Eyes of the Crown (Part 1)

Posted on Sat Nov 15th, 2014 @ 6:21am by Thane & Egon Jotunnson II & Ravenna Jotunnson
Edited on on Thu May 31st, 2018 @ 1:16am

3,170 words; about a 16 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: The Zkavasenna, Zkovos Isle, Dromache
Timeline: After "The Arrival of the Birds", Noon

OLD


The Grandsire sighed, making a note to inform his wife of her netting’s flaw, before turning to the guard, blue eyes like steel.

“I am ready for Senator Vuul. Send him and his escort in.”

Some men were strong and fierce, like the eagles. And some men were magpies or crows, underhanded and sneaky, taking from those they had no right to take from. Whether Egon liked it our not, Spring was now here...and birds of all virtue were flocking to the nests of the powerful. Some came in peace, while others came with hunger in their eyes.

In the privacy of his mind, Egon considered what kind of man Senator Haavan Vuul would turn out to be. Birds of all shapes were never trustworthy in Spring.


NEW


Cinching the belt of solid gold around her waist, Ravenna smoothed the black silk at her hips and inspected herself in the mirror. Black was such a dreadfully grim color, especially now that the flowers were blooming and color was returning to Dromache after two long, cold years of Winter. But diplomacy overruled personal preference according to her Father. Green and orange saris would just have to wait.

Slipping a ring around her slender finger, a sizable emerald of poison green set within it, Princess Ravenna picked a fine, gold headpiece from her choices and clipped it place behind the bun of her black hair. The delicate flowers hammered from gold upon the headpiece cradling the back of her head and came to rest just above the tips of her ears, like a reverse tiara, or perhaps like the laurel wreaths of ancient times. Ravenna thoughts were far away as she flicked a delicate gold petal at her temple with a lacquered fingernail, watching as the pearl "stamen" of the blossom rattled.

“Your Serene Highness!” admonished one of the elder ladies who waited on her. The abuse of such finery earned the Princess a look of supreme disapproval from familiar brown eyes. The black sleeves of her dress brushed Ravenna’s cheek like a kiss as she hastened to inspect if any damage was done to the delicate gold headpiece.

Ravenna only smiled her sly smile—the one that wrinkled her nose ever so slightly that was both endearing and utterly infuriating to those who knew her.

“Come now, Beina.” She sing-songed, a light in her vivid blue eyes, “I had to make sure my flowers of gold were nice and stiff. It wouldn’t do for them to suddenly wilt when faced with the overpoweringly dusty aura of yet another old man I must meet and bring to my father.” the Princess said seriously, arching a brow.

“Oh,”the old woman groused at her Princess, fussing with an emerald earring, “you had better not let Senator Vuul hear you talk about him like that. Or your father for that matter.”

“Ha!” Ravenna laughed, the pretty bow of her mouth curved knowingly, impudence in the lilt of her voice, “Father is much too busy growing old to worry about me. Or too busy trying to catch that malicious woman, Le’Shaad.”

A wind from the bedroom balcony drifted in from the outside, catching the lightweight silk curtains and casting them to flutter in its wake. Almond shaped eyes tracked their movement, the vivid oranges, reds and yellows of the curtains quite stark against the blue of the noon sky. Behind her, she could hear the drapes of her canopy bed brush against each other like whispers at court, the little silver bell she hung on the bottom left post tinkling in the breeze—like the sound of a glass bead dropping into a tin cup after a purchase at the Bazaar, bright and small.

“It’s so lovely outside today.” She said quietly, unfocused, just to fill the silence.

Beina brushed a silver strand of hair behind her own ear as she squeezed the Princess’ shoulder with soft affection, her smile fond and perhaps a little wistful.

“Come now, Raven. Senator Vuul awaits your escort.”

Coming back to herself, Ravenna looked to her lady-in-waiting and nodded, her bare feet padding across the designs of the stone floor as she left her suite of rooms and exited her wing of the palace. A gold ring on her toe was the only thing that clicked softly as she glided across the floor to the Wing of Hospitality. All around her, rows of grand windows that spanned the height of the towering walls allowed sun and air to pass through, stray leaves sliding across the floor with the breeze as song birds flew into the palace and out again.

As she walked, Ravenna watched as tittering ladies with bare shoulders and thin silk saris crowded about in their own cushioned corners, gossiping about the newest fashions or the newest foreigners the Dromache’s Athenaeum drew from off-world—all while the young men of the Court watched from afar. Sunlight reflected from their stone and metal jewelry as they gestured excitedly to themselves, datapads in hand.

The sound of running water was never far within the white stones spires and domes of the Zkavasenna—the palace, whether it be in little fountains within the courtyards and halls, or the tranquil pools and rivers within the Gardens of her mother.

Ravenna picked at her nail as she mused to herself. She never seemed to miss the sound of gentle falling water until all waters froze during the icy grips of Winter throughout the land. Now that it was back, the Princess found herself comforted. House Jotunnson was supposedly said to always favor the cold weather as their ancestors did—but truth be told, Ravenna had always craved warmth over the chill.

Turning a corner, Ravenna wondered if that made her less of a Jotunnson.

