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Warhammer (CH6)
🕑 Added 2024-07-29 20:28:18 +0000 UTCOrthallion is now simply Thalion. Less of a mouthful.
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Thalion insisted, perhaps out of duty or a sense of guilt that they be treated like true highborn children. It made some sense for Beatrice given she was his blood, but for her siblings, it was extremely unusual. Changelings were brought to the high court before, but they were never raised like gentry.
Almost all fae condescended to humans; because of their weak bodies, mayfly lives and inability to access the Source. And yet, as the chancellor’s adopted children, they were treated like royalty. It was difficult to put into words just how much the faeries loathed them for it.
Not that Beatrice disliked their lessons with the royal tutors: one of their privileges. Watching the princelings squirm while she answered questions correctly brought her immense satisfaction. Even if the lecturers—no more impartial than the students they taught—sometimes ignored her or pretended otherwise.
In a high tower that rose above the early-afternoon forest, Beatrice’s gaze flitted about the classroom. It’d been years, yet she still found herself awed by the architecture, the sophistication. The walls were lined with shelves of books and endless other educational material, stacked so high they couldn’t be accessed without ladders dozens of feet tall. Above their heads, artificial celestial bodies hung suspended, moving with imperceptible slowness.
Leaning to the side, careful to not dip her hair in her inkwell, Beatrice attracted Eli’s attention. He was seated next to her, chin resting on his palm. “Do you understand this part?” She asked, pointing at a section of chalk-scribbled slate.
Eli’s amber eyes met her emerald ones, his lips quirking upward. “I don’t. You’ll have to explain it to me later.
“Stupid.” She said, snorting. She shoved an elbow into his ribs. “I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.”
They exchanged a few whispers before returning their attention to the tutor at the classroom’s end. Beatrice was glad to see her brother looking fine, having worried when she’d heard he was ill. Frankly, Elias worried her a lot recently. He’d become withdrawn to the extent she barely saw him outside class. He seemed his usual self when they spoke, and if it hadn’t been for her getting used to the faeries’ subtle ways, she might’ve been fooled.
His behavior was too calculated, like he was making an effort to look normal. Beatrice had no clue what the problem was. She hadn’t asked him outright; he wouldn’t answer her anyway. She suspected Morgaine knew, but their accursed stepmother was silent as the grave. It hurt a little, if she was being honest. She’d always been the person closest to him.
“Something the matter?” An accented voice said suddenly, sounding from behind her.
A frown immediately tugged at Bee’s lips, glancing over her shoulder. It was Maeve. The dragonling looked at her with a weird smile, her glimmering wings draped over her shoulders like a cloak. She was the daughter of a prominent ambassador, hailing from the Kingdom of Air—a mysterious, faraway land, barely mentioned in any books.
Before Beatrice could say a word, she slipped into the seat next to them, her scales reflecting the orange lanternlight. As much as she hated Maeve, Bee had to admit: the bitch was gorgeous.
“What do you want?” Beatrice asked, forcing herself not to sound snappish. If it was at all possible to dodge a confrontation, she’d give it a try.
Maeve grinned, her lips parting to reveal a mouthful of sharp teeth. “I heard you were having trouble. I thought I’d help.”
“It’s alright. You don’t have to.” Beatrice said stiffly. She was already getting a bad feeling.
“No, I insist.” Not waiting for permission, she reached for Beatrice’s quill, sloppily blotting it on a piece of paper. Her wrist hovered over the vellum. “Let me show you.”
Helpless, Bee could only watch the still-wet pen dripping all over her work. She couldn’t wrestle it away from Maeve. She was too strong. There were ranks among faery races, and dragonlings were well-established as being one of the most powerful.
With narrowed eyes, she watched Maeve messily write the answer—surprisingly correct—before laying the quill down. Unneeded, since Bee had just been teasing her brother. Neither of them struggled with the subject.
“You’re not going to thank me?” Maeve asked, fluttering her eyelashes. “I’m really just trying to help, you know.”
