NationStates Jolt Archive

Queen Eleanor sat in her study, idly folding up the latest reports of her spy networks. A thin smile touched her lips, her dark skirts billowing in the shadows. She looked back to the two legal tomes open on her desk. Her barrister had shown them to her just this morning. She hadn't needed the technicalities for her plans to come to fruition, but they did bring her great joy.

From the Legal Code of the Empire of the Resurgent Dream:

Marriage shall be defined as a sacred bond between one man and one woman. It is a bond of romantic love and into which children are to be brought. It is to be kept faithful, holy, and eternal.

From the Summer Codex:

Love conquers all obstacles. None may stand in the way of true love, whosoever might hold it for another. If two love each other with all their hearts, then the world is their heritage and all who cherish the values of light and love shall give their blessings.

A boggan in silver and black livery enters the study. Bowing to the queen, he smiles. "Queen Elaine is supposed to be presenting her betrothed to the High Queen this week, Your Majesty. We received final word last week. As per your orders, I have had your bags packed."

Elaine looked up, a dark smile crossing her unearthly face. "Have my things shipped. I shall travel by more...inconspicuous means. I would not miss this for the world but I do not want Her Imperial Majesty to suspect anything of interest."

The boggan nods lightly. "Our agents in the other kingdoms have reported a number of interesting opportunities. Lady Katherine is quite charmed by our court. She has visited thrice in the last year or so."

Eleanor shrugs. "Well, I do, of course, have nothing but her interests in mind. She is such a dear friend."

With another bow, the boggan scurries out. Eleanor moves to a wall and begins to faintly scratch in the onyx surface with an ornate silver dagger.

The audience chamber of the high court was a simple room. It was not the largest or the most ornate such room in the world by any means. That was to be expected. Their were many nations with more wealth to expend on such matters and with greater international power to symbolize. What was surprising was that it was not even the most grandiose such room in the empire. At least two queens had spent decidedly more treasure on their audience chambers than Corrina. What the chamber did have was an understated dignity. Well spaced Doric pillars held up a roof of gold above the green marble floor. Three steps lay at the foot of a golden, emerald encrusted throne where High Queen Corrina sat in state, wearing a green gown and the golden crown bearing the emblem of the gryffon upon it. It was here that formal ambassadors from potential allies would be received, despite the god relations built at balls, conferences, and other such functions. It was here that the queen judged disputes between nobles. There were quite a few more trivial matters decided in this room as well. By a technicality, a dispute between two farmers over a pig had made it's way to this chamber earlier today. However, none of this was as exciting as what Corrina was expecting soon. Queen Elaine was to present her future husband to her liege. The rumors were all over the palace. Servants who managed to snatch a moment of free time and the local notables lined the walls, eagerly awaiting the event and ignoring the more routine matters.

((OOC: The ambassadors thing is probably going to be the best jumping in opportunity for anyone who wants in. Still, telegram first for this thread))

A shrouded figure stands in the crowd lining the edge of the audience chamber. Even the otherworldly beauty of a sidhe can be hidden by black, heavy robes and a a deep hood. Eleanor smirks faintly as she watches the high queen. She isn't quite sure what will happen. She knows that there are some nations which are very open on matters of love and others which are explicitly conservative. However, the Resurgent Dream had never addressed it before at all. Only Eleanor and two or three others were even more than peripherally aware of what went on in other nations. Still, the law clearly said too contradictory things. There could not but be strife in Her Imperial Majesty's court, strife Eleanor yearned to see.

The dark queen accepted a place in the back. By rank, she should be standing by the high queen herself. By sheer force of presence and physical strength, she could easily force her way past almost everyone in the room. She could even take Corrina in a one on one fight, or so she told herself. Yet, Eleanor was trying to avoid attention. A position too prominent might get her noticed. Today, she was a spectator. Honestly, she should have let this happen from a distance but she couldn't resist seeing the looks on everyone's face. Besides, there might be some work for her to do before this was done.

