Wolf RPG

when rhaenyra woke from the haze of grief and hallucinations, she found herself far from the sea... again. another blow to the tender bruises on her heart, yet the seahawk took this in stride. the scents of many wolves were nearby.
she groomed herself to the standard of a seahawk princess, dried her eyes and straightened her shoulders. she had lost herself for a time, but she would not do so again. rhaenyra presented herself at the border of the pack and sang out sweetly for their leaders.
foxfire swept down from the sky to dig claws into her back, and the world was right for a moment.

a woman, speaking many words in the tongue of barbarians. rhaenyra bowed her head politely, preparing the sentence she had practiced so many times since learning the words.

«i am rhaenyra seahawk, πριγκίπισσα of the starlit shores,» she considered. «princess.» she did not know how to continue, but assumed that if the name starlit shores held any weight in these lands, the servant tavina would proceed accordingly. if not... rhaenyra supposed she would find out what these people thought of royalty.

rhaenyra immediately became suspicious of a truth that should have been obvious to her from the beginning: the weight of her titles held no bearing here. the servant made a grand spectacle of peering around, likely in search of the royal guard which, traditionally, should have accompanied rhaenyra outside of her own lands at all times. tradition, yes, but the seahawks were well-known for their unique independence. often her kingly brother himself called upon allies with naught but the sea at his back, if only to show that he had no fear.
tavina would have known that, if the empire of the starlit shores was known to akashingo. rhaenyra followed, subdued despite her incomplete understanding of the woman's words. mourning, she understood. the rest she could only infer.
«akashingo mourns... a royal?» she questioned softly, thoughtful as she recalled distant lessons. she'd learned only a small scattering of words, various phrases and terms to describe herself and her people. mourning had been part of the crisis lesson, she remembered. royal, the introduction lesson. rhaenyra had meant to ask rather if one of their nobility had passed, for surely they would not mourn a mere merchant or peasant so, but she did not know the word barbarians used for their nobles. royal was the closest word she possessed.

queen. murdered. ah. rhaenyra expressed her condolences in an appropriately solemn tone, for what little it was worth to a woman who could not understand. it was expected.
the seahawk princess, for her part, felt a twinge of nostalgia to be met by such tragedy on arrival. at least this place held some familiarity. these barbarians were not so different. simply... unrefined.
the woman held her silence. rhaenyra could hear the sounds of sorrow echoing all around as their path took them down red stone corridors. they were distastefully expressive in their grief, but the seahawk would reserve her judgment for their ruler. she could only hope that the moment would come soon.

she led the princess into the high-domed room. flowers had been scattered upon its floor.

"pharaoh." she addressed the tall pale figure of the man who sat silently upon his throne.

"this is princess rhaenyra seahawk of the starlit shores. she seeks an audience."

at last she was brought to the chamber in which their king resided, a great ballroom with a high ceiling and a throne for the leader of the barbarians.
he was nothing like she expected.
the dark-eyed man was unexpectedly beautiful for a barbarian king, despite the broad rough-carved nature of his features. he had none of the blood, yet he seemed to her as pale and ethereal as any true seahawk. rhaenyra's bow was deeper this time, smooth and practiced; a greeting from one royal to another, a far cry from the cursory show of respect she had afforded his servant at the borders.
she approached at his beckoning, intrigued now by the situation she had found herself in.
«condolences of your great loss, your majesty,» these words came less haltingly than others, though her accent remained thick; these words, she recalled from lessons. «i seek... ακροατήριο. ah. audience. my brother, the king of the starlit shores...»
frustration welled within as her speech halted, yet she kept her face a mask of composure and merely smiled.
«i apologize, your majesty. this is not my language.»

ramesses noticed she had similar coloration to makono as she spoke. her accent was heavy and she uttered with ease the language of mercenaries and fishermen. this piqued pharaoh and roused him from the current stupor. she was a coarsened sea-pearl offering herself to be plucked.
his eyes lingered on her beauty.
the void yawned within.
"your brother the king sends his sister in his stead." it was an assumption. the royal woman would need to correct him if he was not apt in his assessment.
"πες μου για τις ακτές σου, πριγκίπισσα," ramesses purred, slipping smoothly to her mother-tongue and thereby hoping to woo her even as his flesh refused to stir beneath the encasement of raw grief.

