Not What You'd Expect (S T A Y N E)

[NIMIRA OF CLOQUE]

Itwas cloudy out, and thus she wore her hair down, stained dark black like ink. She gazed at herself in the mirror, pale pale skin and deep gray eyes, like the clouds outside. She stained her lips pink, nothing too exotic today she was just getting over the sickness that had congested her chest recently. She had drained it all out a few days ago in a flood of bitter tears. Taking in a deep breath she touched her stomach and suddenly decided to not wear a corset, to give herself and her bruised sides a break from the torture. Slipping into a dark dress that fit her frame nicely she smiled slightly in the mirror at her tamer look.

She wasn't as exotically dressed as usual and perhaps that was a good thing, give herself a rest from all the preening she had been doing and focus more on having fun and relaxing. But how? She was locked inside of this damned castle all day never to be allowed out,as though she had friends inside here besides her sister. And Sissy was always so busy nowadays how was she supposed to socialize? Perhaps she was just being a brat. She wrinkled her nose in the mirror applying a light lavender scented perfume and walking out, making sure her door was closed securely before wandering down the hall in search of something to do.

Perhaps a trip to the kitchens, but then again she'd been there a few days ago and she wouldn't want to fall into a boring routine here. Walking past servants and others they all gave her a bit of a stare, it was obvious she wasn't wearing a corset seeing as her bust was not enhanced by her much favored empire waistlines, not that it mattered much to her she wasn't looking for that particular kind of attention. In fact, she'd rather have been alone at the moment but in a large castle even with all the space that was nearly impossible. Perhaps a lovely walk in the maze...oh but it'll rain soon and I'll get lost. Maybe just a visit to the croquet field for now. She smiled slightly at the thought.

Running down to the kitchens for a few treats for the poor animals that were abused as they were toyed with during the game she walked out to the field and allowed the flamingos and the hedgehogs to roam free. Tucking her knees under her she sat on the grass and pet a flamingo that had settled upon her lap. Humming a quiet tune as she fed the creatures she looked to the sky once more and felt a raindrop hit her nose. It wouldn't really pick up for a while and she smiled enjoying the occasional cold drip on her head or her arm.

Looking up she heard a twig snap and a frown tugged down her lips. So much for being alone for the day as she had hoped it seemed she had a bit of company, and of all people she hoped it wasn't someone intent on talking to her for long. Sighing slightly she knew she should be scrambling to collect the animals but didn't much really care to, at the most Sissy would scold her and that would be the end of it.

[STAYNE.]

Stayne had been missing in action for some time. Rumours of his death had been rife throughout Underland over the weeks, which turned swiftly into months, and the number of men all claiming to have killed him was unproportionate to the number of times Stayne could actually die. Although many suspected the tales of immortality and black blood were true, contrary to popular belief, the General of the Red Queen’s Army had a mortal life span and was just as susceptible to death as you or I. Regardless of the actuality of what some may consider a ‘condition’, Stayne would quite happily let the rumours and stories to continue to circulate throughout Underland just for the Hell of it. Rather than the quiet Knave who should stand silently at his Queen’s shoulder, blending into the background and only occasionally making an appearance when required to take the Underland Resistance’s equivalent of a bullet, Stayne preferred to let his reputation precede him. He saved the silent, sneaky approach for launching a surprise attack that no one could ever have predicted. The screams as he oversaw the burning of the White Queen’s kingdom still replayed in his mind, as music to his more than mildly mentally unhinged ears.

He had been posted in the centre of the forest for the previous months with a small company of men, with the intent of gaining information as to Alice’s whereabouts and the nature of the resistant uprising against Iracebeth. His general nature, unable to remain still, silent and waiting for longer than half an hour, combined with his memorable face (the distinct lack of a left eye gave him an ominous guise that one could pick out immediately from a line-up) made him the least likely candidate for Iracebeth to designate as a spy, although she had overridden his own orders to send him away. It was as though she already expected something from him that was not to her favour... Regardless of how risky Stayne’s position had been, camped in the Underlanders own forest with naught but a clutch of men to protect their makeshift base should the worst occur, he had stumbled through it and murdered quite a few of the resisters before returning to his post in the castle. Having been back the grand total of one day, most of that spent in pain in his chambers, Stayne had not yet made his presence within the castle known again – But when one was almost seven feet tall, dark and exceedingly ruggedly handsome, one was hardly likely to go unnoticed for long.

