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She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;.
Multiverse: AU-crossovers-Book canon- Movie verse.

kobalous:

 

            “Perhaps it would be a wise choice not to.“  

          Trickery laced under refined saying and quoted becoming cataclysms that this she-warrior so feared to become of her race. Alas, but a schemed foolery on his part, so to say. Riddles aligned steadied delight, plunged to velvet strum by his Majesty’s own noted grace. Of course, ones pride thrived yet wounded forth hence faults and falling of his own accord. Framed sights relishing confusion, muddled harmonies soon bathed innermost tidings to wilder welcoming. Magic was indeed sewn into each angle, stone and foliage in sight. Fabricated from the King’s own mindset, then given existence by the many dreams of human folk alike. How cold blossoming fruits possibly thrive lacking imagination’s own distinct flare? Reveries taunt and once offered to the masses. 

         ”This realm is not of Elves, nor could it ever be. It is that of my own, the Goblin King.”  

           She would find no tress, nor trace of creatures benevolent nor giving within this puzzle. Illusions dusted still regions, filtered to the brim by mindless and donned beings whom knew only of his true rule. Whilst he may have taken quite the bored delight in tasking himself to upright these fools, regarded as a majesty gave great pleasure. Long pass had it been since he King of Goblins had come across those of is kind, the Fae were a varying bunch. A knowing smile un-faded by slights, whilst query ridden himself as to how such a presence could cross into his realm. 

           ”You shall find a great deal of dreams however.”

           <sub>There was no shock when the embers for knowledge were snuffed out and answered with words that made little to no sense upon due process. He knew of Elves, he was not of the bread of Goblin she was familiar with and thus malachite eyes narrowed further in finely woven thoughts.
            "The king of Goblins?” Her daggers flared in lithe hands, she had half a hair to strike him down where he stood – her patience running thin. 

B R E A T H E. 

           A state of calm returned back towards the warrior as silent feet began to prowl.

           “& How shall I find dreams? Shall I awaken and return to my realm?” Her voice was harsh and quite rude, mocking him with her sharp tongue out of ebbed on frustration. She never enjoyed magic, not when tricks were being played and answers were being danced upon. But a thought struck 12 and she froze, regretting her harsh tone. She was of merit to respect and show tact - even to those she could not trust; even to sorcerers. 

           ".. You look like no goblin I have seen.“</sub>