A Court Of Too Many Thoughts

The crowd was bustling with life, with some faking their enjoyment and others lost in the faerie wine and pleasure. The elegant light of the throne room contrasted heavily from the dark corridors of the rest of the mountain. String music and piano drafted through the walls, enticing others to dance.

Most people were dressed in dark and rich colors, contrasting the Queen's stark white gown. Standing beside her throne, the High Lord of the Night Court observed, a lazy grin plastered across his features. He was decorated in tight black pants that matched his lose midnight tunic that exposed the swirls of tattoos across his chest.

Eris only huffed. Only in this world would Rhysand find his way out of this catastrophe. His court was brutish, full of nothing but lesser fae built only for war and rumors of constant torture escaping his land. There was no happiness in the court of darkness.

Eris observed the mingling crowd, paying special attention to his mother from the corner of his perspective. His mother, with her long auburn hair and russet brown eyes, looked into the crowd with a black stare atop his father's lap. The sight between them has become more common during these times, a tactic, Eris suspected, was another way to assert control over her.

Her emerald dress flowed from her, contrasting the perfectly tailored brown suit his father wore. Beron spoke boastfully towards his kin, sneering and laughing at the enjoyment of the night. Eris always festered a hate for the male in front of him - the short brown hair, beard, how his too-perfect appearance was another way to establish dominance to others surrounding him.

Eris faked a laugh at one of his father's jokes, something about females being inferior, and then swirled his fae wine. He took only a sip, never drinking too much, always on edge just in case. Between the threat of his father's temper or his younger brothers willingness to eradicate him from the throne, Eris never allowed himself too much pleasure. Whether it be sleeping too deep, drinking too much or enjoying anything - a female, a possession, a dream - Eris knew discipline was the only way to survive in the hellish world he was born into.

The party continued, the evening turning later, with two of his brothers disappearing towards the crowd, set on some High Fae females from the Winter Court, hoping for some company for the night. His father had left to talk with some associates from Autumn, loudly speaking about how great a High Lord he was for 'saving' his court from turmoil. His mother sat starring off in space, hand placed perfectly in her lap. Eris could have sworn every once in a while her gaze traveled to the newly appointed High Lord of Day, the details of why, Eris knew well.

Eris continued to sip from his wine, observing his brothers failing to gain attention of those Winter Court females, keeping his eye of his mother, and engaging in brisk talk with his younger brother, who of which was an impeccable duplicate of Beron. Not only in looks, but in personality and cruelty - the original fifth to the throne, now third in line, could be argued to have more of a brutal reputation than Eris'.

Then it happened...

A yelling - no, screaming erupted in the halls, slowing the voices to silence in the main room. All heads snapped towards the corridors leading towards different, unfathomable routes. The crowd began to part, making a path from the corridor straight to the red-headed bitch. There, her pointy ears perked upwards at the distressed sounds, and Rhysand narrowed his eyes towards the stone entrance. Before Eris set his eyes on the attraction, he noted a glint of amusement in Amarantha's gaze.

All eyes set upon an ugly Attor, drug a girl up towards the Queen, clawed hand digging into the hair of the girl. The girl could be no younger than 100 but no older than 200 years-old, with tan skin that glowed more than that of the High Lord of Day. Her brown hair was flecked with highlights of gold and reached to her mid-back, and bangs covered her forehead. Freckles, a rarity amoung fae, spread across her cheeks.

She bore a satin purple floor length dress, with a slit up the left leg and immaculate laced sleeves covering her arms. The leg that showed from her slit, showed thicker thighs than most fae females, less slender and more built out, with muscle hidden underneath her skin. She held a fuller face and body but was attractive in her own right - she had an allure to her, not in the seductive beauty that would be assumed, but in the soft and kind beauty her being projected. Her clothing choice, and the amount of intricate gold trinkets and jewellery decorating her gown and body identified her as hailing from the Dawn Court.

Eris swore he heard another shout, more masculine, coming from the crowd, as the girl came closer towards the black throne. Her screaming, was a mix of cuss words and a foreign language, and though it was indeed screaming, her voice did not go too loud. As she was drug across the red marble floor, she locked eyes with the High Lord of Dawn, Thesan, and a look of terror crossed both of their faces - they must be lovers or related if they cared about each that much, Eris thought to himself.

