HOME | DD

Description
(A/n: I have no idea whatsoever where in the world this came from. Just saw some of Sakimichan's artwork and apparently went whacko for Maleficent. God... At least I'm updating.)

You stumbled as the Moors Border Guard pushed you forward and barked at you roughly to keep moving. You rubbed your arm where he had shoved you and looked at him over your shoulder as you kept moving forward through the dense forest. Small spritely creatures watched you from behind rocks and trees and from beneath the surface of ponds. You had hardly any time to think about them, however.

How had you gotten into this situation in the first place?

Right, you and your family had gone on an innocent little hike through the woods, spending a week camping along with it. You had been observing a beautiful oak tree, and before you had known it, your family had disappeared into the forest and left you behind accidentally. At least, you hoped it had been an accident. After that, you had simply wandered, calling out for them until night had fallen.

You had stumbled upon the wall of thorns that the great evil faerie of the Moors had built. However, when you reached out to touch it in a place that was not covered in thorns, the wall split open to reveal a path inside. If this happens whenever someone touches the wall, then why haven’t the warriors gotten in? You had wondered.

You were inside the Moors marveling at the beauty of the place for all of five minutes when the border guard showed up. You had at first gasped at his horrible face, before you supposed he was handsome for a living tree, but still something to be feared. You couldn’t understand what he was saying to you when he roared and jabbed his spear at you. Judging by his facial expressions and how readable they were, he was quite annoyed by your presence. You had backed up in the direction that you had come from and accidently cut your arm and poked you shoulder blade on a thorn. You twisted around and saw that the path through the thorn wall was closed. The guard barked at you again and gestured with his spear. You were frightened now. There was no way out.

It roared at you again and jabbed its spear at you again. You raised your hands and went where he was gesturing. He poked your back several times to make you keep moving until you were in the position you were in now. He led, well pushed, you through the forest until you came to the entrance of a large and rather scary looking black castle. He then proceeded to bang on the doors, causing you to flinch and force pressure to your ears to lessen the noise.

The door opened to reveal a large hallway with tall windows and chessboard black and white marble flooring. A giant glass chandelier hung above the door, accompanied by another at the far end of the room. Green flames flickered on the candles, casting the room in a haze of the same color. Your eyes drifted down the back wall window which extended from the ceiling to the floor. At the base, the window disappeared behind a large stone throne. Your eyes widened when you saw who sat on the throne.

His skin was pale, tinted slightly green. He was dressed entirely in black leather, his coat accentuated with purple. A pair of black horns grew out of his head and his iridescent eyes glimmered from green-blue to gold. His mouth twisted open in something that resembled a slight sneer, revealing a pearly white fang.

You were unaware until this moment that you were still moving forward, so transfixed were you on the man’s strange appearance until the guard’s roar reached your ears and it forced you to stop moving. You broke your stare away from the dark creature before you to turn your (e/c) gaze to the walking, talking tree. It kneeled and bowed to the man on the throne before you both.

“Rise Balthazar, what have you brought before me, oh trusted guardian of the Moors?” a smooth deep voice asked. You raised your eyes back to the man on the throne and his own golden cat’s eyes flicked in your direction before returning to the border guard, who had indeed stood. The guard barked a long stream of words that seemed to be an explanation, while the black-clad man just leaned on his hand and looked bored. At the very end he looked interested.

“Oh, so she got in through the wall, did she? Just split apart for her to enter, did it? I’m curious about this human, Balthazar. You may leave, I will return her myself if need be,” the man said, rubbing his chin in an intrigued manner and eyeing you. Balthazar crossed an arm over his chest and bowed before exiting the throne room. You watched the strange creature leave the room and the doors bang shut behind him before you returned your gaze to the man, getting a better look at his features.

His eyes were fluid, like liquid gold; his hair was black and short but flipped over in the front so that several tendrils hung down between his horns and onto his forehead. His horns shone in the mixture of candle and moon light, glinting when said light hit them just right. He seemed to be examining you as well, though not as interestedly.

“You are a very rare bird in these parts,” he stated, forming his hands into a steeple in front of his chin. You didn’t really know how to respond to that.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You. We don’t get many human folk in the Moors nowadays. If we got very few before the thorns, we get even fewer now.”

“Oh.”

Briefly, you wondered what was going to happen to you, but then he spoke again.

“How did you get here?”

You thought for a moment. There was no trace of anger in his tone, just a calm sense of curiosity. His eyes appeared to display that along with a nearly invisible head tilt. You considered your answer before speaking and you lowered your head but kept your eyes on him to gauge his reaction.

