Fire and Ice

[Tuvian Fulminare]

TERRITORY: Askavi, Strigavi
CITY/location: Just outside of Ligure, on the edge of the Painted River,  The Sea and Sky Tavern.
SPOTIFY LINK: Fire and Ice by Pat Benetar
Attire: Elegant golden gown, leopard hide belt, elegant sandals that strap all the way up.
PURPOSE: Meet Talimar, give him the news!
TIME: Summer, AW 104
TAGS: [ @Talimar ]

Fire and ice
You come on like a flame
Then you turn a cold shoulder

The only good thing about the Winds being destabilized, was that Tuvian was free to fly. High, far, fast. A gold-black glint in the sky, her distant shadow blessing or curse to those below, depending upon the weather. Banking swiftly, she folded her wings and dropped below her dual Escorts. Their hunting cries were snatched from her by the wind of her passage, but a brush of power from each of them assured her she was still well within their net. Good, good.

Her oldest son, Gladiar, dove directly after her. Foolish; she had too much of a head start. But the young Warlord Prince’s instinct to give chase ruled him still. Just before he closed with her, she spun in place. Her Purple Dusk wrapped around him in a physical shield, then pulled tight, fouling his wings. As he fell past her, she reached out to touch his nose, counting coup. He snarled and laughed at once, more horrified by her re-enacting a childhood ritual than by the plummet towards the earth.

The air shifted behind her, as her second son swooped on a nearly-perfect trajectory to foul her wings with his wind-shear… but he was young, eager, and far too interested in jeering at his brother. The young Prince did not often beat his twin in combat drills.

Silly boy. He should not have let himself become distracted, and not gotten quite so close to her. Tuvian swept her legs close to her body, and then kicked him hard, right in his puffed up chest. Had they been upon the ground, it would not have moved him. Even in the air, his more massive, heavily muscled form barely moved.

But she shot away from him as if launched. And that’s when he felt her Purple Dusk Psychic Probe, from the softer, unnoticed touch to his bare arm. A simple one, carrying enough of her Healing Gift to mess with his inner ears.

He fell into a flat spin, which ought to have taken him out. But a young Prince is not easily defeated, even (or especially) when things are bleakest. No, the clever young scamp added power to his spin, despite the blinding pain of the inner ear imbalance she’d triggered. His Birthright Summer-sky was more than strong enough to capture all three of them in the miniature whirlwind.

Tuvian’s laughter rippled through the sky, and she deftly wove a Blood Opal Cushioning Spell to catch all of them, setting them down gently.

Gladiar bounced to his feet, helping up his mother but leaving Ferriar to fend for himself. He was more serious now, painfully aware of his duty as Escort. His gaze swept around, nose sniffing the air as he sought information from the discreet Hunter’s Mark Tuvian had asked him to place upon Prince Talimar. “He’s here, Mother.”

“Please keep track of him, in case he bolts.”

The Sea and Sky Tavern was an elegant, tall tower crafted in the era before Witch. Before the Black Age. The first six floors were a lovely blue-green stone, the concentric circles of each floor growing smaller as it grew in height. This left a plethora of outdoor dinning and tall blooming from the terraces so created. The back of the tower intersected a waterfall, creating an entrancing sound reminiscent of the ocean. Curling flows of water both maintained the foliage, and curled into beautifully sculpted water art all along the Tavern. Occasionally, spills of water were allowed to fall from one floor to the next, providing both privacy screens and a cool place to rest, even in the height of summer. Then next two floors shot free of the water fall, and were crafted of vast white ash trees, each several feet across, the inner limbs woven together through skill and Craft to form the next floor, the outer limbs curved high and wide to create private booths, landing pads, and even one large banquet hall. A final, slender spire was crafted of a brilliant, white shaped granite in so fine a lattice work one might be forgiven for thinking the entire structure created by the Dea al Mon.

But oh, if you knew the heart of an Eyrien, you understood the appeal of a tavern that soared defiantly into the heavens. Without even speaking, the three Eyriens took to the sky and shot towards the first of the white ash levels. Upon landing, she released her twin sons to enjoy the Tavern. At 104, they were old enough to feel a pang of conscious about allowing a dual Caste Priestess Healer and the Territory Court High Priestess to be on her own, but young enough that the lure of ditching their mother won out over duty.

 Which was precisely why she’d chosen them as Escort today. The coming interview would go much, much better if Prince Talimar did not have any male allies readily to hand. While her children fled, Tuvian extended her senses, and sought for the unique Psychic presence that she sought.

