, for his own adviser to not know. Hell, the man had eyes in the back of his head, and he seemed to know everything and anything before it actually happened. In addition, his tone wasn't even. It was a slight difference, but Josiah had caught it. Why was he being lied to?

"Kesler, why-"

"Lady Kroff is here." He cut in, another thing that was uncommon for him. Yet his sudden switch of topics seemed to work, distracting the crown prince for a moment at the additional news.

Lady Kroff, Evonne, was his fiancée since birth and someone he could care less for. It wasn't that he abhorred her, but it was more of a simple dislike. He could tolerate her presence when they were younger; however, his patience was starting to wear thin. It seemed that the closer he got to obtaining the crown, the more pushy and clingy she got. It was clear how much she loved him, but to reciprocate her feelings was something completely lost to him. Love was the last thing on his mind.

Josiah found Evonne in the foyer leaning over one of the large windowsills that overlooked the grandiose Mervia fountain that was centered in the castle courtyard. She'd always told him how she'd loved it, the intricately detailed lions that seemed to dance above the water as monochromatic rain spouted from their gaping mouths. The mirrored each other, roaring with gold fangs, and touched paw to paw. When she and he were younger, before his twin had been murdered, they'd loved climbing as high as they could atop the pair of lions.

She was humming a tune when he found her, her long fingers tapping against the ice covered sill with each measure. Today, her long hair was pulled to the side and braided, and she was dressed in a long, flowing, and elegant burgundy with a cut at the shoulders and the middle of her back. The dress wasn't her, it was much too long for her taste, and it was much too big in the bust. Nevertheless, she looked riveting. The pale skies that peeked from the window accented her face, gave her clouded skin a certain kind of shimmer that would surely match her confident gaze. Yet Josiah saw no beauty. He only noticed her presence, nothing more.

"Evo," he called her name, a name he'd deemed her at a young age, as he descended down the marble staircase of splendid white. She peeled away form the window in a flurry of fabric at the drop of a hat. He'd barely made it to the blood red carpet before she crashed into him with open arms. He replied with a stiff back and unwilling arms that remained at his sides.

"It's been too long, my love," she was sure to feel the disagreeing flinch at her words, but she continued, "I've missed you."

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Heshire, Corwin​

The words Eleanor spoke seemed to hang in the air, adding to the agonizing silence the palace had adopted over the last few months. Her threshold for security and comfort was beginning to peek and the woman could only do what she knew would help. It only took the look in her eye to inform Margaret of her next move and before long, the two were skittering down the hall of the first floor until they met large, windowed double doors.

The brunette swung them open with gusto and her eyes scanned the surrounding area. Multiple hues of red, pink, purple, and gold blessed her artful soul as she took in the beautiful sight. This garden was probably her favorite place in the kingdom for two reasons. First, it was specifically designed to her liking and it radiated a zen aura in every direction. Second, her favorite person tended to it.

The smile on Eleanor's face was hard to miss when her eyes finally fell upon whom she was looking for. A brief glance was all she needed, however, she always ended up staring for a second to long and this time was no exception. The gardener was a sight to behold. His dark brown hair was short and wavy, barely touching the tips of his tanned ears. From afar his eyes probably appeared black but anyone who stood up close that they were actually a tantalizing gray. They were always filled with joy and that was something Eleanor had found comforting since her younger years.

"Princess Eleanor!" The man said as he stood up from his crouched position, realizing the young woman had made an appearance. "I haven't seen you in so long. What brings you here?" Eleanor didn't want to reveal her true intentions for showing up unannounced because that would mean admitting all the other times she'd appeared. It was embarrassing and honestly taboo. A princess and a gardener... what a laugh.

Even so, she couldn't ignore the warmth that seemed to always rush to her cheeks when she saw him or the quick thumping in her chest when he spoke.

Eleanor's smile widened, the curiosity from earlier completely replaced by tranquility. "Hello, Lukas. It has been a while." She turned towards the flowers and felt a loving glow surround her. "I just wanted to see the garden is all. Winter is finally starting to reach this side of the kingdom and I don't know if I'll be able to wait for next spring."

Lukas' deep, hearty laugh sent a wave of butterflies into Eleanor's stomach, prompting the girl to fiddle with the hem of her blouse and almost bounce from foot to foot. She hated how she returned to being a teenager whenever her childhood crush was around but there wasn't much she could do about it. "Deal with it or never see him again "is what she'd often tell herself.

"I see, I see," responded Lukas, offering the woman a new pair of gloves. "Well, since you are here Princess Eleanor, would you like to tend to the garden for what could possibly be the last time of the season?"

A moment of hesitation washed over the princess because she was often advised by her grandmother to not spend so much time with the gardener's family. According to the old woman, it was frowned upon but Eleanor would always criticize the elder because she herself told stories of her time with a stable boy. It was hypocritical and the thought of hypocrisy made Eleanor's blood boil.
With a huff she accepted the offer only to hear a loud cough from across the yard.

Margaret gave her friend a warning look, but Eleanor's stubbornness disregarded the woman and she turned her full attention to the beautiful god next to her.

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:20px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

"It's been too long, my love," she was sure to feel the disagreeing flinch at her words, but she continued, "I've missed you." She tucked her head under his chin, a feat that was rather difficult at first as she was just a tad taller than he, and missed the roll of his eyes. A quick pat to her back was the only response she would get from him when it came to physical contact. Anything more would encourage her, give her the wrong idea. It had happened before and he wasn't fond of having something like that occur a second time.

She finally drew back, but insisted upon letting her hands rest on his shoulders. "Are you not happy to see me?" Evonne gave a small tilt to her head, a flutter of long eyelashes, and a seemingly delicate smile. Her demand for affection drew an unnecessary breath. It made him miss the old Evonne, the one from his childhood. The Evonne from that time didn't flirt or gush as she did now. She didn't press him for affection or attention as she did now.

If he didn't reply positively, he'd likely hear it later from his mother. Evonne was head over heels for him, that much was clear, but it didn't mean she wouldn't throw a temper tantrum if he replied negatively. It also didn't mean that she wouldn't go to his mother to whine and complain. It had happened many times before, and each time he found himself surrendering. It was easier to do as she wanted now rather than gathering undesired and irrelevant attention, and it seemed to make their meetings go by faster.

"I am, I assure you." He managed a smile, one that curled up the right side of his face. "I've just a lot on my mind." The words left him in a rush, having been the first to come to mind, and he'd instantly regretted it.

The chance for conversation and being able to convey concern seemed to make her smile brighter, harder. "Oh, pray tell?"

Of all the people, she would be the last to hear of his troubles. It wasn't out of spite or hatred, but sharing them would surely do him no good. "It's nothing dire," he began, catching her narrowing gaze, "just curiosity. Father has summoned a meeting," he paused, a thought coming to mind, "have you heard?" Kesler had surely known something... perhaps she'd know and actually tell him.

She finally released him, and he took the freedom to straighten his suit jacket. "His majesty has called my family as well; however, I'm not sure what the reason for the summons may be. Perhaps it's to discuss the reconstruction of Vitros? After all, I believe the damage was cleaned up a few weeks ago." She referred to the latest attack by the humans. A nuclear attack that had killed over one hundred and fifty Borealis. It was possible, but the clan leaders and his fiancee wouldn't be involved if it were true. At least, they hadn't in previous meetings that revolved around revitalization.

Was it even about the war? Were they planning a grand attack or expecting one? Surely they hadn't lost... surely his father wasn't thinking on surrendering to such a weak, inferior race? He scrunched up his nose at the very idea. They would have to kill him before he allowed his country to surrender to such vile creatures. "My love?" Evonne's melodic voice pulled him back to the foyer, her hands back at his shoulders. He took her hands in his quickly and pulled them away before pushing them back against her chest, "Come, let's not waste any time."
Josiah hesitated at the large oak doors, one hand hovering over the wooden finish while his other arm was occupied in a forced arm lock with Evonne. They'd made their way through the corridors in relative silence, of which he had been grateful for, but she'd insisted on clinging onto him during their walk. It bothered him, but he kept it to himself. That wasn't why he paused at the door, no, it was the worry that had begun to boil up inside him. It was the worry that made his hands itch, made the fire within him dim at the thought of surrendering. Surely that wasn't what this summons was about, surely. And if it was? Moments ago he'd assured himself he'd rather die than allow his country to surrender, but he wasn't quite ready to die yet or so easily for that matter.

A kiss on his cheek from Evonne brought him back once more. If he wasn't tied to her he surely would have thrown her across the hall. She knew how much he hated-

"Ah, there you are my son." It took all he had to not give away his distaste as he turned to meet his father face to face. Evonne immediately bowed her head, and leaned against him as if giving him silent - useless - support. "I was afraid you'd be late again." The old king smiled smugly, and Josiah forced a mimicking smile of his own. It had been one time when he was much younger, but his father seemed to fancy bringing up past mistakes. The king of Borealis took Evonne's free hand in his and kissed the back of it, "and it is a pleasure to see your beautiful face again, my dear." When he withdrew, Josiah caught the age in his features. The wrinkles were deeper than before, especially around his eyes, and the gray was much more prominent in the sea of dark brown hair. Although his kind did not age as humans did, it was a reminder that soon Josiah would be tasked with the full responsibility of protecting the kingdom... if there was even a kingdom left to protect.

If it were anyone else, he would have asked the reason for the meeting, but he knew better than to pepper his father with questions. Especially if his father caught on to his worries, he'd likely take offense to them. Instead he followed his father into the strategy room. The room itself had a more prestigious name, but he'd called it the "strategy room" sine as long as he could remember. It was a large circular room that was split into two sides that were on either side of the large doors. One side was dedicated to a table of a large-scale map of the world and a wall of picture frames that honored past military leaders and clan leaders while the other side was dedicated to a more technological theme. The wall was plastered with monitors from floor to ceiling, and they wrapped around until they hid the center of the room. Each monitor buzzed and flickered between frames, the pictures feeds from surveillance cameras around the kingdom and from the naval and air force fleets. In front of the wall was a large panel with a maze of buttons and levers, each option labelled and color coated.

They all gathered around the round table that stood as the room's centerpiece. Its legs were shaped in waves, the wood curved and rounded like the folds in the sea. The glass top etched with designs that mimicked marine life. It didn't quite fit well as it had been a last minute addition after the room had been finished.

It had been a while since Josiah had been in the room, and he'd forgotten how small it actually was when more than three people inhabited it. Four clan leaders, his mother, Evonne and he, and the three military branch leaders made the room rather cramped and hot. His bedroom was probably larger than this room.

"All right, let us begin business, shall we?" His father began.

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Heshire, Corwin​

Time was spent chatting and laughing over nonsense and before Eleanor realized how many hours were wasted away, it was already time to start getting ready. A feeling of sadness filled her stomach, even though she was able to forget her responsibilities for the briefest second. Departure from the solace of Lukas was always unfortunate, but it was moments like these that gave her courage when she needed it and if not courage, purpose at the very least.

