Gabriela/Gideon

[Queen of Hearts]

Gabriela: Alice
Gideon: Jamison


Gabriela:

Like a raven among birds of paradise she was, the ebony clad lady creating eddies and swirls through the gathered celebrants. The only one of her rank not enthroned in gaiety, due to the recent misfortune, she stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb, not only for the sable hue of her attire but for the serious countenance, starkly contrasting to the bright cheerfulness of the incandescent plumages of the other youth. Though a widow twice over, she was of an age with those upon the floor, courting and plotting in equal measure. She had not chosen either, but the recent loss had saddened her greatly. She had been much fond of her lord husband this time, and she would honor the full length of her mourning. Hiding a smirk as a path continued to open up for her once people saw her, all staying out of arms reach as if she had a disease that they could catch. She knew the rumors, the behind closed doors whispers. How could one so young have gone through two marriages? If one looked at the facts, there was no way that she could be even remotely considered at fault. Facts, though, were not usually acknowledged when the gossip is so juicy.

Trudging along the chosen path, she kept her head high, uncowed by the weight of her sorrow and by the whispered accusations. She was required at court for this function, especially with the uncertainty of her future. She didn’t care so much for the trappings of wealth, other than the ability it gave her to collect ancient books and scrolls. She had managed to gather many such treasures over the few years she had been wed. Gabriela simply wanted to preserve the place in the fashion her husband would have wanted it, and she knew that his cousin, the one pushing for the estate would run it to the ground as he had done so many other ventures. She needed to show that she was capable and mentally sound enough to run the lands by herself, as there were no other heirs. So she was an island of calm amidst the frenzy and few spoke to her or did more than politely acknowledge her existence.

The ones that did, though she wished they hadn’t as the few sincere expressions of sympathy cause her composure to weaken, and she ducked her head after one such tender reminiscence, surreptitiously wiping away a tear that had gathered. She stayed in the provided seat for as long as she could stand it, but when they played her late husband’s favorite waltz, she found it necessary to escape the confines of the ballroom, spacious as it might be, and find herself some unperfumed air to breathe. Silently passing through the ranks of jewel toned dresses, avoiding the eyes of their wearers, Gabriela slipped away from the gaiety and glitter and out to the cooler air of the evening. Breathing deeply, she simply stayed still, letting the flush from the press of bodies fade away, her clenched jaw loosening as the tension of being pressed among so many fading. When she was once again calm, she slid her wrap up around her shoulders and stepped forward into the massive gardens.

Choosing the long winding path through, thus avoiding the little hideaways where young lovers tended to gather and find themselves in trouble. Pausing briefly to admire the layout of the rose garden, she glanced over the blending display of colors, highlighted by the moonlight streaming from above. But the nature of the roses was for love and so she moved on, past the other displays, some wild and riotous, some simple and elegant. She simply wandered aimlessly, letting her feet choose the path, the pale hands folded in front of her demurely. As she rounded a curve, she saw a place different from the carefully planned areas through which she had strolled. There was a small pond, the moonlight rippling over the tiny peaks the wind made in the water. A large willow trailed its leaves languidly in the water, somehow managing to look sad and peaceful at the same time.

Sighing softly, Gabriela stepped forward, her eyes glancing to the bench nestled underneath the cover of the branches, almost a cave of solitude , and she stepped silently through the grass, ignoring the dampness of the dew seeping through her light slippers. She perched gently on the bench and stared off into the pond, absently watching the swans swimming within, caressing each other with their long delicate necks. She felt oddly more adrift in this place than she had thought she would without her husband, they had rarely made it to court and she had not realized that amount of protection from the chaos that she had been granted. Sighing softly, she pulled up her knees onto the bench, the longs skirts dropping around the bench as she coiled like she always had when she was upset as a young girl, humming a lullaby to herself quietly.

Gideon:

From functions of state, to those of personal treachery. A gathering of bodies to celebrate youth and love with drinks to lessen inhibitions. How long ago it had been that I once partook of those?

In a strange fog I drifted among the bodies. Towering as I oft' did, but noticed little save for those who were directly inline with my station as lord of de Fantome castle. Seeing the way they flounced about one another in their pompous acts of selfless love. Courting, giggling broodlings that saw only the potential for personal gain through their marriages. Not that I could begrudge them that much.

Still, they enjoyed themselves upon the suffering of another. A woman for whom I had heard little of. Her late husband had been stricken by death, and she left alone to tend to the speculations of cause and gossip. To play the part of grieving wife, strong and noble, when she wanted nothing more than to cry herself to sleep.

For some time, I remind amongst the masses. A silent spectator towards their plumage and awkward advances between one another. Feigning disinterest in the boys flaunting their wealth, whilst the girls flaunted their bodies.

Finally I departed, breaking away from the pack of hormonal wolves until seeing the light of candalabra become replaced by that of moon-rain. For a few moments, I wished I could feel the warmth of summer air, the soft breeze coming up from the south to wash over my skin. But there was only an emptiness within and without.

Light boots meant more for wandering the halls of some cottage home, pressed into the soft earth beneath. Each step bringing with it a change. Shadows blending and banding together around the height of me. Flickers of light suckled upon from all around until I walked not with the silken garments of state, but full plates of thick steal that better suited my place as deathknight.

With silent strides, I moved through the garden, aware of tiny gasps and soft giggles in places where only darkness prevailed. Senses not of human kind showing me what debaucherous actions were being made in those hidey-holes, and again I found myself longing to feel again. Longing to find a smile true upon my lips, rather than the mask of emotion I played at.

Awareness thusly expanded as I neared the garden's extents. A life darkened with loss and grief. Immediately I knew the source, and found the voices within my own mind swelling upwards as one might expect from a lover's loins at the sight of a prospective mate. The demonic cacaphony was near deafening against my own thoughts, though little more than a dull roar in comparison to the other horrors they had visited upon my waking hours.

With quiet stides I approached the willow tree's sagging branches. Gloved fingers reaching out to brush through tender leaves and growths of nature. Watching as they moved around the leather of my gloves, yet offered no solace or peace from what lay within.

"Is it often considered acceptable practice for the lady of the house to escape from her own celebrations in this country?"

Gabriela:

As she hummed that gentle song, one her mother sang to her when Gabriela had nightmares as a child, various images of her dearly departed danced in front o her eyes. The tune was from her mother’s native land, a land far away, and it was of the nature as most children’s rhymes were, one of true love and happily ever after. One crystal tear sparkled in the moonlight as she carefully built by memory, a projection against the hanging leaves in front of her, the image of her deceased lord, not as the dynamic leader that the other borderlanders knew, but the gentle patient man who had given her a wonderful life. “I will not fail you,” she told him softly, then let the image fade as she rested her forehead on her knees. She was so enwrapped in herself that she did not sense in any fashion the gentleman approaching until he spoke softly to her.

Immediately, her head was lifted, her form lithely sliding from the unladylike position on the bench, straightening to her full height, not that it was much and she smoothed her skirts into place, reaching for the ragged edges of her dignity and wrapping them around herself, emulating the dignified carriage of the ladies her senior, rather than the silly flirtatiousness of those of an age with her. They married young out in her lands and she was no exception. The gloved hands brushed at her skirts until she had controlled the emotions, dabbing gently at her cheek with a delicate square of lace and silk. Tucking it away, she folded her hands before her, and glanced briefly up at him and then back to the dew filled grass at her feet.

“I did not hear your arrival, milord,” she said formally, her voice tight, a gentle admonition. A gentleman should have given her enough warning to have composed herself. Now she had been caught acting childlike, a condition that she had tried very hard to prevent. Many of the older ladies at court considered her too young to handle the duties of state that was required of her late husband’s properties. A soft sigh as she nodded to his words and turned to look at the spot where she had drawn her husband’s face in the air moment before. She could only hope that he hadn’t seen her using the magics of her mother’s people. It wasn’t exactly something she wanted known.

