The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part II: Allies, Foes, and Bargains
Episode Twelve (Censored)
The slave held up a darkly coloured violet dress, it was of the Arabyan style which Raveres had become visually familiar with so far in Al Daouk. She rose from her position on the bed slowly and waved the servant to bring the clothing closer.
Furrowing her brow Raveres took some of its material into her hands and let it fall through her fingers. The soft silken cloth was cool to the touch and rippled in the light like a deep pond.
"A gift from Sadalsuud no doubt." she remarked aloud.
The slave nodded slightly at the tone of the Druchii's voice. Raveres didn't know what to make of the dress at first, so she pursed her lips in thought as she stood.
"Well then, I suppose I ought to accept. Not like I can appear in the rags I came here in."
Raveres stepped past the chest and away from the bed as she held her arms out. Raising an eyebrow and cocking her head at the servant she punctuated herself and raised her voice, "Come on then!"
The slave nodded and her eyes widened in embarrassment as she came forwards with the clothing. Making an 'oh' sound the slave turned back and stooped to pick up an additional article from out of the bottom of the lined box.
The thing looked like a simple scrap of black, dyed, material rather than an actual piece of clothing but when the slave held it closer to Raveres the servant she indicated she was to take it.
"If I'm to be dressed you are the one to-"
Raveres stopped when she took hold of the material. Raveres knew what it was but she'd never seen such a type of undergarment before. It was for her lower body, but it looked almost unfinished… like the weaver had left threads uncut and hanging loosely from the end product. Upon closer inspection Raveres saw that the threads were actually an intricately hand-woven floral pattern.
It was soft to the touch and was overall strange to her. Any undergarments she had worn previously were utterly plain and utilitarian. They were for covering her sex and keeping uncomfortable chafing of her trousers to a minimum: that was it. But these?
"These are not functional in the least!"
Narrowing her eyes she looked at the slave, "What the hell am I supposed to do with these?"
The servant girl's expression paled and she hesitated, still no more fluent in Druhir then the last time Raveres spoke to her. Rolling her eyes, Raveres waved while muttering,
"Never mind…"
Lowering the underwear Raveres stepped one foot into the garment after the other and pulled it up along her skin. It was soft.
Her eyes widened slightly and she paused when it reached her thighs. 'It's impossibly soft!'
The material was cool against her flesh and when it was finally against her pelvis and the sensitive skin of her mound, she could feel the air through the garment as if she wasn't wearing anything at all. She scoffed and laughed involuntarily in disbelief before beginning to look herself over. The dark of the material made her pale flesh even lighter.
The slave stood and looked on awkwardly, averting her eyes and waiting for her guest to give her permission to approach. Raveres took a few steps around in a circle, her head bent down, watching herself walk, cooing at the softness of the material between her legs.
"It… it feels like nothing at all?"
Then she laughed and turned to look at her own backside. The muscles of her buttock were seemingly complemented by the clothing and she couldn't help but soften from her initial reaction and she admitted with a girlish smile,
"I… I actually like these."
Though she didn't allow her vanity to take hold, Raveres' smile faded as she cleared her throat. Beckoning the slave forwards and posing with her arms outstretched the Human began helping direct the muscly elvish arms into the dark material.
'I wonder what Sadalsuud means with this exceedingly generous show of hospitality.' She narrowed her eyes and continued to think, "He's almost excessive in his lavishing of gifts…'
Raveres took in a breath through her nose and tilted her head up, 'I hope he will be as forthcoming with aid in hunting that Estalian down.'
…
"My Lord?"
Sadalsuud raised an eyebrow and turned to face a eunuch attendant.
"Yes?"
"Many are waiting entrance to the court."
The round Arabyan nodded and exhaled nervously. Wick'tus stepped beside him and spoke, "The Emir-Regent shall begin receiving supplicants."
Sadalsuud was sitting on a raised chair in front of the steps of his brother's vacant throne. The chamber was already quite populated with servants, guards, and a few of the important officials of the Emirate, but the new regent was well aware that it was about to be filled with people.
Sadalsuud had made his oath, cut his finger, and Wick'tus had sealed the declaration of the regency. His brother Hashan was, naturally, not informed and had been quietly locked away in his tower and large personal chambers. His servants and closest guards were all sworn to secrecy and had vowed to keep him in both comfort and ignorance, until he showed signs of recovery.
The official story relayed to those few at the top of the small city's officials was that the Emir was seeking special treatment and asked his brother to step in.
To the rest of the court the story was that the Emir desired peace and his brother would be acting in his stead until he returned. In either case it was to be made abundantly clear; Sadalsuud was now in charge.
Quietly sensing his apprehension and anxiety Wick'tus leaned to his lord's ear and whispered; "Fear not my young lord. Just remember they fear you more than you fear them."
He nervously smiled and nodded, his great turban glinting in the torchlight before a thought came to him,
"Oh!" he exclaimed, "The Master of Tongues? Has he been sent to my guest; the Druchii?"
Wick'tus cleared his throat and looked up as the doors to the audience chamber opened. Quietly he responded, "Yes indeed my lord… I am told that they're being led to her chamber as we speak."
Sadalsuud smiled to himself and whispered, "Excellent… As I hold the court, make sure to send for my guests. I wish them to be introduced to much mystery and envy! Ha-ha!"
Wick'tus nodded and snapped his fingers at a servant who stood against the wall to their left. The tanned and handsomely dressed man dashed forwards.
Sensing mischief in Sadalsuud's mind the aged Vizier warned, "Please do not play with the courtiers too much my lord. Whatever you're intending you must remember there is serious work to be done."
