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Post by NightshadeVII on Aug 10, 2023 15:30:00 GMT -6
He had had always known this day would come, but now, as it finally arrived, he realized it had come painfully early.
Aberdeen sighed, the weight of the life he led pressing down on his shoulders. How fragile it all was. How maddening. Breathing in deep, he brought up his violin, letting the bow glide over the string. Normally he played beautiful songs, songs that snared minds and hearts, songs that made mountains weep and rivers rise. Not today. The strings were tortured, a lament filling the clearing, heavy and ghastly, unearthly. Beautiful, unending regret. Slowly, plans began to form.
Wathais had changed lately, of course most wouldn’t notice. The morning mist hung lower, heavier- some days it barely disappeared. The mist carried song and sorrow with it, a symphony he had known all too well. It called out to him, tugged at old scars, trying to drag him down, drag him home, demanding that he returned what he stole. Betrayer, it cried. He ignored the call. Perhaps it was foolish of him, naive even, but how could he give up now, after everything he had done?
And then, he had seen Eike. The man that had been his mentor lifetimes ago. It felt like a knife was twisted in his gut. It took every once of self control to keep his composure. Up until this moment, Aberdeen could have lied to himself, told himself that he was just imagining things, that he was being paranoid. No longer. If Eike was here, they were all here. Just the tought was overwhelming, terrifying. Their eyes had met in the middle of the bustling city and the blonde had smiled. That was when Aberdeen knew his time was up.
Since then, he had never been alone. He surrounded himself with people, at work, during his spare time, never venturing far beyond the city without company. All under guise of socialization, of catching up with old friends. It was without hesitation that he put innocent humans between himself and an ancient grudge. He was doing little more than delaying the inevitable, pretending he could outrun the consequences of his actions, of that he was painfully aware.
He needed more time.
Eventually he had decided that he could only run so far before running himself into a corner. He had to be careful, plan ahead. Which was why today he found himself at his lake, alone. Mist shrouded the forest, surrounded his little haven but never encroached on it. A small mercy. At least they hadn’t found this place yet, but that was only a matter of time. He had one advantage, if nothing else, he knew who was coming for him, better than he knew anyone else; he knew what they wanted, knew their methods, and most importantly, he knew how to fight it as best as he was able. He kept a small stash of his belongings by his lake, an old necklace, a ring, a simple blade, scraps of wood that was found nowhere in this forest- all where now safely tucked under clothes and into pockets, hidden.
Around him, the mist slowly began to encroach on his sanctuary.
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Post by qhostqrowls on Aug 10, 2023 19:19:40 GMT -6
It was not a member of his court that emerged from the mist, but a woman. Familiar brown eyes beheld the lake and its lone inhabitant, long lashes brushing against freckled skin when she blinked.
She brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, meandering closer until water lapped at the toes of her boots. Her dress swayed in the breeze, and she tilted her head as she listened the mournful wail of the violin.
“Aberdeen.” She called out, her lips curling into an affectionate smile. She was the spitting image of Dagmar, down to her dimples. The only give-away was the flat, animal glint in her eyes - and the fact that Aberdeens first love had been dead for several centuries.
“You’re been avoiding us.” She said sweetly, blinking up at the nokk.
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Post by NightshadeVII on Aug 11, 2023 0:36:10 GMT -6
A few more tormented notes were drawn from the violin as Aberdeen seemed to ignore his visitor. He stood barely knee deep in the lake water, with his back turned. Then the song stopped, suddenly and without ceremony, leaving the clearly terribly empty in its absence, aching like a bleeding wound. His grip tightened on the neck of his violin, knuckles turning white.
“Yes, I have been”, the nøkk replied smoothly, his voice filling the hole his song had left, “should I consider this an official invitation?”
When he finally turned, several emotions flashed in his eyes all at once, swirling together in a confusing mix, sadness and longing, a spec of naive hope. Before he finally settled on anger, pure and simple. How dare she smile at him like that, that kind, affectionate smile that made her cheeks dimple and her eyes shine. The smile that had bewitched him centuries ago. As if he had not been tormented enough by them, now they also dangled everything they had taken from him just beyond his grasp in an attempt to lure him back. Here was someone he didn’t know, wearing the face of the first person that had known him so intimately. Those gentle features became an instrument for cruelty, a mockery, as Aberdeen knew he could reach out and touch her face and it would feel real, but the illusion would crumble. It left a sour taste in his mouth.
