Crafting Material of the Finest

Featuring Aila, Mordred and Circe

Mentioning Meander, Aethelstan, Charon and Hel

Summer, 769 YNA

Glenmore, Glenwood

Aila

Life was not as easy and clear as it used to be. Aila definitely remembered how straight the sun looked when she was a fawn. She definitely remembered how her heart just grew and grew whenever she was waiting for Aethelstan to make trips with her. She definitely remembered how the connection to the gods made everything full of sense and mystery at the same time. But now it was all different. The mere sight of a monster like Hel was enough to shatter worlds, but the touch - the physical and psychological touch had changed her life. She had felt this creature within her. Maybe she had cursed her soul. Maybe she had ripped something out of her. Maybe her soul was now waiting for damnation. Many times she had tried to pray to Father Óganach, asking for forgivness of what had happened. Begging him to look down upon his daughter who had no intentions of betraying her God. Many times her head had told her that such a prayer was in vain as it all was not her fault. She had not asked for this to happen. And yet she had those pictures in her head. Tall black figures talking about things she hardly understood, making the air full of electricity in divine fights that were far beyond what Aila could grasp. And amidst of the scene there was her beloved friend. Aethie. Amidst of he he stood. Amidst of it he said: I am a Blackwood now. A Heathen. A creature doomed to be crushed by the eternal roots of Earran’s Wrath. And yet. It was him. It was Aethelstan. And Aila couldn’t convince her little heart to hate him for it. While everything had changed, nothing had changed.

Aila paced along. It was still too much to grasp even though the veil of time had soothened the pain that tore her heart and head apart from each other. She had not talked about it to anybody. Not even Mordred. But she knew that this talk was ahead of her. Ever she could remember everything that had made her heart and head confused was a matter to be talked over with Mordred before she was able to solve it with herself. And as always it was hard to find a start. As always she had been together with Mo several times, the question on her tongue, but not yet able to speak the words, swallowing them back down as her throat knotted up. It had happened many times. How much she wished Mordred would notice her pains. But she knew if she wanted him to know, she had to tell him. He would not just look at her and know. Sure he had a particular sense for secrets, but obvious things were the kind of secrets that he struggled to solve.

Beside all those heavy thoughts, Aila had found some reliev in meeting Meander. A merchant. She was intrigued by the world that opened up in this stag who was so dedicated to his profession. Aila had spend a couple of hours listening and learning from him, and they had met up several times after that. Meander was travelling a lot as he told her. During summers however he was often in Glenmore around the Oldegrove trading his ware. And this summer, Aila had had her very own little idea and she was going to bring a it to Meander as a thank you for his time and patience with her. But for that she needed Mordred. Finding the young stag today was important now for two reasons. That was good. She could just start with the easy one before getting onto the hard stuff.

“Mo? Are you there?”, she called as she approached the little den Mordred had moved into for the time he was in training in Earran’s Rest.

Mordred

The young stag landed on the ground with a thud, his legs flailing about in the air, while he tried to regain his footing, eventually managing to find the ground underneath his hooves again so he could roll over to lay on his belly, before he shook his head and sat back up.

“That was unfair.” he stated.

“Live’s unfair, love.” the tall young doe just giggled and stuck her tongue out at him playfully with a giggle. She shook her curly mane and smirked at him with her eyes as white and shiny as those of a fox and indeed she was a vixen.

“What? Already got enough?” she teased again, snorting mockingly and swinging her hips as she pranced around him, her tail brushing over his face and along his body. A smirk then all of the sudden appeared on Mordred’s lips, a rare enough sight that could only mean bad and indeed the next moment he reached forward, grabbed her tail with his mouth, pulled her back while she gave a surprised bleat and with a swift move he had her on his back and jumping forward was holding her down with his own weight.

“Gooood! You naughty, naughty boy you!” Circe giggled yet again, blowing the wild curls out of her sight, just to once more stare up at him through these mesmerizing eyes of her’s, “You caught me, what am I to do now?” she purred, but before Mordred knew what happened her hooves that turned to paws and she had grabbed him, rolled them both over and was the one on top yet again. A frustrated noise escaped the young stag, while the same time he couldn’t help a grin in return to her smirk as she carrassed his face with one of her paws.

