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Llyra Constantine reaches for his shoulder as he doubles over. "Sire, hear me...I made a promise and I will not break it." She looks at the Duchess and nods then back to the King. "Give me your hands." Her voice comes firm and unyeilding; a healer who knows her art is both in mind and body.
Powers Constantine closes his eyes and tries to draw all the healing he can towards the King. Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ nods to Olwe. "Shhhh, love."
Malakyte Thorne rises to her feet, ready to assist if needed. Veronique nods briefly and then moves to position herself to be of aid. Olwe pants, draws in a ragged breath. "If it cannot claim me...it will seek you." A look of pain-filled certainity is on his face,and he struggles hard to speak as the fabric of his sleeves split. Claw marks appear on his flesh, and wounds open.
"There is a darkness here." Llyra looks at the other healers. "Do what you can to call it off while I work from the inside."
Malakyte Thorne narrows her eyes, seeing the rents in the man's sleeves. She clears her mind then and calls upon the fire within, reaching to the star of her ancestors.
"The Valar cannot even reach me. I am beyond them..." He chokes out the words, bows his head as he shakes harder, blood flowing freely from the wounds.
Veronique nods again, then positions herself , her hands folded, posture balanced. She closes her eyes briefly as she whispers a prayer, then opens them to observe with the clarity that she may be granted.
Llyra Constantine calmly whispers, "It cannot take what it cannot reach, Sire. Give me your hands." she instructs him again. Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ watches hopefully.
Malakyte Thorne allows the power to build within her, feeling the fire of the star fill her own body. She then casts her senses to the king's body, trying to find what it is that opens the wounds there. Powers Constantine calls upon the Sun as he tries to bring healing in and focusing on the King.
Olwe lifts his eyes up to the gentle healer and starts to stretch out his hands, but the sound of fabric and flesh tearing is loud. He tries to choke off a cry of pain as more wounds open, upon his back, his chest, his stomach. He swoons and drops his hands to grasp the arms of the chair and holding himself seated.
Malakyte Thorne drove her senses into his body, feeling his heart pump, the life force running along his nerves.. trying to find something.. an elusive trail. Llyra Constantine breathes slowly as she sees more wounds open. Her patience wearing thin at this latest attack, she lays her palms upon his shoulder and back. Breathing deeply, she calls the moisture-laden air to her and murmurs in an ancient language to it, bidding it enter the king's body. Malakyte Thorne sensed the moisure and realized it was Llyra's doing, daring not to take any action that might inhibit her actions but trying to follow a trail of darkness she sensed there.
For a few moment, his breath is loud to his own ears, ragged and uneven. He sucks in air, glancing over at the cousin he has seen grow from girl to woman to queen. Olwegards her, long, carefully, almost lost in a fugue, so many images rising to his mind. And among them all, a Voice rises in hateful mocking laughter. He pushes it, hard, aside, does not listen to its oily words, its deceiful lies. "Comet," he breathes, focusing all his love, all his attention into that one word.
Veronique raises her hands, a faint white light touching her fingers, she closes her eyes briefly once again, attempting to feel the powers at work here with other senses than sight. Malakyte Thorne shudders slightly hearing a voice .. laughter from a great distance. Llyra Constantine's hands grow warm as the air calls to her through his skin. Sensing with her energy rather than her eyes, she closes the silvered orbs. Gently she coaxes the air to a dark source. The Arch Druid's aid now felt, she pushes the energy forth..ever seeking into the heart of the darkness. Malakyte Thorne blinks now, clearly sensing the darkness as it tries to escape her notice, listening hard to the dark voice, tasting it almost as a bitter aftertaste. Veronique calls forth the powers available to her, lending them in support of Llyra's workings, her face calm and focused now.
"For we walk by faith and not by sight." Llyra whispers softly into the King's ear. Hearing not the laughter the others heard, she delves deeper, pulling the energy with her now. A thick, oily presence, choking and filthy invades the air there. A whispered hiss sends the pure air into it, scattering but not destroying it.
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ recalls the whispers amongst her kin that she might marry him when she was of age. The talk was not unpleasant to her. But he had his own path that was meant for him. She lived in exile and he drifed from her life.
"No," he growls at the Voice, the insinnuations. "You know her not. You know me not. " He stares at her delicate features, remembering her father's strength, her mother's beauty. Without even realizing, he blurted out, "You used to pull my hair when you were younger. Said it was unfair mine was longer than yours." A smile plays across his lips.