“It was either that or disgrace myself in some other horrible fashion.” she said softly to the knight. “I am sure no one minded.” And thought she tried, a note of bitterness slipped into her tone and she winced and took a deep breath, gripping her emotions in an iron fist. “I apologize if my need for solitude has offended you, sir.” She bowed her head slightly, then lifted her eyes to his. Dark chips of obsidian glittering as she regarded him a moment. “But I am sure you did not seek me out to chide me on my manners. “ She pressed her lips together, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side, the ebony waves slipping off her shoulder to wave in the light breeze. “Is there something I can do for you?”

Gideon:

What magics had been sensed, had been a fleeting quavering upon the delicate surface of reality. They were left mostly unnoticed as to source or reason, at least by my full thought and attention.

Upon her in surprise as I had come, her reaction was far more telling than anything I could cleam from a simple scanning of her body. Young as she was, she beheld all the manners of a woman seasoned. Fully blossomed, trained, wisenend to the ways of those in stately attire and station. It was, refreshing.

A soft scrape of metal against kin could be faintly heard over the rustling of leafed branches nearby as I strode a step closer. Hands came behind my back, clasped lightly while cold, steel grey eyes regarded her for long, silent moments.

"Little do I care for the ettiquette of the pompous and arrogant, truth be told. They serve no more purpose than to collect funds and play with each other in diamond studded boxes of sand." My voiced reply was flat, even, without the contempt my words beheld on their own. Easily enough it would have been to use my own form of magics to give the impression of emotional subterfuge. But it was but a waste and an insult to the lady before me.

My attention thusly shifted towards the waters nearby. Studying the way cut of blue-white light crept along each crest and valley of breeze touched surface. Seeing how the subtle changes in direction could completely remake the whole image settled upon the pond.

"I could say that I came to offer my condolences for your late husband. But like much that was said tonight, they would be but empty words." Pausing, collecting thoughts together strewn about the unruly discord of insanity, then turning those depthless eyes back upon the lady. "Thus I will only offer one thing, which may take as you please."

Who was I to play these games with mortal lives? What right had I to plot and scheme beyond the years of man and woman? What little choice did I have?

"As lord of de Fantome castle, I extend my hand in friendship. If ever you are in need of something, whether it simple be council or conscripted service, do not hesitate to ask."

Thus I failed to mention the truth behind generous offering. A closely guarded secret that only a few had ever truly learned. Making her into a pawn. That was my ultimate goal. Not to better my own position within the lords and ladies of the country, but to push beyond the veils of simplistic magics to where gods and devils faught. To finally rid myself of a mantle I had worn far too long.

Such a tale of woe, and I had not yet been able to weep for my own misfortune. What little use tears would have been.

Gabriela:

A soft single nod from the lady to his stated dislike of the pageantry, no other movement from her now except the eyes watching his penetratingly, not flinching from the seeming emptiness within. She listened quietly and totally, her eyes moving over his physique only as he turned to the waters to peruse them a moment. As he spoke again, the obsidian eyes flicked back to his face, her jaw clenching slightly as he referenced the empty condolences of those rare ones who still wished to curry her favor, and one eyebrow lifted slowly as he spoke of an offer. The other than met it in a brief display of astonishment as he extended the friendship of his house to her, a move that as rare as it was unexpected. Swiftly, her countenance was once again under control, the features smoothed into bland politeness.

Gabriela was quiet for a very long time, not wanting to speak in reaction to the surprise and shock. Calm, rational thinking was required here, for it was obvious that there was much behind the offer that she could not fathom. She was no empty headed blossom, like many of the florals who dance within, their only goal the gathering of a husband who would regard her as a jewel and bedeck her with same. She had taken equal share in her husband’s duties in their realm, reading his missives to him when his eyes hurt from the strain, and she ha handled the account books herself as her late lord had been rather useless at numbers. She was aware of her shortcomings though and intrigue was something she rarely had patience for. His had been the calm head to her youth and she called his strength and guidance as she considered her reply to the knight before her.

“A gracious gesture, milord,” she said softly at last, the eyes scanning his expression trying in vain to read something there. “I am sure Los Halcones House will be honored by your offer.” She deliberately used the formal house name instead of answering in the first person. As head of the House, for the moment anyways, she -was- the house and yet, were there to be some sort of ulterior motive for the gesture of friendship, she would still have some distance from the fallout. One hoped anyhow. Her curiosity got the better of her and, though it be impolite, she felt it necessary to ask, “One cannot help but wonder, milord, why it is that you have chosen to extend the offer at this time.” She still searched his face for clues as to his purpose. “It can hardly be expedient, politically, to befriend the Hawks at this juncture.” She was silent then, the mention of the sigil of her house, making her glance away from him to the embroidery upon her bodice.

It was black thread on black silk, for she was, of course, in mourning, but every gown she owned had the design traced upon it somewhere, for her house was proud of it’s namesake, the hunting bird they bred and flew for all the royalty who could afford it, and the main reason, she suspected for the avarice of her brother in laws to claim the ancestral lands. But he would destroy the program she and her lord had carefully planned out in the first few months of their union. She was as certain of that as she was that the gentleman before her had many secrets. Gabriela could almost feel them swirled about him like the metallic armor he wore.

Gideon:

A play. A farce. A constant transition from one ploy to the next. Never a moment to be myself, though that had long ago become nothing more than its own form of personal torture. What I had been lost upon the day I had signed away that thing which made me human.

Pale lids slipped easily over the eyes that saw more than they should. For a moment, darkness was a blessing I would have readily basked within. Yet even then, I could not escape the reality of my personal situation.

"You this a different situation, I would take offense at such a question. But you are right to ask, given the departing of your lord." Pausing, eyes opening again as my view filled with her. Not as she was, standing there, but as something else. A spectral display of twining essences wrapped within the veils of enigmatic magics. Energies swirling in currents of smokey incorporeal tendrils that called out to the voices within.

"There is little secret to the fact that I keep mostly to myself. I have had little use in the past for such alliances or extensions of, formal arrangements. But I will also not deny that something brews within the councils and the clergy. A slow, boiling cesspool of factions garnering strength. Your late husband was perhaps placed well, offering resistance simply by his presence alone."

Metal stirred restlessly about my form as I, too, shifted in position. Moving past the lady and on towards the pond's shore. I found the closer to water I stood, the quiet those screeching howls within my skull became. It was a welcome peace amidst the constant plethora of agonizing dischord which had become my thoughts.

"Now that your husband is no longer amongst the living, a gap has formed for this dark alliance to break through. They know this, and know that while you are a strong person with many ties to great houses and noble kind, you are not strong enough to keep them all at bay."

Finally I turned to glance over my shoulder. The metal plate there upon it only partially obscuring her from my vision. Were I another man in another time, I would have sought to position myself into her chambers to 'ease' her loss.

As it were, she served other uses which went beyond the simple luxuries of the body. She could provide me an understanding of the noble houses. She could provide a way of pushing my own agendas when plied with the appropriate leverage. And all the while, she would remain oblivious to so much.

For a moment, I realize that I do not see her as just an empty-headed courtesan seeking the potential mate. I see her as power. That in itself, garners her sanctuary in the future events that will unfold.

"Normally, I would take care of these matters myself. But, your late husband offered me something when I was younger. Thus, I am compelled to both return the favor to you, and to his house, while saving us both."

