Griffins.
Daniel raced ahead, disregarding the danger of the Stable, the looming watchful eyes from the darkness of empty hallways, and followed the happy mewing sound that he had not heard since his fall from power.
The scent hit his nose not long after. It smelled like fresh hay, raw meat, with the biting undertone of ammonia.
He rounded a corner and beheld the room.
Griffins were kept in the Stable, but it was more so an agreement that they stay in place than anything else. This cache of Griffins was no different. There was a half door that kept them 'in', but they were primarily staying because they choose to. The half door opened into a circular room, large like a circus tent, with perches and towers scattered throughout. There was a skylight, a second level with pads for bedding, and another door that led to the outside for leaving the Stable.
And it was occupied by the Griffins.
They were magnificent. Huge, with bodies larger than lions, wings like falcons along their torso, and heads and feet like birds. Their tails were decidedly catlike, however, and lively wiping around as they perched, played, and pranced.
They turned toward him as he approached the door. Several opened their wings, to make their already huge bodies larger against an unknown predator, their fur puffing upward, and they opened their beaks and hissed.
Daniel entered anyway.
And sat down with his back against a wall, and pointedly did not look at them.
He looked at their living conditions. The hay scattered around the floor was fresh, but it was covering older hay and waste. No one came in here. These were not socialized Griffins. They acted more feral than he'd ever seen a Griffin in the Stable. So the best thing to do was not to be afraid of them.
The Griffins stopped hissing, and several fluttered away, huge wings unfurling and flapping upward to the second story. Others meandered behind the towers. The rest stayed where they were, feathers and fur both standing upright.
Scaredy cats. They could crush him with a paw.
He felt sad about their condition. The ones that flew were unstable. They spent too long inside, and their wings started to atrophy. They needed to be set loose to roam the blue skies, not kept in the Stable for untold weeks or months.
The main Griffins that remained approached him.
Daniel sat, keeping himself small and quiet. Not a threat. The most important aspect when making friends with a Griffin was that it was on their terms.
The huge beastie approached, the weighty footsteps slight and hesitant, and drew near, huge somber cat eyes inquiring, meeting Daniel's eyes. This one was at least partly socialized. The others must be nearly feral against so much neglect. But he could start slowly.
Daniel blinked at it, slowly.
He could feel the warmth of the large creature as it drew nearer, and it slowly blinked back at him.
Daniel waited for a quiet moment, before offering out a hand.
The large creature was massive, especially with Daniel sitting and it standing. But at that moment Daniel felt certain it was more scared than anything else. After several seconds, the creature pressed the soft feathers of its face against Daniel's hand, and a slow and heavy purr emerged.
With the body of a lion merging with the wings of an eagle, soft feathers, and warm fur on their torsos. Daniel wished he could causally run his hands along their body like he had when he was younger but restrained himself. Not yet. These were not his Griffins. They did not trust him. They may never trust him the same way. These Griffins belonged to a different court.
They might not even be trained griffins at all. They were not the flock he had once ridden when he had been important. He probably won’t be allowed to see any of the creatures that might remember him fondly.
He slowly curled the fingers of his outstretched hand against the face of the Griffin, lightly scratching it under its chin.
The purr paused slightly, then deepened as the Griffin slowly closed its eyes.
These griffins were strangers to him. The Stable kept rivals away from each other mounts for the most part, and what need had Lordling Elswith for other griffins? Cinnamon Girl had been enough trouble as things were.
But he missed just being around the large creatures. They were wild, capricious creatures, strong-willed, flighty, temperamental, impossible to ever trust around chocolate, and completely insufferable and yet so...sincere, real, and earnest. And in the ever-changing nebulous world of Seelie politics, a creature who is true is a rare find.
Griffins, the right hand of any campaign waging Lordling.
A Squeak interrupted this tender moment.
The Griffin snapped its head upright, birdlike, saw who was at the door, and stepped in front of Daniel, wings unfolding to shield Daniel.
Little Beastie was trying to protect Daniel.
"Servant Branch....are you alright?" the Tolsen said, not entering.
