illicit affairs {marcellus}

[Ayianna Belle Sivané]

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Marcellus Yong

441 words

Music

Outfit

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That's the thing about illict affairs [break]
They're born from just one single glance.

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For a place that had been her home for years, the palace never felt familiar to Ayianna. Never comfortable. It wasn't a safe place. It was a place of performance and walls and rules and procedure, and she could never find it in herself to become accustomed to them in a way that they were anything but oppressive. Was this how mortals felt? [break][break]

Mortals in the palace were mostly glamoured. Mostly servants. She tried to be kind to them. Ambrose didn't. She wasn't around him enough to know more of his secrets than was really just unspoken common knowledge, but his casual cruelty still stung her. Still pricked at her edges. Had the dice rolled differently, she could have been one of those glamour servants. [break][break]

As it was, she was still trapped. The cage was just quite elaborate. The walls were just gilded over. [break][break]

No one here understood the peculiar sort of longing she felt-- longing for something she would never have, shame for longing at all. She was supposed to be happy. She had been told again and again how lucky she was. But she stepped outside and felt the cool breeze and watched the flowers move to a rhythm she once understood and she didn't feel anything but hollow. Not lucky at all. [break][break]

The fae made their own fate anyway.  [break][break]

Ambrose spoke more past her than anything. Why should he speak to her when she was of so little consequence. Fae didn't accept marriage as anything other than a deal, and she had already gotten more than she bargained for in more ways than one. If she bore an heir, he could accept it or not. His brother was a perfect example of how bastards ruined or solidified a reign's security. A fully-fae heir would be better for him than her tainted blood. She was merely a symbol, a golden icon. A picture to the nymphs of harmony so long as they didn't argue or fight back in any way. She knew perfectly well what she was, and she would never be able to show it. [break][break]

Cherry blossoms grew over her dress like they used to grow on the throne. Now it was shriveled and withered. Ambrose paced and snapped and raged. Maeryn watched with dead eyes, wrapping power tighter and tighter into her hands. No one remembered Ayianna. And it might make her a bad wife or a bad faerie to wonder what would happen if that mortal girl won, to want anything but what she had watched Maeryn go through, but she had never been either of those things. She wouldn't start now. Nymphs couldn't lie either. [break][break]
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[Marcellus Yong]

Ayianna Belle Sivané

Note: I'll try to do the template thing you said to do later. Hope this is ok!

Marcellus considered himself to be a simple fae. It didn't truly take much to please him. Give him beauty in his surroundings and give him a purpose and he was content with his lot in life. His mind didn't drift to much else. He focused almost solely on the beauty and purpose in the world of architecture. To think, some of these structures and buildings had been made by fae hands just like his own. It gave him hope. It gave him purpose. He wanted to take the ordinary and make it beautiful. He wanted others to see the beautiful things he could make. He wanted them to love those things. He wanted them to love him.

As content as he was, deep down, Marcellus was lonely. A deep, piercing loneliness that consumed his every thought. His work and studies on architecture were the only things that distracted him, due to the sheer amount of focus he devoted to the craft. Even so, he wanted to be around other people. Other fae. But it was just so hard. Other fae found him odd. With the way he would look at them. With the way he spoke. He had been called rude many times. He didn't see how he was being rude. One of his sisters had said he lacked social awareness. He supposed that he may. 

Even now, studying far from his home in another castle, he was lonely. It was a shame; he was just as lonely as he had been in his own home. However, he did have his teacher. His teacher understood him, even if he thought Marcellus to be odd. However, it was worth it. The structures of the castle were very interesting. He was enjoying his time, despite his feelings.

Walks around the castle were common for him. There were so many small details that he found another new aspect on nearly every walk. That was what he did now. Walking the halls with his hands clasped behind his back, peering at the details of the castle's architecture. However, something else caught his eye. Something that was not part of the castle. Something... no, someone, that stood out.

He peered at the girl in the dress made of blossoms. She was so colorful. Like an art piece. A living, breathing, walking art piece. Interesting. "Hello," he greeted her, walking up behind her. In the back of his mind, he remembered his sister's words about doing that. It scares people, she had said.

