Blackfeather Gold

She was beautiful and her name dripped from their lips like honey, like blood. She was beautiful and men bled in her honour, they made the air ring with the clash of metal and each strike was for her. Currently played by: Zo

[eiracaddock]

Ammut.  Of course she would run into the other queen when her mind was not what it needed to be.  Eira did not like nor trust the other woman, but she rose to her full height and met her eyes none the less.  Ammut was right.  Her mind was elsewhere but Eira truly did not want to hear condolences from those that did not mean it.  Somehow she highly doubted that Ammut would mean it.

“Thank you,” Eira replied softly.  “I’m afraid to say you would be right about that.  This was simply so…unexpected.”  Eira had never been terribly close with her father, but she loved him all the same.  It was a terrifying reminder that life is fragile.  Eira knew not to let her guard down.  She never could around most people.  There were simply too many willing to take advantage of a weakness.  “I appreciate your sympathy.”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

It amused her to watch the other woman try to regain some composure, especially when Ammut knew what a pathetically weak thing she was. Her abysmal act wasn’t fooling either of them, but the Queen Crow did not outwardly display her sadistic delight.

“Of course it is a surprise. No one expects such an atrocious thing to happen to someone they love. But your Lord Father was rather advanced in age, was he not? All of his children grown and with families of their own?

“I know it is of little consolation, but at least he was not robbed of the opportunity to watch you and your brothers grow. He lived long enough to see you become a Queen, to watch the boys he raised become men. As mothers, we are both aware that there is no greater happiness in this world than seeing one’s child grow, and I think that feeling extends to fathers as well. So despite his untimely passing, despite the horror that surrounds it, at least he left this world knowing what wonderful people his children became.”

[mermaidyke]

witches around the globe → egypt the witches of egypt belong to the land - the animals, the earth. their true powers lie in ruling, gold dripping from their fingers, men falling at their feet. raw and lovely, the egyptian witches walk barefoot through the dirt, a beast at their heels, dust rising in their wake. 

[eiracaddock]

Her father was dead.  The moment she heard the news, Eira felt numb.  It had been years since she had last seen her father, but he was still her father.  In some ways the happiness Eira had felt was fractured.  For so long she had wanted to return to Sol and visit her family there.  Now she would never see her father again.  First Leo and now this.  What could the Windsgates have done to offend the gods so?  Eira surely had no idea.  Tears fell in the privacy of her chambers, after she dismissed even her handmaidens.  Even now, she could not be seen as weak.  She knew that.  There was too much at stake with Ammut still in the kingdom.

While she cried alone, the Queen’s fingers traced her father’s words.  So many letters he had written her during her time in Nore.  Letters for her name day or congratulations on the birth of her children.  They were her connection, so she held tightly to them.  She wiped her tears away and when they would no longer come, she folded the letters and tucked them back in her box of mementos from Sol.

Only then did she summon her handmaidens and dress to face her people.  All in white save the silver and sapphire necklace resting against the hollow of her throat. It had been a gift from her father for her sixteenth nameday.  With her emotions locked away, Eira left her chambers.  She needed to hold Theodoric. That was about the only thing that could put a smile on her face in that moment.  However, before she reached the nursery she rounded a corner and bumped into someone.  “My apologies,” Eira murmured softly as she looked to see who she had affronted while lost in her own thoughts.

[thequeen-crow-blog]

A pillar of black and gold, Ammut’s mood was not much altered after news of King Dominic’s death reached her. As she’d imagined, Nore had thrown itself into the throes of utter despair, a vast comparison from what it had been but weeks ago. It amused her, that humans could be manipulated so easily. But then, that’s what she’d been planning on all along.

Still, she must spare the King and Queen her false condolences eventually. A suspicious eye would be cast in her direction otherwise. And as fate would have it, the fragile queen just so happened upon her. Taking a step back to allow space for her fellow ruler, Ammut allowed a somber smile to settle upon her lips.

“There is no need to apologize,” she said. “I imagine your mind is rather far from here at present. Please, allow me to offer my most humble apology. I know my words cannot bring back your Lord Father, but I do so hope they will provide you with comfort during this difficult time.”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

A Murder of Crows || Self

Nore was alive, more alive than it had been since her arrival. The Market Square was a choir of voices and colors and life. Doorways were decorated with pine needles and peoples of all ages traipsed about in costume. The Queen Crow had to admire their blind jubilation, the way they so desperately unburdened themselves of the struggles of life in this frozen wasteland. So eager were they to forget their troubles that they donned costumes to play at a life they would never have. It was so cute, so quaint, so...pathetic.

Ammut found she could not watch their naive celebration for long, not that she had any plans to take part. It sickened her to watch these people attempt to trick themselves into complacency. And that aside, she had much more important matters to attend to. Let the small folk have their games for now. Their laughter would cease to be in due time.