"Princess." Margaret's almost voice echoed throughout the courtyard. Both Eleanor and Lukas turned their heads in response,
Lukas' smile flickering to a frown at the word. It could have easily been missed but Eleanor had known the man for so long that it would have been impossible for her to not notice. The thought of him disliking their separation as much as she warmed her heart and she could feel her cheeks beginning to rise to the occasion as well.

"Well," began Eleanor as she stood up to pat her jeans clean, "I guess that's the signal for me to leave."

The look on Lukas' face told her that he was quite curious as to why, which wasn't a surprise. It was very rare for her to leave the garden before sunset once she started playing in the dirt like the adult-child she was. As much as Eleanor wanted to tell Lukas of why she was leaving so soon, even she didn't know the reason and it was probably classified anyways. All she could manage to say was, "Father's ordered a meeting and wants everyone to attend." And by everyone, she speculated the king meant the entire royal family, the four cardinal Dukes, and the three military branch leaders.

After saying their goodbyes, Eleanor went indoors with Margaret and began the long ascension to the fourth floor. One would think that with all the major advancements in technology over the last century, her father could at least considered adding an elevator when the palace was first built. His for not doing so was, "History is a beautiful thing and what castle or palace has an elevator that you know of?" Indeed, having to climb three flights of stairs every day was a hassle but her father was right when he said history was beautiful. The intricate designs in the walls and the pristine white floors and staircases were enough to make the woman feel like she was in a dream. Although, they also brought upon memories that she was not too fond of.

Finally, the female companion duo reached Eleanor's room, which was marked by large white double doors. Her room was rather large with a walk-in closet on the left side upon entering and staircase which led to the bathroom above. The bed, set in the center of the area, was rounded and matched the theme of white, cream, and pink. Pink was her favorite color predictably, but she didn't like it so much that her room still had a natural, cozy feeling to it.

After showering, Eleanor walked to her closet while ushering Margaret along with her for advice. Formal wear was not her specialty because she dreaded the feeling of exposure between her legs. Because of her dislike, it was up to Margaret to choose a gown and it wasn't like the girl didn't know what she was doing either. She studied fashion before she became a full-time employee at the palace. Why she returned after getting an education is unknown to Eleanor but she does know that she's happy to have her best friend around.

"This one!" Margaret beamed as she held out a dress for Eleanor to examine. The look on the princess's face was one of hesitation because she didn't know how business-like the piece of attire was. Nevertheless, she put it on anyways and what she saw in the mirror baffled her. It wasn't as snazzy as she thought it was and was actually more sophisticated than it appeared. The light cream colored cloth formed a v-line that stopped just above her cleavage. Her shoulder's were revealed but not so much that she needed something to cover them if it ever got chilly. The hem of her dress stopped right below the knee and the entire dress in general and a silky, flowing feel to it. It was comfortable yet professional enough that it could be short. With a pair of heels the outfit was perfect, even if Eleanor now towered over her friend by nearly a foot.

Talking wasn't always necessary for the two so once her Eleanor's outfit was determine, her hair was dried, and there was a fresh layer of natural makeup on, it was time to head to conference room.

Much like the rest of the palace, it was larger than necessary. In the center there was a half oval-shaped table with the most curved position marking the king's seat. On the walls, there were maps and and older strategies pinned to the walls as if they were symbols of honor and victory. It was rather boastful but Corwinians always took pride in defeating Borealis in some way. There wasn't much else in the room, making it emptier and colder than it needed to be, but a conference room was just a conference room and Eleanor didn't see why there would be much else. Maybe a potted plant in the corner but...

A cough caught the woman's attention as she nearly jumped from her spot. An old, calloused hand caught her wrist and when she looked up, she saw the gleaming eyes of her father. He looked much older than his age now, with his blonde hair beginning to gray and pepper in different places. Without the graying hair, however, he would have looked his age or even younger because Baux members always tended to look younger than their true age.

"Take a seat now, Sweetheart." Alaric ordered quietly, to which Eleanor nodded and sat between her brothers Jeremiah and Harold.

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:15px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

​

They gathered around the table in a hushed silence which only made Josiah worry more. Was it that bad? He took the seat by his mother, and she greeted him with a side smile before turning her gaze upon the rest of the congregation. Having Evonne's father here was a blessing, she'd finally left his side to be beside her father who sat opposite of his mother and he. Then again, he wasn't quite sure if he favored the freedom. Everyone took a seat, all but the king, and there was only one other empty chair left and it just had to be the one on his other side. Yet his father remained standing, but his gaze never left Josiah.

"As you know, we reached a stalemate with the humans over a century ago," the congregation nodded, "and our economy is suffering from this war because of it." Josiah glanced at each and every person in the room, reading confusion on every single face. They didn't know either? His gaze settled on his mother with her stern, disapproving expression that he'd grown to recognize as a look she gave when she'd received troubling news. "This war has lasted for years, we've neither progressed nor digressed, and after the latest nuclear attack, I've come to a realization that this war is pointless. What happened happened and cannot be undone-" he looked up then, from his mother's ominous gaze, "-I believe it's time to move on."

That's it? That's it? He felt the fire within him boil, felt his palms itch. Quistis didn't deserve death. She didn't need to die. A meaningless war, one that lasted this long, and no retribution? He'd lost a part of himself that day, the day that started everything. He'd trained, trained every day to acquire the ability over three elements. He'd pushed and pulled, gone above and below, and now it was over, just like that? Humans were vile, humans were greedy. Humans were-"That's it?" He finally spoke the words that rattled in his head, the words that were surely fueling his dormant aura into an inferno. Only when his hand had slammed on the glass table had he realized that he'd stood up from his seat, "we're just going to let them off, just like that?" He couldn't help it, couldn't retreat or bite his tongue. No, he was too angry, to consumed by the rage that he managed to hold back.

"Josiah,"

"No, they've done so much damage toward this kingdom. We cannot allow them to walk away like this. Humans are evil, father, you said that yourself. They'll turn on us once we turn our backs."

"Son."

He would have kept going, kept raging, if it were not for the hand that rested on his own. Josiah looked over, catching the warning look of his mother as her hand tightened atop his.

"I don't trust the humans either, but this kingdom needs peace. This war was not about your childish revenge, it was about protecting the people from them. However, it's gone on long enough." He wanted to interject, but he felt his mother's hand tighten once more, "The human royals, your mother, and I have agreed for peace."

"But your majesty, what will stop them from attacking us again?" Evonne spoke up, earning a glare from her father.

His father sighed, "We've arranged a marriage."

The fire within died completely, like a breath to flame. Marriage. He backpedaled from the table, wrenched his hand away from his mother's grasp, "Marriage?" He repeated.

"The Crown Prince and Princess, Josiah from the North and Eleanor from the South, will wed. The marriage will be a symbol of the peace between North and South." His father turned, ignoring the look of repulsed shock on his son's face, and addressed Evonne, "I apologize, Lady Evonne."

Unlike him, she seemed to take it fairly well despite her eyes never meeting his father's, "I understand, your majesty. It's for the good of the kingdom."

For the good of the kingdom, what a laugh. He would have laughed aloud then and there if the urge to vomit wasn't so strong. Hell, he would have turned back time over and over - if he could - so that he wouldn't have to be in this situation. Yet here he was, like a deer caught in headlights, ready to throw up what little he'd eaten. He couldn't bear the idea of being in the same room as a human let alone marrying one.

"The princess and her entourage will arrive two days from now." His mother had finally spoken, but he'd barely heard it.

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Heshire, Corwin​

As Eleanor found her seat between the two eldest boys, the queen followed suit and made her place known next to the king and the younger Baux children afterwards. One by one the highest ranking officials took their seat, the blue eyed woman smiling warmly at each of them. Her smile lingered on one of Generals, whom responded the same. He and his family had always been kind to her, even in the direst of moments during these cruel times.

The quiet chit chatter ceased as soon as her father rose his hand, signaling everyone's absolute attention. For the third time that day, curiosity seemed take control although this time it was much more overwhelming. Alaric's eyes seemed to constantly look at the group and then back at her, making the girl tilt her head in slight confusion. Did she look odd? Was her dress not as appropriate as she'd believed? Thoughts swarmed in her head until words finally exited her father's mouth.

"As you all are aware," he began slowly, pausing as if he had to plan his next sentence, "the war between humans and the Borealis has gone on for centuries, leading to terrible losses on both sides." Everyone nodded in agreement, a majority of them seeming to gloat over the fact that the other side casualties were their doings. The king, however, ignored these petty nods and continued on, his eyes flickering from them to Eleanor and back again. "Our country has grown, yes, but the economy and morale of our people have neither fell below the median nor gone above. No one is happy and after sitting down with my adviser and your queen, we've decided to put a complete end of the war."

A wave of gasps filled the room and heads turned from side to side, as if the person next to them knew something about this sudden decision. Eleanor herself looked at her older brother and he seemed to be as befuddled as she, and maybe even enraged that this decision was made without the Crown Prince of Corwin.

"That's not all." The silence returned. "I've been communicating with King Damase about how to end this seemingly endless struggle,
and we have both agreed on a marriage between Crown Prince Josiah and our dearest Princess Eleanor."

Eleanor was fiddling with the hem of her dress when the words marriage, prince, and her name seemed to all suddenly invade her mind like an unholy film. Her mouth fell open and her eyes felt like they were bulging out of their sockets. "What?" was all she could manage to say as everyone was already voicing their distress. "What?!" Eleanor exclaimed as she shot out from her seat, her chair falling to the carpeted floor in the process. Her palms began sweating, her heart pounded, and the sadness, anger, and confusion built in her like volcano that was about to erupt.

All her father did, however, was dismiss the group before making his way out the door. Eleanor rushed after him, awkwardly at that due to the heels, and caught his arm. "Father, what is the meaning of this?" she asked, the hurt in her voice so clear it could have pierced the strongest fiber. "What do you mean I'm getting married to Prince Josiah? He's the enemy. H-he's a monst-"

"Eleanor." Alaric silenced, his authoritarian voice coming into play. "I know this decision must upset you but as a member of the royal family, it is your duty to put the people first. Consider this one of those duties."

With that, he left his shaken daughter alone, his footsteps echoing throughout the hallway.

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:15px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

​

The meeting had adjourned hours ago, but Josiah remained, clutching it for dear life. His mother sat beside him, his father lingering across the table. It wasn't necessarily fear that had overtaken him. No, he wasn't scared for his life, humans were far from scary. It was more so the fact that his country was about to side once more with the humans. It was the fact that he was about to be forced to be with one for the rest of his life. It was anger, not fear. All that he'd worked for, strove for... for nothing.

"You can't keep hanging onto the past, son." He flinched at the dryness in his father's voice. It must've been easy for him... then again, he hadn't been there when Josiah, Qustis, and the kingdom's ambassador and royal bodyguard had been ambushed. He hadn't seen what Josiah had seen, hadn't watched as his twin was brutally murdered. He didn't feel that pain, the connection between twins being severed. It felt like a stab to the heart, felt like the ice of winter. He hand't been there, clutching her burnt body. The fire that day, the fire that ended Quistis' life, had been brutal and unforgiving. It was the event that had triggered Josiah's ability to manipulate fire, but the elemental response had been too late. He had been too weak then to withstand the demands that the ability had. "People change, even the humans." His father added, earning a warning look from his wife.

