Maena 2

293AC

The Mug of milk hit the ground with a slosh, spilling its contents over the wooden floor.

The Prince's beautiful clothing, his coat, and his pants were aglow, eerie white lightning sparkling along the lengths of his limbs in an unnatural, though undeniably beautiful display, flowing like rivers across the surface of his body. He was sitting, knees crossed, with his back facing her when she opened the door, and she could see clearly the greatest stream of sparks followed the line of his spine up to his neck before splitting out into a glowing river which wrapped about his head like a crown, his dark hair rising on end around the band of sparkling lightning.

She stood transfixed as the carried drink fell to the floor, her mind simply not turning.

Then the sight, the sound, and the smell hit her as the prince surely noticed her presence. Lightning erupted from his body in great arcs, scorching the floor and giving off a smell of burnt wood, the sparks, once beautiful, now glowed angry, coating his body utterly until it seemed he was almost covered in light as he turned to face her, and she fell to her knees, heedless of the milk which was now soaking into her clothing.

What had before been a single ring of lights, beautifully crossing his brow, had grown like all the rest to be angry and terrifying, the lines of the Prince's face were framed by blazing lightning, and the lightning which formed his crown seemed to reach for the ceiling as if it was not high enough for his liking, and his eyes, oh, his eyes stares her down with a wroth and fury written in the thunderbolts which leapt to their sides in endless blue streams as he stood to his feet, even as some in tint borne of old stories told her just what it is that the Prince of Dragonstone surely must be in truth.

"Spare me, Gods." She said, casting herself before his mercy. Hoping that the lightning bolts filling the room might not find her if she were to seek forgiveness.

The god in the shape of a boy stared at her for a long moment, before stopping himself for a moment, the blazing and angry lightning dimming gradually as the prince took long and concentrated breaths, his chest rising and falling.

Eventually, the lightning, the sparks, all of it, began to fade away, sinking into his flesh until only the boy remained, wearing a torn and concerned look on his face.

"Get in here." He said, in a voice that booked no debate. "And shut the door behind you." The god-boy glanced at the room around him, muttering something about it being a mess before turning to her, still prostrate on the floor, finding her hips unresponsive in the face of the sheer panic and adrenaline filling her body.

The prince sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair before reaching down to help her up, though she almost jumped to her feet unaided when a small spark of electricity leaped to her shoulder, leaving it stinging, and prompting another sigh from the god-boy.

"Really, I'm not going to hurt you, come on."

Maena let the prince maneuver her into the small wooden chair in the room, not able to remove her eyes from the terrifying boy, even as he went to shut the door, grimacing slightly upon seeing the milk spilled in the hallway.

She still found her tongue unmoving when he took a seat across from her, sitting gingerly on the straw and wool bed, uniting for a prince, much less a god.

He just… sat there, staring into her eyes for a long while, and she felt a new pang of terror run through her at the thought that he might be seeing her soul through her own eyes.

It was a long time before he finally broke the silence, or at least she felt it was.

"Sorry to have scared you, it appears I owe you a new dress."

She blinked.

Then she blinked again.

It was just so absurd, a god wandering the earth, like in the old tales, but fretting about her dress and looking perhaps embraced by the stains that now decorated its front, no worse than any other she received taking care of her children on any given day.

She just couldn't help but stare at the boy.

Eventually, he sighed again.

"Look, I don't know what is you want for, or need or whatever, gah… What I'm saying is, don't tell anyone about this for now. Do that and I'll make sure you're looked after well. I can't deal with tonight."

The boy stood up from his bed, reaching out and offering her a hand.

She wasn't able to refuse, offering her own and feeling his hand clasp around her forearm and lifting her from her chair. Lightning jumped between their flesh, but somehow it didn't bother her so much this time, knowing that he wasn't going to striker her down with wrath and furious lightning.

She gave no resistance as he guided her to the door, patting her on the back and gently propping her up like she was some old woman.

"Why don't you take a break for tonight, and come back tomorrow, we can talk more then, okay?"

As he helped her out of the door over the spilled mess on the floor, she smiled weakly.

Yes… she could do that.

Couldn't she?