Meanwhile, in the halls, a small group moved towards the audience chambers. Queen Elaine, dressed in a glimmering gown of radiant crimson, seems to glide more than walk, flanked on either side by noble attendants. To her left walks Lord Robert ap Fiona, a dashing man with a fierce expression as though he plans to take on the entire world. "I wonder what Her Imperial Majesty will say, my liege."

Countess Catherine ni Fiona, the silver clad brunnette on the other side of the queen, frowns a little, looking at the ground shyly. "I think I have an idea."

Elaine shrugs. "It can hardly be that bad. Besides, my mind is quite made up." She turns to Robert, smiling. "You are always so argumentative. It is part of what we adore about you. Nonetheless, we are a queen and a daughter of Fiona. We will not be told to whom are hearts are to belong. We follow our passions."

Countess Catherine nods with a faint smile. "She speaks truth. She has always been this way."

An older elven man presented himself to the gate guard. He was dressed in a sharply appointed uniform with a chestful of medals that would seem to weigh him down if he weren't still in fine condition. He removed his glove and took a folded piece of parchment from his pocket. He presented it to the guard. "General Ian St. James, retired, representing both kingdoms of Highport, and my liege King Turquine Buccannah and Dragonsreach under Queen Lauralin Silverlief, daughter to the king." He then placed his glove back on, a bright white in comparison to the sharp black generals uniform with five claws, the tips flat to represent his retired status, on the shoulder. He then reached down to tie the peace to on his slim elven blade, to denote his peaceful intentions.

The guards flank the ambassador, walking him to the audience chamber. They move to the sides of the door as the High Queen's eyes settle on the ambassador. All eyes along the walls turn to the newcomer. A servant steps up to the throne and whispers briefly in the high queen's ear. Corrina nods, smiling lightly at the ambassador from Highport and Dragonsreach.

St. James holds his right hand to his heart and his other out, though not daring to approach to place his hand on her chest, as is traditional. "Heart to heart I greet thee, O Queen, and am honored to stand before thee." At that he lowers his hands and kneels, bowing his head and removing his scabbard with this sheathed sword and holds it forward as show of good faith in surrendering his weapon. "To you offer homage, as is your right, and ask that I may serve my liege lord, and in honor represent the Queen of Dragonsreach as well, to your court."

Corrina reaches down, clasping the scabbard briefly in her ceremonial acceptance of the offer. "We accept you to our court as the voice of the Lord of Highport and the Queen of Dragonsreach." She rises back to a sitting position, releasing the sword. "We are expecting one of our vassal queens to announce the man she intends to make her king this even. Please stay and join us in our rejoicing."

Eleanor watches all this with a contemptuous smirk. She glances once more towards the door just as Queen Elaine enters with Lord Robert and Countess Catherine. Corrina's eyes move over Robert, taking in every detail of the man as her political mind makes complex calculations, filling with politics and intrigues. The three, led by Elaine, make their way half-way towards the queen where they halt, waiting for the ambassador with light smiles.

Corrina smiles to Ian. "It seems, ambassador, that they are earlier than expected. Please meet Queen Elaine ni Fiona of Falara, with her betrothed and her lady in waiting." Eleanor lets out a light snort at that and Elaine exchanges a look with each of those with her, though says nothing.

St. James rises and turns crisply on his heel, replacing the scabbard to his side, careful not to touch the peace ties that prevents him from drawing it quickly. He takes one step forward....and hesitates. He had never met with more than one king or queen at a time and was unsure if he should proceed with the the proper greeting of the ruler of the land or less former greeting of a visiting ruler to another land. Erring on the side of caution he chooses a greeting for notable dignitaries. "May the gods smile upon you and bring you happiness." he says, choosing also to address the upcoming betrothal, "and may you be gifted with long life filled with the love and joy that you so rightfully deserve." With that he turns sharply back to Corrina and offers a sharp salute, the clawed hand to heart and then outthrust to her, before turning sharply again and stepping to the side, where he HOPED he was supposed to be.

