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deathsmajestyLiliana had been mute for the better part of a week now and she was not enjoying the experience. She wouldn't be even if she didn't have an important conversation in the offing; Liliana silenced, not the other way around. But having to continue to push back that conversation was maddening and she felt her resolve to actually have that conversation drop little by little every day.
Which, she assumed, was the point of it.
But just as Liliana didn't enjoy being mute, she also didn't enjoy being manipulated. Again, that was a thing she did, not a thing done to her. So that evening, while ensconced in her beloved bathtub, she decided that the only way to resolve this particular issue was aggressive confrontation. Fortunately, she excelled at that.
Listen to me, you pack of disembodied blowhards, she thought at the hubbub of whispers that were never silent in her head anymore, I have had enough. It's bad enough that you lot are in my head, but I absolutely refuse to allow you to affect the rest of me. Let me speak or I will drop the Chain Veil down a well and you can mutter to yourselves for the rest of eternity.
And then Liliana heard a sound that chilled her, causing her to break into goosebumps, even though the water around her was hot enough to redden skin. The voices of the Onakke spirits trapped in the Veil were laughing at her.
*Vessel of destruction...* all the voices whispered that, but it sounded like one voice was more prominent than the others, *...it is not our doing that binds your tongue. For the key to that riddle, Vessel, look to your greatest enemy.*
The voices in the Chain Veil had never spoken to her directly before. She was subject to their ceaseless yammering, of course, but that was more like being trapped in a room with a group of people carrying on a conversation about her, not with her. Occasionally they would be cowed into silence when she was particularly provoked, but that was the extent of their interaction.
Had it been the threat? The fact that she had spoken to them first and not simply to command they shut up? Something else?
Who are you? she demanded. How do you know that?
Only the usual whispers answered her, their nonsense words bouncing around her skull. *...nourished at the root...the harbinger...*
Ugh. Fine. That was another knot for her to untangle another day. Far more pressing was the possibility that this was the work of an enemy. Shocking no one, Liliana didn't lack for enemies. She made them far more easily than friends. So which enemy? Nichol Bolas? Tezzeret? Baltrice? Sorin Markov? Avacyn? Had Jace shown his true colors at last?
But no. Because the voice hadn't said an enemy, but her greatest one. And that left only--
Raven Man
Now aware of her quarry, Liliana ruthlessly examined herself, searching for the magic that was affecting her. It was a long hunt, because she was full of restless seething mana, but Liliana could be quite patient and focused when she chose to be.
And she found it. A thin thread of mana around her throat, so tiny she might have missed it entirely had she not been searching. With a silent snarl, she verified that it wasn't connected to any greater magics and then tore it apart.
Immediately she began coughing again, great wracking spasms that started off quiet and then crescendoed into loud barks that echoed through the bathing chamber. And at the end of the fit, she coughed something up from deep in her chest.
A small, glossy black feather, that floated on the surface of the water for a heartbeat or two before dissolving into nothingness.
[For the paramour, please, and a conversation long-delayed.]
Which, she assumed, was the point of it.
But just as Liliana didn't enjoy being mute, she also didn't enjoy being manipulated. Again, that was a thing she did, not a thing done to her. So that evening, while ensconced in her beloved bathtub, she decided that the only way to resolve this particular issue was aggressive confrontation. Fortunately, she excelled at that.
Listen to me, you pack of disembodied blowhards, she thought at the hubbub of whispers that were never silent in her head anymore, I have had enough. It's bad enough that you lot are in my head, but I absolutely refuse to allow you to affect the rest of me. Let me speak or I will drop the Chain Veil down a well and you can mutter to yourselves for the rest of eternity.
And then Liliana heard a sound that chilled her, causing her to break into goosebumps, even though the water around her was hot enough to redden skin. The voices of the Onakke spirits trapped in the Veil were laughing at her.
*Vessel of destruction...* all the voices whispered that, but it sounded like one voice was more prominent than the others, *...it is not our doing that binds your tongue. For the key to that riddle, Vessel, look to your greatest enemy.*
The voices in the Chain Veil had never spoken to her directly before. She was subject to their ceaseless yammering, of course, but that was more like being trapped in a room with a group of people carrying on a conversation about her, not with her. Occasionally they would be cowed into silence when she was particularly provoked, but that was the extent of their interaction.
Had it been the threat? The fact that she had spoken to them first and not simply to command they shut up? Something else?
Who are you? she demanded. How do you know that?
Only the usual whispers answered her, their nonsense words bouncing around her skull. *...nourished at the root...the harbinger...*
Ugh. Fine. That was another knot for her to untangle another day. Far more pressing was the possibility that this was the work of an enemy. Shocking no one, Liliana didn't lack for enemies. She made them far more easily than friends. So which enemy? Nichol Bolas? Tezzeret? Baltrice? Sorin Markov? Avacyn? Had Jace shown his true colors at last?
But no. Because the voice hadn't said an enemy, but her greatest one. And that left only--
Raven Man
Now aware of her quarry, Liliana ruthlessly examined herself, searching for the magic that was affecting her. It was a long hunt, because she was full of restless seething mana, but Liliana could be quite patient and focused when she chose to be.
And she found it. A thin thread of mana around her throat, so tiny she might have missed it entirely had she not been searching. With a silent snarl, she verified that it wasn't connected to any greater magics and then tore it apart.
Immediately she began coughing again, great wracking spasms that started off quiet and then crescendoed into loud barks that echoed through the bathing chamber. And at the end of the fit, she coughed something up from deep in her chest.
A small, glossy black feather, that floated on the surface of the water for a heartbeat or two before dissolving into nothingness.
[For the paramour, please, and a conversation long-delayed.]
Re: NFB from here, please!
Date: 2024-05-09 09:13 pm (UTC)Which he knew, as he said it, was just more pragmatism, but what did she expect? Laying out a plan, a course of action, made sense to him. Emotions, on the other hand...
A hand drifted up to Liliana's hair, brushing it back as his fingertips trailed along her cheek. No. That wasn't right. The emotions made sense as well, he just didn't have the tools to manage those as well as he could facts and details and plans...
"I think," he said, "that's enough. For tonight. In the morning, I'll go speak with the gnomes about the viability of a portal to Shandalar, but if you're to read anything, I want it to be something where I can just enjoy the sound of you, without having to also think of the Chain veil or daemons or pacts or whatever else. I just want you."
Re: NFB from here, please!
Date: 2024-05-09 09:47 pm (UTC)Liliana was never going to be entirely comfortable with opening herself up this way and just sharing, but every time she did and it didn't go horribly wrong, it made the next time just a tiny bit easier.
Since his face was already tilted towards her anyway, she leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't the immediate fire of their kiss in her bathing chamber, it was more of a banked heat, a slight blowing on coals that were never allowed to go cold to check that they still flared.
"I can read to you, my 'Nys," she said. "I have begun reading Spenser's The Fairie Queene. It may surprise you, but I also have thoughts about faeries. I am the Left Hand of Oona, after all."