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ draws breath. "Should I not tug yours, Sweet Comet? Or are we even?"
"Cousin..."
"Once, perhaps, your father meant more between us. Think you so?" He blushes, a shy king after all the years, still. "Would that have been a bad thing? Do you wonder?"
"No, of course not..I have always loved you."
Olwe smiles a little. "But Alqualonde and I had not your heart...that way."
Veronique's focus wavers briefly at the question asked of her queen, and then she pushes it away, regaining her deep concentration on the healing process. Now Malakyte zones in on the darkness.. a subtle undercurrent running through his body, along his nerves. It was, in part, the effect of the tears, infiltrating every fiber of his body with its insidious poison. She senses some action, the concentration of the Tear's poison dissipating and knowing this was Llyra's doing.
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ says to Olwe. "You are wrong, beloved. I would have married ...you.." She is suddenly aware of all those around her and she colors.
Powers Constantine eyes remain shut and in deep meditation, focusing only on his healing. Llyra Constantine's mark begins to burn as her Call awakens in response to something. Refusing to acknowledge anything but the healing in progress, she uses the light energy and sends the silver strands into her hands. Curling her palms, they grow warmer still as arcs of silver light enter his body. Slowly Malakyte releases the power of healing into the Teleri Lord, strengthening his body in a subtle way, only his body and not the darkness that threatens it.
Comet spoke to Olwe again. "You are the only one who has ever held my heart in such a way."
Veronique spreads her hands wide, supporting the network of healing being woven with her own powers, her expression now intent. Malakyte Thorne concentrates, releasing more of her healing power, allowing his own body to heal the wounds quicker and more completely.
Sliding around his thoughts and memories, the Voice poked and prodded, turning each over, trying to find a weakness, a spot it can corrode, but cannot. Olwe nearly misses her words for the shrieks of rage that came forth from the voice and more wounds appear. But he fastens his gaze upon Comet's face, unaware as his blood stains the carpet. He feels his eyes fill with tears, and for a moment, his voice fails him. "I...I should have been more to you."
The Sylvan Queen jumps with alarm and then cries. "The fates have separated us."
Llyra Constantine's light connects to the air, as she smiles softly, the archdruid having known precisely what to do. She sends the silvered strands deep, swirling towards their target. Oily muck surrounds them, but the power of her Call prevails, burning through though not cleanly. She cries out in alarm as she realises she cannot undo the damage wrought, only buying him a small amount of time.
Olwe continues, unheeding of the open wounds. "I should have been more. Only Eru knows the workings of our hearts...how one binds us, another does not. How one love lasts our whole lives...another only a single moment. Why one can call forth our very soul until we do not know where he ends and we begin..."
"My father knew much, the great king himself, except how to live without my mother and stay alive."
"Your father and mother were of one soul, Beloved. And we both know how it is with the elven kin. We love with our entire being, give of our entire self. Anything else, is merely playing at love for us...like I did with..." his voice trails off.
Veronique drops to her knees, as she invokes her Diety, asking aid in support of this healing , the powers granted flowing from her like water from a fountain to grant what aid they may. Malakyte Thorne begins to sense more of what Llyra is doing. Sensing also the light flowing into him, she again draws on her source of power, the fires of the star and calls in ancient to her ancestors there, pulling the power forth. and sending it right to his body, strengthening it against the onslaught. Llyra Constantine opens her eyes, pleading silently with her God for the life of the King. Dropping her gaze, she blinks slowly as sight returns, the blood seeming everywhere. She closes them again, once more calling her light, this time to make it's return journey. "Buy him time.." she murmurs softly into the Hall.
"Yes. And when she died, so did he. perhaps not at that moment but soon there after he allowed the blade of an assassin to enter his flesh. I slew the man where he stood with Eyrturheru's sword but, it was already too late." Comet was speaking.
Olwe bows his head. "You carry his strength, her beauty, yet are greater then the sum total of their parts."
"I was queen at that very moment, and my own destiny drew me upon a gale that still blows. The Shadow world has shattered our lives and made us what we must become."
Deep within his mind, Olwe pulls away from all he knows of his cousin, pulls away quickly before the Voice can follow his thoughts. He hears and are aware of the others in the room. He feels, from a distance, his sweet cousin's pain, and dares not say the words that can comfort her, lest he betrays her to the Dark Presence. "Yet, love remains," he whispers. "When all else is taken from us, love remains."
