His eyes bulged and he could feel the rage that coursed through him electrify and ignite. Only the calm he forced on himself kept him from turning into the beast and ripping the table asunder. He glared at Claire, then felt the icy blue eyes of Eladrim on his face. "Is this true?" Eladrim asked.
"Now, dear, you don't mean all of that, do you?" Seranfrit coddled, patting Claire's hand.
"I mean it all," Claire answered, finally looking at him. He wanted to kill her.
"Children," Ruthivan said, measuring his patience.
"Take your food to your rooms."
"But father," Celiara whined and was silenced by the glare from under his brows.
"Go. Now."
Ruthivan gripped the sides of the table and forced himself to look at Eladrim. "I had to knock a bout of sense into her, that is all."
"And I'm your prisoner in this house," Claire added.
"You are being kept safe," he said.
"I want out. I want out now."
"Ruthivan, you knew my rule. If Claire was not in agreement with this arrangement, you would have to set her free."
He couldn't contain it, and he felt the change ripple over him. He was the beast, he was beyond any soothing or consoling. He let out a roar in Eladrim's face, his clawed fists clenched. "I will not let you take my family from me. They are mine!"
Eladrim stood calmly, closing his eyes and bowing his head. Suddenly, he exhaled, frost flowing from his mouth and over Ruthivan, freezing him in place. Ruthivan could see out of his prison, he could hear the conversation, but he could not move or fight against the superior magic that held him fast.
Dinner
It had been several days since Claire had talked Ruthivan into birth control, raising their four children, inviting her father and mother over, and faking her flames like mad as she held onto memories long past. It was just unfortunate that in her zeal to lie long enough to break free, Ruthivan had lied about birth control so that he got her pregnant days after Hadriel was born, he kept her parents from coming for days as well, and her hopes of getting outside long enough to contact someone, anyone, to save her were shut down with the discovery of her newest child. She was frantic, she wanted free, but she was drugged and found herself in a foggy haze for a day.
Finally, Ruthivan had made good on his promise. He invited her parents to dinner, knowing that her mother, Seranfrit would be on is side, and knowing that her father, Eladrim, wouldn't be at all the wiser since - in the tent - she couldn't communicate with him in secret. Still, Claire had to do something. She felt stir crazy, like she was drowning, suffocating, being choked by the lies that fell fat from her lips after filling her throat.
She did her cooking, listening to her mother's harpy-like voice crooning over her grandchildren and praising Ruthivan for being such a good father. She kept her head bowed as she worked at the stove. Once dinner was ready, the entire family sat at the table. Eladrim, her father, gave a smile and nod. "This looks delicious," he said. "So, it seems things have been going well here."
'He beats me,' Claire said, not bothering to look at the strangled look of murderous rage on Ruthivan's face as she spoke. 'I want to leave here and he will not let me. I am a prisoner in my own home. I want out. I want to break the bond. I want to be free of this man. If I can't break away, I'm afraid of what I will do to myself. I harbor a hate so deep and full, a hopelessness so complete and total, that I will end my life if I do not get help.'
The table was silent until Desmaren, two and so precocious shouted out, "Let's eat!"
Finally, Ruthivan had made good on his promise. He invited her parents to dinner, knowing that her mother, Seranfrit would be on is side, and knowing that her father, Eladrim, wouldn't be at all the wiser since - in the tent - she couldn't communicate with him in secret. Still, Claire had to do something. She felt stir crazy, like she was drowning, suffocating, being choked by the lies that fell fat from her lips after filling her throat.
She did her cooking, listening to her mother's harpy-like voice crooning over her grandchildren and praising Ruthivan for being such a good father. She kept her head bowed as she worked at the stove. Once dinner was ready, the entire family sat at the table. Eladrim, her father, gave a smile and nod. "This looks delicious," he said. "So, it seems things have been going well here."
'He beats me,' Claire said, not bothering to look at the strangled look of murderous rage on Ruthivan's face as she spoke. 'I want to leave here and he will not let me. I am a prisoner in my own home. I want out. I want to break the bond. I want to be free of this man. If I can't break away, I'm afraid of what I will do to myself. I harbor a hate so deep and full, a hopelessness so complete and total, that I will end my life if I do not get help.'