“Never feel on top, Mordred, never do. Those who think of themselves highest, fall the longest and hit the ground the hardest.” she said.

“Whose wisdom is that? Blackwood?” Mordred snorted.

“No, it’s what my own, honey, but maybe a wise old witch told me too.” the dark doe smirked.

A moment of silence followed, when all of the sudden it was broken by the call of a familiar voice.

“Oh, look who comes to cry at your shoulder?” Circe grinned.

“What do you mean?” Mordred’s brows furrowed.

“Something is bothering your darling, haven’t you noticed, you klutz?” Circe asked, one brow lifting while Mo just stared at her quizzically, “Gosh, you haven’t, of course you haven’t.”

“Are you spying on me?” Mordred however just said.

“THAT is what is bothering you most from what I just said?” Circe rolled her eyes.

“Urgh, whatever, get off now, please! Circe...please?” the young stag wiggled some underneath the doe, who just rolled her eyes, just for him to suddenly no longer have a doe on top of him, but a large raven, who spread her wings and flew off, “Don’t spy on me!” Mordred called after the bird, while he got back to his feet, watching the bird fly away. Just to make sure.

Aila

The filly furrowed her brow as she entered the scene. Mordred had his head towards the top of the trees, yelling almost … frantic. What was this? This didn’t look like Mo at all and in a heartbeat she forgot everything that was on her own mind. Aila had indeed learned a lot from her mother and she knew there was some kind of madness that made you think that you were haunted and spied on by trees and critters. “Mo? Are you… okay?” For a moment she hesitated. Sorina had also told her that people with this kind of madness could be dangerous as they did not see the world around them just like it was. But then, when Mo looked back at her, she lost the momentum of hesitation.

She quickly trotted over to him and pulled him into a close hug as always when they had not met each other in quite a while. She knew he didn’t exactly enjoy it, but they had talked it over and he agreed, that a hug was okay if Aila insisted. And she had insisted. “Nobody is spying on you, Mo, is there?”, she then said as she released him with a small lick of on his cheek. They had not agreed on that, so the young hind well knew she was risking some stupid discussion, but she was just too worried about him to not be more affectionate than Mordred liked it. He would survive it.

Mordred

The dark buck gave a slightly frustrated sigh, when Aila came trotting over to him and pulled him into a hug. What was that about again? She was probably being emotional about something again that Mordred either hadn’t noticed or understood. However, he let her hug him as per usual. They had agreed on her being allowed to do it and him not having to pretend to understand or like it. That certainly was an agreement Mordred could accept.

“Not right now, no.” Mordred simply stated, when she asked about somebody spying on him. Hm, she apparently had heard him call after Circe. Hopefully she wouldn’t think too much into it. He knew that Aila often tended to think too much into things and for some reason, he wasn’t all too keen on having to explain his, well, his darker side to her. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of it, but he didn’t want to drag her into trouble, just because of the people he knew.

A little grunt of disapproval escaped him, when she gave his cheek a little lick, followed by a stern glance. “What do you want?” he asked bluntly. He really wasn’t going to try make anything of her weird behaviour, he wouldn’t understand it anyway.

Aila

The hind tilted her head at Mordred’s answer, furrowing her brow ever so slightly in scrutiny. The colt however didn’t twitch a brow, just as ever and when he asked her what she wanted in his blunt, straight forward way, that was almost like a piercing tine, Aila was both: convinced that he was within his own self, and back to her initial quest, a spark of excitement flashing through her eyes.

“I need your help, Mo!”, she exclaimed: “I met this merchant, Meander. He is wonderful! He showed me so many things and how you use your hooves. And he has a mouse that helps him crafting teeny tiny things.” Aila hardly noticed how she trailed off the topic. However, under Mordred’s icy stare she realized she had to focus on the subject: “I want to craft a gift for him and I had an awesome idea, but I need your help with it, Mo!” Aila knew what Mordred was going to say: ’You already said that. Why do you repeat yourself’, so the filly made sure Mo didn’t even have time to open his mouth: “I remembered you talking about that wax bees make in their hives and how they renew it if it gets taken away. So I wonder, can you show me how to harvest beeswax? It’s so soft that it makes the perfect crafting material!”