The round merchant-prince nodded, "Yes, yes. But there are a few in attendance today who I must…" he stopped and bowed his head in acknowledgement as nobles and aristocrats began entering the chamber, each one was introduced loudly by the court-herald.
"… I must show up."
Wick'tus rolled his eyes and whispered the regent's command to the servant; "Send for Lord Sadalsuud's guests, see to it that they are clean and presentable to the court. Dress them in additional finery if necessary."
The servant nodded. Wick'tus hushed his words as he continued,
"His lordship wishes to dazzle and to intrigue them in equal measure. Tell them to bear their weapons, and for the Bretonnians that they may wear their colours."
The servant bowed deeply and stepped away from the throne as he made for the side alcoves of the chamber. Making sure to say it before he passed from earshot and he had to become louder Wick'tus added,
"No armour!"
The servant nodded in understanding and quickly made his way out of the chamber and past the steady stream of nobles being admitted to the high hall. The herald announced the entry of two lavishly dressed nobles with his trademark singsong voice;
"Their esteemed lordships Da'rouk Al Shabad, and Na'nouk Al Shabad."
The twin brothers smiled to Sadalsuud and bowed deeply. Wick'tus skilfully whispered through his beard, years of practise at such action made it appear like he was a ventriloquist and neither his lips nor his beard moved in the slightest as he imparted information to Sadalsuud.
"Those two are newly arrived to the city; they're making quite a name for themselves among the people… I expect them to approach you as soon as they are able with requests. Be wary my lord."
Sadalsuud did his best to mask his trepidation but he already felt weary and he hadn't even been regent for five hours let alone a full day.
'I know it will all be better when I gaze upon my Druchii.'
Sadalsuud smirked under his beard at his thought, 'my Druchii…'
He raised a brow while greeting the stream of nobles and courtiers as he wondered; 'Could I even possess her?
His mind began to race as he imagined; 'As the acting Emir anything might just be possible!' his chest became excited as he daydreamed, 'Can the slaver be enslaved? Can a man catch the darkness of smoke?'
He chuckled quietly. 'What if I actually can have her? She'd be like a cloudy diamond among my emeralds and rubies.' His private laugh escalated as his poetic mind continued, 'A white raven amidst peacocks.'
Wick'tus ever so carefully nudged Sadalsuud and he straightened in his seat, raising his hand in acknowledgement of yet another entering diplomat.
…
Mariana was unevenly swaying from side to side as the ship sailed along. She was in the captain's quarters and she stood with her eyes looking out a small porthole at the choppy and rolling waves to their starboard.
Her stomach rumbled and she felt revulsion seep through her limbs. She clutched at her abdomen and fell forwards to her knees. It wasn't seasickness which had gripped her. It was corruption.
Her flirtation with ruinous powers was beginning to tighten its grip within her flesh, and at the moment it was flexing its hold over her. Whatever part of her previous self which remained was still fighting to remain in her body, to try and persist in the mortal realm, but her insanity and sickness ridden mind was looking forwards to be rid of it.
Suffice it to say the struggle deep within her guts was the collision of these two forces. When the rolling waves of nausea and darkness subsided somewhat, she reeled and whispered to herself.
'My god, am I strong enough yet? What more must be done to sway these stupid hunks of flesh to execute my bidding?'
Above deck the captain Annio could be heard over the occasional splash of the waves; he directed his men with his characteristically confident voice and the populated surface of the ship would loudly respond in unison to his orders.
Mariana felt the pain in her twisted stomach finally melt away and she was able to take a full breath. She looked up at the ceiling of ribbed beams and wooden timbers; and she could almost hear the captain's footfalls right above her. She smirked and something called her name.
It wasn't quite a voice which spoke to her, but instead a strange inclination. A desire towards something which seemed to spell out what more she had to do.
To which replied aloud, "Then it will be done…"
Rising from her knees she looked at her right hand and smirked.
'Killing, fucking… both?' she laughed and felt her muscles pulse with supernatural eagerness.
"Tonight, I will have him… and I will finally make him do as I wish."
She whispered her thoughts aloud and felt a reassuring presence which could only be that of her dark patron god. Walking towards the captain's bed she shed her stolen Druchii dress and bore her skin as she descended into the sheets.
'The prince of pleasure…' she cackled and sighed as her body became steady and she felt invigorated.
Rolling over and wrapping herself in the bedding she closed her eyes and began humming happily.
"Estalia…" she smiled.
"I wonder who the princes and dukes are now, or will the city not have changed since I was last there?"
Images of the grand port of her youth came back to her and Mariana began visualising the streets that she could remember best, the people she had known. Not many of them were good people but a few of their number had set her on her current path and she could see the faces of those whom had introduced her to chaos, the dark powers, and unholy rites.
'To which I am forever grateful…' she rubbed a hand over her breasts and felt her heartbeat, 'Slaanesh…'
She smiled and spoke aloud, "The prince of pleasure…"
With a private laugh she began to think, "How ought the captain to serve me?" she felt her ribs through her skin and counted them as a strange habit of hers.
Her voice cooed and she playfully asked, "Would his death please you, or his murder?"
She laughed awkwardly, "Orgasm I meant to say… ha! Oh, silly m-" She stopped and sat up straight. "There it is!"
Her verbal slip and subconscious repetition must have been a sign.
She nodded and threw her head and hair back with a flick.
"There's my answer indeed."
She looked over the edge of the bed at her discarded dress and thought of the blade which was stashed within.
"Murder it is then."
…
When she was finally dressed Raveres took a moment to look herself over in the hand mirror which the slave held for her.