The table was silent until Desmaren, two and so precocious shouted out, "Let's eat!"
Current Character Description - DAQ I
The Defense Armour Quiritian (DAQ) is a massive automotive armour built by the Research Department of the Tripower Kingdom. DAQ glows a sinister green as it moves around. Nearby this technological pinnacle, the sound of clockwork ticking and moving inside can be heard. The armour itself is new but reminds of the metal-clad knights of old. The sigil of Tripower is set upon the center of the chest. When armed, DAQ wields a similar massive warhammer in its gauntlet.
Deepening Resentment
Claire lay that night in a crushing embrace that held her close to Ruthivan's chest. He had been angry with her yet again, she'd cast a spell on him to bring the worst discomfort and refused to heal him. Still, he held her close to him and heard none of her protests.
She had sworn to get free of the bond that linked them together, swore to get free of him, and as swiftly as she'd breathed the words, he'd reminded her that she was trapped in the house. The ward that surrounded it, tailor tuned to her own frequencies, keeping her prisoner. 'It will be there until you learn your place,' he'd said. 'What does that mean?' she asked, unable to even pull away from him enough to look at him. 'As long as you have to ask, it will be there.'
What could she do? Claire was raising a brood with this... monster. She hated that she felt a clear resentment toward her children as well. They were half of him, her blood and his own were locked in them for eternity - mingled together to never be taken apart. If she did find a way out of this place, did she take them and hope to conquer the twisted racist message he'd hammered into them? Or leave them behind, lost causes to grow into xenophobic hatemongers like the man who was their father?
The final question... getting out of here. Her own father had given her to Ruthivan like cattle without concern over his angry tendencies. If he knew what Ruthivan had done, he would surely free her of the marriage... but she couldn't go tell him. Certainly, Ruthivan wouldn't let her. Unless... she tried to fake everything until he was satisfied in her compliance.
Claire closed her eyes and brought back one of the best memories she had - a picnic behind the cottage - Gilean's face when she brought out the chocolate covered strawberries. She let the warm feelings spread and when she opened her eyes in the darkness of the bedroom, she noticed a faint purple glow coming from her skin. She would hold the memories tightly, her flames would return, and Ruthivan would have to slowly release his grip. When he did, Claire would take her chance.
She had sworn to get free of the bond that linked them together, swore to get free of him, and as swiftly as she'd breathed the words, he'd reminded her that she was trapped in the house. The ward that surrounded it, tailor tuned to her own frequencies, keeping her prisoner. 'It will be there until you learn your place,' he'd said. 'What does that mean?' she asked, unable to even pull away from him enough to look at him. 'As long as you have to ask, it will be there.'
What could she do? Claire was raising a brood with this... monster. She hated that she felt a clear resentment toward her children as well. They were half of him, her blood and his own were locked in them for eternity - mingled together to never be taken apart. If she did find a way out of this place, did she take them and hope to conquer the twisted racist message he'd hammered into them? Or leave them behind, lost causes to grow into xenophobic hatemongers like the man who was their father?
The final question... getting out of here. Her own father had given her to Ruthivan like cattle without concern over his angry tendencies. If he knew what Ruthivan had done, he would surely free her of the marriage... but she couldn't go tell him. Certainly, Ruthivan wouldn't let her. Unless... she tried to fake everything until he was satisfied in her compliance.
Claire closed her eyes and brought back one of the best memories she had - a picnic behind the cottage - Gilean's face when she brought out the chocolate covered strawberries. She let the warm feelings spread and when she opened her eyes in the darkness of the bedroom, she noticed a faint purple glow coming from her skin. She would hold the memories tightly, her flames would return, and Ruthivan would have to slowly release his grip. When he did, Claire would take her chance.
Situation Critical
Enmach sat across from Fenlauch. The gold-skinned being was clad in a loose tunic and breeches, his golden armor stowed neatly in the corner of the room. He stared at Enmach with a patient gaze, his hands folded over his lap. The room had a smell of rose petals and sandalwood from the incense that had long stopped burning. Enmach lowered her gaze, hoping Fenlauch would not immediately disapprove of her request.
Finally, he spoke, leaning forward as he did so. "Enmach, it needs be said that you have become too involved in Sanria's affairs."
"I am her advisor," she said quietly.