She took her leave of the Market Square, of the squawking mortals who resided on such sacred ground, and found solace as she left humanity further and further behind. It was rare for the Queen Crow to travel without her entourage of scholars and servants, but as trees slowly surrounded her, she hardly felt alone. There was magic all around this kingdom -- in the trees, in the dirt, in the waters. If she closed her eyes and truly focused, she could feel it just upon her fingertips. But she did not allow herself to indulge for long. A Queen should always keep her composure, even if there were no spectators to behold her. So she carried on, a beacon of gold in the growing darkness.

Her trek carried her past the Obsidian Palace and along the path set by their Dagur’s river. And as she grew ever closer to the Black Forest, she reminded herself of that which awaited her at its entrance. A Queen’s task, she called it. Mortals were too weak to take claim of that which they desired in secret. So Ammut would bare this burden -- for her people, for the Norns, for everyone. And after all was said and done, they would make a god of her. Or she would make a god of herself.

Her feet slowed to a stop as the Black Forest came into her vision, a chill running through her as the howls of the fey echoed in the vastness. The magic here was thick and heavy, twisting at her feet and settling upon her shoulders in welcome. She smiled privately, an adoration for the power and darkness of this place consuming her for the briefest of moments. But soon -- too soon -- there was another, a shadow of a woman emerging from the trees.

“It has been too long,” Ammut said, familiarity ringing in her voice.

“That it has,” the hooded figure replied, drawing near to the Queen. “These hands grow restless for want of some distract.”

“And a distraction you shall have,” the Queen replied. “Though this matter is of the utmost importance. ‘Tis no child’s game I summoned you for. But I trust you will attend to this matter with the same deftness and precision I have come to expect.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she said with a bow. “But, if it is not too bold to inquire, would it not be more pertinent to rid yourself of the Caddocks instead?”

“In due time, child. We must have patience," she crooned as she cupped the young woman’s face. “The seeds of rebellion must be planted on fertile soil, otherwise they will not bare fruit. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good, then you know what you must do.”

“Yes, but...”

“But?”

“Are you sure you want me to spare her?”

The Queen smiled, her cold gaze piercing into the woman’s very soul. “I have a sincere love for you, child, one that would be nigh impossible to uproot. But dare to question me again, and I shall show you what it means to make yourself my enemy.”

The woman nodded, her clenched jaw the only fear she dared to show. “Then it shall be done, Your Majesty.”

“See that it is.”

With no further words to be shared, the young woman receded into shadow once more, leaving Ammut to stand alone in the coming darkness. It was nearly time. Nore was just within her grasp. She had spent years waiting and plotting, and soon the final pieces of the puzzle would fall into place.

When the Queen looked up to the sky, a murder of crows took flight overhead. As their cries pierced through the skies and their wings beat mercilessly against the ever falling snow, the Queen Crow’s lips curved into a smile. “In due time,” she whispered softly to them.

“In due time, all will be as it should.”

And with a parting glance at the fearsome forest before her, she set forth to make good on her word.

[thequeen-crow-blog]

{ playingwith--fire: }

One’s people. Maryell picked up on her wording of the phrase. She was not a ruler of Nore and they were not her people. Though she was not about to point that out. She could only imagine what harm that would do and was in no position to get herself on bad terms with this woman. Instead, she nodded, her eyes cast downward at her feet for a brief moment.

“It is a difficult journey, going beyond the nameless mountains. Especially for those who have little wealth. The majority of people here know they would not survive such an endeavor,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Though if I could make the journey someday, I would. At least to see what it is like.”

Her eyes flickered back up to the woman. “Bias or no bias, I’m sure you know what is best. And I have no choice but to agree with fire, do I? It is practically what runs through my veins.” Maryell interlocked her fingers in front of her, tilting her head to the side curiously. “If it’s not too intrusive, may I ask why are you in Nore?”

The question was entirely intrusive. A commoner had no business asking for reasoning from a Queen. But the smile upon Ammut’s face did not waver, and she did not stay her words. She would give the nosy little thing an answer, however undeserving she was.

“Nore is a magical kingdom. I have admired it from afar for some years. Your lands are alive with magic, and I wished to behold its grandeur for myself. Surely I cannot be the first to hold such admiration?”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

{ playingwith--fire: }

Maryell’s eyes widened the moment she realized who she was talking to. She was used to speaking and performing for people who were of slightly higher power, but never the Queen of the Southern Isles. Her head bowed slightly out of respect. The girl had no strong liking or disliking for the woman, but she did respect those in ranks higher than herself. She would be a fool not to. Maryell took the the silver marks from her, smiling as she did so. People would often give her spare pennies, but never a gesture as great as that. Seven silver marks was more than she typically made in a day. “Thank you, Your Majesty, that is very much appreciated,” she beamed.

