Disclaimer: ditto the last seven chapters
A/N: So, I had a really great time in Seattle, and would like to thank everyone for reviewing while I was away! FINALLY going to get into the campaign, so if that's what you were waiting for, here it is! Theoretically…
LFK
Halls of Justice, Majandra's Room…
"Majandra!" Aribeth called for the third time, knocking on the heavy steel door that stood between her and the daemonfae's room. "Majandra, are you in there?" she knocked one more time and then sighed, reaching into a pouch on her belt for the key to the door.
The door swung open silently on greased hinges, and Aribeth stepped into the dimly lit room, careful of any obstacles lying in her way to the bump on the coverless mattress.
With a wave of her hand, the lady paladin lit the candelabras and knelt besides the sleeping half-demon. "Majandra," she said in a loud whisper, hand reaching out to touch the girl on the shoulder. "I need to ta-"
"What are you doing here, my lady?" Majandra sighed as she turned over, startling the paladin back a step. "Has Nasher sent you to make sure your 'pet demon' is still in its pen?" her voice was laced with scorn as she shifted away from the elf, yet her red veined eyes bespoke of deeper concerns.
"I came on my own," Aribeth replied as she returned to her seat on the tiny bed. "I was worried about you, and it seems as though my concern was not misplaced. What is wrong, Majandra?"
"Nothing." The fey'ri replied with a half-hearted attempt at a scowl. "Go away."
"Tell me. You are my responsibility, and I won't leave until I know you're alright."
"What is with you?" Majandra demanded hotly. "Can't you tell this really isn't a good time? If I wanted your concern or help, I'd ask for it!"
Seems like you wanted her help not long ago, Rekkei whispered at the back of her mind, flashing images taken from Majandra's subconscious as she slept. Yes, you want her, terribly, terribly so…
"Why are you so resistant to me?" Aribeth finally exploded, missing the momentary blankness in the fey'ri's eyes as she communed with her other half. "I'm your only ally against Nasher, and I'm putting MY position on the line defending you! Why can't you just let me help you?" the two women sat in an intense silence, glaring at each other with faces inches apart.
Finally, Majandra averted her gaze and muttered, "I'm tired of being used. Tired of this plane, this existence, and this situation! I have no other choice but to do as that man demands, and I'm just plain tired of it all."
"Who hurt you so badly that helping others is such a horrible thought, no matter how it's done?" Aribeth whispered, wiping away the single angry tear falling from Majandra's eye with a gentle caress.
"One doesn't survive long on the planes without being hurt or hurting others." Majandra replied wryly, inwardly raging at herself for being so weak.
In the days since the fall of the Academy, as well as the revelation from the Marus, Majandra had felt her elvish senses and abilities slowly drain away until she was but an irritable shadow of herself. Her limbs felt weighted down and slow without her inherent dexterity, and the song of the stars grew more distant each and every day. Even Tekkei's voice had faded away under the advance of the disease that poisoned their blood, leaving Rekkei to spout endless streams of violence like a little imp on her shoulder.
All those problems combined had robbed Majandra of the ability to sleep, and poor Aribeth had interrupted one of those attempts.
"Majandra? Majandra?" Aribeth's voice snapped the fey'ri out of her thoughts and back to the present.
"What? Oh, please excuse me, my lady. I was thinking." Majandra apologized, voice gentler than before. "What'd you say?"
"I asked if you would tell me more about yourself," Aribeth replied somewhat sheepishly, a blush darkening her cheeks. "I want to know who you are, and why you're always so sad."
Wow, Majandra thought as she grinned slightly at the elven paladin. She's rather cute when she blushes. Wait! Why am I thinking such things? An answering blush spread across her face as she choked out a reply. "Uh, w-what do you want to know?"
"Anything." Aribeth replied immediately. "Everything. Your experiences have made you the beautiful woman you are today, and I wish to share that."
Am I flirting with her? Aribeth wondered as another blush suffused her cheeks. I AM flirting with her! Why, when I have Fenthick? I'll think on this later.
"Surely you jest, my lady," Majandra blushed as she replied, head ducked to avoid Aribeth's gaze. "My own looks pale in comparison to those of present company."
"I promise," Aribeth leaned forward and placed a gentle hand on Majandra's knee, warmth surging through her body at the contact. "We'll trade a tale for a tale, and anything said in this room remains between us." The two women sat in comfortable silence as Majandra fought with herself and a century's worth of trust issues, though Aribeth was content to simply watch the stunning fey'ri as those amber eyes searched for a place to begin.
