Hiraeth

Viverescribere

Always looking to write
Original poster
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Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. Multiple posts per week
  4. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Prestige
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fantasy, Historical, Magical, Romance (usually within other genres), Dystopia,.





Melina


The village of Ewell always boasted a busy and well-stocked market. It seemed like one could find anything they wanted there, from a certain herb leaf all the way up to a fine-leather saddle worthy of a mighty steed. Due to the resourcefulness of the market, it saw lots of trade and, therefore, revenue, making it one of the more popular villages to buy produce from. People from two villages over even came to cast their eyes over the wears that were being sold or bartered for. Most of the time one could buy what they wanted for a decent prize. There wasn't a need, in Ewell, to sell above the worth of something, not when there was so much business you could afford to sell items at a decent prize and sell a lot of them.

It was one of the reasons why Melina preferred to visit Ewell, despite the risk. Although she had become a familiar face to some of the vendors and many now saw her as one of their own. Even if she wasn't. However it was better that they didn't know that. While Melina didn't mind some of the vendors, and enjoyed casual conversation with them, she knew better than to ever trust a single one of them with the truth. Friends could turn to enemies in a blink of an eye these days.

It's why she kept her hair pinned back over her ears, to hide the truth. For a single look at the pointed tips would inform everyone close enough to see them of what she was.

With the Kingdom of Findara searching for all creatures mythological and magic in order to kill them, and the Kingdom of Pendilor seeking them out to enslave and use them in battle, Melina was certainly stuck between a rock and a hard place. Although, that being said, it would have been stupid to remain within close quarters of Findara, especially with their soldiers extending their searches beyond their typical perimeters. It would be safer to stay within Pendilor's territories and pass off as a human... at least attempt to. That being said, it seemed to be working well for Melina at the moment, having been keeping up her act for the past seven months.

She kept her story vague as to where she lived, saying that she was about two miles north outside the village walls. Her tale spun with a mixture of lies and truths: she was a healer (true), her parents had passed during the influenza that swept the Kingdom five years ago (lie). It was much easier to keep herself straight and to not get caught out when some of her supposed life was mixed in with her real.

Melina took to Ewell to buy things she needed to survive, but also to sell pastes and herbs, grown and made within her little hut in the forest, to the humans. Not that they knew they were Fey made, though she had started to wonder if they would even care considering the amount of buzzing reviews she had received.

"Lina!"

The Fey woman stumbled back with a soft laugh as a little girl barrelled into her, smiling down at her as small arms wrapped around her legs. Instinctively a hand came down to rest on the child's head, and Melina raised an eyebrow, "Winnie, you're getting stronger by the day! I think you need to start being careful lest you bowl me over into the mud!" She moved her hand to the young girl's chin as she looked up with a giggle. The Fey's eyes ran over the face that looked up at her, taking in the gleam to her eyes and the rosiness to her cheeks, "You're feeling better now?"

Winnie nodded furiously, pulling back and twisting this way and that in order to ruffle up her dress skirts, "Much! Daddy said to thank you for your special drink. He said you saved my life."

Melina smile quietened and she crouched down, lowering her basket onto the floor, "You're very welcome, little bird." She murmured, tapping her nose gently, "Now, what are you doing today? I'm in need of an assistant and I can't seem to find anyone..."

"Me! Me! I can do it!" A hand shot straight up into the hair, chest puffing out with pride and the young woman laughed again, standing and straightening, "Well then, shall we get going? Can't afford to open the stall late. And, if you're extra good today, maybe I'll get us a strawberry tart from the Bakers for lunch. But you can't tell anyone okay? S'got to be our little secret."

Nodding, Winnie moved to Melina's side to grasp hold of her hand. From there the two walked to Melina's stall, the child skipping with every step.

