Chapter Text
She really shouldn’t have underestimated Hahvulon’s speed. Iedhelaran had barely stepped inside when a distant roar split the skies above them. She looked up to see Havulon in his true form flying toward them like an amethyst stormfront, his scales shining brilliantly in the sun. His great wings beat the air as he sped toward Elganbarad. He roared again as he spotted the tiny speck of pale blue that was her cloak. The fearsome figure tilted his wings into a dive.
Current company forgotten, she rushed back into the courtyard to meet her beloved as he struck the earth, shaking the ground, just outside the walls.
“My love!” She cried in relief and joy. She had missed him terribly.
In a flash of familiar violet magic, the great dragon that had arrived, disappeared and in its place stood the familiar humanoid form Hahvulon favored when being as large as his true form made things inconvenient. His attire had changed slightly over the years. He still favored dark silk robes and golden chains, but the multitudes of gemstones that dripped from his neck had been replaced with sapphires and aquamarine. That familiar pale face framed by shimmering scales was the most beautiful thing she had seen in weeks.
His lavender eyes softened to see her rushing toward him. Without hesitation, she crossed the threshold out of Elganbarad to embrace her fea-mir. He swept her up into his arms easily and all seemed right in the world again as he spun her around.
“My dearest treasure!” He rumbled as he buried his nose in her hair, drinking in her scent. (He had always insisted she smelled like a storm blowing in from the sea).
She felt pure undiluted relief flood through their bond as he held her. She basked in it as she shifted so she was sitting perched on his arm, his draconic strength supporting her effortlessly even in this humanoid form. It made her feel small in the best way.
Hahvulon immediately began speaking in frantic, hushed Draconic, “Mey-Kiir told me what happened when you arrived. I’ve told Iedhelaran to rein his damned forest in.” He brushed her hair from her face and took a proper look at her.
The relief Mirenne had felt from him curdled into enraged suspicion as he saw her split lip and mangled neck. She felt a growl thunder in his chest
“What happened? Who did this to you?” His face twisted in a snarl as he turned to face Iedhelaran, who was now back outside and standing by the gate with the pale elf slightly hidden behind him, clutching her closer and shielding her with his body. “Did HE- ”
Mirenne immediately soothed her fea-mir’s mounting fury with a gentle hand on his cheek as she turned him back to look at her.
“No, my love. I promise, he didn’t lay a single finger on me.” She watched as the rage burning in Hahvulon’s eyes cooled. “But if you still feel like ripping someone apart later, there’s a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate you can hunt the next time you’re summoned to the Material Plane.”
Which wouldn’t be for quite a few years yet. The Zodiacs each took turns in a twelve-year cycle of who answered a mortal’s call. It was the Rooster's turn at present.
Satisfied with a target and an eventual outlet for revenge, Hahvulon relaxed his grasp a bit and nodded. He cupped Mirenne’s face gently and let his magic gather in his palm to rush over her. Her lips and neck tingled as the damage to them was undone. He pressed a crushing kiss to her lips and rested his brow on hers when he pulled away.
“Don’t think you’re not in for punishment yourself,” he rumbled. “Once we’re home I’m not letting you out of bed for a week.”
She sighed shakily as her blood rushed downward. She both loved and hated when he got like this: wanting to re-stake his claim on her. It was bound to be pleasurable, but she did hate the fact that she likely wouldn’t be able to walk for days afterward.
She pulled back and lightly pushed his face away. She switched the conversation back to Common. “Business first, my love,” reminding him of why he was here in the first place.
They both turned to see Iedhelaran standing with his arms folded, waiting impatiently. The elven man behind him looked distinctly uncomfortable at their display of affection. Mirenne blushed and adjusted her cloak to better cover her lap, oops?
Hahvulon simply strode forward, still carrying her with one arm. He was seemingly unbothered, even amused, at Iedhelaran’s reaction.
“Iedhelaran,” Hahvulon rumbled a curt greeting.
“Dovathur,” Iedhelaran’s voice was strained.
“It seems your forest has gotten a bit peckish of late,” Hahvulon continued. “Might I enter so we may discuss it?”
Iedhelaran sighed and beckoned them closer, “I suppose you had better come in. It was about time for this discussion anyway.”
Invitation granted, Hahvulon carried her across the threshold. Iedhelaran swept his elven companion under his arm with a low, “come along, precious thing.” as he led the way into the castle.
Elganbarad was even more lovely inside than it was at first glance from the outside. The floors were earthen, carpeted by plush moss. The wooden walls were made of living trees and cloaked by ivy and numerous different species of flowers. The very air in the halls seemed to be alive .
