Thunder Dome a place like magic

At Cantatis Caverns. For @Andraste.

 

The little exploration with Andraste brought him much pleasure. It was the first time in a long time he felt like he was home, where the woman would assign a male to come with them as a guard, to protect them (as important and sacred as they were) from any rogues or predator or send for aid should an accident occur. It was smart moving in pairs, anyhow. Aiolos had a job, a duty, as it were as the strolled and he took it ad seriously as always. He was alert, fiery gaze darting about, ears swiveling atop his crown. 

They had made it to the Thunder Dome a time ago, traveling in zigzag to it's top to see all the land below. He could see even the Vale from here and in the opposite direction, the blue of the oceanside. They had certainly not expected to find the opening of a cavern above and far less expected what all laid within. 

Aioloa couldn't help the gasp.  It was beautiful- magical. Like so of looking at the land atop a mountain, or the sunset on the sea,  or the sanctuary of the Vale. Yet perhaps, more rare, secluded. Aiolos had never seen anything like this before in his life, to have an entire little forest hidden away within cavern, fitted with creeks and survived by the openings in the ceiling, pouring light down in streams within. 

Its remarkable. He treads lightly, for perhaps if someone found this wonderful place they had claimed it for themselves. Aiolos would, had he not loved the open ocean so.

i thought i posted this yesterday omg-

"Yes,"  the fée breathes, treading once more into this breathing gem within the blustery peak; again resting worn eyes upon the floral'd troves and all the caverns had so unassumingly tucked away.  "There is another such as this, of equal distance to ze south of our vale. Although,"  letting her rabbitsoft paws draw her down the crag-rises,  "perhaps it would be more prudent to forage here, for ze time being."  For while the southerlying Lair was indeed a boon in greengathering, the weariness within argent eyes was significantly put to rest as the duet descended into this newfound seclusion. 

"With ze winters coming ... "  —  they would have to harvest that which might be more beneficial, with the impending influenza that more often than not is brought with the winds of winter. But Andraste shook her marred skull; thoughts errant and ensnared in twain, and only wondered aloud,  "How have you been finding ze Vale, thus far? I should hope that your ailments have since mended?"

Andraste speaks, telling him that there is another cavern like this of equal distance to the Vale but to the south. His russet ears are perked and turned into her direction as he listens though his amber attention is laid out  on the cavern's internals before him. There was another? He would have to see it, that was certain. The pale maiden goes on to say though that with winter coming this place would perhaps be easier accessible to them for foraging. Out from the winter's cold chill, perhaps not only prey lingered here but herbs which would have otherwise died elsewhere. 

His movements are slow yet still he pushes forth on long, ginger legs. She asks then of his former wounds, how he took to their land. The cuts, bruises and bloodied paw pads from endless travel had mended, his health restored with much needed rest and nourishment. 

He turns to her now at his side, head falling to level with her own. I am well, yes... and the Vale as far more beautiful than many places I have seen. I understand why you chose it. He had truly enjoyed his stay thus far, this was certain.

Buzzing and bee-like is the shiver that works through her ravaged spine. A soft scything of phantom fangs at her shoulder —
Did he?
— but Andraste ushers settlement into her figure and a gentled smile upon her lips; turned to the burnished  (not beryl!)  face of Aiolos.  "A gem amongst ze spires, if you will,"  she muses,  "one that I have only had ze opportunity to come across only a few times before. I am glad that ze earths have not gobbled it up."  With an absent-mindedness of one seasoned in profession, she stoops to idly inspect a knotwork of fronds; guesses at its like; and promptly rises with a meager shiver of skull. Not what was needed;
"If my mem'ry serves right — I should hope — you spoke of your time with those named ... Nereids, no?"  A curious look, not without its own drapery of keen modesty, was passed Aiolos' way.  "I once lived upon ze northern coasts for a time, myself, but have not once hear of them. How-ever, may I ask, did you come into their ranks?"

She smiles and was that the faintest quiver he saw rippling out over the scarred back of her spine? She speaks then of the jem which is her home, their home, if even for a little while on his end. 

She dips down, inspecting an herb. No - not what she was looking for. Aiolos knew nothing of plants and their healing properties. Then she asks of the Nereides. He pauses his movements, overlooking her only curious expression. He was not ashamed of their customs, of what he, as a male, was to them. Yet still he had a hard time explaining. They originate not from Teekon. But a place called Themiscyra, a large island. Which would explain having not heard from them on these northern shores. 

I was born in a place called Black Bayou. Our territory was on a dry rise surrounded by very brackish waters all around just off the coast. It was relatively secluded, given the muck you had to go through to get to the borders. A small pack. An incredibly spiteful and unjust one, whose ignorance made them believe the leader was untouchable and the members had no where else to go. He didnt mention his upbringing, why would he? It was a pitiful story and not one he was particularly fond of. He'd never get anywhere if he was known as the basterd child of his birth pack. 

Though the Nereides were not afraid of getting a little wet and when a raiding party left their island and onto the mainland, they found the Bayou and attacked. I was taken as one of their claims, as I was still just a yearling, perfect for training. For molding, for manipulation. 