Although most of the locals running scared left him with a lack of a decent sparring partner, it also saved him from the danger of a mortal wound that could serious damage both his mortality and the name he had for treating any serious injury as nothing more than a flesh wound. Much as he was spared the irregularity of a wound that could take him out of action for longer than a couple of minutes, sometimes the inevitable did occur. Stayne had sustained a fairly innocent wound (as ‘innocent’ as a deep slice to the chest could appear) recently, at the hands of that blasted Fae boy. When Stayne would have the chance to bind him with iron, he didn’t know – But he was damned well looking forward to the day. He had visited Opium’s office in the hope of having the injury fixed up yet still retaining his dangerous image, although his reputation was still compromised. Stayne may have had friends in high places, but when family trees and the General’s lack of any royal blood whatsoever came into it social standing became a different matter. He was the son of a blacksmith. Those who were aware of his history working for the castle instead of within it often contemplated whether or not a commoner should command such power.

One might believe that Stayne’s power was unrecognisable and undefendable, although in the recent skirmish against several Underlanders who had chanced upon a shipment of weapons from one side of the country to the other, he had lost several of his best men. Everything just went to show that no matter how high Stayne raised his head, there was always that possibility of it being struck from his shoulders quicker than he could blink. He was quite partial to its position, and would gladly retain its use, should such a situation be maintained. He would not aggravate the Queen for as long as possible and, being the only one of any use when it came to restraining her phenomenal temper for one so small, would make himself exceptionally useful. Iracebeth had taken a certain fancy to him, which was in his favour: It would take a whole lot more than simple rumours to convince her to chop off his head. Stayne had been granted an unwilling lifeline, and would do his best not to blow that until the opportune moment.

One hand absentmindedly sliding to his side to press ever so gently against the tender folds of bandages wrapped firmly around the presently still-bleeding wound that sliced his scarred flesh, Stayne made his way through the corridor and towards the outside world. He much preferred to spend his time outside than tucked firmly within his chambers, left only Death By Paperwork. Being the man he was, he would far rather while away the hours in the fresh, open air, rather than stuffy quarters and a distinct lack of room to either swing a cat or practice his swordsmanship – Not that the General needed to practice, of course. It came naturally to the blacksmith’s son, a man who had grown up wielding a weapon. Slipping out of the servant’s entrance with only one or two odd (and sometimes nervous) glances, Stayne didn’t look back as he firmly buckled his sword to his thigh. He wasn’t planning on stepping anywhere near the forest until his side had fully healed, although he never went anywhere without his sword. He felt naked without at least one weapon; don’t even get him started on the knives and daggers concealed within his clothes. Dangerous by name and nature, Stayne wasn’t out to let anyone or anything get him.

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[NIMIRA OF CLOQUE]

Paranoid by nature as Iracabeth had made her, telling her dark stories of the obvious dangers that threatened her every day and would otherwise consume her in a monstrous flurry of fear and terror Nimira stood and shooed the animals back into their places. Of course she wasn't too threatening, wringing her hands and brushing them through her hair as she quietly waited for someone to show themselves. The area was far too quiet for her liking to far and it unnerved her greatly. Terrifying really it was to be alone when the person you loved most dearly was telling you it was best to stay inside rather than some..."accident" befall your pretty little neck. Not as though her sister was threatening her, oh no no no that would never happen. It all came down to Sissy worrying over her obsessively. Half torn between her love of the concern that was shown and her own will for independence Nimira had decided at least for now her best course of action was to keep quiet and take it all, at least for now until she truly tired of it.

Sighing to herself she wrinkled her nose not seeing anyone and tried to console her pounding heart. Silly Nimi She told herself scoldingly. There's no one there and wouldn't be anyway, it's too cloudy out and it might rain soon. But then why did that twig snap? No matter it was probably just a creature running about.Sighing she pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. Maybe the dye was finally getting to her head. Patting her hair down she curled her fingers in the inky mass and smiled. It had only been the second time she ever dyed her hair black and the first time the only one who had seen was her sister before she dashed the color out and went back for red. Plus her hair had grown out beautifully since she had chopped it off in a small rage and the delicate way it lay about her shoulders satisfied her greatly. Twirling it between her fingers she smiled quietly to herself and packed everything up to be brought inside. She considered doing it herself but then several of the servants would be beheaded for not knowing she required assistance, and Nimira didn't want that hanging over her head.

Sighing to herself she decided the best course of action would be to go inside and inform someone that the things were out, she had left without telling anyone she would be outside so no doubt the servants were already in a small quiet panic because she was missing. Best not let Sissy know about her outing alone, then she would throw a fit and come up with a million reasons to just lock her in her room for the rest of her life, or at least until she was married. She was still rebelling a bit against that and rolling her eyes refusing to discuss it. Sissy didn't seem to understand she wanted to choose a man herself and she was a rather good judge of character, not like she would screw up and marry an abusive drunkard, and even if she did she always had Sissy to take care of him for her. A small smile crossed her face at that, slightly twisted if anything. Frowning to herself she wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing and became nervous. Madness seemed to come over her quite a bit lately, she seemed to be turning into a tiny version of her oldest sister. Let's not think about that, you have you're own mind and body you don't need to copy someone else. She consoled herself quietly. Closing her eyes briefly she informed a maid to clean up before having a cup of tea delivered to her. She brought a small tray outside and sat back in the grass, further toward the bushes and flowers this time.

