[Lore] A Moon for the Misbegotten

The Neverending Lory

Roxana - 4th Month 302 AC

From a distance the sound of bawdy musicians and rowdy, drunken revelers could be heard throughout the halls of the castle. Mother had outdone herself once again with these festivities, a task in which she truly excelled. But it all melted into a dull drone in Roxana's ears as she stalked through the lonely corridors that led to her family's private chambers.

The guests were all well plied with bellies full of free food and alcohol and free exotic amusements to keep them all entertained. Roxana escaped the crowd at the earliest opportunity, lest she dissolve into tears in front of everyone and make a fool of herself. Mother had always chided her for being too emotional and too sensitive and Roxana was in no mood for lectures tonight.

She had known for a long time that this day would eventually come, but now that it was here, and the reality of soon being parted from Eirlys upon her, all Roxana wanted to do was hide. Worse still had come when she had caught a glimpse of the one who calls himself Father, waltzing amongst the crowd and mingling with the other guests as if nothing had ever happened at all. She couldn't get away from the feast hall fast enough.

The pale light of the full moon illuminated the corridor that led to the chambers that she shared with her husband. Roxana pushed the door open and staggered slowly toward her bed, eager to bury herself beneath the covers, but instead found a pair of little bundles tucked beneath the blankets. Them. She froze in place for a moment and felt her heart skip a beat. Why did the nursemaids put them here?

Abominations, a murmur in the breeze that wafted gently through the window. A saturnine, violet gaze focused on the pale silver hair of Lucius as it glistened luminously in the pale moonlight that lit the room. Impure, a voice seemed to whisper in her ear. Her pulse fluttered. A quiet stir from the raven haired girl curled up beside him drew her gaze to Lilith. Unclean, the voice admonished as Roxana crept closer to the bed and reached out to take hold of a pillow.

Roxana trembled, the silken fabric clutched tightly betwixt slender fingers as she loomed above the pair of oblivious, sleeping children. Every fibre of every muscle in her body twitched with anxious anticipation and her breath was held captive in her throat. She shut her eyes tightly as the pillow was lowered slowly.

"Patchface come here," a lilting voice called out quietly from the hallway. A flash of motion captured her attention, a patchwork of calico fur was spied in the corner of her eye as her daughter Eirlys' cat Patchface abruptly leapt from a shadowy corner up onto a low table. The noise gave her a start and a quiet gasp left her lips. The odd mismatched eyes of the cat settled accusingly on her as Patchface prowled slowly along the table. Her daughter appeared like a ghost at the threshold of the room, a macabre little smile danced upon her pale lips.

"Eirlys, what are you doing away from the feast hall?" Roxana asked, a wide gaze snapped up from the twins.

"Gangie said that it was time that Orys and I improved relations between our houses," Eirlys deadpanned as she scooped up her cat and nuzzled him softly.

Roxana felt a lump in her throat and another wave of guilt swelled within her. Deep down she knew that Eirlys had not really desired this marriage and though there had been numerous fits thrown along the way, her daughter had dutifully, albeit tearfully obeyed. Roxana had not possessed the fortitude to challenge her mother all that strongly against the match, thought she had initial misgivings about the Carons, many that had been put to rest during the time that Orys had spent living in Godsgrace.

"Lord Orys seems to be a kind and honorable man," Roxana began, her voice quiet, "I am sure that with time you will come to love Nightsong as a home and your place there as Lady Caron. Your father and I did not love one another when we were first married. We built that over time."

"If you say so," Eirlys shrugged softly, unconvinced and spun lightly on her heels to take her leave of the room. She paused for a moment to look over her shoulder and flashed an odd, morbid smile. Her violet eyes glittering wildly in the moonlight.

"A pillow will never kill a dragon."

Eirlys disappeared as randomly as she had arrived, much as the girl had always been wont to do. Roxana blinked slowly and sat shaking at the edge of the bed clutching the pillow tightly to her chest. The sound of her hammering pulse echoed between her ears and tears spilt freely down pale cheeks. There was a quiet rustle beneath the covers behind her.

"What's wrong Mama?," Lilith called out sleepily, "Please don't cry."

"Its nothing. Go back to sleep." Roxana said quietly, her voice wavering as she could taste the bile rising in her throat. She forced herself to her feet and fled the room without another look back.