Mordred

The dark stag just watched Aila unmoving when she fed him with pointless information about a merchant called Meander, whom she appeared to have traded with and now wanted to reward him with a gift. Mordred couldn’t quite see the reason behind giving someone a gift, who just had done his job, but he was quite glad when Aila finally came to the point and told him she wanted to learn to harvest beeswax, in order to make said gift she planned.

“I can.” he eventually just said with a curt note, “I need you to be aware though, that in order to handle bees you need to learn about them as whole. They are living creatures and demand to be treated with respect. You cannot just go and take their wax away.” he said very seriously, watching Aila through blue eyes. He was quite sure she wouldn’t treat the bees carelessly, but he also hoped she wouldn’t end up too sentimental about them either.

“They will also never be your friends. Are you fine with that?” he so added.

Aila

Aila tilted her head. It often happened. It often happened when Mordred opened his mouth. He just said a sentence or two and within an instance, Aila saw the world or a certain thing differently. And it had happened again. And this time it was in a very particular way - in a way that was not usually stuff that Aila learned from Mo. For a second she felt bad for having thought she could just go and take something from the bees. But then her enthusiasm took over. Of course! She was ready to learn about bees and care for them, and love them and… oh, dear, Mo’s blue piercing eyes once more seemed to be able to see right through her, and what he said next made her feel foolish and a little bit angry at the same time. Why did he always read her mind, and why was he just oblivious against emotions? And why did he have to kill every happiness that came with having friends - he just could have let her in the believe that they would be able to befriend. Deep within she knew he was right, but it would have been nice if maybe, just maybe, there was a way to actually befriend with bees.

Her ears flicked a couple of times while Aila considered what to feel and what to say. In the end it was this deep warm feeling that she could not quite put into the right spot, this feeling that Mo was right, no matter what he said. This feeling of a blind trust and an unconditional acceptance which made her nod: “I am.”

And then she gave him a bright smile: “But you are driving me up the wall at times.” And she had to smile even more when she realized, that he probably had no idea what she was talking about. It was okay. It always had been this way - he had always been this way. And somehow it was this weird, clear and logic approach to the world that made her admire him so much.

“So where do we go?”

Mordred

The dark young stag watched his friend wordlessly. He clearly could see that she was pondering. Probably pondering about bees and if they really couldn’t be friends. He never understood her urge to be friend with apparently everyone and everything, but he didn’t say anything about it. It probably was also good she was like that. Soft and kind and most of the time bubbling with emotions he hardly could relate to or even understand. Still. She seemed to be one of the few willing to just accept him the way he was and so he too would accept her. Even if he probably never would fully understand her way of thinking.

“Good.” he eventually said, when she agreed to be okay with bees not being friends, even if he wasn’t fully sure she wouldn’t still attach to them emotionally. When she added about him driving her up the wall, he however just squinted, not understanding why he would do that and why she was smiling at him like that, if he drove her up the wall. It was confusing.

“Sorry.” he however stated, feeling he probably should say that, before turning and motioning for her to come. He knew his hives and picked one he knew was peaceful and had plenty of fax, so it would be okay to take some of it.

“When we approach, you need to stay calm. This is a very relaxed hive, but they will defend the hive and the queen, if they feel you’re a threat. So, no whipping your tail or flicking your ear, even if they land on you. They will not sting as long as you’re no threat.” he explained as they approached the hive located in an old tree. It was large and hummed busily, bees buzzing about it.

Aila

Aila couldn’t deny she was somewhat excited and the thought of having to stay still and not flicker with her tail or ears and even worse, breath smoothly and stop talking all that much - yes, if she was honest the thought of all of this made her realize that the task they were about was much more something that fitted Mo’s domain rather than hers. And yes, this was probably going to be harder than she thought it would be at first. But nonetheless - this was an awesome idea and worth some trying hard.

When Mordred apologized she again couldn’t help but just smiling while she looked at him from the side. He might not exactly have been the most understanding fawnling Aila had ever met, but she hardly knew anyone who put so much effort into doing things the right way like Mordred did. “You don’t have to apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong, Mo” and with a smirk and a sparkle in her eye she added: “You’re just being yourself.”

