Nervous whispers followed him as he was led down the elaborate, winding halls. The corridor, hewn of painstakingly smoothed soil, glittered with small stones in the light of the torches lining the walls. The sconces blazed with green flame, illuminating his path as he was "escorted" to the grand hall of the Folk.
He proudly held his head aloft, defiantly meeting several anxious stares as members of the Court lined the walls, talking lowly amongst themselves and eyeing him warily. He snorted as one woman actually squeaked upon making eye-contact with him, wide lavender eyes quickly fleeing from the stare of confident emerald ones. Confidence was something he had always exuded, marking his place among the Folk as one not to be trifled with. Not that he wasn't nervous, but he absolutely couldn't show it. The Court would look upon any fear as weakness, and he would be dismissed as cowardly. This, he simply could not allow.
He snarled as one of the guards clutched onto his shoulder as they paused, waiting for a large stone door to be opened. The soil lurched and crumbled as the stone was pressed, the circular door rolling elegantly into the crevice carved into the wall. It grated loudly against the floor, gravel popping angrily as it was crushed.
He threw a glare over his shoulder as the guard roughly shoved him forward, through the doorframe and into the high-ceilinged grand hall. The torches along the walls here burned a brilliant silver, flooding the circular chamber with dappled, flickering light. It mingled with the soft glow of the spirits floating lazy circles along the length of the ceiling. "Will-'o'-th'-wisps," the humans called them when they entered the world of mortals. Funny name for such beautiful creatures.
The silver flames danced along the walls, catching the bright stones and flecks of ore between the waiting members of the Court. They were donned in their finest tonight, brilliant colors and patterns on flowing robes spilling out onto the smooth floor of the chamber. Of course, everyone wanted to look his best for the celebration taking place above, once the mortals left.
His eyes flickered across the Court, quickly finding the glimmering hem of the Queen's robes. Her gown was the same radiant amethyst as her eyes, purple waves cascading from her throne and out onto the floor. Her hair, black as night, was bedecked with glittering pearls-gifts from the Selkies, he was certain. Her face, pale and iridescent moonlight incarnate, was stern as she looked upon him.
The room instantly went silent.
"My Queen," he said after a moment's pause, "to what do I owe this...summons?" he asked politely as he moved to bow, but was restrained by the guards' hands clasping tightly onto both of his shoulders. He glared at them, narrowing his eyes.
"I believe you already know," the Queen answered coldly, rapping her slim fingertips on the armrest of her throne.
"I am afraid I do not," he answered quickly, heart in his mouth. Surely she could not have found out. It simply wasn't possible, not with the precautions he-both of them-had taken.
The look in those slanted violet eyes said otherwise as she sat straight and tall in her seat, tilting her head back to regally glare down at him. A few of the Court members shifted nervously, crossing legs or wringing hands in their laps as the heavy silence continued.
"You were plotting to overthrow me," the Queen whispered, drawing a few shocked gasps of horror from the Folk in the room.
He felt sick.
"M-my Queen, I am afraid you are mistaken-" he stammered, fighting to retain some sense of composure.
Damn him, that cowardly bastard. Damn him-
"I am never mistaken," she answered curtly as she snapped her pale fingers.
He protested as he was abruptly stripped of his clothing, beautiful crimson raiment torn to shreds as two of the guards restrained him. The fabric fell in tatters to the floor as he looked up in horror, naked...exposed...
...guilty.
The Queen had risen to her feet as he was humiliated, studying him with narrowed eyes and a sinister smile. Her hair and robes sighed against the floor as she stepped closer to him, reaching out and touching his forehead with a slim finger. He jumped in spite of himself; her touch was frigid.
"You are no longer a part of my Court," she hissed, "I have no use for traitors,"
He gulped, fighting to control his breathing as the room began to spin.
"What are you...?" he managed as he staggered, the guards holding fast to his arms as they began dragging him out of the chamber.
The Queen merely smirked, the vengeful glint in her violet eyes the last thing he knew.
Notes: Aw yeah more mythology stuff! Celtic this time. The Folk (Fae, faeries, etc.) lived in mounds underground, driven there by a war long ago. There are tribes of them, ruled over by Court and respective Queen. The Fae are described as being beautiful and having very soothing, smooth voices. They are everywhere in Celtic mythology, and whether or not they are good or evil is never quite concrete. "Will-'o'-th'-wisps" were mysterious lights often seen at night over bogs or marshy areas, believed to be evil spirits that lure unsuspecting humans to their deaths.