A Fistful of Temptation [Tenebris]

NightWings have always been known to be secretive. Their dark scales made them disappear in the night, making them nearly impossible to be seen. If that was the epitome of a NightWing, Sting excelled in it, even if it was for a different way. She had always been another face in the crowd, never standing out for some magnificence or failure. For her brief time as a tracker, she remained uninspired without purpose. Being a citizen gave her time to mull over what she wanted to do in her life. Despite her lack of ambition and low status, Sting had grown surprisingly popular among the Tribe. Maybe there was something charming about her despite being the antisocial sort, but she could be described as the "trendsetter" for those outside the castle. Whatever she did, others would follow, and she never found herself short of company.

Though she was rather shy, Sting hated being alone. Lucky for her, she had two lovely hatchlings she had taken under her wing. She loved Cyclone and Typhoon just as much as if she had laid their egg herself. Imagine her surprise when they came to their cavern home to announce news that would forever change their life. They were moving to Shadow's Refuge. The Archon himself requested her twins to become royal guards, and kindly, he offered her to live at the castle too. Sting was so proud that it felt as though her chest would burst, but there was something else nagging at the back of her head. This almost seemed too good to be true.

The suspicion only grew when a royal messenger announced his presence outside the family's cavern. The messenger gave the dragoness a respectful nod. "Sting Yoru, is it?"

Sting scanned the dragon with interest. "Yes. Is this about Cyclone and Typhoon?"

The messenger did not answer. "Our Lord requests your presence at Shadow's Refuge," he said, though by his intent gaze and firmness of the voice, it did not seem very much like a request. It took a few moments for the words to sink in. Why in Pyyria would the Archon want to speak to Sting? There might be cause for some discussion, seeing as she was the adoptive mother of Cyclone and Typhoon, but could that not wait for when she arrived alongside them?

Clearly not. Sting was tempted to ask why but knew it would be fruitless. So she turned to the cavern. "I will be back soon," she spoke briefly to the twins within before allowing the messenger to escort her to Shadow's Refuge. Her mind burned with questions. Was there an ulterior motive to Tenebris recruiting her children? Was that something to do with her?

The Messenger flew at a leisurely pace for Sting to follow as he escorted her towards the Citadel of Shadow's Refuge, flying in contemplative silence. The great citadel would materialise through the darkness as they approached, a grim foreboding monument to the Nightwing tribe, the great obsidian structure rose up at the apex of the island dominating the surrounding landscape, its twisted spires and towers raising to the glide towards the courtyard, landing at the bottom of the grand staircase.

There at the Apex of the stairs, stood under the large onyx archway designed to depict two dragons with their claws interlocked and to which severed as the entrance to the atrium and throne room was Syrus, the Steward, and seneschal of the Citadel. The small Steward gave a deep formal bow, extending his wings for added flare, "Mistress Sting, his Grace is awaiting you within in parlor of the quest wing, if you'd follow me", he spoke in a quiet nasal voice. Not standing on ceremony, he'd lead Sting through the archway, while the messenger at this point would depart. Syrus led her through the grand hall and throneroom which housed the official audiences of the court and all festivities. At this moment the large atrium was eerily quiet, only one of two Dragons talking amongst themselves in the shadows in whispered breaths. Leading Sting through the solemn dark halls to the double doors what lead to the parlor were cast in a dark tinted iron, the wood of which appear old and ancient like much of the Citadel as a whole.

The parlour itself, like the Grand hall, was the epitome Nightwing Architecture. While many throughout the world would compare such architecture with an Obsidian stone, which has been built through the use of liquefying and reshaping stone by which means could only be attributed to the subtle arcane arts, sorcery, and skill held by the highest cabals of the Nightwing Tribe throughout history. The Light within the galley was produced by wall sconces what resembled stone carvings of a dragon's talons grasping the fire burning within. The room resembled more of a museum, clearly, this being where the Archon would host dignitaries and the highest of his inner circle. Around the room there were macabre oddities ranging from Skeletons of fellow Dragons to taxidermied basilisks, cockatrices, thunder hawks, and other lesser species, the most intriguing of these curiosities would have plaques designating names and notable actions of the individuals.

Between the high slim pillars which were decorated in runic designs, under the arched ceiling of the centre there was a collection of polished onyx outcroppings which served as furnishings. Upon one of these was the Archon, laid somewhat informally with his talons crossed over one another, he wasn't wearing any formal attire like his usual appearances but merely wore a single silver loop earring which hung from his right ear. His posture and demeanour was relaxed and notably Tenebris was alone in this galley, surrounded by only the antiques of ages past and the taxidermied lesser races who seemed to watch on in their eerie stare from beyond the grave from around the outside walls of the parlor.