She'd much rather be partially hidden and have a better chance at hiding than get scolded by a maid for worrying everyone with her absence. Not that it mattered much to her, seeing as her business was her own business and not that of anyone else. She had gotten a bit more...rambunctious lately, more opinionated and such. Surely she thought to herself of all people Sir Stayne would absolutely hate it. She smiled to herself thinking of the man and allowed a small giggle to pass by her lips. She had gotten to reading a lot and passed by many books which seemed to have opened her mind and allowed her to control her temper and tantrums, not that they had stopped at all altogether oh no she would keep that with her at least until she married. The thrill of it and confusing people was much too fun for her to give it up. Licking her lips slowly she sipped her tea and bit into a tart, one of her sisters she presumed and surely if she didn't explain she would behead someone without explanation. Shaking her head and clicking her tongue she smiled anyway and licked her lips once more. Such a boring day it seemed to her nothing but the occasional raindrop on her nose to distract her and ignoring the small distant calls of maids looking for her, surely they would pass the responsibility onto someone else to find her, such as Sir Stayne if he was walking by seeing as she was very fond of the man, not that she had gotten the chance to see him as of late.

[STAYNE.]

Stayne stepped out of the servant’s door’s alcove to allow the sun to bathe his scarred face. Camping in the depths of the forest, his sky was covered with thick canopy, with no chance of natural light basking the ground. The most anyone got was a trickle of sunlight seeping through faint cracks in the foliage’s armour. He didn’t exactly enjoy the sun as much as anyone else, preferring the rain that cooled the skin and soothed the aching muscles, bathing the wounds in the sweet bliss of calm and gentle. Although he enjoyed the sunlight, and the ability to escape from the monotony of the castle and rejoice in something far more unexpected than regular meetings and irritation from one source or another, the coolness of the rain was what took Stayne’s breath away. He remembered spending hours sitting lakeside as a child with his elder sister, Morgana. They could while away whole days doing absolutely nothing. Relaxation was hard to come by these days, now that Iracebeth was even more diligent about the men and woman she had around her. Although Morgana was no sycophant, she bowed to the Queen and understood the cruel, brutish nature of her address. Stayne was beginning to believe that even his elder sister respected him. Just a little...

He would use the rest of the day for the purpose it was intended: Doing nothing. Much as he adored living by the sword, as he did, and spending every moment of every single day drenched in blood not of his own colour and relentlessly slaying, there were some days when he had to appreciate that he was growing older, and it was nicer to soak the blood from his hair and not replace it within twenty seconds. It wasn’t often that Stayne was able to relax his duties to the crown and indulge in a moment of restfulness and calm to himself from a day of battle training and lying shamelessly. He had grown quite fond of the persona he adopted when dealing with the Queen. She was a hard woman to fathom at the best of times, and one step on her wrong side could cause your downfall, without a thought flicking through her monstrously-crowned head. Treading on eggshells was the regular mode of transport when tip-toeing around her. Stayne wasn’t sure she had ever had the capacity to retain a friendship for more than a day.

Her sister was the complete opposite. How it could be that two girls from the same family could maintain such a different way of life, Stayne would never know. Mirana was infinitely more beautiful, had a fairly smaller head and ego, and generally would have made a much more preferable ruler of Underland than Iracebeth of Crims. Regardless, Stayne absolutely detested her. She was sissy and far too pretty to be domineering enough to control such a vivacious empire, therefore, as much as he hated to say it, Iracebeth was the right woman for the job. Their youngest sister, Nimira, was something of an anomaly. Far from the almost caricature personalities that Mirana and Iracebeth displayed, Nimira was laid-back and simple where her sisters were fancy and over-demanding. Stayne had to admit that she would be beneficial to his cause – Ensuring that the girl trusted him would be a crucial step into leading Iracebeth on to her downfall – But whether he could stand her for longer than a couple of hours had yet to be determined, Stayne thought as he rounded the corner.

Speak of the Devil, and she shall appear.

Nimira herself was perched on the grass in front of him.

Brilliant.

Stayne fought back the necessity to roll his eyes in bewilderment at the situations he constantly managed to throw himself headlong into, and took a step backwards, attempting to outrun the girl’s train of thought before she realised exactly which tall, dark and handsome Knave had suddenly made her acquaintance again after several months of being absent from the castle. Could he get away in time, before he was lured into yet another conversation about hair colour and eyelashes and whatever else it was that women of the court spend their hours deliberating? Ilosovic Stayne would never understand women. What’s more, he never intended to; conversation with Morgana was quite enough, thank you very much. There was only so much feminine insanity he could put up with per day, and her reluctant lecturing on his consistently brutish and overly obsessive nature this morning had emotionally drained his being-respectful-to-women, even-those-older-than-you capacity for the day.