the king finished her sentence with his own assumption; the words he wished to hear, perhaps. rhaenyra remembered her brother's mockery of a parting gift to her, and wondered if perhaps she might use it to her advantage. gaemon, fool that he was, had proclaimed before the full court that he would support her efforts to expand the seahawk empire. he had done it knowing that rhaenyra would never find rhaegar, would never be able to produce the heirs necessary to sustain a claim. and even if she did... well, that would keep her away from the starlit shores, wouldn't it? she could raise an army, certainly, but gaemon knew her too well; she would not.
the obstacle posed by rhaegar's absence remained; her children could not be tainted by the blood of barbarians, but perhaps this king could be led to believe otherwise.
he spoke in her language then, a beautiful sound and fluent from his lips. and her decision was made.
«Λέγεται ότι ένας βασιλιάς αντανακλά τις ιδιότητες του βασιλείου του. Το Ακασίνγκο πρέπει να είναι ένα μέρος με εξαιρετικές δεξιότητες και ομορφιά,» she allowed her delight to show in her expression, accustomed to lavishing praise on nobles from her time in her father's court. but had she ever danced this ancient dance with a king before? no; the only king she had known had been her own father... and that lackwit gaemon, of course. «Οι έναστρες ακτές βρίσκονται πολύ ανατολικά, στην καρδιά του κόλπου των κοσμημάτων. Διεκδικούμε μόνο ένα μέρος του κόλπου για τον εαυτό μας, αλλά απαιτούμε πίστη από όλους όσους βρίσκονται στη γη μας. ο αδερφός μου, ο βασιλιάς gaemon, πρώτος του ονόματός του, έχει δώσει την ευλογία του για την επέκταση της δυτικής μας επιρροής με όποιον τρόπο θεωρώ κατάλληλο,»
with a humble dip of her head, she extended her deception without missing a beat. he would wonder, after all, why she had come alone for such a grand purpose. but this lie could be rooted in the truth, as with all the rest. «Έρχομαι κοντά σας ταπεινωμένος, στερημένος από τα ωραία του σταθμού μου σύμφωνα με την παράδοση όλων των επιχειρηματικών θαλάσσιων σκαφών. είναι γνωστό σε όλα τα βασίλεια που αγγίζονται από την επιρροή μας ότι ένα και μόνο θαλάσσιο θαλάσσιο σκάφος αξίζει το βάρος του σε χρυσό και δεν παίρνουμε τίποτα που δεν έχουμε κερδίσει,» she smiled. «αλλά δεν ήρθα σε εσάς χωρίς τίποτα να προσφέρω. φέρνω την υπόσχεση των δώρων και του εμπορίου, εάν το akashingo γίνει σύμμαχος των ακτών που φωτίζονται από τα αστέρια. η δική μας είναι μια πλούσια γη. στους συμμάχους μας προσφέρουμε αποξηραμένα κρέατα και βότανα, πολύτιμα πετράδια και πέτρες της θάλασσας, στρατιώτες και υπηρέτες και μαθητευόμενους. και προσφέρουμε τις δικές μας συνδέσεις. οι πρεσβευτές μας ταξιδεύουν σε όλο τον κόσμο και φέρνουν πίσω θησαυρούς και γνώσεις για ξένα βασίλεια. όλα αυτά θα ήταν δικά σας, αν και οι πρεσβευτές σας μπορεί να βρουν το ταξίδι κουραστικό,»

princess rhaenyra said a thousand pretty things. ramesses watched the delicate movements of her mouth as she spoke the bouncing seafarer's tongue. first she praised him, and then she spoke of 'we' while he noted again that her brother had not come, that he had not seen fit to make such an irksome journey, that the distant man appeared to be more in the business of receiving visiting kings than making his own appearances.
and that he had sent his sister, his elegant, foreign sister, to speak on his behalf, to offer their wealth, their riches, their strength, their bartering. and still she did not see that it was she who was the goods proposed, the pearl in a crown's circlet, a jewel exposed in a velvet box and passed from one man's hand to another.
but that was the fate of girl children. he had already accepted it for his own.
when her glorious courtier's speech had ended and rhaenyra stood before him glowing and proud, ramesses smiled in a long silence. "these are lovely things that you have said and that you have offered me. akashingo would be blessed to house any one of your treasures." a pause, and then "— but they are only words."
he motioned to tavina. she disappeared and a moment later two servants came and set a meal of meat and berries upon the eating-mats to the left of the throne. ramesses did not speak again until he had come to sit down there, and indicated she should sit across from him. rabbit, wrapped in its own skin. wood-goose upon a bed of its own feathers. not such a feast, but a hinting toward wealth. "you say you are unburdened by gifts as you seek to build your expansion. this means you have nothing to offer, princess rhaenyra. you offer the promise of what you will have."
he took up three berries and melted them beneath his tongue. "but akashingo was not built upon promises. it was built by word and deed. i require the same from my allies. the best way to gain my favor is to offer a marriage to my kingdom, one of high rank, with the promise of children to take the name and ways of my palace."