She turned from side to side as she examined her reflection. With a quiet shake of her head, Raveres nodded to the slave that she was done. The Human servant had carefully combed and groomed Raveres' hair, helping to braid some of it into a pony tail which sat high at the back of her head while her fringe and sides were brushed back and behind her long, elven ears.
During the hairdressing the Human servant had stared with fascination for several moments at the strangely shaped cartilage. Raveres narrowed her brow at the Human and shot a displeased look after which the woman quickly finished her work.
When her hair was in place the servant apprehensively used a washcloth to rub and clean the golden studs in the base of each of the Druchii's long ears until they shone properly. At the end of it all the slave stepped backwards bowing her head and reaching for the hand mirror indicating that she was finally finished pampering Raveres.
Looking down the Druchii raised an eyebrow inquisitively as she looked over the dark material of her new clothes. The dress clung to her body and proudly accentuated her feminine shape. Her earlier assumptions that it was going to be a loose-fitting article were soundly rebuffed.
The vee of the neckline ended a few inches below her collarbones and the dark colour of the dress helped to frame and accentuate her pale skin.
Despite the hooded riding cloak, she had worn for the majority of her time in the sun her neck and face showed signs of tanning. Her flesh from the bottom of the vee-neck to her fringe covered forehead had gradually gained some colour. Thankfully no burns.
'Yet.' she prayed.
Though not to embellish this gradation Raveres still remained the palest creature in the whole city.
However, Raveres was thankful that the neckline wasn't so deep that her cleavage would be completely on display. The thought of her showing so much skin to the men of the court, especially Sadalsuud, made her shiver with revulsion. Since these clothes were his gifts to her, she was weary of what he was possibly planning by this generosity.
As the slave moved forwards, she offered to tie a silken harness of sorts around Raveres' waist. It had short thick material sheath and the she-elf quickly recognised it as a sword belt.
"I'll take that." She spoke.
Though unable to comprehend the words the slave understood what she had meant and Raveres tied the belt herself and picked up her blade, sheathing the weapon herself gave her a great feeling of confidence.
When she was finished the servant offered Raveres a pair of simple Arabyan slippers. Raveres smiled and bared her teeth in innocent glee, "Finally!"
The slave lowered and began directing the Druchii's small feet into the black footwear and helped adjust them to fit. She was now, clean, dressed, and with shoes of her own. Smirking, Raveres walked a few paces before chuckling.
There was a rap at the door and the servant rose to open it. Instinctively Raveres brought her left hand to rest on her sword's hilt, silently cooing at the ability to do such a familiar move. The servant parted the door and the Druchii saw a curious looking Human standing in the open arch.
When he first saw Raveres he coughed and immediately shook his head nervously before stuttering in Druhir, "M-my lady… I-"
He drew a breath and straightened his back before looking back at her, "I am Yurin, court Master of Tongues."
Raveres stepped forwards as she straightened her neck and eyed the man. He became more flustered and avoided her gaze.
"L-lord Sadalsuud has instructed me; that I am not to leave your side."
She stepped towards the door and Yurin backed up. The young man was tall and thin. But his face and features almost indescribable for Raveres. She stepped through the doorway and began circling him, looking him over with interest.
His hair was dirty blonde and trimmed short. His eyes were watery blue and his complexion was light. He was no Arabyan, yet he had none of the aquiline or characteristic features of a Bretonnian. His nose was small and his face rounded, his shoulders and body were rather thin, but his face and skin exuded life.
As she inspected him predatorily the Human stared ahead and spoke nervously; "I speak t-twenty languages and d-dialects,"
He coughed as Raveres came around his back and out of his peripheral vision. "Among them I know Druhir, Asurian, Reich-spiel, in addition to many unwritten tribal languages."
Continuing with his self-appraisal he boasted, "Also I can read and write in ten languages, both living and dead."
His accent was somewhat stilted, and his voice quivered with unfamiliarity as he spoke the Druhir words. When Raveres came around in front of him she raised her brow in disbelief,
"You're far too young for such skills. I'd expect you to be a wearied old sage like that bearded vizier."
He bowed his head and hid a guilty smile, "I avow that I am recently promoted… But I've been trained and instructed since I-"
She raised her hand and silenced him, "What do you know of my people?"
His eyes met hers and his lip quivered, "Only what I've learned off traders from Ulthuan, and… the like."
"So, you know what a Druchii would do if they were made to look a fool?"
His expression froze and his mouth closed as he nodded. She leaned backwards and stretched her arms to her sides, "You are to serve me?"
He nodded furiously, "Y-yes! That is correct, 'in any and all capacity' Lord Wick'tus had said."
Raveres made a curt 'hmph' as she folded her arms.
"Well, Yurin master of tongues, why have I been gifted you now? Your presence would have been useful before my bath I assure you."
Raveres looked over her shoulder at the tanned female slave who bowed her head.
"Of course," he exclaimed, though the idea of the Druchii before him in a state such as bathing made him even more inarticulate.
"My apologies, but… I was making ready, and just earlier Lord S-Sadalsuud requests…" he swore under his breath as he restarted, flustered and uncoordinated, "I've arrived to extend my lord's request for you and your companion's presence at court, n-now."
To their side at the other end of the hall Raveres could see another servant leading Sir Jean and Jacque down the bend back to the palace's entrance. The Bretonnian knight raised his sword arm and hailed a non-verbal greeting as the two made eye contact. The squire adjusted his tabard and grinned happily to see her again.