Tenebris slowly raised his head, his posture would suggest he was within some sort of deep contemplation or suffering in a form of fatigue and weariness. The Archon watched Sting and Syrus intently through his solemn stare as they entered, making no effort to rise to take up a more authoritative posture, instead he continued to lay almost in a passive lethargic manner.

Tenebris wondered what was going through Shira's head, she was not the first to be brought before him in a private audience, nor would she be the last, for the Archon found it was only in these personal conversations that one could express themselves freely, that was a fact even for Tenebris himself. His claws twitched this way and that, he felt no need for protect yet the fact remained there would always be opportunist young dragons and there was always the possibility of a wannabe idealistic naive martyr who would be driven despite the consequences to removing Tenebris from power. "Thank you, Syrus, you are dismissed", the Archon would state matter of factly, and as ordered the Steward would turn about and close the door behind him.

Tenebris now had his eerie sapphire gaze fixated upon Sting in intense silent scrutiny, he'd then give a subtle nod of mutual respect and acknowledgment, however still made no effort to rise. "Tis' a pleasure, Sting, as always. Now, pray tell do you know why I have summoned you?". The Archon couldn't help but give a wolfish smirk, his uncharacteristic white fangs stood out in contrast to the dark colours of the rest of his body showed.

The NightWings themselves were part of the obsidian sky as they soared for the Tribe capitial. They were invisible to eyes above or below as only NightWings had the experience to spot brethren in the dark. . . Though Sting's star-dappled wings were of reversed color. Sting had been to Shadow's Refuge few times, but none of them had been recent. In fact, come to think of it, the last time she had been called to a Tribal meeting was when Oculus took the throne after Gemini. That was long ago. In fact, it might have been the first time she saw Tenebris, though he was not Archon then, nor did they speak if her memory served her. How fitting it was that was the first time they met long ago, and now, Sting's first royal meeting for years later was with Tenebris.

Accompanied by the messenger, she landed at the archway to greet the steward that awaited her. She was surprised when Syrus gave her a formal bow, to which she did her best to replicate. "Thank you," she murmured to the messenger as he departed. While many might dismiss him with nothing more than a glance or ignorance, Sting was the type of dragon to appreciate all roles played in the great machine that was Tribe life. From her experience as Tracker, she knew that a simple kind acknowledgement could be the difference between a good and bad day.

As Syrus escorted her through the citadel, Sting marvelled the architecture. How long did it take this to be built, she wondered. How many sorcerers? How old was the building itself? It was poetic, in a way. Obsidian, also known as volcanic glass, was brittle, but through magic, it was strengthened to serve a greater purpose: protection, symbolism. Like all Tribes, there was a time where the NightWings were new and weak, but now, they were just as sharp as the stone that built this citadel. Memorials decked the walls in the form of skeletal remains. When Sting saw them, she was so unnerved that she stopped in her tracks to stare for a moment. As she passed them alongside Syrus, her eyes flicked over the plaques that told her what these specimens were known for.

Even they were not the most interesting thing on display. For upon an outcropping of furnished onyx was the Archon himself. Tenebris, usually dressed and positioned so regally, was in a state which confused Sting. Should she bow? Probably, if only just to express her gratitude. The NightWing did her best to replicate Syrus' bow, extending her white black-spattered wings yet keeping her head held to maintain eye contact with the Tribe leader. She righted herself as Syrus was dismissed. Just as she did with the messenger earlier, she thanked him before focusing her attention on Tenebris before her.

The smirk he gave unsettled Sting. Once again, she was reminded that his invitation to Cyclone and Typhoon might have an ulterior motive rather than from the kindness of his heart. "I do not," she responded, choosing her words with care. "Well, not exactly. I can only assume it concerns Cyclone and Typhoon. They are absolutely thrilled by the way," Sting added, swishing her tail behind her. "We are grateful for your generous offer." At first, she considered the Archon called her to discuss housing arrangements, but that smirk. . . It did not convey the joy one would feel about being a host.

