Fall Of The Abyss

If the birds knew it was a different day coming to pass, they never let on about it. They woke as any morning with their trills and warbles to wake Marleen, the pale haired woman watching the small birds in the ornate, wooden cage. She prod at one of the birds with a small branch, the white finch stepping upon the offered perch as she bounced the stick softly, until it flew to its nest. "Would that I could release you if all goes as expected and you would survive..." She said, aware that these birds were not native and would not survive a winter if freed. Marleen finished her breakfast of mainly fruit, and dressed with the aid of her lady-in-waiting shortly after, intent to search out her mother and father. If there was nothing else needed to spy the kind of day it would be, their moods would tell all. The Eilaen Emperor was an aged man, matured greatly. His features showed the wear of time; brow heavy, eyes set deep and within, pale blue eyes, grayed with a mind addled. The Empress was of Abysal descent, and while she looked incapable of bearing the fair haired daughter she had, Marleen was as ethereal looking as her father. This pleased Emperor Marcus as his bias toward the Abyssean kingdom was as vast as his own empire- and just a guarded. That Marleen bore clear lineage to none other than Marcus himself, his pernicious moods had been spared, the Empress knowing a measure of peace for this act of loyalty. However of late that mercurial nature of her father's had begun to touch upon the erratic more and more. Marleen shared in that anxiety, and for similar reasons, as hers was the generation to wed into the abyss. "Into the abyss..." Marleen mulled over the phrase used by many as a curse, as so it felt. In five weeks, the five year mourning period for the highest ranking, eligible male of The Abyssean Kingdom ended: King Erran. Had it not been for the late Abysal Queen's death, Marleen would have married a nobleman or minister with much less grief. That was not the case when Marleen came of age 7 months before Elore's death, opening the royal wedding to take her original engagement's place... the deathly calm ire of Emperor Marcus was short lived afterwards. Needless to say, King Marcus' distrust and paranoia of anything related to the Abyss and by extention King Erran, seeped into everyday life, as Marleen watched two serving girls flee down the hall, away from her father's quarters. Their panicked expression and pale faces information enough to know The Emperor was is need of his daughter to quell his temper. Stepping up to the door, Marleen leaned against the engraved, black lacquered wood. "Father, I've come to see you." Her voice was soft, a catered tone to implore upon his paternal instincts in a more constructive and conducive mood. He answered in a dark tone after a silence. "Come in." Marcus, King of the Eilaen Empire sat at a table bearing breakfast, twice us much as a man could eat, and greatly untouched. His ancestors had ensured their descendants would reign over a vast region that only ended its conquest and war when it could no longer keep its boarders. They had eventually ceded back lands in the form of peace treaties, many of which still paid dues and homage... Part of Marcus growing fears of The Abyssean Kingdom being that it had long ago grown independent completely and was no longer sovereign state to be ruled; or restricted. "You've not eaten... its not good for you to avoid meals." Marleen said, coming up close to see his haggard appearance and stresses weighing upon him. "Sit." Was his only response, tone almost curt before giving way to a sigh. "You are in a better mood than I would think... do you not take notice of the position you are in, daughter? She was careful in her response, not wishing to lay her worries on a grieving father further. "I worry. I know enough to feel as you do, but the cost of peace is long established... I would not wish to be the reason it would crumble apart... Wish father than Erran is not of blood descent, and removed from much of your worries about the Abysal throne." Her eyes turned to him, a weak constitution a trigger for his moods. "He was wed to that Abysal wife of his and she was of blood... he is no less dangerous for being taught and informed of the royals in that wretched place... perhaps more so." His tone was icy, lips pursed thin. Those gray/blue eyes harsh, but not cruel. "Then it is all well and good I am informed... be it that having your daughter set on that throne brings stability and a strong reminder to keep the peace." Marleen responded, a positive note hopefully to warm her father as well as sooth his mood. "I am the descent of Eilean blood and my offspring heir of its throne... should I bear any child, they are due this throne and so our hold remains strong... have faith in the child you have entrusted much." His features softened slightly, but there was a wariness that never eased also hidden in those eyes. It may well be his daughter's child would reign if he die without another heir... or leave the Empress as Queen Regent. Unacceptable. "-Will have to be." He said, words tart and clipped as he tossed a letter at her. She flinched in surprise, fumbling to catch the it. "Read it-" His tone was dark and usually one saved for his advisors and guards. The letter bore a broken wax seal, black as wet ink and bearing the emblazoned sigil of Abyssean royalty. To the Eilaen Emperor in regards to the awaited Abysal Consort, It has been received that Her Majesty Marleen has made mention of being in need of her own lady-in-waiting. Be assured that no such luxury will she lack, provided by our kingdoms most diligent aids upon her arrival. No such additional servants will be necessary during her ladyships month long engagement before the nuptials take place. May this notice ease the minds of those concerned that once she arrives, Consort Marleen will be taken care of as demands her station. The Abysal throne is pleased to fulfill its duty therein. Respectfully, Erran Tulorn, King of the Abyss. Marleen read the letter twice... concern knotting her stomach. "Tell me what you think, daughter mine?" The words touched with mocking irritation causing her to bristle, and she swallowed uncomfortably. "I will be going alone, with a contingency of guards only... making me reliant on Abyssean hospitality. They seek- to leave me without connection during the engagement period before being bound to Abyssal rule." She explained in disconnect. She had not expected having her own lady-in-waiting from Eilea would be denied. It was not common, but also not unheard of... that the request was so "politely" refused seemed not unlike prodding of a sore spot to annoy and aggravate. "And how does your mind feel now, knowing you will be at the mercy of "the abyss", hmm?" Marcus stood with nearly a snarl. He did not like having to send his daughter to that place at all let alone without someone loyal to bring word, secretly if necessary. "Your soon to be husband, is taking you from your home and family, all but cutting you off and you feel even a Queen's station will prevent ruin?" He looked at Marleen darkly. "It protects you from nothing..." Emperor Marcus' mind had strayed from its initial track, looking at his daughter, but seeing when his "Queen" arrived ages ago. V'ana had been 8 years younger than he and she was a spitting image of the Abyssean royal family. Long black hair, eyes not unlike the abyss itself... he would learn years later the threat she posed, but not too late. "Father... no title beyond "daughter" will be protection enough. I trust in you and my motherland that my reign will be received well, whether by luck, or threat of reprisal." She sat with a touch of the arrogant air few without power could honestly come back, and her reliance on him soothed him, as did her loyalty. "You may become a Queen to another kingdom, but my daughter you remain. Husband's, royal or no, come and go, but blood... is not so easily swayed." Marleen let out a low breath, seeing his emotions coming under control, which was a small consolation. She now had to bare the heavy burden of only a weeks time in true comfort and safety. Her Abyssal husband to be might refuse her the simple pleasure of her own people to rely on, but she was not without methods her own. It was much wiser to pave a path often trod, and the Abyssal King had instead laid loose gravel down... Marleen pray he did not complain that the journey would be bumpy, caused by his own hand.