Gabriela:

Silently, she listens to him, nodding a few times, another brief expression of surprise and Gabriela found herself wishing that she had been even deeper in her husband’s councils. He had never told her of any sort of conspiracy within the clergy. But then, she thought back, he had been suspicious of them, going so far as to have only local, trusted men be the ones performing the necessary service within their lands. The various richly accoutered figures who at random arrived for ‘spiritual visits’ were just as quickly packed off. She frowned as something occurred to her that she’d never put together before and she spoke softly, more to herself in line with her thoughts, than to the gentleman accompanying her. “He had the entire placed re-blessed by the local clergy after every visit.” A wondering frown as she searched for the significance of this before shaking her head and pushing it aside for another time. Her focus was returned to the speaker as he continued on.

Again with the surprise, he kept startling her with nearly every word he spoke. Her husband was a bulwark against dark forces? After a moment of consideration, she could reluctantly see how this could be so. He had been a simple, earthy man, intelligent but not prone to schemes and the like. Gabriela nodded softly, accepting this truth. It felt right and she reconciled the two images within her mind. His religion was of the earth and nature. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she realized how blind she was to the undercurrents and she looked to the ground, feeling some small shame for her lacks, his next words did not help. Another bitter truth. She was not strong enough to stand in her husband’s place. She could barely handle the insurrection by his brother. She turned herself away from the Lord de Fantome so that the emotions broadcast upon her face would not be inflicted upon another.

Gabriela was determined to be strong and brave but she felt so small and uncertain right now, even before this man had come to rattle her with his harsh truths. Not the she hadn’t had some small suspicion of events, but any illusions she had about things were long gone. A soft bitter chuckle as she noted the irony of that thought. A mistress of illusions, snared in her own creations. Ah well, it was no worse than most other humankind. A deep breath, then a steady voice asked him softly, “Might I ask what it was that my Lord offered?” She regretted the question as soon as she said it, fearing her bluntness would anger him. She realized that she was slightly intimidated by this grave lord and she cursed herself for cowardice, lifted the gloved hand to wipe away at a falling teardrop. “Never mind,” she said softly, “It does not matter.”

A soft nod, her back still to him for fear that he would be able to read her easily with those intense eyes. A brief though crosses her mind, perhaps she should try to seduce him? But just as quickly vanquished. She was hardly the siren type, quite unsophisticated in those matters, beyond the fact that the thought repulsed her. Not he for himself, he was not displeasing to the eye, but she had thoughts only for her dear lord in that fashion and could not imagine any other. Discarding the useless impulse, she spoke softly to him once again, “So. Then, we have an alliance of sorts, against these dark forces. “ A quiet moment for thinking, then she questions again, “What should I do?” Ostensibly, the question was for how to go about helping her new ’friend’ but in it was the echoes of the questions she had been asking herself since she learned of her Lord’s passing.

Gideon:

Indeed, what had it been that the Lord of Hawks had bestowed upon me? What small present could be worth even the remote sliver of loyalty I was offering now?

The question remained unaswered upon her whim as I stepped away from the water's edge and approached where she stood. Her grief a faint echo upon the sullen breeze tenderly grasping at strands of loose, silvery hair.

"Continue to mourn for your Lord. He is worth every tear you shed in the privacy of your own chambers, or stolen moments away such as these. I have known many good men, and he was amongst the best of those."

Something then caught my attention. An errant swaying of shadow that normally would go unnoticed. Long though, had my eyes been used to that shape as it slithered with the winds and gently brushing branches of the willow tree. Its voice joined with those in my own mind, and I all but ignored the outside world in order to better hear it.

Then it was gone, and the Lady and I were again left alone in this place of refuge. A place which brought me to turn full round and completely take in the sight of it. Noticing the way it had been shaped, yet remained natural and without the marring, jagged lines of man's touch.

"Were these better times, milady..." Words left as they were as I strode to her side. A towering figure from a distance, made a giant up close. Still, the metal plates around me hissed softly as I knelt at her side. Hands coming to a knee, head bowed low, I offered then my services as knight and the ploy of friendship that was not just a ploy.

"At the end of tonight's festivities, I will make my leave back to my home. Within a week, you will receive a missive from a trusted messenger, though you may find yourself repulsed by its mere presence. Do not fear it, and know that the message was sent by my hand alone. Upon that parchment will be the beginning of plans to bolster not only your strength, but maintain the stability of your house."

[Queen of Hearts]

Gabriela:

The courtly words with the ring of truth to them caught at Gabriela’s raged self control and the words gave her an odd kind of permission that she had not known she needed. The attitude that she normally received was more along the lines of get over it and move on, and she had been trying and failing to do such. A soft sob of grief escaped and she shook a little, before the tight controls slammed back into place. Later, later when the guests departed and she was alone is her cold and lonely bed. Then and only then could she indulge in her emotions. It was far too dangerous to do so at this juncture, with the enemies swirling around like vultures.

Were these better times.. the thought echoed in her mind and a hundred completions of the thought raced to the fore. Her husband would still be alive? She would have powerful allies? She would be clad in her favorite red instead of black? A soft sigh and a shake of the head, then she stiffened as he approached her, the massive bulk of him causing a slight flinch as she craned her neck up, then blinked as he knelt beside her. Automatically, she reached her hand forward, a light touch upon the bowed head, in silent acceptance of the gesture and the friendship. In for a penny, Gabriela thought and then frowned as she saw something odd. She blinked twice and it was gone. But for a brief moment, she had thought she’d seen an odd silver thread in the distance between them.

Quickly returning her hand to its proper place, entangled within the other’s gloved grasp, she listened quietly to his words, quailing at the thought of a terrifying spectre of a messenger, but she could be brave for her house and so she simply nodded, quelling the fear and committing his words to memory. She felt the stirrings of something new, belatedly realizing that hope moved within her once again and she clenched her nails tightly into her hidden palms, shivering slightly as the wind picked up and teased at her sable locks. She turned to fully face him then, his kneel causing her to only look down slightly into his eyes.

“Thank you, milord. You have given me a precious gift this night.” Not only his friendship, but the new hope, though he could not know that. She even offered him a small smile, at odds with the seriousness of her situation, and then she turned to glance to the house with a small sigh. “But I fear that I will be missed soon and I would not want more rumors to abound. I have enough trouble,” the last muttered softly under her breath at the thought of those rebelling against her shaky rule over the Hawk lands. She could not help one more brief glance at the spot where she had projected her husband’s face and on impulse, recreated the illusion , finding that she trusted the lord here with her to know her secret.



Gideon:

Another change in the weather. Another shifting of sunlight to cast down through scattered clouds and dry away the moisture of spring and bring forth the culling heat of summer. To watch each day passing by with abysmal slowness, knowing that tomorrow will look only fractionally different.

I stood then upon one of many balconies. Grey stone worn down by years of rain, snow, and sun, supporting the weight of all those days long past.

It allowed me that vantage point of seeing the outside world from above. Seeing the sprawl of trees as though they were the big picture and not simply part of something larger than itself.

Something stirred then behind me. A sound like that of scraping bone against wetted granite, brought me to finally turn away from the visceral still-life of reality and back into the darkness that was my home.

Immediately I noticed the source of the sound. A shape of blackness hunched forward. A thin neck supported what could be a head, beaked jaggedly with thin lockes of shadows scraggled about it's crown. Wide, thin shoulders held to dessicated limbs, each ending with clawed digits dragging across the floor of my study.

What it had for legs were equally gaunt, stubby, and a mimicry of human appendages. Yet it could move in ways no human ever could, would find places no living mortal would touch. It served a single purpose and for that, I found it beautiful in its effeciency.

A moment later, I heard it's shrill and foul voice within my thoughts. A mingling of words that followed the constant stream of other tattered screams inside my skull. A simple matter to filter away the other clamoring souls until I knew it from myself. Then it spoke again, knowing that it had my complete attention.

