Welcome to Gaia! ::

(( This is just for Karma and I. n_n ))

It had been such a painfully long time since Dionaea had left the confines of her chamber. No reason to. The court had been very lax in activity lately, the flytrap Fey sinking deeper and deeper into the silence of books and daydreams. While she'd learn a goodly amount from the books, her ears still longed to eavesdrop on someone's twisted secret, catching a careless whisper on the breeze.

Oftentimes she'd find her thoughts lingering towards a certain small boy, one of the newer members of the court. Melidora had an enchanting voice not unlike Astra's, but his music was much more appropriate to the evil that was the Moon Court. Nothing of silly songbirds or the night sky.

Enough was enough.

Standing up, Dionaea finally took charge of her situation and walked toward the door. She would go looking for him instead. The teen remembered a gift she'd wanted to give the boy since they last met - a book with an earthen cover like that of the soil which the dead returned to. The dead Melidora often sang of. She snatched it from her bookshelf and slipped quietly out of the chamber, padding around until she found the stairs.

Everywhere on the lower levels was deathly quiet. Ears perked though, at the tinkling sound of something... Music, perhaps? Or was that wishful thinking? Without hesitating, Dionaea stole silently further up the stairs, ears straining to hear more. She'd heard there was a music room up here somewhere, but never seen or heard anything from it. Maybe it was never used at all?

Sighing, she stood to her full height, clutching the leafy book to her chest. Didn't seem like there was anyone up here at all. A few doors to the left, a few doors to the right. Nothing. All empty. Just listening for breathing was easy enough, movement even easier. She walked further and further down the hallway until she found that music room, seeing an absent instrument or two, a music stand, stray papers.

Turning her head, she caught sight of an open door, movement coming from within. There was a good enough crack to see through as Dionaea approached. A small figure was within, and she knew who it would be.

"Melidora?" she asked, voice deafening to her in the silence.

"Yes, unfortunately, it has." She stepped in with a cautious air, as she did most rooms. For whatever reason, she would not put it past Moon Court Fey to lay their own rooms full of traps. Or that was a childish fantasy brought on by weeks on end of antisocial behavior.

The book was still held firmly in place, her eyes gazing around the room. It looked similarly to what she imagined it would. It reflected the occupant just as her own chamber reflected her. Slowly, a smile came to play across her older features, the book loosening to a more casual position on her hip. Melidora probably knew it was intended for him anyway.

The teenager found a comfortable spot to stand, somewhat out of the way and none to close so as to be invasive. "I missed your voice very much." she admitted, smile slowly fading into a look of slight embarassment. Quickly, she recovered to continue. She was, after all, his biggest fan. "I have brought a gift for you. Something to write your thoughts in?"



Dionaea held it out slightly to him, and should he take it, the book would be easily released from her light grip. Should he not want it, well, she wouldn't blame herself. She couldn't find a flute.

Dionaea's eyes lit up, thinking immediately that her old friend Procyon would come bounding through the doorway to snatch it up for her precious collection. It certainly was shiny enough for it. The teenager took it gratefully, nodding at him to signify she appreciated and accepted the gift. The bracelet slipped around her wrist and clasped together shortly thereafter.

"It's been too long a while, I'm afraid. What has time brought you, Melidora?" 'Meli' to her, seemed too informal. He was a singer, and to her, should be treated with the utmost respect. She'd longed to hear his voice more than she'd admit.

She dare not sit on his bed, instead choosing to stand in the place she'd chosen. Time had broght her patience, if anything else. Patience and too much spare time to devote to frivilous things like dreaming. Dionaea idly wondered if Melidora had found his sister or his parents as of yet, and if his sister was anything like him.

She really needed to get out more.

She stode over to the edge of the bed and sat down, elbows resting on knees and chin in her palms. Dionaea always looked like that when she was a captive audience member. She'd heard the screeches of the owls outside, the race through the wind, the scrape of the unrelenting claws against the forest floor. But she'd never seen them. In fact, she'd never really been outside the castle walls.

How unfortunate. She'd have to make a journey outside sometime soon then.

Dionaea admitted to herself that she'd not done anything of note, besides self-reflection. She'd realized soon into her personal exile that life outside must be better than the dullness inside. "Would you care to sing one for me? That is, if you like." I never mind. she thought absently.

Long tendrils of reddish violet swept into her face, and she brushed them away with an irritated hand, plans of leaving the castle forming in her mind.

Dionaea's head tilted to one side in admiration and appreciation, the way a child would look on at an adult performing some seemingly impossible task. She'd had the ear for music, not the hand, and even though the melody was lost for a moment, she did not mind in the slightest. Sound was sound, after all.

Maybe she could somehow craft a lute for him, or a simple wind instrument. It would take time, yes, but it would be something he could use. Much more than the book, or so she thought. The book was really all she had in her sparce chambers since her Kithain became so busy.

Her mind floated back to the day they met, and the song he'd sung just for her. How cute he was, and yet so old in a young body. Seemed tortured, to her, to be so wise and captured in a body so juvenile.

Dionaea's head bobbed in time with the melody, a smile curling on her lips as the child before her started to sing. She knew from a very early age that she was born to listen, and finally, she had a reason. Gathering information from the enemy was one thing; listening for pleasure was entirely different.

When the lyrics ended, she nodded firmly, liking the end result. Though it was unfinished, the work was still a masterpiece in her eyes. "That was very beautiful, Melidora. You saw this all on the outside?" She sounded like a babe again, having not been exposed to the wonders of the outside world.

If it was as dark and gruesome as Melidora had described, there would be no reason to be afraid.