melek_taus: (charming)

[community profile] writers_muses 140.3 Butterflies

([personal profile] melek_taus Apr. 7th, 2017 11:38 am)
"The flesh of the Earth, all worn away, thin.
The seconds stone cold in a moment gone dim.
A plunge into Darkness and Vanity’s grasp
Where faces haunt mirrors trapped in by the past."
-' Butterflies' by the Eden House

(Events occurring after this thread)

Now attired properly as a royal lady of the Unseelie Court, Melek Taus watched Amarante slip through a doorway within the hall of mirrors. The black pearls and diamonds on her draped gown wrapped her form, put into place with articulate hands and attention to detail. She was, no longer a doll made up into something she was not to be broken from her crysalis, transformed once agian into a dark butterfly.

Even at the last she managed to give him a coquettish glance, her face still flushed, her body still taut, nipples erect. By her scent, he knew she had not been unaffected by what had passsed between them.

To his mind, Amarante was talented, but there were just some things that even the best actors and actresses could not feign. He was uncertain that he would see her this night as he bade her to do. The Grigori did not care. She had alerted him to the trap of the Seelie and their infinite plots woven in the pretense of ultimate good that far too many had been taken in by over many millennia.

He gave no indication that he knew that he and Amarante had been accutely observed not only by Faelyn, Jocelyn and her consort, but by their enemies. He straightened his garments once more, and looked unpreterbed as he reached the door. He would stay away from the royal family for a time.

So the Seelie and their conspirators meant to entrap him and take the rest, he mused. They would have to be far more duplicitous than they had been in the past. In spite of Seelie attempts at deception, the message that Amarante had passed to him through each touch, each gaze, each kiss and sigh had been received. Hers was a singular talent in that regard that few, human or Fae possesed.

Now they would play out the larger game.

Muse Melek Taus / The Peacock Angel
Fandom: Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 362
Crossposted to [community profile] writers_muses
sunandshadows: (thinking B+W)

From: [personal profile] sunandshadows

Amarante didn't have to see a clock to know the time. It was easy enough to see the light of the moon as it stretched across the floor, telling her the height of that orb in the sky; telling her how late it was becoming.

It was only after she had left his presence, closed the door on the Grigori and gone her way to the Seelie delegation, that the faeling's heart truly began to pound. Had they convinced the enemies of her lady's throne? Would it truly be believed that she and the acting Regent were - and had been - lovers? And in the back of it all - would she truly go to him come nightfall and continue their ploy?

And by the end of the night, would it still be an act between Melek and her?

She was interrupted from her reverie by one of the young Seelie household heads, one of 'the Risen', who was not at all successful at keeping his eyes on her face; but who's eyes kept drifting down to her chest and the thin, featherlight embellished cloth that did nothing to hide how aroused she still was. Still, for all his divided attention, he still managed a good show of conversing with her as he took her aside. There had been a horrible misunderstanding, back in their own land; the person or persons responsible would be taken to task immediately - but to forgive them if she could. In their haste to dress her in beauty that was the Seelie court, it had been somehow overlooked that she was truly a member of the royal family of the Unseelie court. As such, the clothes they had supplied for her before were totally unsuitable. The young lord, his blond hair cascading down his collar and over his shirt offered her his arm as he requested her company to attend him while he rectified the situation. No expense would be spared for the obviously beloved sister to the queen.

Her suspicions confirmed (they were spying the entire time) Amarante graciously curtsied to such a generous man and his kind offer, and with his attendants in tow they all traveled out of the castle itself and into the thriving city below. And now she was the proud owner of almost a half-dozen saree's, all brilliantly dark and gorgeous; and fair number of lehenga choli's as well. She did not thank the young lord, (never, never thank a fae) however she flirted with him outrageously and offered to try each article on for him to view then twirled about preening for his pleasure as she held his arm and they strolled along. In the end, his fingers got to touch the warm faeling flesh of her back as he tied her choli on as Mara modeled for him. And in the end she came away with a considerably larger, more extensive wardrobe than perhaps he had intended to buy her.

