Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC Ianthe and any alterations to the storyline plot her presence provides to various readers amusement everywhere across the vast globe.
The Heroic Legend Of Ianthe Chapter 9
Pars Era, Year 320:
Resolute and unyielding in her decision to assist the captured Lusitanian soldiers in their escape from slavery Ianthe was fully prepared to deal with the consequences afterwards.
Only they never came.
Neither Lord Vahirz nor Daryun had spoken a word about what happened that night. Ianthe fully expected to be reprimanded by her father, but King Andragoras never sent for her when it was discovered she'd committed a cream by releasing them. There became quite an uproar when people in the slave market noticed the pens were empty. It had made her pretty nervous until Ianthe had questioned them about it and turns out they'd done their best to keep it on the down low. After some coaxing on her part Lord Vahirz even admitted that he'd gotten a couple of the guardsmen drunk on some imported wine so they wouldn't have a second thought about what went on that night. They didn't even notice her and Daryun come in and out. Both men had taken such a big risk for helping her and for that she was forever grateful.
Not letting what they did for her go to waste Ianthe threw herself into her royal lessons and duties. She commits herself so devotedly to making Pars even better than it was yesterday and the future years to come. As future Queen of Pars it is her solemn destiny to humbly serve her country, play the part she's been assigned. She guides the hopes of her people. The weak, mighty, rich, and poor.
Who could ever ask for more?
Equipping herself with patience, fortitude, and resignation Ianthe never could nor would she ever want to.
Well they are some thing she'd love to avoid.
An inexplicable torture that no one in any kingdom should be victimized to for even a minute of their time.
Sitting down for hours undergoing a portrait for one as she is currently doing right now.
Ianthe is harnessing every once of patience and skill she's ever gained in this terrible etiquette classes she's gone through to sit there perfectly on her throne beside that of her father and mothers so the painter can do his job.
Ianthe is wearing a sleeveless floor length gown consisting of sheer see through violet silk with light gray fabric material underneath at the breast at waist. The gown has a low neck showing a flattering yet very appropriate and suitable amount of cleavage underneath with floral and vine patterns stitched quite magnificently into the bodice and waistline. Ianthe wears two gold bracelets on his wrists that are almost covered by the shawl she has wrapped around her arms that has symbolic patterns representing Pars. Instead of a circlet Ianthe has on her head the official crown the Crown Princess is supposed to wear representing her official status as royalty in this great house.
Ianthe easily comprehends that this is all about duty and just like many of her ancestors have done they have their own royal portraits hanging on the palace walls. So Ianthe has to grit her teeth and bear with it.
Things would've been so much better if she'd been aloud to talk during the proceedings, but much to her dismay, Ianthe is banned from talking least of all to the artist commissioned to do the portrait. Her father had forbidden it and some guards stationed to keep an eye on them in order to make sure the command wasn't disobeyed. The contempt and disgust King Andragoras showed this without actually naming the man completely baffled Ianthe. It makes no sense that he'd treat a common painter this way especially if he already has a strong reputation amongst other noble houses, but wisely holds her tongue because even questioning him would get her into serious trouble.
So the craftsman's identity remains elusive to her ears. She hasn't recognized from anywhere and with his appearance, trust me, she would've remembered if she had.
The painter is quite handsome, traits and well defined features making that undeniable. He has long light blonde hair that reaches past his shoulders and has purple narrow eyes. Judging by what she can see with the naked eye this painter is in the exact same age group as Daryun. Despite the loose clothing that is deceptive he has a similar stature to Daryun's as well with the exception of being somewhat leaner in certain places.
This painter is a mystery to Ianthe. One that she relatively finds intriguing to an extent.
Finally, at long last, the work was done after days of endurance on both of their parts.
The painting is quite large so Ianthe had to rise to face the front instead of him turning it around so she can glimpse what's there.
Ianthe is stunned with the results, but in a good way. This painter's work definitely does her justice without a doubt. Ianthe has to remind herself that really is her in the picture. Sometimes Ianthe forgets how truly lovely she is this day and age. Where before three years ago she was called radiant now she has surpassed mere beauty.
Ianthe's body has changed greatly in the years. Ianthe has long ago learned to master her long limbs, to move with grace that successful swordsmanship and numerous other weapons training demanded. She has gained far more new curves and softness that makes scores of men stop to do more than merely glance at her whenever she walks by.
"Does my gift please you, Princess Ianthe," inquires the painter.
Ianthe holds out a placating hand towards the guardsmen as they went to severely reprimand the painter for even going against orders and talking to her.
Nodding in thanks for his work, removing a ring from her finger and passing it off to him, Ianthe said "Well done. Please accept this as a further token of appreciation mixed with the other payment you will receive for this."
Ianthe can afford to be generous. She has ownership over plenty more.
The painter smiles charmingly at her appreciation.
Ianthe then heads off with her guardsmen and handmaidens following behind at an ever faithful distance. As she walks Ianthe muses over what she saw staring back at her in the painting.
What Ianthe saw staring back at her from the canvas isn't a warrior princess as she's tried to prove to every who has ever crossed paths with her. No, what she saw there was a young woman who would strive for proficient in etiquette, poise, humility, and striving for only one thing. To be viable for a strategic marriage to benefit Pars.