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[NIMIRA OF CLOQUE]

Sir Stayne, how pleasant of you to finally arrive. Nimira smiles a tad sarcastically. She had gone through an obvious change over the months that Stayne had been absent, trading in her innocence for sarcasm though her eyes still held the misty dreamlike look they normally had. Judging by the annoyed look in your eye and the state of calm you seem to be in I suppose the maids haven't caught up to you asking if you've seen me. She grinned wickedly. Good. It was best not to keep everyone worrying and especially with the rather handsome knave standing in her presence she intended on bothering him, following him if needed be to the point where he'd snap before running off. Another small wicked smile crossed her face at the thought and she held up her tea cup. Tea? I just started. She said softly. She bit into another tart smiling and gazing down at it with an amused look. A raindrop fell on her nose, a rather dark cloud passing over the sun and she gazed up at the sky. I've been reading quite a lot lately it seems, between fairy tales and other...interesting books I seemed to have found. She said to...no one in particular but assuming that Stayne had heard her she supposed his company would require conversation. Humming softly to herself a few more raindrops fell on her dress and she smiled. Come sit, it's bound to drizzle soon and you don't get personal time often. I'd much rather spend time with myself than my sister she's rather stressed today. Quite yell-ish too. Screaming at everyone.

Smiling she popped the rest of the tart into her mouth. It seems people are in quite a bit of shock today, I'm not wearing a corset. As though it matters. She began as though blatantly ignoring any discomfort he may have. She gazed up at the tall man once more, sipping her tea with her large gray doe eyes misty and dreamy from her constant dozing and her head wandering off to think of better and more interesting things, like sneaking from the castle to lay in the flower fields where she could sing freely and not worry about her oldest sibling, or her thoughts would wander to Miri, and how she was doing. She missed her sister terribly but then again she chose to stay with Sissy. Often now she wondered if that was the right choice, she had caught on to something, something bad that was happening in Underland but no one would dare to reveal the going ons to the youngest princess. She found it rather annoying. Sir Stayne, would you care to inform me of what's happening to Underland? She slid her index finger gently along the rim of tea cup. All I know is something bad is happening involving you and Sissy and all of Underland but no one is telling me anything and I find it rather....annoying to have to be left in the dark so very often. She said quietly. To her there were many things to discuss with Stayne, such as their unfinished previous discussion of sex, not that she needed much help with that now that she had read up on it...in a most interesting way. She now found it amusing to watch people become uncomfortable in her presence and Stayne was no exception at all.

Faintly she wondered if she had somehow become more...wicked. Perhaps the youngest of the siblings was finally finding her place, be it at her oldest sisters side or her middle sisters, she would not know for a while. She sat and folded her hands in her lap, gazing up at Stayne with a glitter in her eye that didn't all seem....particularly good or particularly bad. Mainly mischievous.

[STAYNE.]

He could have sworn as she noticed him, attempting to duck for cover behind the irritatingly omnipotent rosebushes that seemed to clutter every inch of the gardens. Iracebeth's red influence was spread throughout the kingdom, never letting up - Especially not in her own property. She would make damned sure that everyone knew who was Queen around here. No one dared to defy her, not even Stayne. And if word of his irritation and lack of willingness to converse with the Queen's younger sister got back to Iracebeth, he'd be explaining himself until the cows came home. Plastering a fairly fake and incredibly brief smile across his lips, Stayne approached her, glancing condescendingly over her tea tray.

"The maids will never catch up with me, my Lady." He replied quickly, the flicker of a smirk in his eyes. They may not have caught up with him and his distinct lack of reasonable affection, but he'd certainly caught up with them... The wicked smile on Nimira's lips drew his attention in again, and he could have rolled his eyes in distaste. It looked to be another of her insanely irritating conversations after all. One might think the girl knew nothing for all she persistently pestered the royals of the court. She was far cleverer than she looked - Nimira just enjoyed pissing everyone off. "I am not entitled to personal time. If I whiled away half my life in the gardens, nothing would ever get done."

Stayne stepped forwards although didn't yet seat himself on the grass at her beck and call. Whether he had to obey the Princess like he did her elder sister was another matter, and he wasn't about to embark on such sycophancy just yet. "Screaming? Better not make myself known again too soon, then. I doubt she is yet aware that I have returned." He mused, glancing up to the huge window of Iracebeth's throne room, where she would no doubt be pacing, wondering when her beloved Knavey would return. Shouldn't have sent him out in the first place, if she was pining for his company after a month or two...

Nimira's question regarding the current state of Underland threw him slightly. Whether or not he was supposed to educate her in the ways of politics during a time of what could be considered outright warfare or not, he wasn't quite sure. Iracbeth would either praise him for being resilient enough to defy her questioning; applaud him for getting the nature of the skirmish across to such an impudent young woman, or scald him for even bothering to allow her the same status as the Queen. Sweet Goddesses, since when had there been so much that he could do wrong within the castle? He hadn't enraged Iracbeth for weeks before he'd left; knowing her temper, she'd manage to have a hissy at him just for coming back.

