[b]Name:[/b] Lilith D'ardor Averice Beauchamp

Gender: Female

Age Taken: 2

Age Escaped: Apparently 17

Seeming: Fairest

Kith: Companion

Blessing: A Friend In Need. 'Spend glamour to add +1 to rolls made by any character acting in the Changeling's defense or best interests.'

[img]http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/b9/c9/ee/b9c9eeb1eac9fc379145d937b3656f91.jpg[/img]

[b]Appearance (Glamor):[/b]
Standing several inches below five feet tall, her diminutive size is disarming to say the least. With long, white blonde hair and a complexion as smooth and pale as porcelain, the vibrance of her sea blue eyes is an almost startling contrast. Utterly petite, her small size lends her a doll-like countenance, fragile and delicate. Her features are equally delicate, as if painstaking painted on, from her wide, doe-like blue eyes to the pert button of her nose and the sensuous bow of her lips.

White silk ribbons are tied into her hair, gathering the pale curls into an intricate, upswept style that emphasizes the youthful fullness of her cheeks. Her small frame is draped in white as well; an angora sweater made of the softest white rabbit fur clings to her torso, and a short white skirt with an elegant white lace overlay falls several inches above the knee, exposing shapely legs seemingly untouched by summer's sun. On her feet are a pair of white ankle boots with tassled fringe and kitten heels that add a melodic click to her footfalls. Her jewelry, from the chandelier drop earrings to the ring on her left middle finger is made from gleaming white crystal, and a crystal crucifix is suspended from a silver chain at her throat.

[b]Appearance (No Glamour):[/b]
Standing at barely three feet tall, this girl resembles nothing quite so much as a living porcelain doll. With long, curled white silk ribbons for hair and a complexion as cold and smooth as the finest porcelain, it is the luminous glow of her sapphire eyes that really draws the attention. Utterly petite, her small size adds to her doll-like countenance, fragile and delicate. Her features are equally delicate, as if painstaking painted on, from the pert button of her nose and the sensuous bow of her lips, though her eyes seem to be made from nothing less than actual sapphires.

Luminous white silk ribbons replace her hair, gathered into an impossibly intricate style that frames her delicate face. Her small frame is draped in white as well; a white silk gown with sheer sleeves and a deeply plunging back, the train fluttering behind her as if dancing on a breeze of its own. Her jewelry, from the chandelier drop earrings to the ring on her left middle finger is made from gleaming white crystal, and crystal crucifix is suspended from a silver chain at her throat.

[b]Court:[/b] Winter

[b]Personality:[/b] Thoughtful and slow to speak, there is a sense of wonder in her gaze, as if she is taking delight in everything she sees for the very first time. An aura of helplessness surrounds her personally, though she is quick to offer what assistance she can to anyone else that may be in need, even if that assistance is to her detriment. Far from a leader, she prefers to remain in the background, a companion ready to offer what solace she can.

Clarity/Wyrd: 4 Clarity, 8 Wyrd

Glamour: 8

Contracts & Clauses:

[b]Contract: Hearth[/b]
Clause - Fickle Fate: She causes a minor curse on an individual.
Clause - Favored Fate: She slightly betters the fortunes of a target.
Clause - Beneficent Fate: She guarantees success for her target.

[b]Contract: Eternal Winter[/b]
Clause - Jack's Breath: If she hears a shiver, she may lower the temperature in the area.
Clause - Touch of Winter: Once she writes something she hates in a liquid, she can freeze liquids with a touch.
Clause - Riding the Devil's Jawbone: If a bell rings near her, she can surround herself with a frozen aura that disables her enemies.

[b]Contract: Fleeting Winter[/b]
Clause - The Dragon Knows: Looking into a target's eyes, she will know the cause of their sorrow.
Clause - Slipknot Dreams: Once a target has accepted a gift from her, she can let them forget about the cause of their sadness.

[b]Backstory:[/b]
Lilith remembers very little of her time on this side of the Hedge, having been abducted when she was but a toddler. What she does remember is a sense of warmth and caring; a mother's face obscured by time and memory lost.

Upon being taken, she was given into the care of what can only be described as horrifically beautiful living dolls. Some were barely older than she, and some were dolls withered with age but still ethereal in their beauty; cracked porcelain and yellowed white satin draped in mystery. She was taught to sit still for hours on end, sometimes even days. Dressed up in the finest clothes, she would pose for what seemed like eternity, expressions never her own. Forced smiles, affected pouts, and feigned yearning made her a master at hiding her own emotions, or perhaps a slave to the emotional whims of others - the line blurs.

After many, many years of this training, the True Fae that had taken her, a cold but distant prince of some corner of Arcadia, returned to whisk her away from her tutors; none of whom she ever saw again. They traveled, she the silent companion, he the silent Master. Servants would change her clothes, do her hair, basically keeping her as perfect and pretty as he would wish it, though to what end she knew not. Her life at this point had become an un-life, she was an object for viewing and no longer a child with emotions of her own, no longer a person with opinions to be expressed.

Despite her inability to express herself, or perhaps because of it, her mind grew sharp with the skills of observation one picks up by being unable to participate in the world. When they would visit others, be it cottage or castle, she would be set down somewhere nearby, an observer. She learned things this way. She learned languages, she learned names, she learned secrets. She learned songs, she learned poems - such epic poetry, recounted time and time again in her long moments of mental solitude.

And so her un-life continued, until one day, quite out of the blue, she was addressed directly. It was midday, the middle of winter and she was seated on a plush cushion in a crystal carriage with none but her Master nearby, so when he spoke, it could be to no one but her. He asked, of all things, her opinion of the weather. It was an icy winter day, but the sun was shining and all the world was wreathed in frost, and she told him so, her voice still carrying the melodic lilt of childhood, unused all these years. Over time, he asked her more questions, and she gave more answers. She learned to ask him questions, and of these she remembers every answer he ever gave. She remained a doll, pampered and precious, but she became a companion in time, invited to speak, to recite poetry on their visits.

At times, then, she would be loaned as a gift. Never so long as to give her cause to think He would not return for her, but long enough for her to be fawned over at a party, or petted for good luck before some election or event. Then came one eve, on some such extended borrowing, when the Fae to whom she'd been privileged sought liberties no one had ever suggested to Lilith before. Afraid, she called out for her Master, and swiftly he came, dispatching her assailant as she looked on.

From that day, he no longer lent her out, but also no longer sought her company with the frequency of years past. And all too soon, he informed her that she would be returning to the place of her training, where a new girl had arrived, and would need her expertise. She accepted this fate, as she had accepted nearly all that had come to pass yet, but a terrible blizzard conspired to ruin these plans. A carriage accident, and her Master and his footmen were lost, leaving her alone in all of Arcadia quite suddenly.

Making decisions did not come naturally to Lilith, so it perhaps took her longer than it might have to make her way to and through the Hedge. But make it she did, arriving on the outskirts of Leeds of all places. Unfamiliar sights and sounds and altogether too many people made for a terrible re-entry into the world of Iron, and were it not for a timely intervention from a merciful benefactor, she might have thrown herself back into the Hedge toward that which was familiar. Accepting a position as the personal assistant of a Leeds City Councilman, none other than her patron and an active member of the Winter Court, Lilith is a long way from finding out who she is, or even deciding she wants to know the answer to that question.