Look At Me (Giselle)

[Ethvae Ny'kely]

Like tear drops, the petals of white flowers washed all over the place. Ethvae sat upon the slab, her shoulders arched, having perfect posture. The petals landed in her ratty hair, sticking themselves there as though feathers. Some petals even landed upon her dark eye lashes. Still no movement from the female, because inside, she was dying. Her soul was having a hard time filling the empty gaps in this body, and she feared she would not die, but simply be lost in a sea of souls -- much like the wandering petals in the air.

Her hands resting in her lap finally twitched, her fingers curling into her palm. Ethvae’s movements were rapid now, as she stood upon the small dip of the slap, her toes curling into the stone to keep her balance. The earth fey’s teeth were bared, as though in pain. She had wanted to kill someone. Kill someone. To see the red as roses fall over the innocence of the white. Even the air she breathed wasn’t clean to her, but tainted in falsehoods.

If the plants and trees felt emotions such as Fey did, she would have turned this beautiful place upside down. Unfurling her fingers from her palms, she raised her hands to her face, to feel the difference of temperature. Her fingers were cold, her cheeks hot, as though she wanted to cry. Yet, there was no signals to give away that she felt anything. Then, she stopped.

A brilliant idea crossed her.

“Simply wither and die, before Death catches me first,” she was not beyond talking to herself, for in her head, she was speaking to her Mother. She deserved nothing more or less, than to simply die without a proper ritual, just as she had done to her Mother. So where had her mother’s soul gone to? One hand moved from her face, and her hands trailed down the tattered fabric of her dress, the pads of her fingers stopping on top of the handle of a small dagger she carried with her.

Despite the appeal of the idea, she acted no further.

[Giselle]

The mistake had been made, blood was shed. Now here she was back home, in her earthen territory. Privately Giselle considered all earth, not just the kingdom but the ground walked upon by all fey, to her hers. The warrior had a connection to such things that most others had lost or were not capable of having so it seemed only right.

The blood was still fresh about her person, yet not on her skin. Some of it had simply fallen off while some had been absorbed by the tattoos themselves. Part of her wanted to be rid of the clothing as well, it still smelled like a combination of Alexci and the flowers that bloomed there in the Light court. It seemed to mark her guilt, she who had attacked one of the alliances and made him bleed rather thoroughly.

Walking, yet not alone, she spotted Ethvae. The one who wore the countenance of the former ruler of Earth. There was a conflict upon her face, emotions warring with one another. Loyalty demanded she say something but this one was not really the ruler even if she had her face. Still she knew the fey anyway and was uncertain what was going on.

The flowers caressed her ankles she strode barefoot up to the other Earth fey. “What are you doing Ethvae?” Her voice was low, seductive, also…like it normally was. Giselle had the build of a goddess and the voice of someone used to speaking sensual words into another fey ear. The last part not far from true, she enjoyed keeping company with other fey, at least for the physical.

[Ethvae Ny'kely]

Ethvae had always been remarkably taller than Giselle, and now that she stood upon the slab, she felt as though she was a giant. Her eyes appeared fearful as she looked down to the Warrior. This body, these memories, had recalled many instances where Giselle and Ethvae fought and protect -- side by side. But Asioria knew Giselle to be a friend, someone to talk to, not a protector. So, it always took a few minutes for Ethvae to respond to the female. However, her lips curled in a little, breathing in a metallic sort of scent.

The girl removed her fingers from the dagger and jumped off from the slab. She was still inches taller than Giselle, but it felt right to be on the same ground as the Warrior walked. Despite the other girl’s natural voice, Ethvae could sense there was something off. A wave of guilt, and it was not her own -- it had nothing to do with the contemplation of suicide; no, it reflected off of Giselle beautifully.

“Reminiscing,” she said softly, before turning her body to the girl. Giselle was the opposite of Ethvae in everywhere. Giselle was a bright, beautiful rose, standing out in all the white. And Ethvae was old, graying, as though fading in with the background. While she had not been Ethvae in soul, she was still her mother in body, and this mind had referred to her friend as a kin. “My child,” the girl soothed, reaching the warrior, to place a weak hand upon Giselle’s right shoulder.

The other hand reached forward as well, so that her fingers could tangle in the pretty red locks of the warrior. She was brushing them softly, and she used her powers weakly on Giselle and that was only a reflection of forgiveness, for whatever the warrior had done. “You’re wandering, tell me, what is weighing you down?”

Her arms stayed distances apart, leaving her torso area open, just in-case Giselle needed to come in for a hug. It was not unusual for either Ethvae or Asioria to be affectionate with the girl, for she had been a daughter and sister to her.

[Giselle]

There was nothing about Giselle that would put Ethvae in danger, for the Warrior trusted and loved her fellow Earth fey. It was not the type of love that would be associated with passionate embraces, whispered urgings and exultant cries however. This was a different love an older love, yet deeper in ways others may not be able to comprehend.

The touch was soothing, it calmed Giselle’s frantic nerves easily and she let go of a breath that she was unaware of holding. Her shoulders went slack and she allowed herself to push closer to Ethvae, to wrap her arms around the taller fey and hold her. It was awhile before she said anything, because right now words would not come. Though the blame did and it washed over her in a rush. Being so close to her friend often helped the warrior release anything negative she was feeling. Comfort, affection, love…these things were craved by and essential to Giselle, and things she did not receive often.