A trace of nervousness waved through her as the Queen spoke. Maryell knew she had to pick her words carefully when talking to someone of such importance. “I have not been anywhere else but Nore. The thought of moving south had never crossed my mind, but I’m not entirely opposed to the idea.” In reality, it frightened her, but perhaps she was right. Maybe Maryell would prosper more in the Southern Isles. “Do you believe I would be better off there?” she inquired.

A smile pulled at the Queen’s lips as recognition dawned upon the young woman. She would never tire of that look -- the awe and wonder that befell others when they encountered her for the first time. Drawing her fingers back into the sleeves of her fur cloak, her smile widened into something more benevolent. “It is no trouble, child. Wealth is wasted if it is not shared with one’s people.”

Though they weren’t her people...yet.

“In my time here I have come to understand that very few Norns have seen beyond the nameless mountains, so I cannot say I am surprised. It is a pity though, that you know no beauty other than that which surrounds you now. An enchanting young woman like yourself should not have her talents confined to one place for her whole life.

“But while I do think the Southern Isles would agree with your fire, perhaps I am simply biased. Not everyone agrees with the heat as much as myself.”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

{ playingwith--fire: }

Maryell let a bright smile form on her lips as she finished her routine in the streets, her eyes glancing around the people surrounding her. She danced around lightly on her feet as she waved farewell to her audience while the rush of adrenaline that she always got from a performance coursed through her. As her movements came to a halt, her eyes fell onto a person that had decided to stay around for a moment and flashed a grin in their direction. “Did you enjoy the performance?” she questioned lightheartedly.

The Queen was once more out among the Norn people. It was not a place that she favored, but it was good to be seen as a Queen not afraid to intermingle with the smallfolk. But the performance that she’d come across in the streets of the Market Square did not displease her. The young lady wielded her fire magic in a rather enchanting way. The Queen and her entourage clapped as the performance drew to an end, and she stepped forward to hand the girl seven silver marks.

“Yes, we enjoyed it quite thoroughly. Yours is a talent that is very rare among the Norns from what I have seen, at least in terms of artistry. Have you ever thought of taking your show elsewhere? I think it would be much appreciated by the eyes of many Southerners, like myself.”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

Superbia // Ammut & Open

[thequeen-crow-blog]

{ xavierxpiest: }

Your Majesty, Xavier’s mental voice (that sounded frighteningly like his mother’s) repeated, as if to not only scold but to make sure he didn’t make the same mistake again. Even so, he was already making an absolute ass of himself, being completely humiliating, and in front of a Queen no less! And it wasn’t going to get better, this much was sure.

Head still bowed in deference, Xavier tried to remember to be- or at least, pretend to be- socially graceful, stiffly nodding his head when the time felt right, burying his hands in the folds of his cloak in hopes that he could hide their quivering. Yet still, he couldn’t lift his head to look higher than her stomach, so instead he chose to look at the packed snow between them. Its white crystals stared right back up, judging him rather harshly in their vibrant, sterile gleam.

But it was hard, even nearing impossible, to maintain a sense of composure as the terrifying woman asked about what kept him here. It was a perfectly answerable question, yet he found his breath shallow in his throat and his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest.

“I… I… a b-bakery, I own… I own a - a b-b-bakery. B-business, er, k-keep me - me,” answered Xavier, his voice high and thin, as though he was struggling to get in a good deep breath. Just as well, he was, and he could feel his body quivering with that nervous panic that refused to leave him alone, no matter how hard he prayed.

Barely able to force the words to keep coming out, he added, “Y-your M-majesty… I ap-apologize…”

For being as tall as he was, Ammut found this man utterly spineless. He could not meet her eyes, could barely finish a sentence. She was truly shocked he was able to rise in the morning without assistance, so when he mentioned his business, her eyes widened with interest.

“A bakery, you say?” She smiled graciously, though the young man couldn’t see it. “I have not been to visit many of the shops here in Nore, and it would please me very much to do so. Would you be willing to host myself and my companions for a little while? I’m sure they are quite famished, and would find themselves very thankful for a snack.”

Her elegant fingers reaching outward, Ammut gently forced his chin up. Their eyes meeting for the first time in minutes, she said, “And I would find myself quite thankful as well.”

Letting her hand slide away, Ammut set aside the brooch which had so caught Xavier’s attention. “So, would you be so kind as to lead us to your bakery? I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest notion of where it might be.”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

Walkabout // Ammut & Montague

[thequeen-crow-blog]

{ fiat---lux: }

Montague smiled; the faint smirk crept on the corner of his lips that under a certain light seemed cunning and other charming. He kept himself ambiguous. Ammut’s cutting comment brought to mind the dispute between Prince Ini-Herit and the Dark Witch in the Market Square. That was easily the kingdom wide gossip for at least a month. Now he knew where the prince’s temper, although much less sophisticated than his mother, came from.