Including the nightgown she wore now as she sat on her bed and stared at the light from the window as it traced across the floor. It was the one thing he insisted on, and for the life of her she couldn't understand why. Far from the expansive, ornate fabrics of her other outfits, it was a simple white, flowing silk nightgown that she wore now. If anything it made her look younger than she was. Younger, more innocent. More Seelie?

A sudden knock on her door broke her out of her thoughts, and before she could answer the door opened andin a rush she was basically handed a sealed missive, had a cloak thrown over her shoulders, and sent off on a mission to deliver a note.

To the acting Regent.

So barefooted, with a dark cloak covering her shoulders and it's furred hood hiding her hair, the faeling found herself sneaking down the hallway to finally stand before Melek's heavy, barred door. Tentatively she reached forward and knocked lightly at the wood.
sunandshadows: (Innocent really)

From: [personal profile] sunandshadows

Silently she took in his words, Mara's eyes large as she held her goblet in both hands and took tiny, intermittent sips. He had invited her to sit down, and once in the chair she had leaned to the side and folded her knees, slid her feet up onto the chair as well, to hide under her cloak and warm up. As Melek himself had stated, the floor was indeed cold.

The Grigori finished speaking and Mara let the silence fill the room before she spoke again. Her mind was awhirl with plots, and chess-piece-like moves, as she tried to see beyond tonight. Beyond the here and now, to what the best possible outcome could be. Would it be better if they were only only to pretend a feeling that - no. Too many eyes saw too clearly, too many ears were trained to hear any hint of deception. Melek seemed to want her opinion on the matter, and stumbling over her first few sentences, the faeling answered him.

"I truly was desperate to inform you of the trap laid for you. I did not think far beyond. Still, I think we both know that ah. mmm." Her face was hot, so hot. Was it the brandy? It had to be the brandy. Amarante continued "I think it may be a good idea that we continue the ruse, my lord. It would be far easier to play in public if we stay true in private; don't you think?"

His responded in kind, informing her of how he was grateful for her timely words. "We will not hurry things, my dear. It was merely something I felt that needed to be said."

Breathing deeply, she nodded in ascent, and took yet another sip of brandy, before she held her free hand out to him. "Please, this sound silly but... Monsieur I know there is no love involved, though other's may believe it so. Still, where friendship, trust and passion may grow, will it be enough you think? And after this, I would hate to lose the friendship and the trust..." Her words trailed off, and she looked away.

But then he was before her, taking her open hand in his and first kissing the back, then opening her curled fingers to kiss her at the pulse point of the wrist. "Perhaps 'love' is not the word we should use. However, you have always had my respect and trust as well as my friendship. That is not likely to change. Fondness and trust are both things that should not be underestimated - along with honesty, Hmm?"

Honestly, how could she be dishonest when his very kiss sent jolts through her veins, and the nearness of the man made her mouth dry? "Honesty indeed monsieur. There must be that." Silence, silence would be her savior. If he did not ask her questions, she would not have to speak. Ah, but then he commented on that travesty of a gown she'd been forced to wear, and the faeling began to giggle, then to laugh softly.

Finally, emboldened by the brandy (it was gone now, where did it all go?) the faeling sat up. For all their faults, they dressed me in the pure, snowy white of a virgin maiden and sent me to you. It was bought purposefully, for tonight. For here. Why is that, do you think?" Mara soothed her fingers over the silk on her hip, and her look went from winsome to something more serious.

"Monsieur Melek, As an adult, as a woman I do know that you were there in my childhood For all my fears of you, of your uniform, of... you were always the pinnacle of honor. And now, as an adult, I can admit my childhood fears - to a point. But. That is."

