when do fairy tales cease to be tales? - Pavetta - 03-04-2018
p a v e t t a - - -
Pavetta could not recall his name.
He was a bore, mostly; a posh, self-righteous fellow with an inflated sense of worth. The sort Pavetta was all-too familiar with. She had been courted by similar dolts and knew how it all went; the wooing, the garden strolls, the forced laughter. He annoyed her, thoroughly. She had hoped to ditch him early on, but now, you see, he wore a particularly striking jewel on his brow, held in place with little delicate chains. She felt badly about the ordeal, but not badly enough to deter her less than innocent motives elsewhere. And so she smiled blandly in all the right places, she oohed and ahhed at his cringeworthy tales of his journey of knighthood and honorable deeds he had carried out (for the good of the realm), and sighed romantically and leaned into him; ever the lovestruck maiden for all appearances.
She had felt so restless and useless the past few weeks. Her injured leg had taken longer than expected to heal, and while she was grateful for Somnus’s offer to heal in the protection and sanctuary of the Dawn Court, she had felt the need to leave, the urge to explore this strange land she had literally fallen into through the flashing green portal of her home world, the Rift. And so she had set out on her own, despite the wisdom and safety provided in staying put and allowing herself to fully heal. She had not ventured off in a particular direction or with a plan; she went where the wind smelled nice on the breeze, and followed the path that she thought would lead her to the most adventure. The sun seemed to shine brighter here, harsher, and the air seemed parched, it was a land hostile and volatile, and at the same time unchanging. The land had a different beauty than the land of the Dawn Court and she found it captivating.
Her company, however, less so.
She had met him on the border of Solterra (or so he had said, she was not familiar with the borders of Novus yet) and he had offered his knightly services to escort her on a tour through the Day Court safely and she had not thought to ask where the hell he had popped from and why. She had only seen the violet jewel on his brow, gleaming with a hypnotizing glitter in the mid afternoon sunshine. He did not seem particularly bright and so she had agreed readily to his company, assuming he was a Day border guard of some kind. Surely it would not be too difficult to steal the jewel and escape unscathed. It seemed an exciting way to pass the time on this droll, hotter-than-usual afternoon. She kept few mint leaves that caused deep drowsiness in her satchel, she only had to find a romantic spot to laze about in the shade and offer him a refreshing afternoon snack and she would have him snoring like the pig he was.
“I am so very tired. Perhaps we should rest a bit, sir,” she pleaded and fluttered her eyelashes. It was not entirely untruthful; her scarred leg did ache ever so slightly.
He seemed to think about it for a moment, and for the first time, she noticed a gleam of something she had not seen before: cunning. Her trust in her observation that he was a mere muscled dolt of a border guard lessened considerably. “Please,” she urged, reaching out and tugging a strand of his hair playfully. Inwardly, she remained suspicious. Was he not a just Day guard after all? Perhaps a bandit? The canyon did seem like an opportunistic location to ransack and sabotage travelers “Just for a moment.”
“Alright, but just for a moment,” he agreed in an overly assertive voice. “We need to keep moving.” Was it just her imagination, or did she sense a note of panic in his voice? They settled in the shade of an overhanging ledge that created a spacious, shady cavern.
“That’s better,” she said, glancing about and deciding this was the place to do it. This is where she would steal that glittering amethyst from his head. “Are you hungry? You must be, I know I am famished after such a journey.” She used her pathetically weak telekinetic abilities to lift the satchel cover and a few leaves floated out and gently fell to the ground before him. She ate one (a non-drowsy one, of course), and smiled sweetly. He shrugged nonchalantly and ate the rest. Her sweet smile turned smug as his eyelids fluttered drowsily and he staggered uncertainly and then finally dropped to his knees and rolled awkwardly on his side.
“Easier than expected,” she said aloud to herself, feeling quite accomplished. She plucked the jewel and the delicate chains from his brow and tucked them neatly in her satchel, then stepped over him disdainfully. “Better luck next time,” she told him blandly, and then left the shady cavern behind. She did not, however, make it very far, before she realized how deeply she was mistaken about the entire situation.
Five other roguish looking brutes, scarred and ugly, awaited her around the next canyon corner, looking mightily displeased that she had drugged and escaped their fellow “bandit”; for bandits they certainly were. What had they planned to do with her? She did not have much for wealth, nor information on the court she had been residing at for the past two weeks. “I don’t suppose we can work this out amiably, gentlemen?”
One of them spat at her hooves and smiled nastily.
"I suppose not." She narrowed her eyes, pawed some dirt, and grit her teeth for a fight.
isn't it a little late, shouldn't you fly away?
little dove with cigarettes ---
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@Makeda
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