literature

Strikin pg.11

Deviation Actions

Published: Jan 12, 2012

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Literature Text

     "He's Faye, like us," He responded. "Only, he's not Seeilie."

     "He's of the Night Court then?" She asked. "I thought the last of them died with Lucien?"

     "No, he's not Unseeilie either, he's…something different…he's both."

     "Both?" She wondered. "How is that possible?"


     "I'm not sure in his case," he told her, "but most often it was a result of rape of war-time prisoners or other types of unwilling intercourse. However, in the few cases the two fae actually did love each other, but with the court distinctions it was highly unusual."

     "You ok girlie?" Asked a low, gruff voice from behind them.

     "Yes Marcus, I'm ok now, thank you." She answered.

     "Good," Marcus said. "Vincent feels terrible, he never meant to hurt you, but he had every right to defend himself. You, on the other hand, had no right to attack my step-son. We have a different legal system here and ideals such as pride and honor won't keep you from imprisonment here. I don't like talking to you like a child Thyne, please understand that, but things here work differently."

     "I am aware of this Marcus," she began. "But the Oath of Purity states that all sired by a Seeilie-Unseeilie union must be put to death! By that oath—"

     "Then it is by that same oath that you shall die as well!" Marcus roared, hauling her up out of her chair by her shirt and lifting her a good seven inches off the ground to hold her at eye level. "Or do you forget who you are? Have you worn the cloak of Seeilie-hood so long you mistake it for your own skin? And on top of that you dare use the old oaths as justification for a murder committed out of jealousy and hubris. Do not make me shame you in front of your brother any more than I already have, girl. I will not enjoy it."

     "Marcus, put my sister down…now." Atticus said, finally finding his voice. "I'd rather not spill a friend's blood, but I will if necessary."

     Thyne withered under the force of the large man's words as much as she did under his vice-like grip. Her leg was throbbing and she felt like a scared child. She knew he was right, he was always right; he knew her better than she knew herself.

     "I-I'm sorry." She mumbled as he set her back into the chair.
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