King Damase leaned against the table and tapped a hand against the glass table top, "It's time for you to grow up. You're a Crown Prince, start acting like it. That outburst during the meeting was uncalled for. A king never shows his subjects such emotion. It's ridiculous, uncalled for, and unnecessary. You can't wear your emotions on your sleeve, Josiah."

Damase's wife shook her head then, "Love, imagine how difficult this may be for him. The humans are ruthless, and they did kill our daughter."

"Yes, Quistis' death was surely a tragedy. I do miss her, often, but we must move on. As a future leader, you need to let things like this roll off your back. If it does not benefit the country then it does not deserve time, effort, or emotions."


The Day of Arrival

Josiah waded through the Mervia forest that aligned the very back of the Tacet castle. Perhaps it was the pressure of dread that rested on his shoulders, the dim flicker of anger that resided in his gut, or the hunger that had overtaken him that made his stride through the thick snow feel odd and uncomfortable. He didn't even stop to admire the waterfall of ice that hung from the forest trees. Usually the Borealis winters were enchanting, mesmerizing. The cold temperatures, blankets of snow, and ice, and the constant flurry of snow was always welcomed in Borealis. Winter's touch didn't quite bother his kind, not like it did with humans, and it was rather addictive to breathe it in. Breathing wasn't a necessity, but it was practiced and had become normal as back in the 1940s, it had scared and confused the humans on why Borealis didn't breathe. Wasn't it the humans who were scary and confusing? Wasn't it odd that they didn't live off the natural energy of the world? Josiah wasn't one who practiced breath regularly, but when he was enveloped by winter, he would breathe in until the chill made his throat numb. It was comforting, but today he didn't breathe in. He didn't stop to enjoy the beautiful sights that Mother Nature had gifted his country. Instead he continued a silent walk, cutting the smooth, bulbous mountains of snow with an awkward step.

Kesler trailed behind him in relative silence, footfalls sounding more like a whisper of leaves in the wind then a crunch of snow beneath boot. Although Josiah had insisted, his adviser had followed. "I worry about you," was what Josiah had been told, but he knew better. The adviser likely wanted to make sure that he ate and ate well. His father had probably ordered it, not trusting him in the slightest. After all, what a climax in war that would be if the humans were to lose their precious princess to a hungry Borealis prince, today? He scoffed at the idea. It would only make the countries fair, in his opinion. Albeit if he wanted to, he'd likely not last long enough to even attempt it. The hunger was much more powerful than his grudge.

A hunger for a human was a feeling of emptiness, but for a Borealis it was the feeling of suffocation. It was a hot and heavy tidal wave clawing its way down the throat, an unsettling simmer in the stomach, and the sensation of being burned alive. To say it was painful was an understatement. It dragged down the body. It picked away at sanity, at humanity. It clouded judgement and ability. If he didn't eat, he'd likely go wild and eat the closest, living sack of flesh. But thankfully it wasn't that bad. He'd had it bad once, after Quistis' death. The very reminder of it made him shudder. Humans feared the Borealis for no reason, but a hungry Borealis... that was something to be afraid of.

He paused in his stride, resting a hand on an icy, skeletal tree trunk. A sound, long and scratchy, reverberated to the East and it had pulled him to a stop. Deer. The forest was home to deer, the forest existed for the deer. The forest was a breeding ground for them, as well as a killing floor. They were easy to breed and easy to kill.

The prince crouched down beside the skinny tree, and tested the air. It was blowing against him, good, nature was on his side. The same sound, a deer's call, resounded again and he turned his head toward it. It was close, good. He stood up then readied himself into a runner's stance.

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Heshire, Corwin > Jade Sea (by the Southerners)​

There was nothing more embarrassing than being shut off by one's father in front of a group of important people, and later being ignored as one stands in an endless hallway. It only made things worse that Eleanor's father was the king of an entire nation. Eleanor felt belittled as she stood alone, forced to dwell in her own thoughts, but she understood that her father was right when he said it was her duty as a princess. The very fact that he brought up her complex meant he was aware that regardless of her stance and emotions, she would do what's believed to be the best for Corwin and its people.

Margaret was peeking around the corner when she was the gaping princess. Her eyes were full of concern as she rushed over, hands shaking in fear as if she knew what was going on, which was the truth. Just moments before the meeting, servants were whispering about the topic at hand. The leak was insignificant because it would eventually become known to the whole world that Princess Eleanor of the South would marry her fated enemy of the North. Even so, the fact that people were already gossiping about the marriage pinched Eleanor's soul.

"You knew?" Eleanor both asked and stated, her voice trembling at the last syllable. Margaret could only nod and offer a consoling smiling, explaining that one of the servants had accidentally learned of the news beforehand. She also continued to explain that she didn't hear of the news until Eleanor had already entered the room, meaning it was too late to inform her of anything.

"I see..." Eleanor muttered she quickly averted her eyes to avoid them being seen. They were beginning to glaze over and she knew she had to leave before anyone saw her tears. Seeing the one of the royal break down was not a sight a member outside her family should witness. "I will be going now," was all the woman could manage before fumbling away awkwardly, the comfort of her room her only possible destination.

Once she was there, her shoes immediately came off and her body sunk into the bed's satin sheets. Tears streamed wildly as they were no longer being held back, staining the light fabric of both her blanket and dress. For the remainder of that night, all she could seem to do was mope. It was unladylike of her and the opposite of what a responsible princess could do, but that night and the next twenty-four hours were all she had before she needed to turn herself into stone.


Arrival Day

The sun wasn't even close to rising when Eleanor woke up and unsurprisingly, her blanket was halfway touching the floor. As posh as the woman attempted to make her out to be, nothing would change her terrible sleeping habits. Tossing and turning were only some of the things Margaret had said she'd observed, with muttering nonsense coming in as a close third. Luckily, maidservant was the only one allowed to entered Eleanor's room during the early mornings so there wasn't much need to be self-conscious.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Margaret spoke quietly as Eleanor stood from her bed. "I've prepared your attire for the trip. I chose white turtleneck sweater, paired black jeggings and riding boots for light comfort since it's not cold outside and the flight will be long. There will also be a black coat waiting for you when we arrive because I believe Borealis snows quite a bit this year."

Eleanor chuckled at her friend's formal words. "How many times do I have to tell you not to speak to me that way when it's just us? We've known each other all our lives and you still treat me like I'm just your employer." Through the dim lighting of a nearby lamp, she could see Margaret smile happily at those words, knowing full well of what she meant. That only made the woman shake her head before finally beginning her daily routine of getting ready. "Well, I suppose it's time get ready and meet my fiance, isn't it?"

Those words came out more bitterly than she had intended, but bitter is probably all she could feel at that point, besides tiny hints of sorrow and fear. Those three feelings remained with her as she dressed, ate, and began the journey to the private jet that would transport her to the northern country. Her mind wandered to all the memories she'd gained while living in her home country and the thought of actually leaving it never truly crossed her mind until then. From the moment she sets her feet on foreign soil, all she'll have with her to remind her of Corwin are Margaret and her newly assigned bodyguard.

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:15px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

​

Its breath came out in thick, white puffs, brown fur bristling against the cold of winter. The doe paused, black eyes searching for what it had lost. Hesitance drove it to step forward as softly as possible, but it was almost impossible to walk silently with hooves on hard, crunching snow. It tested the air once, twice, before it bayed again. It was growing desperate now. Its voice was likely to travel, likely to catch a predator's attention, but motherly instinct out-ruled its fear. Taking another step, it paused by a snowdrift to scent its surroundings. Only cold earth and dead wood greeted it.

He cut through the snow like a bullet. Surging forward with a shuddering silence before he launched himself over the massive snowdrift. The doe bolted then, hooves skidding in the ice, and he landed just in reach with a resounding crack. Yet the doe was quick and within the breadth of a second it was out of reach, but the challenge made it all the more fun. He moved after it in quick succession, relying on the abundance of adrenaline to keep up a pace with it as it darted between tree lines. Unlike him, it was riddled with fear and clumsy. Its turns were too sharp, the forest floor too slick, and it ran blindly.

The forest opened up, canopy thinning as the trees became less and less, to a pond encased in ice. Hooves met the clear ice and the doe slid. It flailed, its body being propelled in every direction as it scrambled for purchase on the glaze. He paused at the pond for only a moment before moving forward, and immediately he was met with the crackling sound of deteriorating ice. Yet he still pressed forward, sliding steadily toward the deer that had slowed down in its escape, twig-legs still scrambling yet getting nowhere. Beneath the pair, the ice visibly cracked. It groaned as the crack spread like a disease, branching off and deepening. It summoned the water underneath, bone chilling water that climbed forth from the cracks with agonizingly slow speed. Gradually the pond's encasement weakened, and he felt his traction faltering. His right foot slipped on a crack, kicking it deeper and causing water to gush out, as he slid right onto the deer.

It squawked and kicked wildly as they both fell on the crumbling surface. Hooves grazed broken ice, weakening it further, and with a murmured string of vulgarities, Josiah grabbed the deer by its neck and clawed his way to the other side of the pond. Yet the ice fell, the water devouring it as it flooded over, and down he and the deer went into the suffocating cold. It screamed at him, right in his ear, as it shook wildly in the icy depths; however, the cold didn't effect him. If anything, it made him tired. If anything, it dulled his senses. If he were to remain in it, it would surely do some damage, but he had time and so he waded through it to the other side with a casual stride.

By the time he'd reached land, the deer had fallen limp and quiet in his grasp. Good, he preferred it if they were unconscious, made it easier on his conscience. He laid it down onto the snowy bank, and crouched beside it until he was hovering only inches away from its chest. A Borealis required living flesh. Blood was almost as efficient, but it was similar to a human drinking alcohol, it wasn't a necessity. All other food was tasteless fodder that was merely practiced like the tradition of irrelevant breathing. It had been too appease the confused and scared humans, and had later evolved into a meaningless tradition. It didn't matter what part that the flesh came from, but the heart was the most sufficient. It gave the most energy and appeased the hungry monster that rested within. Still, he had to take a moment and prepare himself. Even if he wasn't on the verge of starving, a Borealis couldn't quite contain their animalistic instincts when it came to eating. If there was another living being in close proximity, he'd attack it blindly during the feasting of his initial prey. That and he didn't quite like how messy it could get. Then again, it would be a marvelous way to meet his bride-to-be.

The Mervia airport hugged the back of the Borealis kingdom, next to the forest. Like the civilian boat docks of Mervia, the facility had been long forgotten by the populous. There was no need for travel outside of the continent, and so it had been taken by the royal air force as a secondary base yet it had been rarely used since the war. Out of miles upon miles of airstrip, only one remained clear of debris from past air strikes, of weather damage from past winters, and of old airplanes that had been damaged in later battles. Out of thirty-three airline planes, only three remained intact, but they stood in hangars covered in thick layers of dust. With the weathered damage, evidence of past human attacks, and the assortment of planes scattered around, the airport resembled a graveyard more than a facility for transportation or a secondary base.