Raveres nodded her head in acknowledgement at the Bretons she answered the servant's words, "Very well then…"
Without waiting for the flustered Human to lead her, the Druchii took a breath and strode forwards down the hall.
Yurin stepped after her, "N-now far be it from me t-to presume-"
Raveres exhaled and interrupted the young courtier again, "Yurin?"
He nodded and responded quietly, "Yes?"
"For a 'Master of Tongues' you're rather poor at elocution, let alone etiquette."
Raveres smiled and Yurin gulped noiselessly in fear, "and if you continue to stutter, Sadalsuud is going to need to find another replacement."
Raveres stopped mid-stride and Yurin nearly ran into her as she turned. With a subdued sadistic smile, she extended her arm towards him and took the edge of his chin in her thumb and forefinger.
"What has you so inarticulate?" she smiled knowingly.
"I…" he tried averting his eyes and took another noticeable gulp, she was expecting him to obfuscate, lie, or to otherwise ignore her words. Yet when he continued both his eyes and his voice hid nothing;
"I've never seen a Druchii before and I'm…" he grunted and cleared his throat, "I'm glad to be at your service."
Raveres furrowed her brow and began holding back a laugh as she let his chin go and turned back around. Stepping down the hall Yurin's face reddened as the poor servant followed after her. When they rounded the corner of the hall Raveres stopped as she saw the crowd of nobles waiting to enter into the audience chamber.
Anxiety coiled around her heart like a snake and the Druchii quailed. Thinking quickly and before any of the Humans could see her apprehension, she turned back to Yurin and leant closely towards him, her voice was filled with more urgency than she had wanted.
"I will not be made to look a fool Yurin… I am a noble daughter of Naggarond, and my father a veteran of the Witch King's armies."
The servant nodded emphatically at her voice, noticing his fearful expression Raveres forced her shoulders to relax and took a breath as she asked, "Are you a slave?"
He shook his head, "N-no my lady, I'm a freeman."
She pursed her lips, 'Low-born, but not a slave. Hmph, regardless… he shall still act as a retainer in the interim.'
"Though a lowborn freeman you may be, my family is nobility, you understand? Yes?"
He nodded and stood still.
"My house is that of the Naguii and these petty Humans shall not catch me flat footed."
She furrowed her brow as Yurin darted his eyes down the hall at the hushing crowd. What was earlier a loud chorus of chattering and laughing greetings between allies and foes alike had quieted into a mass of whispers and captive eyes. Raveres looked at the crowd and saw that past Sir Jean and Jacque each of the nobles' faces were directed at her and every pair of eyes was watching her.
The crowd was predominantly men and some stood transfixed and speechless, some even with their mouths agape at her, others whispered to their fellow's comments about her appearance. The few women in the crowd eyed her with fearful interest, speaking quickly behind their hands or their veils.
Taking a breath and straightening her back she spoke quietly to Yurin, "What can I expect about the coming moments?"
Quietly Yurin moved to her side, and about a foot behind her, positioning himself best to speak in her right ear.
"Lord Sadalsuud has been declared regent and has just announced it to the court; in addition, he has spoken highly of three personal guests of his with whom he has struck a lavish deal."
She remained cool as the whispers ahead of her continued and she slowly stepped forwards towards Sir Jean and Jacque, issuing a nod of her head as greeting to the pair of Bretons.
"Mmhmm, what else?"
"The nobles who had seen you enter the palace earlier today, as well as the servants… Uh, they've begun spinning all sorts of t-tales about a female elf which arrived with the knights."
Raveres smirked and breathlessly laughed, 'Sir Jean was right after all…'
Before she could continue recalling what else the knight had said the servant's Druhir grated on her ears, "As soon as you are formally introduced to the court, there are many who wish to set upon you."
Yurin cleared his throat quietly, "Out of curiosity, y-you're not a runaway princess, are you? I, I know you're a Druchii and not from Ulthuan but, still."
Raveres' eyes grew wide and she quickly had to stop herself from making an embarrassing expression in sight of the courtiers, unfortunately a sharp laugh of surprise escaped her lips before she gave Yurin a sidelong look,
"I would love to have left it to your imagination as to what I am, but no."
She looked back ahead and began to stare the crowd down, "I fear you've been reading too many romantic poems if you honestly think that."
Yurin averted his eyes and grunted quietly as he cleared his throat. Raveres smiled as she came alongside Sir Jean. He bowed his head at the neck in respect and she got to see the knight and squire for the first time clean and presentable: Sir Jean's hair sat brushed to one side, his stubble and thick facial hair appeared vigorous and his clothes appeared clean of the dirt and trail dust of the desert.
He wasn't wearing his pieces of armour or mail and instead had on a plain undyed leather jerkin, in the left-hand corner was his personal sigil emblazoned in close stitching. Underneath he had his simple woolen blouse; its sleeves had been rolled up to expose his scarred and bruised forearms.
His eyes and features were tightly composed and showed that he was obviously uncomfortable. Raveres took some small form of solace in the fact that like her Sir Jean wasn't all too suited to being among a court. However, she drew much more confidence that she had far more time to perfect and hone her skills than he did.
Beside the knight stood Jacque and the youth's features had been scrubbed quite clean as well. Though his hair had dried awkwardly and he had a funny cow lick which refused to follow the overall pattern of his brushing.
His eyes darted around eagerly as he experienced all the colours and different people. Surprisingly the young Bretonnian didn't seem bothered by the onlookers at all. The youth appeared to have had no change of clothes and was simply wearing his tabard emblazoned with Sir Jean's colours, though he appeared quite deflated without his mail or armour plates to bulk up his small body.