It was worrisome, with the engagement between Ini-Herit and Sophia in place. Montague would not want to see the princess be subject to such an environment. But that was somewhat besides the point.

“I agree. A benevolent ruler wins the genuine love of his or her people and brings prosperity to the kingdom. I’m confident that you will find that Nore shares the same philosophy.” He squeezed the belly of the horse to pick up the pace ever so slightly. It was mostly unintentional; Montague subconsciously wanted to keep a certain distance between themselves and the array of Ammut’s attendants. “It is no secret that we have fallen on hard times, but His Majesty has been ever so attentive and kept the kingdom together. You can see now just ahead of us is River Dagur. It is our main source of fish stocks. It is also a wonderful place for frolicking, though the stream is less friendly during the winter. People are advised to keep away from going into deep water.”

“The fishers are hard working people, and with Dagur’s mercy we have been blessed with a steady supply of salmon and trout throughout the year. Of course, this mustn’t seem all too impressive to you, considering Southern Isles’ strong navy and ocean companies.” He doubted that Nore’s fishery was of any interest to the Southern Queen. Heck, as much as Montague loved Nore, objectively speaking he didn’t see how Ammut could be interested in anything it had to offer that she didn’t already have, especially given the state Nore was in. It only worried him more to consider what other motives the queen may have behind her visit.

There was a smile of condescension upon Ammut’s lips. She had never once said she was benevolent. “I’m afraid I must disagree with you there, My Lord. A show of mercy every now and again is necessary to keep the love of one’s people, but blindly offering kindness is a quick way to destroy a kingdom.”

She knew Montague was not stupid enough to miss the meaning behind her words. The Norn king was quickly losing the power his family held over this kingdom for years. Had she not stepped foot onto this snow-covered land, rebellion would have left hundreds, even thousands, dead. But monarchies were meant to rise and to fall. Royal families were meant to be usurped. Gods, though, gods were all-powerful. Gods retained their position for all-time. A land such as Nore needed a god to watch over its best interests, and Ammut intended to give them that in due time.

She kept these thoughts private, though she planned to return to this particular topic soon enough. But having reached their destination at last, the Queen saw fit to focus her attention upon the river, listening to the well-practiced speech Montague spouted with little interest.

“You are quite lucky the waters have not frozen over, otherwise your hardships might worsen. But while you may not be be blessed with as many resources as my Southern fishers, you all are still quite fortunate to have this place. There is opportunity to be found in even the smallest of things, a fact which many people come to forget.”

Slowing her horse to a stop, Ammut was helped down onto the soft banks of the river. There was magic here, buried just beneath the surface, and she knelt down to feel it beneath her palm. She smiled then, the rich soil dirtying her fingers. This untapped power, it would be all hers soon. But she must be patient. And she must be smart.

“The ground here remains unfrozen as well,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the young lord. “What do you attribute this to, my Lord? Good fortune? Or something more?”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

Superbia // Ammut & Open

[thequeen-crow-blog]

{ love-the-eyes: }

Ammut was correct, but one rule of flatter was never to admit what it was outright. “Like someone who knows the truth,” she countered with an arching of her eyebrows. She was expectant, as if waiting for praise or insult. Any reaction would be worth seeing. This woman was a veritable deity, ancient and powerful and dangerous. And though Ruby depended on keeping herself safe, she knew that submitting to and cowering before this woman would do no such good here.

“Your Eminence speaks kind words, and I only wished my namer had been so clever.” Ruby shrugged, mocking lament for her unfortunate namer’s unfortunate imagination. Had she chosen a name now, Ruby would have refused to change it. She was recognizable as a grown woman, and she would have been too proud to remove herself from her family’s heritage. 

No, she had been an uncreative child, and named herself after Penelope’s last gift. Ruby lifted a hand to tug at the silver chain around her neck, pulling the ruby up from the space between her breasts. “Simply the gemstone I wear ‘round my neck, a gift from a lifetime ago.”

She wondered if the Crow knew about her son’s affair with the man Ruby once called brother, especially when he was publicly engaged to Nore’s little silver star. About how he offered more coin for her than the entire Whore House was worth. Two hundred nobles was the offering price, and he only lost the bid because Aric Caddock meant something to her previous master, whatever it might be. He did not give his favorite whore as a gift, and Ruby refused to accept that she was not useless. He simply could not accept that she had a life aside from him – and Ruby had been too stupid to keep it hidden.

She returned the gemstone to its proper place, doing nothing specific to draw attention to her cleavage. Ruby was acutely aware of every movement she made, and sh had to guess at how Ammut would interpret each and every one. A single wrong move could spell disaster, and Ruby wanted to get on her good side. Not lose her head.