“I attacked someone from the Light court, someone important I believe.” Her voice was calm as were her nerves now, thanks to her friend. She could tell the tale without falling apart or hating herself for the slight that could cost so much. “We were talking; Alexci and I, and then I sat in his lap which was fine. Though I cannot remember what happened, he flipped a switch and knocked me down. I attacked him, the tattoos. It happened without thinking.” Her arms tightened around the other fey and she sucked in a breath.

“I worry that this could mess up things for the courts. Given my title, my position in things it may seem a lot worse then it was. Perhaps I should step down, most do not care for me as it is.”

[Ethvae Ny'kely]

Ethvae lost any true desire to love and care, but Giselle was weaved in every fiber of her life. From mother to daughter, and there was no way she could flee from the warrior. After all, her absence for years after the Fissure of Woe, must have marked that she simply died (or so the rumors always implied). The girl’s arms were wrapped around her body, the physical contact heightening her senses; her powers. She could read into now, feeling out the impending guilt, shame and regret. Yet, under all those strong emotions, there was a glimmer of confusion. Ethvae brushed her fingers through Giselle’s hair once more, before wrapping her arms around the warrior.

She had pulled Giselle in a tightest of holds. The contact wasn’t anything light, they were pressed together, flesh to flesh. Ethvae moved her head down so she could place her cheek on top of Giselle’s head, the spindle of hair warm beneath her cold cheek. Out of all the Earth fey Ethvae encounter, Giselle was the very symbol of their deity -- mother nature. Because Ethvae no longer took care of her health, her grasp was weak, but it was still enough to show that she was holding Giselle as tight as she could.

Alexci. The name was familiar to Ethvae’s brain, for it was a person in the Light’s inner court. She had spoken to him a few times, but there was no way to detect his powers, or to even claim his as a threat. In fact, the first time ‘Ethvae’ had met Alexci, the boy was rather quiet and shy. For Giselle to feel this way was wrong.

“Don’t threat over this fey,” she said quietly, moving back a little so that she could try and stare at Giselle’s face. “You are perfect for our Kingdom, and the trees, the grass and the animals know it to be so. With you here, there has not been such a trivial attack, we are all protected because of you. Whatever the reason, my child, you felt the need to protect. I’d never accuse your powers to be wrong.”

There was a soft smile on Ethvae’s sunken face, and she bent her knees to get eye-level with the warrior. Leaning in, so that their noses touch, she asked in a whisper, “Do you need to feel better, beyond my words?” For Ethvae could make all these doubts go away.

[Giselle]

Normally contact like this would elicit a response from the Warrior that had nothing to do with sweet comfort and everything to do with carnal pleasures. Yet this was Ethvae and Giselle was not feeling frisky, though she had been earlier…it had gotten her in trouble and a Light fey harmed. She ran her fingers up and down the others back, over the cloth seeking something with all the movement yet unsure what she was after.

The little Earth fey had been upset before but not like this. She wanted to remain in good graces with certain people and was somewhat terrified of ruining the alliance. Sometimes she could overreact; part of being filled to the brim with so much passion…it could go for good or bad. More often then not it was good and she was a hyper, happy and extremely affectionate woman.

Hearing those words helped to soothe Giselle. It was true, she had prevented many attacks even before she was the Warrior. This was her home whether some of the fey liked her wild nature or not, and she would protect it and them till her dying breath. The only thing that had changed was her receiving the title. She still refused to live in or near the palace and remained with the animals out in the woods that she has been raised in. Giselle was, and would always be, of the nature.

“I do not know. I felt so horrible after I had realized my actions. I stabbed him very deep and he was bleeding all over the grounds. I just hope no one noticed and it can be played off.” She tilted her head to look at Ethvae then and gave her a bright if somewhat shaky smile. “Damn me and my passion, I act before and think later.” Most of the time this did not bother her, but there were situations where it would…this was definitely one.

[Ethvae Ny'kely]

Ethvae took the warrior words in stride, listening to each syllable and refusing to react suddenly. No matter who she was, there was always a sort of behavior that ran in her blood, and that was to remain calm. Going insane over every little nuisances never helped with anything. Her expression shifted a little, and she leaned in closer to the smaller female, finding it easier to place her crooked mouth upon the warrior’s right cheek. Her fingers upon Giselle tightened a little, keeping the female close to her as possible. Ethvae continued to reflect a comforting emotion off of her, allowing it to take up the atmosphere.

As she backed away a little, the digits of her fingers shifted near to the warrior’s side, so that she could poke at the other female’s rib cage. Her eyes appeared to glow green with all the light contrast in the area, random spots of white fluttering - white petals ended up landing upon Giselle’s red hair, making her look almost like a swan. While she would have been content messing around with Giselle’s physical form, a left hand reached back so that she could place one boney finger upon Giselle’s nose. “You’re here now, believe me, if the Light court truly found out what happened -- they would’ve kept you prisoner, or perhaps even commend you to death.”

If Ethvae had caught wind that Giselle had been captured, even sentenced to death, Ethvae would willingly disperse herself into the light kingdom - kill whoever - just to get to the warrior. There was no way she could let two people she cared for to die, twice.

The old earth fey shifted back with her feet a little, moved the hand that had poked Giselle outward, extending it to the warrior. Ethvae should have felt tickled over the situation, or from the petals, but there was no sudden laugh from her. Instead, she continued to peer upon Giselle, welcoming her presence. Perhaps she had a purpose yet. To stay alive to keep Giselle breathing.

“How… is everything in the Kingdom?” she asked, curious as to what she left behind.