Seeing him in the billowy and roomy tabard made Raveres realise just how undernourished and thin the youth who had saved her really was. He may not have even been a hundred pounds. Her earlier sadistic entertainment at Yurin's expense was suddenly replaced with a strange feeling when she saw the squire. And this was compounded when the boy smiled up at her, meeting her eyes she felt an indescribable sense of sudden sadness.
She wanted to shake her head, to throw such an alien and intrusive feeling out of her body, but she couldn't risk such an awkward and vulgar display in front of the crowd.
So instead, she coldly looked away before stepping past Sir Jean and the boy. Her voice came out far sterner for it, "Yurin, direct me."
As she went ahead Sir Jean held his left hand to his sword hilt and followed beside the Druchii. Jacque followed suit with his master and placed his left hand on his belt as he followed behind.
The crowd ahead of them began stepping back unsolicited and created a path through which Raveres and her companions could tread.
"Well… uh, right this way my lady." Yurin declared.
Holding her breath Raveres did her best to exude confidence and pride. She thought of her family, her parents' constant lectures, and repeated to herself words of encouragement, almost like a prayer or mantra.
The noblemen around her gawked in surprise, fear, adoration, disbelief, dismay, inadequacy, and nearly every other expression she could name. And it dawned on her that in this moment she was exceedingly powerful.
Raveres allowed herself a private smile as her chest swelled, her earlier feelings of discomfiture dissolved and were replaced by mounting pride.
As she began to enter between the two sides of the parted crowd, she could hear the occasional subdued whisper.
"Yurin?"
The servant nodded and stepped closer, "Yes my lady?"
"You are now mine until I release you. Henceforth you will not hold anything back from me, do you understand?"
She kept her face forwards as she walked, maintaining an even pace. Yurin took several moments before he finally responded.
"Yes…"
"Can you hear them whispering?"
Yurin looked around at the noblemen and could discern only the occasional word.
"Somewhat my lady."
The four were now nearing the door to the audience chamber and Raveres could see through the crowd to the throne, and nearly full chamber.
"What are they saying?"
The court herald stepped forwards and Raveres was forced to stop.
Yurin whispered quickly, "They all wish to know your name… they wonder who you are, and uh, and they are amiss as to why you're accompanied by a knight, squire, and" he laughed, "armed."
Raveres smirked and rolled her shoulders as she took a deep breath. Between her breasts sat, out of sight, her amulet of Khaine. Feeling its cool steel dig into her flesh ever so slightly made her feel a soothing wave as she confirmed, 'I am armed indeed.'
The herald addressed her in Arabyan and Yurin nodded while translating,
"The herald asks your name so that it may be declared to the Sapphire Court."
Without missing a beat Raveres looked at the herald with as much malice as she could muster, seemingly insulted that she was not already known. As she spoke her words came out with such an intonation of venom that Sir Jean scoffed at the exemplary display of elvish arrogance.
"We are Raveres Morthai Naguii! Daughter of the Dreadlord Titos, sister to the Dreadlord General, Malith Naguii, we hail from the Druchii kingdom of Naggaroth."
The herald, someone whose job is dealing with haughty nobles and sycophantic supplicants, immediately felt ashamed. Her voice somehow cut through the man even though he didn't understand a word of Druhir.
As if she had woven a bewitching spell the onlookers closest to her latched on and listened intensely to every syllable she had spoken and as soon as she finished, they began whispering among each other with a renewed ferocity.
When Yurin translated the herald bowed his head somewhat and issued his apologies. Then he asked the translator Raveres a question.
"What might your title be?"
Raveres took a moment, she was well drilled and trained in the court protocol and observances of her own country, but she had no idea how to explain it. Before the moment could sour into awkwardness she smiled privately.
She was on her 'Hakseer' voyage; her father was a former officer and a Dreadlord… It would never get back to anyone, and even if it did, she'd be a real one by then…
Her smile turned into a smirk, "You may address me however 'Dreadlord' may be translated."
Yurin's eyebrow rose and he spoke to the herald nervously. The tanned and moustached man nodded. With another bow to Raveres he turned and led her into the grand, high domed, throne room.
Speaking in his language he declared her to the court; "Al'amir Alrahib Raveres, Morthai, Naguii."
He had essentially repeated everything that Yurin had told him.
She moved her elbow to jab into the Human and he whispered hastily; "The closest I could come up with to Dreadlord is… uh, Terrible Prince, I-I'm sorry my lady!"
Raveres' eyes widened, 'The Terrible Prince?' she held back her mouth from smiling, 'I hope only to be worthy of such a splendid title!'
"Excellent work Yurin… I might enjoy use of you yet."
The young man smiled nervously before furrowing his brow, 'Wait, what?'
The court was awash with whispers as Raveres and her companions stepped forwards through the threshold. Sadalsuud stood from his chair and began loudly speaking to the court, beaming a smile all the while. Yurin leaned upwards to Raveres' ear and translated as quickly as he could.
"My lord says that you and the knight have aided him already… Uh, that you are honoured guests, humble representatives of your powerful families or, or liege-lord in the knight's case,"
Raveres reached the middle of the chamber and stopped a few feet from Sadalsuud's raised seat.
"He says that you are all personal guests of his and that any poor conduct directed towards you will be answered for swiftly and justly…" Yurin paused.
Out the corner of her mouth the Druchii egged the young man on, "And? What else… don't stop now."
"He's being rather p-poetic…"
The crowd murmured and spoke several whispers. Raveres looked out the corners of her eyes as she whispered, "What. Is. He. Saying?"
