calling

took forever but another eset and charra thread like i promised 20 years ago :,)))

the days since the coronation have been slow for racharra, which is just what she needed as she grew into her adult body. in three months time, she will be a yearling. funny, then, how little she feels she's changed.

those thoughts accompanied the nebet as she stumbled through two eyes in search of one particular person. she was taught one shouldn't go barging into territory outside of Akashingo, but this surely counts as an exception.

Eset? she called, tone gentler than she normally would for a fellahin, but that was for a reason. if she hadn't changed, then certainly everyone else had. she'd grown to miss the former-fellahin. now, she hoped to return to simpler times where the only worry was finding a gift for her loved ones.

now here we are... 40 years later -sweats- thank you for your endless patience, seriously <33

It was a room all her own.

Not a sandy impression.  Not an earthen dugout. Not the master’s walled menagerie. A room all her own. With her plush furs, and her feathers, and a healthy sprig of crimson desert rose. Her paints and her drawings. Her gemstones on a stone shelf, waiting to be admired. No one here to attend. No one’s litter to pick up after. Only a room as tranquil as the river, a space for herself to go, as clean as a slab of quartzite before the engraving.

She passes her palm over the natural undulation of the stone, imagining the works that could go on these walls. The stories. Perhaps her’s.

A voice falls quietly down the hall, but it startles Eset with a stinging familiarity- like how a mother is attuned to the cry of her child. She pulls herself from the room and hastens through the corridors, her breath wedged in her throat and head whipping down the aisles in search of one particular girl.

“Racharra?”

AN: rach is 8-9 months here lawl

beautiful as the palace is, it is not home. it gives her no warmth nor company as she waits in the chamber expectantly. nervously. after what felt like forever for the impatient girl, the fella.. — hebsut's voice breaks the silence.

eset.. she stammers, catching the last glimpses of eset's haste. i'm sorry for disturbing you, i sincerely hope you weren't busy. it felt odd to refer to the woman with such formality, but it was what she was taught to do and so racharra must.

..will you be staying here? she's quick to the point, and while the lake cub isn't frowning there's concern behind those marigold eyes that watch carefully for the answer she wants.

Her impulse to reach for the girl, to pull her into her arms and feather her with affection is suppressed by a new wall of formality. Eset slows, stopping a respectful distance away.

The hebsut found Racharra much altered. She was tall now, willowy and long, doubling the coywolf in size and strength. And oh, she was beautiful, with embellishments in her fur that accentuated her eyes, making her appear older. But Eset still remembered the child, and the nebet was only a girl, still, in a world that had only continued to change around her.

“You know I am never busy for you, nebet,” Eset assures her gently, taking a slow step forward. But she stops abruptly when the second question is posed.

“I am,” it pained her to say so to the face of the girl. “Pharaoh has promoted me to Hebsut, I will live here in Muat-riya, now.”

there's a gap between them, and now it would only grow longer. with distance, with time. racharra could only linger in what she realizes were the last moments before the next time she may visit the new palace.

the nebet shifts and watches one of her adornments flutter onto the floor as she searches between the gap for what she wishes to say. 
why? did you not like the palace? or perhaps she did not wish to be fellahin? what for? queen toula is kind — even fellahin were treated like nebs and nebets. racharra's voice didn't falter, but there's a hurt in it that not even her training could hide.

“Of course not, lady Racharra. I am honored to serve Akashingo, but our Divine One needs help to establish the new palace here.” The air between them is cool. Eset is presented with a front she wishes had never been put there. The girl’s face is firm, her words precise,and yet everything is revealed in what she does not say. And Eset is surprised- shaken- for she had come to feel a deep affection for the child she’d had a hand in looking after, but never did she imagine it would be returned-

In the little drawn hallway Eset closes the space between them, no longer caring to heed proprietary between Nebet and Fellahin. She wants to take the girl’s face in her hands, but latches onto what she can, drawing her by the forearm beneath the curve of a steady palm.