Thesan had the audacity to follow the Attor and the girl, on their heals the breath was stole from his body. He had brown hair curling over his head, brown skin glowing, though more pale than usual, and a slender build, dressed in tan flowing pants and a covered lose shirt. As they were seen closer together, it was easy to see the relation between them. Though the girl wasn't as slender as him, and seemed shorter than most fae females, she had the same nose and glow that Thesan radiated. Their cheekbones held the same structure and both had similar quiet attitudes surrounding them.

The High Lord of Dawn stopped as the Attor threw the girl in front of Amarantha, arms useless at his sides. A soft groan erupted from the girl while Amarantha smiled cruelly.

“What have we here… Dawn royalty?” She questioned.

Amarantha lounged on her throne, one leg crossed over the other, a hand under her chin in amusement. The girl had lifted her face, a streak of blood on her cheek and a bruise quickly forming on her face. The girl set her features into a school of coolness, her lips pressed and blue eyes set on the Queen, as if the girl thought she was equal of better than the Queen in front of her.

As their eyes interlocked and Amarantha raised a brow in challenge, the girl stood on shaky legs, standing to her full height and lifting her chin in acknowledgement, as if to say 'bring on your worst'. The Queen noticed the slight challenge, while Thesan, wild eyed, loosed a breath.

"Is it, that we have here," the Queen gestured to the crown with a wicked laugh, "The princess of Dawn, younger sister of the High Lord?"

Another gleam of statistic pleasure glossed through her eyes as she looked down at the princess, who though stood straight with posture perfected over time, set in her stubbornness, the girl was still just a girl, weak compared to the Queen. She appeared short and non-threatening, except for a glowing fire in her dark blue eyes, like she's held such battles before.

Eris admired the stubborned face she kept, and spared a glance at his father's curl of a smile, ready to see another cruel torture.

It wasn't main knowledge that the previous High Lord had sired two children, the now High Lord Thesan, and a daughter, of which little was known about. She was a marvel to the Court's royalty, and only made appearances in the Solar Courts balls. But even then, she was thought to be the perfect, silent virgin girl who still lived in a fantasy, adored by those who knew her in Dawn. In fact, Beron had tried to set up one of his sons with the princess, to gain a better alliance, only to be denied by her father with vicious intent.

“So,” the Queen stated, bored. “Have you a name? Or shall I take it out of you?”

The girl wasted no time. "Brie," she answered in a soft but stern tone, chin lifting higher and eyes narrowing. Her soft features were schooled into an unnatural stone wall, making her look older.

“Brie,” Amarantha tasted the name on her tongue. “And tell me, how did she get here?” She asked the Attor. 

He looked up at her, black smokey face turned into a wicked smile, sharp teeth pointing. His voice echoed like death, "We have finally caught her - found her secure hiding sport, in a small town called Aruna. She'd been leading the rebellion against us," he tsked.

"Don't worry, my Queen, the rebels were taken care of - in front of their majesty. They have been exterminated."

A look of sadness crossed her eyes, and regret. "She was also looking into ways to dethrone you, my Queen," the Attor was almost laughing at this, excited for the outcome.

A shadow glazed Amarantha's face, a threat to her power was the last thing she wanted.

"I supposed," she began. "Some more punishment shall be bestowed upon the Dawn Court. They did so wonderful," she said in a mock frown and baby voice, pouting her lower lip. "I know it was about time until someone tried again, but atlas, I am too powerful! I captured all the High Lords, what made you think you could take me down?"

A cackle rang out throughout the room, echoing into the stone routes etched into the walls. Thesan still stood behind the Attor, though he looked, truly, as if death had fallen upon him with what the Queen said next.

The Queen stood, long red hair coming in waves over her shoulders, the white feathers of her dress flaring out at the bottom and showing her cleavage at the top. She walked towards Brie, slowly but calculated. She caught Brie's chin in between her thumb and fingers, pulling her face towards hers.