Tenebris arose as Sting spoke, his sardonic smirk ever persistent. His movements were slow and replayed, yet deliberate as he pulled himself free from the polished onyx slab, his serpentine tail seemed to sway back and forth in an idle manner, and his movements remained lithe and serpentine as he seemed to weave back and forth in eccentric zigzags on approach as if his legs had differing minds of their own, in a constant battle to dominate his trajectory due to the pronounced limp on his right hindleg before he then stood before Sting. He'd briefly flare open his wings as a means to stretch them, the white speckled star-like patterns upon his wings seeming a stark contrast to Sting's own. "To some degree tis' regarding your twins, yes". He'd lower his rear into a sitting-like manner, while his glare fixated without falter upon Sting throughout. Raises his right foreclaw, he'd fiddle with the ring on his ear, almost as though attempting to amuse and entertain himself from lethargy.

"You see, I would like to extend a further offer to yourself. I would offer you ascendancy as my mate and Queen-Consort". He'd pause for a moment, inclining his head to the right as he continued to play with the earring. "I do not consider you a fool, thus I assume you'll know that I do not give this offer simply out of generosity and grace. I am if nothing else, an opportunist, and I foresee an opportunity with yourself, Cyclone and Typhoon harbouring here within the Citadel. In this opportunity, I intend to capitalise on with this offer. No doubt I do not have to explain the benefits you would gain from such, yet if you have questions, feel free to speak freely in confidence", Tenebris stated and spoke in his usual rich, gravelly voice with an authoritative sincere delivery. The efforts of ensuring they were alone, and that the Archon wasn't in the formal attire, he hoped would allow Sting to speak her mind without fear of repercussion as a form of granting her ease.

As Tenebris sat before her, Sting joined him in a sitting position, coiling her long tail over her talons as a cat would cover its paws. Everything about this meeting seemed unusual, but then again, Sting had never been in a royal situation such as this one. Her expression was one void of all emotion save for interest. However, as the Archon spoke, the look upon her face was replaced by one of shock. For a moment, her serious demeanor shattered. "I. . . never thought- never imagined. . ." The idea of being proposed to by Tenebris had been so farfetched that it did not even cross Sting's mind in her contemplation.

Her neck slightly reared her head back. Surprise was written in every scale of her body and every glimmer of her sunset-shaded eyes. "Well, I'm glad you do not see me as a fool," she spoke, demeanor restored as a hint of sarcasm dripped from her voice. Though incredulity screamed through her body language, Sting spoke with an air of calm that was almost icy. Suspicion still piqued, she continued, "I would like some questions answered, yes." Where to start?

Sting's standing in the NightWings seemed as good a place as any. "I suppose I can't help but wonder why you would want me, of all dragons, to be your consort. I never held a high ranking in our Tribe. I was a Tracker once, and I did guide trainees in the way of the hunt, 'tis true, but. . ." Hesitation. How could she express her low status without coming across as self-deprecating? "I am a citizen. I am not accepting any offer until I know what you plan to gain from me and my twins," the dragoness said firmly. The offer was certainly tempting, but there must be something Tenebris wanted in return. While the Archon had two heirs, the oldest was a halfblood. Mephala was a fullblooded NightWing, but as an illegitimate hatchling with no known mother, her becoming Tenebris' successor was unlikely. While Sting bad been slightly irritated with the NightWing leader, he had been right: Sting was no fool. Of course he wanted fullblooded heirs, but that did not answer why he chose Sting to be their mother.

Tenebris couldn't help but smirk at catching Sting off guard, an almost sadistic grin spread across his features, made even more so by the disfiguring scarification upon the right side of his maw causing the smirk to contort and twist into more of a wolfish sneer. His almost uncharacteristic white fangs standing out in stark contrast to the rest of his dark foreboding appearance. Yet such returns to his usual solemn expression as Sting collects herself, and even as she makes her sarcastic comment he'd manner a guttural scoff.

The Archon awaited the questions patiently, his only movement really being his serpentine tail trailing back and forth. Once Sting was done he'd crane his neck forward, he'd watch her intently, not deigning to raise like one may think the Archon to do to reiterate his position and authority. The intense stare of Tenebris would be without falter, almost without blinking before the tip of his tongue, a gray twitching thing, would run along the edge of his fangs and disappear with a soft crack. "You are correct, you are of low birth and but a mere citizen", stated Tenebris in a matter-of-factly sense before he'd incline his head.