When he'd been much younger, the airport had been his favorite place to be. The place was silent, devoid of life, and offered good hiding places that he'd used often to escape the overbearing responsibility of being the Crown Prince. Not only that, but the planes were fun to climb on. "Playgrounds are no place for a prince," so he'd relied on the graveyard of airplanes for amusement. Back then, it was a momentary escape from the weight that his lineage carried. Now, it was a what he could only describe as a place akin to hell. He stood against the glass windows that overlooked the active airstrip, watching as the runway men scrambled around to fix dead lights or remove debris. They'd already cleaned up the airport lobby, even went as far as to turn on the heat just for her whenever she arrived.

Damn her. He didn't even know of her, but the fact that she was human and the fact that he had to wear a stiff, itchy suit for her was enough for him to detest her. The whole thing was pointless. Humans, as always, were vile. Something like a marriage between their species wouldn't end the war, surely.

"Josiah," his mother drew him away, having sensed the negativity that radiated off his aura, "come, let me fix your collar." She'd taken a seat behind him within the rows and rows of chairs. His father was still at the castle, having to deal with a civil matter, so it was just him and the queen. He nodded solemnly, pulling away from the glass, and she stood up in her satin red skirts to meet him halfway. Yet when she stopped before him, she didn't fix his collar. No, she hugged him. It surprised him and he awkwardly returned the embrace. "I'm sorry that we couldn't have told you about this sooner. I know you were looking forward to your betrothal to Evonne." Since when? He looked to the side, bit his lip to keep the words at bay. "But this will be good for the war, for both countries."

There it was again. An optimistic promise that was already overly used.

"Just remember to be on your best behavior." He nodded and she pulled away from him, "Remember the arrangements?"

"Yes, mother, how could I forget? Kesler has practically shoved them down my throat. When the plane arrives, we are to meet her along with the cameramen and royal guard. If anything is to happen then I and the human will promptly leave and head to the hangar where we will be transported to the safety of the castle. If everything goes as planned, we are to be transported to the Tacet manor," Josiah droned.

The Tacet manor, the very name of the estate made his stomach churn. Ever since Quistis' death, he abhorred that piece of property. It had been a refuge during the fleeting summers, a place of laughter and smiles where responsibility, war, and anger weren't in his vocabulary. It never was quite the same since then. Like the airport, it too was a graveyard. Rather, a tomb of memories. Nevertheless, it was the safest place to be besides the castle.

"But do we have to be shoved together so quickly? We won't be married off right away." And for that he had had a small hope that the agreement between the countries would falter during the time before the wedding. Of course, Kesler had to ruin that hope and inform him that it had been the request of the Southern kingdom, to wait a time until the promise became official with the ceremony. Truthfully he found the request odd, but his adviser had continually suggested that perhaps it was only fair. After all, for the treaty to be effective the princess had to cross enemy lines while he was able to remain in his own kingdom.

His mother hadn't answered, instead she turned her back to him to greet Kesler who had come out from one of the gates. He bowed slightly before straightening, and said, "The watch tower has confirmed sighting the princess' plane over the Hyacin sea. Perhaps an hour out."

New, Royal Bodyguard with the School-Boy-Crush (permission to "control" him granted)

Despite having underwent extensive training, it would be an understatement to say that he, a royal bodyguard, was nervous. Devon shifted uncomfortably in his black suit and continuously adjusted his blue tie with the royal family's crest repeatedly until his neck hurt. Already he'd fumbled and stumbled when it came to using the earpiece and checking in with airport security. All that training had went down the drain and at the worst time too.

He stood beside the airplane that the princess would board, the plane that would surely lead them all to their death. Perhaps it was that idea that drove him to discomfort. No, he knew better. He hadn't seen the princess for years due to focusing on the requirements to achieve the status of bodyguard.

She'd likely forgotten him, it was so long ago since they'd last spoken, and back then the conversations had been brief. Yet he remembered her. He remembered their brief talks while his father and the king had their political and strategical meetings. Well, to say that they talked was a weak lie. She'd only greet him with a nod as she passed the hall, replying to his respectful bow. Nevertheless, he remembered them as clear as day and he missed them. Yeah, it was just a brief acknowledgement, but it was enough for him. For thirteen years, he'd been away, and had lost all possible contact with her. He'd even scrounged enough money during boot camp to buy the newspapers just to see how she was fairing. He should have "grown a pair" and just tried talking to her then.

"The eagle has landed." Came a broken and crackled voice. He'd had to push the earpiece in just to catch the phrase. "10-4," he replied.

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Heshire, Corwin > Jade Sea (by the Southerners)​

Upon arriving at the Corwin airport, a couple things came into a view. The first were the warm lights that radiated from the terminal's wide windows, signifying that things were busy as usual. It wasn't odd to see an airport open these days because people were still trying to return to the former years when aircraft trading and business was popular. Secondly, and most vividly, was the crowd of citizens that had gathered near Eleanor's plane. People had pained emotions etched onto their facial features, adding to the bit of sorrow that had collected throughout the car ride. Many of them had signs asking why such a thing was happening and others pleaded that the princess didn't leave. Her tears were difficult to hide as she was ushered out the wheeled vehicle and towards the jet.

A man was standing there, but her eyes were so full of tears that she couldn't get a good look at his face. All the saddened female could do was offer a polite nod and quiet, "Thank you" before finding a seat. Margaret had sat next to her under Eleanor's wish and the two gave one another reassuring hand squeezes. The flight would be long and even though the maidservant advised that Eleanor should try to get more sleep in, all she could do was stare out the window. Who knew when she'd be able to see this scene again. Or if, for that matter.

Mervia, Borealis​

The captain had informed over the intercom that they'd land in Meriva in a mere thirty minutes. Throughout the flight, Eleanor's mood had been blue and melancholic, however the announcement seemed to turn her into stone. She could feel emotions somewhat harden in an attempt to prepare herself for what was to come, but she knew someone would be able to see through that facade.

Her thoughts then wandered to the guard who stood outside her plane when she first boarded. She never got his name or looked at his face, prompting her to feel a bit frustrated with herself. Rudeness was something Eleanor despised and so she took it upon herself to leave her seat and greet the man. Thankfully he wasn't sitting too far as her clumsiness and turbulence was causing her to waddle from one foot to the next. When her blue eyes fell upon him, a graceful smile fell onto her lips.

"Devon," Eleanor said warmly, instantly recognizing the man. They hardly ever spoke as children but she never forgot a name and face after learning it once. That might have been a quirk of hers if not a talent. "You're that Devon years ago, aren't you?" With a slight head tilt, she took a seat facing him so they could hold a conversation easier. He seemed almost surprised at the sudden engagement, which wasn't a surprise. A lot of people were amazed at Eleanor's excellent memory.

His mouth opened as if he were going to reply but something must of notified him of their arrival. "You should return to your seat and secure your seat belt, Princess Eleanor. We are minutes from landing," was all he said, leading to Eleanor frowning internally but obliging any how. She clumsily maneuvered her way back to Margaret and buckled the clasp on her seat belt. Within seconds the roar of the engine, or maybe it was the wind, got louder as the plane began it's descension from the sky. Landing was the worst part when it came to flying in Eleanor's opinion and she always ended up gripping the arm rest until her knuckles turned ghost white.

After a rough meeting with the ground, Eleanor and her entourage had finally made it to their destination. She had to take a few moments to collect herself because her head grew a bit foggy. Could she really do this? What if this is just a scheme to hold her captive?
What if she died right then and there?

In spite of the negative questions that filled her mind, she got up and walked through the tunnel to the terminal. Through the tiny fogged windows, she could see a thick blanket of snow covering the large space. The planes seemed as if they hadn't been used in years and in contrast to the airport in Corwin, there weren't any people or bright lights to characterize the place. It was quiet and lonely, making Eleanor think that the terminal would be a metaphor for her life if she made it through the day.

With ginger steps, cold air seeped through the thin walls of the tunnel and Eleanor thanked Margaret for readying a coat. Everyone in Corwin knew it was much colder in the north but the princess never imagined it was that cold. Her body began to shiver in an attempt to stay warm and she wondered if Devon or Margaret were the same. Devon seemed to be fine but that could have been a face every bodyguard she'd ever had would show. Margaret, on the other hand, was shivering as much as Eleanor and maybe even more.
The woman chuckled quietly as her friend shot her a pitiful look before a wall of warmth hit her.

Sighing as her cold body thawed out and assuring that her two companions felt better, Eleanor had failed to notice the small a few feet away. The look they gave her was unreadable from the distance they were, but she could have guessed it was either an act of kindness or their true feelings towards her presence. Nonetheless, one figure stood out the most and the woman could immediately identify him.

Josiah Tacet, crown prince of Mervia and her supposed fiance.

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:15px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

​

Devon wanted to either spontaneously combust or smile like an idiot when the princess sat across from him. Yet he refrained, and somehow managed to keep on a stoic appearance as she recognized him. How she even remembered was a mystery to him, but he took it and ran with it in silence. Speaking to her wasn't necessarily allowed, and although he really wanted to talk to her, maybe even compliment her casual outfit, he refrained. He'd likely say something stupid or offensive knowing his luck. Nevertheless, the urge to talk to her, to finally communicate with more than two words, was overwhelming. He opened his mouth, looked like a gaping fish, but then the earpiece buzzed. It wasn't quite what he wanted his first few words, after so long, to be to her..."You should return to your seat and secure your seat belt, Princess Eleanor. We are minutes from landing."

He watched in silent frustration as she wobbled back to her seat. She was so close, he had a chance to finally talk to her, and yet he chickened out. How lame. He'd gone through all that training, learning how to defend and fight, and he still hadn't gotten over talking to a girl? Then again not every girl walking the street was a princess and they weren't Eleanor.

When the plane landed, the turbulence aggressive as they swept across the bumpy strip, he patted the gun holster attached to his hip. It didn't give him comfort, only having a gun against the Borealis, but it was better than nothing. Maybe if he felt more prepared, had more sleep... It was concerning that he'd been assigned so quickly. He'd just graduated from the academy, and instead of going to see his mother at the castle, he was ushered into a briefing and then promptly sent to secure the plane for transportation. The whole ordeal had meant little sleep and constant worry. He'd been told to do whatever means necessary to protect the princess. No problem, but the thought of her going headfirst into danger? He wasn't a fan.

He stood once the plane had settled, coming to an almost agonizingly slow stop. In quick succession, he adjusted his suit jacket to obscure the weapon, and turned to assess the princess and her maid. Would it be too cliche to assure the princess that he'd protect her with his life? Probably.


He wished that looks could kill. The plane would be dead in the water by now, leaving the princess and her merry band of traveling companions to drown. That would be a marvelous sight to see. Hell, maybe he'd get over his vendetta, but of course that didn't happen. The plane landed with relative ease and was by the gates faster than he'd wanted it to be. He watched in silence alongside his father, the country's political officers, his adviser, mother, and younger sister who had likely fallen asleep in one of the chairs. Thankfully Evonne hadn't come, she hadn't even spoken to him after the proclamation of a treaty bound by marriage. A glance to his father made the scowl on his face only intensify. The king was smiling. He hadn't seen his father smile in years, and for him to smile at something like this? Josiah looked away and watched as the plane's hatch opened upward.