“Though, if I may be so bold as to cite legend, your Eminence had chosen your name yourself.” Ruby knew the stories of the Crow. Everyone did, if their parents made sure they were properly fearful and respectful of the world. “Would a lowly consort be permitted to ask what meaning it carries for you?”

She was being tested, and by a whore no less. Ammut could have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. She had no real need to impress this girl or desire her affections, but she could be a very pretty puppet in times to come. And so she wore a pleased expression, the playfulness never leaving her eyes. “I know very much about both lies and truths, as well you might. Does it please you to be in the presence of one who can tell the difference? Or does it instead unnerve you?”

It was a question that was meant to be joking, but her words held some air of intimidation. Try as she might to come off as a gentle, benevolent being, there was always the threat of danger with Ammut. But if she was to be tested by a prostitute, she would do well to repay her in kind.

There were other reasons to investigate this woman, of course. She had known of the foolish purchase her son had tried to make of this girl. It had cost him a seat at his mother’s side for a time -- the tiring journey back to the Southern Isles his punishment -- but now that the whore was abed with the King and Queen, her name had never once left his lips. But she had to wonder just what it was about her that made Ini take leave of his senses. Perhaps her magic had something to do with it? But these were questions to leave unanswered, at least for now. She expected, though, her answer would reveal itself sooner rather than later.

Ammut looked to the simple necklace adorning the woman’s neck. It was rather unimpressive, at least compared to the jewels she wore herself, but she smiled nonetheless. “It must be quite precious to you, for you to keep it in your possession this long. Most people in your position generally abandon all vestiges of their past, do they not?”

It was a rather rude question, and Ammut knew it to be as such. But it was a genuine enough question, one meant to put even further pressure upon Ruby. Matters of past dalliances were always such sensitive topics for mortals, and she relished the idea of watching her facade start to crack.

The topic of herself though, was one that Ammut approached with her usual confidence. Her name had not been chosen without reason -- not one that she planned on revealing to this girl, of all people. But she still chose to answer, saying then, “For me, the name means freedom. It is freedom and strength and everything I wish to be for my people. It is a word from a long dead language, one that I doubt even the eldest of scholars could decipher. But even if the language has ceased to be, I shall make certain this word, at least, endures throughout time.”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

Walkabout // Ammut & Montague

[thequeen-crow-blog]

{ fiat---lux: }

Montague, on the other hand, excelled at tongue-biting. While he didn’t particularly appreciate the Queen’s needling words–especially when he was convinced that the Queen had been early, instead of him being late–he kept his opinion to himself. He was, in a manner of speaking, not himself, after all. He currently represented the King and Queen, and by extension the Nore; he must consider himself in terms of how King Aric would like him to act. It was a dangerous guessing game at times, and the stakes were always high.

He urged his horse forward. His back erect and shoulders square as if balancing the entire sky on his head. And he might as well felt it so, like his mother did, and those before her. “Yes, the Wu family descended from a long line of nobles and scholars. We have always served the Kings and Queens of Nore, whether we held official office or not. Our foremother was the confidant of a former Queen, and that’s how it began.”

He rode at a steady pace while the servants followed behind them at a distance. Montague kept the reign in a loop in his left hand, his left hand barely touching the reign. He learned to ride with one hand so he can hold the scroll and deliver reports while riding along side the King. “We are traveling northwest. We should see the river bank pretty soon.” Twisting his wrist slightly, he stirred his horse left when they reached a small crossroad. It wasn’t the route he took to commute between his family’s castle and the Palace, but it was the more scenic path.

“What of yourself, your Majesty? Have you a council or adviser in the Southern Isles?”

“A confidant,” she repeated, a hum of curiosity to her voice. That could mean any number of things, couldn’t it? His fondly admired foremother could have been nothing more than an up-jumped handmaiden for all he knew. Mortals always had a tendency to embellish. But she let her condescending tone do all the talking for her. Though she had no fear of sharing her thoughts, it hardly seemed prudent at the moment.

She turned to face the boy when he spoke to her, and something like a laugh passed her lips. “Have you difficulty seeing, my Lord? I do have a few spells to cure such ailments.” With a graceful flick of her wrist, Ammut gestured to the entourage of people galloping behind them. “They are some of my best and brightest advisers. Though, sadly, I could not bring all of them with me. Someone must run the country in my stead, of course.”

The Queen Crow let silence lull between the two of them, if only for a moment. The advisers she’d brought were more than just that, of course. They were also the most talented alchemists the world had ever seen. Countless tomes and texts had been written by their hands, their knowledge filling countless pages. They were just the ones to help her harness Nore’s magic, though when the time came, history would say she conquered the kingdom on her own.