[Ayianna Belle Sivané]

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Marcellus Yong

441 words

Music

Outfit

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That's the thing about illict affairs [break]
They're born from just one single glance.

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Ayianna jumped back, startling like a small bird. She wasn’t expecting anyone to interrupt her. She wasn’t expecting anything at all. She knew that expectations could be disappointed and hopes dashed, and she was tired of stitching herself back together. [break][break]

This is how it was and how it would be. She didn’t have the cushioning of eternity or the swift promises of death. She would wake up with a crown as heavy as a shroud and she would never let herself break. Sometimes, she watched the Queen Mother and wondered. She wondered if this was what Maeryn would have chosen. She wondered if she loved the High King or the power or the glitter. She wondered at a lot of things. That was what nymphs were built for— wondering and wandering.  [break][break]

Not this. She looked up at this stranger with half-moon eyes. His eyes were full moons, deep, dark, the kind of thing you could get lost in. She wanted to get lost. [break][break]

”Hello?” she said curiously. She didn’t really know what to say to a stranger with moon eyes and horns. He looked more monstrous than any fae she had met before. She didn’t really know why she interested him at all. She felt like a flower, quivering in the wind. A willow bending to nature’s whims.  [break]
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[Marcellus Yong]

Ayianna Belle Sivané

Marcellus leaned back, not having intended to startle her. He supposed his sister had been right in saying that walking up behind someone was sure to startle them. Yet, he was sure she would have heard his footsteps. She must have been deep in thought. Ah, that must have been it. It was an understandable explanation, as he often found himself deep in his thoughts as well. 

"Your dress is very pretty." A fact, as simple as that. "Did you make it? Or where did you get it?" It was practically a piece of art. And art interested Marcellus. His eyes flicked to her dark blue hair. Beautiful. She herself was also practically a work of art. He wanted to admire her freely, but he knew his staring gaze would unsettle her. He did not wish to scare this beautiful girl off. His eyes met hers, bending slightly to meet her eyes better. He did not want to intimidate her. The rings on his horns sparkled in the light, and a soft smile graced his lips.

[Ayianna Belle Sivané]

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Marcellus Yong

434 words

Music

Outfit

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That's the thing about illict affairs [break]
They're born from just one single glance.

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Ayianna blinked once, twice. This was a curious world, with curious people and curious customs. This was a world of curiosity and curiosities. If you weren't interesting, you might as well be dead. The fae couldn't die, but they could fade. Fade into obscurity or fade into the dark. Being boring was their greatest crime. When she held this in her mind, the revels and the drinks made sense. It made sense, the flashing lights and extravagance. It made sense, the dramatics in their lives and the dramatics in their deaths. She wasn't built for extravagance, and irony on irony, the high king had died in a delightfully common way.  [break][break]

Poisoned wine. Like any king with a lazy storyteller. He had not gone out in battle-- his succession was not rooted in stone. Instead, a puddle of wine and a common flower was his undoing. She found it ironic, though she was grateful, that no one had looked at her. She hadn't killed him, of course, but she was the best florist in the palace. It was in her blood.  [break][break]

What else was in her blood? It was too much of what she thought about. She had to remind herself of her culture or someone would take it away. They were already trying. If she had been raised as a nymph-- or raised herself-- if she had grown up on grassy slope and nighttime dances-- maybe then she would be able to smile at this stranger. Maybe she would think about taking him to bed as flippantly as her ancestors had. Technically, she could. Ambrose had bigger things to worry about than her, and if she honestly thought he had been faithfully to her, she was lying to herself. But it would be complicated, and she didn't need more complicating factors in her life. [break][break]

He was still talking. She supposed that some people would have been ashamed by the way she was thinking, but she was thinking in terms of survival. She was thinking the way she always had. He was lovely, but it meant nothing, and it wouldn't mean anything. Like pressed paper flowers that fell apart when you touched them.
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"I didn't." she said, folding the fabric flowers between her hands, looking down. "I helped design it, but the castle has tailors." She wondered what his angle was. Was he really curious or did he just want prestige? He could probably just go after Ambrose, then. Or even one of the siblings. Theren were curious people everywhere, curious every sense of the word. She was still learning how to navigate it. 
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[Marcellus Yong]

Ayianna Belle Sivané

"Well, I believe you did a good job designing it then. Do you have an interest in art or anything of the sort?" he asked, gazing at the fabric flowers she folded with her fingertips. She was graceful, beautiful. Ethereal, in a way. Though many things in this world seemed to be. But that was just the word; seemed. This world of theirs was dark and stained with murder and betrayal, heartbreak and torture. Sometimes the most beautiful things were the deadliest of all.

