Title:    The Blade and the Stone
Date:     February 2, 1999
Cast:     Khalid I/III, Thalia
Scene:    A conversation on the hillside gives rise to a surprising question... a proposal.

     No more than a hour or two has passed since scouts on fast horses road into the camp,
declaring that Empyreal legions had been spotted on via Arelate, ahead of a migration of
refugees. Whispered rumors spread through the encampment as to this new development. Naraki
and shudra look balefully between themselves, while Warlords scan the horizon for trouble.
     Khalid, however, is either unaware of these developments or uncaring. He is perched on a
newly favored hill and Thalia has been summoned to him. Black wings stretch and coil, as the
muscles are worked and exercised.
     How she wishes she could stretch her wings! Thalia grows weary of having them pinned
and restrained, the bindings a constant reminder of her imprisonment. The sky stretches
overhead, calling to her, but it is as if she is a bird in a cage -- denied the freedom of the wind
and can only sing mournfully to it. Despite this, however, she has never once complained or
bemoaned her fate, simply dealing with the situation the only way she knows how -- with quiet
grace. She makes her way up the hill, flanked by her dark escorts, and picks her steps carefully so
as not to stumble. Settling in beside Khalid, she remains swathed in silence for a long moment
before drawing in a soft breath. "You summoned me, Amir-al?"
     "Yes, I did." Khalid's words are subdued, barely spoken, as if he had been in quiet
contemplation. Dismissing the Agni-Haidar with a slight wave of his hand, his fiery blue eyes go
to her wings as he speaks, "Do you wish to be free, Thalia?" His hands fall back to his sides, near
his sash.
     Thalia's mouth catches up into the tiniest of smiles, subtle amusement lighting her grey
eyes. "Why no, Amir-al," she replies in a warm, teasing whisper. "It is my fondest wish to remain
captive forever." A chuckle is delivered out beneath a breath -- at least she has some good humor
about the situation. She turns her head, watching the Agni-Haidar take their leave, and grows
thoughtful for a quiet moment. "Is there anyone who denies your wishes?" she asks, gentle
curiosity lacing her tone. Glancing back to the God-King, she regards his countenance briefly
before adding: "I mean, in the end?"
     Chuckling low, faint mirth colors Khalid's tone as he responds, "I am glad to see you still
have your wits about you, Thalia." Blue eyes flicker over her wings and under his scathing
regard, the bindings fall free. The metal felt warm, just for a moment, before they collapsed.
Leaving her wings utterly unshackled. His gaze is stolen from Thalia for a moment, so as to roam
across a naked, steel blade that lies on a stone beside him. Lifting his head, he watches the
Agni-Haidar retreat as he murmurs, "I have been denied many things in my life, Thalia. And you
may call me Khalid."
     Thalia gasps as the bindings slip free, her back arching faintly as her wings stretch out. It
is a moment both blissful and filled with pain, her body touched with the sweet ache of release.
Feathers of snow brush against Khalid, accidentally, and tangle a brief moment with his dark
plumage before she settles them in loosely behind her. Gratitude washes over her expression,
grey eyes -- like summer storms pulled down from the sky -- finally make their way back to the
figure beside her. "Thank you," she breathes, a bit of a catch in her voice. Reaching a hand back,
she rubs at a shoulder in attempt to chase away the tightness in her muscles caused by the
restraints. "Thank you very much." A smile like he's never seen slips along her lips, the emotion
it was borne from indiscernible at this point. "And you may call me Thalia."
     All other thoughts leave Khalid's mind as he watches her bask in her newfound freedom.
A soft smile finds its way across his lips, chasing away some of the hardship, anger and concern.
Blue eyes mellow in tone and intensity, crinkling at the edges. He speaks finally, "It is nice, is it
not? To taste freedom once more, when it was lost?" He nods to himself as he whispers,
"Thalia." Again his gaze finds the blade on the stone, before his attention focuses on your face.
"We must speak on a grave matter, lady of Tritonis."
     "Yes," she agrees, nodding her head as she continues to rub at her shoulder. "It is. Like
the first taste of cool water upon a parched throat." Thalia peers back behind herself, stretching
out one wing and then the other. It's a slow process, her feathered limbs tight and cramped from
disuse. "I would like it if you could take me flying, although I do not trust myself to the skies just
yet." Her lips remain caught in a smile, the woman obviously very pleased with this concession
Khalid has given her. This freedom. Trust. As seriousness finds his tone, her manner becomes
solemn as well -- a mirrored image of his although her grin is never quite chased away
completely. Yes, it does take its leave of her mouth but it remains in her expression nonetheless,
savored within the depths of her gaze. "What is it, Khalid?"
     "We shall fly," promises Khalid. "I will let you stretch your wings as necessary. And I
shall bind you no longer. I place my trust in you not to leave this army. You know my wrath if
you should abuse this trust." The God-King of the Varati takes a step closer as snow crunches
noisily under the heels of worn, but shiny black boots. "This war will end soon. It must. It cannot
go on for much longer. Yet, the end must -mean- something, Thalia. It must not happen again."
His fiery blue eyes find her own as he says quietly, "When I spoke of seeing through the eyes of
your enemy, I meant those words. Do you believe in them?"
     A soft, happy sigh is delivered to the wind, the thought of being able to take to the air
again like a dream made real. Thalia's hand slips off her shoulder, slender fingertips gliding
absently along her collarbone as she turns her eyes to the heavens. For a brief moment, she seems
very young, so swathed in the innocent purity that is the desire to catch the clouds within her
wings. "Thank you." For placing his trust in her. Filtering her attention away from the sky, she
shifts to face the man who draws closer. Pulling the words into her heart, she pauses and then
nods, nibbling ever so slightly upon her lower lip. "Yes. It is the only way, really."