Llyra Constantine hears the words though only one leaps at her: sword. Swiftly she coils the energies she feels around the king's body, praying the healers did not let go. Around and around they coil, her own light adding heat to melt and combine them: a gleaming sword, one very similiar she had fashioned once before to draw the darkness away from the king. All Malakyte could do was continue to pour her healing power into him, sensing a slight hesitation, a slowing of the progress of darkness.
"My love shall be tested, dearest . for I must do what I cannot do. i must kill you with my father's sword to save you. How can I do this thing?"
Malakyte Thorne takes a breath, sensing a new thing.. something of light within the king, and she intensifies her efforts. Veronique's focused upon the weavng and support of the healing, the words flowing by her to be understood only at a later time, her hands moving gently, as she whispers her prayers, lending support and strength.
Hapless to stop, 'love' brings thoughts of the Ainur Tilion, and in retaliation, the Voice slices and slash, within and without, and Olwe cannot bite back the cry of pain, so sharply does it come. He sways in his chair and moans, falling back against the cushion. "For love of Eru," he cries out in a tortured voice. "I cannot remain so and be king of a vanished people. I cannot be it's plaything and not be master of my own mind, my own body. I cannot be Eldar and watch it twist and turn me. I will not." Comet grips the arm of her chair.
Llyra Constantine smiles as the Shadow withdraws slightly from the blade within. Breathing heavily, she recognises the weariness she often experiences in such a healing. Her shoulders sag slightly under an unseen weight but she doesn't let go...she had promised. "Tilion." She echoes his word in a gentle voice.
Olwe echoes Llyra, "Tillion!"
Malakyte Thorne jumps at the cry, and winces, at the pain she senses. But despite it all she keeps her mind open, her connection to her power strong as she continues pouring her healing into the seemingly endless pit of darkness she senses there. Veronique intensifies her prayers to lend strength, as she feels Llyra flag slightly, her own efforts intended as much to support the other healers, as to aid in the healing. Llyra Constantine reaches for the name, half forgotten as many things are for her. "Tillion.." she murmurs softly, as the recollection becomes clear.
Olwe gasps for air, and gives a small moan. "He is my soulmate, Comet. In all the world, my soul walks in moonlight and stardust, and I cannot be so apart from him."
"Yes. I know this."
Llyra Constantine's face lights at his words, knowing Tillion's presence had been felt when last she drew a sword of light into the Shadow, Her mind quickly picks up the woven strands, parrying and slashing at the darkness within.
"But for that....but for that..."he looks at her, the meaning left hanging. "If Earwen rises to the swan throne, you must both unite the elves against the Darkness, Comet. You must fine and unite all the elvenkind."
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ nods solemnly. "If it is possible, I will try."
'It will sweep the children of Man aside as chafe from wheat...but together, together, the Children of Eru can stand...you know this. Submission is not the way. You must stand together."
"Yes, dearest, I know we must."
Malakyte Thorne blinks, remembering the darkness before, the one she tried to heal, and its draining effect on her. She pulls back for a moment, recentering herself, unable to even think in her present state, struggling to hold his body against the destructive forces within.
Within the Voice rises in force and anger and boils with rage. Sweat breaks upon the Teleri's Lord's brow, and his body shudders with fever. "I know...who.. speaks to me.."he says through clenched teeth. "It cannot have you."
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ shivers at the fierce struggle that rages inside Olwe. Malakyte Thorne refocuses herself, keeping her mind clear and reaching once more for the powers of the star. Llyra Constantine's hand involuntarily clenches as her body tries to mimic her mind. The darkness draws back but is too deeply seeded to root out and destroy. Finally, a faint wash of energy is felt..so faint she nearly misses it. Dropping to her knees, she quickly pulls the strands of energy apart and sends them in streams back to the healers. "Again, this time the outer body." She withdraws her own silvered strand, cupping her hands as arcs of silvered light play there. Veronique reaches out a hand instinctively, touching Malakyte gently to lend her support.
Olwe closes his eyes for a moment, a weariness stealing over him. Gathering himself , he looks gratefully around at the healers, then at Llyra. "You must..."he pauses...panting. "You must not waste your efforts on me. You must protect my Beloved...Comet. You must gather about her and restore her."