But with this girl, it didn't seem to be that way. Not out for blood, for poison, for death. She seemed delightfully harmless. He only hoped his intuition wasn't failing him. As much as he thought himself to be rather smart, he knew his strength was in architecture and art. Not the complicated, twisted art of interacting and decoding people. The fey were always so much more than they seemed. He only hoped what was in her heart was something good. Even so, he'd rarely gotten this far in a conversation not about architecture. Or gargoyles. Oh, he loved gargoyles. Not grotesques. Not to be confused with gargoyles, because they were very different. See, the gargoyles-

He was getting off track. He blinked, setting his mind right so he could have a proper conversation with this girl. "I apologize, I didn't introduce myself. I am Marcellus Yong, an apprentice in the field of architecture. Who may you be, if I may have the delight of knowing?"

[Ayianna Belle Sivané]

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Marcellus Yong

412 words

Music

Outfit

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That's the thing about illict affairs [break]
They're born from just one single glance.

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Curiouser and curiouser, she thought dimly, which didn’t really make sense at all, because everything here was curious. That was just the way it was, but it was odd that he knew so little. Perhaps he was one of the Undersea fae. The wide-eyed way he looked at everything suggested it, like he was a creature unused to sunlight. She felt a bit the same way, but instead of being unused to sunlight, she was withering from the lack of it. 

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”It’s for my wedding,” she said, tilting her head, unsure of whether this was a genuine question. Whatever he was, they were similar enough, treating this conversation like it was something to be danced around. Always being careful not to walk into danger. ”Well, not this dress. But the designs I’m working on.” She hesitated. She wasn’t really answering the question at all. But she didn’t care about dress designs or symbols or weddings or ceremonies. She cared about flowers and she tried to fit them into everything she could. She wanted to hold on to home. 

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”I like gardening.” she said. ”But of course I am preparing for my own wedding.” she added quickly, not wanting to sound dismissive. She never said it interested her. She just said she was doing it. She wasn’t sure she could say it interested her. 

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”Ayianna Sivane” she said, and she knew that this wouldn’t last at all, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she was Ayianna Enigma, before she wasn’t a lady or countess at all, but she was the queen. Queen Consort or not, it was an enormous amount of responsibility that she never truly asked for. That, of course, didn’t matter. ”Countess of the High Court and future Queen Consort to his majesty, Ambrose Enigma.” She wouldn’t be Sivane for long at all. Even in her introductions she closed the over the name like it was a blemish. 

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The title came with too much grandeur and it came to her far too easily. There was no comfort in the name Sivane now and there wouldn’t be later. If she had been left alone, she would have just been Ayianna, Ayianna of the valley or Ayianna of the trees, and she would have been free to set her own definitions. She felt like the multiplicities of titles showed exactly the problem she faced every day: what was supposed to be a privilege was really just a prison. 

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[Marcellus Yong]

Ayianna Belle Sivané

Marcellus, while observant in the area of architecture and his other interests, was oblivious to the feelings and features of people the majority of the time. It made it hard in social interactions such as these. But, from what he could tell and the fact that she had yet to run away from him, she was alright with this conversation. That much he counted as victory.

He considered the dress again. So she was preparing designs for her wedding? She seemed rather young still, but then again, he had never been the best judge of a fae's age. And if she was high in nobility and influence, any sort of traditions regarding marriage would be out the window. Even he wondered, in the back of his mind, what marriage would be like. If it was anything like the mortal stories he had gotten his hands on. He wouldn't know. His mother never married his father, as per the tradition of the Undersea queens. He didn't even know his father. Sometimes, it hurt. Sometimes he wished he did, wondering if his father was anything like him. 

