death incarnate & night triumphant

Andras is entirely ready for the child to bolt, yet, she doesn't. Instead, she stands there, tucking her small hands behind her back, her gaze locking with his as her shyness begins to radiate off her. The High Lord merely offers a gentle smile as he asks if she's hungry, the child dipping her head in agreement and he realizes that he might be a touch intimidating to the girl. Still, he allows that gentle smile to tug on his features before he reaches up and brushes his delicately pointed ears, casting a wink at her and he can see the recognition dawn over the child almost immediately as she too grasps her ears within her hands. "I am," he nods, his eyes alight with amusement. Though there were plenty of children racing around Somnia, he never had the delight to speak with them much, he had quite forgotten how innocent children were. "Nice to meet you Maeve, I'm Andras," he introduces himself in turn, outstretching a hand to shake her tiny one and yet, instead of a shake, she grasps his palm and leads him inside. He chuckles quietly as they take a seat by the window, the man sliding into place easily, his arms resting on the table itself as he watches the child curiously.

He hardly has a moment to gather his thoughts before she's launching into her own innocent discussion, his eyes wrinkling in amusement at the term 'boy'. The only person that called him boy was Ida, the woman far, far older than him. She was, perhaps, the only faerie that could get away with it, Andras merely accepting it, though he was well over a thousand years old. As she name drops a boy from a movie, he tilts his head slightly, puzzled at the connection. Andras quite confused all the same, he had never truly understand the thrall of sitting in front of a television for hours at a time, the man needing something more physical to do, he could barely sit at a desk and deal with the mountains of paperwork it took to run a city. Even a hidden city had its tasks. As she questions him about Tinker Bell, the name sounds familiar but he amuses her, shaking his head as that smile continues to play on his lips. It doesn't take long before she's explaining, her words final and he can feel a sadness growing in her. She had been told time and time again that faeries weren't real, that magic did not exist in this world. Hmmm. How interesting.

Andras can smell her nervousness washing off of her, perhaps unsure of what to do with the man sitting across from her, though she isn't quiet for long, the child's mind wanting to learn as much as they can. Her next question almost startles him before he lets out low laughter, "Yes, I can do many tricks, Maeve," he says, his words entirely humored in that moment. "How about this for a trick?" he projects his voice into her mind, the man hardly ever touching another's thought yet, he hardly thinks Maeve would care. Perhaps one day he would share his massive wings with her yet, he doubted he would ever show her that darkness he so wields, the man certain it would frighten the child. Weren't all children afraid of the dark? He's drawn away from his own thoughts, concern filling his features as he listens to the girl. He's certain she's describing her own power, not really sure how to use it. Maeve seems to fill with guilt in that moment as she openly explains she had done terrible things in her past.

"I've done terrible and wicked things too, Maeve but it sounds like what you did was to survive and that, my child, is impressive you have made it here alone," he says gently, the man having gathered enough that she was, in fact, alone. Though, he inquires nonetheless, wanting to learn more from her, "Maeve, are you here alone? Do you have any parents?" He asks her, clasping his hands together on the table as he tilts his head. Waiting for her response, he turns as a waitress moves to stand at the end of their table, the man lifting his dark hazel gaze to the woman as she asks what they want. "Just a tea for me and maybe something special for, Maeve," he turns to look at the child again, casting her wink in the direction. The waitress seemingly to understand, she gives them both a smile and nods at them before turning away to put in the order. His attention slides back to Maeve then, his hazel eyes appraising the faerie child, "Do you remember how you told me Peter Pan and Tinker Bell weren't real?" He asks suddenly, his head tilting slightly, "What if I told you that there are others like them and that they are real?" He asks gently, again that smile touching the corner of his mouth. "Maeve, I think you've felt like you've been alone for your whole life, there are a great many more like us out there. Where I live, there are more faerie children too."

Andras Steinhello darling