Elaine smiles, inclining her head to the ambassador. "On you as well." As he steps to the sidhe, the trio approaches the throne. Lord Robert and Countess Catherine kneel before Corrina as Elaine bows her head.

Corrina's lips turn upward in a gentle smile. "Rise." As Robert and Catherine do so, the high queen continues, looking at Elaine and Robert. "We are told you have a rather important announcement for our court."

Elaine nods. "Indeed we do. We would seek to announce our betrothal." Corrina grins brightly. Elaine pauses a moment, considering, before she continues. "Your Imperial Majesty, we wish to present to you the Countess Catherine ni Fiona, our intended bride." Sudden silence falls over the court as the high queen stumbles to her feet. Elaine smiles softly at Catherine, leaning over to lightly kiss the other woman before she goes on. "We are very much in love and the potential..."

Corrina rises sharply, cutting her vassal off with one raised hand. "We will think on this." Sharp, curt, bristling with anger just below the surface. "Our court is dismissed." Corrina moves towards her private exit, servants shutting the doors behind her and guards moving to prevent entrance.

Eleanor smiles in her vast hood. She travels smoothly through the excited, gossiping crowd, adding a whisper to the rumors here and there, just where she thinks it will do the most good. Still, she does slip out of the room while the crowd remains. Elaine takes the hand of her beloved, holding it tightly, as she thrusts her head high and walks proudly from the room, steadfastly ignoring the commotion.

St. James looked around in confusion, not quite sure what just happened. One thing was for sure, the High Queen didn't seem to like this Countess to much. He looked at the retreating couple, his confusion evident only in his eyes, his face a mask that he wore like the armor that he had stowed in the chest in his carriage. To further his confusion he had just arrived and had no idea where to go and no living accomodations as yet. And so he stood at attention, looking at the couple in confusion and wondering just what in the hell he was supposed to do now. But pride wouldn't allow him to ask anyone, he would wait until the room cleared out then head out himself, back to his coach and find some place suitable plant his ass.

A servant approaches St. James, bowing. "My lord, you must forgive Her Imperial Majesty. She is rather taken aback by this...obscenity. Nonetheless, I have orders to show you to your chambers. Do you have any luggage?"

Elaine strode through the halls until she was away from the prying eyes of the public. Even Lord Robert was sent away with a sharp glance. Taking Catherine's hands in hers and smiling bittersweetly, she spoke in apologetic tones. "I shouldn't have put you through that, my dearest love. I know you're more sensitive to these things than I am."

Catherine shrugs, leaning up to plant a quick peck on her fiance's lips. "I wanted it as much as you did, darling. It's something we have to go through if we're ever to openly and officially be together."

Elaine nods. "That doesn't mean there's any guarantees. The high queen could technically simply say no or even have us arrested for seeking to undermine the law..."

Catherine had gently pressed a finger against Elaine's lip. "Hush, love. We shan't dwell on the bad. I'm weary, however. Might we return to our chambers?"

"Gen...", he starting correcting the servant but then remembered that was retired, "that is I just don't understand what obscenity your reffering to? Is Countess to low a station for a Queen in your nation? But yes I do have luggage, I'll go get it."

The servant holds up a hand. "No, no, m'lord. It will be brought to your chambers." He looks over his shoulder and calls to a nearby troll. "Fetch the Lord Ambassadors luggage and bring it to his chambers." Turning back to the man, he starts to move down the halls. "Right this way, m'lord."

The servant pauses, considering the ambassador's words. "You honestly don't know what I am referring to?" He stares at St. James, seeming to quite frankly not believe the man. "They are both women, my lord. A woman may not marry another woman. It is against nature, against the moral basis of the family, and against the definition of marriage on our books. These things just don't happen here. It's never even been suggested or debated. I assumed no one had ever thought about these things or done them in private here though I suppose I was wrong. A simple refusal would have greeted anyone else but...Elaine is a queen. We'll see what happens. But...is this really the way of things in Dragonsreach?" Pausing, the servant asks "Do you have a husband who will be joining you?"

