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Post by Marshmallow on Nov 14, 2014 5:14:55 GMT -6
The tittering of laughter, Raine would soon find, came from a small group of women gathered in the antechamber. Four women sat murmuring amongst themselves on a low sofa. Some cast a few shy glances in Raine's direction over glasses of a sweet-smelling fruit juice. Judging by the fine silks and jewelry they wore, they weren't normal temple servants. Their clothing was of a very fine material, brilliantly colored in blues, reds and greens, and so sheer, it did little to hide the contours of their bodies. The lack of any specific shared mark, on either their exposed skin or their clothing, meant they probably weren't slaves. Which left one distinct possibility: that they were consorts.
"Good morning," one of the women finally greeted him, rising from the sofa and crossing the small space. She kept a comfortable distance, especially since he was clad in only a towel, and smiled sweetly. Her skin was a soft bronze hue, and her hair done up in a small bun. There were a few, almost unnoticeable strands of grey and fine wrinkles about her eyes; clearly she was the eldest, and spoke well for her lord's taste and loyalty to still have a place here among three much younger women. "You arrived last night, yes? We saw you asleep... Welcome. My name is Ashasta. Don't mind the others, they like to gossip. Kayan should be arriving shortly with clothes." Her voice was soft and kind.
The curtains that shut off the King of Fire's private chambers from the hallway beyond parted then. In a miracle of timing, a long-haired young man entered, dressed rather similarly to the women. He looked to be about similar to Raine in stature, and carried with him a stack of folded silks and fine cotton. He seemed startled at sight of Raine, awake and standing all but bare in the room, but smiled broadly anyway. "Ah, you're awake! Greetings, I am Kayan," he introduced himself cheerfully and offered up the folded clothes. "These may suit you better than the towels."
Cheerful introductions were interrupted by the sound of a loud groan from Marchelute's bed chamber. It wasn't so much a groan of fatigue as one of pain. Actually it was distinctly pain. Ashasta abruptly spun on her heel and sprinted from the room to see to her lord. The other women fell silent, one moving to his door but lingering just this side of the curtain, and Kayan's friendly smile diminished. "You should get dressed. Our Adar Al-maluk often wakes with pains, but Ashasta takes good care of him."
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Post by Salandis on Nov 15, 2014 3:52:13 GMT -6
Raine stood in the doorway awkwardly, initially confused at the presence of others. On understanding what they were, he felt some relief. Of course he has consorts. Concubines. Whatever. Whatever their title, he knew their position*, and accorded them a deep bow (although awkwardly, holding a towl). Before he could introduce himself, however, Kayan arrived. "Oh sweet children of Fae, clothing!" was Raines response to the offered clothing.
On the heels of that statement was the realization that his necklace and bracelets were still in the hands of an unknown guard somewhere. Suppressing that thought - his hands were too full to slap his forehead in frustration - he instead thanked Kayan politely.
Abruptly the moan of pain cut short his second attempt at an introduction. Ashasta ran into the room, and a pall was cast over the room.
"Pain?" Raine asked, curiosity aroused. "What would pain him so early? That bed looked comfortable enough"
despite the solemnity, that comment raised another round of laughter, quickly smothered. One of the other girls rolled her eyes, but it was Kayan that answered.
"He wakes sometimes in pain. Being the lord of fire has it's challenges."
"What challenges?" Raine pressed, only to have the other man shrug. Looking at the other three woman, they seemed not able to meet his eyes. He thought for a moment. Whatever pain was involved, it was common enough that they were essentially used to it. So he could ask Marchelute about it himself later, if needed.
"Well then." He said with a smile. "I am Raine. And yes, I arrived last night. The Adar Al-Maruk helped me out of... well, a tight situation."
One of the girls walked up to him. Her hair was down, and her eyes were a light brown that complemented her soft, coffee-creme skin. The eyes themselves seemed far from soft, and she looked over Raines face boldly. "A tight situation?" Her voice was fluid, melodious, even charming. But the meaning behind them was not. "He must really like you, to fish you out of trouble and then give you those rooms." The last four words seemed loaded with venom. Raine was confused, and let it show. But her eyes roamed up and down him dismissively, and she huffed. "I don't know what he sees in you." She turned and strode out of the room.