"Son, do be on your best behavior for the cameras." His father warned quietly underneath his breath, deriving a roll of the shoulders from Josiah, "Smiling wouldn't kill you. Remember what I said, don't wear your emotions on your sleeve. We need to be on high alert." Josiah nodded curtly. Dear Lord, how many times did he have to be reminded of that? Yes, he was acutely aware just what kind of situation they were in. The Borealis hadn't seen a live human in years and the majority of the country was against or hesitant of the idea of a treaty. An attack from their own citizens wouldn't be a surprise. It's not like Kesler and his mother had mentioned the plan to him time and time again in just a few short hours already. It's not like he hadn't noticed the guards posted not twenty feet from each other.

His mother's hand touched his shoulder and he nearly jumped. He'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed her leaving the safety of the plane. With a softly guiding hand, his mother nudged him, and he reluctantly turned on a glistening, black heel toward the gates. The royal entourage followed suit, falling in a few steps behind him.

The princess of Corwin walked with the gait of a deer as she made her way through the gateway's mouth. Unlike the photos of the other Southern royals, her skin held a tint of sun that would surely be lost underneath the clouds of the North. He would've admired her height as it was close to his own, him being rather short for his kind, but when the stench of humans reached his nostrils, the disgust and anger returned tenfold. Yet a soft grunt from his mother encouraged a forced smile to split across his face. Right, he had to treat her relatively well, at least in this moment. Had to prove the affiliation between them, to prove to his father that he could act like a prince - when he needed to.

The smile remained as he trudged up to the princess. In addition to his smile he even forced his irritated aura down a notch, remembering last minute that humans tended to become sensitive to some opposing auras. He met her gaze, and was sure that the control on his aura had slipped then. Yet his smile, it still settled on his face as clear as day. That and whatever it took to get the whole meeting and exchanging over with, the better. With an offered hand, he greeted with as much excitement as he could, "princess of Corwin, Eleanor," his eyes dived into the deep blues of her gaze, "I am the crown prince of Borealis, Josiah., and might I say that it's a pleasure to finally meet you." His smile likely faltered at that lie, but he kept going as he took note to her two companions and the Borealis party at his back.

As if sensing his acknowledgement, his father sided him and offered an easy and painfully comforting smile. "Ah, princess, thank you for coming. I am Damase," he nodded, "and thank you for accompanying the princess," he gestured to what Josiah guessed was her body guard and maid or friend. "Apologies for the rather weak welcome. As I am sure you are aware, not everyone fancies this agreement."

"But," he flinched when his mother came to interject his father from behind him, "don't let my husband startle you, I assure you that there's nothing to worry about." She easily matched his father's smile, but when she seemed to take into consideration the princess' and her companions' attire, the positive smile grew into one of concern. "Apologies, dear, we tried to make it as warm as possible in here, but it seems we didn't do quite a good job at that. We've adapted to the cold here and for that reason, we don't have any additional source of warmth to spare. At least, for the moment." It took all Josiah had not to roll his eyes and to keep the smile plastered on his face. Showing concern... for a human...

"Although I'd more than love for us to become more acquainted, and for you to rest from such a long travel, I think it best if we relocated." He offered, suddenly. It wasn't like they were waiting for something. On the contrary, once the princess arrived he'd been told they would leave for the manor as soon as possible for security. Then again that would mean he would be stuck with her and that thought alone made him cringe.

"When they're rested and fed." His mother replied, earning an eye roll that shattered his pretense, if any had been up and believable in the first place. "Now, please come along, we've food prepared in the cafeteria." Without another word or the pause for reply, the queen of Borealis led the way to the spacious room that was down a long stretch of hallway. His father turned to follow, but paused when one of the guards against the wall had gestured for his attention.

"Your excellency, your presence is needed in the throne room once more." The guard, clad in white camouflage from head-to-toe bowed and spoke quickly, as if he struggled for breath. Truthfully it was nerves.

King Damase sighed before looking to his son and future in-law, "Apologies, it seems I'm needed elsewhere. Your bodyguard is more than welcome to do reconnaissance of the premises if he so wishes as I can understand the unease you all must feel. Please rest assured that we have guards posted across the airport for your safety. Now, if you'll excuse me." At his parting words he quickly turned and followed the guard down the opposite hall. The kings military advisers followed after him in quick succession, as if fearing to be left with the humans.

Of course it's just those three and I. He would have groaned if he wasn't near the princess and her companions. "Well, I hope that you fancy..." he paused, trying to remember what crazy menu his mother had insisted upon, "pork and fruit salad." Josiah grunted, gradually giving up on the pretending. What was the point anyways?

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Mervia, Borealis​

To say Eleanor was anxious was an understatement. The dread she had felt earlier was turning to fear and something the opposite of hatred. As princess, she should have loathed the group of inhumans that stood a good distance from her, but curiosity was always her greatest enemy and it'd seemed to take control at that moment. How much taller are they? she'd asked herself as she noticed them walking closer, the woman also beginning the brisk stroll towards a central meeting point. Much, much taller, she had then answered when everyone was face-to-face.

For a few seconds words weren't shared from her side, mostly because she was intrigued by their grand height. Prince Josiah was not much taller than she and it was evident that he was on the shorter side of his kind. A build for an athlete implied that things probably didn't get passed him easily if not with a fight. One characteristic that caught her by surprised the most were his crimson-colored eyes. If it weren't for their situation as fated enemies, she might have even complimented on their beauty.

Her staring had gotten so deep that she had failed to notice that no one was talking until the prince, appearing to be shorter than a majority of his kind she noted, finally spoke. The sentence was faint in her ears because all she could feel was a sudden wave of hatred and disgust before it dissipated into nothingness. Texts from books were not enough to prepare Eleanor of actually experiencing the hug of an aura around her. It was an indescribable sensation that could have ruined her in that very moment. Bitter, cold, and maybe even beastly. Prince Josiah was frightening and she wondered if he could sense that insecurity. Her eyes had even dared to wander from his and towards his mouth, home of teeth similar to a shark. So that's how they eat... gulped the woman mentally.

Even though Eleanor wanted to look down at the floor and hope her eyes fell out from the sight, she held her head high and gave the best smile she could. Smiling was something she was good at regardless if it was fake or not and although it may not have been as charming as Josiah's, she made it work. Her soft and dainty hands had been had been fiddling with themselves as Josiah reached out to offer his own. Hesitant at first, she allowed him to take a hand in his and she resumed to answer, "Prince Josiah. A pleasure it is indeed. I hope we get along well." The urge to bite her tongue at that sentence was strong.

The king had stepped up as soon as the two finished their introductions and Eleanor continued to smile, although she somehow felt more comfortable around the older male. The smile on her face fell a bit a the mention of many not agreeing with the arrangement her sadness returning for the briefest second before collecting herself once again. "Thank you for the reassurance and while I understand this arrangement isn't in everyone's best tastes," her gaze flickered to the tall prince, "I hope that this will truly bring peace between our two countries." Her words were sincere and she'd hoped the royal family got that. Violence was something Eleanor had despised since her youth and by no means would she want this opportunity ruined by her selfishness.

"Please don't apologize Your Majesty," Eleanor chuckled lightly as she addressed the queen, "I've always been quick to adjust with my surroundings so don't mind my well being too much." That part was only half true and Margaret seemed to know that. It was true that Eleanor could easily mold with changes but the weather was something that probably never would. Still, she was a child like most Corwin youth when it came to snow. Rarely could she control herself at the sight of it.

Unfortunately, it seemed the king had important matters to attend to but the queen didn't fail to miss a beat. They had surprisingly prepared a meal for Eleanor and her group. A grin played on her plump lips when Josiah seemed to struggle with recalling the meal planned, but it immediately fell when "pork" was mentioned. Margaret shot a worried look towards the princess and Devon seemed to wonder what the exchange was about. Instead of saying anything, however, the woman merely shook her head as if telling them not to do anything. Pork may make the woman sick to her stomach, but it would have been rude to decline. It usually took a couple hours before the symptoms appeared anyways.

"Thank you for the wonderful meal."

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:15px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

​

"Well, I hope that you fancy..." Josiah paused, trying to remember what crazy menu his mother had insisted upon, "pork and fruit salad." Josiah grunted, gradually giving up on the pretending. What was the point anyways?

His gaze wandered over her briefly, catching the expressions that washed over her face at the mention of food. He'd noticed her staring at his mouth before, most likely admiring his teeth. Was she remembering how his kind ate or was she simply finicky to meat? The latter baffled him, in all honesty, but then again it was a necessity to Borealis. Vegetarianism and veganism was not practiced in the Northern country. He would have asked, would have, but he didn't care and a part of him doubted he'd hear the truth from her lips. As he'd spoken with her and held her hand for a moment, he'd felt her heart beat. It was surely erratic, and had surely skipped at beat when he'd gotten lazy on his aura. She was likely scared shitless, but was either too proud or too scared to show it. He wasn't quite sure, but whatever the reason, it unnerved him. Maybe it was the way she held herself, her chin high and prideful and her smile much more dazzling than any he had ever come across, that irritated him.

With a shake of his head he turned, "thank your future mother-in-law for the meal," he spoke as he led the way down the hall. He paused in mid-stride, looking over into the sea of chairs that engulfed the lobby. It was easy to spot his sleeping sister amidst the rows, but Kesler made it far easier as he had taken a seat beside her sleeping form. "Kesler, if you would, take Antoinette to the car and wait there. I'm sure the battalion father stationed in here will suffice for protection." The adviser nodded solemnly before looking to the small Borealis beside him. It would be a challenge to pick her up without sleeping, Ani wasn't a pleasant person to be around when she'd awoken, but he'd tapped her shoulder nonetheless. Of course, the gesture only earned him a loud and obnoxious snore. "Good luck with that."

The cafeteria was spacious. Every table that once took refuge in the center of the room was shoved to the far corners, relinquishing a grand room with a high ceiling and wide double doors, wood flooring, and a cluster of spherical, glass lights that hung from the ceiling. In contrast to the space, on either side of the room was an assortment of restaurants crammed together, their signs faded with time and store fronts covered in a thick layer of dust. It looked as if the cafeteria hadn't been used in years, that is, until today. A long table clad in a red cloth had been moved to the center of the room, its tabletop decorated with native flowers and food alike. There had been originally a number of chairs at the table, one for each member of the two parties, last Josiah had checked, but his mother had already moved the unnecessary seats out of the way. She'd likely done it in hopes of offering a more personable and intimate environment. An environment where he would likely be forced to sit beside her and be sociable.