"The current situation in Underland is... Delicate." Stayne replied carefully, not wishing to let too much loose in one shot. His side was a painfully stinging reminder that the resistance to Iracebeth's rule was growing stronger. If only Alice could be found, then they could be crushed underfoot without their rebellious leader. "Your sister has entrusted the military safety of her kingdom and her reign to myself. She handles the political side of dealings. You have the power to question her - Far more than anyone else - Perhaps you should ask her, rather than merely her lieutenant."

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[NIMIRA OF CLOQUE]

Mmm that's what you think my knight. She smiled dangerously. But even you must admit you're getting a bit old. She said innocently. Standing she made a last minute decision as it really began to drizzle and took his arm, practically dragging him along with her. Smiling she slid her arm through his and looked at the sky. She took in a deep breath, sniffling a bit to try and clear up her nose. Closing her eyes briefly she tangled her fingers in her hair as she felt the cold drops of rain against her head. You know I tease, your not that old really. She patted his arm, knowing it would more than likely annoy him but who was he to deny her? She was now finally realizing her true power ....err....or rather her influence over others due to her sisters power. Plus she was sweet enough to manipulate half the staff to do what she wanted anyway. Now she wasn't letting this get to her head at all, oh no she knew her boundaries and she was sure to keep it safe concerning Stayne. Plus her action was innocent enough.

Well I say you are entitled to personal time, you work so hard you should be rewarded with a few days of rest just to be able to lay down for once without worrying about who your sword is going to be stuck in next. She said quietly. Not at all as though the thought of his sword in the flesh of another was appetizing at all, it was rather disturbing to her actually. Then again he wasn't the one that had to suffer the pain of the after effects, the family and friends who wept for their dearly departed, and small Nimira who was then locked away in her room for days with a head cold and red swollen eyes from her inability to continuously cry for days on end. It left her a bit bitter concerning the army, causing so much destruction and sadness in the world, but then again maybe that was why she was in such a rush to get out and fall in love, only then could her burden be lifted from her shoulders. Plenty of things have gotten done already, more than enough by my standard though I suppose Sissy thinks it isn't enough.

Shaking her head slowly a small smile crossed her lips thinking of her poor dear stressed sister. She needed to get some rest and relax. Even if she doesn't realize it I'm sure several people will be beheaded due to her being upset over not having seen you at all today. She gazed up at him, tilting her head and wrinkling her nose as her bangs fell in her eyes. Brushing the hair out from her face annoyed she ruffled her hair. Keeping her gaze up at him, her look calm cool and collected, if not a tad adoring. Gazing back down to face forward she led him into the maze. Sure in theory the state of Underland wasn't any business of hers but she was still aware something important was being kept from her, and she was still very determined to find out what was going on and why she wasn't allowed to leave the castle. And who was better for the job of telling her than the one person in charge of the army? Why should she ask her sister? Well...because she had...and she had been told it was no matter of hers and not to worry her pretty little head that's why.

Delicate or not I think I should know why I am constantly locked up in the castle all the time and never allowed out except on the grounds. And who better to ask than you? Sissy won't tell me anything she keeps telling me it's never any of my concern. And let's face it, we can talk about politics now, or continue our previous conversation about intimacy. Another little wicked smile on her face and she looked up at him. Not that she needed to know much about the subject anymore, she'd read up plenty on it but seeing him in a state of discomfort caused by her own doing was far too amusing to pass up. Plus now he was caught between sex and telling her what was really going on, and she knew how to pry. And if he chose to walk away she knew all she'd have to do was whine to her sister and bat her eyelashes and Stayne would be yelled at quite a bit for making Nimira cry.

[STAYNE.]

My knight. Her knight? Where had that suddenly come from? If she was getting any ideas, then they would have to be crushed almost instantly to avoid Iracebeth's temper causing her to throw a violent fit, just like she was prone to. Just from the dangerous look in her eyes, Stayne had the strangest sensation that she'd grown up an awful lot since he had left the castle for the depths of the forest. Whether than was by insistence of her elder sister or merely her own choosing, Stayne was unaware, although he was possibly about to find out. Nimira had been young and relatively innocent a couple of months ago, with her Scarlet hair and childish gleam in her dark eyes. Now, with deep, intense black hair and a wicked glint to her expression, Stayne could tell he wasn't going to be permitted to leave until she had exactly what she wanted from him, be that what it may.