Aiolos paused their slow pace through the beautiful forestry of the cavern, allowing himself to steal a glance once more at her pink-scarred face for her reaction to this.

Themiscyra;
never before has she heard of such a place. Chimerical consonants; the firebrand continues, waxing prosaic about his birth on a bayou and its secluded sands ... until, of course said Nereids sought to lay waste and take some manner of claim. It was not an unknown thing to her, the taking of captives and the keeping of hostages as political leverage; though her birth haven had not practiced such customs themselves  (perhaps the term was simply reduced to those inanely adamant to treatment),  she had had to study of it all the same; of its machinations, if ever she were meant to unveil as heiress and enter ladyship.

But perhaps what Aiolos speaks of is something entirely different — something not entirely captive, yet allowed no such freedoms as to be trusted without several eyes upon him. She does not know, and so instead inquires,  "What sort of training, might I ask?"  Features ponderous and still, for now.

Training, she asked? Of course, it was as any training amongst pack wolves was it not? Hunters, Healers, Scouts, Warriors... I was trained to guard, to protect, prove my worth by displaying my strengths and of course to understand the ways of the Nereides and our placement under them. 

He pauses in his words, lifting his head to breath deep the forestry around them. Being in a cavern, opening in the ceiling or not, it was misty here, the air damp and cooler as it should in a cavern. As a part of the Vale, Aiolos could come and go as he so pleased. If he were a lesser man he would have taken advantage of it, yet he always found himself returning with a snack from the sea.

As consorts to the Nereides, the highest placement of men is below that to the lowest female. It is a matriarchal pack. I was Hoplite, a guardsman. Though I had some leeway within the lands, I have not yet proven my worth by the Sea and Moon Mothers for breeding rights.

He spins further his tale of upbringing; and as with the bowels of the earth from which these Nereides sprung, so too had she never heard of such hierarchical systems. The consorting, the undertones of unworthiness which she then decides to respond to first, all in favor for what she believes might be his want:

"Were you to stay, should your Nereides not be found,"  Andraste murmurs,  "you would be permitted to bear children within this Court, as I would permit all,"  a quieted breath;
lets lashes fall heavy to cheek at the uneccessary sting; veiled; and prays that the unburnt might only see this as her peace of mind's indulgence in the tranquility of Cantatis. She cannot now allow herself to the weakness of thought; cannot let herself linger within the mem'ry of those pained pleas; the moon that yawned chasm. She has not heard the thrum of his soul—
cannot cannot blame, only simmer again with too-spent shame—
"You must promise to me that you will, of course, seek sure permission,"  tones a tease; trivial trillings to return them both to all realism; however she deigns to speak through a masque.

She passes reddened ivies; moss'd boughs; asks of Aiolos and yearns for the answer, if only to mute the musing agonies within.  "Who are ze Sea and ze Moon Mothers? Are they ze ... presiders of your worth?"

She speaks to him, again, his pale Queen Guide, Confident, Shaman? She says that here, should he not find his unit once again, would be permitted to breed, as all had the ability to do so within these lands. As he had ever known, any female was aloud to breed freely if they so chose and if a male was found worthy to choose, then he would of course as well. Her words brought a subtle smile to his lips. 

Though her gaze falls, cast away to the ground as though to hide the emotion in her pale eyes. He doesnt know what is wrong, though had been intently paying attention (as he did all women) to notice the flicker of pain which came over her. For what for? Olo did not question her it was not his place and even so, had he wanted, she spoke again to break the mold. 

But of course, madame. He takes note to her tease of tone, his ears auburn ears perk, tail taking a moment of sway behind him. If I am so chosen amongst the Court's females. And he would do as commanded. Aiolos had a secret fear in breeding within the Nereides custom. Should he bare a son, it would be culled - tossed as a sacrifice to the Sea. Aiolos couldnt bare the thought of it. If he bred here likely he would not have to worry about that. But would the Nereides take him back if they found out? Would they take him back now, for settling with another group? 

They are our Goddesses, ma'am. He speaks, another smile toying at his lips. He had never known of the Sea and Moon Goddess before, though his time within the Nereides had made him a believer of them. It was the Mother Sea which offered him safe journey onto the mainland and the Moon Mother which guided his prosperous path he now took. Their judgement passes through the High Siren, our Queen, and it is she who tells us who amongst the men has been chosen for breeding rights. It is a great honor to bring life into the new generation of Nereides, even if we cannot play a direct role in our daughters lives. And the sons? Well, there weren't any sons. 

Alas, again, he falls silent. He awaits whatever more questions, whatever curiosity she had for his past. If she wished to know him, this was good, yet perhaps it was only to pass time? He doubted it. Andraste seemed to be made of purer stuff. Aiolos could believe she was honestly interested. It was.... nice.

A nod, given as admission of lifemaking;
and then quiet, as he went on to explain the parts of his lore which, up until this point, were unknown to the godless silver. Still it was not her place in passing a judgment of thought over the traditions of a culture that she herself had only begun to learn of; and so Andraste remains ever-quiet in his telling, simply listening. Then:  "As long as ze father has some manner of bringing up his brood, then I suspect that is better than those who are nigh unto present."  Whether they wished to be, or not  —  mothers included.

