A Court of Fate and Failure | Azriel

16: Pact and Plan

Naoise still wasn't sure what Rhys's stance was on her. Least not yet. Not concretely. Whenever she saw him there was such a potent mix, an elixir, of emotions that even she had a hard time sifting through all the different meanings they could have. 

If she had more to put towards the task, more time, more energy, perhaps it would have been easy. But festivities were rising in Velaris, and along with it came certain casualties. Shoplifting. Robbery. Loud neighbors and fae that found it necessary to make it her problem. General chaos all around in preparation for the winter solstice. Naoise now had no time to do anything but the job she pledged herself to. Really, nothing better than a small town human sheriff sent to deal with everything big or small.

And so it was, two weeks later, when he summoned her once more to the House of Wind. 

This time, she knew she would not hold the cards nor the power. Their every beating heart already awaited her in that manor within the mountain. Naoise knew she was the guest. But she was also the rookie, the one they'd be watching scrutinously through whatever was to happen.

It'd been so long since anyone could even fathom calling her such a thing, that she wasn't even mad. Whatever they wished her to do, she would do. And, well, if it was something that grated with what little morals she had to offer, then she would fight all the same.

She dismissed the depressing notion of just another way to die sooner rather than later.

With one last flap of her wings, Naoise's feet touched down on the balcony of the House of Wind. One last breeze rushed forth by the smooth folding of her wings behind her back and fluttered her hair left to hang loose around her face, subtle waves of mahogany and old blood. And as it settled on her shoulders, it gave her the briefest reprieve from an already mounting headache when, hidden among the strands, a darkness seeped to settle. A light mist hidden away from view. Darkness incarnate resting atop her head and hiding beneath the scales and straps of her armor.

Keeping her steps smooth and light, Naoise slid open the glass door and closed it behind her, keeping a leisurely stroll as she ventured to the table. The one where each and every one of them sat, some chatting, but most of all, all watching. As if memory and instinct took hold once more, she loosely clasped her hands behind her back and stopped next to Rhys, looking at him with a silent implore in every one of her body's expressions.

He dared to smirk up at her. She felt his emotions go to war against one another. "Now that she's here," he said, addressing the room even as their eyes locked in a battle of wills. "Let's begin."

Then he stood with a cursory brushing of invisible lint from his clothes and, as he led the way down a hall of crimson, the rest followed, silent and seemingly solemn. But their emotions were as ordinary as any day, merely possessing a fraction of what she considered to be thought. Though, of course, she couldn't feel such a thing that concretely, not like Rhys could. But as they walked on without a word her way, she had no option but to do the same in complete silence and hesitant confusion. That is, until she witnessed Azriel elbowing Cassian in the gut after a hushed whisper, and the big brute convulsed with laughter. Everyone rolled their eyes at him. The scene both soothed and unsettled her at the very same time, the mixture of a bitter and smooth tang on her tongue.

Soon, they stood before a familiar map. Once more, all fell silent and watched as she closed her eyes and searched the mountains and the forests, sifting through beating hearts fearful and filled with fury alike. Until her finger came to a gentle stop on a clump of trees and a resounding snarl joined her own throughout the room. Just as with the last time, the darkness in their hearts battled her own. 

Naoise stepped back and her wings hid her from view as she struggled with such hate and evil. Fought an age-old battle among the territories of her thoughts, treacherous beings they were. Blades struck in her mind. Magic clashed. Sides were taken and betrayals sudden in this fight for the evil that lurked deep within. Every bit of her knew it was there, and would one day escape. And everything hoped to gain control of her precious sanity.