“Leave me be”, Aberdeen’s voice was tight as he spoke, his words lacking some of their usual melody. He sounded almost tired. “I’m in no mood for ghosts today…”
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Post by qhostqrowls on Aug 11, 2023 1:06:06 GMT -6
“Yes, you should.” The thing replied, smiling widely. Her accent wasn’t quite right, and neither were her features, the longer Aberdeen stared. A touch too symmetrical. Teeth that were a shade too sharp. Where Dagmars eyes had affection and human emotion, the creature had nothing but animal interest. The stare of a wolf, sizing up her prey.
“You cannot hide from the court. From your fate. You know this. It is time to return to where you belong.” She replied, crossing her arms behind her back. She stepped nearer, her dress darkening as water crept up the hem. “They have sent me to fetch you. You will come with me.”
There was something almost childish about the way she spoke. Choppy sentences, and a raspy undertone that spoke of a voice seldom used. She tilted her head as she looked upon the nokk, unblinking and wide eyed.
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Post by NightshadeVII on Aug 11, 2023 4:30:56 GMT -6
There it was, the holes in the illusion, the seams that didn’t quite meet. Where was her warmth? Where was the small scar on her cheek from letting a fox out of a snare? It was like looking at a painting or a mask, beautiful, but not quite there. Disgust rose in Aberdeen’s throat like bile. He focused on that, instead of the face’s familiarity, magnifying the missing pieces until it was all he could see. It made this pseudo-reunion hurt less, somehow.
“I don’t think so”, the nøkk replied coldly, slowly dropping his human facade as well, “I’ve been doing quite well for myself lately, I’m really not keen on giving it up.“
Of course, he knew he wasn’t getting out of this that easy. He could not just deny an invitation like this. And even if he somehow got out of it this time, they would send someone worse. Considering he still felt the effects of their parting gift, he wasn’t keen on pushing his luck. He couldn’t truly fight and he couldn’t truly run. His hands were tied. What did he even have to work with? If he got further into the lake, he could buy himself time, hide, but it would only make the trap snap tighter when it did. It would be like backing up against a wall and praying not to be seen. That wasn’t an option. He could draw his dagger, sure, but until he knew what this one was, he ran the risk of it being entirely ineffective. And besides, that blade was reserved for someone else’s throat.
So he strode past the creature, back onto solid ground, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He moved with calm confidence, betraying none of his racing thoughts.
“Why don’t you just run along back to whoever sent you and tell them you failed, hm?” He suggested with a nonchalant wave of his hand, before looking back at her with eyes that had become solid turquoise, “spare me the trouble.”
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Post by qhostqrowls on Aug 11, 2023 20:14:51 GMT -6
“You serve humans.” The thing said dryly. “That is no life for a member of the court. It is a disgrace.”
There was something like disdain etched across her features as she turned to follow him out of the water. She stared at him impassively, unimpressed, impatient.
“I cannot return until I bring you with me.” The creature said, and there was a note of finality in the statement. “Come with me. Or I will make you.”
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Post by NightshadeVII on Aug 12, 2023 2:36:39 GMT -6
Aberdeen frowned as he watched the creature, trying to find cracks in her to exploit, in her conviction, in her persuasion, even in her physical form. There had to be something he could pry open, something he could take apart. Anything at all.
“Disgrace perhaps”, he murmured, putting his violin down. In this one thing he was gentle, treating the instrument with utmost care. For a brief moment, he wondered if he could snare her mind with his lure. He could drown minds with his music, make them forget what he wanted them to, have them do what he asked or see what they needed most. It was easy. But, he thought to himself, if the court sent her, they would undoubtedly had prepared her for that, shielded her mind and body. He snapped the violin case shut. “But there is no life to be found in the court either.”
It shocked him how true that statement was. He didn’t know what he would come back to if… when he returned. It might very well be an execution, or further restriction of his will. Returning would mean he was as good as dead. His shoulders felt heavy, his throat tight. It took conscious effort to keep his hands from shaking.
Still, he straightened his back and turned his attention back to his unwelcome companion.
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t return at all”, Aberdeen suggested, smiling sharply at the creature, “there really is much better company to be found than them.”
When she didn’t budge, didn’t move, he frowned. “I’m not coming with you.”
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Post by qhostqrowls on Aug 12, 2023 4:40:29 GMT -6
The thing stared uncomprehendingly at Aberdeen, a slight wrinkle between her brows. The suggestion of a life outside the court was ludicrous. The desperate words of a cornered man. She sauntered closer, eyes gleaming.
“Yes you are.” She said, and there was an impatient growl underlying the words. “If not today, I will find you tomorrow. Then the day after. We know where you work. Where your city den is. Even your lake and your wards could not keep me out.”