They then approached the beehive where a busy hustle and bustle buzzed towards them from quite afar. Aila was holding her breath without noticing, actually just trying to stay very calm and at the same time concentrating on what Mordred was doing. He didn’t seem to be scared. He was not afraid of stings. He was never afraid of any sort of pain in fact, but this was not the reason he was fearless now. He knew his bees and Aila would have made every bet that he would not get a single sting. As a fawn he got stung a couple of times, mostly it had been her fault - the mere memory made her smile again. For a moment she was confused - why was she in such a good mood today? After all that had happened she had been wearing a heavy burden on her chest. She quickly decided to just let it be the way it was and again looked at Mordred again to see what they would be about to be doing.

Mordred

The dark stag just squinted at his friend, when she told him he had done nothing wrong and there was no need to be sorry - he knew that. Hm, she really was quite a riddle sometimes. Now it was alright and sometimes it wasn’t. How was he ever going to get his head around this doe, if she always kept changing her mind on things? He however decided to just drop it, it wasn’t like he was going to understand anyway and besides that, they were soon approaching the hive, which was something Mordred understood a lot better than Aila or others in general anyway.

“Can you please pay attention?” Mordred muttered, when he noticed Aila beside him seemed to muse again. He really didn’t want her to get stung, just because she was lost in thoughts about something. He maybe had no concept of how it felt to get hurt, but Zeek had described it to him in very much detail and so he knew that it was something he definitely didn’t want for anybody he cared about.

“Very good.” he eventually nodded, when he turned his attention to the bees, who buzzed about them briefly, but seemed to almost recognize Mordred, for only moments later they calmed down again and returned to their duties. Mordred meanwhile took a peek inside the opening, basically putting his head into the hive, before drawing it out again.

“You’re lucky, there is enough honey to harvest some.” he spoke, “Come.” he motioned for her to come closer and using his magic, he widened the opening in the tree carefully, so Aila too would be able to see the shimmering, golden hive inside.

Aila

Aila watched Mo while he investigated the hive. She was a bit jealous of those bees. They got his full attention and above that… his icy odd blue eyes softened ever so slightly whenever they were around those little insects. They were the only thing that managed to bring this hue of softness to Mordred who otherwise really just analyzed everything through and through, his eyes piercing through the subject.

Aila suddenly noticed she had hold her breath in and slowly let it flood out of her lungs again. Every muscle on her relaxed as she did so. It was just then when Mordred mentioned that they were lucky today. But then the filly got a bit irritated: “But Mo… I don’t need honey.” She tilted her head. Had Mo been distracted?

Mordred

“What?” the stag just muttered, when Aila gently reminded him that actually the honey wasn’t what she had been looking for. His ears wiggled a bit, when his blue eyes wandered to meet her, looking at her skeptically for a moment, apparently really having forgotten what exactly they had come here for. Around his bees all his worries usually drifted far away and when he watched them, he felt at peace with himself and the world. There was so much chaos everywhere, everything was so loud and there were so many details, but with the bees everything was clear. Straight and clear.

Finally he gave a snort, “If you want wax, you will get honey.” he stated boldly, as obviously the actual reason for their task had returned to him, “You see the lighter cubicles where the honey is stored in? That is the wax. We can’t take those, the babies of the bees are in them, but we should be able to take a piece of these, they are for the honey and the bees won’t miss them quite as much.” he explained, “They will not like it though...we will have to distract them a bit, to ensure they will accept our offer for a trade.”

Aila

Aila watched Mordred intensly. Today was different than usual. Not very different, but still different. Already when she had approached Mordred he was strange. But now his blue eyes pierced through her. It was this intense stare that made her feel naked but recognized in her being as a whole at the same time. It was intimidating and strengthening. It made her weak and determined. Everything at the same time. And then the Mo she knew returned entirely as he pointed out that getting wax meant to get honey all the same. Aila was puzzled for a moment, but Mordred explained. He for sure was a very patient colt. Aila knew that, however it was not always an easy thing to see.

