Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)Name: Jaheel or commonly shortened to 'Jahl'
Age: 18
Gender/Sex: Male/Male
Species: Human
Appearance: Naturally tanned skin, somewhat bronzed/earthy but if looked at closely he has a number of freckles over his face that normally wouldn't be noticed from afar. His hair is dark, cut short and has potential to be unkempt if he didn't tend to it as it naturally waves, frames his face, and has more of a courser texture. His hair is dark brunette but with the slightest bit of a tawny or reddish hue to it given the right light.. As for his face, his eyes are fairly thin despite having fuller lips and more round features than sharp ones. Still, he holds an authoritative expression a good portion of the time so it's not typically the first thing someone would even pay attention to. Despite most of his features being on the darker end (his father's side being fairly dark-skinned people while his mother's side had a more olive complexion), his eyes are a light brown and can go so far as to be described as having an amber hue to them. He dresses modestly and tends to stick to deep/brownish reds, beige, browns, oranges, sometimes golds and anything that tends to be pretty earthy in color since he doesn't find white or blues to suit him. Never one to have his arms seen bare so he sticks to dark, long-sleeved tunics and neatly buttoned outerwear. Not one for jewelry aside from perhaps a traditional ring worn only by kings.
Other: Two younger twin sisters who take after him as well as a few cousins who frequent his palace.
Low, incoherent murmurs passed through the great hall as every eye fell upon the strange being, forcibly stationed in the room's center – hands and forearms secured in intricate binding of leather to ensure his capture. Likewise, his ankles were far from ignored as they were bound with enough slack to allow him to be led. Never had there been so much awe in the palace, so much gaping and staring as there had been from the lowliest of servants to the most rounded of scholars and appointees. Each shared the identical likeness of wide-eyed bafflement, their own awe silencing them as they soaked in the fleeting sight of the elf in all his bound glory. Truly there had never been a more astounding scene in years – that of a captured elf on trial for attempting the king's life in the very palace he would soon submit himself.
The process of a trial was more customary than it was dependent on a jury. In fact, the judge paid little to no mind of the elf himself but rather negotiating said creature's punishment with none other than the very one he was sent to slay. The young king seated close enough for the two to speak privately without the distraction of those allowed inside the courtroom, those who'd spent the entirety of the session passing along frantic whispers while they so desperately attempted to get a clearer view from where they had been seated. Even the most diligent students of law could not hold back their unabashed curiosity. Strange... he was so completely odd to them and it showed on nearly every face. To catch his eyes would be a blessing; to catch his eyes would also instill fear among them. A fear of what they were not sure – of the unknown, of the unfamiliar, of the inhuman. Yet the king had no qualms in doing so. Rather, his were inviting in the way an unlikely predator welcomed its prey, so dreadfully patient and confident in himself that he found no reason to tense. He only seldom parted gaze unless it was to address the judge, even then he could not help but flicker back glances. Still, he did not gawk nor did his dark brows furrow or face crumple in disdain when facing the criminal, for he had much bigger intentions than to cringe at what could have been.
Near closing, the final question came hushed at his side. Was he sure of this? Yes. He nodded to the man once more, a wordless affirmation that he understood each and every risk when there was always the simple solution: execution. No, he stressed his refusal so many times during the session, claiming that this 'strange one' would find a greater purpose at his side than hanging cold from a noose. No one had gotten so close to him, had breached the outer stone walls with such dexterity and outwitted his guards more qualified to be soldiers than stationery men... nor had they found his sleeping chambers at such an impressive rate. It was not the first attempt, nor would it be the last, but the quality of efforts were nonetheless appreciated. They almost succeeded.
Almost.
With that, his decision was made and the judge had no power to deny him. He stood first, nodded with the custom of finality to the judge followed by the bewildered audience of sorts that sat to either side. The sentence had then been announced: the criminal would solely belong to the king henceforth, as both property as consequence of his crime and failure.