She stepped nearer, hand flashing out to grab Aberdeens wrist. Even in the petite form she had taken, Aberdeen could feel the raw, frightening strength coiled beneath her veneer of humanity. This was something wild and terrible, as untamed as the mountain rivers.
“Now, come.” She said, tugging him closer with seemingly no effort. “Let’s go.”
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Post by NightshadeVII on Aug 12, 2023 6:31:01 GMT -6
Aberdeen had almost forgotten just how downright annoying other fae was, especially those bound to a court. They were all the same. Obstinate, pig-headed and oh so pretentious. Always expecting to get things their way, like spoiled children.
“If they know so much, why don’t they come get me themselves? If they’re so keen on a reunion”, the nøkk’s smile turned wicked, malicious and cruel as he took her in, “or perhaps you truly are that expendable. Some obedient little thing that no-one would miss if I decided to put up a fight.”
His slender hand flexed in her grip, as he gauged his options. She was trying to intimidate him, showing strength to make him cower. As if he would ever come along quietly. The attempt was laughable. Despite what his dear court might think of him, he had adapted in his time away from them. Quickly, he broke free from her grip, stepping back. Beneath his skin, change rippled, preparing to fight, to kill if need be. To survive.
“Tell me”, Aberdeen’s voice was calm, cold like a winter lake, dangerous, “would you like to crawl back to your master missing your tongue?” His powers may be bound and his wards broken, but only a fool would underestimate a spiteful man with nothing to loose.
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Post by qhostqrowls on Aug 12, 2023 18:28:25 GMT -6
“You are not important enough for the lords themselves to come fetch you.” She said, her smile widening to something more akin to bared teeth. The insults didn’t seem to irritate her - she only laughed, the sound harsh and wrong in Dagmars throat.
“The cornered animal is always the one that bites the hardest. You have become as tame and weak as the humans you hide amongst. You will not win.”
She waved a hand, entirely dismissive of the notion that the fae could hurt her. He most certainly could. But she was assured of her own savagery, in the way any seasoned predator was.
She scowled as he broke away from her grip, freckled nose wrinkling in a snarl. She tossed her hair over her shoulder - a strangely horse-like motion, edging around the fae.
“You talk too much. It should be your tongue, not mine.” She finally said, almost offended by the idea. Her shoulders were squared, her stance the one of a beast about to pounce. But then she straightened, gazing down at the mist that had crept around their feet, almost at the waters edge.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. I hope your answer has changed.”
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Post by NightshadeVII on Aug 14, 2023 3:32:49 GMT -6
A sigh built in Aberdeen’s throat. This creature, whatever she was, was giving him a headache. Did she really believe what she was saying, or was she just regurgitating the words of others thoughtlessly? It wouldn’t surprise him, such were the fate of most court members, as soon as you began to dig beneath facades; thoughtless, driven only by orders or hollow promises. He too had been like that, ages ago, but unlike this one, he had been driven by fear, residual emotion that had been exploited ruthlessly. What made the creature before him tick was still a mystery, but if he were to survive this, he would have to find out.
The nøkk watched her closely, studying her every move, expecting the attack that would surely come. It hurt, watching Dagmar’s face, form, voice abused like this, worn like a costume. She was as she had all ways been to the court, a way to twist the knife deeper. His chest ached and he averted his eyes.
All he wanted was peace, to get away from the games and machinations of the court, their poisoned words and constant threats.
A sudden flash-fire anger rose Aberdeen’s chest. How dare she act as if he had a choice? As if he was some child throwing a tantrum? After everything they had done! How dare- He exhaled deeply, stilling his trembling hands. Focus. This was exactly what he couldn’t do, exactly what had gotten him in this mess so long ago. Emotion, sentiment, resentment. Useless now.
“Since you’re leaving, perhaps you could deliver a message to the court for me?”, he spoke up suddenly, choosing his own poison, “Fanden tage dem og deres hof. Må de rådne op.”
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Post by qhostqrowls on Aug 14, 2023 22:29:34 GMT -6
She paused at the threshold between the trees and the clearing, her stare dark and direct. Maybe it was the distance between them, but there appeared to be a steady creep of black up Dagmars fingers, bleeding up her skin like a stain.
“I do not speak the tongue of your court. You may tell them yourself.” The thing said, turning on her heel and disappearing into the fog.
The rest of Abby’s day passed uneventfully, marred only by the sense of dread that the courts request had left. The creeping feel of time running out, of eyes on his back, followed the nokk all the way to the city and his small apartment there. The shadows seemed darker, the night longer than usual.
