The Riders' Rebellion (Scarsmate and DH)

[Scars Mate]

Rivera mulled over the proposition. It could go spectacularly wrong; but if it went right, it would go spectacularly right.

'I think,' she said carefully, 'we should try it. And I don't mean that lightly!' She rushed on. 'I mean we should think about it. Maybe we can persuade a few of the villagers to help us? I mean, it couldn't hurt. And to meet an elder dragon...' She trailed off in awe. 'Now that would be something.'

Rivera fiddled with her clothes, searching her mind for a plan. 'You got anything?' She looked sideways at Rhinnëa. 'I kinda think we should meet with the head of this town or whatever. I'm surprised they haven't called us in earlier.' To be fair, it was only midday, but it grated Rivera. 'Why would they make us wait? As a show of power? Or forgetfulness?'

[Dark Huntress]

"Probably power," Rhinnëa replied with a roll of her emerald orbs. "Humans being petty. No offense to your human half." She sighed and turned. "We should pay the Duke a visit, I think, you and I. We'll leave a message with Gweir and Lyrea and..." She trailed off and turned to Rivera and frowned. "Should we take Zaq? So ... well, you know, so he doesn't turn into a petulant, over-protective male."

[Scars Mate]

'Perhaps,' Rivera mused. It would be prudent to do so; Zaq would throw a fit, not as angry as the previous one, but a fit all the same. However, he was added manpower, and extra defences- especially where they would only be able to bring minimal weapons without seeming insolent- were always a bonus.

'What do we do? Appear unannounced? Or wait for a letter. If my eyes aren't deceiving me, I think a young boy comes bearing a message,' Rivera stated. It was true; a small blonde boy, no older than six, carried an envelope. He padded into the room shyly, thrusting out the note. Rivera took it, sending the boy off with a benevolent smile. Her eyes scanned the words, before handing the note to Rhinnëa.

'We have been summoned,' she said sarcastically, a hint of a sigh in her voice.

[Dark Huntress]

Rhinnëa chuckled musically. "How providential," she replied drily and beckoned Zaq over to them. "His Grace has kindle requested our presence to declare our intentions and expectations. Would you be so kind as to escort us and thus spare us your inevitable tirade should we leave you?" Her eyebrows tilted innocently.

Zaq rolled his eyes, "Don't be that per-er-elf."

Rhinnëa grinned then strode away as Zaq attached himself to Rivera's side, a few feet behind the elf.

[Scars Mate]

Rivera smiled awkwardly, rolling her eyes.

'Don't lie. You so would get upset,' she countered as her friend sauntered away. 'So we have to dress formally?' Suddenly a wave of anxiousness came over her. 'I literally have no nice clothes, thanks to our wonderful elf friends.' She huffed, leaning forward to grab the letter. Eyes scanning the print, the crease between her eyes deepened. 'Yep. Almost certainly formal. Great.' She set the letter back down, tapping her fingers irregularly on the work top. She suddenly had a funny thought. 'Are we leaving Eyulf with the girls?'

[Dark Huntress]

Zaq chuckled. "What a fun afternoon is in store for the werewolf," his voice was pure smug amusement as he slipped his hand around Rivera's and followed Rhinnëa to the keep, which was placed in the interior of the town.

The castle was impressive, much more so than the rest of the town. It wasn't overly large but it was well-built and surrounded by a very serviceable appearing wall and a sinister, black-watered moat. Rhinnëa raised an eyebrow as the drawbridge began to lower. "Whew," she made a relieved sound. "I thought we were going to gave to swim through...that." She beckoned to the the dark substance in the trenches. "Whatever that may be."

They were met by a courtier and led through stone corridors lined with torches and tapestries. Eventually they were led into a modestly sized and tastefully decorated room Whig appeared to be used for conferences or councils. Rhinnëa rolled her eyes: the man was a Duke, not a king.

[Scars Mate]

Rivera fiddled with the hem of her shirt, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Zaq was still dutifully by her side, and Rhinnëa stood little more than an arm's reach from her. How well equipped we are, she thought, sour.

The Duke kept them waiting; yet another display of power, Rivera supposed. Rude, she decided. No, scared. It figured; the only way they had the upper hand over the motley group of magical beings was that this was not their home. They were at a distinct, although not physical, disadvantage.

When their Duke arrived, dressed in richly coloured but tatty clothes, Rivera was distinctly unimpressed. He was short, stumpy and rotund, with chubby cheeks and eyes set far apart. He exuded nothing but a reek that could only have come from not washing. He seemed kind, though; his cheeks were made for smiling, and he clearly had a family, judging by his age and ring the fourth finger of his left hand.

'Welcome,' he beamed. 'I am sorry for keeping you waiting.' Unlikely, snorted Rivera. 'I hope you weren't in want of anything?' He addressed all three of them.

[Dark Huntress]

"Nothing at all," Rhinnëa replied in her most diplomatic voice, which was full of silk disguised steel. She ignored the amused twitch of Zaq's lips in reply. "We've come to you, your Grace, for a ... delicate purpose. To dethrone the King."

Her voice rang musically across the hall for moments as it bounced off the stone walls and rafters above. The Duke stared at her for several moments, then laughed. He had a strange laugh, breathless and wheezing. Rhinnëa gave him her most irritated look and he regained some semblance of composure.

"I'm very sorry," he wheezed, wiping at his teary eyes. "I - thought you said you were going to dethrone the King."

"We are," Rhinnëa growled.

"Of course you are," the Duke replied, reclined and sighing, "I suppose you want some sort of assistance."