@Dipper


Melina Loset


NAME
Melina Loset
NICKNAME/S
Lina
AGE
23
SPECIES
Fey
OCCUPATION
Occasional Healer
ATTIRE
Medieval peasant dress - linen, muslin, cotton. Leather boots, legging-type bottoms underneath dresses that can be pulled up and tied around the waist. Thick leather belts around the majority of her waist.
TATTOOS
None of note
PIERCINGS[/B]
Standard lobe || x1 ||
SCARS
Crescent shaped scar on back of hand near thumb ||
MARKINGS
When manipulating air/wind, lines of white/silver appear from her hairline. It almost looks like she is cracking as they appear from her hairline or the edges of her face.
FACE CLAIM
Alicia Agneson || Actress || Vikings ||



PERSONALITY

LIKES

The smell of mint || The smell of leather || The smell of parchment || The colour blue || Soft breezes on warm days || Strawberry tarts || Roasted wild boar || Mead || Storms || Thunder || Mist || Clouds || Swimming in lakes || Wind chimes ||
DISLIKES
Cranberries || Blueberries || Fish (alive or as food) || Ale || Stagnant/still air || Hail || Gambling || The colour yellow || Soggy bread || Closed spaces || The smell inside taverns || People being late || Rudeness || Superstition/old wives tales ||
HOBBIES
Preparing pastes for her healing jobs || Preparing potions for her healing jobs ||
HABITS/QUIRKS
Mumbles/talks in sleep || Blinks when surprised || Sometimes hums while thinking || Traces childhood scar on left hand when lost in thought ||
TALENTS
Air/wind manipulation || Healing knowledge || Knowledge of herbs || Magic manipulation ||
MAGIC/KNOWLEDGE
Herbal remedies for wounds/illnesses || General magic manipulation || Specialises/stronger in air/wind: can manipulate and create air-related elements at will and can affect the weather to a certain degree (e.g. creating hurricanes/storms) ||
MAGICAL INFLUENCE
When manipulating air/wind, lines of white/silver appear from her hairline. It almost looks like she is cracking as they appear from her hairline or the edges of her face.
FEARS
Being caught || Being enslaved || Being murdered for who she is || Being burned alive ||
HISTORY



Hex Code: #a4cbfd
 
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Melina


Melina moved to take the hot water bottle from the bedside table, checking to ensure that it had been wrapped properly and tightly around the object to avoid any unwanted exposure to skin. She paused at his words regarding the servants being skittish, eyes darting toward the door in which they had left before returning to him.

"Is that because of my presence, or something else that I don't know about? I know a lot of you believe we are bad luck." She questioned, moving again as she asked to gently place the hot water bottle at the bottom of the bed near the Queen's feet. She was careful to check that the woman's hands were also under the covers, wanting to get them as warm as possible too.

In reality, she would have wanted to get some ice for the woman's bruising, to constrict the blood and also reduce swelling. But with the royal being so cold as it was, Melina feared what could happen if she introduced any low-temperature related treatment.

"If she has any gloves... it would be good to pick those up on our way back too. I don't want to rest her hands on anything hot, but gloves should do." Melina then informed him, finally stepping back from her patient. Her gaze rose to meet his, and her hands quietly moved to clasp together behind her back, "Shall we? The sooner I can get the harder to identify items the quicker I can be back up here. Besides, I doubt you really want to be spending such personal time with a fey."

Melina took the few steps toward the bedroom door, pulling at the handle to open it. She partially turned back to face him, "Come on, little Prince, let's go."
 
Gareth shrugged and strode toward the door. "Don't worry about it."

He glowered as he passed, shutting the door behind them and locking it tight before heading down a steep stairwell to the next level, where he continued down the narrow hallway. The upper levels of the castle were a veritable maze, full of empty rooms his father cleared out decades ago for unknown reasons. Those rooms led to more hallways and more barren rooms and dead ends, so many, in fact, that one unfamiliar with them would surely die before they found help.

Learning them when you were young was your only real hope. Gareth led the fey on a twisting path further and further down, past the throne room and his father's office, and out of the castle through a tiny side corridor leading into the garden.

"Father wouldn't want me touring you around the castle. What do you think of the gardens?"

Well kept rosebushes crept along the castle walls, trumpet vines and an assortment of yellow and white flowers had been lovingly grown up the yard's benches and statues.

Gifts, he remembered. A dead sculptor, sent to war.

"The herbs are of there," he murmured, pointing to a more muted patch of greens on the far edge of the garden. "Whatever you need. Take your pick."
 





Melina


"That was my tour?"
Melina glanced to him, blinking as she continued to try and wrap her head around what she had just gone through. The maze of corridors and countless, uniformed doors offered no way of helping her remember the way out. "That was... a maze." She paused, brow furrowing as she thought about it more, "Is that why I've got a room in there? Because it's physically impossible to get out of there without someone who knows it?"