When he woke the next morning, there was a glossy black bird perched on his windowsill. It tipped its sleek head sideways to stare at him, its orange eye as bright as an ember. It was bigger than a falcon, smaller than an eagle, but its curved beak spoke of its predatory nature. A far cry from the usual sparrows and pigeons of the area. There was something white clutched in its curved claws, half hidden by the edge of the windowsill.
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Post by NightshadeVII on Aug 15, 2023 2:29:07 GMT -6
Aberdeen didn’t sleep much at all that night, his dreams haunted by both the living and the dead. He had been so naive, thinking he could be safe here, but that was a theme of his life, wasn’t it? The sun rose unceremoniously, the sky grey with clouds and the promise of rain. Mist still curled in the mountains, never letting him forget about his situation, about the trap closing in from all sides.
Aberdeen’s heart sank as he saw the bird in his windowstill. He wasn’t surprised, not really, but he was disappointed, against his better judgement. Of course that creature would be here. She was stubborn, if nothing else. It was only a small mercy that she no longer paraded around with Dagmar’s face. He sighed, opening the window fully to observe the bird. Fresh blood stained its glossy beak, its claws digging into a white dove, whose guts spilled across the concrete. Another victim. Without warning, the nøkk reached out, grabbing the black bird harshly and pulling it into his apartment. There was a wet splat as the dove hit the hardwood floor, crimson blooming beneath it. Aberdeen did not care. He squeezed the bird in his hand tightly, pinning its wings and feeling its ribcage, its beating heart beneath his fingers. Perhaps he should kill her right now, crush her chest and be done with it, it wouldn’t help in the long run, but it might send a message. Cold turquoise caught gleaming orange.
“You…”, the nøkk began calmly, “really don’t know what’s good for you, do you?”
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Post by qhostqrowls on Aug 15, 2023 4:34:40 GMT -6
Siofra’s smug preening was cut abruptly short as the nokk’s hand flashed out. In the blink of an eye, she was within the apartment, the dove flopping ungraciously to the floor in a visceral splash of gore. The kite hissed, but its wings met resistance, talons cutting into nothing but air. For a few precious seconds, the changeling was entirely helpless.
She felt the pressure against her rib cage, could see the threat in Aberdeens eyes. Beneath his fingers, feathers shifted to fur, the bird shifting into something nightmarish, it’s form a terrible blend of several animals, all teeth and claws and glowing amber eyes.
The kite was no longer a bird, but a canine - a black-pelted fox sank its fangs deep into Aberdeens hand. It shook its head in a savage movement, skittering away from him the second he let go, hackles up and gums bared as it snarled.
Whatever grand speech she had prepared was long gone, and there was a high pitched yip as she started forwards towards the man as if to scare him off. This was not what she had been told - not what she had been expecting when she had glided down to his windowsill.
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Post by NightshadeVII on Aug 15, 2023 14:56:14 GMT -6
As fangs dug into flesh, the nøkk winced, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Pain shot through his veins like fire and he instinctively tried to toss her away, putting as much force into the throw as he could muster. Her fangs did not draw blood, instead, water spurted from Aberdeen’s hand, the tear clean, lacking all the visceral appeal of mortal wounds. Still, he cradled his torn up hand against his chest protectively, waiting for the flesh to begin to stitch itself together.
Not once, even as he blinked away tears, did his eyes leave the then-bird now-fox in front of him. This creature, whatever she was, was not of his old court. Of course, she might have arrived after he had left but something about her made him doubt that. She was too direct, too animal in her approach- she would never have been accepted by the court he knew. Unless they truly had grown that desperate. That thought made his lips twitch upwards in a brief smile, venomous satisfaction curling in his chest.
Though, satisfaction would have to wait. He needed to move, needed to act. The nøkk was not a fighter, he never had been, but still he had her on the defensive, and he would not waste this chance. He was nothing if not opportunistic. Swiftly he moved forward, aiming to kick her in the gut. If she would not listen to his words, he could make her understand in other ways.
As he got close, he noticed something curious, momentarily breaking his concentration; her form was marred by scars, barely covered by her glossy black fur. Strange. It wasn’t like anyone court-associated to have such blatant wounds, to be unable to hide scars. Shallow as fae were, these things were considered irredeemably hideous, like it was a personal failing to both acquire the wounds and be unable to hide them. Though this creature was both strong and fierce, she was disfigured- who or what had caused that? The nøkk shook his head- now was not the time for sympathy. He took another step forward, towering over the fae creature, hoping to pressure her, get her to make a mistake.
“I told you to leave me be”, Aberdeen said, “are you deaf or just stupid?”
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