[Autumn] Vivrenyde

The great, scarlet tree of Vivrenyde greeted Isolde from afar with its brilliant colors. Such shades were not seen in the winter territories often. If Isolde took a liking to it, there was absolutely no sign of it on her face. This was typical of many winter fae and many knew it. The Queen, however young and new to her position, was certainly no exception.

Accompanying her were two guards: the first was a dullahan wearing heavy armor emblazoned with the blue and white colors of their court. His face was gnarly, mouth extending past where a human's should have, with fangs so large they grew past the boundaries of his lips and displayed themselves. His head was strapped to his saddle of his dark steed by his long, silvery hair. On his hip coiled a whip made from the spine of some deceased creature.

The second flew above in the form of an snowy owl, silently contemplating the path ahead. No one else accompanied the Winter Queen, who left a wintery trail from the Rumbling Pines.

While not as extravagant as the the one she wore into the meeting with the Tyrant, the dress she wore was masterfully crafted. It clung to her body with no bustle lifting the back, flaring out at her thighs with a train that tumbled along the ground like water in a creek. A pattern that represented wary eyes adorned her bodice, and every once in a while, at the corner of one’s vision, it seemed as though they were looking around or swiveling in their sockets to stare.

As they approached the door of Vivrenyde, Isolde was given access within with much more ease than she was expecting. The trio passed through without trouble, and with a little inquiry, began their trek to find Hayzea.

Soon, they came to a small house that none of the winter fae were expecting to come upon. No glances were exchanged, though a sense of confusion passed between them. After a moment’s hesitation, Isolde rose her hand and knocked.

The Queen of the Winter House gazed emptily down at the petite figure before her. "Queen Hayzea is the one who called upon me," she criticized. "I am here to respond to her summons. Does she reside here?"

When she was invited inside, Isolde followed the small fae, holding up a hand to the dullahan to stand at the door. The owl, however, flew right in and perched on the fae queen’s shoulder. As they approached Hayzea and the older fae woman, Isolde gave the slightest curtsey. She was royalty, sure, but this was not her home, nor was it her territory. Manners were ever so important. Even the crown’s aura was contained, as to not disturb those around her.

"Yes," replied the pale queen to the auburn one. "I do remember her. Hello again, Tenanye. It has been a year since our last meeting. Perhaps more.”

Her attention turned towards the autumn ruler, stoically staring at the other fae. “You have called upon me, Hayzea, Queen of Autumn. For what occasion have I been summoned?”

The owl on Isolde’s shoulder watched with bright blue eyes, surveying the home they had entered, listening intently to the conversation.

Tap, tap...

Tap tap tap tap...

...

TaptaptaptaptapTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP

Something was incessantly tapping on the door to no end. It sounded more like a hard beak upon the wooden door.

A sudden gust of wind would blast right through the cozy little abode, curling and fading into a shower of feathers that would begin to blink out of existence as they fluttered and landed gently on the floor behind the Winter Queen, revealing the young Fae with the owl mimic mask tugged down to cover her face. The eyes in the mask settled on both women of court in silence, watching with an unseen expression.

Both Isolde and the bird upon her shoulder turned to stare at the owl-masked fae that entered. The ice queen lifted her chin in acknowledgment. "Salutations," she greeted her, "General Savre."

When the Winter Queen turned her attention back to Hayzea, the owl upon her shoulder kept her glowing blue eyes onto Savre.

"Queen Hayzea of House Autumn, the relations between us have been cordial at best, but nothing more. I understand your disdain for the Summer court, as I share the sentiment, but we are not in a position to make decisions due to our nature. Our display at the Court of Gold was embarrassment within the eyes of the Tyrant. I am not adverse to joining you, but I will require more encouragement."

Savre didn't pay much mind to those present, nobility or not. Her attention was on the owl that was continuing to stare at her. The mask came up to reveal her face, watching the animal with a rather solemn stare. She would creep closer to the Winter Queen and stand up on tip toe to get closer to the bird - staring it directly in the eyes with a sense of serene understanding. Though, of what was anyone's guess.

"No, not of overthrowing the Tyrant. Nor of pleasing him. But of winning this war among the Houses."

"You believe this is a war that can be won?" Isolde asked Hayzea. "Ambitious."

The Winter Queen had certainly been gearing up for war, and she certainly wanted an upper hand, but the war between the fae had not once ceased until the Tyrant came along. One had never dominated another since the dawn of the courts. There were times when one had an upper hand as the seasons churned, but there were no winners. Not truly.

Chirping, the owl fluffed its feathers as it was pet. What an odd thing.