A pall falls over the pair; and Undómiel cannot think of any addition to this conversation, for now; curiosities stoppered by the impending lilt of her own shortcomings and self-banishment of such positions. There was not any one thing that she wished to be to her people ... but now is not the time for the delving of such murmurings; those of Andraste, or ...

"Might you tell me of ze rearing of ze daughters of your Nereides?"  she purls instead; turning from whatever earthly examinations and beginning to wend their return to the frostmade spires from these very depths.

Heh.. The sound came from parted creamy lips, a hesitant and small chuckle at the mentioning of the men having a part in their children's lives. He shifted his paws over the cool earth as he looks down on it. A silence falls between them for a moment. She questions him, yet again, and there is a pause in Aiolos before answering as he tries to find a means of explanation. The men dont, really - have a part with the pups, that is. They just did the deed, providing the females with what they needed to create them. Having not been chosen yet for breeding, Aiolos didn't even know if the pups were ever told who their fathers were for that matter. 

Moving furthermore along side her, they turned and made direction off in an arch to what would eventually lead them back out from the cavern's depths. All I know is, once the pups are born and the males are culled, the females are raised into the Nereides tradition as they seem fit. He turned his head, hiding the bit of grimace at the thought. Last year he had favored a Nereides quite a bit though had not been chosen. Perhaps it had been a hidden blessing. 

A lingering silence again as he keeps a slithering low pace at her side, he murmurs to her. Now you see why, to me, you are a Queen.

Culled—
the fée looks to Aiolos with with shorn lips knit with the thinning of disfavor for the lesson he had so taught her of his histories so far. If only he had not uttered an effigy of you are my queen, she might have informed the burnished corsair of how ne'er there would be a male whelp taken beneath such treacherous terms; how each would be cherished, truly and unendingly; regardless of sex or to what family they be birthed into; 
but Andraste halts, suddenly affrighted of ascending through the depths of green.

The Dread must have made both eyes unseeing, for she remains so willfully blinded to the allusion of which her sentinel again entreats  —  one that has been so evident a common thought amongst her own people, time and time again. Though she knows well her heart's own fairness and the sensibilites of her own mind, to be queen is a fear which Andraste has deemed unconquerable; unnatural, with all that she has wrought in past living and further;
still ... if word should e'er reach the Moonspire of a reigning queen within the Sunsgem, it will be from the mouths of her own people;
not the insatiable wish of a devouring conqueror.

"Pray tell,"  breaths thin; chords faint,  "what-ever has kept you ensnared within such beliefs?"

Aiolos would catch the scorn in her gaze, the obvious disfavor of hearing the fact that the male pups were sacrificed. Thown to the seas, in fact. He, himself, had not witnessed it but he knew of it all too well. He thinks, then, that the very thought of it halts her movements and he does do too stop, his head falling as he watches her though a fiery gaze. He understands her shock of it all and feels for her concern. He wants to make her feel better, but he cannot. He doesnt know how. 

It is this title, Queen, which shutters her to a stop? Perhaps it is stories like Aiolos, ones of cruelty and abuse, which made Andraste not want to take up such a role. She did not want to be all mighty before her brethren, did not want to be the voice and first of some god. She wanted only to guide, to help protect, to lead them a sanctuary which they called Courtfall amongst the Vale. 

Perhaps, now,  he had found some bit of understanding in the blemished maiden. 

Then she asks, more, burrowing deeper into a tale which would only wound her heart. Ensnared? He spoke, shaking his head then lightly and offering a small huff once more. No ma'am, I would not say it so much as all that but... Though I definitely cant say I agree with everything the Nereides do, I've no place to question it. So I learned and adapted. And, well, if it weren't for them... He paused, hesitant as he lifted one of his large paws to brush it at the side of his cheek. I feel like I owe them my life, is all. If it weren't for them coming to raid my birth pack, well, who knows what the Leader would have done to me... He kept it vague and yet, offered enough information to allow Andraste to understand why Aiolos had stayed with them and why he continued to try and reunite with them now. It was not so much a love, trust or friendship - it was a debt.

last post from me <3

A life debt, it seemed; perhaps it was what had influenced the prospect that the male himself had no say in the traditions and rites of the saltcoven.

It was much to ruminate on  —  but, at the present, Undómiel drew the pair of them further up and up and up from the great gem of Cantatis, into the frostnipped world above, and chose to simply listen to Aiolos, if he so chose to delve further into the culture he had been smuggled away into.[l

Same. :)

 

The stricken, she listens on to him and in a manner, it was a relief to get some of it off his back, to speak with someone since he had lost Ovid. Aiolos stills then for a moment, ginger ears perked high to his skull. He listens and then, smiles which beams down into the direction of Andraste. For a moment he forgets himself and his still youth pulls through. He bounds forth and pauses to turn back to the silken and scarred white maiden. There is a river ahead. I can catch you something before we head back home. Home. The title slipped from his lips before he could even realize it.