Regardless of the stoic persona he was expected to maintain throughout his General's duties around the castle and in the heat of battle, he was rather vain. The sudden, violent and exceptionally painful loss of his left eye had been enough to scar him for life, let alone the other permanent markings scattered across his slender yet muscular frame. Naturally, he took offense to Nimira's comment regarding his age. "A man of my age is in his prime, my Lady, myself included. Iracebeth often has her older knights done away with. You sound as though you're recommending me for the chop." A tight smile tugged over his expression, which was only dropped when she revealed her teasing nature and patted him condescendingly on the arm. He was twice her height and yet still she looked down upon him. Social status and rankings within the Red Queen's castle were an interesting matter.

"I am here to do my duty, and if I wasn't fit or willing to do so, then there would be no use for me. I find silence and solitude tedious, if I am honest. It's just the man I am. Iracebeth's standards are exceptionally high. Then again, with her no-nonsense approach, she can afford to have everyone slaving away over her without a care in the world. No one - Myself included, you understand - Is going to slack off when there's that overhanging threat." He couldn't help but chuckle low at the thought that the Queen's lack of seeing him would cause her to madden swiftly and order several more executions. "When one is a condemned murderer already, a couple more barely matter." He said stiffly, and it was true.

The real value of life no longer mattered to him enough to fuss over any longer, knowing it could be ended so swiftly. Stayne had no wife, he never saw his father or any of his four siblings other than Morgana, his elder sister, and she was as cruel and heartless as he was. He had no time for the trivialities and pleasantries in life thanks to the job he held, and when he returned to the castle he had only enough time to indulge in a filling meal, some good wine and a meagre few hours sleep before he was back out again, right in the firing line. He no longer recalled the looks in the men's eyes as he slit their throats, knocking the life clean out of them. He didn't register that he stepped over fallen soldiers as though they had never been alive at all; never beings who laughed, cried or rejoiced, or had loved ones waiting for them at home. It didn't cross his mind that those eyes belonged to a brother, a cousin, a son - That there were widows waiting in the villages for husbands they'd never see again. Men skewered on the point of Stayne's notorious blade.

His voice was quiet, eyes distant, as though letting her into a secret. "At night, I see their faces, all the men I've killed. They're standing there, on the far bank of the river. They're waiting for me. They say, 'Welcome, brother.'" Stayne paused in their walking for the briefest of moments, shaking his shaggy, black hair down over his eye. "We men are wretched things." He murmured. And then his contemplation was lost, returned to the present and the awkward, half-finished conversation on intimacy and sexual relations that Nimira had insisted they take upon themselves. There were, more often than not, times when Stayne was a murderous killer who gave not a thought to the feelings of others, to the men he slaughtered - And then there were the briefest of brief moments when he was so uncharacteristically human. To know there was a beating heart somewhere in that broad chest was an almost disturbing thought.

He had to hand it to her - She was pretty bloody good. She knew how to make even the most stoic Knave awkward, and would potentially play upon that forever more, until she got what she wanted. Stayne was powerless to resist her forward advances, prying into the political and military situation within Underland, and had to give in."Politics it is." He answered quickly, humouring her and glancing down in the young woman's direction with the briefest flicker of a fleetingly honest smile across his lips. Was he really about to let her in on the most protected secret throughout the Red Queen's castle? There couldn't be commoners wandering around with stories of the mythical girl-child on their lips. That would strengthen the Underlander's resistance against Iracebeth's rule and possibly even begin an uprising. "My Lady, what do you know of Alice...?"

[NIMIRA OF CLOQUE]

Biting her lip she stiffled a giggle seeing how much she had ruffled his feathers by the small comment. It was innocent enough but he always seemed to take everything so seriously he never seemed to be able to joke around at all. Yes yes I know your quite handsome. she laughed delicately. Shaking her head caused her smile to drop seeing as her hair was then once again hanging in her face and she brushed it away. I'm sure everyone knows how capable you are of your job. Her voice took a slightly dangerous tone, ominous if anything. She could already feel it in her gut, she'd be getting sick again once more very very soon after he went out. It stirred inside of her tummy awkwardly and surely she'd be flooding the castle with wails and tears soon enough. Why do
I have the feeling that if you were sent to the chop you really wouldn't die? She teased in an effort to lighten the mood, if only for herself. Looking forward again she decided not to keep her gaze up at him for too long, for some reason it seemed far too heartbreaking.

A couple more barely matter to the one who doesn't have to suffer. She said quietly. It wasn't him that had to stay up for days on end. Rubbing her eyes the dark circles revealed themselves under the layer of power she had brushed over them to hide the marks. It was quite tolling on her skin, blemishes that refused to leave and only darkened. Her grip on Stayne loosened quite a bit, as an emphasis on her distaste for violence. She appeared zombified for a few moments, as though sleep really was a mere illusion and she was bound to stay awake forever. Surely he must have thought it wasn't as bad as actually being there, and perhaps it wasn't, but it was bad enough for her. Of course she also sensed a sadness within Stayne himself, even if he himself may have not been aware of it she had wept for him numerous times he had left. It seemed the soldiers were the most heartbroken of those anywhere, having to fight and kill for their allegiance when in fact they should be at home.

