the winter went on. senmut turned his thoughts to spring, and when he rose dripping one afternoon from the pool beneath the mesa, when he had been toweled by soft skins and perfumed with lotus, he extended an invitation for the noble
@Racharra to join him atop the mesa at her leisure for a luncheon overlooking the snows beyond.
it was time to discuss her future.
quick on her feet, Racharra trotted to the mesa where she had been told to meet. she was not told the specifics of what this meeting could entail, yet her heart throbbed with each click of her nails as her paw hit the rock beneath her.
her haste would bring her to the meeting point on time, or so she'd hoped. the breeze hit her harder than she had anticipated — she had become accustomed to the warmth of summer and the more gentle breezes of fall.
but this cold was sharper than her own fangs. she hoped it was not an omen.
her trot became a lumbering walk as she approached senmut. once her gaze met his she greeted him with a silent curtsey.
racharra was swift and elegant; he motioned for her to sit beside him. a mat of pristine reeds had been laid out before them, studded with offerings of the pine-sap fermentation, rabbit livers, and carefully preserved slices of the bison meat which had been gifted to them by moontide.
"when the winter ends, it will be time to gather a true court for pharaoh and consort. nobility is the cornerstone of a kingdom, nebet. it makes your own position very powerful."
senmut took a long sip of the pleasant drink. "in times past, pharaoh arranged the marriages of all nobles. i sense this is not the arrangement the Divine One wishes, however." a smile attended his mouth and he brought his green eyes back to racharra. "it is important that through your nobility we achieve a beneficial connection of some sort. but that is no longer restricted to marriage." he studied the girl. "tell me your aspirations, nebet."
the words marriage struck a chord in racharra, one that the idea made her heart flutter just a bit. the nebet understood it was her choice in the end, that it was not neccessary. especially when she already had a different goal in mind.
of course.
she nodded, deliberating on her next words with a swallow and a breath.
i want to rebuild greatwater lake. that is my aspiration.
she has not seen her mother in quite some time, nor her siblings. she thought of them as she spoke. where had they gone, she wondered. is it wrong to still dwell on the lake?
no, she tells herself, guilt-striken for even thinking such a thing. she licked her lips for she had started to nibble on them as her mind wandered far beyond the plateu. she had not yet even touched her plate.
i believe it'd bring more numbers to akashingo. at the very least it'd be good to have whilst traveling far, to avoid territory disputes and whatnot. i do not know how realistic of an aspiration it may be.
she thought of the treck she did while so young just to get to akashingo. sometimes she wonders how different life would've been had she stayed. she would've never learned the beauty of language, that's for sure.
though.. i do not believe i would mind a marriage.
she delicately slided the offer — too afraid to admit it directly but too appealing to deny it outright.
when did she stop being blunt about her desires? and when did she begin to second-guess herself? probably when she realized the position she had been granted.
greatwater lake.
but racharra hesitated around marriage.
"it seems to me that two might work better than a single body," senmut began thoughtfully. "i have no opposition to your claim upon the lake. i agree it would be an apt way to guard our northwestern gate. it might be more worthwhile to send a married pair there, in the spring."
in the spring when children might be born, he did not add. racharra would understand, senmut was certain. "i am going on an expedition to moontide, to bring gifts in trade and return with things we do not have here in among our palaces. come with me. it will give you a chance to travel, to view other sights, and perhaps to take stock of foreign men."
the man was quiet now, watching the young noblewoman.
a married pair in spring. what comes after writes itself.
with a deep draw of breath, racharra's chest puffed and so did the mane that had grown. it bristled before settling as she spoke once again.
of course.
she didn't know the intricacies but it was enough for racharra to understand. her only hope was that her family-to-be would not be torn, split perfectly in the middle with horrifying precision — like hers. and if, if, it was then may her children be as fortunate as her.
next, the word travel pricked racharra's ears. it was mostly the opportunity to learn more, to meet more, that enticed her. she nodded, then. i will accompany you, then. thank you.
a smile curled her lips for the first time in the conversation — small yet poised like she had trained.
foreign men would be intriguing. what would her type be, she wondered. in times like these, she sorely missed her easy conversations with miho. although she was the eldest, her younger sister was always the more social of the pair. she could've been a great hand by now.
shall i prepare anything? when will we set out?