“I wish I could tell you things are not going to change. The truth is they will. But not how I care for you. Never that.” She looks up into Racharra’s hurt, gathering her close, willing her to see what sincerity she held in her heart for her.

“I love you. No distance, nor anyone else, is going to take that away.”

racharra remains firm, nodding to eset's explanation. part of every empire is expansion, of course the palace is neccessary. 

but how ugly, dreadful these walls were now that they trap eset here.

briefly her head turns, only to be returned back to the hebsut as their dark paws join as one. the comfort from it was little — racharra knew it is fleeting but can't help but linger on the sight. the thin veneer of stoicism melts, softening her until she is not nebet but just the lake cub. 
the strength to meet eset's eyes had gone a long time ago, but briefly it returns to her as the woman utters a phrase.
i love you too. she pauses. ..but please don't leave.

"Racharra," Eset breathes, tucking her chin. Love.

She considered how to explain herself to the girl who may not understand, who’s birthright had granted her some manner of protection from the unpleasant- that it was not only upon Toula’s order she remained in the south. Eset had never felt shame in her position, but it did not explain how her throat suddenly went sapless when next her lips part.

“I have been fellahin my entire life. Muat-riya allows me to expand my opportunities. I feel... there is something for me here. A real chance at happiness.” Her face tilts, an unfaltering look studies the girl. So little of her intimate life was shared. She’d wanted Racharra to hold onto the remains of her childhood- yet now, Eset felt this too was evolving between them.

“But...you can come visit me. Anytime, no questions asked. You’ll have the biggest of the noble rooms, and may stay as long as you like,” her voice wavers. “In fact, I see no reason why you couldn’t move if you wanted, and continue your studies here.” To be with me.

so you weren't happy. there's a hiss to racharra's words. unsure if she'd been lied to or not, the nebet couldn't help but furrow her brow. you could've just said so..
but i understand. she didn't. not really, but she doesn't know what eset sees.

for a moment, she dwells. she sits on the offer. racharra loves eset, but she loves toula too. my own duties belong to the red palace. besides.. her voice dwindles until it is a whisper.
i'd like to be there if my sister or mother are to return.

“It’s not that simple,” her own reply comes quickly, not a defense she had readied but a force she felt all too keenly, “nothing in this world is.” She pulls back, compels her chin higher, looking as levelly as she could into the girl’s frown.

Racharra didn’t understand. Because she was right- the hebsut hadn’t been honest with her. If she wanted to now, she would detail out the vile events of her life before Akashingo. How her own mother had been abandoned to molder in the cruel grasp of her master. How Eset was indeed half of that evil.

Then- maybe she would see what Muat-riya meant to her, why it was so important.

She flicks her glazing eyes down to their mirrored feet upon the limestone, fighting an impulse to turn into herself. Instead, she covers Racharra’s dark paw with her own- a light touch. Soft. But let it speak for her in the ways she could not, and let the girl feel from it the coywolf's solemn attempts to understand. 

“You should be there,” she whispers in kind, "I pray, some day, they will be returned to you, Racharra."

she had touched a nerve, and racharra recoils. for a moment, there is silence.
..i'm sorry. i know.. though she didn't understand what that meant for a woman like eset, who has seen much more of the world than racharra has, the girl had also lived through enough to at least know that nothing in this world is ever simple.

ashamed, racharra hadn't noticed as eset's eyes glazed over in thought, instead having turned her gaze from guilt. the sudden clasp of her hand surprises racharra then as things settle to a gentler pace. but sorrow and solemn hung heavy like the vines that slithered through the gaps in the blue palace.

muat-riya is beautiful. while it is perfect for eset, it is not for racharra.
i pray too.. truthfully, i'd wish miho had been here to see Pharoah. i think she would've loved it.

“You do not need to apologize,” her head shakes and her hand tightens over the girl’s.  It was not easy for Racharra, either. She ached for the girl who had lost so much at so young an age. But she was proud of the confident woman the nebet was becoming; how she embraced her life in Akashingo. The hebsut’s eyes skim across her royal visage, her own face softening with a sigh.