"I have summoned you to deliver a message. The scroll upon my desk there, take it to the mistress of the Hawk House. Deliver it to her personally, and ensure that no other eyes fall upon it. Then, when your task is done, remain in the house as you see best. Watch all that come and go. If she has a reply to send, make your presence known. Otherwise..."

It's huge head bobbed up and down with grossly exaggerated motions. Then quickly those digits groped at the scroll and stuffed the rolled parchment within it's beak, disappearing into the opaque darkness. With a faint shimmering of light breaking through a portion of it's body, the beast leapt at the wall and seemed to collide violently with it, only to a be gone a moment later.

Once more my attention return to the outside world. Cold eyes seeing the life out there for all it was worth. A constant, torturous reminder of what I had given up for this damnable immortality.

Gabriela:

A light breeze teased at the billowing fabric of her nightdress as she opened the tall door in her suite which led to the aptly named ‘Lady’s Garden.” Situated atop the roof of the bathhouse next door, the plants within were all picked and arranged by the Lady of the house. She had redone it completely from the lush perfumed exotics that her predecessor had enjoyed. She had mostly greenery and a small fountain. The only flowers present at the moment were her white star lilies, which had no scent, she disliked heavy perfumes and such. Stepping through the massive glass doors, she breathed in deeply of the night’s air, letting its calmness pervade her soul. One of her ladies scurried out with a robe muttering about indecency and Gabriela sighed softly, accepting the heavier garment, and draping it around her shoulders. Irritatedly, she sent the woman away, and bade them all leaver her alone. She stared at the fountain until she was sure that they had all retired to their own rooms alongside her suite and then relaxed, leaving the robe on the bench.

She hurried over to the door and peered within, just to make sure none were spying on her, then turned to her sanctuary, slowly gliding to the encasing wall, and painstakingly building the image of her passed lord. “Would that I could recreate you in full,” she whispered softly to the illusion, staring at it as if memorizing the face she knew so well. “I wish I had a child of your line,” she said with a sigh, her deepest regret and a cause of the major upheaval in her House. If she were a regent for a child of the blood, there would not be as much strife. Maybe. Her brother in law was an ambitious man with now no checks on his power. She shivered and tried not to consider the possibility that he could be the cause of the untimely demise of his own brother. It was unthinkable. Letting the image fade along with the gloomy thoughts, she quietly listened to the music of the fountain, letting it soothe her spirit, until hearing a scrape of something on the floor and she turned, eyes snapping, ready to berate whichever lady dared bother her.

And there was nothing there. Her skin crawled as she glanced around, standing straight and twirling around swiftly. Nothing. With a shiver, she snatched her robe and wrapped it around her, blinking as a scroll fell onto the ground. Gabriela stared at it a long minute, afraid. At last she gathered up her courage and nudged it with her toe. It didn’t do anything but roll a bit, and she crouched down, gingerly poking at it with a finger. Carefully picking it up, she unrolled it nervously, then forgot about the possible nasty things inside as she digested the words within. The Lady Hawk sat firmly on her rump on the ground of her garden and read in earnest, re-reading a few times until she was sure that she’d understood and then carefully re-rolled it, clutching it to her chest and closing her eyes. This would keep her at the helm. She knew how it was from of course, only one man had promised to deliver her House to her. Curiosity reared its head and she glanced in the direction that his home was located, far from hers, and wondered about the Lord.

A light rain started trickling down from the heavens, causing her musing over the mystifying knight to be interrupted, the lady moving herself indoors, although she left the balcony open to receive the sweet night air. Her rooms could get rather stuffy and she scandalized her nobles at first when she insisted on so much fresh air. As a child, she’d been more out of doors than in, a fact they’d likely also find scandalizing but her mother and father had not been fancy people, living more as first among equals on their lands rather than the simpering courtiers that most were. Draping the sodden robe over a chair, she walked to her fireplace and removed a brick, sliding the missive within and sealing it up, brushing her fingers along it, and the seam where the mortar was loose could no longer bee seen. There was nothing to distinguish it from any other brick thereupon. Gabriela would consider how best to deal with the information once she had slept on it. The flowing nightdress trailed along the floor a bit as she sat on the bed, stretching gently, then pulled her legs up to her chest, and thus fell into slumber. She did not dream that night and woke with the first optimistic morning since she’d been widowed.

After taking care of her morning necessaries, Gabriela found herself at her desk, going through paperwork, mostly the accounts. She was looking for something mentioned in the letter in these old books. Ah, there. The first piece of evidence against her late husband’s brother. It wasn’t much by itself, but it would start the snowball. Affecting a confused look, she rose from the seat, smoothing out the damned burgundy velvet. She hated fabrics that wrinkled if you were doing anything other than lounging all day. She poked her head out of her office, snatching a page who was waiting around for just such an occurrence. “Get me the seneschal.” He took off and she returned to the desk, not having to wait for too long before the man in question appeared. “My Lady,” he said, somewhat coldly. He wasn’t fond of her which was one of the reasons that she’d chosen him to be the one who dug into this. She knew though that he was honest and like or dislike would not keep him from doing his job. “Thank you for coming so quickly, I was going over these books, searching for something unrelated, but I found something that I don’t understand.” She lifted the book to him, putting on the “I’m a dumb girl” look, and showed him where the ledger was off.

Once he had wandered back to his den to “take care of it, my lady”, she slid the mysterious scroll from her pocket and considered it for a long time. Clearing off her desk, she pulled out a piece of parchment. “Your gift was most appreciated. It will be quite useful. She paused a minute and considered. She didn’t have the means that he had so she was trying to make it as cryptic as possible while still conveying her message. “Your generosity will be much in my thoughts. Especially in the evenings when I take my solitary repast in the garden.” Gabriela mused a few moments over it and added one more line. “Your presence would not be unwelcome should you find yourself in the area.” Leaving it unsigned, she stretched it out to let the ink dry, tucking the feathered quill away and pulling a small piece of black wax from another drawer. Once the ink was dry, she rolled it carefully, wrapping a black ribbon around and then she warmed the piece of wax over a candle with a delicate pair of tongs. Pressing the hot was to the paper, she pulled a heavy chain from where it rested under her bodice, the end being of course, her late husband’s signet ring. Pressing the sigil to the wax to create a seal, she then tucked it away and stood with the message in hand. As she turned, there was a…a thing behind her and she froze in fear, the scroll dropping from her lifeless fingers. The thing took a few steps forward and Gabriela shrank back, watching it with wide eyes as it scooped up the newly written message and vanished.

Gideon:

A suffering cry spilled out through the halls of my mind. Echoing agony playing out in a plethora of nightmares plaguing me whilst I sat awake upon my throne. Every face, every gaping maw held stiff in rigor, wailing out their woes at my horrific acts upon their hapless souls.

All at once, my reverie was broken by that familiar scraping of talons across the floor. Eyes coming into focus away from the darkness of lidded waking. Seeing there within the milky white illumination of moonfall from above, where the demon shadow stood. Its taloned digits clasping at a fresh scroll, beaked mouth hanging open and salivating shadow onto the floor.

"You have done well, Josephus. Return to the pools, I will have need for you later."

With those words, the strange demon hopped and hobbled at a wall with surprising speed, before mingling with the rest of darkness spread across the ancient bricks.

Smoothly, I rose from the throne of bones and metal. Armor scratched along itself, aged cracks filling in and once again making the armor whole. From my neck spilled more of that inky black until it swept along the floor in a train of ebony velvet cloak.

Boots thudded with every stride as I pressed forward. Already I was calling forth unto the souls within. A multitude of tortured hisses biting at my thoughts looking for those subtle weaknesses of person. Then they clicked into silence as I pulled upon one of the weaker. One who'd been a aged man, dark and violent and malevolent.

