[A z z y]

Decisions had to be made, decisions that she did not want to make for various reasons. The loss of Selven, despite it being several months now, still pained her. Thomasin still ached for his loss, coupled with the loss of the twins and her beloved companion, Black Phillip, she wondered how many more losses she could truly endure. How many more lashes would she take from the whip held by others until she truly retaliated, until she ripped that whip from them and flayed them with it where they stood. Daily, she hoped for his return, but over time, that hope had faded. He was either dead or he had chosen to desert her and his kingdom, leaving the position open. She had held off announcing his loss for as long as she could, afterall, despite his importance to her, she still felt as if she ruled alone, and had done so since taking the throne. Two bastards had thrown their hats in the ring for the spot beside her, two very different beasts. One she knew, one she had never heard of or seen before. Had the position beside her become vacant at the beginning of the war, perhaps her choice would have been different - yet out of the two, Belial felt like the correct choice for the kingdom now, if not for her.

Which was partly why she had ventured to these barren lands. The lands had passed hands as frequently as the King's throne had asses upon it. Azriel had taken it over when Gidge had changed his allegiance, and had done little with the realms since. Another had come and challenged - Wrathion, a brute that held promise and reminded her of the stallions who used to own lands within the dark kingdom. Only he soon decided against leading the lands, leaving them vacant of a ruler. He had offered to remain, as a guardian, as her eyes and ears, until a suitable lead was found. And whilst none had come forwards directly, the witch queen had found her mind wandering to the behemoth who had vied for the position beside her. Whilst she had chosen another as King, it did not mean she did not see Malice's potential. Despite his arrogance, his thuggish appearance and his almost aloof approach to her, she had seen the streak within him that she too had - a savage streak. It was why those such as Charm and Rianne excelled within the kingdom. They were loyal, they were vicious, they did not stop. Those traits she saw in them, in herself, she also saw now in Malice. To not offer him this would be a failing on her part…

Her slender yet toned shoulder muscles slid under the pliant inky exterior of her flesh, her mass moving easily up the emerald slopes as she came to a halt. Those golden optics scoured the bountiful realm below, curious to what the ivory behemoth would make of her offer. With that, the witch queen released her summons, a call to Malice, a call to arms. How would he receive this moment? Would he accept willingly or begrudgingly? Would he prove to be the asset she hoped him to be, or would he prove to be a thorn in her side that would need to be forcefully removed in time…

TAGGED - ✦ F a e r i i e f o x ✦
WORDS - 556
MUSE - okay
NOTES - for Thom to offer Malice the lands as planned.
Zohyd// tagging for mention of Wrathion
aliyaah tagging for transparency.
Speech

[✦ F a e r i i e f o x ✦]

Malice had been brooding in the shadows of the darkened forest when the call reached him. A low, guttural sound, almost a growl, rumbled in his throat as he recognized the summons. The witch queen had decided to seek him out—a move he hadn't entirely expected but one he had anticipated in the dark corners of his mind. He knew his presence had made an impression, even if his initial approach had been more of a challenge than a plea for power. Maybe because he would never plea. He knew however that he had not been chosen as king. There were rumours and whispers upon the winds, and the summons had taken too long. He did not fret, yet he knew that he would never deem anyone else worthy of the position.

He moved with purpose, the underbrush whispering against his scarred hide as he made his way towards the emerald slopes where she awaited. The moonlight, faint and cold, glanced off his bony white coat, giving him an ethereal, almost ghostly appearance. The landscape was barren and rugged despite its greenery, a fitting reflection of the war-torn kingdom it had become as of late.
As Malice emerged from the shadows, he saw her—a dark figure against the backdrop of the night, her golden eyes gleaming with the intensity of one who had lost much and yet still held the weight of power. He was curious as to why she had called for him to such a place. As far as he had heard in rumours, this place was empty. Nothin and no one of value was seated her, it was just an abandoned memory if something it used to be.
Malice approached slowly, each step deliberate, his towering frame radiating raw power and unyielding resolve. As he drew near, he inclined his head slightly—not in submission, but in acknowledgment of her position. His eyes, burning red with the fire of ambition and chaos, locked onto hers.

"You've called," Malice began, his voice a low, ominous rumble. "And I have answered."
He paused, letting the tension between them hang in the air like a knife poised to strike. His gaze was piercing, unblinking, as he waited for any answer as to why he had been called here at this hour. There had to be a good reason that the Dark Queen had called him, one who had apparently not made the cut for the position beside her, to this place. he was curious as to why, and intended to learn of why before he left here. He could almost hear the wind through the pillars at the Colisseum from here, that's how strange a place this was, nestled in between so many things.





tag; A z z y
notes;

credit for art - faeriiefox