     "Then you must consent to marry me." Those words are delivered like an ax to the neck
of the condemned on the chopping block. Khalid eyes track her reaction closely as he holds his
position so near to Thalia. Black wings raise up into the sky, heralding his announcement and
cloaking the pair in shadow against the twilight sky. Cool winds nip at his hair, threatening to
pull it free from the black lace binding he has used to restrain his lengthy, luxurious tresses.
     There is no violence done to the tranquil expression resting upon her face. No surprise; no
outrage. Just a slow blink. And then another. Surely, he cannot be serious. However, he does not
appear to be speaking in jest. Astonishment and confusion are tardy in coming to her manner, but
they begin to set in, Thalia's wings engaging in a slow snap outward. "You ... I ... " The woman is
at a loss for words, her sentiments drifting off into silence as she stands there with her mouth
hanging open slightly. Caught in that moment for what seems like an eternity, she just /stares/.
And then, finally, she snaps out of it -- she begins to laugh. "My goodness, Khalid. You have the
/oddest/ sense of humor!"
     "I do not jest, Thalia. Not on such matters as these. I have never taken a wife in all my
time. And never a Queen. Yet, I ask you to be both for the futures of our people." Khalid holds
his position; there is no intimacy to his words or posture. Only... urgency. Those magnificent
black wings hang in the air, as if poised to sweep down and pass judgment upon her. His face is
devoid of expression, but blue eyes blaze with such uncontrolled and unreadable emotions. "This
is a thing that must be done."
     Her laughter suffers an abrupt demise as Khalid's words take hold of her consciousness,
the woman's eyes widening to near-impossible proportions. "B--but..." She is confused, her
delicate brow pressing down in a physical reflection of this. "Khalid, you know that I am
married? My husband still lives." This is making very little sense to her and, for the first time, the
God-King witnesses Thalia truly flustered. Wings shiver in constant movement, pale feathers
stirred by agitation. "I mean ... that is ..." She takes a small step back, away. Trying to gain
control over herself, she swallows once and then attempts to continue in calm tones. "I think the
idea of you taking an Empyreal bride has merit and that, if accepted by both our cultures, has the
potential to begin healing the wounds between us." There is a 'but' at the end of her statement that
remains silent, although it speaks clearly enough within her gaze. But why me?
     "Do you understand, -can- you understand what this means to me? I have never, in all
these centuries, taken a wife. Or a Queen. Yet, I understand the need to do so in these dangerous
and uncertain times. And know it must be an Empyrean." Those glorious wings begin to fold
back against his body. Khalid's eyes are hooded with thick, black lashes. "But it must be someone
-strong-. Someone with the will and fire to be a -Queen-. It would have been Damaris, if she
were still alive. She is not; it must be you. I can take no other."
     What is it with men? Why do they always want what they can't have? Why do they
always shun the path of least resistance? Thalia shakes her head, loosening heavy locks of
silver-kissed gold about her face. "I realize the significance of you taking a wife," she begins, her
words soft and slow in coming. "Perhaps you have never taken one before this time because you
have been fated to take one now." Eyes which had found the ground roam up to touch upon the
God's face and the woman starts to reach out as if to touch him. To take his hand. To offer gentle
comfort. She doesn't, though, her touch lingering in that space between. "I also realize that you
wish to take a wife capable of the position. But, Amir-al ... /Khalid/ ... I am already married. The
only way I -could- marry you would be if I divorced my husband. And, from what I know of your
culture, a divorced woman is reviled within Varati society. Your people will be resistant to an
Empyreal woman sharing your throne to begin with. What will they say if she was divorced as
well? What will that accomplish?"
     "In the face of these last events, they will bow to my word, for my word is unquestionable
in this time. That is why I -must- act now, Thalia. And this is why it must be you. It must be a
Queen that can truly rule as a Queen. Of all your people, I see no other with the spirit and
strength. And wisdom." Khalid's words are laced with his strength of conviction, his total belief
in what is right and wrong. And what must be. And where she hesitates, he does not. A strong,
slender hand slips forward to catch one of her own as he speaks, "Listen to me, Thalia. Please.
You must divorce your husband. You must make this sacrifice. Much as I ask Aurora to make a
similar sacrifice. Much like I also make this sacrifice. The future of two kingdoms... and perhaps
the world lies in this decision."
     Thalia draws a quick breath as he takes her hand, as if a small surge of electricity was
passed between them. A spark. A flame. Fire. That breath is held, imprisoned within her breast,
and then set free with a shudder. "Is there anyone who denies your wishes?" she murmurs, just a
hush barely heard. She looks down, looks at the brush of his fingers against her skin, looks
through them. And then, up. To his face and into his eyes. "This is not something I can decide
now." Firm. She is not going to be moved on this. However, she did not say no. Not outright. Her
wings curl in, arcing around about her form slightly as if to shield herself from this. A press of
her lips; a crease on her brow. "Not now." She starts to pull back, to withdraw from Khalid's
presence, and all the while, she shakes her head. "I am not politically minded. I told you that
before."
     "You will learn to be, Thalia. You have such strength. I believe in you." Khalid's fingers
tighten around your hand as he raises it to his mouth. And as full, red lips part, he plants a gentle,
soft kiss on the knuckles of your delicate, slender hand. There is fire in that kiss. And passion. A
political marriage, perhaps, yet he has grown to have feelings for you in this time. "I loved your
cousin. And yet, all I ever was allowed to do was touch my lips to her hand. So I do this same to
you in hopes our future will be brighter." Releasing his hold on you, the God-King steps back
and glances to the naked blade. "We will talk again. In the meantime, lady of Tritonis, look to the
blade and stone and think upon the pair. Tell me what you see in them. When we speak again."
And with that, he retreats from the hill with steady, firm steps.

FIN