Quite happy to be carried along, she watched idly as the flora changed with each hall they passed as Iedhelaran moved deeper into the palace. She noted there was some pattern to the color of the ivy and flowers, but was much too drained to bother deciphering it at present. Iedhelaran stopped at a door in a hall made of what looked to be apple trees with irises sprouting from the walls. The doors silently opened of their own volition and they were all led inside.
She sat up straighter in Hahvulon’s arms as she saw what she thought to be the most beautiful place in this entire domain. They were in a living library, the shelves were made of branches that cradled each book like prized gems. She could not contain her gasp of delight as she beheld the expansive collection.
Iedhelaran spoke as she sat stunned by the possibility of so many books. “Your consort is free to read as she likes until we have finished discussing what is to be done about this unfortunate circumstance .” He sounded more like he would much rather throw them both out by the scruffs of their neck, than allow them to remain within his halls.
Ah, that’s right. Hahvulon had mentioned before that Iedhelaran hated having visitors in his home, almost as much as she hated idiots. But alas, here he was, being forced to play host to an uninvited guest. Mirenne would just have to try and not provoke his ire further, she would leave that to her fea-mir.
“Thank you, Iedhelaran,” She said, pleasantly surprised. “You are a most gracious host.” Well, compared to how he likely treated his other guests.
He nodded, accepting the compliment. “I only ask that you remain within the library. You have caused quite enough disturbance already.”
Rude, but not untrue. Hahvulon let a low growl resonate in his chest at the accusation.
“Of course,” she agreed. “Is there anything else?”
A wave of something crossed his face she could not decipher as his arm tightened around the pale elf at his side. Frustration perhaps?
“You will keep your hands to yourself.”
Ah , possessive rage then. She knew that tone of voice quite well.
She smiled and bowed her head. “I shall be on my best behavior.” She neatly hopped from Hahvulon’s arms and called on the dregs of her magic to gently float to the ground. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
Her fea-mir leaned down to lift her chin and give her a brief kiss of farewell before she sauntered away, deeper into the library. As she left, Iedhelaran waved his hand and a large table grew from the floor. Across its surface was a raised map of Sanrai’s terrain. Four chairs rose from the floor and the archfey settled in to hash things out. This was her favorite part of being consort to an archfey, nearly all the power but with almost none of the responsibility. She was free to vanish into this veritable forest of literature. She would be sure to circle back around to soothe or stoke Hahvulon’s temper if needed as things progressed.
For now though, “how best to find a good book?” She murmured aloud
“You could try asking, that seems to work well enough.” An unfamiliar voice piped up beside her.
With an undignified squeak, she leapt nearly a foot in the air as she flinched away from the pale elf who seemed to have teleported next to her. She huffed and gathered herself.
“Is that how you greet everyone who comes to visit?” She asked sharply, trying to recover from her startle. “If so, I can see why Iedhelaran keeps you around.” Not only was the elf attractive in a way any fey would crave, but if he perfectly matched Iedhelaran’s disdain for company it was no wonder he was here.
“Oh is that why?” The elf laughed at her barb, teeth flashing. They were oddly sharp for one of elvish descent. “Here I thought he only wanted me for my looks.”
Mirenne rolled her eyes and resumed walking toward a shelf. The wood creaked and shifted as she scanned the titles. “I’m sure that’s what caught his eye, but there’s always something to make it stick. You can call me Thuri, by the way. If you’re going to keep pestering me you should at least introduce yourself.” Her gaze landed on a title in Common, Creatures of the Deep: a Bestiary. Promising.
Hahvulon’s frustration seeped across their bond as he continued the discussions with Iedhelaran.
She turned to the pale elf beside her. He seemed to be thinking about something. She raised a brow at him, “Well? Are you going to introduce yourself or are you just that rude?”
“Well no- ye- I mean-” He stuttered, at a loss for words for a moment. “I’m not trying to be rude, mind you. It’s just… I don’t exactly know what to call myself anymore.”
Oh… Oh! This poor elf. He can’t have been in the Feywild for very long at all if he didn’t even have a personal name decided, and Iedhelaran clearly hadn’t informed him of the ways of their world. Where on earth had the archfey plucked him from? Her mind spun, trying to puzzle it out.
Iedhelaran had left the Fewywild several weeks ago. Presumably, that was when Sanrai had decided her teleportation circle and the grove it sat in would make a nice snack.
Cazador mentioned something had been taken from him by Iedhelaran…
She looked closer at the elf. Red eyes, sharp teeth, unnaturally stealthy, and one who clearly hadn’t been in the Feywild long…
Well, the way he lingered on her wounds should have been a dead giveaway. Gods , she must be more tired than she thought.
This must be who the vampire lord was referring to. She almost didn’t spot his vampiric nature at first with how he had walked unharmed through the sun. Probably due to some enchantment of Iedhelaran’s to keep him warded.