Claws of energy spilled out into the fabrics of space, tearing away at what lay between my castle and the Hawk House. Miles of land suddenly collapsing, forming a gateway of travel that reduced the days of travel to mere seconds. And there I stood outside of her estate, staring up at the multileveled building.

Glancing briefly over my shoulder, I watched as the rip of space between my home and this destination closed itself. The soul spent, its energies used, a single voice silenced amongst the great throng of hundreds still present and tearing at my sanity.

Steel greys pierced the veils of darkness enshrouding the estate. Scouring through every nook and niche until I found Gabriela within her garden. A small body amidst the great flows of others that had passed before her. Undoubtedly, she would not be the last to fill the halls and rooms.

Whilst folding the great distances of land was a feat of immense drain, simply walking through shadow required little more than a second's thought. At the doors I strode, pressing my form through the thin shell that moonlight had created, until I stepped out into her chamber. Footfalls quieted by thick leather soles of boots as I continued forward toward the lady's garden.

"It would seem that I have, yet again, come overly dressed to a meeting with you." A cold voice attempting humor when the hour was late and propriety should have kept me away. Still, the meeting would not be held off simply because she was a lady and scarcely dressed in not but her night clothes.

Gabriela:

Gabriela had barely eaten, her barely touched dinner still sat upon a delicate table off to the side. It would remain there until she let her staff in once more, which she would not do until she felt she could stand their inane babbling and the comments about her being more ghost than woman. She could not chide them, for her pride was too much to be seen actually listening to the servants. She had finished almost all the wine provided though, for it curbed her sadness somewhat and helped her get what little sleep she could find. The last of it was in the glass in her hand, the dark red of the liquid reflected the moonlight as she stared into it absently, before taking another sip. She shivered slightly as a sudden wind whipped at the dark tendrils of hair that flowed down her back. Usually, it was swept up in something elaborate that would suit a lady of her stature, and gave her a mild headache with its weight.

A light step caught the edge of her hearing and she glanced up from the drink, her eyes finding the Lord just as he spoke. The dry humor attempt failed with her as a blush suffused her cheeks at finding his presence mysteriously within her fortress. Words failed her for a moment, she had invited him, but not expected him so soon to accept. Actually, she had half expected him to not visit her at all. After a long moment of surprised silence, she reacted to his words, plastering a polite smile on her face, inclining her head to her guest. “It seems so,” she said at last, the best she could do under the circumstances. Glancing about for her robe, she realized that she had left it within the bedchamber. Behind the knight.

Accept the situation and move on. The voice of her late husband echoed in her memory, one of his favorite admonitions. She took a deep breath and smiled more pleasantly at him, chin tilted up to meet his eyes, determined not to fear. Who was there to see the scandalous meeting but they two? The walls around the garden were high enough that anyone spying would have much difficulty finding a place with stuffiness height that would not reveal them as well. Those that were spying by other means… She thought a minute, and swiftly a blanket illusion covered the garden, simply making it look empty. Now any spies could only see them through her bedroom, which was as safe as the lady could make it.

“A pleasure to have you as guest, milord,” she said to him, calm and poised now. She refrained from chiding him again on his ungentlemanly behavior, for she suspected it would be like shouting at a brick wall. She was a lady in anything she wore and his lack of manners in not withdrawing once he saw that she was not properly clothed, would not prevent her from behaving fitly. “If the lord would prefer, I can retrieve some wine for us to share?” She tilted her head slightly in question. “The one on the table is sadly empty.” If he stepped aside and let her go get another bottle of wine, she could grab a wrap that would make her a little more decent and pull her hair back so that she looked less like a wild barbarian woman. She settled her half glass onto the table and stepped forward and to the side slightly, that he might pass her without being too close.

Gideon:

Foreign was any feeling associated with action or word. Circumstances bore no immediacy of modesty nor any rise of passions. Beautiful as she was, thinly veiled in the silken garment of bed, it did nothing to stir any would-be fire in my loins. There was only the cold nothingness of death within my flesh. That ever constant reminder of my situation roaring within my skull.

Still, while I was unaffected, the lady was very aware. Her illusional magic rousing the spirits within as they sensed and clammored for the sweet taste of magic from her soul. Such voices silenced quickly as I gave but the simple thought of burning those souls for inane uses.

"Unlike other lords of the land, my lady, I do not fill my time with balls and parties to distract me from the truth of life. My nights and days are filled with a constant plotting for devices well beyond the means of most men. Thus, when I received your missive, I was not so consumed with pressing matters that I could not come for a visit."

I watched as she past nearby, the offer of wine ignored. For a moment I wondered if she felt the strange cold that seemed to always ebb forth from me in my truest form. I wondered if she could feel the death rolling from armor and exposed flesh as if it were some breeze of weather come from the mountains to cool a spring night.

Turning away, I stepped closer towards the garden. Senses spreading out to seek the definitive source of magic which veiled it beneath the veneer of emptiness. Through shadows I could see the trick being played, and how none could see inside the room from out beyond the doors.

"It is an easy thing to make a promise, then dismiss it when the time arrives to make good. I have seen many men, knights and lords all, that offered such words as means alone to get within the beds of prospective ladies." I paused a moment, glancing over my shoulder at Gabriela. "Someday I may enlighten you as to the why and how of my current situation, and why I care little if nothing at all, for the pleasure of flesh and wine."

Immediately a thought came unbidden to me. A memory long ago put aside of a place long ahead of this one. A future world of mysterious powers bred forth from nature itself, rather than the pools of Gaia that floated around the entire globe.

So long ago had it been for me. A time when I had been with a woman, had carved her into what necessity bespoke, and brought forth my son into living. My only waning hope of salvation.

Looking now at Gabriela, the similarities were striking. Yet still their were subtle differences. I found myself wondering if perhaps history, present or future, would repeat itself again. Though I had not planned on it, the possibility could never be denied.

"I trust, that from your missive, I am correct in assuming you happened upon the first pieces of evidence?"

[Queen of Hearts]

Gabriela:

Nodding softly to his explanation, she felt somehow rebuked by his words, for she had assumed that he had more pressing duties than his promise of help to her, although she had not assumed that he was idly whiling away the time with revelry. A defense of herself rose to mind but remained unvoiced as she did not want to cause the powerful gentleman to anger. Watching him step forward, the lady was still, waiting for her offer to be accepted or denied, glancing once towards the chamber, then back to him as he looked to her over the broad shoulder underneath his armor. One eyebrow arched at his claim to be immune to wine and…and the other, she flushing slightly as the images that came to mind of harems from stories her mother had told in hushed whispers that her father might not hear. The curiosity rose into her eyes even as the blush darkened her cheeks and she bowed her head slightly so as to not reveal either, simply nodding, then turning away to take the few steps into her chambers.

She left him alone within the plants a few moments while she swiftly knotted her hair into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and wrapped a thick velvet robe around the filmy nightgown, covering herself up decently and then returning quietly to him, offering up her reason for changing with a soft smile. “It can get chilly suddenly.” She found herself mulling over his intimation that some would pretend to be friends only to get into her bed, but she couldn’t fathom anyone getting that close to her. She certainly had no heart left to give to another man who would die on her. Her heart was an ice cold lump at the moment and all she had left was her duty. A duty to which he recalled to her with his question, her chin lifting slightly, more confident now that she felt herself to not be at a disadvantage, properly covered and a lady rather than wild woman.

