#dreadfulfables

"You're like me," he murmurs, evident wonder in his gaze as he admires her wings. "You're beautiful," the compliment slips out without meaning to, and he's pleased that his tanned skin makes it harder to see his blush. "I've never met anyone else like...this," he spreads his own, large wings out behind him but tries to control some of his enthusiasm. His father is an excellent inventor, it's true, but he supposes it is certainly possible that someone else had also discovered the technology to make such life-like wings.

She notices the subtle shift in the woman's eyes when she speaks. The empath tilts her head, fascinated by this particular stranger. Soft as they are, the words are unexpected. She wonders what the woman is talking about.

@dreadfulfables

Her eyes fall shut, and she hums - blissful - as Wynn's fingers carefully weave strands of her hair together. She cannot recall the last time she had someone to braid her hair, at least not since she had reached adulthood, and she is ever so aware of the gentle intimacy behind the action. When Wynn finishes, she turns and presses a soft kiss of thanks to her lips.

"Do I look pretty?" she asks, genuinely, as she runs a finger down the thick braid. "I'm not very good at braiding my own hair."

"Ow!" She cried out with a flinch as she pulled her hand away, hiding it against her chest where she felt the throbbing subside quickly. But the threat remained: he'd worn iron purposefully to hurt her.

There grew murmurs in the crowd around them and big brown eyes looked to Cenred, her safe space, her person, her love, wondering what he'd do.

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At first, he believes his imagination has run wild. Although their kingdoms are no longer actively at war, tensions are still heightened and there is absolutely no chance Cenred would have invited the King of Camelot to the ball tonight. Particularly not with Wynn at his side. Still, he has no desire to cause a scene in front of so many important visitors and when he politely moves to kiss her hand he merely grits his teeth and meets the gaze of the head of his guard, eyes flashing with warning.

But he moves unthinkingly at the sound of Wynn's pain, one hand instantly drawing his sword while the other grabs Uther's tunic and pulls him towards him. His knights follow his lead, flanking his sides and carefully forming a protective wall between the Camelot king and Wynn.

"How fucking dare you?" he growls, ignoring the swords being drawn by Uther's own men and the gasps from the rest of their guests. "I should run you through where you stand."

@dreadfulfables

From where she is stretched luxuriously across the bed - a selection of deep, soft furs covering her otherwise nude body - she gazes up at Wynn with a small, cheeky smile curling at the corners of her lips. "Then don't," she protests, "you must tell the King and Queen you are far too busy to attend to any royal duties today," she teases, reaching out and grabbing Wynn's hand, half-heartedly trying to pull her down onto the bed with her.

@dreadfulfables asked: " heaven and hell were words to me. " (viserys from caerwyn)

He wasn't entirely sure he'd been meant to hear that, lips pressing together briefly to stifle the words of comfort that had risen in a swell of compassion that wasn't entirely misplaced. The two had come to a sort of terms, his defection had helped that, and Balerion had done the rest.

At least with the queen it had been a willing alliance, remembering with distaste how he'd been set up to be used as assassin for those incapable. Their failings had pushed them to desperate measures, and that had lead to their downfall. Or would soon, pouring her a half goblet of wine and holding it out.

'My sympathies on your having the definitions so acutely thrust into such clear definition.' Treading carefully, he offered a small smile in place of the tight lipped silence he'd attempted. 'But you are better for surviving that knowledge, your majesty.'

@dreadfulfables asked: " i'll love the world like i should. " (hannibal from wren)

There was a desperate edge to the words Hannibal took note of, tucking the information away in his mental library for future use. She wants out, he'd been told. Didn't want to perform is what they mean, keeps asking to do something normal. The disgust in their voice as they'd said it amused him to no end. High hopes they had, and they'd "hired him" to fix it after asking him to host an event for them in return for giving him access to this feathered wonder.

'You don't have to make promises to me, Wren.' At least not these, they're worthless to him, gaze holding hers as he sat seemingly indolent in the uncomfortable chair. 'I can tell you're a very sweet young woman, so I do need you to tell me the truth.'

Someone had been talking, or giving her literature that had sparked this little fantasy of freedom. He would have done it himself just to see her do something with the gift that had been forced on her. His mind's eye traced over the wings, the feathers, curve of the ulna, predator's wings grafted onto prey. Almost funny really, still dissecting the wings mentally as his lips curved gently as he stacked his hands on the legal pad they'd forced into his hands. He'd leave them some psych babble to appease them, but nothing that'd be useful.

'Who were you speaking to, Wren. The one who mentioned the things you're asking for?' Leaning forward, angling his head away from the obvious camera as if to hide his lips. 'If you tell me I'll speak to them first so they won't get in trouble. They can get away and then I can help you.'

It seemed as if every planet had rain, even if the sky were a bubblegum pink with clouds like velvety rose petals. Only when the smell hits, something similar to what it's like back on Earth, does Wren grab Mantis' hand and they wander out into the sprinkling and twirl and dance around. Water is never an issue for her wings, rain like this simply beads and drips off feathers without weighing her down. She holds Mantis' hands in her own and the smile on her face is bright and genuine, for she has never been happier in this world within the stars that the girl never dreamed of before. And she has Mantis to thank for that.

Wren's bubbly energy is positively contagious. All Mantis can do is smile and dance with her. Twirling happily with the woman she thinks of as a sister. The two laugh and spin, and for a moment Mantis feels at peace – all her worries melt away for the time being. They will return, she knows, but not yet. Not now.

She can feel Wren's gratitude, and joy, and wonder. Their joined hands grant her a glimpse of the winged woman's emotions, but Mantis will not pry. Not when they're having a good time.

"Are you certain it will not affect your wings?" Mantis cries out after a moment. Her caring nature blooms again before she can stop it. "Can you... catch a cold through them?"