“Well,” Mirenne sighed and decided to cut him some slack for being so new to this song and dance, one she found she had little energy for anyway. “In the absence of a name or title to call you, I suppose ‘Fangs’ will have to do.” She smirked. “ If it doesn’t offend, of course.”
The elf she had now dubbed ‘Fangs’ frowned at her words, “That obvious, am I?”
She smiled, shaking her head. “Don’t feel too badly about it. You wear vampirism well, very striking.” She complimented honestly. “It looks far better on you than others I’ve met.”
Fangs looked intrigued, “met many vampires have you?”
“Yes, in fact I had just finished running from one when you and Ieadhelaran found me in the forest.” She gestured to the book she had found. “If you wouldn’t mind grabbing that book for me, I’d be happy to tell you all about it.”
Something in that request put him instantly on guard. “It’s barely above your head,” he said waspishly. “Surely you’re capable of reaching slightly up.”
She tilted her head at him. “Capable? Absolutely. Allowed..?” She lets herself trail off. “I distinctly remember a certain archfey demanding that I keep my hands to myself.”
He sniffed haughtily and muttered, “yes, I suppose he did say that, didn’t he?”
“Seems a fair trade,” she offered. “You get me the book, and I give you a story. What say you? Deal?”
He looked torn between his suspicion and his curiosity for a moment, but her declaration of intent seemed to soothe whatever feathers she had unknowingly ruffled.
“Fine,” he said breezily, as if he’d never been disturbed in the first place.
He reached up to pluck the book she’d indicated from the shelf but kept his eyes on her the whole while, watching like a stray to see what she may do. When the answer to that question turned out to be nothing , he drew the thick tome from the shelf and held it out to her.
She did not take it. That would be placing her hands on something. “Let’s find somewhere to sit, yes?”
‘Fangs’ rolled his eyes and led her down an aisle to a small sitting area near a large window. Sunlight streamed through the window to bathe the soft chairs and low table in golden light. The furniture seemed to be grown directly from the floor, made of living plants like the building itself. She settled herself into a plush seat that would afford her the best angle of light to read by.
Through her bond with Hahvulon, she could feel frustration mounting.
“Put the book on the table, if you please.” She requested politely.
Her vampiric companion dropped the tome on the table in front of her and threw himself on one of the chairs across from her in a comfortable sprawl. “Are you done making me wait or will you actually tell me now?” He said impatiently.
She laughed at his cheek. Normally she found it irritating to be shown such blatant disregard, but from him it was almost refreshing. It felt like trading jabs with her warlock peers. Before they were abducted and slaughtered but a murderous cult, that is. She drew a pen from her pocket and used the handle to adjust the book to her liking. She did not allow her fingers to so much as brush against the book. She used the pen to flip it open to a random page. Aboleths. Such frightening creatures that hailed from the elemental plane of water. An illustration of the tentacled beast took up an entire page.
“An audacious one, aren’t you?” She teased him, watching the accusation slide off him as he grinned.
“Guilty as charged, darling. Now get on with it.”
“Very well… It all started when I noticed some of the warlocks in my circle going missing.”
She launched into a synopsis of the last several weeks of her life. She did not miss the flicker of recognition in his eyes when she mentioned going to Baldur’s Gate. The recognition grew stronger at each location she mentioned. As her tale continued, he began interjecting with little bits of commentary.
“Yes, the guards have always been useless.”
“Ugh, you were staying at the Blushing Mermaid? There are better places, you know?”
His interest only grew as she revealed she’d been looking into cult activity.
“I’d say the city’s gone to the hells, but it was already there if Bhaalists are crawling out of the woodwork.”
His interest turned to wariness as Mirenne told him of her plan to lay a trap.
“Surely you don’t need me to illustrate all the reasons why that was a terrible idea , darling.”
“I was well aware.” She shrugged, “but I did it anyway. Besides, the trap didn’t work out. It caught something, just not what I was looking for.” Her face wrinkled in disgust, as she remembered. “I don’t suppose you’re acquainted with a vampire spawn called Petras?”
The recognition and disdain on his face were an immediate reaction to the name. “Ugh, not him!” ‘Fangs’ scoffed. “I swear, it’s a miracle he’s still alive with the number of times I had to stop myself from throwing him out a window.”
That startled a genuine laugh from Mirenne. She hadn’t even thought of that. How funny it would have been to see the idiot fall to his doom. “Then you’ll be pleased to hear what I did to him!”
“You didn’t kill him did you?” He didn’t sound as if he cared either way.
She would put his concern to rest, regardless. “No! Goodness no.He ruined my night, so I ruined his. Trapping him in a nightmare about drowning, hunted at the bottom of the ocean for a few hours was the least he deserved for putting his hands on me.”