"soon. i must write muat-riya," the prince explained, straightening. "for now, prepare yourself and anything else you would like to bring with you. remember that you go as emissary of akashingo and muat-riya both."
he wished for success on the girl's behalf, as much for their royals as for herself.
"pray to the gods before we travel," the priest encouraged, solemn once more as he contemplated the journey ahead.
racharra followed suit, straightening her figure to match that of the prince.
thank you.
she says, heart pounding against her chest, before finally turning her attention to her plate.
excitement — or anxiety — dwells in the pit of her stomach. but it'd be rude to let food go to waste in trying times.
have you been before? to moontide?
a question thrown out just to fill the atmosphere. she grew to hate the awkward silence between conversations, and curiosity about the world beyond the desert that she could only catch a glimpse of stirs her mind.
"i have not," senmut revealed, perhaps ruefully. "it has been a long while since i last saw the sea." and elation was climbing in him for the reward of the travel.
he turned his attention back to her. "what do you think it will be like?" the priest asked, a glimpse of boyish excitement showing through as he focused the question upon racharra.
the question gets a huff from her, the kind one does when a question is more of a roadblock. how is she supposed to know. she wouldn't dare say that to him though. she'd rather rip out her tongue than do that.
well..
she starts. her brow furrowing as she concentrates and drags out her words to fill the silence. must be fine if we'll be traveling with others.
it'll be new, and new can be good. usually.
the priest's expression was vaguely amused. "remember your vision. you are there as a nebet of akashingo. you are also there to represent greatwater lake, and your aims may differ from my own."
he drank deeply then, trying not to linger upon his own trepidation for so far a journey.
..of course.
she nods, though less assured than before. akashingo, she understands. but its hard to represent a pack that does not exist. represent the future, then? a weight that once did not exist now falls upon her like the thickest of deerskins she buries under during the coldest of nights. it makes her want to crack her back.
thank you.
she slips in, a gentle nod before tending to her food. you seem a bit excited, though, for a place you've rarely — if ever — visited.
how observant, this noblewoman who rose her head in akashingo.
senmut was pleased.
"i have not traveled so far since before i came to serve ramesses," he offered. "and i have not seen the sea which we will behold," he went on.
"erpa-ha i am, but still a priest. i will not overlook a new place wherein i might worship," grin glinting on his mouth.
racharra takes priest to mean "young" and worship to "explore." this is not a condemnation, of course its natural to be excited for new ventures when you rarely step past the palace gates. she is excited too, despite her woes, to see and learn about the sea.
but it is still an enthusiasm racharra finds humorous to see in the normally controlled priest.
her lips mirror senmut's. confidence returns to her for now. will religion be part of the trade then? will it be an exchange of culture alongside an exchange of goods?
"i think that we should make mention of our gods, yes. but not trade them. a worshipper must come to the temples of akashingo and muat-riya. the gods will decide then if a former heathen is worthy, outside of what we might feel."
"but our ways are your ways, and you will make more of your own as you grow in power, nebet. therefore, yes. you are also a standards for our piety, and we should make displays of this where we travel."
she raises a brow at heathens. what a sharp word, it could almost cut. are we all born heathens, then?
to the rest she nods. akashingo is a fine culture. though sometimes she wonders if it is truly her own.
understood, then.
"yes." it was an astute judgement of an early soul. "we must be taught properly what it is to believe. to worship. and we must be guided to our patroness or patron god."
understanding. a breath taken. "i will let you go now, nebet. think on what we have discussed. my faith is in you."
faith. it echoes in racharra's ears, and she nods. she'll have faith in the gods above her, faith in akashingo, and faith in herself too.
thank you, as always, erpa-ha.
with that, she finishes her wine, and sets to the temple to pray.