Pinkgothic played:

Noko and Tleaz

The polished dark marble floor encompassed not only the circular throne room but the entire loft, as he'd seen when they're initially arrived. A nest of blankets and cushions buried something square that might have been some kind of matress. Amidst it lay Tleaz, curled about himself like a slumbering kitty, eyes closed and with a deeply content smile on his face.

Nacreah, the Rahjin that deemed herself responsible for Frederick's well-being (or Tleaz's slanted definition thereof), had advised not to try and attack Lord Tleaz, for he wore his necklace even when he slept and it would protect him if one tried to harm him or remove it. She'd mentioned something about swift death. She'd also endearingly asked her lord Frederick not get himself killed or hurt.

It was tempting to ignore the warning and try for murder regardless.

With all four doors leading into the room currently closed with roller shutters who's slits let in the first rays of morning light, the way to get out of here was currently to ask Tleaz. He wasn't going to get around that, really. The shutters would go up when Tleaz got up, at his command, and then he'd have his magical shenanigans at his finger tips that put his ice elemental ones to complete shame. Ice elemental powers that, by the way, seemed to be utterly useless in the 'make hinges and locks brittle enough to break' department. He had a few bruises on the outside of his right paw saying as much.

Nacreah was currently making his guest quarters, but that alone was hardly why he was out of his prison - no, Tleaz had apparently seen light enough to have instructed he be let out of the room in the morning.

He wasn't even going to try guessing the motivation behind that.

"I'm leaving," he said, flatly, across the slumbering druid Guardian. "Thanks for the steak."

Tleaz twisted a little as he was addressed, tugged out of his sleep or nap or whatever raptorians did at this time in the morning. The grimace of discontent was - unfortunately, as far as the captive was concerned - brief. Sluggishly, he opened his eyes and stared at Frederick.

Frederick stared back, trying to have his gaze smoulder as much as possible.

"Are you still being a petulant child?" Tleaz enquired, voice almost saccharine, evidently endeared by Frederick's persistance. He shook that slender muzzle, smiling, and patted at the soft, sprawling nest beside him with one scaled paw. "Cheer up and make yourself comfortable."

The black raptorian barked a snarl, muzzle wrinkling visibly as tension rippled through him and took hold. It prompted Tleaz to lift his shoulders from the soft ground and adopt a startled look, brows furrowing. "You might be able to get the Rahjin of this island to do your bidding, but nothing and no one has ever given you authority over me," the captive hissed.

Tleaz gave a sad little smile, like a parent dealing with a misinformed child. "You should stop being so selfish," he responded in his usual patient tone, even as he shifted and grasped for the staff of his currently leant against the wall of the room behind him.

As his muzzle swerved back to pay attention to Frederick once more and divulge more words, claws struck against it, drawing three fine crimson lines across those dark chocolate scales. An instant later, well before conscious thought could have set in, the gold sphere of the staff pulsed light that rippled through the room as a compact wave of pressure, effortlessly knocking the ebony raptor back, preventing his other paw from ever connecting.

Claws clattered against stone as Frederick, slightly disoriented, breath partly knocked out of him, picked himself back up from the polished ground.

Tleaz was standing, clutching his staff, tail swinging lightly like a pendulum denoting agitation, and narrowed, expressive eyes glaring down at Frederick. "Ungrateful..." he began, then lifted the staff, the motion seemingly responsible for a silver sheen in his eyes that dominated their appearance for a moment.

The automatic motion that had been born from instinct - a continued assault, a second attempt at raining claws down on the Guardian - was cut short as Frederick gave a curt yowl, both wrists jerked up and back by what seemed like burning rings of light unimpressed by the thin plastic of his gloves.

Tleaz' eyes slowly faded back to their normal colour, details returning, a look of deep disapproval distorting his expression. His free paw rose to wipe at the claw marks, then withdraw and report back to him by swerving into his gaze. One line had narrowly missed his left eye, the sting of it revealed. The patch of light crimson mingled with the colour of his scales confirmed that blood had been drawn.

The supposed aggressor tried to scramble backwards, claws dragging against the smooth ground, trying to stem weight away from the offending, non-corporeal cuffs.

"I'm at wit's end with you," Tleaz remarked, watching his motions, tone thick with irritation. "I've treated you with reverence and this is how you thank me," he remarked. "You stem yourself violently against the most basic courtesy. If that's the only language you speak-"

The rant was cut short by a clatter as Frederick slipped, hanging awkwardly from the air from his magical shackles, and something fell from his left glove.

Tleaz' muzzle clacked shut for an instant. Then: "What's this?" he asked, gaze latched onto the amber stone as he stretched forward and leant to pick it from the ground.

Frederick's gut wrenched. Instinct was to say 'nothing', but from what he'd seen of Tleaz so far - which had conveyed a more than reasonable chunk of the Guardian's personality to him - anything but a pleading truth was far too likely to have him toy with it and ultimately break it. And breaking it was unacceptable - to use a glaring euphemism. "D-don't." Okay, no, that wasn't nearly as eloquent and explanatory as it should be. "Don't break it, please," he tried, scramble for a firmer phrasing successful. "It's tied to a life."

Tleaz twisted the stone in his paw, just under palm-sized as it was, more flat than not, inspecting it.

The silence was, for the first time, harrowing. There was no return from the emotional point that had punched Frederick in the gut, though - he could snark across a lot of things, and there was still more than just a burning desire to, but the idea that a wrong word could spell the final end of Eclipsed's culture was too much to bear. "I- I'll stay. I'll stay as long as you let the others go? If you give the gem to one of the others. I'll stay here."

Tleaz arched a brow, staring at the stone in stunned silence.

"Please?"

The discontent tension in Tleaz' body dissipated, replaced by his usual demeanour - a light smile tugged at his features. "All right, Frederick," he said, soothing in tone, gaze still fixed on the gem. "I forgive you."