“She was a vision, wasn’t she? I would have loved to see your sister’s reaction,” she gazes at their paws. She had not known Miho half as well, the two girls had been so reserved and quiet upon their arrival from the lake. But Eset wished Racharra could have maintained this sister bond- or in the very least was provided with some answers about where she vanished to.

“Would you like that to be you someday? Walking down the aisle?” The coywolf poses. She rises and turns for the foyer of her own chamber, motioning Racharra to a room where they may speak more freely without a risk of being overhead.

absolutely. miho wouldn't have stopped talking about it for weeks had she seen it. the nebet loosened after a gentle chuckle. the conversation did not linger on her lost sister, and perhaps it is for the best. she takes in a deep breath, and quiets the ache.

marriage. she hadn't truly even considered the thought until now. perhaps because there was a lack of boys her age in both palaces, just men who'd she'd known since childhood. her girlhood is a chapter near completion, made even closer to womanhood her stature as daughter of a giant.

if it'll be close to as beautiful as toula's, perhaps. she smiled. im not sure what groom i'd like. do you have any ideas?

There in her room, she gestures for the nebet to settle upon her bed of furs and tugs free a pelt to sit opposite her. It is the umber stole that Toula had once insisted she take. Eset straightens it upon the floor, running her paw through the luxurious thickness of it before returning her a look. She observes the girl with a contended sigh, taking this moment to recognize all the rapid ways in which the past few months had changed the girl she knew.

“Perhaps… a prince sweet-tempered, amiable, attentive...” Eset draws in answer. A groom for Racharra, it seemed such a sudden thought. She did not want to see the girl wed until she’d found a true complement, well into her second or third year- or fourth or fifth!

“I think you need to be challenged, Racharra. You might walk all over a man who could not match your cleverness,” the coywolf’s brows quirk devilishly as she sinks a hand further into her furs.

hesitantly, racharra takes the seat after having grown comfortable where she had previously sat. the tension having lightened, that hesitation did not last for long.

eset's idea was music to her ears, though how feasible it would be was a different question. besides, racharra had little experience with boys of her age — men in general. 

well.. racharra starts with a giggle. if i'm not careful i may trample him entirely. she glances at her own forearms. this body is far more suited for jodai than nebet, even at her young age.
but if he nags me too much, i may come out of that marriage looking like a vulture.

“I’d rather be a vulture than a mouse,” her eyes glint. She is so much struck that the girl might not see her true stunning, or that her physical power was not a merit to her womanhood. The young nebet laughs, perhaps these are only unfounded, maternal concerns, but still Eset feels compelled to tell her, “you are so beautiful, Racharra."

"I want to see you happy. Whenever you are- even if that is away from me.”

i'd prefer neither.

oh please.. i'm plain, and i don't think there's anything wrong with that.. there is no need to flatter me. if anything. i should be the one saying that to you!

she laughs but quickly it tapers, and racharra exhales again before speaking. i wish the same. i wish happiness for everyone who i've loved. the nebet sinks into the pelt, the curtains of her eyes heavy. i just only hope to be there to see it.

“No, you aren’t,” Eset arises, crossing the floor to her bedside and pulling Racharra into an affectionate embrace. “You are extraordinary- don’t you know that?” She loses not a moment to settle in beside her. She could not hold their heads together, as once she would have, but instead gathers her torso beneath the circle of her arms.

“You continue to make the people around you happy, and you will see it,” she leans her crown into the girl’s shoulder. “What are your plans for the summer?" She asks, eager to lighten the weight of so many burdens placed upon Racharra's heart.

what for? racharra shakes her head, hesitant to smile. for being the first nebet with tusks for teeth? still, she accepts eset's embrace. ..thank you.

summer..? she verifies, tilting her head to gaze off into the ceiling to think. perhaps establish the lake.. i'll be older then too, so maybe i'll have a bit more freedom to explore at least with a mazoi along. meet more people beyond yhe palace, establish connections and allyship, and maybe find her family?
her mother, her sisters and brother. and
perhaps her father too.