His mother had taken the seat at the head of the table, which only left the chairs in the middle. He would've gladly taken the chair at the far-end of the table, but she'd been quick to move that too. With a click of teeth he sat down, the wooden chair with its intricate swirled carvings creaked underneath the sudden weight. The food before him drew a look of distaste. A silver platter of roasted pork, a large bowl fruit salad, and a basket of various rolls met him along with the odor of something foul. He leaned back in his seat, and felt the side of his lip curl. His mother must've noticed as she lightly cleared her throat as if to scold him. There was no way he could hide his disgust for dead meat. He wasn't as practiced in hiding his emotions, especially his anger, like his mother was. How she could withstand the smell was beyond him. At least it didn't quite taste how it smelled, but the scent was enough to deter him to try and imitate eating like a human. After all, he'd already eaten so why consume trash on top of his breakfast?

"As a precaution, we've requested that all of our staff remain in the castle so please, help yourself." His mother gestured to the table, smile ever present. Josiah glanced at her with an arched brow. Like their servants ever dished out their meals. True, they did have staff on cooking, but the tasks typical to a cooking staff were rarely acted out. On occasion, his family and he would eat something not quite alive, but even then, the staff rarely got involved. Maybe if they tried to eat together, the way humans tended to do, then it would be different.

His mother grabbed a chunk of pork for her plate before eyeing him. A mere shake of his head had her rolling her eyes yet she didn't push it, thankfully. "Eleanor, dear, there's no rush, but I would like to tell you of our plans. For the moment, we've made living arrangements for you and my son at the Tacet manor. Damase and I would appreciate it if you both," she glimpsed at Josiah, "remained there until the ceremony, a month from now. By then, the citizens of both countries should come to even ground on this matter and see how positive it can be toward ending this childish war."

Childish? Josiah looked at his mother then. He didn't try to hide the anger that melted over his stoic expression, and he definitely didn't try to hide his aura that ripped forth like a tidal wave. "Josiah." His mother spoke calmly despite the emphasis on his name, but her warning was understood. Right, humans couldn't handle auras. With an audible grunt of agreement, he urged his aura to calm once more, but he didn't lessen the heat in his glare.

"Sorry about that dear, we tend to forget that our auras can have a negative impact on you." His mother smiled warmly, and it pissed him off all the more. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. After lunch, you both will be promptly escorted to the manor. However, I must warn you that there are cameramen in the parking lot. Do be on your best behaviors, the recorded footage and pictures will be shared to Corwin as well."


Devon nearly had a heartattack, nearly, when he'd felt the sudden pressure of an aura. It felt like he was drowning at the bottom of the ocean. Thankfully it didn't last, but when it had disappeared just as abruptly as it had appeared, he realized that his service to the crown would likely end in a second. A gun would definitely not be helpful if they had an ability like that. Sure, he'd read about it years ago in school, but he hadn't actually believed how quick it could materialize. The very thought of uselessness drove his hand to linger at the holstered weapon at his side. It was a form of comfort as well as security, no matter how weak it now was.

At the mention of reconnaissance, he frowned. It sounded like a good opportunity, made sense, but there was no way in hell that he'd leave the princess' side. Especially after the aura. He wouldn't have been able to focus if he had chosen to survey the facility. No, not with the idea of the princess being in danger at his absence.

Albeit, he'd reconsidered when the queen had talked of food. Food was the last of his concerns, and by the look of worry on Eleanor's face when the prince had mentioned meat, he set his mind on remaining at her side.

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Mervia, Borealis​

"Thank you for the wonderful meal," she'd said before Josiah added a correction. It seemed to be without any ill intentions, so Eleanor swiftly corrected herself and apologized for misaddressing as they continued down the hall. The prince suddenly stopped and gazed towards a certain direction, which caused the woman to stumble over her own feet in order to not bump into him. She quietly hoped no one noticed the clumsy action and almost sighed when she realized everyone's attention was on another man.

If Josiah had not said the words and the man he addressed was not there, Eleanor would have never guessed someone was snoozing on the seats--Princess Antoinette at that. The curve of her lips was hard to hide at the sight because out of the two things she adored, children was one of them. Even though the younger girl was of the opposite species, it didn't matter in her eyes because a child was a child. Young boys and girls were the only true, pure beings in the world. Other than animals that is.

With a nearly inaudible giggle, she followed the Tacets into the cafeteria. It would have been completely barren if not for the tables that had been pushed aside. Dust covered restaurants surrounding the spacious area were worn with time and she'd wondered when the last time they were used was. "It would be nice to be able to use these again..." Eleanor ended up saying aloud with a gasp after realizing what had just happened. "Ah.. I'm sorry. I tend to voice my thoughts far too often," she blushed as she covered her mouth with a hand, a habit developed upon learning that she tended to bite her lower lip when embarrassed.

Margaret chuckled beside her, instantly setting the woman at ease. Even if Queen Rosia and Prince Josiah were to view her as odd, at least her friend found the accidental words amusing.

From the setting of the table in the center of the space--red cover and a small amount of chairs, Eleanor assumed that it was an attempt to get her and the Borealis. A ball of discomfort formed in the back of her throat but under normal circumstances, as in if Josiah were human, the seating arrangement made sense. Still, i was unnerving for her with the man sitting so close. However, she tried to ignore the feeling and pay attention to what was on the table. The flowers appeared to be native to the North, a faint but lovely scent emitting from them, and well... the food, of course.

The rolls and fruit salad were appetizing, but the pork was already affecting her stomach. Eleanor at that moment, for the first time in a long time, hated the food intolerance she hated towards pork and red meat. She knew one day it would hurt her, but she'd never had that it would be because she was having lunch with the queen and crown prince of Borealis. Her distaste for the meat was short-lived when the Queen Rosia mentioned living arrangements. They were expected but nonetheless disappointing. Living alone, although not truly alone, with the man sitting next to her for a month sounded all too lovely. "I understand, Your Majesty," Eleanor began with a sincere voice, "There's nothing more I want than everyone to fi-"

It hit her painfully hard. The sudden shift in the air caused her to grip the handle of her silverware until her face turned pale. A weight equivalent to an ocean fell on top of her and for a brief second she found it hard to breathe. She knew what had happened as soon as it'd occurred from the books about the Borealis race. What she didn't know, however, was what experiencing it truly felt like. How had the humans survived this long if a mere aura could turn someone to stone? Eleanor's crystal blue filled with fear when they flickered towards the prince but instantly calmed upon hearing the queen's voice.

"Oh, it's quite alright, Your Majesty!" Eleanor reassured as she forced a girlish giggle out. "It was honestly an exhilarating experience."Another lie. Regarding the cameramen, it irked her a bit. The media was never her friend, especially after outing a businessman for embezzling. Journalists, who'd agreed to keep a distance when she was doing her charity work, soon bombarded the woman every where she went in public. She even had to stop volunteering for a short amount of time and that memory always made her feel bitter. "Well, cameramen are cameramen. I suppose I can't make an improper jokes," she said lightheartedly, although immediately regretting her words soon after."

"Is there a ladies' room nearby? I'd like to make myself at least a bit presentable." Eleanor asked and explained before excusing herself and Margaret. She informed Devon that his presence was not necessary since the restroom was close and there were already guards around the area. The two soon journeyed out the cafeteria and turned a corner, finding a freshly cleaned restroom to use. One inside, however, prepping herself was the least of her worries. In fact, she was starting to feel a bit nauseous from the pork.

"Are you okay, Nora?" Margaret asked with concern, placing a hand to the woman's back for support. Eleanor merely nodded with a smile, but her own hand against her stomach said otherwise.

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:15px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

​

Curiosity had driven him to test the air, and he'd instantly regretted it. He could smell her, and he found that rather troubling. The stench of human was foreign to him. If he had to describe it, he would've used flowery adjectives but they wouldn't be used in a positive manner. The scent was too strong, as if she had bathed in a tub of perfume every day, and it lingered like the smell of the dead meat on the table. It was already incredibly uncomfortable having her so close to him, and if they'd been alone he would've sat as far away from her as possible. He would have if his mother weren't seated alongside them. Instead, he had leaned away from her proximity as far as he could without appearing too rude. He'd used the table as cover, propping en elbow on the edge and leaning slightly to the side as he brushed at his nose as if scratching an itch. His try at subtlety wasn't out of respect to her, but more or less to dodge another scolding from his mother. He didn't try at breathing again after that less he catch the same stench.

When she'd giggled lamely at the effects his aura likely had on her, he scoffed. He'd hit the nail on the head when it came to her being too prideful or too scared to be truthful. Then again, sarcasm wasn't always his forte when idiotic giggling was involved.

Throughout their meal, he'd quietly watched her from the corner of his eye as she and his mother chattered away. He'd eaten most of what he'd piled onto his plate, each bite tasting more and more like cardboard. Unlike him, the princess had barely grazed the portion of meat she'd chosen. She'd taken maybe six bites before she'd shown far more interest in the fruit salad and rolls. He'd found that weird. Did she not normally eat meat? If so then how was she still standing? Just in case, he tasted the meat himself. Maybe it was as rotten tasting to her as it smelled to him?

"- make myself at least a bit presentable." Josiah looked up from his plate at that, confused. She looked relatively fine... what more could she do to look presentable?

"Down the left of the left of the hall, around the corner." His mother had replied. The princess didn't waste time as she quickly departed from the cafeteria. Her entourage had quickly followed, the woman and the bodyguard disappearing through the wide double doors in pursuit. Once they'd left, he took the opportunity to set down his silverware and scoot his chair slightly back from the table. "I quite like her," the look of disgust that washed over his face wasn't missed by the queen, "oh, come now. She's trying which is more than I can say for you." She derived a shrug from him and nothing more.

They'd sat in silence after, neither one touching the dead meat on their plate. Roughly half and hour had passed without any sign of the princess' return. Paranoia nestled in his gut as Josiah wondered if she'd left to conspire. After all, she was human, it wouldn't surprise him. In fact, he hoped that was the case. Anything to get rid of his predicament, anything to get him out of marrying a human, was something that he was all for. Even if i meant a continuation of the war or marrying Evonne. "She's taking an awfully long-"

Ksssssshhhhh

A chorus of shattered glass washed out his words and drove him to jump up from his seat. His mother had too, but before a look of concern could take refuge on her face, a soldier from the hall had rushed in with a rifle in hand. He'd bowed once, and the royal pair expected an explanation, but instead they were answered with the raising of the rifle.

So this time it was going to be the Borealis who assassinated a human from the royal family?

The gun fired, and Josiah launched himself away from the storm of bullets. He dove for the floor as the bullets brushed past him and he heard his mother do the same. Right as his knees connected with the wooden floor, his hands became engulfed in blue flame. Water would have been a better tactic, but he'd reacted too quickly. At his touch the flame spread like wildfire. It consumed the wood beneath him and surged outward like an ocean's wave. At the fire, the gun fire had instantly ceased, but Josiah didn't relinquish his control as he steadily rose from the floor. Although he would have preferred using ice against a traitor and later charge him, treason was treason, and he didn't take lightly to mutiny. With a mere gesture of a hand he had his blue flames focus on the traitor. The fire flickered up, standing tall as it barreled toward the soldier who had turned to flee, but when he realized that the soldier wasn't moving, having been frozen in place, he closed his palm and the blue flames died instantly. They vanished with a wheeze of smoke, leaving behind scorched floors and a burned table.

