ATTENTION: I do NOT own ANY of the character, they ALL belong to ANNE BISHOP(God bless her soul for creation such a fantastic series!)
Okay, this particular episode happens somewhere in the middle of The Shadow Queen. In truth, I only started writting this about a year after I read The Shadow Queen. I read the part when Lucivar, Saetan and Daemon are having lunch or something in the Keep and Daemon says that Surreal was feeling a bit croweded by all the trees in the Dea al Mon Territory. Yeah, at the time i LMAO but then, months later, I was getting dressed for school and the idea hit me - you know, one of those epiphanies that you get out of the blue about the stupidest things - anyway, i had one of those and when i realised i had the whole thing planned out - i usually plot things in my head. Started wriiting it on a very boring Portuguese class, then I lost all interest over it, then I heard Walking in the Air by Nightwish - one of my favourite songs from one of my favourite bands (Tarja rules!) - and i don't know, one day, when i stayed home because of food poisoning, i decided to finish it. Ahhh, well...
Main inspiration: Walking in the air (C) Nightwish
I love Surreal, I really do, but I would trade her for Chaosti any day...*Sigh and drools all over the laptops keyboard*
Note: Chaosti is NOT hitting on Surreal, he is just being himself as I imagined him, which is a super-mega-hiper-mouthwatering-ass-spanking HUNK of blonde elf...er...Dea al Mon Warlord Prince!
It makes me sad seeing such a great character being neglected in such a way...
I'm new at this, so ratings are welcome! Please!
Oh, and of course, enjoy my poor effort!
Day five in the Dea al Mon Territory. After five days of jet lag, and sore muscles from Lucivars so-called "training", Surreal was considered fit enough to venture outside of the Queen's residence.
But, as her Dea al Mon kin informed her, that Territory wasn't like other Territories. Surreal figured that mostly because it was crowded by huge, dark trees. Everywhere. The houses were made in the trees, or around the trees, or between the trees, and there were no roads worthy of the name. Surreal had asked Gabrielle, the Dea al Mon Queen, how did they move around. Gabrielle just looked like she was a simpleton or mad, and said: "We walk."
So there she was, standing in a very thin, very weak-looking branch, a hundred feet from the good, old, safe ground, learning how to properly walk on trees.
Facing her was one of the sexiest men she had ever met. Tall for a Dea al Mon, lithe, slim and sinewy like a mountain lion, with long silver-blond hair and huge forest blue eyes. If he were in Terreille a few years ago, the corrupt Queens would've been all over him. He was a Gray Jeweled Warlord Prince, the Warlord Prince of the Dea al Mon, Consort and husband to the Queen, a man that could be an astonishing adversary to all foolish enough to pinch the explosive temper innate to that caste of men, and that in him it was always half a second from the surface. Worst of all, he was her cousin.
"Come on." Chaosti said. "Walk over here."
Surreal looked at the ground, far, far below her. "Hum…Can't we start on a lower branch?"
Chaosti grinned in a way that reminded her of her Eyrien – prick-ass – cousin.
"This is a lower branch" he said.
Ah, shit. Sigh. "Right. Here I go..."
One step down. Two steps down. Three steps. The she was really going down.
Strong arms grabbed her around her waist and pulled her to the starting branch. Surreal kept her eyes shut the whole time.
Suddenly, something extremely strong frizzled up her nose. She coughed.
" Hells Fire! What's that?"
Chaosti said: "Smelling salts. Gabrielle said that you might need them." Then, always the gentleman, he created a Gray net bed beneath the branch, so that when she fell, she wouldn't land her ass on the ground.
She cursed viciously. He stood impassive, hands clapped behind his back, just waiting for her.
So she tried. And tried. And tried again. She fell so many times that she lost count. Always Chaosti used his Gray to haul her to the starting branch, looked at her with those gorgeous eyes, and said: "Again"
At noon, she lost her patience.
"I can't do this."
"Of course you can." He walked to her, graceful, virile, powerful, in complete balance with himself and everything around him. With one finger, he brushed her black hair away to reveal a delicate pointy ear. "It's in your blood."
She swallowed the emotion in her throat. Damn it. Damn his male charme. "Well, perhaps that part of my blood is missing."
"Perhaps you shouldn't try to walk on trees on high heel boots."
"Your wife walks on high heels!"
"My wife has been doing this since she got her feet under her, Surreal."
She cursed even more viciously than before. The bastard just grinned that typical Warlord Prince grin.
Then to her cursing joined a high pinch, baby happy, happy cry.
Surreal felt Chaostis' fierce joy as little Aiden ran to his papa like a little silver panther cub.
The boy was only a toddler, and yet he was able to leap across the branches with a natural predatorily grace that plainly came from his father, and she, who was centuries old, couldn't take four steps without falling on her ass!
"You really know how to bruise a woman's ego, don't you, boyo?"she thought
"So, how is the training going?" Gabrielle asked as she joined them.
Surreal bristled at the word training.
"Surreal is having a little balance problem."
Gabrielle glanced sympathetically at her. "It happens to everyone."
Nice words coming from a woman who was standing on one foot on ten-inch heels.
All of a sudden there was a horripilate shriek, and a creature appeared out of nowhere. It was about the size of a ten year old, covered in gray-green fuzz, with four hands, each with razor sharp claws that could rip a man apart, and an impressive row of pointy teeth. A Yumu, a flesh eating demon. Chaosti and Granmommy Teel had warned her about it, had warned her about its taste for human flesh, and how it could tear a person apart with its claws. Just earlier that day, Chaosti had actually gone so far as to politely prohibit her of going to wild regions of the woods without a strong escort – namely him. As if she ever would want to go to the wild.
Suddenly, Chaosti, Gabrielle and little Aiden were nowhere to be seen.
She didn't care about the heights, or the falls, or the thin branches. Surreal ran.
She ran as fast as she could. She tree-walked, she air-walked, she didn't know what she did, how she did it, she didn't give a shit. All she wanted was to get away from that ball of fur, claws and teeth that seemed to have its mind set on catching her. And then killing her.
She found herself cornered against a tree, hundreds of feet from the ground, with nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. She watched as the Yumu approached her, silent, intense, watching her every move through dead black eyes, a predator evaluating its pray, savoring its victory when it realizes that it has its pray cornered. His jaw was wide open, revealing a set of remarkable teeth that could destroy a human body more thoroughly than an Acerian cat. Quite a fearsome creature, quite fascinating in a way. Looked like it came out of a fairy-tale.
Surreal called her favorite stiletto and prepared herself for the attack.
Then, suddenly…phuff…and the Yumu literally vanished into thin air.
And just a step behind the stop where the Yumu had been, stood Chaosti, looking amused and quite pleased with himself. She heard a female laugh somewhere.
"I thought you might need a little push." He said. His lips curled into a lopsided grin. "Seems I was right."
The lopsided grin. A little push. Chaosti, who was married to a very talented Black Widow. It all became clear to her.
"The Yumu don't exist, do they?" she asked. Damn, was her voice that shaky?
Chaosti shook his blond head. "Baby word Aiden came up with."
"You…You tricked me!"
"A tiny falsehood."
"You son of a whoring bitch!"
He didn't say anything, but his grin grew a sharp, feral edge. He took a step towards her.
"My dear cousin…" he said in his smooth voice that did wonders to female libidos. One long finger brushed lightly against her cheek, sending too-pleasant shivers down her spine. Mother Night, lucky Gabrielle… "I may be a son of a whoring bitch, as you so eloquently put it, but at least you walked a hundred feet on a tree without falling."
Did you like it? Honestly, did you? What did you think of my poor effort? Please let me know!