Ashes of Honor, part 01/
Oct. 10th, 2017 12:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowandsnarkThe Court of Cats, despite what one might assume from the name, is not a body that typically calls for mediation in disputes. There are certainly traditions defining the protocols, but as a rule, cats and cait sidhe settle matters with tooth and claw before ever deigning to speak before an audience or mediator. Tonight, Tybalt wishes the two parties before him had followed the rule and not been the exception.
"So, allow me to be certain I understand clearly the purpose of your coming before me," he drawls in his most patient, yet put upon voice. "You both have separated and no longer bed together. Regardless of the cause," here Tybalt arched an eyebrow at the father before him whose indiscretions ended things, "your time as a pair has ended? Yet there is a child to complicate matters, and neither of you can come to an agreement as to the treatment or residency of the child?"
"No sire," the father answers while the mother scowls at the man.
She, at least, Tybalt thinks, has the forethought to be shamed by this farce. If Tybalt didn't know better, he'd think this was another feint by Samson to needle at his rule. Yes, any within the Court of Cats had the right of mediation by the King or Queen, but typically to do so was assumed to be a sign of weakness.
"And you both agree to my ruling?" A nod from the father, followed by a reluctant one by the mother.
Tybalt sighs and is about to speak when he catches the scent of pepper and burning paper. Turning, he sees Raj stepping from the shadows near the chair that is currently serving as Tybalt's throne. Looking closer, Tybalt notices the tension in the young prince's fingers and lips. A spike of worry stabs Tybalt but he cannot act upon it now.
Returning to the petitioners, he reconsiders his decision and words. They, and the Court, wait to see what the king will do in this and Tybalt can't help but wonder how many of them expect him to rule as one of the Divided Courts. Leaning back against his seat and steepling his fingers, he speaks. "Very well. Since you cannot settle this matter between you, the child is now my ward. You two shall be responsible for her care and feeding, but I will supply any needs you are unable to provide."
The father looked alternatingly pleased and shamed by this, while the mother's scowl deepens. She at least catches the jab at her strength as a provider. "And do trust that I shall have my eye on the child and will take it as a personal attack should I discover any mistreatment. When the child is of an age to decide, she shall pick which parent is hers. I advise you to raise her wisely and fairly. Furthermore, I shall visit the child as I deign. You would do well to divide the time she spends between you, for I will be visiting you both as the mood takes me."
"But what of when we need to hunt?" the father sputters.
"A perfect time to teach then." The father looks away and Tybalt can't resist the chance at a strike. "If the responsibility is too much for you, then perhaps you should have considered such things before deciding to have a child." The man's nostrils flare, finally feeling shame in this, but Tybalt turns from him to gauge the mother's reaction. She is displeased at the arrangement, but knows better than to challenge the rulings. He doubts he'll ever need to visit her and the child beyond the sake of appearances.
The matter closed, Tybalt stands and gestures for Raj to follow him, stepping through the shadows to his private chambers. As the light fades, Tybalt just catches Samson's glare of outrage. Inwardly, Tybalt sighs. He'll have to take care of Samson once whatever danger Toby had caught herself into this time was past.
"What news, nephew?"
"Toby is out late and Quentin is working himself into a frenzy. I thought it best we get involved before he injures himself." Raj sniffs as if he weren't just as worried.
"That certainly wouldn't do now, would it?"
"So, allow me to be certain I understand clearly the purpose of your coming before me," he drawls in his most patient, yet put upon voice. "You both have separated and no longer bed together. Regardless of the cause," here Tybalt arched an eyebrow at the father before him whose indiscretions ended things, "your time as a pair has ended? Yet there is a child to complicate matters, and neither of you can come to an agreement as to the treatment or residency of the child?"
"No sire," the father answers while the mother scowls at the man.
She, at least, Tybalt thinks, has the forethought to be shamed by this farce. If Tybalt didn't know better, he'd think this was another feint by Samson to needle at his rule. Yes, any within the Court of Cats had the right of mediation by the King or Queen, but typically to do so was assumed to be a sign of weakness.
"And you both agree to my ruling?" A nod from the father, followed by a reluctant one by the mother.
Tybalt sighs and is about to speak when he catches the scent of pepper and burning paper. Turning, he sees Raj stepping from the shadows near the chair that is currently serving as Tybalt's throne. Looking closer, Tybalt notices the tension in the young prince's fingers and lips. A spike of worry stabs Tybalt but he cannot act upon it now.
