For those who would be enemies (Private)

[Chrysannia Syl'lithar]

Sixth brightening of Cryxatum

Ashwood Manor, ancient home of the mighty House Luviel, stood like a proud sentinel within the rich grounds of the Amethyst Court. The giant keep standing like a giant mountain with lush valleys winding in and out of it. It was truly a great example of elvish architecture. Unlike most of the richer homes in the Court that were built so close together and had almost no regard to natura, Ashwood like the beautiful domes of Ta'Vaalor shone through the grey of the rest. Fitting for a family that were proud, strong and yet could be as soft as grass.

As of that moment though, the most important area of the house was a small sitting room located near the central gardens. It was richly decorated in cherry wood, fine furnishings such as paintings, drawings, statues and books gave the room a homey feel. It would convey perfectly the import of the meeting of leaders.

In the room sitting and waiting patiently were Heru Siaren Luviel, Heru Jaraelium Celerrond, Arwen Chrysannia Syl'lithar and Karo Celerrond. The four sat in dim silence as all knew what was about to happen within the comfy confines of the room. Only two others would join them that brightening, two who would be questioned and questioned again for acts that the two knew were right. The might lords and lady would wait for them, in tense silence, to arrive.

OOC: This thread is only to have GM Ragman, Chrysannia Syl'lithar, Karo whatever he calls himself, Nimavel Mynendil and Cala Gil'dae posting in it.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Trust. It was the root of elfin politics, spawned from the political relationships that associated all clans and houses to one of the three domineering Elder families. For all within Syl’rosya were tied in one form or another to a greater home, subsequently establishing themselves amidst the noble hierarchy of the woodland people. There were some who boasted a superior surplus of advocates and then there were others whose power dwindled by the brightenings.

Nimavel Mynendil mentally weighed these burdensome considerations as he endeavored to Ashwood Manor, a sojourn that ordinarily did not conflict with his good conscience. Normally he traveled by route of a clandestine pathway that House Mynendil had established with House Luviel over the years, but considering the circumstances of this particular brightening, the elfin lord steered clear of the normal protocol.

Things had changed drastically over the past few brightenings.

It was unheard of that an Heru of House Mynendil’s loyalty was subjected to austere questioning, especially from the likes of an authority as revered as the Lord of House Luviel. Consequently, for Nimavel to have been subtly interrogated by Siaren Luviel only the previous brightening ago did not speak highly on behalf of their relationship.

Or at the very least it foreshadowed what was to come.

And even more peculiarly, for Siaren Luviel to summon the assassin the following brightening after inscribing the closing clause, Your friend…

Nimavel subscribed to the school of thought that lectured of dubiousness, suspiciousness rooted in the very fact that Siaren Luviel had certainly not proffered the mantle of friendship, at least not as long as the Heru Mynendil was associated with Calairiel Gil’dae.

The mere notion evoked a lavender fire to dance within the elfin lord’s predatory gaze, one that was untraditional for him to display so brazenly. Yet for one of the few instances in his life, the Lord of House Mynendil candidly entertained flecks of anger amalgamated with pessimism –and most notably, he did not care.

He was not in the best of moods.

Surprisingly, though, he managed to stifle the inner flames that radiated from his violet eyes after a few moments. Stepping alongside his love, the elfin lord was reminded that his was not the only future to regard this brightening. House Mynendil would survive with or without House Luviel. Ever since Nimavel’s ascension to the throne of the clandestine family, he had craftily established various associations in different cities.

Above all, those of House Mynendil were survivors.

But what of House Gil’dae?

A dash of softness permeated the elf’s gaze as he turned to Calairiel, so beautiful and tranquil despite the tension of the upcoming assembly. Her composure was remarkable, comparatively akin to the assassin’s own whenever he embarked on his most precarious of endeavors.

He knew that Calairiel was a fighter as well, nearly as stubborn as Nimavel was whenever he set his mind to something. But unlike Nimavel, Calairiel had an obligation to a family that knew Elfhame and nothing else.

Nimavel could only begin to wonder how many of them had ever weighed the possibility of beginning life anew outside of Silrosia.

Sighing softly, the elf offered a comforting nod to the silver-haired maiden and continued to tread silently beside her. They were in this together regardless if all odds were seemingly against them. They would oppose House Luviel and all of its supporters if need be –but only so long as they continued to believe that what they were doing was right.

And both of them obstinately did.

[Karo Sa'Nepenthes]

"You've got to be joking."

While perhaps undiplomatic, Karo's reaction to being asked to attend this meeting had been quite honest, and he stood by it. Only, the invitation had turned out not to be, in fact, a joke, so here he was. Trapped in a sitting room with some of the most powerful elves in the Combine. His brother he felt completely at ease with, it was true, and he had gotten enough used to Chrysannia that he could at least avoid feeling as if he were constantly being weighed, measured and probed, to find whatever weaknesses might be in him.