"That is exactly why you are perfect. I would be at a remiss if I didn't dare state the truth, and the truth is beyond the propaganda and the work of my Inquisitors, there are those who doubt my leadership, those who claim I am detached and distant. They are correct of course, yet I can appease many of them should my mate not be of the noble Ebonwing blood, but one of them. They'd think you'd voice their grievances directly to me". The Archon would then give a light chuckle as though amused at the very reality that the Citizens of the Nightwings could sway his judgements and policies. "There is of course also the insidious rumours of my daughters, having a public mate would silence such rumours. Plus, your Twins, they are remarkable, and I'd want to watch them closely".The jovial manner of Tenebris would then falter as his eerie sapphire glare would narrow, and his neck would seem to crane forward that little bit more. "Having them here as willing for my observations would be far more satisfactory than having them detained, wouldn't you agree?"

The movements of Tenebris' face did its job of making Sting uncomfortable, and she very nearly drew her lip back in disgust. It appeared that he was trying to unsettle her. She did not want to be intimidated, though she was, so she maintained his gaze with a set of determined ice-like eyes. As he spoke, she turned the offer over in her head. He was correct; there was no reason for him to explain what Sting had to gain. Her new lifestyle would be nothing short of luxurious, but she was uncertain if luxury truly suited her. She tried to imagine herself stretched out elegantly in a room of victories such as this one, surrounded by servants and any food she may wish for. Come to think of it, what is it that Tenebris even did? The thought made Sting hum. Surely he would not give her any responsibilities of an archon- not now, at least. However, emergencies did exist, and preparation was key. She made a mental note to question him about that.

"You're not wrong," Sting pointed out at Tenebris' first point. "I would voice their concerns directly to you- not that it would change anything, but it would give them hope at least." As a citizen herself, she had faced the unhappiness that many of the population felt concerning some NightWing policies. She had a feeling that Tenebris was all too aware of the complaints of commoners. Though she doubted she could change his mind or even have a hand in the government at this point, hope was a powerful thing. In fact, it was the one thing more powerful than fear. "You are suggesting that I take on the role of your daughters' mother?" she asked with a curious flick of her ear. "I have no problem with that, but I don't know if it will kill all of the rumors. . ." Unless, of course, Sting publicly admitted that she was indeed their biological mother. Would the hatchlings be okay with that? Zylah, after all, was around the age of her own twins. Mephala was so young that she would have no questions and be grateful that she had a mother, but if Zylah had any qualms, there was the danger of her stating them loudly.

As for the point about Cyclone and Typhoon. . . Sting growled, and she could not help her tail lashing angrily behind her. "If any harm comes to them, the deal's off," she spat, her spined ruff rising behind her horns. She had been calm for the majority of the meeting so far, but the idea of her twins being harmed or kept against their will sent her into a protective rage. "That's my one and only condition. Cyclone and Typhoon will be kept safe. Do whatever else you want, but they're going to be untouchable. Understood?" Clearly, she was in no position to be making demands, but that was not going to stop her from ensuring her hatchlings' safety.

Tenebris couldn't help but be both amused and somewhat impressed as Sting held her gaze. The Archon would have a bemused grunt release from his maw as he continued to watch Sting's expression intently as she seemed to register and mull over his words. Tenebris couldn't help but wonder what may have been going through the Dragoness's head. Many in this situation  Tenebris thought many in this situation would either lose all composure and rather be reviled at the very idea of the proposal or eagerly accept without much foresight as to what would be required. Contemplating Sting's internal musings the Archon wondered how logically or practical she would be in interpreting her words.

The Archon couldn't help but incline his head his own musings were finally answered as Sting spoke aloud, a soft smile would then spread across the Archon's maw in an uncharacteristic display of pleasant surprise. Sting seemed to grasp the underlying truths of the relationship proposed, and her role within it, and future such machinations. He'd give a modest nod in acknowledgment to the statements regarding her position. There was truth in Sting's words, whether Tenebris regarded her advisement, the idea of her providing such in the minds of the commoners, be it a facade or not would be a powerful tool, one which could even gain sympathies for the potential  Queen-Consort what would reduce the threat of any open revolt against the Regime of the Archon by proxy.

As Sting spoke of his Daughters the Archon gave a soft chuckle and raised his right foreclaw, holding his ink-stained talons aloft as though to call a pose. "You're right, but make no mistake I don't intend to declare you their mother. Merely having you as a public mate will add more rumours that you are their mother, but that would be enough to curb such, as the conversation and discussion itself would be a feigning act. I dare say, I'd be at a remiss should I declare you their mother openly, as that could disrupt their own destiny", Tenebris spoke evenly, and didn't elaborate further, there was no need to tell Sting at this moment of their heritage and the claims they could rightfully pursue in the future.