Raine raised an eyebrow at Kayan, who shrugged again, this time with a little embarrassment. "Fahi. She is a little dominant, and has been trying to move into the wife's rooms' since she arrived.
The meaning of that sentence filtered through Raines mind for a second before the shock hit. "Oh no... That isn't..." Raine sighed. "Look, I will go and get dressed, and then I will have to explain."
Hurrying back into the wife's rooms, with memories of a certain smirk going through his mind, he hurriedly dressed. Feeling much better in the light cotton clothes, he returned to the antechamber. Kayan was sitting with the other two ladies around a low table, chatting lightly. Their eyes turned to him as he walked in, and he joined them at the table.
"Let me try again." Raine said with a smile. "What my position is, probably isn't general knowledge yet. I think it will take an announcement from the Emperor to clarify, but I am not the wife, or prime consort."
"You have the rooms." One of the other ladies said. She was softly spoken, and there was no barb in her tone. "I'm Samira." She said with a smile. "This is Tara" she introduced the other woman still at the table. That one gave him a small smile.
"I do have the rooms." Raine said, raking a hand through his hair. Kayan offered him a glass of pomegranate juice, which he took. It was sweet, and served as a good break. "I have the rooms because last night there was nowhere else to put me easily." He continued. "I do not yet know if I will keep them, or move into others."
Samira nodded slowly, and looked at Tara, who only shrugged. Raine sensed that they were not entirely convinced. And then realized that they did not have to be: These were not his consorts, and nor was he their competition. It seemed direct action was called for here.
"Look, I think the fastest way to clear this up would be by talking to Marchelute himself, yes?" He said, getting up. Not waiting for a response, and ignoring their startled cries, he moved rapidly through the curtain into Marchelute's bedchamber, where occasional groans of pain still emanated. He strode confidently through the threshold, certain that by now Marchelute would at the very least be decently attired.
Of course, he halted several feet into the room, only nodding slowly. "Aye" He said. "That would be painful." He walked slowly towards the bed, thinking of the many pain remedies he had heard of in his life, which he had rarely needed, and the ones that had worked. But mostly his mind was wondering at the sight of Marchelute mostly unclothed, showing the extent of the hybrid form that before Raine had only been able to guess at. "Painful indeed." He muttered.
*(Posters note. In history, the position of consort or concubine in comparison to wife did not carry the same kind of meaning as today. Today, Judeao-Christianity has turned these positions into being analogous to whore. Back then, a concubine would have been nearly as honored as any wife. They would have been well spoken, probably well educated, and would have held positions of some authority. While any children they bear would not be heirs (only the wifes' children could be that, unless there was no wife to bear such heirs) they could be assured that their children could rise to positions commensurate with the status of their partners. Children of royalty and concubines, for example, would still be able to take high positions of government or army office.)
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Post by Marshmallow on Nov 16, 2014 0:23:28 GMT -6
Seated on the edge of a luxuriously large bed near the room's center was Marchelute, wearing only his small clothes. He looked as though he'd barely slept a wink all night, with deep shadows under his eyes and a complexion that was almost ashen - where there was skin, at any rate. Those obsidian scales covered his arms to the shoulder, and his legs right up to and over his hips, and all down his back. He sat hunched, resting his forehead in one hand, elbow propped on a knee. Ashasta sat behind him, working her hands over his neck, shoulders and back in a soothing massage, trying to ease the Sacred Fire's pains.
And the cause of his pain? A pair of half-formed wings upon his back, resting slightly unfurled. They were by no means full-size, perhaps only an arm and a half's length when stretched out. The membrane was thick around narrow 'fingers' of uneven lengths, though the thumb claws were fully separate and mobile. The wing arms were scaled as well, though the scales grew lighter in color and softer in texture down the length of the wing, vanishing entirely just after the thumb. A twinge of pain elicited a hiss, and one wing curled tightly against Marchelute's back in reflex. Ashasta cooed softly, and with practiced hands, gently pried the wing open and coaxed sore, still-developing muscles to relax.