Oh this wasn't good at all. He'd said honestly, dammit why couldn't she simply give him honesty? Mara tried once more, wishing for all the world that she had another glass of brandy in hand, rather than this empty brandy sniffer. "I would like to try something, if I may? If you would allow, monsieur? It seems so silly but... may I first that is, would you find it amiss if, ah. Would you allow me to learn you?" Oh that sounded horrible. "May I touch you before we go further?"
sunandshadows: (listening)

From: [personal profile] sunandshadows

Where would she like to start? Mara's mind went blank. To cover her sudden hesitation the woman took one more drink of brandy (for courage? Perhaps) and then rose up from the chair she had been sitting in. Turning away, she set down the brandy goblet as she took a deep breath.

"First of all, monsieur" She was facing him now, her cloak sliding off her shoulders to be draped in the chair she'd just abandoned. He was tall, he was always so tall! And his kurta looked black, for all that she knew it was the deepest, richest of blues. The deep copper and gold embroidery at the collar, down the center of it and on his arms and cuffs simply accented the darkness of the material. The hem too, had the same wide embroidery, as did the cuffs of his loose white pants. There were buttons down the front of him, gold with black pearls. And she knew without even thinking of it that each one was identical, each and every large pearl would be perfect. They made a strange pair, he with his dark beauty, his ornament and adornment. His masculinity and his power. And she, barefooted with her hair loose, and dressed in simple, unadorned white.

"First of all Monsieur" Because propriety. After all, for all her fae blood, she was still French. "What would you have me call you? There are lines that, even here, should not be crossed unless asked, and I would know now what you would allow for me."

Melek would be the easiest he told her. Then he gave her other names he had been known by over the ages, throughout the lands of man and he ended with the name Shaitan "Only I do not like that one." An immediate thought flashed through her mind - never, ever would she even think of that last name for him. Not in jest, not in anger. And then he posed a question for her, asking her the same.

"What would you like me to call you? Mara? Or Meruti, as the kings of the ancient East would refer to their favourite and most trusted? You are to me what your lady Faelyn refers to her friend Hsu, her Anam Cara; for if indeed one of the fallen may choose such a distinction, that would fall at your feet my dear."

For a moment Amarante stood silent, in shock. Not just at the word he chose, but at the rest of the words the Grigori spoke as well. The sheer immensity of the honor and age of time his words conveyed had her stunned. Favourite? Anam Cara? Most trusted? The words he spoke whirled about her mind in unchecked chaos as she blinked at him, then blinked again.

"I" she started, then coughed, and tried again. "To say I am overwhelmed by your words would be an understatement, Melek. I could not hide such a feeling within me if I tried. And I've no answer for you, other than this: I am Amarante, Mara to those close to me. There are very few who are closer still, and if you so choose to call me Meruti - or any other name as you wish - then I shall accept it with all my being. Accepting both the responsibility, and the rewards that come with it."

"And then, as we are using your language and not my own - is there a name other then Melek that you would have me call you? Or, perhaps you can teach me your language and we can find your name together?" She flashed a quick smile.

"May I?" The faeling lifted up her hands, open palmed toward the fallen one. At his nod, she lifted them further, hesitated once more and then began to gently stroke his head, just over his ears. Light, soothing touches with her fingers open to feel his hair as she glided through the strands. "So soft!" Mara's eyes met Melek's for a moment before she continued her exploration. From his hair, down his forehead she traced. Soothing back his eyebrows, Mara's smile grew. Sliding over his cheekbones and a single finger stroking the length of his nose, she caught his eyes and began to giggle, but the giggle faded when Amarante's forefinger stroked the angel's upper lip. So light - so gentle, she caressed first the top from one edge to the other, and then the bottom.

From his lower lip, the faeling spread her fingers wide and trailed a path down Melek's chin, and further down his neck to where it met his jeweled, embroidered collar. "I think that this needs to come off before I can explore further" she whispered up at him.
sunandshadows: (very happy)

From: [personal profile] sunandshadows

Sucking in her breath, Mara didn't realize she was staring until her eyes trailed over his form and her eyes drifted upward to meet his. Coloring immediately, she coughed to cover an embarrassed laugh, and failed. Swooping down, the faeling lifted Melek's kurta, tossing it over to cover her cape in her chair. Then she began where she had left off. His neck, down his chest her fingers trailed. Yes, she traced down over his nipples, but she didn't tease or fixate on them. That was not to say that the faeling was very alert for any movement Melek made, or any noise of his, no matter how quiet. His chest, for all that he had more a runner's physique, had bands of muscles going down that she had never seen before.