Not to say that Siaren Luviel was doing that, per se. In all actuality, it was far more likely that the former Governor was beneath Heru Siaren's notice entirely. Or perhaps Siaren had deigned to notice his presence, and might even be offended by it. It was just that Karo was very conscious of the difference in their status, and of the fact that even when the others arrived, hewould be the only elf in the room not the leader of a House. What business had he in such company?

And yet... And yet duty pulled at him strongly. Not just duty to those in the leadership of his House and his family, for whom he would do almost anything. But duty to another as well. Calairiel had Nimavel to support her in every way, but Karo was still her friend, and he wanted to be here to offer whatever he could. Not that it would be worth much, considering his relative insignificance compared to everyone else who would be at the meeting, and that her love would likely offer all the support that she needed, but Karo was a creature of passion in many ways, and absolute, unwavering loyalty to his friends was a part of his very soul. Useless though he would likely be, and overshadowed though he felt, he was here. Because in his mind, at least, there were no alternatives, not without betraying Cala or his family or both. And Karo simply could not do either of those things.

And so the newest Lord of House Celerrond sat on the comfortable armchair he'd been given, trying his best not to think about how tiny he was, and how easily crushed he could be between the titans that would meet here. Karo realized, in a way that he never had before, why it was such a terrible idea to pilot a longboat between full-sized ships. Of course, things weren't necessarily going to go wrong here. But if he knew Chrys, and if he knew Calairiel, they probably would, just because that was just the malicious tendency of the universe some brightenings.

Phedos, what he would have given for a good stiff drink.

[Calairiel Mynendil Gil'dae]

This was not how things were supposed to play out.

The young Arwen…leader of House Gil’dae…planned everything. Since taking the reigns of the troubled House, she had drawn out what would be the path back to redemption from the mistakes of the past. She –knew- how she wanted things to be.

But somewhere between that and accomplishing her goal, someone had gotten it in their head to muck up her perfectly laid out plans.

This did not make the Arwen Gil’dae happy.

Being summoned to Ashwood was the last thing Calairiel wanted at that time. She knew that she needed to speak to Heru Luviel eventually, but it was supposed to be when –she- was ready, not him. Regardless, he was her superior in the Combine and Gil’dae did owe Luviel for favors in the past. However, no matter who owed what, there were certain things that were going to be dealt with, and if he was going to force her hand with a meeting, then so be it.

What came as a complete shock was when Nimavel revealed that he too had been summoned. Arching a soft eyebrow at that revelation, Calairiel wondered exactly about the purpose of said meeting. The pair had discussed what they would do, and it had been decided that they would attend…together. A united front was the best way to confront whatever was before them, and at least punctuate the fact that no matter of anyone’s disapproval, the couple was committed to each other, and their future.

There was nothing within elfhame that could tear them apart. Of this, Calairiel was certain.

So she prepared for the meeting, choosing a lavender and silver silk gown to complement her unusual coloring, as well as black velvet cloak for the ride to Luviel’s estate….a ride that would be made with Nimavel by her side.

The pair had made good time through the darkness of the Syl’rosyan woods, coming upon the vast estate and being taken within its boundaries by the House guards. Just before they reached the building however, Calairiel turned to Nimavel…her love…and softly kissed his lips…voice lingering gently before they resumed their steps.

"I love you."

It was a simple statement, full of conviction and commitment, meant to convey so much more then Calairiel could ever verbalize. He was –the- one. The –only- one that she would ever love. The only one that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The only one that she wanted to have a family with. Life didn’t mean anything to her without him next to her. It was amazing..and slightly frightening how much those three little words could mean.

It took no time at all for the horses to be settled with food and water and the couple to be escorted inside and announced to all present.

The Arwen Gil’dae and Heru Mynendil had arrived.

Calairiel’s slender arm was wrapped through Nimavel’s, head held high, ready for whatever was to be tossed at them. Her silver eyes gave a very small flicker of surprise as she happily noted Karo’s presence, knowing that he would lend her much needed support. She had no opinion of the Heru of Celerrond as she had only met him very recently. She –did- however, have an opinion on the Arwen next to him, and it wasn’t a very good one. She was brash and bold and very full of herself in Calairiel’s opinion. Someone taking her down a few notches would have done the Arwen a world of good, but instead she was enabled to do what she did while the Herus sat by and grinned. Of everything she had heard regarding Heru Luviel, the only thing she had witnessed of his behavior was him doing exactly that. They had embarrassed the young Calairiel in front of the whole Combine, and that was something she wouldn’t forget so easily. In fact, the only people that had come to her defense were her own brother and the younger E’braeyl brother, whose motivates were still murky.

It was definitely a mix of personalities. One had to wonder what possibly could be so important as to put that particular mix of people in one room together.