As Tenebris went back to listening, he'd release a guttural chuckle as Sting's calm visage faltered on the mention of the twins, her primal animalistic fury would of perhaps even given a lesser Dragon pause. Yet Tenebris could still conduct visual research without having to harm the Twins. "Rest assured, I will not harm a single scale upon their heads. They'll be protected and within my care, I would never do anything to harm them or cause the displeasure of my Queen", that last comment caused another wide smirk to spread across his features and for his tail to thumb upon the cold stone in an almost declaration. "So we are at an agreement then for this bargain?"

Pride warmed the inside of Sting as she realized that she had surprised the archon. It was difficult to shock an experienced dragon who had spoken into the ears of gods, but Sting had managed it. A smug, almost challenging smile made her way to her face when she saw it, but it had quickly disappeared in way of curiosity and defense of her hatchlings. It made sense that addressing rumors by trying to distract the population with a separate truth would arouse suspicion. As for the hatchlings' true parentage. . . that wasn't her business. Such royal daughters were guaranteed remarkable destinies from the start, and Sting knew it was not her place of common birth to disrupt it.

At Tenebris' remark as to not do anything to cause the displeasure of his queen, Sting could not help but don a wolfish smirk to rival the archon's. "I will hold you to that," she said, but it was unclear if she was being lighthearted. Sting was unsure if she knew that herself. She took a deep breath through her maw. Though she knew this course of action would be for the best, not only for her but maybe, just maybe for the NightWings. . . it was still a big decision. Life-altering, actually. Even if Sting later changed her mind and left (though she doubted she would ever be allowed to), she would forever be remembered as Tenebris' mate. Most pressingly, however, Cyclone and Typhoon were here, and Sting had promised to be with them no matter where they went. So, head stiff with anxiety, Sting nodded. "Consider the deal struck," she confirmed. Though she tried to sound brave, there was a lame falter in her voice. The now-queen cleared her throat.

"I just want to be sure of one thing," she began slowly, choosing her words with care. "As previously discussed, I'm not a fool, but correct me if I'm wrong. I wouldn't be assuming any royal duties, would I? Beyond the standard public appearances, that is." Her white claws drummed the stone beneath her as she continued, ". . .but emergencies happen. In that case, is there any protocol I should follow? Will one of your advisors or daughters take control, or. . ?" Though there was no doubt what she was insinuating, Sting did not want to say it aloud. The idea of Tenebris disappearing or dying was sad, tyrant or not. Besides, as the Queen-Consort, surely it would be good to know the matter of inheritance?

At hearing the words that the deal was struck, the Archon would release an almost guttural harsh chuckle. He'd slowly raise to his feet, giving a soft "Splendid" in reply. His expression would radiate in his usual innate smugness, as a lop-sided sardonic grin would spread across his visage. Tenebris seemed as though triumphant in a martial victory as he'd extend and expand his wings in a prideful display showing the intricate star-like white spirals upon his wing membrane. Only as Tenebris was about to call in his steward to go through the finer details regarding allocating Sting her palace servants and moving to the Private Royal apartments wing was Tenebris caught off guard by her additional questions.

Tenebris folded his wings as his grin faltered to a stoic and apathetic one as he cocked his head to his right side, releasing a faint scoff of distain. The very idea of discussing his own mortality was a conversation Tenebris often found of the utmost uncomfort. The line of questioning itself also made Tenebris briefly muse Sting in a new light. Perhaps it was not so much a mutual arrangement as Tenebris first desired, his natural paranoia seemed to open up now the possibilities of such how well Sting could be in her intrigues and machinations, seemingly it was within every possibility she could produce an heir of Tenebris, only to then due away with the Archon then rule as regent while manipulating a potential heir as little more than a puppet. "As it stands, Zylah is my heir. She will take my throne, yet at her current age there will be a regency council set up made up of my most trusted subordinates, you would, of course, have a seat in such a regency council, but as it stands my agents would have the ability to veto any decree you'd wish to make in my Daughters name", spoke Tenebris in a matter-of-factly manner before regaining his composure, his usual sardonic smirk returning before calling forth "Steward! You may enter, and see these tedious intricacies of our deal". With that, the Archon would give a subtle nod in the form of an acknowledgment towards Sting before taking his leave, his gait almost a bizarre rhythmic serpentine manner as he made his leave.