“I don’t know. The wall simply opened up before me when I touched it. I don’t know why.”

He sat forward at that moment and his eyes narrowed.

“Perhaps it liked you.”

It was said in a near whisper, giving the sentence a frightening and dark tone, but his face said otherwise. A smile pulled his lips apart to reveal the shiny white fangs in a joking manner and he snickered. He stood from the throne and his cloak swirled around his legs and feet. He was really tall. What part of his body that wasn’t covered in leather was armored and spiked studs adorned several places. The edges of his cloak had a few here and there, several large spikes stuck out of his shoulder armor and he wore spiked bracelets around his wrists. He descended from his throne’s position to stand next to you, a black walking stick with a green egg-shaped gem at the top appeared in a swirl of green smoke and the man gripped it as he walked, almost giving away that he had at one time needed it and still used as a bit of a “security blanket” shall we say.

You stepped back a little, flickering your eyes away from his as the marble floor became a thousand times more interesting. His horns didn’t exactly help out in lessening the height and intimidation departments and you felt small compared to him at your (your height) height. He raised his hand and suddenly, you felt your feet leave the ground as a bright green wispy light surrounded you. Your arms and legs refused to budge, but you could still turn your head to look at your now captor who wore a rather large grin on his face. You opened your mouth to plead with him, but he raised his hand and went straight-faced.

“Don’t beg. I don’t like watching women beg. Except the Queen. Only her,” he said, chuckling quietly and evilly to himself as a small grin. You gave him a look as you debated whether or not he was crazy. Suddenly, a small black bird dived through a triangular window above the door and flapped over to the man. It squawked at him and his immaculately and interestingly groomed eyebrows knitted together.

“Well, that is rather irksome. We shall go Diabell and ward off the intruders,” he said, stroking the coal black feathers of the raven. It regarded you with one of its milky amber and brown eyes, seeming to look you up and down, comparing you to a high standard. It ruffled its feathers and your captor looked at it in a reprimanding fashion.

“Diabell…” he said warningly to get its attention, “be kind to her. She is a guest.” The raven gave him a disbelieving look before shaking its head and flapping away from the man.

“If you will excuse me, my colleague and I seem to have some other intruders to take care of,” he said, bowing deeply and sweeping his cloak around in front of him in a grand gesture. Then he snapped his fingers, and the sound resonated in your ears as the world blacked out.

Description
(A/n: I have no idea whatsoever where in the world this came from. Just saw some of Sakimichan's artwork and apparently went whacko for Maleficent. God... At least I'm updating.)

You stumbled as the Moors Border Guard pushed you forward and barked at you roughly to keep moving. You rubbed your arm where he had shoved you and looked at him over your shoulder as you kept moving forward through the dense forest. Small spritely creatures watched you from behind rocks and trees and from beneath the surface of ponds. You had hardly any time to think about them, however.

How had you gotten into this situation in the first place?

Right, you and your family had gone on an innocent little hike through the woods, spending a week camping along with it. You had been observing a beautiful oak tree, and before you had known it, your family had disappeared into the forest and left you behind accidentally. At least, you hoped it had been an accident. After that, you had simply wandered, calling out for them until night had fallen.

You had stumbled upon the wall of thorns that the great evil faerie of the Moors had built. However, when you reached out to touch it in a place that was not covered in thorns, the wall split open to reveal a path inside. If this happens whenever someone touches the wall, then why haven’t the warriors gotten in? You had wondered.

You were inside the Moors marveling at the beauty of the place for all of five minutes when the border guard showed up. You had at first gasped at his horrible face, before you supposed he was handsome for a living tree, but still something to be feared. You couldn’t understand what he was saying to you when he roared and jabbed his spear at you. Judging by his facial expressions and how readable they were, he was quite annoyed by your presence. You had backed up in the direction that you had come from and accidently cut your arm and poked you shoulder blade on a thorn. You twisted around and saw that the path through the thorn wall was closed. The guard barked at you again and gestured with his spear. You were frightened now. There was no way out.

It roared at you again and jabbed its spear at you again. You raised your hands and went where he was gesturing. He poked your back several times to make you keep moving until you were in the position you were in now. He led, well pushed, you through the forest until you came to the entrance of a large and rather scary looking black castle. He then proceeded to bang on the doors, causing you to flinch and force pressure to your ears to lessen the noise.

The door opened to reveal a large hallway with tall windows and chessboard black and white marble flooring. A giant glass chandelier hung above the door, accompanied by another at the far end of the room. Green flames flickered on the candles, casting the room in a haze of the same color. Your eyes drifted down the back wall window which extended from the ceiling to the floor. At the base, the window disappeared behind a large stone throne. Your eyes widened when you saw who sat on the throne.