Down to the drawstring on his pants her hands wandered. And then it was time for the shoulders and arms, the inside of his elbow, down to his wrists and palms, to the man's very fingers and fingernails. But she didn't suck on his fingers, didn't make any obvious seductive comparison with his finger in her mouth. No, the faeling simply rubbed the palms of his hands, one at a time, against her cheek as Mara lifted her head, closing her eyes and smiling. Trailing a single finger around his body, she then approached the back of the Grigori just as she had his front.

Hmm, that solved one question that she never would have had the courage to ask. He had wings. Wings! Not angelic wings either, no feathers here. They were similar to a bat's wing, but... no. Oh! They were dragon wings! Her in-drawn breath was the only indication of Mara's sudden shock. And then she was feeling them, where the wings met the bones nearly at the spine, rubbing her face against the strong membrane that webbed between his phalanges, oohing and ahh'ing in wonder and delight.

"Oh Melek, this - oh, you are magnificent!" How had she never known this about him? Taking a chance, Amarante stepped in close and wrapped her hands under his wings, around his waist. Pressing herself to his back, Mara laid her face against the skin over his spine and hugged him, held him him close.

As she moved about him once more, her eyes caught sight of one of his windows where the moon was shining through the branches of one of the old olive trees. Olive? Where had she heard something about olives? Oh, were they on that side of the palais? Facing the fallen one, Mara reached up her hands and caressed his cheeks with her fingers, then raised herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "Thank you" she whispered, her mouth less than an inch from his own.

And then before they could go further, she was leaning against Melek once more, hugging him again and holding him close. Accepting him, all that he was. All that she knew and that he had trusted to show her.

And when she pulled away again, there was a twinkle in the faeling's eyes. "You know" And this time she was deliberately drawing lazy circles on his chest with a fingernail. "I heard a snitch of conversation, not more than a few sentences, really. But it had something to do with an old, overgrown garden filled with trees, including olive trees. How would you like to..." And she told him her sudden, impulsive idea, her eyes sparkling with faery mischief.

She ended it with "And if there are no spies, well - it will still be fun, and when was the last time you played games of chance simply to play them? The stakes are enough to intrigue you I hope? Vien, Melek, mon amie, when was the last time you gamed for chance? Smiled, and laughed and played? When was the last time you had fun, Melek? Let tonight be the first in a very long line of fun moments for us two."
Edited Date: 2017-04-15 11:27 am (UTC)
sunandshadows: (wood nymph wild woods)

From: [personal profile] sunandshadows

A few minutes later, had anyone been hidden in the old, deliberately overgrown garden; they would have heard soft feminine laughter and seen Amarante race barefooted in through a rust-latched gate. Her silk nightgown held up above her knees to allow her to run easier, the faeling darted this way and that as she spun and danced, then carefully climbed up one of the ornamental, flowering tree's just to hide within it's scent-laden branches.

Carefully, she watched the gate while concentrating on slowing her breathing. And finally, one moment she was there, the next moment she had disappeared from sight. Just another branch, twisted over the first, with flowers blooming on it's slender branches; the flowers silver in the moon's bright light. And then she waited, and watched until the gate creaked open once more and a man's form filled the area between gateposts.

Find me, she had told the Grigori. Find me and be crowned the winner this night, and you may choose any reward you desire; any reward I will gladly offer and give until the sun rises once more. But if you cannot find me within an hour's time, I shall win and be crowned victor, and my wishes you will carry out for me until dawn's light forces us back to the world of the day.
Edited Date: 2017-04-17 08:36 am (UTC)
sunandshadows: (Sneaky B+W)

From: [personal profile] sunandshadows

From beneath lowered lids, light blue eyes gleamed in satisfaction as she overheard the Fallen One's quiet comments. So close, yet so far. Less than six steps forward, and two to the right and he would be beneath her tree and close enough for her to reach down and ruffle his hair with her fingers.

