Lord on High, Deliver Me

Sirius Revlis · 12-01-2011, 03:57 AM

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Omnomnomnom! Here is the necklace mentioned below, btw >:3 -> 5+

Her call rang, sweet and true, the cry of a Fae creature.

The King heard it, just faintly, from where he perched. Like a great bird of prey the monarch sat on one of the crumbling walls of his kingdom. The skeletal remains of an extension of the castle had been blistered and shredded by foul winter and harsh ocean winds, and his dark form lingered on one of the remaining structures, a stone and mortar line that toppled at roughly a meter and a half tall, at its highest parts. His bearcoat rustled in the whispering breeze that carried her voice to royal ears - Tall, coyote satellites they were, herald of his princely blood that had been marred by wolfish ancestry.

Black lips curled up, a sensual and deadly smile, as the gypsy woman's voice was brought to him by this murmuring wind. Ignoring the other secrets it told, the cunning monarch leapt deftly to his feet and moved into a fast stride.

The mare was waiting, bridled and ready, outside of his chamber, just as he had requested. The slaves had become adequate at such a task, but he check the bridle for security nonetheless. Deeming it suitable, the dark man patted her silver withers brusquely, before striding past the docile herbivore and into the depths of his room.

The Throneroom, deemed for the giant stone chair carved into its depths, had been claimed by the King the instant he had set eyes on it. Few were allowed into its depths, fewer still without his allowance. Only Clover, the coyote girl, had been given such privilege - It was to fulfill her job, and he saw now with a smirk of pleasure that she had. His belongings were dusted and cleaned, set out neatly as they always were; Each smelling just slightly of the sweet herbal fragrances of the golden-haired beauty he had allowed into his most private space. Dark brows furrowed a moment, as that familiar tugging of lust stirred within his cold blood. Clover was not like the gypsy woman, Isabella - He could picture her dark hair, the delicious curves of her body, even now - for one was pure as fresh-fallen snow, and the other a dark and sinful pleasure for any man who could afford her tastes.

The thought provoked him to pause, a moment, before swooping down on the old wooden chest lined up neatly with the side of the room. Pulling the rusted lock open, the monarch rifled through its contents, his dark and brooding scowl remaining until at last creamy fingers found what they sought. With a sinister smile, the King of Thorns pulled out a small leather pouch - The same one that had been given to him by Ezekiel, Aquila of Inferni. Gabrielson had paid him well for the horses he had provided, but it was not the gold therein that Sirius sought - Wicked claws so delicately pinched a shimmering thread of silver, pulling it free of the little bag until at last the ruby pendant dangled free.

It swung slightly, catching the light within its squared gemstone like ripe droplets of thick blood. In all, the necklace was rather humble - The Revlis man had much more extravagant pieces of craftsmanship stored away, emeralds and sapphires and gems of all colors. But for some reason this simple blood-red ruby made him think again of the impetuous Isabella, and so in a decisive action he stashed it away into a pocket hidden in the folds of his thick cloak.

The ride to the border was swift. None of the Family halted him - Perhaps they had heard the stranger calling his name and thought it odd, or ominous. This wild land, harsh and ugly and yet terribly beautiful, held many secrets - Such was the way of Salsola. What the King did was his business alone.

The babbling and hissing of the Pictou river marked the border of the Thistle Kingdom. The mountains had began to send down their frosty breath, leaving many of the smaller sections of the watery vein with a thin layer of ice. Luna's silver hooves crunched tentatively through this surface as Sirius bid her cross, at one of the shallower sections of the stream. From there, it took little effort to locate the woman who had summoned him.

She was dismounted, and he noticed at once that both she and the palomino seemed tired, perhaps fidgety - What Isabella could hide, for she was crafty and surely good at masking her emotions, her steed could not. Narrowed pupils drank in the woman with that age-older hunger, and also a curious, unreadable lightness. He guided Luna slowly towards the woman and allowed the horse to halt a short distance from her. The mare's silvery nostrils flared and she whickered softly, an uneasy sound of greeting to the golden horse that she had met once previously.

Sirius dismounted, silent but for the rustlings of his bearhide cloak. Power lingered about him - It was much harder, almost impossible, to hide it so close to his territory. The scent of power, of his royalty, rolled from his dark pelt. If the Gypsy woman had not guessed him to be a man of standing after their last meeting, then she would be a fool not to do so now, for his brooding arrogance and easy confidence, along with that predatory and primitive aura of danger and power, marked him as a ruler here. "What is this?" Came the dark and sultry purr of the monarch's voice, thrumming like a pleased growl deep within his throat, "It seems I find a jewel on my doorstep. I assumed that not even Halifax's cold grip would hold you for long," Sharp yellow teeth welcomed her, dared her. She would not reject him again - Not if she wished to find solace here. Creamy, surprisingly elegant fingers emerged from beneath his dark coat. They opened to reveal the glittering silvery chain, and the dark ruby gem that dropped from his hand like blood caught on a fine spiderweb. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Isabella. I am an impatient and easily bored man - It is, surely, one of my few flaws. Perhaps you have come to lift my mood?"

Sirius Revlis

Hail the Conqueror Worm

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