"I look ridiculous," Morrigan states, looking at herself in the massive mirror that her younger sister Minerva had insisted on bringing with her for Beltane. For a warrior her little sister has grown quite vain these days.

She looks at her unbound dark red curls that cascade down her back and the ridiculous midnight blue dress that her mother insist that she wears for the Quickening that will commence in a couple of days. First the Hunt, where everyone will feast on their catches, then the Disembarking, where the suitors will present themselves to the queens, then finally the Quickening, where the queens will demonstrate their gifts. After that the Ascension begins. A whole year for the queens to kill one another, it can be as brutal or merciful as they wish.

If Morrigan was queen then it would be a brutal death fit for a warrior. A beheading perhaps but maybe that's a little too dramatic.
And when the next Beltane comes there will be a queen crowned. How unfortunate it is that there isn't a war gifted queen in this cycle. But at least her mother can retreat back to Bastian. The war gifted don't like Indrid Down. It's had too many generations of poisoners. A tainted capital.

The dress Morrigan wears is a blue so dark that it deceives you into thinking that it is black but if you look closer you can see that it is not truly a dress of darkness like the queens' dresses.

Morrigan looks at herself again and huffs. She wants to rip the stupid thing off and put on a loose shirt and trousers but for Beltane everyone wears their finery. For these few nights it must be dresses, for these are special celebrations.

Nimue, who hasn't been forced to try on her Beltane dress, sits on her bed and laughs at her friend, shaking her head of glossy black curls,

"It isn't that bad," Nimue says, "it's actually rather pretty in my opinion."

Morrigan looks at herself in disgust, "I absolutely hate dresses," she says, annoyed, "and I'm a warrior, I wasn't born to be pretty."

Nimue collapses back onto the fur blankets and lies down, relaxing, she looks like a lazy cat stretching her legs out and going for an afternoon nap. Nox, her familiar, lies down next to her looking like the lazy sleepy wolf that she is. The large wolf is quite content as Nimue strokes through her silvery coat and rubs her head fondly.

"Mother would have a fit and you know it, I don't like it either but this is the one day of the year that we must wear dresses," Nimue says, "we can survive just one night while wearing finery."

Yes, their mother. Pele Murtra, the fiery matriarch of the Murtra family of warriors. Nimue's and Morrigan's mother though Nimue isn't related through blood but is a Murtra in soul all the same.

She was born a naturalist but she has the heart of a true warrior. And since her familiar is a wolf, so fierce and strong, the warriors do tend to not mind her true gift.

Still annoyed, Morrigan tries a simple defensive stance and can barely do it because of the dress,

"I would rather go bare where I can move properly then wear this stupid thing and be more vulnerable to any threat," the red headed warrior says in distaste, seriously contemplating it as she stares at the monstrosity of clothing she wears.

Nimue laughs, rising up to adjust her position, "Mor, must you be so cynical all the time?" Nimue asks chuckling to herself, closing her eyes for a moment, "just relax, everything will be fine."

Morrigan purses her lips but says no retort back as she sighs begrudgingly, smoothing down her dress, "Alright Nimue."

Nimue nods, content with her answer, "Alright I'm going outside now," she says, opening her blue eyes and standing up from her fur blankets and flattening her black curls down.

Morrigan smirks at her in the mirror and raises an eyebrow up, "Off to see a certain Milone boy?" she asks slyly, carefully watching for Nimue's reaction.

Nimue's face betrays nothing but she cannot hide the faint scarlet blush in her cheeks, "No, I'm simply going for a walk," she states, trying to keep her voice emotionless as she adjusts her jacket.

Morrigan's smirk widens as she watches Nimue walk towards the tent opening, "Alright Nim," She says, carefully starting to brush her hair, "whatever you say."

Nimue gives her a curt nod, satisfied with Morrigan's response. Just as she leaves, Nox walking beside her in tow, Morrigan shouts,

"Bid Kaiden good afternoon from me!"

Morrigan smiles to herself as she hears Nimue's loud huff of annoyance, then Nox's growl of equal annoyance and can practically see the vulgar gesture Nimue shoots at her and Nox bearing her fangs in response to Nimue's own reaction.

She wishes that Nimue and Kaiden would stop being so difficult and just openly admit their obvious feelings for each other, it is rather irritating but is a great weapon for teasing them both with, especially her younger sister Nimue. They are sisters but they are not related through blood. But that doesn't matter. Nimue will always be her sister.

Her mother had told her and Nimue when they were twelve when she had taken them to her private study which is always out of bounds. When Pele Murtra took you to her study, you knew it was serious.

Morrigan had asked her mother about Nimue's true family but her mother always dodged the subject cleverly with her words which was rather infuriating. But it was expected, her mother is a warrior but sometimes outdoes the Arrons in the fabrications she creates with so much ease and the lies she tells which she covers up with pretty words.

Though Morrigan supposes that she has too, she is the ruler of the island and cannot rule any other way, unless she wants to lose her power and the Murtra legacy as the strongest warriors on the island.