Aila gave a sustained: “Ohhh”, when he showed her the tiny perfect cubicles. All shaped perfectly well and connected together in uncountable numbers. The thought of baby bees developing within those perfect little houses fascinated her and for a moment she thought that she wholly understood Mordred’s love for bees. It was as if it connected them and Aila loved the moment.

Mordred then mentioned a trade however which made Aila puzzled. What would they give the bees in return for the wax? Flowers? She by now knew how to grow them, and while she was not as fast as Mordred was, she still adored her magical abilities. “Do we grow them flowers?”, she asked while she tried to sense the earth and whether there were seeds hidden which she could made grow.

Mordred

“You best offer them sweet, fermenting fruit, babe. They love the taste of sweets...then again, who doesn’t?” a voice suddenly purred, belonging to a tall young doe with wild curls, who was walking over to them with the confidence of a queen, each of her steps soaked with self-confidence as she swung her hips and shot Mordred a teasing smirk, her intense dark eyes almost looking like they briefly changed colour to a shining yellow, when she saw the glare he shot her from behind Aila.

She simply walked over to them, not seeming to mind the bees at all, her eyes focused on Mordred for another long moment, before her attention shifted to Aila and from one moment to the other she looked a lot less predatory and a lot more amicable, as she shot the younger doe a dashing smile of someone who knew she was damn beautiful, even if that was probably nothing you saw that often on a doe with such a rich, yet dark coat in Glenmore.

“Well, Mordred, don’t you want me to introduce me to your pretty friend?” the dark doe said and placed her tail over Ailas back in a gesture of friendship, apparently personal space not exactly something she worried about very much.

Mordred just gave a very long, very annoyed sigh before he spoke, “Aila, this is Circe...Circe, this is Aila. We were just harvesting some wax for Aila, so if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Oh! I won’t mind at all, I even brought a fine apple for the little bugs so they won’t sting.” Circe smirked, Mordred knowing her misunderstanding of his implicated wish for her to leave being very much on purpose. He just grimaced slightly, while Circe gave a whistling sound and soon a pair of large ravens came flying, having a soft, half rotten apple with them.

Aila

Aila was torn out of her deep focus on Mo and the earth and the bees. Something intruded their little world - or much more: someone. A tall hind all of a sudden appeared out of nowhere, answering her former question as if it was the most natural thing in the world to randomly appear and answer questions that were not directed at you. Aila shrieked a moment. The doe was far taller than Aila, even though from what Aila could see, she was probably only slightly older than herself. However everything about her was confident yet playful. There was a moment of doubt when Aila caught the glance she shared with Mordred. Something was odd about this, but Aila could not quite name it. But the doe was not one to give you time to ponder about what you think of her or the situation she was setting you into. The dark one just walked up to Aila with a smirk playing around her lips as she let her tail rest on Aila who was surprised at the sudden sign of closeness. But the feeling it gave her was one of a kind. This doe was one that everyone would follow in a heartbeat and there was not much in the world that would make you feel so important and “cool” than her giving you attention or even giving you the feeling of being wanted around. Aila was new to this kind of dynamics but she could not help but like the newcomer who now demanded to get introduced to Aila in a very playful way - yet there was nothing anyone could have object against her.

Mordred until now had mainly just stared his poker face stare. But now as he talked Aila realized one thing: It was the same annoyance he sometimes had with her, when she could not quite bring herself to be on spot. Aila looked from one to the other and back. They knew each other - and it was all of a sudden obvious to her, that they knew each other well. And she made him… angry… and as the scene unfolded in front of the conflicted hind, Aila realized why. She took Mordred literally. The one person who tended to take all the others literally who struggled to learn small talk - and now he was using it, he got thrown it back into his own face. Aila didn’t want Circe to make Mordred uncomfortable, but she also didn’t know what to say or do. She just stood there and gaped awkwardly.

She had halfways gathered herself as all of a sudden two ravens came flying. Not just any kind of ravens. They were too big. Too big indeed, just like their master. This was all a bit much for Aila as she finally stepped back behind Mo as if hiding from the scene - not that she thought it would help anything, but she just wanted to retreat and let Mo handle it. He seemed to know what this was all about.