Stopping just before the large doors of Senator Vuul’s temporary suite, Ravenna rolled her neck to hear it crack and looked pointedly at the guards stationed outside.

Snapping to attention, the guard swung the heavy doors open and announced her presence in no uncertain terms. Ready or not, Ravenna stepped into the room. No door was barred to the Princess.

“Her Serene Highness, the Princess Ravenna Jotunnson.”

Clasping her small hands at her front, Ravenna’s blue eyes coolly swept over the room with practiced disinterest, filing away details, before coming to rest on Senator Vuul’s backside.

Her rosy lips pulled into a pleasant smile as Ravenna blinked slowly at the man from Caanus.

“Senator Vuul.” She said in greeting.

As soon as the sounds of the newcomer's arrival reached his ears, the sound of a book closing suddenly could be heard as Vuul expertly spun on his heel to turn and face her. The motion caused the vents of his finely tailored black-and-grey outfit to flick slightly, the urgency of his otherwise practised movement suggesting he may be attempting to conceal whatever it was he had been studying. Of course, this was entirely offset by the wide artificial smile that had immediately sprinted across his narrow and gaunt features, pale blue eyes hidden within the hollows of his sunken eye sockets.

A man in his middle-ages, Haavan Vuul's oily-black hair - stark against the indicative Caanan pale skin - dripped clumsily across one side of his head, with some strands just hanging over his right eye with little care. The rest of him, however, was carefully trimmed - not that it did his appearance any favours. Clinging to his body, Vuul's fine attire did little to conceal his light frame and shorter stature, and his eyes would sing a different song to that which his mouth vocalised, anyone with any political acumen could tell.

Making a show of it, Vuul took a low and humbling, his hair tumbling forwards as he did so. "Princess Ravenna," he greeted in a courtly and sycophantic tone, "it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Tales of your beauty have not been exaggerated, clearly." Rising once again, the smile he naturally believed charming framed the rest of his face in an even more sinister light as he spoke, his thin nose not unlike that of a bird's beak.

Jotunn blue eyes danced with mirth as she endured the bending and scraping of Caanus’ senator. Pale of pallor and thin, his gaunt appearance lent the man a lean and hungry look—almost sickly to the eye of a Dromachean. Fair skin was not common on the planet, many of the Humans evolving a warmer pigmentation of the skin to deal with the sun of Dromache’s hot Summer years—and for the UV reflective snows in Winter.

Looking at Haavan Vuul was like looking at a hungry corpse, unwashed before being put to the fires of the pyre. The Princess’s lashes fluttered with every discerning flick of her eye down his attire and his posture.

With a light shake of her dark head of hair, Ravenna’s voice was almost wilting in its disapproval.

“Oh, this won’t do.” She said into the space between the senator and herself, eyes bright with girlish reproach, but not unkind. Glancing back at the guard near the door, she shared a knowing look with him before drawing her gaze back to the dull, pale eyes of Senator Vuul’s face, “This won’t do at all, I’m afraid.”

If all the Senator had were flowery words and empty pleasantries…Father was going to eat him alive. Because while her father often sent her, the Princess, to escort political guests as a sign of respect and goodwill, there was also a underlying purpose to her presence. The austere House Jotunnson did not tolerate those who did not come to speak their piece without fear, without hiding behind flattery and pandering gestures. It was an unspoken expectation of her that she...prepare the guests for her Father's brand of politics. And if they could not handle the Princess' forthright rejection of their prepared speeches and their excessive manners? Well then, there was little chance they could hope to handle the Grandsire himself.

With his head cocking ever so slightly at Ravenna's words, the senator falsified smile did not scamper away but instead morphed into something of a half-smile, looking rather like an elder amused by a young individual's brash comments. Of course, that was undoubtedly how Vuul would view the situation.

"And what may it be, Your Serene Highness," he began, his tones punctuated with the blithe sycophancy that was obviously his norm, "that will not do?"

Stepping closer to the man, the Princess’ expression changed ever so slightly as she kept his gaze, edging into a seriousness that was seldom found in girls her age. Then again, most girls were not the daughters of kings. Most girls did not inherit the steel of their fathers.

“Before my father is a Jotunn, before he is a man, before he is Scholar and Grandsire to this world—my father is a warrior.” The Princess stated quietly, her delicate hand gesturing in the air, “As a warrior, he appreciates the forthright… and the honest. He may be a politician, but every meeting and every assemblage is battle to him.”

Eyes sharp and clever, Ravenna glanced at the book in the Senator’s hand and back up to his aging face, “My father meets an equal on the field or he meets no one. A man of few words but one of action and substance is a man my father will favor. My advice to you is to do House Jotunnson the courtesy,” And with a playful quirk of a brow, the Princess’ lips tilted upwards, “of dispensing with the courtesy.”

Flashing a pearly white smile that put the charm of Haavan Vuul’s farce of a grin to shame, Ravenna Jotunnson inclined her head ever so demurely, and reached out to loop her arm with the Senator’s.

“As I said, my Father is a warrior. His opponent will bring his finest and sharpest weapon to battle him with, and strike true to the quick of the matter—or my Father will smite him down first. Such is his way. Now if you’re ready, my Lord Vuul, the Grandsire is waiting for our arrival.”