“I did,” she said softly, a brow arching as the curiosity urged her to ask how he had known or acquired the information. Although, having seem the…whatever…from earlier, she had an inkling of his methods, and discovered that she really didn’t want to know more. She lifted the last half glass of the wine to her hand and sipped at it gently. “The discrepancy was given to the seneschal under the guise of myself not understanding the books, and he took it with him to study further.” A soft chuckle from the ruby lips, “He does not -like- me personally, but I believe that he is honest. My Lord trusted him very much.” She shrugged softly, picking at the black velvet of the robe. “I think his dislike will be overcome by his duty. I suspect that he will be more horrified by my brother in law’s stealing than by being under the rule of a female.” Gabriela shrugged again, eyes lifting to the unfathomable gray ones, searching for his approval in how she had handled the situation. She felt a twinge of guilt for the misdirection, understanding that some people could not handle blatant truth shoved in their faces, but not liking the subterfuge.

Gideon:

So that had been the way of it. Letting another handle the situation. A method I could not fault her for, as often I had employed souls to do as I wish. Even now, standing near her garden and in her chamber, other lives were playing out parts in an ever growing machination I had long ago set into motion.

Turning 'round to face her again, a reflexive thought came to mind. Were it not for her necessity to be better clothed, I wouldn't have pressed the thought aside. Modesty something a kin to breathing for the dead. What did I care of wearing clothing?

"Many men have issues being under women, innuendo not withstanding. Yet that does not change the fact you are in a position of power over this household." Again pausing, collecting a string of thoughts twisted and coiled about the mass of others not my own. Delicately extracting my own mind like pearls within a tangled web of other such jewelery.

"Your brother-in-law most likely thinks that most of your Lord's servants will begin to trickle away from the estate. Over time, this could cripple the resources and the ability to maintain it, thus leaving a broken ruin where currently it thrives. He could insinuate his own household in, under the guise of familial friendship. As I recall, he tried similar with your late husband."

A game of spies. That is what the aristocracy had become. Subterfuge, innuendo, and guile all wrapped around the smiles of polite chatter and mingling laughs in ballrooms.

Still, though, there was the matter of the clergy and their own bids for power. Secret organizations working towards a goal I could not yet see. Were I a man of feeling, such blindness would have me fearful and fretting. As it were, I found it only a mild obstacle to be crossed.

"When your seneschal returns with his information, I will have another messenger waiting. I write down the man's findings and leave the parchment in your garden." Glancing towards it, I wondered at how many eyes would be seeking some form of titilating scandal beyond the high walls of privacy. I wondered how many of them would use any possible bit of gossip to undermine this woman who, by all rights, deserved their ultimate respect.

It made me wonder why I bothered. Why I was thrusting myself into this situation where other lords would seek marriage as a means of cementing their power. It would have been a simple matter of logic for me to propose such an offer. Few would have seen it as anything but a bid for greater wealth.

Looking at the greenery, what few flowers there were, I was reminded of why I played these games. Reminded of the ultimate purpose I was striving for. A slow process of natural law. Dictating through actions changes that were necessary for my beloved humanity to better protect itself against those like myself.

"Before this goes any farther though, I will warn you. People will die. If we continue with these plans to save your house, good men and women will lose their lives. Most will die protecting what you love. Others will die, never knowing what plots they were part of. If any amongst your staff you wish to save, then bid them their leave. Otherwise, tell me now that you will have no further part of this and I will disappear this night and persue this in another way."

Gabriela:

Finding she could only stare within the knight’s eyes for a short amount of time, she looked down, feeling mocked somehow for her determined modesty. Perhaps an automatic defense to the rumors that already began to spread about her husband’s mysterious passing, her brief first marriage brought up as if his illness had to do with her. One could not cause the body to revolt against itself, and none knew of her magic now but this lord beside her in her private gardens. He had been ill before they had wed, the betrothal of two children at birth. Shrugging, she brushed the webs of rumor away from her thoughts. She had a truth to fight the insidious lies her brother in law spread, and she would use it like a sword, bludgeoning everyone in her path if necessary. The only life she cared for in the end was her own now, and the legacy of her Lord Hawk.

The glance lifted to the wall where his visage had so recently been placed as the lord Gideon spoke of the tricks used against her departed husband and a tiny crease of a frown as the lady went back through her memories, siphoning the ones that pertained to the information, now recognizing mysteries for what they were, the puzzling departure of the head cook, the string of apprentices the hawk master had gone through. Her Lord had claimed puzzlement to her, and they had spoken of it at length each time a disappearance had happened. She found herself wondering if he had thought less of her or if he had been just as blind. Concluding that he must have known, for he was not as thick and blind to detail as some would have him, she let a soft sigh of regret that she had been unable to fulfill her duties as a full partner within their marriage. He had been older and perhaps he considered her youth a detriment, still, she had done her best to give him everything he needed. She tried to comfort herself with that, although the specter of her apparent barrenness never ceased to be the fullest reproach to her consideration of duty.

Nodding softly to the dark knight as he spoke of a parchment to be left within her garden, then looking slightly startled as he spoke of the deaths of the people who were involved within this drama, the lady Gabriela began to pace absently back and forth, her mind ticking over his queries. Was the dream of her husband worth the lives of people? After some though, she had to conclude it was not. But the people would likely lose their lives anyway, under the rules of that wastrel, either expiring in a riot against their liege or starving to death when the resources were used to pay his debts. And then there was the clergy that the bastard seemed so thick with, they seemed like they were even worse to the common man. For a moment, the worry and weight of it all threatened to crush her and she bowed her head and sighed softly.

The moment passed though as she heard one of her ladies moving about within the chamber, and the sudden image of their lives under her husband’s brother’s hand horrified her. For they came with the House and lands as well, minor titles, yes, but still nobility and the closest thing she had to real friends. Many of the others were little more than nameless faces to her, a moment of shame accompanying that thought, but brushed aside, she had done and would do the best she could for her people, even the ones who she had never laid eyes on, and thus was the decision made and her chin was lifted once more with certainty. Neither for revenge or out of grief would she fight for her husband’s pride, but out of duty and she nodded to her guest, depositing the forgotten wine glass upon the table once again, delicately sliding onto the bench, unconsciously mimicking a queenly posture. Her voice was steady now that her moment of weakness had passed and she met his eyes resolutely, “I am willing to continue on.” A calm shrug and a nod followed the statement then a question, “And then, once I receive this parchment?”

Gabriela was determined now, she had no more misgivings as to their endeavor. Decision made, she would follow the course now laid by the knight whom she had decided to trust. “And as for your earlier offer, that of this indeterminate ‘someday’ in which you will perhaps acquaint me with your circumstance, and wherefore you became the way you are, I find no better time than the present.” Her voice was just a bit cold now, maybe the effect of almost the full bottle of wine, perhaps her newly found determination coming to the fore, but she fixed him with eyes that held no fear for the moment, only a hard edged curiosity as she had become painfully aware of how little she knew of her reclusive ally, and her look to him was reminiscent to that of mother to recalcitrant child. Or that of a High Lady to one who swore her allegiance.

Gideon:

Such a wash of emotions play upon that pallored face. Delicate features shifting from one thought to the next and so easily they were read along the surface. Beautiful as she was, there was a darkness within her that would frighten most men, and not a few women as well.

My attention shifted towards the gardens, surveying around them. Shadows probing into places my eyes could not see, searching for any interlopers that would divine magic and seek to break through it.

Satisfied, my eyes drew around to where the Lady now sat. Determination painted across her countenance as she stared up at me.

"You will store the parchment, hold it in keeping. It will still take me some time before my forces are fully assembled. But soon after the ranks are completed, I will begin my war against the Clergy."

I neglected mentioning her part in all of this. The war. Her powers of illusion would help disguise my troops from the ragged specters of death they were, into actual soldiers of flesh and blood. Though I doubted her true strength in all of this, the ability to actually manipulate the entirety of my legions, there were ways of increasing her power. Again, though, I had my doubts as to how much of this she would truly participate in freely.