If he had to guess, her wedding was an arrangement. The other option, being the less likely one in his mind, would be that she simply found the perfect person to marry, and wasted no time. But she did not carry herself as one who was that head over heels. But he wouldn't ask. He could nearly hear his sister's voice in his mind, telling him how rude that could be.

She didn't quite answer his question, but he didn't press. That, he knew, could be rude of him. "Gardening? That sounds lovely. That is among my favorite parts of being on land. The greenery and flowers are so vastly different to those in the Undersea. I have never been good with plants, but I respect your interest. My interest and skill lies in architecture. The Courts all have such interesting architecture..."

He blinked when she introduced herself. Royalty, in a way. In a way would matter, unlike his own royal status. He was indifferent to the lack of importance he held as an Undersea prince, hence him not introducing himself as such. "...A beautiful name. Should I bow? Or would you not like that?" She didn't seem the power-hungry type, nor the type to enjoy groveling, so perhaps it was better to ask. He also didn't know if it was right for him to bow, with him being a prince himself. But, as it was every time he thought of his status, being a prince of the Undersea didn't matter in the end. Perhaps it was for the best, with the bloodiness of fae royalty.

[Ayianna Belle Sivané]

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Marcellus Yong

374 words

Music

Outfit

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That's the thing about illict affairs [break]
They're born from just one single glance.

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She laughed. "I imagine it's far too late for that." she said. "Anyway, you outrank me, at least for now. Are you not a prince?" As soon as he said something about the undersea, it clicked in her head. There were two students here from their courts: a brother and sister. The girl was said to be volatile, wild, and violent. She had thrown a girl overboard at a party. She went through lovers like cards in a game. Everyone was vying for her favor or spreading rumors. To Ayianna, that sounded horrific. [break][break]

He seemed nothing like the rumors of his sister. He was quiet, well mannered, kind. Thoughtful. She tilted her head. "What about architecture interests you?" she asked "I imagine it is much different under the sea." She imagined that they would have less need for walls and roofs than the land did. Weather did not bother them. Storms did not disrupt them. If anything, they controlled the storms. [break][break]

It made Ayianna think of her real home, of her life before all this. Nymphs loved the rain. They dance in thunderstorm. Lightning never struck them. Their trees were never felled. Nature was friend, a mother. Flowers grew up again and again and herbs sprouted, and trees blossomed. Days bled into nights. She wove herself crowns of flowers and they were nowhere near as heavy as the one she buckled under now.  [break][break]

She wondered again why he was here, but instead of dwelling on the conversation, she wondered why he was in this palace. Didn't they already have an ambassador? One of Ambrose's sisters. She had met her once or twice, never had long conversations. In a way, she startled Ayianna. But all the Enigmas were so playful, so loud. She preferred quiet conversation. She preferred wide-open spaces. She preferred silence.  [break][break]

This was alright too. It was still frigid, but not threatening frostbite. With the spring there would be many changes. Perhaps there would be growth too. She could only hope. Her garden would blossom with or without her. Maybe one day she would be there not just to see it grow, but to see her willow sprout flowers too. Maybe she would be able to set foot again in that near-forgotten meadow. 

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[Marcellus Yong]

Ayianna Belle Sivané

He supposed it was only a matter of time before she realized who he was. He, in the back of his mind, had hoped she wouldn't. The pressure of others knowing who he was wasn't something he enjoyed. He had hoped to bury himself in the anonymity that his title lacked. To be just Marcellus the apprentice. To be himself. Not what the Undersea wanted him to be.

A hand went up to rub the back of his neck. "I suppose that's true. But we are on land, after all. This is not my mother's domain." Thankfully. As much as he wanted his mothers affection, her displeasure was too hard to bear. So he was glad he was on land and not sea, for now.