His mother had frozen the soldier with the aid of time, but before either of them could take a moment to catch their bearings and realize the situation at hand, a flurry of soldiers came into the cafeteria like a swarm. The traitors wasted no time and within the breath of a second, a fortissimo of bullets resounded in the room. It was more of surprise that had Josiah reacting slow, but when a bullet struck his shoulder through and through, he'd woken back up and unleashed the blue fires once more.

"Josiah, the princess!" At his mothers words, he sighed. He'd almost forgotten, but he should've expected it. Gunfire wouldn't kill them, but it did hurt like a bitch and was effective in stalling. Still, in enraged him. The flames had yet to encircle the betrayers, and his shoulder burned. Nevertheless, he obliged as his mother made way for him, using a powerful gust of wind to part the sea of soldiers. Her ability was so strong that it even brushed against him, pushed him back several feet.


Devon lingered near the bathroom, his hand drumming against the hidden weapon as his gaze wandered over the door. The princess seemed troubled when she'd told him to not follow, not that he would when it came to her privacy in bathrooms, and he'd wanted to ask of her well being but he'd frozen up again. He'd simply nodded, only following to the door despite her wishes.

He'd stayed in the hall, next to the cafeteria doors, in silence. Only when he'd felt the burn of an aura had he left his post to look inside. The presence of an aura, of this one, was not quite as bad as the first. Perhaps it was the distance, and if that was the case then he was thankful that he was far enough away. However, he felt remorse for the princess as she giggled about how "exhilarating" the experience was. Exhilarating indeed.

Pacing in the stretch of hall beside the bathroom, he'd only taken a moment to pause in his stride, more or less to gander at his wristwatch, but the piercing eruption of glass interrupted him. Without thought, relying more on reflex, he ran to the bathroom door and drew out his gun. "Your highness!" He wrapped on the door in a frenzy. The broken glass sounded like it had been from the large windows that overlooked the runway, but he needed to make sure that she was all right. But after he'd find that out... he wasn't quite sure what else to do. There was only so much the Academy could teach you and all of it was against humans, not Borealis.

He heard gunfire and it drove him to open the door, "Princess!"

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Mervia, Borealis​

"Are you okay, Nora?" Margaret had asked, to which stricken female could only nod with a smile. It was her fault she was feeling the pain she was, siding with her own pride rather than her health. That was always a problem of hers and it was possible that fault would become her demise. Sooner than later now that the woman was to reside inside within enemy lines.

Her stomach squeezed into another not and Eleanor made an awkward gruff in response. She squat on the ground with her arms wrapped around her abdomen, allowing the pressure to relieve the pain even the tiniest bit. It was futile but enough for her to keep everything down. If she could control the pain, the nausea would naturally fade away and she could return to the cafeteria.
Hopefully that would be soon because she'd already been hiding in the restroom like a shy teenaged girl for far too long.

Suddenly, a loud crash from outside echoed into the pristine restroom. The sound itself was enough to temporarily rid of Eleanor's discomfort as it was replaced with surprise. Margaret seemed to have felt the same because she looked at Eleanor with eyes that must have been like her own. "What was that?"

"I.. I don't know, Margo..." Eleanor replied, confusion and curiosity hiding under a pained tone. She got up and went the restroom door, only to be abruptly and aggressively pushed back because Devon shouted and entered at the same time. Being the clumsy being she was, she finally fell to the floor after a few awkward attempts to recapture her balance. The loud thump of her bottom against the cold tile was drowned out by the sound of bullets, however.

"What's going, Devon?" Although she asked that, the answer was obvious. A rebel faction has already formed and those bullets were probably begging to meet her head. Eleanor's hand slightly shook at the thought of death but that feeling was long lost when her eyes fell upon the sight of a man in black, pistol pointed at Devon. Eyes widening, she somehow managed to react quickly and pulled Devon down towards her before the gunshot was released. The steaming buzz went right passed her ear and her body nearly jumped at the sound of it ricocheting off something and finally stopping.

She didn't know if Devon cursed or what because his voice was nearly inaudible, but his reaction time was applaudable as he immediately got up and tackled the assailant out of the small space. Eleanor, both shocked and awed at Devon's actions, watched as she hesitantly got to her feet to exit. Margaret grabbed onto Eleanor's arm, however, because she knew of the dangers that were probably waiting around the corner. She also knew Eleanor more than she knew herself because the princess was so distressed that she failed to notice her shaking legs.

"Princess, you mustn't. It's dangerous and y-" was all Margaret could say before her words were cut off by another bullet. The assailant from earlier had manage to escape Devon's grasp and shot a hidden handgun towards Eleanor. However, instead of whizzing passed her ear, it managed to enter shoulder. All Eleanor could do was stare at the assailant before Devon was finally able to put him down. The burning sensation in her body didn't process until her companions shouted and two pairs of worried eyes were looking at her.

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:15px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

​

Josiah unleashed his anger into the hall. The feeling was exhilarating, to release the emotions he'd kept locked up within him, but it proved that fire had a mind of its own. The passion made quick work of the hall, catching the walls and fake plants alight with the hottest of flames. In any other situation he wouldn't have cursed at himself for his carelessness, but today was nowhere close to normal. The princess he was to wed was human she needed oxygen, and his fire was sure as hell not going to help that necessary function. Nevertheless, he allowed his element to soar and envelope the rebels that began to swarm into the corridors.

His fire took time to reply and conjure which offered a noticeable delay to the bullets. A bullet struck him in the gut and although it wouldn't kill him, it still hurt like hell. It forced his jaw to lock, canines bared, and it only fed the fire. If it wasn't for his mother's worry over the human's well-being then he would have stood and burned every single traitor alive. He would have drowned in the anger, but instead he focused the negativeness on the smells. Her scent still bothered him, but it was thankfully easy to find. When he did he made an instant and abrupt beeline toward the bathrooms, having forgotten where she'd run off to prior. His sudden change of pace seemed to bother the rebels as they started to attempt at any method possible to stall him, but he merely pushed them away with the use of his aura. It was painstakingly easy to the point of it being extremely pathetic. He was by no means strong, but emotions made an aura irresistibly harsh and powerful.

A bullet to his back made him pause at the bathroom door, his body heaving forward at the impact. No doubt his blood, thick blues and purples, was staining his suit. Well, he never did like the suit anyhow... maybe it was for the better.

"Princess!" Josiah jumped at the sudden roar over the gunfire and flames, his nose quickly scrunching up at the sudden smell of blood. Human blood. It made his throat burn and he coughed viciously to silence the sudden thirst. He hadn't scented the blood of humans in a while and this... he couldn't quite explain it... it was on the verge of possibly being heavenly. Blood of a human was no doubt the true food source for his kind, and he would bet that once the smell reached the rebels, they'd go for the humans from the opposing country in a heart beat. Forget the prince and queen of the Borealis. I could just trip and lie on the floor... let it happen. It was tempting, but he knew better. As a prince, at least, he knew better. With a sigh that was more of a growl he stormed into the bathroom just in time to see the princess' attacker raise the barrel of a gun once more.

He grabbed the assailant's shoulder from behind and shoved them roughly into the stalls. The stalls cracked and crumbled under the sudden impact, and Josiah took no time to make sure that he had in fact knocked the attacker out. Without a second to lose he grabbed Elanor by her wrist and yanked her up to his chest. The contact of skin and closeness, of the smell of her, made his blood boil. Truth be told, he likely would have bitten her then and there if it wasn't for the shouts and footfalls by the door. "Hold your breath, it'll help ease the pain." Was the only warning he gave before he let loose on his aura once more. It was a terrible tactic, but he was about to try at fire with humans so close. Especially when he'd caught the outside hall and part of the lobby on fire.

It took only moments before he led, or rather dragged, himself and the princess into the blazing hall. He didn't care to make sure that her servant and bodyguard were following, but he did make doubly sure that the rebels in his way were flattened by the pressure of his aura. "If you can last, I'll be impressed." Josiah mumbled dryly as he briskly led the way down the hall and back into the lobby, fire starting to reach up to the ceiling. He met his mother there who had taken on blocking a swarm of bullets with swipe after swipe of wild wind, but it seemed to only anger the fire further. He'd made to help her, but a rebel Borealis went to strike him with the butt of a gun. Josiah quickly side-stepped, shielding Elanor before he turned and punched the opposer on the side of the masked helmet. The helmet cracked audibly, but before he could strike again his mother pulled him away and quickly ushered them to the emergency doors where a vehicle sat, engine running and back passenger door opened. Only when he'd pushed Elanor into the backseat only to follow after her, the car jolting forward as soon as the door closed, did he let off on his aura. It was much harder to silence, he almost had to pinch himself to get the wave of emotions and persona to settle to an unrecognizable hum of tension. It seemed to ease their driver, his bodyguard, some as the car sped forward, turning a sharp turn widely as the vehicle crossed into the other lane momentarily.

If it wasn't for the stench he would have forgotten about her. A part of him wanted to. Maybe she'd die of shock? A glance proved his wondrous thought wrong. No, a mere flesh wound. How unfortunate.

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Mervia, Borealis​

When the bullet first grazed her shoulder, she didn't feel it at all. Eleanor's body was filled with so much adrenaline that it was a mere pest compared to all the commotion going on. She was not as alarmed as her fellow companions, who wore expressions of shock although Devon seemed a bit more angered than Margaret. His anger was short lived due to the Crown Prince's arrival, however. The man didn't seemed too pleased with the scene but he didn't appear all too concerned either. Eleanor could guess what he was thinking and she wasn't too happy with his appearance. Nonetheless he took care of the attacker with ease, startling the woman as his body crashed loudly against a stall.

Inhuman strength wasn't what startled Eleanor the most, however. It was the prince's decision to hold her against him. She struggled against him at first, confused and a bit frightened, but her body automatically complied to his words. Crystal, doe eyes looked up at him before flickering to Margaret and Devon. They were already holding her breaths and as soon as Eleanor did herself, the feeling hit her hard. Weight suddenly fell on her shoulders and her body shook with desperation. Eleanor could practically visualize Josiah's aura radiating off him, impacting the assailant as harshly it did to the three lone humans. Her hands gripped the prince's shirt as she tried her best to remain standing but she could feel her legs tremble as if they were breaking.

Josiah then lead the woman out and she was suddenly faced with one of her biggest fears. Fire.

Eleanor's body immediately went limp and the prince had to practically drag the woman forwards. Her hands shook vigorously as her grip on the man tightened, eyes widened in shock but so engrossed by the flames that they couldn't shut. Scene by scene flickered before her eyes as she recalled a memory she tried so hard to forget and ignore. Josiah had said something but it remained in the back of her mind as she tried to keep from crying out or even fainting. The scar of her burn mark also began to burn as if she was catching fire once more. The only thing Eleanor could process was Margaret screaming faintly from behind, "Fire! Eleanor can't be near fire!"