Yurin cringed, as he looked away from the gesticulating Sadalsuud.
"He's talking at length about you… He's so far described the first time he saw you, though he's not saying anything explicit here he is… uh, well."
Raveres stole a quick glance at the blonde man and he cleared his throat, "He's making plain his 'interest' in you… His tone and his language are such as to dissuade others from, approaching you somewhat, or at least in a particular way…"
'Oh, Dark Mother,' she complained while rolling her eyes.
Sir Jean and Yurin assisted Raveres in observing the etiquette Arabyan court, and when Sadalsuud finally finished he allowed them to 'mingle' with the rest of the courtiers.
The volume of the room began to pick up once Raveres chose a side to walk towards and then the nobles did one of two things; they either lined up and began petitioning or showing submission to Sadalsuud, or they set upon the Druchii and her companions.
Elbowing his way to stand in front of Raveres was a tall, swarthy, muscular, and cleanly shaven man. His light sun-bleached hair flowed down the sides of his head, framing his chiseled and masculine features.
He began speaking over the others and locked eyes with the Druchii, forcibly capturing her attention. The man was dressed in white silks and yellow slippers, with a small curved golden dagger nestled into the sash-belt across his waist.
Yurin translated as Raveres raised an eyebrow and listened with interest. Beside her Sir Jean was in conversation with an equally grizzled and equally uncomfortable looking Arabyan warrior.
The two appeared kindred spirits and began sharing smiles and the occasional jest; however, Raveres noticed that the knight never lost sight of her for long. He'd pay attention to his fellow soldier as they talked, but then he'd do a quick survey of those surrounding her, before ending his ocular patrol by returning to her.
The translation of Arabyan to Druhir snapped her attention back to the man before her. Yurin's voice was plain and even toned as he conveyed the white-dressed man's words to Raveres,
"This is the Prince Balik. Former ruler of Al' Qu la… He extends his esteemed greetings to you and your house."
Raveres hid her confusion as she repeated, "Former?"
Yurin nodded and hastily provided her context, "The Prince was unjustly usurped by his sister, and she now rules his former city and lands. He's well kn-"
Raveres raised her hand and cut off the servant, "How many people here speak Druhir do you imagine?"
Yurin opened his mouth but she continued and cut him off again,
"Speak plainly, if you are to serve me then you will tell me everything I need to know, and if you lie, I will know of it. So plainly; why does a former prince stand before me thus? He speaks only as if he wants something from me."
Yurin bowed his head and bowed to Balik before telling Raveres the 'truth' at every word the Human seemed somewhat uncomfortable to be 'badmouthing' a man right in front of him;
"He's a fool, and now a pauper-prince. His sister is rich, beautiful, powerful, and she has many allies and friends. She's out-smarted him at every turn, and now he goes from city to city, persisting mainly on the charity of others... Her decree is such that no one may harm him, but none may help him either."
Raveres furrowed her brow in confusion, "Is this some kind of perverse mercy?"
Yurin steeled himself from showing any sense of humour to Prince Balik or to the other onlookers, "No, it is shame."
"Ah… Well."
Turning back to the prince she smiled and bowed her head slightly.
"Tell him we thank him for his words. I lament hearing of his tribulations, but should he wish; I could always make use of him back in Naggaroth, of course this is only should he desire."
Yurin knew what she really meant but he kept it's implication to himself and dutifully relayed the information to the Prince.
Balik beamed a smile and bowed reverently as he stepped back from Raveres, turning away he triumphantly raised a fist into the air as he returned to a few of his loyal retainers.
'He must think I've given him my legitimate support…' Raveres hid her smile.
A few onlookers, Sir Jean, Yurin, and maybe only the most learned in earshot were aware of Druchii and their customs, and knew the horrifying implication of what she had actually offered Balik. Sir Jean pursed his lips in disapproval at the foul joke but said nothing.
The next few who had the courage to approach Raveres did so with barely contained awe. Nobles and rich merchants alike attempted to flatter and to soothe her. Occasionally she'd make a joke of wit at one's expense and Yurin did an exceptional job at translating.
Raveres had succeeded in charming those around her; they laughed at her jests, and continued to hang on every word, barraging her with questions and praise. Raveres occasionally looked to Sir Jean and he nodded knowingly, his expression seemed to say; 'I told you so.'
At first, she was nervous to be surrounded by Humans, even though they were her kind of people; nobles and aristocratic oligarchs. But now she had hit her stride.
All the lectures about the family name, of her pride as a Druchii. What she was expected to do as a noblewoman, her mother's suggestions, her father's commands… all of it culminated in her newfound attitude. She was in her element.
Just as surely as she was getting used to the din of arms and the field of battle, the egos and the interactions of 'high society' was as strangely familiar to her as if it were the halls of her home, or the lines of her bed.
Sadalsuud occasionally looked over at her, an eager smile across his features. Though they were Human Raveres enjoyed every moment of attention she was receiving, and she smiled.
…
Annio narrowed his vision as he stood on the quarterdeck of his ship.
"There lads! I see a fair spot!"
Most of the rigging was pulled in and the men weighed anchor as the ship slowed amidst several shoals and small islands.
The islands were once part of a larger chain which either the waves, or the roaring of an ancient volcano had swept back under the water. In the last years Annio and the crew of his ship had been using the largest of the islands as a place to stow the lion's share of their hoarded treasure. It was well protected from the elements and the waves within a small cave which the pirates had hollowed out for their uses.
Looking skyward Annio saw that the sun was setting and he raised an eyebrow. Turning to his Sigmar-worshipping first mate he nodded.