Veronique takes that which is given to her and returns again that which is necessary to aid the process, once again, moving her hands together, so ht the touch. Malakyte Thorne suddenly senses the strand faintly.. almost visualizing it as a silvery light.. and she once more releases her healing energies into his body as well as that strand, pulling it and strengthening it with the light of a distant northern star.
"I am well, cousin, please do not be concerned."
Olwe looks up, takes in her hair, now the color of his own. "No, Love, you are not."
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ involuntarily touches her hair. "Perhaps I am just not as young as I used to be, dearest."
Llyra Constantine pulls her hands away, holding them palms up. The arcs of light dance there and echo in her eyes. Weariness shows in her face as she answers him, "I will do what I can, Olwe, but Tillion hears. Know this, he does hear." Dropping her head, she brings her cupped hands together and releases the light into her own body. "I am sorry, I can do no more." The merest whisper of sound escapes her.
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ blinks at a flash of light. Veronique extends her hands, lending more to the King's physical healing. Then following LLyra's lead, she withdraws, closing her eyes to give thanks, before reopening them and pushing herself back to her feet.
Olwe reaches up and takes Llyra's hands in his own and smiles up at her face, his breath slowly returning to normal. "I know, sweet Lady, I know. If only I could hear him." He turns up a palm and plants a soft kiss. "Thy healing is a balm, " he whispers gently.
Veronique places her hands at her waist, her palms pressed gainst her stomach, as she observes the King. Llyra Constantine's eyes well with tears. "I know he hears.." she whispers softly. "Have faith just a little while longer."
Olwe pulls out of his chair halfway, in an effort to help Veronique up, and blushes deeply. "How can I thank you for what this respite?"
Malakyte Thorne continues to send her power into the strand, until its light shines clearly. Then sensing Llyra's withdrawal she sends part back to him..brighter than before, keeping her part. Olwe turns to Malakyte. "And you....how can I ever thank you, noble Soul?"
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ smiles to the regent. Veronique reaches and touches the King's hand gently, before stepping back, placing her hand back, flat against her waist. Llyra Constantine nods slowly in thanks to each of the healers. Withdrawing her hands and placing them in the folds of her long sleeves, she steps back, her eyes closing as if in a light trance. Olwe feels the lady's love and comfort and allows his eyes, his face to show how deeply he is touched. The Sylvan queen stands to signal the visit is at an end.
Malakyte Thorne draws back keeping a connection with her star least she collapse. She looks up at him and smiles faintly, hardly able to gather her thoughts. Lastly, the Lord of Alqualonde looks up at Powers and gives him a thankful nod. Powers Constantine smiles warmly at the King. Veronique turns her face to look at the Queen, as she stands. The Queen inspects Olwe for signs of improvement. He slowly rises and takes his cousin's hand, turns it up and kisses the palm, then closes her fingers over the kiss. She smiles.
"Please, rest, Beloved," she tells him."
"Were I to take a queen, there could be only one," he whispers softly. "This you must know." She nods slowly. "You shall never cause me harm, " he tells her, "no matter how a thing must seem, you never shall. Hold that in your heart."
Veronique looks away once more, the designs on the carpet seeming holding a fascinatino once morme, she bites her lower lip, her face impassive.
"I will, love," she whispers. "Now we shall leave you to rest." Veronique looks up at the Queen's words.
Olwe pulls his cousin into his arms, and holds her tight. "We cannot turn back years, " he whispers. "But we can claim moments."
"Please know of my love for you, always."
"And mine for you." Olwe nods softly and reaches out to stroke her cheek. "Rest, too, my Beloved Cousin." Olwe watches her long, with a look never before on his face.
Ǿυεεŋ Čөмεŧ turns to her party and makes a move toward the door.
Veronique turns to follow the Queen. She stops,grips Olwes hand and releases it. "Farewell, Cousin."
Olwe takes her hand and places it over his heart. "Never farewell."
"Until we meet again," she says.
"Until next we meet."
Powers moves to the door. Malakyte Thorne moves aside. and, with a glance back, follows. Veronique looks briefly over her shoulder at the King, then follows her Queen. Llyra Constantine sways slightly on her feet, then moves towards the door. "Merry part to merry meet again, Sire."
To Llyra, Olwe responds. "Thank you." But Olwe whispers to no one there, "You shall never have her."
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