Mordred

The tall doe gave a little smirk, when Aila slipped out from underneath her tail and retreated behind Mordred as her two ravens came flying. The large black birds bickering and fighting over the apple they had brought for their mistress, until she put her hoof on it gently, the ravens immediately letting go and instead flying to take perch on her back, where the bickered again for who would sit where, until they seemed finally done and instead turned to stare at Aila, low noises escaping their throats, while their heads tilted from one side to the other only interrupted by biting at each other again, every time one came too close to the other.

“Awww, don’t be scared of Hugin and Munin, Baby. They just look scary, they are good boys. Very good boys.” Circe hummed at her last sentence her intense eyes focusing on Mordred for a moment, who just gave a snort.

“Well then, thank you for the apple, Circe...” Mordred began, yet was interrupted by Circe, when she stepped onto the apple and crushed it. The sweet smell of it soon filling the air and soon enough the bees came swarming down to feed on the juicy fruit.

“They got a sweet tooth, you know. Then again, who doesn’t?” the dark doe winked at Aila, before motioning towards the hive, “Go on now, this is the moment.” she smirked, Mordred giving a reluctant nod, Circe was right, if Aila wanted to harvest wax now would be the best moment, while the bees were distracted.

“Break off a piece on the bottom, use your teeth and no force. They break easier than they look.” he instructed his friend with an encouraging nod.

Aila

To the fillies surprise, Mordred didn’t handle any of the situation. Circe seemed to be on top, leading the conversation and with it the whole scene. Mordred seemed to try and take over at one point, but even he seemed to know there is no chance. There were multiple moments where Aila had the impression that between Mordred and Circe there was some sort of mystery - an unknown secret that only concerned them. Aila decided that she would ask Mordred about Circe later. They seemed to know each other quite well and while Aila was intrigued by the tall doe’s aura and her playful approach to things, she didn’t like it for some reason she couldn’t quite name.

But for now she dove her head into the hive. A strange thing to do, she thought, but once she reached the wax her fascination grew. It was soft without being wet. In fact you could not tell whether it was wet or dry at all. It was just… soft. When she laid her teeth around the edge, they instantly dove into the material. This was perfect! Carefully she pulled without using strength. The combs bent slightly and Aila noticed a few bees that started to fly around the place that was moved. ‘Slower, Aila. No haste’, she thought to herself while she kept pulling the comb upwards carefully. It didn’t break. It just bent until it almost magically detached from the rest. Aila had to control herself with great effort in order to not pull the treasure out fast now. She slowly carried the comb, making sure not to touch any other parts of the hive while pulling it out.

Once the wax was safe and sound out of the hive and all bees had flown away from it, Aila carefully stowed it away into her leather pouch. Then she nudged Mordred’s mane affectionately: “Thank you Mo! This will give a wonderful gift” she drew back and looked at his uneasy face. He just didn’t like it and the presence of the other doe seemed to worsen the effect. Aila gave a little laugh, leaning her body against his strong shoulders as she addressed Circe: “Oh, and thank you too, of course”.

Mordred and Circe

Mordred watched Aila go to work on getting herself a piece of wax, quite impressed by how she managed the situation with the buzzing bees around her. He shared a short glance with Circe, who just shot him a smirk, her eyes briefly flashing the same brilliant blue that his eyes were, just to turn back to their usual brown, whenever Aila returned with a fine piece of wax between her lips and apparently no sting, thanks to the bees very much distracted by the sweet apple they had been offered.

One of his brows lifted slightly, when Aila suddenly leaned against his shoulder. He was used to her sometimes feeling the need to grant him some sort of, to him, unnecessary affection, yet these usually were soft kisses or little hugs. The way she now leaned against him, while addressing Circe was...odd.

Also the other doe reacted funny, a little smirk playing on her lips as she looked down at the smaller doe in a way he usually found her looking at him shortly before she’d toss him over during a sparring, yet the does didn’t suddenly begin to spar, Circe just tossed her wild mane with a confident flick of her head and with a wink said, “Welcome, Babe. Us does gotta make sure to help each other to get what we want, no?” she said with a strange sparkle in her eyes, just to also shoot Mordred a wink and with that and a casual “See you around.” simply turned and left with her ravens in her wake, leaving Mordred rather confused...does indeed were much more a riddle than bees ever could be.