Daniel patted the hindquarter of the Griffin, to reassure it. "I'm alright," he said, to both the Griffin and the Tolsen. He arose slowly to his feet and rubbed the Griffin. "I'm alright." The Griffin looked at Daniel, over its shoulders and wings. Then, catlike, furled its wings, and darted up a tower, growling and chirping.
Griffins were scaredy cats, all of them.
"Be careful, there Lordling. These Griffins are rather...untamed."
Daniel walked slowly to their food bowl. It had not been cleaned for a long time. New food was dropped on top, but the leftovers were never removed. That could make the Griffins sick.
Daniel watched the large creatures as they lazed about in the warm glow of the red sunset. But signs of neglect were present everywhere. Their feathers were dull, their fur mangled; how long had it been since they had seen a brush? They were well fed...too well fed to be effective in combat. They would not be...aerodynamic. Worst of all, there was a dull, animalistic look in the large creature's eyes. They seemed more like big cats than creatures capable of high levels of capacity and function. Only one looked like it had even flown recently, one that Daniel vaguely recognized.
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It had been lingering in the second story, a strong female with the coloring of an eagle. That was Parcel's griffin. She was well cared for and had been ridden recently.
The Tolsen looked pained and cried out, too loudly and too urgently. "Servant Branch, come here carefully! They be dangerous, faechild. These beasts..." the Griffins all hissed at the Tolsen on the other side of the half door.
Daniel sighed. As if standing over there was any safer than here. Griffins stayed because they wanted to. If they wanted to get out, they would just go. Griffins had abandoned their Lordlings before if they felt unloved or unchallenged.
"Come along! You won't have time to start tending them today, and there's ever so much ground to cover. I only have you until 9 o'clock, and the nights approach ever so swiftly."
"Which Court has right to these Griffins?" Daniel said softly. Griffins became excited to high pitch sounds. But that wasn't always bad. Going into battle, it had been his practice to practically squeal 'let's get dead things!' to Cinnamon Girl in a high pitch. If she was excited, she focused on the task at hand better. But when it was nap time, but she wanted to play, he would speak calmly and soothingly.
"Come along! You won't have time to start tending them today, and there's ever so much ground to cover. I only have you until 9 o'clock, and the nights approach ever so swiftly."
The one he had petted earlier, the brave scaredy cat, jumped down and blocked the door with its body. It stared at him with huge amber eyes.
"Oh no, Servant Branch, run away!" The Tolsen shrieked. The shrieking agitated the big cat. In fact, it agitated all of them.
A cacophony of hisses, growls, croaks, chirps, and caws emerged. Multiple Griffins unfurled their wings again, and several perched threateningly.
Daniel made his voice calm and soothing. "The Tolsen have no Lordlings, do they?" The words didn't matter as much as the tone.
"Not...currently." The Tolsen said.
He kept his tone gentle. "Not involved in campaigns much, I would wager."
"There have been no dread hordes in our territories for three hundred years."
"It shows."
Daniel held out his hand and cooed softly.
The scarredy cat Griffin slowly blinked, and Daniel returned the gesture. Then it pushed its head into his hand again and purred. It did not want him to go. Daniel looked at them. This was the fate of many Griffins of failed Lordlings. "I will be back," he said. "Law of Fae help me, I will be back."
Sad somber eyes met his, then the Griffin pulled away. It yawled after him. Daniel could almost imagine it saying 'come back.' Daniel left the large bird cats, musing.
The Servant Branch, officially a Stable Hand, followed the direction of the Stable Master and the pair began walking again.
"Which glorious court's griffins will this servant be attending?" he asked.
“These Griffins belong to the blue court, so you’ll need to be attentive.” The Tolsen guide continued to narrate.
Daniel smiled inside, catching the useless deception immediately. The Tolsen was trying to get around saying it was the Sky Court's Griffins by trying to use a synonym for the word Sky, which was Blue. This would also try to mislead Daniel into imagining these were the Blue Court Griffins. There was such a court called the Blue Court, but they were in strong partnerships with the Amethyst Sword so Lordling Elswith had very few interactions. And they would certainly want nothing to do with the Heirling of the Red Sword. Daniel bet the Tolsen didn't even visualize the 'B' in Blue as capitalized in his head as he spoke it. The details matter when one prevaricates from the truth.