"I was born three and a half centuries ago to an elven father and, according to him, Erinyes mother." Majandra began slowly, voice uncertain as she shot the attentive paladin a glance. "I don't know all the details, but what little I know is that my father was once a formidable mage in the elven community of Evereska. Dealings with planars were his forte, but when the council learned of the extent of his obsession, namely conceiving me, they threw him out. I was about three when my mother disappeared, and have few memories from that time, thank the gods."
"Why?" Aribeth interrupted. "Losing my mother and father was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, and I thank my lord Tyr everyday for the memories I have of them."
Majandra grimaced at the mention of the 'just' god and replied, "Just what do you think would have happened to me had I been left in the care of my mother? I, a half-elven, wingless abomination? Those were her words, not mine."
"I can't even imagine what you and your father had to go through," Aribeth surprised the fey'ri with the sincerity of her words. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, don't be." Majandra brushed the words aside as she rearranged her limbs into a more comfortable position. Somehow, during the conversation, Aribeth had managed to move close enough that their knees touched and their fingertips brushed against each other with each slight shift. "Mother," the word was filled with hatred and loathing, shocking the paladin's sensibilities. "Showed me how misguided my love and search for her were in the years after my father's death."
Sigil, One Hundred Fifty Years Ago…
It was raining miserably in the great City of Doors, though the great demons and devils roaming the straights paid the weather no mind. Sigil at it's best was dangerous, even with the enforced truce between natural enemies, and the potential for violence lay heavily in the air. The streets of Sigil were no place for a tiny, half-elven girl.
A small, cloaked figure slipped through the crowds like a shadow, quick fingers dipping in and out of purses as she passed. She never knew where her next meal was coming from, but eating out of dumpsters had gotten old fast. Being alone on the planes was hard, but things were about get a lot harder as her passage to the Horn and Hoof Inn was marked by countless eyes.
Without pausing to mark her surroundings, the girl ducked out of the downpour and into the rowdy furor of the Inn's common room.
"Excuse me, sir," The girl said in an innocent, polite tone to the big man behind the bar. "I'm looking for a woman who goes by the name Indara. I was told she'd be here."
"And who might you be, little missy," the tiefling barkeep replied in a mockery of her tone, "That you want to know of Mistress Indara?"
The girl lowered her hood and proudly stated, "Majandra Damar, daughter of Brilthor and Indara."
"Well then," the barkeep said dumbly into the sudden silence in the common room. "Go on back."
"Thank you, sir." Majandra nodded to the horned man and swept confidently off. Had she seen the evil glint in the eyes of the patrons as they watched her enter the realm of their mistress, she might have acted upon her sense of foreboding and fled. Minutes later, the air was filled with the screams of a young woman, and the crows of laughter from her tormentors.
Halls of Justice, Majandra's Room…
"What happened?" Aribeth hesitated, noting the way Majandra's eyes were fixed on a spot across the room.
"She robbed me of my innocence." Majandra replied emotionlessly a moment later. "She greeted me cordially enough, and I believed for a moment that I'd finally found a new home. Heh," she snorted in disgust and fixed Aribeth with a piercing gaze. "She ordered her men to rape me, and watched as they held me down. I still hear her voice in my nightmares, her laughter. 'A child of mine, abomination she may be, is no helpless, innocent little lamb' she said as she leered down into my face."
Majandra had to stop as she felt tears of pure, unadulterated fury building up behind her eyes from the awful memory. She unclenched her fists slowly, feeling wounds on her palms sting for a moment before healing. Suddenly, she was enveloped in a warm embrace from the side, shocking her with the sudden contact. "In Tyr's name, Majandra," Aribeth whispered as she held her close. I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone."
The fey'ri sat stiffly in Aribeth's embrace for a moment before she slowly allowed her tense muscles to relax and accept the comfort in her words. "I've never told anyone this tale," she said softly, almost in wonderment. Light streamed into the room through the barred window high up on the wall, illuminating both women with the gentle warmth of mid-afternoon.
"And you can trust me to hear the rest," Aribeth replied, auburn hair glimmering in the sunlight.
"Very well," Majandra nodded and resettled herself. The paladin had released her, but still had one arm draped over her shoulders in a wordless gesture of comfort. "I don't know how long they held me down on that floor. Hours, minutes, they all seemed to blur together, but I refused to let them see me cry. I was screaming in my head for someone to help me, and, for the first time in my life, someone answered."
"Rekkei and Tekkei."
"Exactly," Majandra confirmed. "Something within in me snapped, and I heard their voices in my head for the first time. I wasn't alone for the first time in decades, and those beasts violating me were the first to feel our wrath." Her eyes flared with fury for a moment and then simmered down like hot coals.
