Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction biased in the world created by Anne Bishop in her Black Jewels Trilogy. The characters are however are original and copyright of their maker. Keep in mind that not all of these characters are mine. I use them with permission of the maker. This is a thread from Ebony, a forum I role-play on. The link is my homepage if you wish to check it out. As such not all of this is written by me and again is used with permission.

Raith Malakhim are characters made by J and I use them with his permission. Gaia Mircia is mine.

Characters: Black Jeweled Black Widow Warlord Prince Raith Malakhim

Rose Jeweled Black Widow Healer Gaia Mircia

Writer of this chapter: J and Me

Gaia tossed her head back slightly to remove short strands of spiky blonde hair form obscuring her blue eyed gaze. She really shouldn't be here; trapped on this fucking boat full of Aristo witches and Warlords, mixing it up with men and women whose jewels eclipse hers. Most of them, she noticed as well, long lived races.

She was so out of place and it was painfully obvious. Pale skin, pale eyes, pale hair and clothes that were far too easy to move in. Too semi-formal it seemed for what was going on around her.

The Black Widow Healer was underdressed. The blue leather halter top and blue leather pants that hugged her thighs but flared around the knees and just brushed the floor as she stood were hardly formal. The minor, one inch silver heels gave her just enough height so the pants didn't drag, not that she really gave a damn. She did nothing with her hair since it always had a unique look and wore a simple silver chain around her neck, her rose jewel hanging just above her breasts.

With her back wedged in the corner and strong arms crossed over her chest, paranoid blue orbs licked from one person to the next. She was here because she'd been stupid and thought it might be fun. Might have been a time where she could mix with a few people outside of Glacia. Fuck had she been wrong. But she was stuck here, and she would deal with whatever and whoever came her way.

She wouldn't run. Never run. She was not a small woman, and even if her jewel was light in colour she could make up for what it lacked with venom, and fair fighting skill. Her eyes passed over another Eyrien and she tensed... If she happened to get on the bad side of one of those winged beings...she would be so fucked.

Spotting the wall flower Raith raised an eyebrow at her and excused himself out of the group of people he was talking to. Handily being one of the hosts it was easy to politely get out of unwanted conversations by insisting you had to talk to others, it was one of the perks that people expected you to talk to everyone and so no fucker had a right to get insulted.

It was nice to see someone other than one of the long lived races here, the blonde hair and blue eyes standing out quiet nicely, plus the semi formal outfit, he could see why she had pressed herself into a corner. No matter the determined look on her face.

Raith dropped his empty glass on a passing servant's tray and weaved his way through the crowd before bowing to the Black Widow Healer.

He grinned and held out his hand from his half prone position, laying on the Hayllian charm, the Black and Red on their steel chain swinging out his shirt.

"May I have this dance Lady?"