Beatrice breathed out slowly. The other shoe was about to drop, but didn’t mean she could be rude, not with everyone looking at them. “Thanks.” She said, forcing the word out.
“You’re welcome.” Maeve said, her voice sickly sweet. She got up and returned to her coterie—Flynn, Elric, Alastor and a few other coattail-passengers. “You can let me know when you’re stuck again.”
For a second, Bee almost believed that was the end of it. That Maeve was just rubbing it in her face, knowing the answer when she herself supposedly didn’t.
Of course, it wasn’t. Out of nowhere, her and Eli’s desk suddenly jolted, causing her inkpot to tumble.
She grabbed toward it instinctively, only succeeding in splattering herself together with their desk. The viscous, black liquid ran everywhere—over her arms, into her lap and all over her new dress. Worst of all, it completely ruined her notes, meticulously compiled over many hours.
Jaw clenching, her gaze went to the giggling faeries behind her. They were enjoying this immensely.
“Oh no! Did you bump your desk? You should’ve been more careful.” Maeve said, her tone one of faux concern. “I’d offer to help you again, but… I’m sure you’d want to clean up after class.”
Neither of the siblings responded to her jibe.
Sighing quietly, Eli started helping Beatrice wipe off as much of the ink as possible. Unfortunately, he only had some rough, brown paper to work with. It wasn’t very absorbent. “Her tail.” He said simply.
Bee nodded, her cheeks prickling from shame. Despite her best efforts, she wasn’t quite able to ignore the sounds of mockery. “I should’ve chased her off.”
“I doubt you could’ve stopped her.” Eli said lamentingly. “If it wasn’t the ink, she’d have tricked you in a different way.”
“Why is this so entertaining for them?” Bee muttered under her breath. “They never seem to tire of messing with us.”
Eli didn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t know either. Since the bulling started, they’d dealt with it as stoically as possible. It was doubtful Alastor and his lackies got much out of their reactions.
Bee glanced toward their tutor, seeing him continue as if nothing had happened. It infuriated her, but at the same time, there was little she could do. Perhaps Thalion would help if she told him, but Beatrice loathed the idea of bringing up something like this.
The rest of the lesson passed uneventfully, though Bee’s discomfort didn’t abate. She could feel them looking in this direction. Looking at her. ‘It’s about what happened last night.’ She realized. ‘Alastor’s getting back at me for meeting his eyes.’
It sounded ridiculous, but it was just he kind of pettiness that was so characteristic of him. Not for the first time, she thanked the gods he wouldn’t be the next king. He had two older brothers—neither without their own imperfections—but far more worthy of the throne.
When class ended, she and her three siblings made their way down the many flights of stairs, carved into the high tower’s outer walls. It had been quite frightening the first few times, but the grey stone stairs were wide enough, and the parapets tall enough, that it was nigh impossible to fall.
Bee found that she even enjoyed the view—the green, red and yellow forest; the cover of low-hanging, shifting cloud and snippets of blue sky. She didn’t even mind the chill of changing seasons. Fortunately, in these lands, it would never reach the iciness of true winter.
“Seems it was your turn today.” Licia said, having come up behind her at some point. She and Belle attended the same lessons, but didn’t share a desk with her and Eli.
Bee sighed. Alastor and the rest had gone down ahead of them. “I have a feeling today’s antics hadn’t come to an end yet.”
“Probably not.” Eli said.
Beatrice glanced at him. Not for the first time, she was struck by how much he looked like their mother. If she were shown a picture of a young Liliana, Bee had no doubt she would’ve looked almost exactly like Eli. It was almost uncanny, like they were twins instead of mother and child.
It might’ve seemed strange, for her to remark on it out of nowhere, but it touched on something she couldn’t get out of her head—Thalion’s attitude toward her brother. Eli received special treatment, more so even than herself. He was never scolded for anything. Whatever he asked for, he got. If he didn’t want to do something—like attending social gatherings or even going to class—he didn’t have to. And it only got more exaggerated over time.
Bee wasn’t jealous. Rather, she’d been afraid for Eli, because she hadn’t understood why it was happening. Now, as he grew up in front of her eyes, resembling Lily more and more, she understood.