"What happened?" Aribeth asked for the hundredth time that day, eyes wide in awe and shock.
"I killed them all." Majandra replied nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders as though she'd been asked why the sky was blue. "I coated the ceiling with their limbs and washed the floor with their blood. When it was over, I dropped my weapons and fought the urge to scream, to throw up, or cry. It wasn't the first time I'd killed, but it was the first time I had gladly entered the blood rage and enjoyed the blood that coated my hands." She frowned down at her hands as though she could still see the gore dripping from her fingers, and then shook her head to dispel the image. "Indara, the only person remaining alive, stepped forward and touched my forehead, saying 'you have earned your wings, daughter. Welcome home.'" The fey'ri closed her eyes and concentrated, and, for a moment, Aribeth could see a pair of black-feathered wings flaring out from Majandra's back.
"Why can't I see your wings now?" Aribeth asked as they faded from view.
"Because," Majandra replied, "My wings are neither visible nor useable on the mortal plane, and it takes a considerable amount off power for me to materialize them, even for a moment." But that was too easy altogether, she thought with an internal shudder. Rekkei, what the hell is going on! But her demonic counterpart refused to answer, and so the question was forgotten as Aribeth asked another.
"So, it was your mother that used you so horribly." Aribeth said softly, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I understand how strongly you feel about it now, and I swear upon my oath as a paladin that you will be released upon the completion of this business." But will Lord Nasher let her go? She wondered, horrified at the thought. He's a crafty warrior and cunning ruler, and I can't see him letting go of such an advantage over the others in the Lords Alliance.
"She's the one that introduced me to the Blood Wars." Majandra confirmed. "But that's a tale I will never tell. You owe me one. Now, what did you really want when you came in here?"
"Just to see you," Aribeth responded with a sigh, feeling the weight of duty settling even harder on her shoulders once more. "Fenthick sides with Desther concerning every decision, the priest himself is in the motion of replacing Tyr with Helm in the hearts of the citizenry, and Nasher refuses to see reason and meet you." Majandra flinched as she continued. "I'd rather see you free and hunted than trapped in this plague ridden city, doomed like the rest of us."
"Oh." The fey'ri couldn't think of anything else to say in response to Aribeth's outburst, and settled on amiable silence.
They sat like that for a while, Aribeth leaning her head against the taller woman's shoulder. The moment was interrupted scant minutes, or perhaps long hours, later when Majandra fell into a coughing fit, ivory skin paling as she fought to breathe between hacks.
"You don't look so good," Aribeth said worriedly as she hopped up and returned a split second of later with a glass of water. "Are you well?"
"Just fine," Majandra lied easily, hiding her blood stained hand under her thigh. "When do we get started on the search for the cure? Can't keep the people waiting!"
"Oh," Aribeth's expression was slightly perplexed at the apparent change in Majandra's outlook. "The intelligence finished collecting the required information today, and will issue their report to me early tomorrow morning. We begin then."
"Perfect." Majandra flashed a roguish grin that made Aribeth's heart jump. "Now, I think you owe me a tale."
Aribeth simply smiled and nodded, contentment overriding her fears of the days to come.
The two women sat through the rest of the day and long into the night, trading stories from their pasts like children trade candy, sharing each other's fears and joys as though they'd been friends for years instead of months.
Finally, Aribeth fell into exhausted sleep, head resting in Majandra's lap as the other girl sat up into the night.
She already has a lover; Tekkei's voice invaded her thoughts for the first time in two days, feeling far weaker than before. What right do you have to intrude on their life like this?
She doesn't need the right, Rekkei responded quickly, mirroring Majandra's thoughts. The paladin and cleric are together in name only, meaning she's ripe for the taking.
"Rekkei's right," Majandra replied a moment later, stroking Aribeth's bangs with gentle hands. "But I won't force myself on her, or make her choose. But, no matter. What happens will happen." She turned her head and covered her mouth as another fit wracked her body, feeling her head spin dizzily as it came to an end.
What happens will happen…
A/N: aright then, chapter eight is finished! Full of Majandra's angsty past, Aribeth's confused feelings, and lovely input from our favorite weapons. Sorry that it was based completely on the two lovely ladies, but Kaerion and the lads get back in the story next chapter. Oh, and sorry if the flirting was god-awful. It's easier to do on a whim than type up with a purpose…
And get this! I finished writing the next five chapters while I was away (as in, DEFINITELY the better part of chapter one), but I'll be grilled fromage before I post a single one of them without a good number of reviews! So, if you have any questions comments and/or flames, feel free to click the little blue button and let me know, hey?