Pele used to be commander of the Queensguard when Queen Halia ruled and later she took her mother's position as Head of the Black Council; she is still a warrior but she now has her head filled with more politics than anything and that is something the war gifted do not usually toy with but Morrigan has seen her mother become quite the cunning politician over the years.

Shaking her head, Morrigan goes back to properly look at her Beltane dress. It is a sleeveless silk dress midnight blue dress with a very low cut v-neck which shows off her a little of her cleavage and her porcelain skin. Her skin is pale for living in Bastian under the sun, it's her natural complexion.

At other occasions on the island this dress would have been considered a little scandalous, it shows lots of skin and she doesn't have any support for her breasts. Not that she wears any normally, for her chest doesn't need much support. At least she doesn't have to wear a corset, like those poisoners love to do.

Unknown to Morrigan previously, her mother bought this dress for her when she was in Rolanth helping the elemental firecracker train. Not that the little fire queen is any good but she isn't as horrible as she used to be and Morrigan can offer the smallest amount of respect for that.

Nalani is a fun dancing partner for Morrigan and makes sure things never get dull. One day they will be good friends she can see it.

Smiling at the thought of yet enough spat with Morrigan, she hasn't notice that she is not alone in her tent. She sees the shadow of a stranger in the mirror and with lightning fast speed she turns and throws the knife that she always has strapped to her leg.

With deadly accuracy the knife finds its mark. Smirking, Morrigan turns around and sees the intruder pinned by their cloak to one of the many wooden beams that supports the tent.

"Fucking hell," she hears Nalani swear as she lower her cloak to reveal her irritated face that Morrigan has become accustomed too lately.

And she laughs as she sees Nalani struggle to remove the knife as the elemental keeps murdering curses as she manoeuvres out of her black cloak and just glares at Morrigan with those judgy little black eyes.

"What kind of maniac throws a knife at someone like that you crazy bitch?" Nalani questions furiously. Contemplating whether she should finish the job she started at the boat when they had their last fight and simply singe the red headed warrior's hair of.

Morrigan only shrugs, laughing to herself as she wills the knife to fly back to her hand which she catches perfectly much to Nalani's annoyance. What a little show off.

The war gifted girl sets the knife down before turning her gaze back to Nalani, her blood red hair swishing behind her at the sharp movement.

"Now what do you want your Majesty," Morrigan questions sweetly.

"For some bizarre reason that I deeply struggle to comprehend Rowan wants you to join by his tent, he needs to talk to you apparently," Nalani says in the same sickly sweet tone Morrigan spoke to her with.

"And can Rowan not come and tell me this himself, if he's so keen on protecting you nowadays why would he send you here to me alone" Morrigan questions, smirking as she sees Nalani's irritation.

"What on earth would I need protecting from here? I hope you don't mean yourself, that would be embarrassing for you," Nalani says ever so softly.

Morrigan snorts at that, "next time my knife won't miss."

"Try it we both know I'll burn you to ashes without a second thought before you even move that knife," Nalani replies with a bored expression.

"Touché," she says with a small smile then she thinks for a minute.

She is surprised Nalani is here. Usually the queens stay inside their encampments until the Disembarking. But Morrigan wouldn't like to see anyone try and tell Queen Nalani what she can and can't do.

"I'll change then I'll be right there," Morrigan says finally and Nalani nods, stepping around her discarded broken cloak while muttering,

"You owe me a new cloak Murtra."
———

Closing her eyes, Nalani savours and enjoys the sun rays that are bursting through the trees by her personal encampment. Such pretty spring days, such a change from dreary winter and the cold. Despite her being born at the end of December Nalani certainly has a distaste for that particular season, she is a queen of flames after all. Not of ice. Or of weather particularly.

So she does like spring and summer especially. But Nalani is happy to be here, finally the wait and anticipation is over. And Beltane is a festival of fires, it is her festival. So it will go by her rules. Though the fires won't begin until The Hunt later and then again in the future evenings in the next few days.

Vivianne has advised her to stay inside until the Disembarking but Nalani isn't one for authority. And why should she be? She's a queen. Not a queen crowned yet. But still, she wasn't born to obey. And she doesn't want to waste any of these beautiful days when she could be spending them with Rowan. Before she soon has to put up with some dreary suitors that will no doubt request court with her. She certainly hopes that because of their history in their dreadful little countries where men rule they won't expect her to be a maiden or for her to not take lovers. Ah her future king consort. He won't be Rowan so consequently he won't matter.

Still, she can spend this day with Rowan at least, without drawing too much attention.

Although once that war gifted wretch Morrigan finally changes, their privacy will be interrupted. Who knows where Nimue and Kaiden are? At least she can tolerate them a bit better. They don't clash with her as much as Morrigan does.

But oh well. She is content to relax here for a moment more as she watches Rowan replace a broken peg in his tent. He is bare chested, thankfully, and sweat is starting to line his beautiful tanned abs. It's from all that time in Bastian. It has changed his body for the better and Nalani can't help but admire. And he is rather handsome so looking at his face doesn't hurt either.

But she just stares, almost transfixed as he swings his mallet up and the peg is set within only two strikes. Bastian City has made him strong, he is something beyond just his gift and Nalani likes that. Though not as good as the war gifted who likely would've buried the peg in one swing or even broken the little thing.