"The talents, ingots and such. Make sure the chests are well spaced and load as many as possible."
The mate nodded, "And the weather?"
Annio looked at the waves and grumbled, "Wait a short spell only, if it doesn't calm press onwards as carefully as possible. I want to finish with all this business and be back to raiding as soon as we are able."
The mate nodded as the captain stepped towards the stairs to the lower deck.
Looking to the men the mate began, "Alright set to it men! Make the longboats ready we're putting to our hoard!"
The men cheered and threw their fists in the air triumphantly.
…
Mariana waited and waited, biding her time with fantasies about her plan for Annio. She'd plied her charms on several key men aboard the ship and felt certain she'd be able to fuck, talk, and or stab her way out of whatever was to come.
Besides, the journey back to Estalia could only take a day more at most.
The fact that they had weighed anchor hadn't yet dawned on her, and the former slave had fallen prey to her hubris, and carelessness…
Annio paused outside his cabin door. He held his left hand on his hip, and made sure his dagger was in easy gripping distance as he opened his door. His eyes scanned the room and Mariana sat up from the bed. She had a smile across her face and her breasts exposed as her hair messily fell around them framing them in the dim lighting of the room.
The top of her hair was curled and sat unevenly, presumably from her tumbling in the sheets.
"Oh, my captain!" she cooed.
He smiled and somewhat relaxed as he entered the room.
"Aye my lady… how are you so far?"
She pouted and rubbed her arm, "I long to be returned to my home."
He nodded, "I know, I know. Yet fear not, we shall be there just as soon as the tide returns."
She furrowed her brow and looked towards the porthole, "It seems like the weather is picking up, good that we left dock when we did, huh?"
He stepped into the room and carefully closed the door. Searching for her dress and also making sure that his various swords were still all where he had left them.
"Mhmm, yes…" he answered absently.
She adjusted how she sat and rose to display her nude body in the candlelight. The sheets fell from her skin and Annio held his breath as he looked at her.
"It's rather cold in here alone captain…" she not-so-subtly stated.
Annio quietly scoffed and loosened his grip on his belt while stepping closer, "Truly"
She lay backwards slowly, resting her head against the cabin's wall while sitting on the pillows. She drew her legs out from under the sheets and coyly parted them to give the man a better view of her lips. He tilted his head upwards as he began to take stock of the room and his 'passenger'.
"Let us not stand on pretention here… Speak plainly."
Mariana let out a dry breath and blinked in disappointment. "Well… I thought it would be obvious? I want you to bed me."
Annio waved his right hand and stepped to the left side of the room, farther from the bed and towards a chair and table he had to the corner.
"Aye, aye… No, I mean you."
Mariana furrowed her brow and immediately played dumb, "I don't kno-"
Annio cut her off with a grave shot from his eyes. He reached for a small bread knife which sat on a wooden plate on the table and held it quizzically.
"What did you hope to achieve here?"
Mariana huffed in disappointment and closed her legs.
"Really I don't think this is the time for such an interrogation…"
Annio let go of the knife and stepped forwards. The Slaaneshi worshipper raised an eyebrow and reactively moved backwards on the bed.
"Perhaps I should ask you in a different way?"
With his hands up Annio lunged onto the bed and cupped her head as he forced a kiss to her lips. At first Mariana tried falling backwards to avoid him, but she then changed strategy and latched onto the captain, attempting to tear his shirt off.
Annio's mind raced as he began running his hands along the edge of her torso, cupping her breasts occasionally as he kissed her lips and made sure to move his head in such a way as to obscure her vision and force her to keep her eyes closed. She cooed and moaned through the kissing and eventually they had to part lips so she could pull the blouse off his muscled chest.
Pre-empting her Annio unclipped his dagger from his belt and threw it across the room, far from her reach… She seemed not to take any greater significance of the action and began eagerly and lustily helping bring the captain's trousers down from his waist.
When it was free past his knees, she let out a groan of satisfaction and reached for his slightly erect member.
"Ah ta-ta, mouth only." He warned.
Mariana raised a brow and playfully complied as she repositioned herself on the bed. With her hands behind her back, the captain took a deep breath and began inspecting the area around the bed.
'Weapons… daggers… has she hidden anything?' His breath went up sharply and he held in a moan as she began licking and sucking him into her mouth.
With a careful and quick movement Annio used his discarded shirt at Mariana's side to wrap around her arms and bind them together.
The way he had stretched over top of her, and the way that she had extended forwards, made it so that she couldn't back herself off of his cock and she struggled under him, mumbling words of surprise as she tried to force the captain's erect penis past her lips.
When he had knotted the shirt tightly and believed her arms to be securely taken out of the equation he leaned backwards and allowed her a moment of reprieve.
Coughing and sputtering as the spit coated cock left her mouth Mariana involuntarily drooled as she swore, "What the fuck?!"
She coughed and looked up, "If you wanted to bind me you could have said so!"
Annio smiled falsely, "That would have ruined the surprise…"
Mariana spat onto the floor and narrowed her eyes and grumbled. The captain ignored her protest and continued, focused on his plan,
"Can you raise your bottom into the air?"
Mariana nodded but her face remained irritated.
"Good," he chuckled, "I promise when I am done down there you will forgive me."
…
XXX
(If you'd like to read this sexually explicit scene, and the chapter in its original uncensored format, please check it out on Archive of Our Own.)
(I have done my best to censor this scene while also retaining the key narrative aspects, however it may read as a little out of sorts.)
XXX
At that moment the Estalian captain saw the last thing he needed to commit fully to his plan.