"Perhaps you need a reminder of how kind I am," she suggested. "I could kill you, brutally, or I could kill your brother - who knows what other more suitable male would fill his position." A gleam of worry shown in Brie's eyes at the threat of her brother's life, with a twitch of her nose at Amarantha's jab towards her brother's sexuality - who was rumored to enjoy both females and males. Not a crime, or an oddity in this world, but certainly a scandal in the traditional court of Autumn.

"But I'll settle on this, so next time you, or your people, think of rebelling, you'll remember at what cost it comes with." Amarantha hummed before beginning her assault.

The Attor finally let go of Brie, as did Amarantha, landing her on her knees, a gasp leaving her throat. Amarantha worked herself, beating the girl with her magic and a metal bar that a cronie had given her in the middle of the process. The beating was lighter than the majority that had been seen, bit it wasn't until after Amarantha's abuse did people understand the full length of the punishment.

Brie sported a left elbow that fell at her side, loose and broken - more shattered, in every way - with bruises over her face, arms and legs. The elegant Dawn gown she wore was ripped in many places, now exposing her stomach, a bit of her undergarments (a black lace that left Eris' brothers snickering), and slashes across her collarbone. Blood stained the material darker than it already was.

The wounds did not heal, meaning she was under the influence of faebane beforehand. Brie gasped in pain, face distorted, and clung to her left arm with her right, and stayed kneeled over on the ground, barely gaining composure. She took the pain, with some screams flying out of her mouth, and now a few tears had escaped her eyes.

Thesan had stepped back towards the crowd by this time, an order from the Queen herself, and the previous glow he seemed to radiate was vanished by now. His face was also twisted in pain, his eyes showing a sadness. The Queen, covered in blood, smiled above the girl, throwing the metal bar across the room, hitting an innocent bystander.

"Rhys," She began. "Take her back to our room."

At that statement, the whole crowd knew the expense of her punishment. Brie's head lifted with a sort of panic in her eyes. Rhysand seemed to hesitate, almost, as if him and Brie had once had a connection, before grabbing her by the left arm, admitting a shriek from Brie. Thesan behold the sight, and in a matter of seconds Rhysand drug Brie down the path as tears escaped Thesan's eyes as well.

"Let this be a reminder," spoke Amarantha. "Of my kindness." A pointed look, and then she turned towards the throne, "Music!" she yelled, and everyone went back tot he ball as if nothing had happened.

The blood was still on the floor, but people walked over it in their returned mingling. Beron laughed and the sons of Autumn continued towards the females they set their eyes on prior. Eris' brother next to him, Rory, snickered, "Typical idiotic female. At least Rhysand will get a break from the bitch."

Eris played along, nodding his head, before swirling his wine again, gaze lingering towards Thesan, who turned towards a group of Dawn individuals. All the courts members looked distraught over the princess, and by the end of the night, Thesan and the other escorts, would return to their chambers early.

That night, as Eris escorted his mother to her and his father's bedchamber, his couldn't shake the girl, Brie, from his mind. As he laid in bed, looking up at the grey stone of his bedchamber, one more luxurious than others due to the Autumn's commitment to Amarantha, he remembered the events of her encounter. Her silent stubbornness, how her pain, despite controlled, erupted more pain in the Dawn's residents. Perhaps, having a sibling who was hurt from them being in pain was what having a sibling was supposed to be like. Instead of a relief, like it would have been between Eris and his brothers, another weight off his back.

Eris sighed, annoyed at the distraction - it was just another instance of the day. So, he closed his eyes, resting on the semi-cool bed.

That night his sleep had been worse than it usually was throughout his life, with dreams of a dewy countryside and soft clouds against a cobalt sky. A place only a few dreams in his life had taken him to, usually after his father tortured him - although none were as vivd as this nights was.

This dream was different, with a soft smile upon him and a delicate hand running through his hair, then down over his scarred back, in the dream. It could have been peaceful to others, but to Eris, the comfort was painful. Nothing was ever comfortable in his life, despite the palace of which he lived.

He awoke with a soft sweat coating his bare skin, and decided to splash some water on his face before returning to his bed, thinking, again, of the princess from Dawn.