That's a more than enough for most princess in the world to live for.
But not Ianthe, never her.
There's far more to her than just those qualities alone.
Ianthe stops to sit at the edge of a fountain peering down despondently disconsolate into the sparkling water at her reflection.
.
Yes, the pretty face
Yes, the sunny smile
Yes, each hair in place
And yes, she can beguile
Proper and polite
Never makes a wave
Born just to delight
And bred to behave
But she is more than this
There's a mind in the body
Of this pretty miss
She is more than this
So much more
So much more
She is more than this
Outwardly she's free
Inwardly she's bound
Given half the chance
She might prove profound
Has a thought or two
Different from the rest
Has a point of view
Which must be expressed
Yes, she is more than this
There's a mind in the body
Of this pretty miss
She is more than this
So much more
So much more
She is more than this
.
Ianthe can't afford to stand around brooding over an opposite life path that she knows will never be or how she wants all in Pars and the world to view her.
Lord Vahirz is waiting for her. Ianthe must get ready for her daily sword lessons.
Far more comfortable in her normal tunic and breeches Ianthe joins Lord Vahirz in their usual spot where no one will disturb them unless unduly necessary.
Under his tutelage Ianthe has become an expert swordsman second to very few. Lord Vahirz can contest to that his prized pupil has excelled exponentially. He speaks of her with great pride and perhaps some boastfulness whenever the subject is brought up, but no matter how hard Ianthe fights she still lacks the combat skills to soundly defeat him.
Even now their spar ends in a draw.
Sheathing her blade, Ianthe sighed "A draw again. Maybe this is as good as I'm ever going to get."
Disagreeing wholeheartedly, Lord Vahirz said "You judge yourself too harshly, Highness. Your sword work has definitely improved. You mustn't be discouraged."
"So you always tell me, but frankly I'm beginning to wonder if that truly is the case," said Ianthe, scowling lightly. "I suppose battle is the only real test, though."
Chuckling confidently, stroking his beard, Lord Vahirz said "You have the right of it there. But, given the state of things, I can't say I expect any attack on our fair kingdom in the near future. If it's battle you're looking for you may yet have a long wait a head of you."
"As it should be. After all a true leader never seeks out war, but must always be ready for it," said Ianthe, grinning.
Lord Vahirz nods in approval. Ianthe has learned her lessons well.
The two of them are about to resume when the session is rudely interrupted.
"Pardon me, Lord Ern Vahirz," said a Civil Servant, dashing over to them with a scroll in hand.
"What is it," said Lord Vahirz.
"A message from King Andragoras, Sir," said the Civil Servant, delivering the scroll.
"Father," said Ianthe, curious and a touch concerned.
Accepting the offering, Lord Vahirz said "What does His Majesty write?"
Lord Vahirz reads the message and within seconds he blanches, face morphing into horror.
"It can't be," he exclaims.
On the alert, Ianthe said "What message does my father send?"
Grimacing, Lord Vahirz said "It would seem I spoke too soon. It's war."
Pars Era, the year 320. Autumn.
The Lusitanian army conquered and defeated the Kingdom of Maryam. It then set it sights on Maryam's ally, the Kingdom of Pars. In response, Andragoras the Third and led them himself to the Fields of Atropatene, where he intended to intercept the invading Lusitanian's. Crown Princess Ianthe is about to embark on her maiden battle.
She is 16 years old.
Authors Note:
September 11th has come and gone once again. I was very young when it happened. Don't know about all of you, but I certainly was really scared. One minute I was at elementary school in class and the next my parents are pulling me out, taking my little sister and I home. That's when we learned the truth. The Twin Towers we'd see all the time whenever we traveled outside the city limits on road trips would no longer be there. We were stunned when we'd seen them destroyed on TV. Those trips were never the same again just like the lives of millions. In honor for the people that fell that day and to those still struggling to survive from the aftermath I suggest a moment of respective silence. I think we all can use that.
Hope you all like this one! I certainly did while writing it for your vast enjoyment! ;D
Ha! Ha! I think those of you who know the show have probably figured out who the painter is.
The song you see Ianthe singing here is She Is More Than This from the movie the Princess and the Cobbler. Also, known as the Thief and the Cobbler. If you haven't watched it before then go check it out. Guaranteed you won't be disappointed.
The dress Ianthe is wearing when the portrait is being painted is the one Myrcella wears in Game of Thrones when she is departing Dorne for the final time. It's the violet one with the shawl.
I'm glad to have finally gotten back to this after such a long absence compared to some others on my profile. I've been meaning to for a while and only now I've managed to find time and inspiration for it. Still in the beginning stages, but I'm very satisfied and happy about it.
Big time heads up! Article 13 is on the move again. Our freedom of speech is seriously on the line. Find a legitimate petition that is fighting this decision and sign onto it. Every signature counts to keep what we love alive.
I recently put up some other works I've put out at titled Secret Of Bristol Cove, Predators Redemption, A Revolutionary Romance, Fantine Tezla: Hot Wheels Acceleracers, Magic And the Brave Little Toaster 1, and Nuala: The White Lioness. I highly recommend them. ;D