(Oooooof XD That’s funny actually.)
“Pure iron hurts the worse and does the most damage.” He replied, his fingers twitching towards his shoulders. A shudder ran through his body. “Mixed metals with iron in them don’t hurt as bad. And if the iron is little to none, then I hardly notice it at all.” The tall male wandered over to his jewelry collection, grinning at the many stones and metals he possessed. “The earrings and jewelry I wear now is meant to ‘ward off Fae.’ But they didn’t use enough iron to ward anything off.” He snickered before turning back to her, lowering his head respectively.
“I’m sure you already know why I tell you these things.” He replied, a glint in his eyes that could only be described as mischievous. “We all play this game, now don’t we?”
Bad memory or not, everything Zar said was filed away on the off chance she would be able to remember it. Who knew, maybe it would come back. “I guess we do.” Amira agreed, arching an eyebrow with a strange elegance. I should get my eyebrow pierced. A stud or two in one of them. That would be fun. “That’s how the world turns, ain’t it? Games are played, whether you win or lose?”
Zar seemed happy with her response as he moved to her side and gently bowed. “Such a smart young woman, tell me, where did you run from, if I may ask?” His lips parted in a wicked grin, but he didn’t seem threatening. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The weeds and grass around seemed to perk up, and lean in towards Nordali as he spoke.
"The from doesn't matter so much as the next." Amira said vaguely, slipping the wire away and pulling out some odd vial full of a golden shimmery substance that seemed to change from liquid to powder and back again. She tossed it in the air once before catching it, then fiddling again. "But if you really must know, my home was at one point the Kingdom of Kehlaia. A beautiful country with shit ass government and royalty. Prophets bless."
Nor froze, eyeing her up and down at her words. He was too shocked to really remember the vial and it’s contents. “You’re not wrong. They really are one hell of a kingdom in the worst way.” He growled, standing up straight. I was a Valdorian. Not anymore.” He scowled at the name in his mouth and stood up straight. “Arrogant bastards they all were.” He leaned against the table and reached up to undo the slice of fabric holding his hair back. “As much as I love the Fae race and all, they really aren’t as amazing as everyone makes them out to be.”
"The only decent royal was probably the youngest princess of my kingdom. I hear she was a sweet person." Amira mused, shifting half a step away from him at this new information. Valdorian. He was from the same kingdom as her husband-to-be was. "But arrogance is a trait common in those of higher class, don't you think?" Papa wasn't too bad, a good man at heart. But he fell victim to my mother and his advisors. I just hope Rana doesn't suffer the same fate. "I've met a few Fae in my lifetime, and they aren't the worst, at the very least. Now, Turians? I've never met any people who have all been so unfailingly horrible." They didn't like her or her people, to say the least. And tended to have a…hostile view on her being anywhere near where they were.
He snickered and shook his head. “I’ve heard she’s ‘beautiful, talented, and bright’ but isn’t every princess shown that way?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair before redoing the ponytail he had it in before. “Was it Her they were going to marry off to the prince of my kingdom? What was his name? Nordali?” His name felt strange in his mouth, especially said in such a carefree way. “Arrogant bastard he is too. Ran away to escape the marriage. I don’t blame him. A forced marriage never ends well.”
"They are, but she really was." A small slip up. Sort of. It was odd, the intensity and knowing in her voice, but she came across as so flighty and strange that if one wanted to, they could pass it off as just a weird thing. "No, wasn't that the eldest princess? She was next in line, but as a daughter, she couldn't inherit the throne. So it would make sense to try and get an heir as quick as possible, since there was no chance of the Sultan and his wife conceiving a son." She eyed the vial in her hand, holding it up to catch the light with it, the contents shimmering brightly. "They don't. They create resentment, more often than not. Especially towards kids born of that union."
He narrowed his eyes. “You sound like you know her personally.” The half-Fae growled, watching her carefully. “Were the princesses and royals familiar with the public?” Then his body language shifted back to something friendlier. “Ah, of course. We’re you a servant treated unfairly? I wouldn’t be surprised. You may have the body language and poise of a noble woman - which threw me off at first - but you do not speak and act like a noble woman. It’s not uncommon to see that in servants and the lesser folk.”
He pushed himself off the desk and faced her, peering down at her. “Those children are forced as well, are they not?” He reached out to push a strand of her hair out of her face. The action was cold and it almost seemed as if Nor could get away with touching anyone he wanted. “You are quite fair. You must have been a treasured servant.”
A servant. That worked. She could absolutely work with that. "Yeah. I swapped between kitchen work and waiting on the princesses. The youngest was sweet, but the eldest was….a mess, to say the least. Resentful herself." His comment about the children of arranged marriages being forced struck a cord, and she was about to speak to agree with him, when he reached out and brushed back one of her messy curls.
Amira froze.
The princess, who had not ceased moving since the moment she had met him, since the moment she had entered the camp, went completely still, her expression drawing closed like the shutters on a window, blocking out everything and keeping everything in. "My people treasured beauty, yes." She said, her voice cold and empty and odd-sounding, distant, like she wasn't fully speaking as herself, but rather withdrawing and relying on the motions and habit of speaking.
“I’m sure of that.” Came the automated response. His mouth said the words before he could think straight. The eldest princess… his was-to-be wife.
The ex-prince drew his arm back in and took a step away from her. Though raised to get what he wanted whenever he wanted, he was opposed to making someone feel uncomfortable around him. It was much harder to have a free conversation when the other was drawn into themselves. “My apologies. I did not ask before touching you.” Another bow from the male, this time he took his eyes off of her, showing a respect he hoped she could catch. To take ones eyes off of someone was to willingly submit for a moment in his book.