Gazing up at him as he spoke she slid her hand down his arm to slip her fingers through his and hold his hand tightly. I see them too. She said quietly. But instead of welcome, they say weep for me like my wife, brother, sister, mother, aunt won't be able to. Feel my pain, my sadness, my loneliness as it stood out there. Take all my pain so I can find peace. She returned her gaze directly in front of her. Do this for me so there is no more pain. It's my burden. She squeezed his hand tighter. And it gets worse and worse every time you leave. With the pain there was a split second of bliss, one small happy feeling she had inside of her knowing she was doing a great favor for the fallen soldiers and fallen innocents on the battlefield. She was in her own way giving them a funeral, allowing them to cross over and feel peace. Her heart felt full and empty at the same time, conflicting emotions constantly making her question herself.

Who's Alice? She asked quietly. For a moment she paused in her walking, pulling Stayne to a stop too. They were far enough away from the castle and she didn't want to get lost. Leaning up she just barely was able to catch a bit of Stayne's hair and she tugged it, forcing his head down closer to hers. Her eyes glittered a bit, wetter than usual but the tears were forced back far down her throat. Keeping a hold of his hair she leaned forward quickly to catch his lips for a moment then released him. Immediately she began to walk again, as though it hadn't happened. I know it's inappropriate, you can leave now if you wish to. I know you find me annoying.

[STAYNE.]

And now he was handsome, too! What madness ran through Nimira's mind on an everyday basis? Surely nothing she could be proud of... Then again, Stayne was defiantly oblivious to the ways of the female, and would probably always remain that way. So many men were in the dark about their wives and sisters and daughters that it appeared to be the done thing not to understand a word. "I suppose I should thank you for the compliments, though 'handsome' is undeserved and inappropriate between us." He murmured quite gruffly, turning his attention back facing front so as not to have to look at her. She was becoming increasingly more informal, and Stayne didn't appreciate the suddenness of the friendship. It had all come too swiftly, after at least two months of lonely hardship. He laughed tightly at her vaguely amusing comment regarding his death. "No one could get rid of me that easily, or someone would have done so long before now."

He noticed she didn't want to look at him either, and her following remark gave him a reason why not. She was the one who wept for the men Stayne murdered, the dead and dying, the widows and newly-made only children and fatherless sons and daughters, the pivotal figure taken from their life by Death in the form of the one-eyed Knave. Maybe she'd cried for him, the sad remembrance of a soul that was once whole and carefree, now damned to the deepest circle of Hell as compensation for his crimes. What came after death no living mortal was aware, and Stayne had no desire to investigate any time soon. He might have been miraculous, but no one came back from the dead once sent there, least of all the murderous General. He deserved his place in the ceaseless, never ending torture of the afterlife. Nimira's words struck that uncharacteristically beating heart but he made no move to squeeze her fingers, or, indeed, retrieve his hand from her grip, merely retaining his upright, silent poise.

"We should... We shouldn't be having this conversation." He said quietly though insistently, more for his own sake than Nimira's. Maybe it would do her good to get her reasoning out in the open - It probably would for him too, not that he cared any longer - But he wasn't prepared to delve into the darkest depths of his feelings and emotions on a day such as this, let alone with Nimira listening in to every word. He never suspected her of reporting back to the Queen on any subject of their conversation.

And least of all, he didn't expect that.

Her lips were gentle and tender against his, tinted with the salt of unwept tears and almost shaking. As her fingers ran through his matted hair and her lips touched carefully, almost cautiously against his, Stayne's mind was racing a million miles an hour. Did she have some sort of crush on him? Nope, definitely not. Couldn't be. She was in the market for a husband, after all, and he was Iracebeth's squeeze! Clearing his throat as she pulled away, Stayne straightened back up to his full height with a slight toss of his hair and distinctly avoiding her eyes. he definitely couldn't look at her now. "You and I both know that... That is inappropriate, but we also know you want information. And you won't let me leave without that. You know nothing about Alice?" He questioned, attempting to turn the conversation back to something that didn't involve kissing, intimacy or death - Three of his least favourite subjects when conversing with the princess.

[/blockquote]

[NIMIRA OF CLOQUE]

{Sorry it sucks but I added a new element in for some fun }

She was conflicted, her emotions running rampant in her mind and she wasn't even sure what she wanted anymore. She didn't want to marry the man her sister chose she knew that, but arguing was useless and she'd just be sent to her room. Handsome is a compliment that is well deserved and perfectly appropriate when talking to a man. Just because you feel awkward about it doesn't mean it's not appropriate. Perhaps if you socialized a bit more and acted just a tad more human, more so than you act like a machine, your life would be a lot more pleasant. She plopped down on the ground with her defiant pout which meant she wasn't going to move any time soon. Glancing up at him she gave a tight smile. Seeing as your perfectly inhuman I'm sure you've managed to dodge a few blows. Of course this was her new more subtle way of throwing a tantrum and she was almost satisfied with her now sharper tongue. The weeks I've spent weeping for you and your men. She muttered under her breath. Sighing she looked back up at him, with an...oddly detatched look.