A swift brush of craft neatened her loose bun, and removed all debris from the soft, golden gown she wore. Sandaled feet with delicate straps elegantly wrapped up her legs. A leopard sash bound her waist, highlighting the gold dust in her wings and the black accents of her eyes. Tuvian did not bother to conceal the ragged scar with its star-like marks upon her upper left arm. Nor did she employ craft to conceal the whip marks along her wings, back and neck. The man she sought out had been wounded far, far more grievously.

[Talimar]

Sometimes a man just had to have a look at the competition. And... it was fierce. Tali might have been ashamed if he'd been anyone else. He knew Rian would have been dismayed to compare them. But this was a fortress, built for pleasure rather than defense.

What they had built was a haven. A quiet place for travelers and rebels as they passed through to better things.

Still, he went inside. He'd never tell Rian he'd done so. But such a pretty building had to have even prettier occupants, Tali felt very sure. It was... something exotic Tali couldn't name. The back of his neck was red with heat, not just from the sun, but from a feeling. He'd never been outside of Askavi, unless you counted a bit of border hopping during the war, which was something far different than sight seeing.

So Tali didn't.

But this was almost like that. Like a whole different place than Askavi. Places Tali couldn't name or imagine. Hell, half the time he forgot what lay where around his own territory. Just that it had too many borders to defend and he wasn't really capable of defending them anymore. Instead he ran a tavern on a stretch of dirt with a bitchy sister seeing to the inn half.

"Well fuck." He muttered softly before laughing, a calloused hand rubbing the back of his neck. Trying to chase the blush away.

He found a good place to sit and ordered a drink. A table to lean over while he watched the people around him. Smiles for the women, and something a little more subtle for the men. Men were usually less obvious. All that training and violence made them shy about certain things. Tali didn't mind shy.

The gem of the bunch entered after he did. Tali almost suspected her of doing it on purpose. He'd never seen a woman in so much gold. Even her wings were adorned with it. Scrubbing his cheek, Tali drank, eyes bright with interest.

And then recognition. He'd seen this one at the Queen's court. Glimpsed when he slunk into Ilithian's presence, to press his forehead to her knee and drink from the cool pool of her Sapphire. "Lady Fulminare!" He half rose, tipping his drink to her, voice loud enough to carry without shouting for attention. What was the court priestess doing way out here? "Lost?" he asked, grinning like a damn idiot.

[Tuvian Fulminare]

TERRITORY: Askavi, Strigavi
CITY/location: Just outside of Ligure, on the edge of the Painted River, The Sea and Sky Tavern.
SPOTIFY LINK: Fire and Ice by Pat Benetar
Attire: Elegant golden gown, leopard hide belt, elegant sandals that strap all the way up.
PURPOSE: Meet Talimar, give him the news!
TIME: Summer, AW 104
TAGS: [ @Talimar ]

So you think you got it all figured out
You're an expert in the field, without a doubt
But I know your methods inside and out
And I won't be takin' in by fire and ice

And there he was, settled in a corner table with both a defensible position and an excellent view of the room. His warm, inviting smile turned positively scintillating when he saw her, flashing white teeth and laughing eyes. His body was lean and strong his bearing that of a warrior, but consciously (it had to be consciously, she thought) without the sense of imminent violence Tuvian routinely associated with Eyrien males.

Despite the crowd and the noise, his voice carried easily to her - battlefield trained, she suspected. No doubt he’d sound as clear and calm no matter what was happening around them. A deadly sense of sweetness, of the security and safety emanated from the Prince. That, she thought, might well be accidental. Perhaps he no longer saw himself as a threat, despite his Opal Jewel. A deadly, dangerous predator, who was trying to convince the world he wasn’t.

Stepping down to his level, she gave him an admiring look that neither dwelled overlong upon his damages, nor ignored them. Nothing was worse than people carefully ‘not looking.’ Not even staring. So she saw, but she also saw past the hurt.

“Prince Talimar,” Tuvian’s smile swept up, unable to resist that huge, damning grin, though even his enthusiasm could not entirely erase the hint of sorrow from her eyes. A touch of tension in how she stood, though voice and expression were flawlessly at ease. “May I join you? I … have something to ask you.” Several somethings, and no way to know how he’d respond.

[Talimar]

So formal. Tali's grin went crooked at the prince. He supposed he was one, but it was only strangers who ever attached the honorific to him anymore. Or court women. Tali didn't mind. Didn't mind her looking either. Most did. But he still tucked the ragged end of his ruined wing beneath the full sail of the other one.

He was only being polite. "Tali, please. Only my sister calls me Talimar, and never for good reason." He winked at her, trying to dispel the tension in her back. Tapping his drink on the table, he tipped it to the seat across from him. "Of course, lady." Curiosity lit his eyes at her interest.

Easing back into his seat, Tali was thankful for the backless stools they offered. It made arranging the wings all the easier. He didn't have to fight with a chair back and try to find a comfortable and discreet way to drape his wings over it. Especially when he planned on spending most of his time leaning forward.