Mariana's movements had caused her previously hidden dagger to come out from under the pillows just enough that he could see it. He pursed his lips and stopped moving briefly as he hesitated. He didn't want to believe it, but he threw his conscience to the side and steeled his resolve.
With his left arm he wrapped it around her neck and brought her so that her back was now pressed against his chest. Letting go of her hair from his right hand he began holding his right arm underneath her breasts, pressing just enough to constrict her ribs and diaphragm.
Her arms were pressed uncomfortably between their bodies and she began pulling and fighting the material as hard as she could; she knew something was wrong. He repositioned his left arm and began pressing it tightly against her throat.
Leaning his head beside hers he whispered into her ear; "I know what you had planned for me, and I know what you are…"
At first Mariana could only listen to the words in confusion, but then his arm pressed down as hard as he could and she quickly began choking.
"I figured you dabbled in magic of some kind! But…"
He shook his head, "I never foresaw you to be a true chaos worshipper!"
She pulled against the shirt as hard as she could as she dryly coughed and struggled for air.
Annio tensed his chest as he put all his strength into his arm. He squeezed his body against hers and they fell forwards into the bed. Her arms were pinned and she coughed as her eyes tensed and she tried rolling and kicking. The captain held on as much as he could and grit his teeth as he tightened his grip just a bit more.
'Fuck, fuck fuck!' Mariana's mind was awash with profanity and all sorts of madness as she continued to buck and try to dislodge Annio from his death-grip.
'Prince of p-pleasure?!' she called futilely, 'what… a p-pleasurable d-deat-th!'
She fought the sadistic and evil desire within her to give in and instead doubled her efforts to escape her bondage, 'No! I must kill him!'
She gave all her strength to one more roll and unfortunately for Mariana Annio easily used her own momentum to aid in tightening his grip.
Spinning so that he was now under and Mariana was on top she stuck her tongue out as drool began leaking from the side of her mouth and her eyes rolled back. Her arms and nails dug uselessly into his abdomen but the shirt finally gave way. Her legs kicked and began tangling themselves in the bedding as her body arched. Her muscles strained and she was losing air quickly, but she was able to get her arms free.
Annio couldn't let go of her throat so he was only able to take hold of her right arm at the wrist. Her left hand began reaching towards the pillows beside them and for the protruding hilt of the dagger from her dress.
Annio loudly cried, "You were the one who killed Julio! You've been consorting with all kinds of foulness to take my men!"
He cried as he pulled backwards on his arm, "You reeked of Slaanesh the first time I laid eyes on you!" he shook his head, "But I didn't want to believe it… I should never have taken you aboard!"
Mariana let out a wet cough and took hold of the dagger as she bucked and attempted to aim her weakening arm at her assailant. Before she could even make a single strike, she began convulsing as she experienced one final, insanity-induced, orgasm. The knife slipped from her poor grip and her arm dropped as she twitched, but Annio's vice-like arms did not slacken.
Little did she know that the whole experience she was going through was a gift from Slaanesh himself; what her mind was being subjected to was the envy of even his most devoted acolytes… It only took a 'passion filled death' to receive it.
Twitching and shivering as she noiselessly expired, Mariana became limp on top of Annio and he finally let go of her right wrist. Huffing and sweating profusely Annio pressed his right hand into Mariana's left breast and felt for her heart-beat.
After several seconds of silence, he finally let go of his grip on her throat and, like a rag-doll, she fell off him and to the side. Panting and coughing he brought his arm from out underneath her and pushed her away from him.
He groaned and let out a pained cry, "You evil witch!"
His chest felt sick with revulsion and he couldn't believe what he had just done. He leant over the side of his bed and spat a small retch of bile.
Shivering from his nerves Annio stood up from the bed and shook his head again before reaching for her previously concealed dagger. The hilt was carved into with several sigils and markings.
Through his tear-filled eyes he recognised a few, and he knew that it had been made into an object of chaos. He shook with fear and stepped towards the window, with a carefully placed shot he threw the blade into the sea.
Gathering his wits and his breath he wiped his face and steeled himself before turning around. Hesitantly he stole a look at Mariana's face. Her expression was startling; her tongue was sticking out and her eyes were frozen, looking upwards, yet she was also somehow smiling…
He furrowed his brow and shook in disbelief, "Th…the crazy bitch… s-she… she was enjoying it?"
He panted and looked away with a shudder before collapsing to the floor of his cabin, naked and shivering, sputtering to himself in disbelief. Eventually he heard his name,
"Annio…"
He looked up. Mariana remained motionless. Yet… he had heard her voice…
It laughed and asked again, "Annio?"
He let out a terror filled scream and quickly scrambled to his feet. The body still did not move and as he angled to see her macabre expression again the voice spoke.
"Did you think you'd be rid of me so easily?"
Her face was still frozen and the spit on her lips glistened in the flickering candlelight. The voice had come from within his head. He gripped either side of his skull and began yelling. Her lips were beginning to turn blue and her bruised and crushed throat began taking on a variety of colours as her skin became pale. He turned to where he had thrown his own dagger and searched for it along the floor hastily.
Once he had hold of the weapon he turned and looked at her again. This time the body had moved; just a shudder, but it had been enough to make her flesh and breast jiggle.
'She was dead…' he thought, his eyes wide with fear. His mind began racing and he shivered madly.
"She is dead." He whispered, correcting himself.
The voice within his skull had increased in volume and made him trip as he moved towards the door.
"Annio. I asked you…"
The voice laughed and Mariana's bluing corpse slowly began to rise.
"Did you think you could get rid of me so easily?"
…