High as the tower was, it was a few minutes before they reached the bottom. There, Bee was quickly shaken from her thoughts. Their ‘classmates’ were waiting for them, blocking the way forward. Their smirking faces told her everything she needed to know.
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Eli scanned the highborn children, feeling somewhat amused. If his mental age was that of a thirteen-year-old, the bullying would’ve affected him. Instead, he was mostly curious. Were they really that bored?
“I feel like they don’t want us as friends, Alastor.” Flynn said a moment later, grinning maliciously. He was the most annoying of the lot, which was saying something. One wouldn’t think it, looking at him. His handsome features, golden hair and sun-kissed skin loaned a certain purity to his appearance, but as the saying went, those could be deceiving.
Alastor stared at them quietly, his gaze lingering on Beatrice. His silver hair and eyes, and almost metallic complexion made him look like a divine being. Together with his tall, broad-shouldered figure and immaculate sense of style, it was no surprise he was always the center of attention.
Not for the first time, Eli noticed how odd that was. True, Bee was the mouthiest of the siblings, but he didn’t think that was the reason for Alastor’s fixation. Did this guy actually have a thing for her?
“They’re lord Thalion’s pets.” One of the coattail-passengers said. “It’s given them an inflated sense of self-worth. Otherwise, why turn their noses up at us?”
“That’s funny.” Beatrice said, anger bleeding into her tone. “As if you actually care about what we want. Maybe we’re not interested in sharing your sadistic pastimes.”
Eli saw Maeve wear that signature saccharine smile of hers, staring at Bee with half-lidded, reptilian eyes. If he was being honest, he was weak to the queen-bitch type. This particular one also happened to be an insanely hot dragon-girl. Talk about having questionable tastes, but he couldn’t help it.
“How rude.” She said, twirling a lock of crimson hair around one scaled finger. “Is that how you speak to one of his highness’ retainers? I’d have thought the high-chancellor would’ve raised his daughter to respect royal authority. Though, I suppose your mortal blood rails against such civilities.”
Bee crossed her arms, her lips curling into a sneer. “Why waste your time with this? Don’t you consider us your inferiors? By your own reasoning, you’re just debasing yourselves.”
“It seems you understand the sacrifice his highness makes to associate with you.” Flynn said, stepping closer. “Yet you dare refuse his generosity?”
“Maybe I’m just being considerate of him. I wouldn’t want to tarnish his reputation.” Bee said sardonically.
Flynn’s expression turned threatening. “That’s not the tone of someone being considerate.”
“Why ?” She asked defiantly. “Because you say so?”
The highborn held her gaze before chuckling. He glanced over his shoulder. “I, for one, think her a liar. But what of you, Alastor? I wouldn’t presume to know your thoughts.”
Eli didn’t miss how Alastor’s gaze remained on Beatrice from beginning to end. Part of him was surprised the prince took so much interest in his half-blood sister. At the same time, he saw the appeal. As Thalion and Lily’s daughter, she couldn’t be anything but beautiful. The former was handsome enough to make Legolas look plain, and the latter, despite being a mortal, remained the object of his obsession even after her death.
“If she’s truthful.” Alastor began, having taken some time to consider his words. “Then her worry is unnecessary. I associate with whomever I want.”
Eli fought to keep the amusement off his face. Briefly, he wondered why nobody noticed the prince’s interest, but chalked it up to Bee’s parentage. He doubted anyone besides himself imagined him having feelings for a half-blood.
“Are you expecting me to praise your magnanimity?” Bee asked with sarcasm. “Just last night, I saw you break someone’s arm out of pettiness. What, does me saying that upset you? I assumed you’d be proud of your actions. Otherwise, why do it?”
Before anyone could reply to her, Flynn suddenly laughed. “You’d speak on that drunkard’s behalf? I assure you, he’d not return the favor.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Bee said, looking him dead in the eyes. “Shut your mouth and wait for your turn.”
