Fighting Fay
Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine, but belong to Showcase™.
The modelling agency looked positively regular, but the trained eye of a powerful Fay such as the Blackthorn, could easily see the dark, negative aura that was surrounding it. Humans, of course, couldn't, and after decades they were probably desensitized to its' more esoteric manifestations as well.
The Blackthorn wasn't desensitized. The Blackthorn was immune, period. Therefore, the hesitation that occurred before he had knocked on the door could be explained either by a momentary loss of his nerve or by a brief flash of distaste – but knock on the door he did.
Immediately, the door opened. A green-eyed, red-haired woman in rather revealing clothing stood in the doorway. "The Blackthorn?" she asked neutrally. "The Morrighan bids you welcome."
"Much obliged," the more powerful Fay replied equally neutrally and stepped inside.
Inside, there was a short corridor, and down the corridor there was a modest but comfortable room, complete with a smallish fireplace to a side, several sofas, chairs, and one rather large table behind which the Morrighan sat.
"Greetings, Lord Blackthorn," the Dark Fay said in the same neutral tone. "What brings you to my humble abode? I believe that my... congratulations to the new Ash were in order?"
The Blackthorn bit down a slight grimace. Cannily, the Morrighan had arranged so that he looked like a petitioner for her assistance or backing, and that was insulting – but then again, there were a lot of things about the Morrighan that were insulting, not just this arrangement.
"Yes, the congratulations were in order, but you know what would've made them better? A proper delivery at the ceremony, rather than by mail," the Blackthorn said, ignoring the chairs, and instead looming over the sitting Morrighan.
"Yes, they would've – for the Light Fay. I have no intention of doing that," the Morrighan said calmly. "Dark Fay here, remember?"
Now the Blackthorn paused. He was half-expecting for the Morrighan to go on the offensive, but the Morrighan's quickness of doing that still was surprising.
"There you go again, making things harder for yourself," he sighed instead. "You, I, and your underlings now that for all of your posturing you're still toeing the line, so why not go one step further and start co-operating properly? In most other cities that is already being done to the benefit of both sides, why not here?"
"Oh, I'm not planning on staying here for too long," the Morrighan grinned prettily, "once my plan is complete, I'm leaving this city behind me."
"Or you can start co-operating and leave this city behind much quicker," the Blackthorn sounded completely serious, which he was. "Where do you want to go? Ottawa? The States? Once you'll start co-operating the Fay council can do this quickly enough."
"Thank you for your offer, but I'm not interested. I got my plan, and I'm following it instead," the Morrighan shook her head. "Will there be anything else, milord Blackthorn?" the tone was clearly dismissive, too.
The Blackthorn didn't rise to his current position by not knowing when to take a hint or force a confrontation. There've been attempts in the past to force the Morrighan into submission, and in every case the executor of that attempt vanished, destroyed either by the Morrighan herself or her bodyguards. Even a very old Fay had to tread lightly when dealing with the Morrighan in her HQ.
"No, I'll see myself out," the Blackthorn shook his head. "I'd point out that sooner or later those who don't go right end up going left, but you've heard that before, didn't you?"
"Yes, I have, and thank you for pointing it out to me all the same," the Morrighan said calmly. "Is there anything else you need to tell me?"
"No," the Blackthorn looked at the Dark Fay. "Not at all." With these words he turned around and abruptly left.
/
Once the door closed behind the other Fay, the Morrighan stretched and looked at her bodyguards. "Just as I thought: the Fay council is putting their master plan in the politics one step further. Fair enough. Let's step it up a notch, shall we?"
There were nods all around, as the Morrighan knew there would be. The Blackthorn, for all of his posturing, hated getting his hands dirty, especially in a situation where he could lose, and the new Ash, Lachlan, was simply an arrogant ass – therefore as long as the Morrighan didn't get too carried away herself, she could proceed with her own plan with impunity.
Smirking, the Morrighan looked at the picture hanging on her wall: Nycticorax, the crow of night, was spreading its wings to eclipse the setting sun. "Soon," she whispered excitedly, "soon my power will be restored and the Fay council will remember just who they're dealing with!"
End