His skin was pale, tinted slightly green. He was dressed entirely in black leather, his coat accentuated with purple. A pair of black horns grew out of his head and his iridescent eyes glimmered from green-blue to gold. His mouth twisted open in something that resembled a slight sneer, revealing a pearly white fang.

You were unaware until this moment that you were still moving forward, so transfixed were you on the man’s strange appearance until the guard’s roar reached your ears and it forced you to stop moving. You broke your stare away from the dark creature before you to turn your (e/c) gaze to the walking, talking tree. It kneeled and bowed to the man on the throne before you both.

“Rise Balthazar, what have you brought before me, oh trusted guardian of the Moors?” a smooth deep voice asked. You raised your eyes back to the man on the throne and his own golden cat’s eyes flicked in your direction before returning to the border guard, who had indeed stood. The guard barked a long stream of words that seemed to be an explanation, while the black-clad man just leaned on his hand and looked bored. At the very end he looked interested.

“Oh, so she got in through the wall, did she? Just split apart for her to enter, did it? I’m curious about this human, Balthazar. You may leave, I will return her myself if need be,” the man said, rubbing his chin in an intrigued manner and eyeing you. Balthazar crossed an arm over his chest and bowed before exiting the throne room. You watched the strange creature leave the room and the doors bang shut behind him before you returned your gaze to the man, getting a better look at his features.

His eyes were fluid, like liquid gold; his hair was black and short but flipped over in the front so that several tendrils hung down between his horns and onto his forehead. His horns shone in the mixture of candle and moon light, glinting when said light hit them just right. He seemed to be examining you as well, though not as interestedly.

“You are a very rare bird in these parts,” he stated, forming his hands into a steeple in front of his chin. You didn’t really know how to respond to that.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You. We don’t get many human folk in the Moors nowadays. If we got very few before the thorns, we get even fewer now.”

“Oh.”

Briefly, you wondered what was going to happen to you, but then he spoke again.

“How did you get here?”

You thought for a moment. There was no trace of anger in his tone, just a calm sense of curiosity. His eyes appeared to display that along with a nearly invisible head tilt. You considered your answer before speaking and you lowered your head but kept your eyes on him to gauge his reaction.

“I don’t know. The wall simply opened up before me when I touched it. I don’t know why.”

He sat forward at that moment and his eyes narrowed.

“Perhaps it liked you.”

It was said in a near whisper, giving the sentence a frightening and dark tone, but his face said otherwise. A smile pulled his lips apart to reveal the shiny white fangs in a joking manner and he snickered. He stood from the throne and his cloak swirled around his legs and feet. He was really tall. What part of his body that wasn’t covered in leather was armored and spiked studs adorned several places. The edges of his cloak had a few here and there, several large spikes stuck out of his shoulder armor and he wore spiked bracelets around his wrists. He descended from his throne’s position to stand next to you, a black walking stick with a green egg-shaped gem at the top appeared in a swirl of green smoke and the man gripped it as he walked, almost giving away that he had at one time needed it and still used as a bit of a “security blanket” shall we say.

You stepped back a little, flickering your eyes away from his as the marble floor became a thousand times more interesting. His horns didn’t exactly help out in lessening the height and intimidation departments and you felt small compared to him at your (your height) height. He raised his hand and suddenly, you felt your feet leave the ground as a bright green wispy light surrounded you. Your arms and legs refused to budge, but you could still turn your head to look at your now captor who wore a rather large grin on his face. You opened your mouth to plead with him, but he raised his hand and went straight-faced.

“Don’t beg. I don’t like watching women beg. Except the Queen. Only her,” he said, chuckling quietly and evilly to himself as a small grin. You gave him a look as you debated whether or not he was crazy. Suddenly, a small black bird dived through a triangular window above the door and flapped over to the man. It squawked at him and his immaculately and interestingly groomed eyebrows knitted together.

“Well, that is rather irksome. We shall go Diabell and ward off the intruders,” he said, stroking the coal black feathers of the raven. It regarded you with one of its milky amber and brown eyes, seeming to look you up and down, comparing you to a high standard. It ruffled its feathers and your captor looked at it in a reprimanding fashion.

“Diabell…” he said warningly to get its attention, “be kind to her. She is a guest.” The raven gave him a disbelieving look before shaking its head and flapping away from the man.

“If you will excuse me, my colleague and I seem to have some other intruders to take care of,” he said, bowing deeply and sweeping his cloak around in front of him in a grand gesture. Then he snapped his fingers, and the sound resonated in your ears as the world blacked out.