There was the potentiality that her air magic could simply help her should she decide to take a dive off his mother's balcony one day. But considering she had never tried such a feat... she wasn't particularly eager to figure out just how strong her magic was. It had been a while since she had really put some use behind what she could control, and she wasn't keen to end up splattered out on the cobblestones of the garden.

Her head turned to follow pointed finger toward the growing herb patch, lingering a second longer by his side before pulling away. Since she hadn't brought a pouch or even anything to tie them together, Melina would have to make do with using her apron to hold the ingredients for her poultices and creams. One hand held up the hem of the apron, while the other plucked leaves and bunches of what she needed.

"When did you mother first get ill? Was it after anything?" She asked, not looking at him as she worked. Melina was curious to find out more about the Prince and his seemingly cold father, but she doubted she would get anywhere with that line of questioning, so thought it best to simply stick to what he would tell her about. Her patient, and his mother.
 
Gareth hummed an affirmative. "My family and a few servants know. You'd die before you found your way out. That, or you'd remember enough to get back to your room."

Even now he could get turned around from time to time, lost in the maze of his father's empty rooms because, although he'd spend many years in this corridors, they never cemented themselves into his mind properly. The castle's curse, some of the servant's called it. Memory loss. His uncle had suffered it, his father suffered from time to time. His mother... She was resilient. If only her resilience would kick in now, when she truly needed it.

But all of this - the sickness, the war, his father's dwindling sanity - wouldn't go away overnight, fey magic be damned.

Plucking at a stray thread on his tunic, Gareth settled himself on one of the stone benches. "Shortly after the war began. Maybe a week? She fell ill quickly and has been steadily getting worse since then." He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. "Did you know my father's a superstitious man? He thinks it's a curse. They all do. I don't, but.. sometimes I wonder."

She wasn't an elderly woman, nor was she especially prone to illness. It was as he'd always said; she was resilient, and yet she'd fallen so far, so fast, that it was almost unreal.

"If you'd known her before all of this, you'd wonder why she was sick at all," he said. "If you're done, we can explore the gardens more. But my mother may need your help again very soon."
 





Melina


Melina stood once she had collected all that she had needed, slipping the bundles into the apron pockets and brushing off the dirt that had gathered as a result, "Can hardly blame them... it's very coincidental timing."

She couldn't disagree that a curse wasn't a possibility; she had met her fair share of witches, warlocks and other magical creatures who had the potential to bestow such an awful thing. However, while Pendilor weren't exactly treating magical beings well... they weren't ordering their slaughter like the royalty in Findara. Melina would have thought that, if it was a curse ailing his mother, it would have been directed to a royal in Findara rather than the Queen of Pendilor.

She took a few steps to stand before him, hands wiping down against the bodice of the apron to rid herself of any mud that may be staining her palms. The Fey woman then bowed dramatically at the waist, arms spreading out wide, "Your wishes are my command, dear Prince." She drawled, straightening again. There was a small smirk to her lips, eyebrow raising, "I'm happy for a further tour of these wonderful gardens, but should you want to go back... well, who am I to argue?"

Her eyes wandered over the rest of the gardens, head tilting slightly as she surveyed it, "Shall we?"
 
Curses, charms, a magician's trickery... Things were easier when you could see and touch and manipulate them, when anyone could learn their rules and limitations. Magic, on the other hand, was a mysterious sort, and he knew there was no magic in his blood. How could he ever hope to make sense of it all?

He suspected his father had had the same idea. Superstition, war, then a desperate bid for victory utilizing that which was hidden within their own borders.

Magic. It didn't slither under his skin like his father claimed it did, but the idea of it still sent uncomfortable chills up his spine.

"Quiet, will you?" The disrespect was bad enough. She was lucky they were in a relatively private location. "I'll show you the rest of the garden, then we'll head back to the castle. Not that there's much else to see," he said, making his way toward the hedges. Unlike the rest of the garden, these were poorly maintained. "All the artists were sent to war. Now we're stuck with these."

He wandered seemingly aimlessly through the gardens, pointing out points of interest with a dull tone and disappointed shrug. They'd wilt and disappear eventually, so he found no reason to grant them special attention-- not anymore.