“But I do not think of them as my only counselors,” she continued, her smile deceivingly sweet. “My most valued advisers are my people, for it is they who know the troubles that plague them most deeply. It is their council that I heed above all others, as should any good ruler, I would think.”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

Superbia // Ammut & Open

[thequeen-crow-blog]

{ xavierxpiest: }

Xavier scampered back an extra step as the Queen- though not his queen, specifically, he failed to remember- passed to look at the stunning brooch he’d placed back down in a haste a moment or two ago. He’d had no right to put his fingers on it, he reflected, no right to hold something so beautiful in his sickly hands. And he’d looked out of place with the thing, but as Queen Ammut traced its surface, she seemed to look perfectly right to have such a thing in her hands.

That all too familiar feeling of being wrong did nothing but intensify when she asked for his name, his own measly name, as though they were the same somehow, as though he were not wrong about everything. Which could not possibly be right, because Xavier didn’t know enough numbers to count his perceived faults so far.

So, naturally, when his name was asked of him, Xavier’s tongue sudden felt heavy in his mouth, as though it had been pumped with iron. Speaking more meant not only the embarrassment of his stutter, but the fact that, chances were, it wouldn’t be very intelligent. Even if his thoughts were clear enough, his fears held him back from clear communication.

Yet, to leave a Queen waiting would have been wrong of him, it would have been a fault in itself, so Xavier answered in a tense whisper, “Xavier P-piest, m-ma’am…”

Ammut’s smile never faltered, not even when he addressed her inappropriately. “It is Your Majesty,” she corrected, her smile showing the whites of her teeth. “That is the correct term to address me by, Xavier. If we are to become friends, we must know what to call each other, yes?” Not that she would ever truly consider such a lowly thing her friend.

But he need not know that. The Norns need not know it either. And with all eyes upon the two of them, chatting merrily before a Southern trader, she seemed far more benevolent than her reputation might suggest. And that was precisely what she wished to convey in that moment -- that she was a woman not only to be feared, but loved as well.

She turned her gaze upon the trader’s wares once more, ice blue eyes tracing over the delicate handiwork. “Did you know that when I first arrived here, Xavier, that I actually found myself a bit surprised? Your land is so very different from my own, so cold and subdued... But I must often remind myself that being different is not necessarily bad.

“Tell me, Xavier, what is it about your Kingdom that keeps you here? Is it family? Friends? Or something else entirely?”

[splitpersonax-deactivated201405]

[thequeen-crow-blog]

relativeinsane:

“Do you hear that? It’s the sound of battles fought and lives lost. It once pained me to know that I am the cause of such despair…”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

Superbia // Ammut & Open

[thequeen-crow-blog]

{ love-the-eyes: }

“Indeed, your Eminence, yours is a visage unmatcheable by even the most polished of pearls.” She knew well that Ammut had been speaking about the brooch in Ruby’s hand, but there was no doubt that she’d prefer the flatter far more than simple and humble agreement. In fact, Ruby had a feeling she’d much prefer someone confident in their assessment of her beauty than mumbling and stuttering. “Never have I seen such flawless beauty as yours.”

They were both beautiful women – anyone could see that. With their shapely cheeks and sharpened lips. Their grins were wicked, and their eyes were cruel. Ruby had heard of the Queen Crow’s exploits, and she had little doubt that the queen had heard of hers. They were hardly one in the same, but Ruby knew far better than to cross the witch that usurped a king.

Ruby grinned her wicked, hungry grin, allowing the queen to interpret it as she would. As sexual, as innocent, as calculating. There was no truth behind it but to please Ammut. Ruby’s loyalty was to herself before anyone else, but Eira – her master – came in at a distant second. But there was nothing more dangerous than inciting the Crow’s spite.

She brushed a curled lock behind her ear, exposing the scars on her exposed neck. She often would hide them among her newer clients and foreign merchants. Most people knew about the one her cheek – the kife wound from years ago – and assumed about those on her back. But it was much more appealing to ignore the flaws and see only the perfection beneath them.

As the hair fell back over Ruby’s ear, her neck was covered once more. Doubtless that the queen noticed it. It would be disappointing if someone rumored to be so cold and clever didn’t notice a show of submission. Ruby was showing her flaws in a way that appeared subconscious. To compare her flawed and ruined neck to Ammut’s slender and lovely one. (And while Ruby would do nothing too forward without good reason, she couldn’t deny that Ammut was an incredibly beautiful woman.)

The words were unexpected, but not unwelcome. Ammut took great pride in her beauty; It was meant to inspire, to awe, to intimidate. But it would be a lie to say the Queen had not grown accustomed to a certain sort of reaction from others. Most were too stunned by her elegant appearance to appreciate it verbally. But this young lady was different. And those who dared to stand out from the crowd always caught Ammut’s attention, be it for better or worse.