‘Fangs’ sat up straighter at that. “ Petras did all that to your neck? I didn’t think he had it in him.” He said the second part almost to himself.
She shook her head. “No that was actually-”
She cut herself off and hastily rose from her chair as a white-hot bolt of anger shot through her soulbond.
“If you’ll excuse me, I believe my fea-mir needs me.”
Ignoring the snapped, “Now hold on a moment!” She hurried off back to where the archfey were still hashing things out.
The shelves passed in a blur as she sped toward the sound of raised voices. She rounded the last corner to hear Hahvulon snarling, “I don’t care if it’s his favorite hunting spot, it’s only fair you give up an equivalent to what was taken!”
Her beloved was standing over the table, pointing furiously at the map with a clawed finger. It looked much different to when she had left. Entire sections of the map had been illuminated in strips of green, white, and violet light. The new territory lines, she presumed. As things stood now, the violet light was taking up a not insignificant portion of Sanrai’s forest. It reached far beyond where the lines had been drawn last time which was represented by the white line circling the table. It was mildly alarming to see just how far Sanrai had pushed the borders in the short time Iedhelaran had let up on its reins.
She gently wrapped an arm around Hahvulon’s waist as she fit herself under his arm, leaning into his side. The effect was immediate. His boiling temper cooled to a manageable simmer, and his pointing claw was unclenched and pulled back to draw her closer to him.
Once she was satisfied that her fea-mir was not about to jump across the table to fight an equally frustrated Iedhelaran, she spoke to address them both. “And what’s all this shouting about? You’ve had this issue a dozen times before, but you’ve never been like this!”
“ That is because Dovathur has never asked for so much before!” Iedhelaran bites out and gestures sharply to the map. “Look at how much he demands to take!”
She studied the map closer and saw that he indeed, spoke true. Large swathes of the forest were burning purple.
She sighed, looks like it was up to her to mediate. Honestly , it was like neither of them had ever heard of the word ‘compromise’. She was teaching far too many lessons today.
“How about this? You bring Sanrai back to where it was the last time the lines were drawn, that seemed to satisfy you both well enough in the past.” She reaches out with sputtering magic to draw a faint blue line outside of the white border. “Dovahthur and I can draw a line here in our domain so that Sanrai will know when it’s gone too far. It couldn’t eat my runes in the circle so it stands to reason a border drawn with them would be just as resistant to the forest’s appetite.”
She sags against Hahvulon, drained. She really had used too much magic today. Her soulmate picked up where she left off. “Anytime the border is stretched too far, you can just pull Sanrai back to the previously agreed upon point. Does that sound reasonable?”
Hahvulon lifted her to sit in his arms once again as Iedhelaran considered their proposal. She sank into his warmth and let her eyes fall half-closed.
“Very well,” Iedhelaran eventually relented. “I suppose that’s the best it’s going to get.” There was a wild surge of magic from him as he spoke a single word in Sylvan, “RETURN” .
With an earth-shuddering groan, the whole domain seemed to shift as they watched the table between them folded into itself to reflect the current state of Sanrai until its edges were perfectly aligned with the white lines. Iedhelaran seemed to shudder with the change and shook it off with a sharp shake of his head.
Hahvulon pressed a kiss to her temple and rumbled quietly, “why have we never tried that before?” He chuffed a laugh into he hair, “it seems so much simpler than having to go through this whole ordeal each time.”
“Because, my love,” she chuckles tiredly, letting her eyes slip fully closed. “ Someone insisted that I stay out of these meetings in the past. A foolish choice it seems now, hm?”
He grumbled a token complaint but took her point.
Iedhelaran’s voice stirred her from her stupor. “Come along, precious thing. We’ll need to see our guests off.”
Mirenne cracked her eyes open to see the white-haired vampire come out from behind a shelf where he had presumably been hiding. Iedhelaran drew him to his side and began leading the way out of the library.
Red eyes kept flicking back to her as they walked down the halls.
She laughed softly, “don’t you worry, Fangs. I’ll finish the story the next time we see each other.”
He huffed haughtily, “I’ll hold you to that.”
Such a prickly fellow. Mirenne thought fondly. “You had better have a name picked out by then,” she warned.
He scoffed and tossed his head, “I’m disappointed that you think to doubt me.”
She smiled and let herself be rocked into a stupor in her beloved’s arms as he strode through Elganbarad’s halls. She felt the air shift and become warmer as they exited into the sunlight. A bit more walking and she guessed they were now outside the gates.
Iedhelaran called out to them in Sylvan, “Farewell Dovathur and Thuri, until next we meet.”
Mirenne locked eyes with the pale elf at his side as Hahvulon’s magic rose around them. “Until next we meet,” she said in Common.
The magic surged, and they were gone.