He quickly discards the mallet, using his white shirt, which had been around his shoulder, to wipe his face and he turns, catching her staring to which she keeps his eye contact with a smirk.

"Like what you see," he says with a small smile.

She raises an eyebrow in reply and shrugs nonchalantly, "I've seen better."

"Oh really?" He says, his smile widening, "ah so some of the scrawny elemental boys in Rolanth must have caught your eye?"

"Of course not," she responds, "I just went to the war gifted's encampments of course, many of those muscled young men are hard at work, preparing for the Hunt ... tell me why should I bother with you Mr Westwood?"

Rowan smiles at that, walking over to her and leaning closer to her ear,

"I'll make it worth your while," he whispers and it makes Nalani blush.

But just as she begins to enjoy herself Morrigan appears out of the blue to Nalani's annoyance.

"Ah here comes the cloak destroyer," Nalani says, with a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes and Rowan pulls away from her as he nods at Morrigan in greeting who winks back at him just to irritate Nalani.

"Afternoon Mor," Rowan greets with an amused glance as he spied the jealousy flare up in Nalani's eyes who just keeps quiet for once.

"Hello Ro," she says, "as much as I enjoy the company of your sorry elemental ass, what do you want to discuss?"

He turns to Nalani before answering,

"Just excuse me and Mor a minute Lani," Rowan says kissing her cheek fondly, "I just have to ask her a small favour; anyways aunt Vivi is probably looking for you by now."

It takes Nalani a minute to consider it silently but surprisingly she agrees with a nod though Morrigan suspects its only because Rowan asked her. Otherwise there's no way in hell she would have listened. It confirms what Morrigan already suspects. They are slowly falling in love.

It is an odd thing for her to see. Rowan has been her friend for quite a few years and she has never seen him so bedazzled with a girl as he is with Nalani. Though Nalani isn't a girl. Not really. She's from the Goddess. Morrigan's lost count how many times priestesses have said that on the island over the years.

Nalani doesn't say goodbye, she just quickly walks off after giving Rowan a small smile and Morrigan a smile that looked more like a grimace, leaving Rowan and Morrigan alone by the thicket of trees next to Rowan's tent.

"Let's take a walk to the stream," Rowan says, beginning to walk in that direction, "I need to fetch more water and talk to you about something."

Morrigan nods, following Rowan as they head for the stream.

"Sounds intriguing."

Rowan doesn't want Nalani to hear this she wouldn't like it. And he knows his aunt Vivianne and Pele Murtra are allies. But that's not enough. He loves Nalani. He needs her to be safe and protected at all costs. He knows it is  not his place to interfere with queens business and but could not bare a world without her. He hasn't been back for that long but he is simply infatuated, she's so different from anyone else. Maybe it's just the queensblood in her, perhaps he's just drawn to that strange unworldly power.

But he suspects it's in people's nature to love queens, especially when they become queen crowned and are loved by so many. People are automatically drawn to them. They're not like others, perhaps they aren't even human. Who knows.

All he knows is he wants to be near her, be with her and protect her. Though he knows Nalani doesn't necessarily need or want protection. She can be quite dangerous herself with that elemental gift of hers. But he doesn't want to take any chances. Nalani is strong but so are they. The other triplets. Carina and Arwen are rumoured to have strong gifts after all, perhaps that is just propaganda spread by the Arrons and the Radurons respectively but still. Rowan will see their strength at the Quickening when they display their gifts though his attentions will be solely on Nalani that's for certain.

He and Morrigan keep walking. She has been silent but she's recognised when he's deep in thought by now so she retreated into her own thoughts as well.

But sometimes silence is nice. That noise of no words.

Morrigan has been a good friend for the years he spent in Bastian. Sent off because the temple didn't like his friendship with Nalani and because his father and mother never knew what to do with him. The temple recommended he train in Bastian City, to learn to be useful for Nalani's future protection and to learn discipline. His gift for earth used to get him in trouble, he found control of his emotions difficult when he was younger so that channelled into his gift and he'd often cause sinkholes and even mini earthquakes on occasion.

His aunt arranged it with Pele Murtra who was happy to oblige considering Vivianne is part of the Black Council. Training in Bastian City did help him but he missed home but his parents never seemed to want him home. No.

They travelled everywhere, even to various countries in the mainland for a time. He's convinced that they never wanted a child. Not really. Technically his name shouldn't even be Rowan Westwood, he should have his mother's surname like his father does. But he always insisted his name was Westwood for as long as he can remember. He wanted to show the surname of his aunt Vivianne has always been his family member who actually gives a damn and it certainly didn't hurt to share the surname of the most powerful elemental family in Rolanth.

"Mor," Rowan begins, snapping both of them out of their daydream, "I trust you so that's why I want to discuss something important."

Morrigan just makes a gesture for him to continue as she listens. She must admit she is curious what he wanted to tell her considering he didn't want Nalani to hear.

"It's about a favour and promise of something previous to me, it's about the protection of Queen Nalani."