"HELL no", Ian replied then looked around, "I mean no there is no husband. Well, theres no wife for that matter, my former position as High General of Highports armed forces didn't allow time for relationships. But as for this, so called obscenity, I suggest you not say that in Dragonsreach. The Queen's wife isn't a very tolerant woman. Actually General Jennifer Jozan is engaged to the First Knight, Lea Salvies, although in Jennies case I understand. She had been captured by slavers as a child by men, sold into slavery to a man and brutally raped by that man. She finally killed him and made her escape from Skullkingdom. I can understand why she wouldn't like men. To be honest I don't thing the subject came up until the Queen's marriage and her father, who's the King of Highport, was a bit surprised himself, but he accepted it.

The servant falls silent, leading the ambassador to a well appointed four room suite. "This should do for now, m'lord. The Queendom of Dragonsreach is, of course, welcome to estalish a full scale embassy building in the capital." He bows and heads off down the hall.

Meanwhile, a couple of trolls arrive, carrying Ian's luggage. They set it gently on the floor and bow before heading off.

With a light sigh, Elaine nods and takes Catherine's hand. The two women make their way back to the queen's room and shut the door quietly behind them. Several hours are spent in hushed, private conversation.

Lord Robert makes his way out to the stables. Sighing a little to himself, he selects a fine white stallion and has the grooms prepare it to be ridden. Mounting, the baron rides towards the nearby woods, trying to get his mind on nature.

Queen Eleanor moves easily through the halls, looking for the high queen's study. As she approaches, the tosses aside her cloak, revealing the flowing gown of silver she wears beneath it. Nodding faintly to the guards, the Ailil queen knocks lightly.

Ian looks around. "What in the name of hell am I supposed to do with this?" he asked no one. He had spent over five hundred of his six hundred and forty-seven years in military service. He was accustomed to a small room, a hard bed, a simple desk, a bureau and a small bookcase. He pushed down on the plush bed groaning at the anticipated pain that would come from sleeping on something that soft then glancing toward the doorway pulled the covers onto the hard floor and smiling looked in the other three rooms.

One is a study, the other a bath, and the third a lounge.

"Come." Corrina speaks curtly at the knock. Eleanor smiles slightly before slipping in., curtseying. "What is it?" the high queen asks curtly.

Eleanor looks down somberly. "Your Majesty, we were merely here to renew our bonds of fealty. We have heard of the contempt for the laws of this land being displayed in some of Your Imperial Majesties lands and we are simply appalled. Wintermore stands for High Queen Corrina and the law of nature."

Corrina nods a little. "Thank you. We will let you know when the matter is settled." With a bow of her head, Eleanor slips back into the hallway.

Ian closes off the other three rooms and notes the points of entry and egress to the lone room he's in, and that far to big for his liking and more than one way in is to many. He wonders if his itinerary will be held up and makes a mental note to check with the King about funding for an ambassadorial building, praying it's not going to be some huge affair. He sat down on his bed, grabbing a suitcase and taking out a quill and ink and starting noting his observations thus far. If no itinerary showed up before he was done he would ask someone about it.

After completing his observations he opened the case again and took out several sheets of paper. Ariel had outlined his duties as ambassador and something had stuck in his mind. After a moment he found it. He had to set up the itinerary and the meetings. He would have to find out who to talk to so he could schedule things. He glanced over the progression of diplomacy. 1)Peace accord, 2)Trade agreements (If possible, if not three may still be a possibility), 3) Alliance. He nodded and stood up, stepping over the bedding he had dragged to the floor and went out to find someone to see who he needed to talk to.

Eleanor glides through the halls, nodding to the ambassador. "Good evening, lord. I do not believe I have had the pleasure. Are you new to Her Imperial Majesty's court?"

Ian runs an eye over the woman, years of assessing a potential threat to hard to ignore. "I am at that, Lady", he responds bowing to her, "arrived only today. I was, in fact looking to set up meetings for diplomatic talks and was wondering to whom I might speak concerning the matter."