His ears perked up. He adored talking about architecture. And she was asking about his interests within the field? This was wonderful. "Yes, well, the Undersea architecture is, of course, made for the environment in which we all live. It is beautiful in its own right, and displays a wide variety of differing styles and techniques, which all depend on the location of the structure. The shallower buildings can be more delicate and intricate on average, due to the lack of pressure from the water. However, certain magic can be used to strengthen deeper structures in order to utilize more delicate forms of architecture. An example of this is spirals. Shallower buildings have more spirals on average. However, the main palace has them as well, even if it is a little deeper. This is due to the fact that the royal family can obviously afford to have people use magic on the structures. The palace itself isn't even as old as the Undersea itself! It's a far more recent addition, one that came after the unification of the Undersea territories. Even so, it’s very beautiful. However, due to being underwater, it lacks the greatest aspect of architecture; gargoyles.”

He had to stop to breathe for a moment. He just loved talking about his interests. However, he wasn’t sure if she would. He didn’t want to scare her off. Or bore her. Both were bad. He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Am I boring you?” He hoped not. He really wanted to continue. And talk about gargoyles. Not many people liked to hear about gargoyles…

[Ayianna Belle Sivané]

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Marcellus Yong

371 words

Music

Outfit

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That's the thing about illict affairs [break]
They're born from just one single glance.

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Ayianna was not sure how to respond. Her words never mattered much– in him she felt she had found a kindred soul. She wanted to at least hope that she could make him feel as though what he said mattered to anyone, but then again, words mattering to her barely meant they mattered at all. She had all of the constraints of royalty and none of the power. The only influence she would ever have was through Ambrose, which was just another way of saying she would never have any influence at all.


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She could not lie. She could not say that she had not tried to make him love her. She knew, deep down, that she would never love him, that a ship would never love an anchor, that a bird would never love its cage, that rings were circles like handcuffs were circles. But she also knew that she might make him love her, and it would make things easier. It didn’t work. She could smile, and she could bring him lovely things, and she could show him fine flowers, but Ambrose would never love anyone but himself. If she kept trying, she would wither. She saw it in his mother’s eyes. He was his father’s son.


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So she had stopped trying. Better to rot than to wither. Better to suffocate than to drown. She would die slowly and she would die from the inside out. She would press on for as long as she could and the result would be the same anyway. “You’re not boring me. I do love learning new things. But I fear– no, I know– that I will be unable to implement any ideas you have.”


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Was she saying that to save him time or to save herself? She was entirely too used to fae trying to use her and entirely disillusioned to shiny promises and glittering horizons. She would stay here, and listen to someone who wanted to talk to her, rather than hear themselves talk, for as long as she could. But of course, she couldn’t stay, not in this moment, not in this hallway, not anywhere she wanted to be. She was a dying flower. She was no use to anyone.



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[Marcellus Yong]

Ayianna Belle Sivané

Even with the horrible, bloody political conflicts within them, the palaces of their world were truly marvels of beauty. He would cherish them for what they were, no matter how much blood stained their marble floors. Something so beautiful, witness to so much violence. A tragedy, truly. Better to stay away from the gore and tragedy, and embrace the beauty of it all. 

His ears perked up at the notion. He had not bored her. Wonderful! Perhaps he could go on. "It is not a matter of you needing to implement them. Merely listening would be enough. Offering your opinion would be more so." He smiled softly, pleased with the conversation, as well as himself. She was interested in what he was saying. 

"As I was saying, gargoyles. This palace has a few, and they truly are divine. The mere presence of them... the way they fill a space with such an awe-inspiring feeling... truly, they are the greatest marvel of architecture on both land and sea. And the practicality! The way they drain water away from the structures themselves, effectively preventing water damage to the structure as a whole! Not only do they provide such a wonderful aesthetic to the structure, but they also protect it. Beautiful, and functional. But one thing that does irk me are the mere imitations of gargoyles known as grotesques. Grotesques offer no true value to a structure, save for aesthetic. Unlike gargoyles, they have no water spout system, making them worthless when it comes to redirecting water away from the structure. They do have aesthetic beauty, I will give them that, but it is still simply a copy of gargoyles! Why install a grotesque at all, when gargoyles are clearly the better, more functional choice for decoration?" He had to stop to take a deep breath.