Not to crowd. Crowding witches rarely went well. But he couldn't completely resist the urge to lean in.

"Would you like a drink?" Tali asked as he examined her. Much as he wanted to dive into whatever it was the priestess wished to ask him, he hesitated. Her demeanor told him straight away that she wasn't bearing an invitation to her bed. What else she might want from him, Tali couldn't imagine.

Opening his palms, knuckles to the table top, Tali lifted his shoulders in question. "What is it you need of me, lady?" Might as well yank the bandage off.

[Tuvian Fulminare]

TERRITORY: Askavi, Strigavi
CITY/location: Just outside of Ligure, on the edge of the Painted River,  The Sea and Sky Tavern.
SPOTIFY LINK: Fire and Ice by Pat Benetar
Attire: Elegant golden gown, leopard hide belt, elegant sandals that strap all the way up.
PURPOSE: Meet Talimar, give him the news!
TIME: Summer, AW 104
TAGS: [ @Talimar ]




That bright smile of his fell to crooked, when she honored him with his title, though her own widened a touch, at how easily he endured being seen. A lot of people hated it.

“Very well; Tali, it is.” she agreed to the informal names between them. “And please call me Tuvian.” Though she wasn’t sure he’d appreciate the informality, once he knew why she was here. Sadly, even the wink and tease about his sister failed to ease the nearly-hidden tension within.

With easy grace, Tuvian slid into the indicated seat, her wings folding carefully behind her, though they did not tuck as neatly or tightly as his own, but flared gently around her chair. “I am quite fond of the Salted Caramel Apple Martini? Have you tried it? Please have one with me.”

Ah, the cautious concern told her that he was wiser than he wished anyone to know. Her smile faded, and she assessed him carefully, once more. Yet she waited until someone and come and gone with their drinks, before turning the conversation back to why she was was looking for him.

He’d need something to fortify himself with.

Tuvian lifted her hand, and summoned a Memory Crystal therein. It sparkled and glowed with life, a memory carefully crafted and placed within it. She placed it upon the table, midway between them, a gesture inviting him to look at the image therein.

“I bring you news of great joy, Tali. Joy and sorrow, both. Last night, just as the moon set, a son was born to you.”

In the Crystal, was the image Tuvian comforting a newborn baby. Head bit squished, with red splotches; giant, hurting eyes that soon closed into sleep; tousled black hair; golden skin. She pressed a small kiss to his forehead, and gently nestled him next to an ill woman who probably was one of his lovers. His many, many lovers.

But it was hard to tell, between that part of the embedded memory being out of focus, and how ill the new mother was.

[Talimar]

His cheeks and chest puffed at the invitation. Tuvian. It was always a good start when a lady allowed you to drop the title. Curiosity ate its way up his spine. What did she want of him, he wondered? Not a romp, but obviously a something. Had she followed him here? Or was it luck chance?

"With honor." A dozen questions he couldn't ask. Not just yet. But Tali was a patient man. She joined his with a fluid grace only the whole could exhibit. Wings like a backdrop to her beauty, displayed as much as they were put away. He leaned in, into her person, into her invitation.

"I've not, but I'll gladly try it with you." He was a simple man of simple tastes. It sounded outlandish to his tongue, and he offered nothing like it at his own bar, but he would drink one with her and enjoy it simply because she did.

The pleasure was not to be had just yet. Nor answers. The weight of expectation hung between them. Cut not at all by the serving witch, or the drinks she returned with. A glass for each of them, the expectation between, like a glass window. Tali wondered if it would shatter, drinking as Tuvian pulled something from her cabinet.

A crystal. Tali squinted at it, unfamiliar with the craft. It was placed in the thing between them. Became the thing between them. Swallowing, he exchanged drink - which was coyly sweet - for the crystal, holding it up to his eye as Tuvian indicated.

Eyes round, he looked past the crystal to the lady across from him. "Was there?" He asked, sugar crackling like lightning on his tongue. He tilted the memory, gut stirring as he looked back at the memory held in crystal. An angry little face, molted and misshapen from birth looked back at him. Or so Tali felt. But really the baby looked upon into a face he could not see.

He recognized the collar bones however. This was Lady Tuvian's memory. Tali drank with his off hand as the babe was transferred from Priestess - or did she act as Healer here? - to mother. The mother he recognized. He was not an uncaring paramour, nor a forgetful one. "Sabaian." He murmured.

Spinning the memory in his fingers, Tali peered into the prints of his fingers, thoughtful. A breath later, he offered it back to her. "She does not look well." He commented. The babe he could not guess. Talimar's acquaintance with newborns was very, very limited. Mostly to none.