Moving then towards the desk where wine and glasses sat, I looked over the bottle. Fluted glass near the top, with a base pregnantly rounded and full of that bitter-sweet liquid. So long ago it had been since I truly enjoyed the taste of wine, the feel of wine, the lack of inhibitions that filled my mind and loins because of wine.

"So long ago... I was a bit younger than you, when I became lord of my house. My father, the bastard, having killed my mother after I was born and forced me to kill my brother when I was only a few years old. I grew up under his abusive demands, constantly aware of my own mortality. At age twelve, I finally killed him. My own hands bathed in his blood."

Voices within my skull began to awaken with the memories. The most heinous sin, that of patricide, always stirring them from slumber.

"Two years later, I went to the officers academy. I spent nearly the rest of my formative years there, learning the arts of war in ways that my tutors cared not to talk much about. They were afraid of me, and rightfully so. I was nothing more than a boy bustling with the war furies of an abused child. I craved victory and death, reveled in making my instructors hurt every time we had physical practices. I excelled at everything."

Slowly I began to remove a gauntlet of leather and steel. Thongs loosened from buckles, fingers pulled free, then bare, pale skin exposed to the warm air before they tenderly caressed along the neck of wine bottle.

"By twenty-two, I had become a typical lord. Women, war, all of it. I had my castle, my title, and no shortage of accolades pinned to the vest of my uniform. My friend Louis and I were a true team, though. He was the only friend I had. Only one who understood who I was. His death saddened me, drove me deeper into my own mystique of power. It also made me feel terribly, mortal."

Finally I turned away from the desk to look back at her. The gauntlet soonr replaced upon my hand as I stilled the harsh cries within my own thoughts and settled them back into that marginal peace.

"I made a deal with the Devil when I was later killed. My soul for ultimate power. We both made good on our deal. Only, what he neglected to mention was that nearly all of my humanity would be stripped away as the years passed. No more feelings, no more hungers, no more necessity for achieving anything. I had no want for love, for food, for victory. I spent years within my castle, alone, uncaring, unmotivated to accomplish anything."

Glancing towards the gardens, noticing the shimmer of shadow where my messenger waited. Seeing the subtle differences between rock and its form. The jagged beak dipping low as it bowed before my attention, then stiffened and became nothing more than another speck of dust upon the walls.

"Eventually, I came to understand that I have one, last, task. A true death. A means by which I might finally be rid of this facade. So I have been working towards that end. Three centuries of plotting, schemeing, planning, to bring me to this point. And I still have many more centuries to go before this is over."

Gabriela:

The lady nodded softly, considering a safe storage place for the extremely important parchment, absently tucking a few loose strands of the ebon locks behind her ears. She would have to come up with something even safer than the fireplace brick and was vaguely formulating some sort of double blind illusion lock, deciding also to approach the seneschal about the discrepancy after a week should he not produce something definitive, when he began to speak of his youth and the hand stilled and then gently floated down to her lap, where she folded it in the other and listened intently to her guest. Gabriela winced softly as he told her of his childhood, her heart aching maternally for the little boy who he had been, her hand twitching slightly as she started to reach out to him, then quieted the impulse. The widow was well aware that he was not the type one expressed affection to, in any fashion including physical. So she held her hand tightly, knuckles whitening at the grip, eyes closing briefly as he spoke of the death of his father. Perhaps some would have been horrified, even judgmental, for the murder of one’s father was supposed to be a horrendous crime, but Gabriela considered it a meet end to what seemingly was an evil man and she simply nodded, finding it just and continued to listen.

Her eyes were drawn from watching his face as he slowly removed the armored glove containing his hand, the touch of the strong fingers upon the goblet awakening a vague sense of disquiet, harshly stilled by the need to hearken to his dark tale. Her eyes wrenched away from the gentle touch as he looked to her once more, her own obsidian gaze reflecting empathy and care for the mortal life of this man who had seen so many horrors, as well as a small amount of shame for the relative ease and happiness of her own youth. The ostracism by those who mocked her foreign mother, her half-breed blood, and her odd accent that had set her apart so devastatingly at the time was nothing but a pinprick to the kind of pain the man before her had suffered. One eyebrow slowly crept upward as he informed her of what he was now, of his deal with the Devil, her voice echoing in a whisper, his words. “My soul for ultimate power.” Again, her heart ached, for the poor deluded soul who thought that any bargain with the devil would be anything but a terrible idea. She glanced to the ground that she would not shame him with her sympathy and other weak emotions in his cause.

Staring at the tightly clenched hand in her lap for the end of his saga, Gabriela was still and silent, digesting and turning over in her mind what she had learned of the one who stood before her. She felt a small urge to answer his life story with her own, pressing it aside as the facts of her upbringing were hardly mysterious, and the loneliness that she had felt, the only common thread, would only insult to be compared with his own. The things he said swirled in her mind as the young woman tried to fathom the concepts. A true death. Three centuries. Deal with the Devil. A long deep inhalation, using a meditation technique learned at the knee of her mother and Gabriela cleared her mind. The only real question here was if what he told her in any way changed the course upon which she had set herself. The answer, immediate and clear was a negative. Her will was resolute, there would be no turning back, even though she turn into a joyless, miserable husk like her companion. She could not help her own compassion, though she tried to hide it, her eyes lifting once more to him, face a polite mask though the eyes spoke volumes. “Thank you for telling me,” she said simply. She now had a much better idea of the forces that she was dealing with and she was grateful for that much, at least.

[Queen of Hearts]

Gideon:

"You would have learned it later on. Better it be from my own lips, than those of an enemy seeking to garner your favor."

I secured the last few strips of leather from gauntlet to bracers. An intricate network of thongs and buckles that held the pieces in place. They had suffered more carnage than any other thing within my keep, yet still they serviced my needs as no other could.

"I have spared you though, one detail. My name. Not that pompous title of house, nor the given name by my father. But the name which holds a curse upon it. Never seek it out, Gabriela. Never go forth and learn it. It will only bring you a pain you do not wish to bear."

In a strange, emotionless way, I found myself liking her. An odd attachment to her presence that stirred nothing more than a want to continue being within it. She quelled the voices within, kept my thoughts pure in their sense of oneness with myself. A rumbling of noise from the specters of those souls taken by my hand, but nothing more than a brief thunderclap of sound before dying off again.

Turning to completely face her, I strode forward those few steps until I stood before her. A giant of a man I was. Seeing her thus, so small and delicate in comparison, brought forth a deluge of new thoughts that were both troubling, and unwarranted. Old flickers of memories that I had once entertained as a young man. Wants that lingered even in my deathly state, though I had no real want to act upon them.

Smoothly I lowered to a knee, bringing us both eye to eye. Staring then I sought out the stream of her own thoughts. Looking for those little places where the eyes gave away all the secrets a man or woman could ever want to learn.

"I have ultimately made my choices, and paid for them. I have pushed myself into this position, and will pay for it as well. While you serve a purpose to meet out my end, know that I will do what I can to spare you the end results of my wrath. Like many others before you, your name shall be remembered for what you have offered me, and accepted from me. That is the greatest promise I can make, my Lady. The only promise I can make with any weight to it. All else will otherwise turn to dust."

So it is that I seal this pact. Our pieces being moved, being placed upon the board of life. No game, no ability to take something back once things are done. Only forward for her and I. Only onto the next step until all our trickery and subterfuge are played upon. Then will come the time for war.