“My, what great, beautiful tusks you have,” Eset grins, snaking a playful paw up towards Racharra’s maw, feigning a close inspection. But the hearty laughter dwindles as soon as the lake is mentioned. She wonders if Racharra feels earnestly prepared for such an undertaking, if leadership was a true pursuit of passion, or an obligation. With a shallow sigh she realizes either way it does not matter. The nebet would act in the interest of the crown.

“That is a lot of responsibility," Eset whispers, only out of rapport. She knew the nebet would not make any decision lightly. "Is it what you want, Racharra?” Of course, time could change everything, what she wanted could shift, even in the short length of a few months.

yes yes, to bite you with. she snickers, feigning a chomp on eset's snout.

racharra hums, sinking into her pelt. i know. but it is my claim, isn't it? as first born and as akashingo's nebet. i was hoping to reunite with my family, so leadership can finally be returned to my mother. but eventually, she may have to take her place if not in greatwater then somewhere else. racharra speaks firmly, though truly a distance between herself and the lake had formed.

Eset nods, settling once more but holding her arm tight. She had never met Racharra’s mother, the woman had vanished shortly after arriving to the red palace, leaving her children to wonder at her disappearance. It had left a distinct bitterness in the coygirl’s mouth, though she understood some things were beyond any control. She hoped, for Racharra’s sake, they may one day be reunited. Eset just wished that if the time came, the girls’ mother had reasons for leaving them to grow up without their family.

“Then I shall come visit you there, Lake Princess,” her lips pull into a half-smile. The hebsut was quite in awe of Racharra and the mature young woman she was becoming; the way she owned herself. She hoped the girl's mother would one day get to see it, too.

lake queen, eventually. she giggles, though she couldn't imagine it. her mother was not a bad woman, just a complicated one. though sometimes, racharra wished zharille had taken some of those lessons alongside her so that she could've at least warned racharra of her departure. comfort her and tell her she would be back soon, know the meaning behind the words "i love you" and how to say it to her daughters.

thank you for speaking with me. i cannot lie; i am quite sad to hear that you'll stay, but.. the girl's chest rises as she builds up a sigh. i'm sure we will be fine.

Eset soothingly strokes Racharra’s shoulders with the tips of her fingers, much in the way she did when the girl was a mere chest-high child. “I think the world needs more leaders who are thoughtful and brave, and will listen to the wants of their subjects. And who better to mentor you than Pharaoh Toula. I’d like to see that, someday.”

Still, there was a certain emptiness growing, more bitter than sweet in this limited time they shared. She could think of a hundred things she should say. A maternal figure would comfort a young wolf, wouldn’t she? And yet Eset found she didn’t want to speak false realities to the girl… the girl that felt like her own daughter. It’s never easy to part from someone you love.

“There are going to be days when it’s not fine,” the hesbut speaks plainly, facing to the side so she can speak directly to her now. Would Racharra hate her for it?

“On those days, will you write to me? Legend and Khusobek will send letters between the packs. And when you need me, I’ll do my best to find a way to be there.”

i hope to live up to that expectation, then. but it is hard to see herself sitting atop a throne, regardless of the foundation it is built upon: might, bloodshed, or compassion.

racharra is silent then, contemplative of the future that she doesn't notice eset's gentle stroking of her shoulders as she musters something. the girl jerks back to reality with widened eyes when eset begins.

"there are going to be days where it is not fine."

..o-of course, i-.. she purses her lips. she'd never had to send messages. and — forgive her — the thought of retelling her deepermost thoughts and woes to legend for eset to then hear was something racharra would prefer not to imagine. messengers were for important things, not the wonderings and yearnings of a confused nebet. and dragging eset away from post felt wrong, too.

..i'll try. is all racharra can come up with.