A low rumble sounded from Malakai, who managed to worm his way partly into the tent. Just enough to rub up against Amira's side, purring loudly. It seemed to draw her somewhat out of whatever had come over her, enough for her free hand to find the top of his head for support. "It would have been appreciated if you had." And yet, her voice still sounded off. Drawing herself back from closing herself off was hard, and she didn't have the best practice with it. The first time it had happened, she'd spent a little over a week like this.
The big cat’s presence drew his eyes back up. The ex-prince took a step back, obviously weary and afraid of the large animal. Yes he loved animals of all kinds, but tigers and him had never really connected in a safe way.
Nordali, however, was not familiar with this kind of reaction from someone after he had touched them. It unnerved him to the point he wondered if Just maybe he didn’t have all the power he thought he had. (Which, in full honesty, didn’t exist. He had no power over the living beings.)
Dropping to a crouch, Amira allowed Malakai to nuzzle the side of her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and running her fingers through his fur. "Do you have any explosive specialists in your guild?" Her voice was slowly beginning to sound more like her. It was a weird change of subject in any case, but she needed something else to focus on. And what better way to do that than to let her inability to focus on one thing take over.
“Yes. We have a few actually.” He turned his head off in a direction though he could not see past the tent’s fabrics. “Savros is the one in charge of the explosives we have. Her tent is easy to find. Just past the forge.”
Rolif noticed the affection Malakai was receiving and snorted loudly. Nordali glanced at his stag and shook his head. “Jealous buck. I’ll give you more attention after our guest has left.”
"Well, feel free to monopolize on that promise now." Amira said, directing her words towards the buck with a half smile. "I'm on my way out. I think I'll go find this Savros, have a fun chat with her. We might have a thing or two in common." She stood, staying bent over to press her forehead to Malakai's for just a moment before releasing him. "I'll see you around then, Zar." And with that she was gone, leaving behind the scent of spices and gunpowder and something vaguely floral. Malakai followed.
The vial of golden substance sat on his desk, though she hadn't gotten that close to the desk.
“Then I wish you well.” Replied the male, something in his eyes softening. “Please, feel free to visit me anytime you have questions. I am usually in here.” He bowed his head in farewell, turning to his desk as she disappeared. The vial caught his eye.
Nor gingerly lifted it to examine the substance, wondering if she had forgotten it. And when she had managed to set it down. “Strange girl she was, wasn’t she Rolif?” He moved to sit against his stag, resting his head on the animal’s back. He turned the vial in his hands, watching it glimmer in the light he had. “Imagine if I had actually married the firstborn princess, do you think I would have met Amira?”
Rolif snorted, nuzzling Nordali’s side. He laughed softly and began to pet him. “Ah, you’re right. Attention first, life choices later.”
((Amani is the fake name she gave. Do we want to skip ahead, or continue like this? I have an idea for skipping, so there's that))
(I thought so haha. And let’s go ahead and skip. What idea do you have?)
((I’m assuming, since the guild is decently close, they all probably eat around cooking fires? So like at dinner time, basically, except Amira somehow manages to get ahold of an instrument she knows how to play and is entertaining everyone))
((Oh I love that!!! And yes, they do eat around cooking fires. I like the idea! And like Nordali was originally going to skip dinner like he always does while ‘working’ (aka just brooding) but hears it and comes out cuz like, who the heccc is playing that it sounds good.))
((Yesss. Exactly. Quality right there. Do you want to start, or do you want me to? I’m going to bed really soon, so I’d have to start us off tomorrow morning, but if you’re cool with that so am I!))
(I can. And I should go to bed. It’s like midnight over here.)
Nordali lifted the bottle of strong alcohol once again to his lips as he stared at the ‘wall’ of his tent. He wasn’t drunk, no not yet, but he could feel a bit of a buzz starting up.
He didn’t feel like eating, and nearly hadn’t eaten anything that day. Sure it was unhealthy but he really didn’t think he could stomach anything. The bottle was set aside as he slid off his cot and wandered past the curtain that separated bed from desk space. A faint sound met his ears as he did so; music. And beautiful music at that.
The ex-prince wandered out of his tent, his stag in pursuit. “Who’s playing?” He asked as he took a seat around the cooking fire, eyes falling onto the one with the instrument. Amira.
Amira hadn’t gotten to play an oud in forever.
Nobody here had them, and anyone that did was so attached to it that there was no way they’d even let a stranger know they had one, let alone play it. And yet Zarya, the thief she’d struck up a conversation with, was absolutely willing to let her play it.
So here she was, sitting around a campfire with a bunch of other outcasted guild members, leaned up against a snoozing Malakai and playing an instrument that she loved. She was so engrossed that she didn’t even notice Zar, or hear him approach. Gradually, words vegan to accompany the playing, and if one payed attention they would noice the similarities between her fidgeting and the plucking of the strings. First in Kehlaian, then in the common tongue, then a myriad of others, her words floated around the campsite with the music, capturing the attention of anyone who could hear and spare time to listen.
Nor closed his eyes as the words mixed in with the music, letting the notes soothe him. It had been a long time since he had heard someone play so well. It made him miss the musicians of his kingdom. They were quite good in his opinion.
As soon as Rolif laid down, Nordali leaned against him, stroking the animal’s thick hide with a smile.