There is a very distinct difference between we "shouldn't" and you don't want to Sir. So which is it that you mean? Because I can talk about whatever I like with whoever I want on whatever subject I choose. And yes I do realize I'm unfairly attacking you but my frustration with you only grows. As she spoke it began to pour, the rain coming down in large drops that crashed against her eyelashes in such a way that made her flinch. Thunder crashed and lightning lit up the sky, and her eyes flashed with terror. Jumping up quickly she grabbed his arm and began to walk, but whether it was toward or away from the castle she had no idea. I know nothing about Alice. She said with trembling lips, shaking like a bunch of leaves trying to be torn from a tree limb. She gazed around her heart pounding and everything looked the same to her. Where are we? She asked in a feeble weak tone that gave away her fright. As a particularly loud crash of thunder sounded she screamed and jumped, grabbing onto Stayne and burrying her face in his arm. Terribly tense she shook from cold and fright, her lips slowly turning blue.

[STAYNE.]

Stayne smirked at the thought of him acting ‘a tad more human’. Hadn’t he already exposed enough for her prying nature for her to be happy? No. Apparently not. “My Lady, should I become more ‘human’, as you so dignifiedly put it, in the midst of battle I might realise what I was doing.” He left it at that, not wishing to declare any more on the matter, lest his irritation with her grow to the point of no repair, and Heaven knew what would happen when news of his insolence reached Iracebeth, whether he had been provoked or otherwise. “I don’t want you to cry for me.” Stayne said quickly and bluntly, his tone sharp and vividly demanding, whether the command could be obeyed or not. “For my men, perhaps. Many of them do not deserve the deaths they are lumbered with – But not for a man like me. There are many far worthier of your tears than I.” It was all well and good requesting such a lack of anguish from the young princess, but whether or not she could deliver on that was a different matter entirely.

“I mean that we shouldn’t. Even you should know that, princess, no matter what your social status dictates you can and can’t do.” He said briskly, continuing to pace although his gait gained momentum, almost eager to distance himself from her and her insistent questioning. He didn’t know if she’d matured over the time he’d been away or become more childish, but she’d certainly discovered how to grate away at a man’s nerves until they were truly shredded. “If you think you can force me to discuss anything you fancy, simply because of your family name then you are mistaken, Nimira. You may become as frustrated as you like with me and my nature, although that will not change half as much as yours appears to have done. What does your sister think of the new you? Does she appreciate your values and nature, or does she dismiss you as readily as anything?” He asked, knowing perfectly well that he was pushing it, although hoping that her desperation to return to the castle under the showers of cascading rain would put her off answering him in the short, sharp shrift he was likely to deserve.

The dark clouds had been gathering for a while – Since they had been out of the castle and wandering through the woods (careful to remain a decent distance away from the thick centre, overrun with Underlanders, naturally) – Although it was a shock to even Stayne’s system as the rain began to pour, lashing down upon them utterly relentlessly. The trees and flowers quaked with the huge, heavy droplets gushing from the skies above, although Stayne didn’t notice as he trampled insignificant petals underfoot in order to return to the dominating, grey stone castle that loomed above everyone, no matter which way they turned. Iracebeth’s presence was all-encompassing, omnipotent and ubiquitous, and would certainly never let up until she was forcibly thrown from the throne. Stayne never wished to see that day come, regardless of how often he detested her, because as soon as Mirana, Iracebeth and Nimira’s elder sister, was perched firmly upon the golden seat and the crown atop her ice-white curls, Stayne would fall too. He had no purchase under Mirana’s rule, and would never find any, short of his heart being warmed. Like that was ever going to happen.

He was inclined to blame the dramatic change in the weather on Nimira herself. In a way, he was grateful for it: It certainly kicked her down a well-deserved peg or two, letting the young princess know exactly where she stood in the great scheme of things, rather than where she wanted to stand. “If you’d let us remain within the castle grounds rather than being s defiant and needing to escape from your sister’s clutches, we probably wouldn’t be in this mess.” He hissed quietly at her, and reluctantly unfastened his reasonably-dry cloak to drape around her shoulders, leaving him in his leather jacket, trousers, boots and black shirt. To see the Knave adorned with any hue other than black, that which befitted his looks and nature so perfectly, was a rare sight. He bit back the urge to significantly roll his eyes as she buried her face into him and hid against his body, just managing to suppress the action. “Iracebeth will either be worried sick about you or won’t even have noticed you’re missing. I predict the latter...”