"I am aware," the baritone voice said, "but that does not mean she is permitted to call on us whenever the situation seems out of her hands."
"Fenlauch, a woman is in a very volatile relationship, it does have to do with balance."
Fenlauch gave a stare that caused Enmach to swallow and again lower her eyes. "It is personal, Enmach, and that is not why we are here."
"I know, but-"
"I am also aware of your involvement with Orn when he was seeking his mother some time ago." Enmach sank in her seat. "You deliberately circumvented our rules to aid him."
"Fenlauch, I merely-"
"Silence," Fenlauch said. The word was soft, but the power behind it was unmistakable. "You cannot keep pushing to aid them, Enmach. Your emotions have clouded your judgment. If you keep insisting on aiding them at every turn, rather than guiding them, I will have to send you home."
Enmach raised her head suddenly. "But Fenlauch, this woman is in dire need of help."
"Then guide Sanria to find help among the human beings and other assorted citizens of the realms. We are here to observe and push for overarching balance, not invest ourselves in minor affairs."
"Minor aff-"
"Enmach, you have your final warning. Advise, but disengage yourself from this matter. We have few of us as it is here, and there have been rumblings that things have been changing as far as the Gods are concerned. There are greater things we must be watchful over. Sanria will have to find help from another source. Do I make myself clear?"
Enmach stood and bowed her head in polite assent. "Yes, you have been perfectly clear."
"Good. I do not wish to hurt you, Enmach, but sometimes a keen reminder is needed to keep us on our paths."
"Yes, I understand."
"Is that all, then?"
"That is all." "Then be well, and please give Sanria my apologies when you
deliver the news."
Enmach turned and walked from Fenlauch's room. She held her head up, her expression neutral, as she walked down the halls of the castle. She shoved her emotions down as she walked to Sanria's office. It was for the greater good, she reminded herself, and with a still heavy heart, knocked lightly on the door.
Finally, he spoke, leaning forward as he did so. "Enmach, it needs be said that you have become too involved in Sanria's affairs."
"I am her advisor," she said quietly.
"I am aware," the baritone voice said, "but that does not mean she is permitted to call on us whenever the situation seems out of her hands."
"Fenlauch, a woman is in a very volatile relationship, it does have to do with balance."
Fenlauch gave a stare that caused Enmach to swallow and again lower her eyes. "It is personal, Enmach, and that is not why we are here."
"I know, but-"
"I am also aware of your involvement with Orn when he was seeking his mother some time ago." Enmach sank in her seat. "You deliberately circumvented our rules to aid him."
"Fenlauch, I merely-"
"Silence," Fenlauch said. The word was soft, but the power behind it was unmistakable. "You cannot keep pushing to aid them, Enmach. Your emotions have clouded your judgment. If you keep insisting on aiding them at every turn, rather than guiding them, I will have to send you home."
Enmach raised her head suddenly. "But Fenlauch, this woman is in dire need of help."
"Then guide Sanria to find help among the human beings and other assorted citizens of the realms. We are here to observe and push for overarching balance, not invest ourselves in minor affairs."
"Minor aff-"
"Enmach, you have your final warning. Advise, but disengage yourself from this matter. We have few of us as it is here, and there have been rumblings that things have been changing as far as the Gods are concerned. There are greater things we must be watchful over. Sanria will have to find help from another source. Do I make myself clear?"
Enmach stood and bowed her head in polite assent. "Yes, you have been perfectly clear."
"Good. I do not wish to hurt you, Enmach, but sometimes a keen reminder is needed to keep us on our paths."
"Yes, I understand."
"Is that all, then?"
"That is all." "Then be well, and please give Sanria my apologies when you
deliver the news."
Enmach turned and walked from Fenlauch's room. She held her head up, her expression neutral, as she walked down the halls of the castle. She shoved her emotions down as she walked to Sanria's office. It was for the greater good, she reminded herself, and with a still heavy heart, knocked lightly on the door.
Trussing Claire 2/2
He regretted it instantly when he saw the shock cross her features and the distrust flood her eyes. She closed her mouth, her jaw going tight, and tears rolled down her stoic face. It looked as though she was daring him to do it again, defiant.