With his bony arm held closely within the loop of Ravenna's, Senator Vuul used his free hand to carefully place his tome back upon the table where he had been studying it, letting it rest in such a manner that its title was obscured from his companion's view. That done, the enthusiasm returned to senator's body, his arm tightening slightly, betraying an increased strength - or perhaps a peculiar physical determination - in his light frame.

"Then, knowing myself how such warrior-kings may react to these discourtesies, we should hasten so that I may finally make his acquaintance," the Caanan replied, allowing the princess to lead him towards and out of the doors of his current accommodation. Stepping out from the room, Vuul visibly winced for just a moment, letting his eyes adjust from the darker setting he had requested for his temporary sanctum to the bright sky of the Dromachean day.

Silence had settled for a few short seconds before he once again spoke. "Your world is a lush and beautiful one, Princess Ravenna," he purred softly, their pace slow yet comfortable as a slight hint of life entered his blue eyes, which seemed all the paler for the daylight that now engulfed them, the irises at the centre having shrunk to little more than pinpoints.

The avian quality of Vuul had seemingly slipped into one more akin to a serpent, now basking in the rays of this world's sun.

"Whilst I do not doubt that is something you hear with frequency, I must say that even the vibrant planets my senatorial obligations and political machinations take me to do not always prepare me for worlds such as yours," he went on, managing to tug in a manner that brought the pair towards one of the large windows they were passing, the Caanan seeming to drink the sights beyond. His voice had adopted a more meaningful tone, lacking the veiled barbs that were clearly his norm. "Just as the blue skies of your world - as common as that feature may be on other worlds - is such a bizarre and alien sight for my weathered eyes, so used to the violet hues of my motherworld's heavens, so too can be the personalities of your people."

Vuul took his arm away from Ravenna's delicately, placing his palms flat upon the surface of the window's perimeter to allow his spindly fingers a chance to stretch and feel about the material of the building. His large nose shifted as scents climbed their way upwards.

"Of course," he then continued, though now his voice had begun to slip back into its previous format, "this was not always the case; as I said, I know well the tastes of proud warriors, for there was a time when I was steward to one such as your father. My role was simpler then, and the dominion I served was in turn served by a dutiful figure, powerful and straightforward in his own way. I have since been spoiled by the ways of the Republic Senate and its members, as well as the apathy and sleepiness of mine own people."

Turning back to face Ravenna, his features following suit with his tones in shifting to patterns similar to that from before, Vuul said, "Alas, this is simply how it must now be; the sands of time wear away at the proud and honest, and the soil grows thick with weeds. I now serve as de facto regent of Caanus and it having been a long time since words of real meaning have held any wait, either at home or abroad." Vuul clasped the princess' hand then in his own, cold and clammy yet delicate in their own way. "But I nevertheless appreciate your words of wisdom in approaching His Imperial Majesty. For the sake of my world's future, it is important my appeals to your father do not go unheeded, and," he continued, the faux smile creeping back for an encore, "any advice that makes that should be accepted with warm gratitude."

An uncomfortable feeling prickled at the princess' spine as she openly stared at Vuul, eye brow creeping towards her hairline. Stepping closer to the older man and into the fuller sunlight, the same sun that seemed to bleach the Caanan senator of color made her own eyes all the more startling in their vibrant blue. With a charming tilt of her head, her voice was low and almost conspiratorial.

"Then if you will allow, Senator, one more piece of advice?" she smiled as her eyes flicked to the glorious blue of the sky and the lush green of the gardens outside the window they stood before, "Many dignitaries and nobles who come to our home on Dromache see only the beauty of life and prosperity of our warm Summers. They glance at the glittering waters of our oceans, and the wealth and culture of our cities, and see only the generosity that our world could offer them."

Guiding the the Caanan senator away from the window and toward the Skularii Hall where her father awaited, Princess Ravenna met eyes with Haavan Vuul and saw the same greed in them that she saw in all nobility venturing here for the Grandsire's audience.

"You would do well to remember that just as quickly as our planet warms and bears fruits for all to share from, she also freezes into a barren wasteland of ice almost instantly as our atmosphere thins with the cycles of the Genesis Shield." And with a small chuckle the pair stopped before the massive golden doors of the Skularii Hall. It spoke to the Grandsire's own skill and arrogance that there were no guards posted outside.

"My father is more like Dromache that many realize."

With delicate grace, Ravenna reached forward and pushed open the heavy doors that towered over thrice her height, without visible strain. For as small and near-Human the princess looked, she too had the Jotunn blood of her father, and the physical strength that engendered. Swinging open, the golden doors of the Skularii glittered in the sunlight that swept through the many openings of the Hall. As the doors opened inward, a breeze escaped to meet them, sweeping past the folds of their robes and their hair.

Smiling wider than the Senator had ever seen her smile, the Princess Ravenna took the first step into the Skularii Hall and turned to look over her shoulder at him, her black silks rustling like courtly whispers with her light steps. He could swear she was almost skipping.

"Now if you are ready, the Grandsire awaits."

TBC

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