Gabriela:

“Likely,” she acknowledged his statement as fact. A wise move on his part, and she was glad that she had already demonstrated her skill to him. Now there lay no secrets and their partnership could not be undermined by false rumors and insidious statements. She watched him fasten the hand covering absently, mulling over what he had shared with her still, simply nodding to his request that she not seek out his true cursed name. For now, she would accede but he had made perhaps a misstep in mentioning it to her, for her weakness was her curiosity and one day, when matters were not so pressing, the thought of it would crop up and prod at her until she gave in to the doomed search. She would make no promises in that respect and fortunately he did not ask her to, instead coming to her, causing her to arch her neck uncomfortably until he knelt there, an image of an old queen and her chosen paladin flashing through her mind from a tapestry buried within the cavernous basement of the castle in which she had hidden away in her youth, from a time when women were more than child and name bearers but rulers in their own right, and not by mans hand.

Gabriela met the gaze he turned to her, listening to the promises, discomforting the sparse hope may be, it was truly more than she had expected and she nodded, her countenance never wavering from the calm mask, her eyes a sea of warring emotions. Determination to follow through with their quest, anxiety of that far off day when her end would be near, a small amount of affection akin to that of a favorite uncle or teacher for the knight himself, still that empathy for the long ago boy child, guilt, grief. Though he likely would pull away, the delicate hand reached out to place itself upon his brow, this time the echoing of the tapestry, its story lost in the annals of time, was deliberate, the move felt right somehow and she looked into his eyes a long moment. Then, heavy with the chaos of emotions, the lids lowered to shut out his stare.

In that silence, came a resonate pounding upon the chamber door, and the eyes flashed open again, head turning to regard the sound, rage and fear burning away the chaff of weaker emotions. With the swiftness of thought, her robe was covered over by the appearance of the required inky robes of the widow, obscuring the burgundy velvet. She pulled her hand from the kneeling knight, sliding sideways to rise from the bench, taking a step forward, and then a wall sprang up between them, running the width of the garden. From his side, it was invisible but for a slight shimmer, static like where the mask covered the garden. On her side, it was a mirror of the hidden section, opaque and omitting only he. Gabriela crosses her arms over her chest, not bothering to hide her furious stare as one of her ladies rushed in, babbling apologies to her mistress.

Letting the woman grovel until Gabriela heard that her rude visitor was in fact the seneschal, she halted the stream of apology with a curt, “Enough.” She calmly turned and found a chair from the forgotten dinner table and set it up just in front of the illusory wall, settling herself as she spoke again to the girl, her tone diamond hard. “Send him in.” Composed now, she waited until the man came in, arms full of parchment and some bound books. Arching a brow, she nodded to him. He spoke in a low voice, glancing around nervously, causing no small amusement to the lady who hid a scandal behind her. “Lady Gabriela,” his tone, for the very first time, held the respect due her station and she noted the irony even as he continued on. “The error? From earlier?” He placed the heap of things on the ground, pulling out the things which she had brought to his attention. “Right here.” He pointed it out. “You see it leads to a multitude of other discrepancies, and using the status sheet I’ve compiled here, you can see that someone has been siphoning profit without knowledge, and here…” He produced another scroll from the pile. “Is where they’re tucked into various other things, mostly things that were later added to charity gifts.” Gabriela frowned. “Charity ?” Her Lord had never gifted for charity, he had taken care of his people by providing them with work, feeling the handing out of money for free was an insult but something nagged at the edge of her mind, brought to the fore when she heard him mention her brother in law’s name. “Excuse me?” She said, irked at having missed what he said. He graciously repeated for her, “The Lord, may he rest in peace, entrusted the handling of the clergy to his brother, and the excess goods were given to them on missions of help for the poor. But, “ he leaned forward and whispered, “those goods NEVER existed.”

Gideon:

Of her hand, I felt nothing. It was nothing more than a trembling thought that flickered through my mind as the voices of the damned told me of the pressure, the warmth, the softness.

Then the knock. It roused me from my knealing position as the wall slammed across. I could see the magics at work, the intricate weaving of reality that brought forth the illusion. Were I to try and touch it, no doubt my hand would pass through the side I was on. But I was nothing more than a ghost, watching the meeting between the Lady and her seneschal.

Much of the information I already knew. But certain details had gone missing. Those being the trade of goods that did not exist, to the clergy who had never dispersed them. It meant that whatever the clergy did have, was a stockpile for something greater.

Turning slightly, I took notice of something beyond the walled gardens. Voices crying out in my skull with ever increasing fervor and volume. A shattering cacaphony of sound threatening to deafen me entirely. Were it not for my state of being, surely my head would have exploded from the agonies.

Beyond the illusions she had erected, something was watching. Eyes that could pierce through the subtle interplay of reality and magic. A force that, while my own powers were considerable, dwarfed what I was capable of. A hint of disconcertion playing along my stream of thinking, mirrored in the trembles of ghosts that danced in my mind.

I did not think of the clergy. They were but simpering fools at best who could harness only the most mild of holy energies to their aid. Nor did I think it the brother-in-law. Like the clergy, his prowess with magic was morbidly little.

All at once, the voice quieted, no longer able to sense the eyes watching me and the Lady. A few moments longer I stared out into the empty air of night, taking note of a thin line of dawnlight breaking at the horizon. Time had managed to slip away from us, and still there were many more preparations to make.

Nodding towards the shadows where one shivered and shimmied with subtle movements, I looked back towards the Lady still speaking with the man.

Another soul thusly summoned, called upon for its powers. Space tearing open before me as I bridged the wide gap between her bedroom and throne room. A step forward, then the hole within space closed as quietly as it had formed. Only the barest touch upon the fabrics of magic and life to let anyone know that I had moved. But it was enough, I knew, to alert those eyes which had seen us together. Enough for even Gabriela to know that I had left her chamber.

Gabriela:

The lady listened silently as her seneschal compounded the damning evidence to her and she let him ramble on as her mind ticked over the steps to which she must go through now. This would all but eliminate the immediate threat from her late husband’s brother. None would consider following him publicly. Her position was safe. Now, she had to consider the punishment. Exile or death. Gabriela closed her eyes, his wife and children, her heirs, come to think of it, preying upon her mind as the man in front of her repeated his information a third time, the utter lack of response from herself gradually winding him down. He must have followed her line of thought for he produced a document not from the pile and offered it to her. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a statement of exile.” Wearily, she took it from him, unrolling it to read it over, noting the required signatures of the other of her Lord’s court officers and she arched a brow at the seneschal, then shrugged. The results were what mattered.

A sudden flick of something upon the other side of her wall caught her attention and her eyes turned to where the knight had been, the no longer needed illusions covering the garden fading as she slowly allowed them to expire. A wave of tiredness overcame her and she stared into the direction of the departed guests’ castle until the touch of the man left within the garden fell lightly upon her arm and she glanced up to him, eyes bleak with all that she now had to bear. “Tis kinder to the children than his death, my Lady,” he spoke to convince her and after a few moments she nodded though she was uneasy at leaving his sword to her back, metaphorically speaking. “Alright.” She took up the paper, flattening it upon the table and swiftly affixing her signature to it before her mind could be changed. Blowing on the ink to dry it, she handed the order back to him and dismissed him for the night, having one of her ladies help him carry the armful of evidence to his offices for him.

A soft sigh echoed in the garden, once again emptied of all life but her and Gabriela allowed the last illusion to fade, hugging the velvet robe tightly around herself, sparing a moment to stargaze, the peace and constancy of the twinkling dots giving her some measure of calm as she sought her chambers, leaving the doors propped open to let the night air in. Slipping from the robe, Gabriela folded it once again over the chair, with the last of her strength, creating a illusion in the doorway that the chamber was emptied of life. Her tiny form coiled within the massive four post, almost like a child’s would, the black tendrils loosened from their tight constraints splayed across the pillows and she pulled the thick down filled cover over herself and closed her eyes, seeking elusive slumber.