"You know... my father kept plenty of your types here. Ah, Fey, that is. Wild magic, or something of that sort. Yet he never used them to tend the gardens..."
 





Melina


Her brow furrowed at his response, arms folding slowly across her chest as she observed him after his rather snappish command. Humans were so uptight and anxious.

"Fine." She mumbled, her previous teasing and playful display dropping as she fell into step just one behind him. Melina didn't really know what the etiquette was when with a Prince, since she hadn't exactly come across one before, so thought it best to be behind him rather than besides. Lest he misinterpreted that too.

The thought alone caused her to roll her eyes as she turned her head away from him to observe the rest of the gardens as they walked, humming briefly, softly, as he provided his lacklustre tour. Not that she was surprised, if this part of the garden had been created by those who wielded magic, then why would he care at all about it? To this human and his father, magic was a thing to be feared. And now hated because it was suspected of infecting his mother.

"Yes well... not all Fey have magic that pertains to nature, dear Prince." Melina mused, pausing besides a particularly neglected rosebush. Dead rose heads laid rotting in the plotted soil, "Perhaps the ones of my kind your father kept imprisoned here simply weren't the gardeners he was looking for." She snorted, but her tone lacked the amusement the comment probably needed.

Her head then turned to look at him properly, eyebrow raised, "Considering he's a superstitious man, I'm surprised he didn't try to keep this garden more well tended, if it was created by magic wielders. I'm surprised he didn't see the coincidence in your mother becoming ill the moment you decided to neglect these gardens." She shrugged, moving away from the bush to carry on walking, "Not that I think it would make any difference myself, it was just an observation."

 
"He didn't know that."

Most of them were ignorant to the ways of the fey, their magics and their oddities beyond the general stereotypes. They worked a trickster's magic that may or may not blow up in a human's face, and as such, his father constantly swung between trusting and scorning. Fickle bastard. It was his capricious nature and indecisiveness that rubbed Gareth the wrong way, and the more he gave it thought, the more concerned he grew with his father's - and his nation's - well being

"So he... turned to elves. And then he got rid of them, too."

Gareth scoffed. "Not even he is that paranoid. A garden is a garden. If he'd had a flower grown in my mother's name, he'd keep it far closer. Come along. This way."

Their tour, for lack of a better word, was coming to a close, and she should've acquired all that she needed. A messenger arrived awhile later with a list of things that needed his attention. Duty called for a prince always-- he had other things to attend to.

With a sigh, he guided her back to the castle's entrance. "I'll take you back to your room, but I've got other things to do for the day. You'll have access to my mother's chambers. Beyond that, the servants will keep that level locked." Servants glared at the fey as they passed. He waved them off irritably. "There's a bell on the door keeping you inside. Ring it, and someone will be by."
 





Melina


Not wanting to hear any more about how his father hunted for certain magical creatures before turning on them, Melina didn't ask any more questions to keep the topic of conversation going. She hated the idea of the dungeons she stayed a few hours in being full of her own kind, or with the elves he mentioned. It led to a shiver running down her spine, and her eyes to drop to the floor.

In fact, she stayed unusually quiet for the rest of the tour. No sarcastic responses, or irritating playful airs. Not even a serious comment regarding his mother and how she intended to treat the woman. It was becoming clearer and clearer to her now just how unstable her position was. Even if she did a good job, that didn't meant the king would keep her around. He could even get rid of her mid-treatment. Perhaps she too would then be sent off to war, just like the gardeners.

Even the dirty looks from the servants didn't evoke a reaction from her, like they may have usually done. Instead, Melina paid close attention to the bundles she had picked, barely hearing the Prince in his explanation, and only nodding when she came to realise that he had finished speaking.

"I'll continue tending to your mother this afternoon," she murmured once they came to a stop outside the door that would keep her locked within that level of the castle, eyes finally raising up to his again, "The room needs a good clean and air out, and I'm sure the hot water bottle needs refreshing. I'll... I'll then make what I think is best for her. It may be a tonic, though I may need help in getting her to drink it as-- as I'll need her to sit up to avoid... to avoid any choking."

Taking a deep breath in and then expelling it, she glanced away as if considering her next words carefully before looking back to him, "I would... recommend you visiting your mother a little more regularly, Prince. If I can't... help her, then you don't want to regret how much time you did spend with her."