But that failed, because Daniel knew both the breed the Sky Court preferred and he was starting to remember seeing some of the griffins from many years ago...when they had been more...aerodynamic.
He weighed whether the Tolsen said something false to draw Daniel into the conversation and whether he would gain anything by playing that game, before leaving the lie alone, his face expressionless.
Another thread came together. The Sky Court had been present at every one of his duties this day. His first assignment of the day was for the Sky Court, then during his time at the O'Tells, he had discovered evidence that the Sky Court was in one way or another inciting civil war with that Family, and finally his last duty of the day he discovers the Griffins in his care belong to the same Court...
If he believed that was all a coincidence, Daniel would deserve whatever trouble that was about to befall him.
The rotund creature on his spindly legs continued without commenting on Daniel’s thoughts. “Do take it seriously, faechild. Griffins need to be exercised daily, so you’ll probably have to do that sometimes. Normally the Griffin Knights or their squires handle it, but sometimes they can’t make it.”
Daniel had to duck to enter the next passage, thinking about the griffins he had seen throughout the years. Those Griffins were a different breed than the ones he’d flown with before, more eagle than lion, with the front forelegs more like a bird's legs, ending with yellow feet and dark black talons. The hind legs were those of a large cat, but they elegantly tapered into an eagle's talons around the ankle. The heads were like a bird’s head, but with furry lion ears. That breed was temperamental, even in the best of times.
“Do new hands often get assigned this duty?” Daniel asked.
The Tolsen turned stiffer. “Well…well. I just assumed you…know how to care for ‘em. We’ve been short-handed since the beasties got Wayne’s arms.”
"Got to watch out for that," Daniel said causally. What trick could unfold for him taking care of Griffins? Griffins could become incredibly intelligent and motivated. But left to their own devices...they could go feral.
Especially if they had once been cared for, then neglected. They could grow resentful. They could hold a grudge.
Not exactly what he hoped for. But then again, he was good with griffins. And he couldn't really say no...
The potbellied tolsen led Daniel to another few rooms, sometimes speaking of future duties and other times issuing warnings to avoid certain areas. They certainly were heading deeper into the areas that Daniel had rarely ventured. And they kept going to more and more remote chambers.
After they entered another chamber, this one with wooden planks and windows that opened into an atrium. There were windows and doors to outside spaces in many of the chambers at the stable, but they opened into an open aired atrium, not the windows outside.
“Sir, may this humble have a name to address you?”
The Tolsen froze. “Names are tricky, aren’t they faechild. I tell 'em, just call me Stable Master of the Green door. Keep everyone nice and separate.”
Not necessarily true, but then again maybe the Law of Fae worked differently for the different power levels. The King’s true name was widely known because only a fool would dare try to call and compel the most powerful Fae in the Seelie Realms.
Perhaps the game worked differently at different levels.
A stable hand ran after them, echoing steps through the twisting tunnels.
“Kenton, what are you doing here?” the tolsen said, looking surprised and annoyed.
“One of the Red Circle Griffins escaped and is running through the Stable. We need you to come to help us! We must find it quickly, before the Emerraris return.”
Daniel felt his heart speed up. There were people he hadn’t wanted to see, like Kane and Regis. Then there were people he had desperately wished to see. Or perhaps, he should clarify, Griffins.
Was it his Griffin? Was it Cinnamon Girl?
He had broken his promise to her, that night, so many weeks ago now.
He had headed into the tournament, plans dancing in his mind on how to cede from his Lordly Father's influence. He had told his Griffin he would be there that night to take her to find yummy dead things. She liked hunting. She liked pets on the head. She liked laying near him and purring. She weighed over a thousand pounds, but she considered herself small enough to still sit on his lap, like when she had first hatched and he held her small form, no bigger than a house cat with little feathery wings.
Despite her size, she was a fast griffin, born for speed. He was one of the few who could ride her, who could help her fly even faster than by herself. He could help her fly through storms, keeping the lightning off them both. She loved him, she was a good girl. She was loyal and smart, and swift.
And that day she had clearly been mad at him, because the rest of his Circle had left that morning, and they would be late to the Campaign against the advancing dread hordes.
He had lied.
He hadn't meant to.
He had told her he would be right there that night.