“Spoken like a woman who is quite used to flattering others,” the Queen commented, taking a step closer to the other woman. The marred flesh which she exposed to her did not go unnoticed by her frigid gaze. They were ugly scars, things which she should know better than to display. And by the few words the two of them had shared, Ammut knew that their appearance had not been without reason.

“Meet my eyes again, child,” she said, a vague gesture of her hand commanding Ruby’s movement. “I feel I know you, though yours is an acquaintance I have not made intimately.”

A closer look upon her visage, and Ammut recalled hers as a face among those at the Obsidian Palace. The name came to her only moments later -- Ruby, the Norn queen’s consort. She had a sort of magic, one that created illusions, that the weak-willed queen had come to treasure. Letting her lips spread into a wider smile, the Queen said, “Ah yes. Now I remember.”

The whore had been brought into the Palace not long after Ammut herself had arrived. And while she’d had little interest in knowing her at first, the Queen Crow could see her being a useful little toy. “They call you Ruby, yes? For the lovely color of your lips, I presume?”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

Walkabout // Ammut & Montague

[thequeen-crow-blog]

fiat---lux:

His personal opinions aside, duty always came first. Montague couldn’t say that he was thrilled to be delegated the task as the Queen Crow’s tourist guide, but he realized the gravity of the situation enough to not be a child about it. He made sure to be properly prepared. After consulting with an expert, they planned a trip up the river along the bank. Nothing too intense, which saved everyone the hazard of having to wear armors or heavy leathers. The lord himself was dressed in velvet and silk for warmth keeping. A woolen cloak over his shoulders running down his back, barely reaching the ground.

He would be glad that the velvet was densely threaded and his cloak secure, because when he was greeted with an icy attitude. Suppressing the urge to arch his eyebrows (a skill he learned to master during his years in the court), Montague was in no position to accept genuine apologies from a foreign queen, not to mention pointedly backhanded ones. So he responded the only way that was proper to respond: “The apology is mine. It was inappropriate that your Majesty should be waiting in this cold. Please let us correct this error. It won’t happen in the future.”

He sent the servants to get the horses. “My name is Montague Wu, at your service. I will show you the Northern side of Nore, along the River Dagur, and stop at my castle for refreshment.” Now he did feel like a tourist guide. Thankfully the servants came back with their horses before he had to start giving a preview on the condition of the road. “Your Majesty.” He nodded and mounted his horse just a courtesy few seconds after her. She looked not one day past 40–Montague studied inconspicuously and concluded–youthful for a mother of a son of the Prince’s age. Though the first thing Montague should know was that looks could be deceiving, which was exactly what concerned him. “Shall we?” Yet he smiled with proper delight.

Ammut had never been good at biting her tongue, and for centuries she’d had no reason to. A Queen’s opinion was of the highest authority, and in the Southern Isles her opinions were as good as law. But here, in this foreign kingdom which lingered just beyond her grasp, her opinion could lead to misfortune. She had a plan, one that had been carefully laid over years and years, which she must follow to the letter. And troublesome as it might be, this planned called for her to be polite to these insipid people.

At least for now.

But it was not a simple thing to quell her anger, and she would not forget the slight this stupid man had bestowed upon her. So when Ammut was met with his decidedly weak apology, she answered, “It is to be expected. It has been some while since Nore had a royal visitor, yes? Perhaps you all have simply fallen out of practice with the courtesies due to visiting rulers. But not to worry, I shall ensure that you all receive a thorough education on the subject.”

There was a smile upon her face, but the warmth of it did not meet her eyes. As finely manicured as her words had been, those orbs of molten ice revealed her truth. She would not be a pleasant companion for the duration of this trip. There would be nothing this man could do to appease her. And if he dared to insult her again, well, she could not be held responsible for any accidents which might befall him on their outing.

Her annoyance pushed aside for a moment, Ammut was helped onto a horse by one of the palace’s servants. She thanked the young man kindly, a more sincere smile was bestowed upon him than the nobleman at her side. And once the rest of her party were seated firmly upon their steeds, they started off at a trot.

At the very least, the trip itself sounded interesting enough. Ammut had visited the river before, of course, but her outlook may be changed by this Norn’s perspective. “Montague Wu,” she said, her gaze focused forward. “Yours is a family known to Nore for some time, yes? Tell me, how did your family’s acquaintance with the Caddocks begin? That is, if it is not too personal a tale.”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

Superbia // Ammut & Open

[thequeen-crow-blog]

xavierxpiest:

Xavier had always found a skill in forcing himself to do things. Whether it be baking or cleaning or even coming down the stairs, he always could eventually bully himself into getting what he could of his work done. On the good days, at least; the days where his mind was not so loud with anxiety that he could barely think, let alone do anything useful.