Ruthivan held his breath for a moment then narrowed his eyes. "Get yourself together," he hissed, holding a finger in her face. "I knew you would do it," she whispered. "It was only a question of when." "Shut up," he spat. "You made me lash out, you and those humans, including the one that took our son." "Whatever we may have had, whatever might have been, it is gone. I will not rest until I have absolved myself of you." "Well," he said with a sneer, "you're going to have a long time to wait, Claire. You are bonded to me and belong with and to me. So straighten yourself up, or I'll straighten you myself."
He walked from the room, slamming the door behind him. He left the living room and paced in the woods beyond. He slammed his fist into a tree, crunching his bones and magically healing them. She made him so hateful and angry... it was her fault. In his mind, the realization that she would never love him filled his senses and drove him mad. He looked skyward and let out a howl of rage. It drifted through the woods to be absorbed by the trees that ruffled their leaves in repeated whispers to dissipate the pity and hate they were forced to absorb.
Ruthivan held his breath for a moment then narrowed his eyes. "Get yourself together," he hissed, holding a finger in her face. "I knew you would do it," she whispered. "It was only a question of when." "Shut up," he spat. "You made me lash out, you and those humans, including the one that took our son." "Whatever we may have had, whatever might have been, it is gone. I will not rest until I have absolved myself of you." "Well," he said with a sneer, "you're going to have a long time to wait, Claire. You are bonded to me and belong with and to me. So straighten yourself up, or I'll straighten you myself."
He walked from the room, slamming the door behind him. He left the living room and paced in the woods beyond. He slammed his fist into a tree, crunching his bones and magically healing them. She made him so hateful and angry... it was her fault. In his mind, the realization that she would never love him filled his senses and drove him mad. He looked skyward and let out a howl of rage. It drifted through the woods to be absorbed by the trees that ruffled their leaves in repeated whispers to dissipate the pity and hate they were forced to absorb.
Trussing Claire 1/2
Ruthivan walked into Celiara's room where all his children had gathered. Three faces looked back at him with an expression of worry. Celiara held Saren and Desmaren at her sides and Ruthivan gave a smile. These were his perfect gems, full blood Espers. He knelt down in front of them and put a hand on Celiara's knee. "I'm sorry you had to see that, children."
"Who were they, father?" Saren asked.
"Humans. They were here to cause trouble. You should always stay away from them."
"But Leanders hoomen," Desmaren said.
"Yes, and she caused trouble."
"But 'Skari loves, um, loves Leanders."
"Unfortunately. But they're gone now, so it's just the three of you until the new baby comes."
"Why is mother sad?" Saren asked quietly.
"Your mother is just... she's not sad."
"You maded her happy?" Desmaren smiled.
"I... will. I'll go do that right away."
Ruthivan stood up and left the children with a quick, "I love you." He walked into the bedroom to find Claire laying on the bed, sobbing. He set his jaw. "Claire, get up," he said, holding his voice in check. "You're making the children upset."
"How could you?" she sobbed as she sat up.
He walked to her side and snatched her to her feet, glaring into her face. He was tired of her self loathing and pity, tired of her never looking at him with any semblance of love, tired of her body with a complete lack of flames - no joy, tired of her moping about. She looked at him now with a glare of contempt, and he drew back and slapped her across the face.
"Who were they, father?" Saren asked.
"Humans. They were here to cause trouble. You should always stay away from them."
"But Leanders hoomen," Desmaren said.
"Yes, and she caused trouble."
"But 'Skari loves, um, loves Leanders."
"Unfortunately. But they're gone now, so it's just the three of you until the new baby comes."
"Why is mother sad?" Saren asked quietly.
"Your mother is just... she's not sad."
"You maded her happy?" Desmaren smiled.
"I... will. I'll go do that right away."
Ruthivan stood up and left the children with a quick, "I love you." He walked into the bedroom to find Claire laying on the bed, sobbing. He set his jaw. "Claire, get up," he said, holding his voice in check. "You're making the children upset."
"How could you?" she sobbed as she sat up.
He walked to her side and snatched her to her feet, glaring into her face. He was tired of her self loathing and pity, tired of her never looking at him with any semblance of love, tired of her body with a complete lack of flames - no joy, tired of her moping about. She looked at him now with a glare of contempt, and he drew back and slapped her across the face.
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