Flynn's laughter stopped. He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "As I thought. You’ll need to be taught a lesson if you’re to restrain that sharp tongue of yours.” Just as he finished speaking, his hand shot forward, attempting to grab her wrist.
Having kept a close eye on the proceedings, Eli wasn’t surprised. He moved at the same time, his palm colling with Flynn’s wrist, shoving his arm aside.
The highborn’s expression didn’t change, but from the way his pupils dilated, he was obviously enraged. He looked like he was barely restraining himself from lashing out.
“You touched me?” He asked.
Eli didn’t bother replying. He simply put a hand on Bee’s shoulder, shoving her back a step or two. She made a sound of protest, but was likewise ignored.
“Go home.” He said to Licia and Belle. During the confrontation, the latter had given Bee’s sleeve a discouraging tug or two, but when it became clear she wouldn’t back down, had resolved to watch things play out. “And take them with you.”
Licia’s eyes widened. “Don’t be ridiculous! We can’t-…”
“What are you worried about?” He asked, interrupting her. “That I’ll be hurt? What do you think Father would do if that happened?”
All three sisters went quiet. They weren’t stupid. They knew Thalion was extremely protective of him, though they’d never said anything about it. It was something of a sensitive topic, since it involved their late mother.
“’Father’? It truly sickens me, that you dare refer to lord Thalion as such. Even if he permits it, you should know better, you little mongrel. You’re no son of his.”
Flynn’s vitriol was ignored once again. However, Eli did keep an eye on him, just in case he tried something else.
“We are leaving.” Bee said, suddenly grabbing Eli by the ear. “But you’re coming with us.”
He winced, trying to free himself, but unable to do so. “Ouch! What are you doing? Let me go!”
“Belle. Licia.”
After exchanging surprised looks, the twins heeded Beatrice’s unspoken order. Making a quick retreat, they glanced behind them, worried they’d be followed. That didn’t happen. Flynn did send a glance Alastor’s way as if asking permission, but received none.
Unable to extricate himself without tearing his own ear off, Eli could only be manhandled. Though, on his way out of the grassy clearing surrounding the tower, he noticed a familiar figure looking in their direction. She sat on a carved stone bench under a tree, her silver hair cascading over her snowy shoulders like liquid metal.
‘Gwynneth.’ He thought, immediately recognizing Alastor’s younger sister. He’d seen her in class for once—her attendance was even more irregular than his—but had forgotten about her during their quarrel.
He felt his cheeks warming up, unable to stop himself from feeling self-conscious. She was as impossibly beautiful as the first time he’d met her. He’d almost asked her if she was betrothed then, out of pure instinct. Fortunately, he’d exercised self-control over his teenage body, but every time he saw her, he couldn’t help but be reminded of it.
‘Get a grip.’ He thought, forcing himself to look away. ‘You barely even know her. You probably wouldn’t like her if you did.’ He knew whatever crush or infatuation he had was superficial. At his age, it would be weird if he didn’t have some kind of reaction—doubly so, given her appearance.
Following the stone path down the hill, they were soon out of everyone’s sight. “What were you thinking?” Beatrice hissed, giving his ear another tug before letting go.
“That I cared about you? That I didn’t want them to humiliate you further?” Eli said, rubbing the side of his head. He understood her concern, but at the same time, he didn’t appreciate her acting like he was the problem.
Bee clenched her jaw. She stared at him before letting out a slow breath. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just-… you know fighting won’t help. They were already looking for an excuse to escalate things. You almost gave them one.”
“I just sat through a five-hour lecture. I’m not listening to another one.” He said dismissively, making his way to where their horses roamed. He wasn’t much of an animal-lover, but he had to admit, these were incredible—as intelligent as they were beautiful. Sometimes, he even felt they could understand him.
“Jacoby.” He said. A rust-brown mare soon separated from the rest, plodding in his direction.
After the night he had, he found his patience to be terribly thin. Usually, he’d talk those assholes down instead of being aggressive, but he wasn’t feeling like himself. He still felt irritation buzzing in his chest, urging him to continue his argument with Beatrice.
He couldn’t wait to hit the training grounds—it was the only way he’d calm down.
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