Her head tried to turn in an attempt to search wildly for her friend when another attacker jumped in to strike. The prince had surprisingly used his body to shield her before he struck the helmet of the aggressor. Josiah was about to continue but they bother were ushered by the Queen towards a vehicle that was parked outside. After being shoved into it, she sat the furthest away from the prince as possible, holding her left side as it burned passionately. Her should was in pain as well, but it was nothing compared to the trauma her body remembered. Thankfully, it was put more at ease when Prince Josiah put out his aura but that only seemed to stress her mentally.

As her body still shook, she asked confidently all though her voice shook slightly, "Have Devon and Margaret made it safely? Who were those people? I'm assuming they're against this mar- me." Eleanor continued to chatter away as she always did, unaware of what the prince was feeling towards her babbling. Eventually she stopped mid-sentence when she noticed the many bullet wounds he had. Already knowing the answer but out of respect and curiosity she asked, "Are you okay, Your Highness? Does that hurt?"

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:15px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

​

Josiah folded his arms as leaned against the car door, as far away from her as possible. His gaze had finally settled onto her as she babbled away, unease clear in her voice. He faintly remembered hearing one of her human servants exclaiming how she couldn't be "near fire." He grinned at that, at the irony of it all. However, his grin didn't last. Perhaps it was her incessant desire to fill the silence of the vehicle that threatened to cave in between them or the fact that she may still be in shock, but it was most likely because she questioned him of his well being.

He finally looked at her fully with a raised brow. Does that hurt? In all honesty, it had taken him a moment to realize what she was referring to. The question was incredibly odd to him, surely she knew that bullets wouldn't kill his kind? Then again, she wasn't asking if he was dying - she'd probably be glad if he was. Nevertheless, he found the question so incredibly odd that he found himself answering honestly, "Well of course it does. Hurts like hell, but it will heal within the hour." Josiah shrugged it off as he slipped his gaze to the window, catching the winter scenery flying by as he realized that his response didn't really speak the truth. It hurt like a bitch.

If it were not for her flesh wound and erratic heartbeat, he would have left it at that. Yes, she'd asked about her companions, but he had no intention of caring or comforting. However, the blood was evident and blood of a human in his land would not fare well after a while. "Come here," he spoke more harshly than he'd intended as he finally turned around in his seat, beckoning with a wave of his hand. "It may be half an hour or so and quite frankly, I cannot stand the stench of blood for the moment." He said no more on that, choosing to leave it in the air for her to interpret how she wished. "And so you'll calm down, your travelling companions were left with my mother. The resistance will stand no chance against her so, I assure you, they are in good hands. You may rejoin them at a later time, I imagine. And what you just witnessed was a faction of Borealis resistance. What, did you think that my kind would be up for something like this? " He gestured between them and chuckled, "Of course they're against this idea," and I don't blame them, "but there's no need to worry. Unlike the last meeting between Human and Borealis, I can assure you that my family won't let anything to happen to you." Although I wouldn't mind. You're annoying.

"In addition, that resistance will be eradicated soon. Even if they deem it noble, clearly it's high treason." He glanced up at the ceiling of the car, wondering what compelled him to talk so much. "Now let me assess the wound. And before you even dare ask, I won't bite you." His attempt at a joke or weak assurance earned a grunt amusement from their driver, Kesler.

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Mervia, Borealis​

There was a brief pause after her question, silence crashing into the vehicle like a high tide. Josiah had finally turned to look at her, his expression indescribable but all the more unnerving. When he raised his eyebrow, all she could do was return the notion but in a satirizing manner. Her worry was immediately cut short after the man finally replied with "Well of course it does. Hurts like hell, but it will heal within the hour." She'd only asked him a question and he answered her as if she was ignorant to their kind. Eleanor wasn't blind to the fact that the Borealis, like all living creatures, were susceptible to pain. She only asked out of pure decency and etiquette, which she wasn't so sure the guy sitting before her would have had if he weren't born a royal.

"I see..." mumbled Eleanor as she found her eyes on the passing scenery. The snow was a contrast to what had happened moments ago. It was a soft blanket that made everything it touched beautiful, but it was also a wave of death that seemed to only bring sadness to life. Snow was fitting for this part of the world. If the first couple hours of being in their country were enough to bring upon an attack, she wandered how much crueler these people would become later.

Eleanor jumped when the prince suddenly spoke up, the reaction most likely caused from the adrenaline that stilled coursed through her veins. She turned towards him with confusion written all over her face. It wasn't until his hand ushered her over that she look hesitantly at him and then towards the other body in the car as if she needed permission. Nevertheless, she scooted over awkwardly, leaving a few extra inches between them than she needed to. Although Eleanor was no coward, an ambush including fire was not a good way to start her first day in enemy territory so of course she was a little on edge.

He must have sensed her never ending uneasiness because he then brought up her two companions. Eleanor's shoulders slumped in response and she let out a very unlady-like sigh. However, reassurance and relief was replaced by mild vexation when Josiah answered her question about the faction. It was a quite rude way to respond in her opinion, and although Eleanor was clearly the inferior species, she's have none of that. "It isn't a matter of 'what I think.' I presumed your people would have more respect for the decisions of their reigning family. Personally, I would have at least waited a week."

Her full lips formed a subtle pout and she looked at Josiah with eyes of conviction. When she realized what she did, however, her posture fell slightly and the woman let out a short cough. "Please excuse me for that, Your Highness." Eleanor's gaze wavered between the window and the prince for a few seconds, finally caving to let the man look at her wound and ignoring his biting comment.

 

[WolfSol]

[FONT=Megrim; size:15px;]Mervia, Borealis[/FONT]

J ∙ O ∙ S ∙ I ∙ A ∙ H

' O, that this too, too s u l l i e d flesh would m e l t ,
T h a w and resolve itself into a d e w ,

​

"Hmmm," he hummed in response as he drew a hand to her shoulder, tracing the ruined fabric for a brief moment, "one would think that, wouldn't they? Even if a royal family is favored, it doesn't mean that a country will suffer from disagreements. In addition, change isn't favored. Don't go pretending that your people wouldn't attempt something similar if the roles were reversed." Josiah's hand lingered on her shoulder as he continued, applying just enough pressure on it to gauge a reaction. He doubted it had embedded, but he wasn't about to ask her to pull down her blouse right away without verifying if it was in a bad spot. He was fairly certain the bullet went straight through, but precautions.

"It's only history repeating itself." It was a low blow, but a weak one as she probably had not been around during the first attack that occurred between human and Borealis. "Your apology is unnecessary as you're not the only one, but what's done is done. It seems the negotiations were being discussed for the course of several months, albeit in secret..." he averted his gaze, evident anger clouding his stoic face. A week? Hell, he preferred a year, a lifetime, before his and her country had reached a conclusion like this. He had to admit though, he was glad that he wasn't the only one who had a similar thought. Everyone else in the royal family and castle grounds seemed to have fallen head over heels for the very idea of a peace treaty.

He'd only returned his gaze after realizing that he'd been applying constant pressure to her shoulder. "Does it hurt, Your Highness?" He tested her title against her loosely, attempting to match her level of respect, but with his tone it probably came across as belittling. Josiah tsked at that, shook his head, "Enough with these godawful formalities. You sound like a dying deer when you utter those royal titles. I appreciate your attempts at respect and such, but by all means, have the pleasure of calling me by my given name or by my royal standing, Prince. Keep the talk of Highness for my father and mother." In all honesty he would have preferred anything other than the royal pronouns that she used. Asshole would sound a lot better coming from her rather than "Your Highness." It proved difficult to get a solid reading from her, something he'd quickly found, whenever she used them. Was she pissed, confused, sad, scared shitless, or content?

She definitely holds herself better than I. He ignored that fact and eyed her as he brushed his sleeve against the wound, wiping the spots of blood off the skin that peeked out from the fabric as best he could. Yet the gesture did little to help make it easier to actually see the wound.

Tugging at the collar of her blouse, he said, "I cannot asses your wound like this. Remove your arm from this sleeve, if you would. I would like to imagine that the bullet went straight through, but it's difficult to see with the blood and fabric. It looks like it barely grazed you, but I would like to be sure." It wasn't necessarily worry for her, but more or less worry for his father's anger. Even if it wasn't his fault, his father would be rather irritated to find that their royal ally had been harmed. That and if they were to be confronted by cameramen at the manor, although no one knew of such a plan yet, then they'd likely lose the favor of the humans, seeing that their princess had already encountered conflict on enemy land.

 

[Nap]

E L E A N O R​

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Mervia, Borealis​

Eleanor's body shook slightly when she felt the faint feeling of fingers tracing the fabric of her top. It was an odd feeling like when she had her wisdom teeth removed and they were poking and prodding at her numb mouth. Was it worrisome that her shoulder felt that way? Perhaps she lost more blood than she'd thought, especially after the numbing sensation really settled in upon entering the vehicle. She didn't like the thought but she didn't like that Josiah spoke poorly of her people's actions neither. However, it wasn't as if he was wrong and she didn't just do the same. His low comment wasn't of any help either. Of course, Eleanor understood what he meant by "It's only history repeating itself." Ever since she was young she loved to read. After her mother's passing, anything related to the Borealis was a must read, even if it brought a scolding or worse.

A nod of the head was all the woman could manage, not because she didn't want to add on to the conversation but because she acknowledge that her outburst was a bit ignorant of her. Enemies are enemies so a sudden turn of events where they must marry is surely baffling, especially with two different races. Well...at least death here would be explainable and not an excuse. She chuckled to herself, her lips curling into an almost bitter, miserable smile before her attention turned towards the prince.

"Did you just mock me?" asked Eleanor in surprise, unsure if Josiah's question was ill baring or not. Her eyebrow rose in response as she waited for a response and it was finally answered when the man seemed to lose his composure. Who would have known that such a moody guy disliked formalities as much as she. Her laugh was warm when she spoke, "Well, it is a bit soon in my opinion, but if we're forced to live with each other for however long, I suppose that's alright. That is, if you're truly appeased, Josiah." She tested his name without a title, curious as to how he'd respond. It wasn't as if she actually cared whether or not he disliked her calling his name or not. Eleanor was just renown for testing the waters with anyone and everyone she met. Because of this, it never took long for her to adapt and become comfortable, even someone like Prince Josiah, around someone. Maybe that's why her father chose her for a political marriage.

The worry of numbness from before passed as Josiah continued to tamper with her wound. She hissed slightly as his fingers got a little too close to the entry, biting her tongue to keep small tears from falling. Eleanor knew he meant no harm and that he only wanted to help her. However, he blouse she wore was clearly a nuisance to the cause and she was about to offer to remove it before the almighty prince did so himself.

She loosened a couple of the upper buttons before letting the left side fall slowly. Suddenly, she paused and caught the rest of it from falling, remembering that her burn mark was merely millimeters from the gun wound. Will he notice it? Eleanor thought, glancing sideways for a brief second. Sighing and realizing that her shame didn't matter towards someone who had no desire to actually be with her, she pulled her white blouse down further. Her face morphed into one of discomfort as she did so because bits of the blood had tried and clung earnestly to the fabric. It wasn't until her shoulder was revealed that she noticed how much blood had stained the silk shirt. Even her undergarments were soaked red.