And it was true what he said, Amarante acknowledged to herself. Her time with the deva's, and her time with certain shape-shifters in her past had honed her playful art into something more lifelike and real, a true camouflage. It was enough to fool the eyes of men, as well as their sense of hearing and smell. But oh, if they were to touch her the deception would fall away. For after all she was only disguised. No nymph was she to have the power to truly turn herself to fern or forest.

He was moving away, further from the reflective pool in the middle of the garden and closer to some of the flowering fruit trees on the far side. As soon as he was out of sight, she counted to five then simply rolled off the branch and fell to the ground, her bare feet hitting the soft grass almost silently. Over moss she crept, daring to creep ever closer to the Grigori's location, biting her lower lip to keep from making a sound.

If Melek heard a giggle behind him and a louder splash of something thrown into the water of the reflective pool, he would be able to return to see the ripples that a small stone made, thrown by a faeling hand. Still, there would be no obvious sign of her in the moonlight.

But where there were several bushes of white lilies shining in the starry night, one bush seemed to have a few more graceful stems and glowing blooms than before. And from her hiding place, kneeling among the flowers, the faeling watched for Melek's return.
Edited Date: 2017-04-18 05:11 am (UTC)
sunandshadows: (giggling)

From: [personal profile] sunandshadows

Once she moved the spell was broken, and in a flash her disguise gone. In Mara's hands were a dozen - no more - lilly blossoms that she'd begun weaving to a turquoise jade vine, already adorned with night-blooming Cereus, Juliet roses, Moonflowers and Saffron Crocus. With a whisper of silk she rose to her feet and snuck slowly up onr the fallen angel. Still, he was ahead of her, Melek hadn't turned his head around yet. And the tree he was under had just the right florets to finish the flower coronet that her fingers were already braiding together.

The grass was soft under the faeling's feet. Here, even in the overgrown and somewhat isolated garden of the palais, though all manner of plantlife was running wild, it had magical, ethereal beauty that was only enhanced by moonlight and shadows. The wild rose bushes, entwined with each other, created a hedge that was alive with heady scent and needle-sharp barbs. These she avoided for now; what she held in her hands - though smaller and more delicate - were far more rare and exquisite.

Her heart was racing, every sense alive and alert. The moon, the warmth of the night; the shadows and silver light; the garden secrets and the man she stalked as she crept on bare feet behind him. Ah, he was turning! Duck or hide? Quick what to do?

Mara chose to laugh and raise her hands up, crowning the Grigori with a living coronet of beautiful flowers.

"Did I not promise to crown you this night, Melek?"
sunandshadows: (very happy)

From: [personal profile] sunandshadows

"No, they are not." Did he win? Did she? Both, she decided to herself; they both won. Fingers reached up, adjusted the crown on Melek's head from where it had been tilting to the side; and as her arm lowered the faeling rested her fingers against the side of his cheek for a moment before she dropped it to her side.

Melek wasn't over-powerful looking; he was more lean with long runner's muscles and yet he held her like she'd been holding the lilies in her hand - easily. "No" Mara agreed with him. "Not the only. And not the first, but most certainly not the last." The tips of her bare toes swept over a patch of high, night-blooming flowers and the faeling impulsively stretched out one foot to try and touch a single petal as the fallen angel carried her back through the garden. Mara giggled, then giggled harder at the look Melek gave her, and flashed him a bright smile.

His crown was slipping again, it gave the Grigori a rakish look, and in retrospect the faeling decided that she liked him that way. It skewed his cultured, suave look and gave him an aura of something a little less civilized and more wild; for all that those were flowers and vines upon his brow.

The gate was left open, the walk back filled attempts at conversation inter-spaced with laughter and lighthearted retorts until once more they were in Melek's room, only steps from where they'd started. And only a few more steps to his bed.
Edited Date: 2017-05-02 07:19 am (UTC)


melek_taus: (Default)

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