The sound of an uninvited intruder in his bedroom prompted a low, rasping growl from the Adar Al-maluk. He didn't bother looking up at first - the growl alone was enough to send any of his consorts scurrying from the room - until he recognized the voice. He glanced at Raine from the corner of his eye, and forced a tired smile. "Well good morning. I see you've found some proper clothes," he greeted, sounding every bit as pain-worn as he looked, although he tried to hide it from his tone. "I trust the others have made you feel welcome?" Another twinge, and he grimaced. "Yes, painful indeed. I suppose you can tell that I haven't always looked like this... These," he gestured to the wings "have been paining me for... Gods, I don't even remember."
"At least as long as I've been here," Ashasta hummed. She looked up from her work, mildly confused by Raine's presence and concerned for her lord's privacy and comfort. She almost asked him to leave, but reasoned that if Marchelute wanted him gone, he'd be gone already. And if he had been given the wife's rooms, then surely he already outranked her anyway. She offered him a smile, and wordlessly turned her attention back to her lord.
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Post by Salandis on Nov 18, 2014 3:47:53 GMT -6
"A transformation, then." Raines voice held a hint of wonder. "One day, you shall fly. I envy you that." He grinned. "Though I do not envy you the cost."
His expression sobered as he looked more at the wings, and the work Ashasta was going. "Have you tried much in pain relief for those?" He gestured at the wings, curiosity in his voice. "I... well, pain is mostly a stranger to me, but I still get headaches. Little things. And being a soldier, I have learned what actually works and what is just snake oil."
A smile played across his face. "I can get a servant to track some down, and then you can tell me why you put me in the wife's rooms." His grin widened. "I think one of those others may try to plant a dagger in my back, from how she acted this morning."
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Post by Marshmallow on Nov 18, 2014 8:03:47 GMT -6
Marchelute smiled wearily. "One day, perhaps..." he mused, wincing in pain. "Assuming I survive it. Pain a stranger, you say? Then I envy you, Raine. There have been days... days when I would swear the pain would kill me, and thought I would be relieved if it did..." His eyes squinted shut then and he clenched his jaw at a spike of pain. Ashasta had found a tender spot, and reflexes tried to fold the wings tightly closed.
It passed quickly, ebbing and letting him relax. He sighed. This was his usual morning. "I've tried a number of tonics and salves... Most do nothing. I would drink the pain away, but as you can imagine, that would only hinder me in other ways. A tragedy, it would be, if I accidentally incinerated one of the Shahrdar."
At mention of the rooms, a wide, almost suggestive grin spread across the Flame's face. "Ah yes, the rooms... Well, where else could I put you? The other options were servant's quarters or my own bed," he replied, good humor replacing some of the tension in his voice. "Though one could argue that it is almost fitting. What better companion for the King of Fire than Water?"
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Post by Salandis on Nov 20, 2014 2:15:08 GMT -6
Raine laughed sharply. "Tragic for that Shahrdar, maybe, but his family could only consider it an honor... and anyone else might secretly be pleased." He sobered. "I will speak with one of the others, and get you something that will work. You must use it sparingly, but it will be of aid."
He walked as he spoke, crossing to the large bed. Taking up a pillow, he considered it carefully, and then held it firmly in his hands. After a moment, he handed it to Ashasta, who took it only reluctantly - and then gasped, almost dropping it from the cold. He smiled at her, but she only offered a shaky smile back - the pillow was colder than ice, and to hear him called king of water clearly put him above a simple wife's position. "Use that in the mean time." he advised her. "despite his heat, cold may numb the pain somewhat."
He looked down at the seated Marchelute, and grinned. "And as for the rest, you can get me into your bed if you provide me enough of Persia's fine wines that I think it a good idea - and don't mind the frostbite."
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