Every once in a while, he would add the Market Square as a place to make himself go. Sometimes, because he needed things. Well, most of the time for that reason, actually. But on days he was feeling particularly brave, he would go get what was needed and take a longer route home, stalling for a few minutes to look at what vendors had to offer. It was a way of making himself believe there was some sort of hope for him, that he wouldn’t be a frightened shut-in until death relieved him of his troubles.

Brave was not how Xavier felt that day, though. Not in that moment. He was never truly brave, for that matter. Maybe he’d felt a little less frightened going down the stairs, a little less frightened as he’d left through the back door of the bakery, basket forever in hand. He’d gone to a southern merchant’s cart to place an order for grains and flour to the bakery for a few months, something that wasn’t that bad, considering how often he’d had to do it, purely because he wasn’t busy enough not to go.

Once his order had been placed, unlike he’d expected, he found himself gripped by nothing more than his usual sense of nervousness; the type that made him walk quickly, but not the type that sent him practically flying back home in order to hide away once more. And, on a few rather forceful notes from that hopeful part of him, he slowed enough to glance over a small, covered cart decorated with delicate pieces of jewelry.

Even for someone with such a rushed and anxious disposition, Xavier stopped to admire, fighting his want to run off again by counting down from five with every piece he looked at, giving each one a time. The vendor left him alone, much to his relief, allowing him to even focus on a few pieces, things like he’d never seen before. Maybe because he wasn’t out enough, and maybe because he’d never had to wealth to worry about jewelry.

He’d carefully picked up a small coral brooch, using both shaking hands to cradle it, when a voice cut his silence. Even a tone that didn’t seem to be angry made him place the brooch down in a rush and turn, bowing his head. “I… uh… It’s l-lovely, m-ma’am. I’ve n-never…”

Recognition sparked in his head the moment his words trailed off. The rumors that he’d heard, someone he hadn’t seen yet because he just spent so much time inside… Suddenly Xavier shut his mouth, bowing his head even more so, as if he could somehow become shorter.

The Queen’s eyes moved rapidly; from Xavier’s face, to his hands, to the lovely brooch he’d placed back upon the merchant’s cart. It was this brief observation which led her to understand the man before her immediately. Weak, frightened, and powerless -- for all that he towered over her -- he was a simple enough puzzle to solve. And at any other moment she might move past this young man, disregarding him as entirely useless, but she had come to the Market Square to learn of the Norn people. So despite the disgust she felt for this creature, she would force herself to endure his company.

She smiled sweetly as recognition crossed his gaunt face. Yes, he had been blessed with the presence of a Queen, and if he did not regard her appropriately she might just take offense. But men were always such stupid things. They never knew how to respond to a powerful woman. And so she let him gather his wits as she moved passed him, taking the brooch between her own fingers lovingly.

“No, I imagine that you haven’t,” she said softly, tracing over the delicate curves of the piece. “You have never set foot beyond this kingdom, like many others, I imagine. And such a pity that is, when there is such beauty to behold beyond your nameless mountains.”

The Queen turned to face him then, that perfectly constructed smile still lingering upon her lips. “But we cannot begin this way. I believe it is customary to introduce oneself when making a new acquaintance. Tell me your name, young man. I should like to address you properly if we are to get to know each other.”

[thequeen-crow-blog]

Walkabout // Ammut & Montague

The Queen Crow was not a woman who liked to be kept waiting. She was also not a woman who appreciated being passed off. But much to her chagrin, both of these things had happened to her, as the Norn King saw fit to abandon her. A matter of chief importance had arisen, one that did not allow him to attend to the Queen Crow’s beck and call. So when she was informed -- by a servant no less -- that her tour of the Kingdom would not be with the King, but his adviser, she had not been well pleased.

Who did this man think he was? Treating her as something less than the ruler of the Southern Isles. Why, if she was a more malevolent being, she might have cursed him for such a slight. But she met the news as graciously as she could, smiling coldly at the King’s messenger before dismissing them with a wave of her hand. If she must endure his damnable adviser, she would do it, but she would not do so politely.

And so the day of their planned excursion came, the Queen Crow and her entourage awaiting the King’s adviser near the stables. The mortals surrounding her shivered as the winds blew harder, Ammut still standing proud as if untouched by the winter’s chill. This was entirely unacceptable behavior, as far as she was concerned. To be so slighted by such a weak man was one thing, but now to be made to wait in the cold for a human she’d never met? This was unforgivable, as far as she was concerned, and she intended to make her displeasure known.

After many long minutes of waiting, the Queen turned her head as a young nobleman began to approach. So, this was the lowly creature that had dared to inconvenience her? A bitter smile spread across her lips as he approached, her voice lashing out like a whip between them. “My apologies, my Lord. If I had known our excursion to be such an inconvenience, we should have rescheduled for a more agreeable time.”