Returning to the petitioners, he reconsiders his decision and words. They, and the Court, wait to see what the king will do in this and Tybalt can't help but wonder how many of them expect him to rule as one of the Divided Courts. Leaning back against his seat and steepling his fingers, he speaks. "Very well. Since you cannot settle this matter between you, the child is now my ward. You two shall be responsible for her care and feeding, but I will supply any needs you are unable to provide."
The father looked alternatingly pleased and shamed by this, while the mother's scowl deepens. She at least catches the jab at her strength as a provider. "And do trust that I shall have my eye on the child and will take it as a personal attack should I discover any mistreatment. When the child is of an age to decide, she shall pick which parent is hers. I advise you to raise her wisely and fairly. Furthermore, I shall visit the child as I deign. You would do well to divide the time she spends between you, for I will be visiting you both as the mood takes me."
"But what of when we need to hunt?" the father sputters.
"A perfect time to teach then." The father looks away and Tybalt can't resist the chance at a strike. "If the responsibility is too much for you, then perhaps you should have considered such things before deciding to have a child." The man's nostrils flare, finally feeling shame in this, but Tybalt turns from him to gauge the mother's reaction. She is displeased at the arrangement, but knows better than to challenge the rulings. He doubts he'll ever need to visit her and the child beyond the sake of appearances.
The matter closed, Tybalt stands and gestures for Raj to follow him, stepping through the shadows to his private chambers. As the light fades, Tybalt just catches Samson's glare of outrage. Inwardly, Tybalt sighs. He'll have to take care of Samson once whatever danger Toby had caught herself into this time was past.
"What news, nephew?"
"Toby is out late and Quentin is working himself into a frenzy. I thought it best we get involved before he injures himself." Raj sniffs as if he weren't just as worried.
"That certainly wouldn't do now, would it?"
no subject
Date: 2017-10-11 06:33 pm (UTC)And, as was usual, he found her just in time.
She lay on the ground surrounded by a ground of young changelings. The smell of her blood and the gunpowder from one of their guns hit Tybalt hard. Teeth growing sharp and eyes glowing, he reached for the one speaking; a candela.
"She didn't go down. Shoot her again. I want to see her--URK" she managed before Tybalt's hand grasped her by the throat and lifted her into the air.
"Have we reached the point where my intervention will not get me shouted at for being a meddling tomcat who doesn't respect the boundaries of others?" he asked as he stepped out of the shadows. "I ask to be polite, you realize. There's no way I'm walking away."
"Hi, Tybalt," Toby said, a hand clutching her shoulder where she'd been shot. "Good to see you, too."
Confused and disconcerted at Tybalt's appearance and the casual conversation, one of the remaining changelings shot Toby twice more before they all scattered. Tybalt flung the candela away, forgetting her presence as Toby paled and slunk further down the dirty wall of the alley.
"October!" He called out as he lunged to catch her, his heart frozen with fear and longing. "Toby. Toby? Toby, don't you do this. Don't die. Please. I can't allow...you wouldn't dare..."
"I'm fine," she whispered, feeling her magic rise to heal the wounds. The bullets had passed through her, so the magic shouldn't take too long to heal her...right? "Go after them."
"If you think I'm going to leave you, you're--"
"Right. I'm right."
He could smell the cut grass and copper scent of her magic and knew she was on her way to healing. He also knew she was right, but he'd be damned if he liked the idea. "Fine," he spat, turned, and raced into the dark after the fools to have the temerity to harm his little fish.
He returned from his errand of vigilantism and vengeance somewhat mollified. He'd left them their lives, but they would think twice before daring to attack Toby or selling goblin fruit in his city again.
Unfortunately, Toby was no longer where he'd left her and in looking about for a clue as to the means of her disappearance, he noticed her in the back of a mortal constabulary's vehicle.
Sighing, Tybalt reached for the shadows and opened a road to Toby's home. He needed to tell the others Toby was safe and that someone should go to the police to collect her. On second though, he would volunteer for the task. He and Toby were sorely overdue a conversation about a great many things, not the least of which was where their relationship stood.
no subject
Date: 2017-10-11 06:49 pm (UTC)The press of mortal bodies was its own torment as well, though the cait sidhe tended to spend more time with the mortals than other pure blood fae. Still, the fellow who insisted on cleaning his toe nails and the lady who felt Shakespeare should be an opera, and was singing so off key it should count as assault, did little for his patience.
Tybalt half-wished he had one of those cellphones merely to have the excuse to call May or Quentin with an update. Seeing as how May had been the one to send him here though, it would put lie to the excuse, making the gesture pointless and shameful. Not that he had a cellphone to use in the first place.
Finally Toby was there, and alive and well, and, oh sweet Maeve, they could leave this place now.