"We did, until we saw the size of your town. No great army can be risen here, obviously, so we ask only for you to ask your men for volunteers. If, by some miracle, there are many volunteers, I respectfully ask you to choose those you can spare to assist us and to remember that this is for the good of Algaesia and yourself, your Grace." She inclined HR head gracefully and watched him hawkishly as he fiddled with his large marriage band and signet ring in turns.

Eventually, he heaved a gusty sigh. "I suppose this is the least I can," he admitted. "Please, do not concern yourselves-I will choose the men today and you can inspect them tomorrow morning. Now, I will send someone to the men for apparel later, as I doubt you have what is needed for tonight. Her Grace has seamstresses above for you ladies, and I'm afraid I must request your younger companions and dragons remain at your residence."

"Thank-you for your hospitality, your Grace," Rhinnëa bowed.slightly and cast inquiring glances at Rivera, silently asking if she had anything to say.

[Scars Mate]

Rivera mimicked Rhinnëa's bow, before chiming her own 'thank you'. Just as the man was leaving, or rather waddling, a thought came to her.

'Oh!' She called, reaching an arm as if to stop him. The Duke turned around again, a somewhat strained smile of his face. He had clearly wanted to leave, but Rivera had denied him that. 'Don't cross us.' Her voice was calm as she said those three words, but a threat lay hidden, albeit thinly veiled. Her eyes met the Duke's steely, but to his credit, he didn't drop his gaze, instead met it with his own indifferent, almost insolent look.

'I wouldn't dare,' he said solemnly, and that was enough proof for Rivera. She nodded, and this time it was her dismissing him. She turned around to her companions, smiling brightly.

'Just checking!' She said cheerfully. She led the way from the room, eyes scanning disinterestedly over the tapestries. They showed images of gore and splendour, of violence and peaceful times. Fools, she thought, feeling much older than she was. She wasn't too old to have missed that a seamstress was coming, though, and certainly not grumpy enough to not look forward to a new dress, or at least alterations to a new one.

[Dark Huntress]

Rhinnëa hated the dress. Actually, that was an understatement. She despised it, she loathed it, she - there was no accurate word in the human tongue that quite described the negative feelings she felt towards it. Especially as she ran her fingers down the forest green, paneled bodice and sighed, every inch of her abdomen being pinched by the evil corset that cinched her already small waist in and pressed her not so well endows bosom out in the most lewd sort of way.

The dress was gaudy, in her opinion, creating a strange, unrealistic silhouette with its large sleeves, tiny waist, and full skirts held out with atrocious amounts of undergarments and hoops. She could clothe a small village with the fabric of this ridiculous thing. Shed hated the dress all afternoon as she and Rivera had been poked and prodded and goaded hbu the seamstresses.

And then there was her hair. It wasn't quite right. She'd piled it in a large pile of loose curls on her head and pinned little wings of hair over her ears to disguise them covertly. There was little she could do about her totally elven features, but her hair she could train. But there was something wrong as she frowned and attempted to discover it in her mirror, twisting this way, then that.

Of course, that was when Eyulf poked his head in along with a ridiculous verbal imitation of knocking. He would have to be there to witness her sad moment of vanity. "Ah, great, you're ready. Let's go." Rhinnëa rolled her eyes at his impatient tone then shook her head.

"I'm not. Its not-" she gestured vaguely at her reflection then made an exasperated voice.

"Its impossible for anything to be any more beautiful," Eyulf replied.

"You're just that because you want to go. Now, fix it," she said the last two words with an angry jab of her finger in the direction of her hair and a petulant pout, both of which had Eyulf struggled to contain laughter as he crossed the room and freed a few light locks to frame her long, heart-shaped face. He studied her a long moment before clearing his throat. "Can we go now?" He asked huskily.

She nodded then looked at the floor. "One moment," she said. He heaved a longsuffering sigh and exited the room in a show of great impatience. She rummaged through a saddlebag on the floor and retrieved a locket from which a large glowing white stone hung from a silver chain. A small, sad smile played on her lips as she fastened it around her neck.

Her mother had given it to her to remind her that not only was an elf, but she was a light to this world. A protector. A Savior. Shed given it to her to remind her who she was. Never had Rhinnëa need it before, but when she glanced in the mirror for.what was meant to be the final time, it dawned on her just how much she needed the locket at that moment.

A painful moment passed as she gazed stricken at her reflection, struggling to breathe, when Eyulf burst into the room and locked her in an embrace. She returned it for a moment as she struggled with tears. "I forgot, Eyulf," she sniffled pathetically into his black jacket.

"What?"

She pulled away so her words wouldn't be lost in the tiny space between them. "People are dying and starving and being tortured by the King as I yet speak, yet here I am, worrying about my hair and dress and - I'm supposed.to be their champion, their Savior and I forgot who I was. For the first time in my life, I-I forgot," her lashes fanned across her pale cheeks as she looked at the floor, struggling to gain her composure. Eventually she looked back up. "How did you know I was upset?"

"You were rather like a mental distress beacon," he replied, smiling slightly. She groaned and pulled shamefully away from him. He rolled his eyes and held his arm put, "Now come one. I'd rather get there sooner than later and this is certainly nearing later."

She sheepishly took it and scuttled through the door with some maneuvering of her massive hoops. She gripped his arm a little tighter, "Eyulf, my heart doesn't have enough room for Gweir and Algaesia and you-" guilt clenched her for bringing it up as his body tensed.

"I know," he replied softly, "I promise not to ask you to choose. Not again."

"That's not what I was saying. I was saying that, I can't love you all and I have no choice between you and Algaesia, but I wish for all the world I did. Because I would choose you." Coloring fiercely, she pulled away from him and moved away, ignoring his gaze on her back.