Eleanor laughs lightly. "That is the question. Tell me, is that what is really on your mind, General St. James? Your queen must have some interest in what happens here today. After all, diplomacy may be diplomacy, but in her heart of hearts she cannot ignore the fact that the woman with whom she thinks to ally herself views your queen's own sacred and loving matrimony as disgusting and criminal. That must bother you. If I were you, it would..." Blushing slightly, Eleanor holds up her hand. "I shouldn't have said anything. You can't talk about internal affairs. I would talk to Princess Samantha. She's the one person who has assuredly been told nothing of what has happened and thus has her time free for this business. She's likely to be found out at play."

"In actuality I represent Highport, Lady. I'm representing Dragonsreach at the moment as all her people are busy with the terrorist attack. So as far as internal matters all I can say is that the King I represent has no law one way or the other concerning the matter, and as far as the Queen is concerned she cares only about the opinion of her people. And that opinion is heavily in her favor. If your Queen wishes no relations with Dragonsreach because of her position on marital acceptance, well, that would be her loss." With that St. James returned to his room, not presently in the mood to talk about diplomacy.

Eleanor smiles brightly after the man was out of sight. Swiftly, she moved down towards Elaine and Catherine's room, knocking lightly. After a moment, Catherine's voice speaks. "Come."

Slipping in, Eleanor looks around the room to see her fellow queen nowhere in sight. "Good evening, Countess. IWe had hoped to speak to your royal fiance."

Catherine blinks once, seeing who it is, before she rises to curtsey. Her looks up at Eleanor, her face the epitome of suspicion. "Her Majesty is bathing. Is there something I could help you with?"

Eleanor nods. "You can accept our welcome into Imperial Royalty. You are to wed a queen, after all. We like to think of Elaine as a dear friend of ours and Iwewould like to think of you the same way. That was horribly unfair the way the High Queen treated you both. Love conquers all, doesn't it? And I'm sure it will conquer these archaic laws." Leaning forward, she gives Catherine a hug and a kiss on each cheek before she absconds into the hallway. "Tell your lady that we wish to speak to her at her earliest convenience and that she is assured of our support."

St. James sat down on a chair, still not having set anything up. He could see the woman's point of view on the one hand, yet who was she to judge others? Had he judged Lauralin? Certainly, but not for her choice of partners. He judged her for what she had become. He admired the reason for her choice but hated the thing she had turned into. Would he have judged her if he had to deal with only with her choice in partners? As he sat there and asked himself the question he found that he couldn't answer it. He sighed and decided to rest instead, it had been a long trip after all. He got undressed, unsheathed his sword and laid it beside him as he lay down on the covers on the ground.

Later that evening, Catherine slipped from the chambers she shared with Elaine, wandering down darkened halls. The woman slipped out a servant's door of the palace, smiling up at the stars. Barefoot, she stepped out onto the fresh, dewy grass. Catherine loved nature. She loved the gentle light of the stars and the moon, the fresh feel of grass between her toes, the nightly music of the crickets. Sometimes she felt that each one played just for her, especially recently, as she was a woman in love. Lovely feet moved through the rustling, green lawns, beginning to run lightly. The sidhe countess twirled some, feeling the air on her soft skin, thinking only of the magic of her life with Elaine. This thought brought her up short for she had come outside in part to escape Elaine's immediate company. She might well be in love but she didn't like how grumpy her lady lover had been since the presentation in court. It was true that they had essentially been insulted, degraded, that their love had been made to seem less true and pure than others. But why should that matter so much? They had each other, didn't they? Catherine sighed lightly, leaning back against a tree.

After a few hours of fitful sleep St. James gave up trying to get any further rest. He lit a candle, took out a piece of parchment and began to write a missive to the King...

My Liege,

It is with heavy heart that I send you message. It would seem that relations with this nation may be difficult if not impossible. They seem to hold certain customs to heart and judge other kingdoms by the customs they follow. A particular incident that occured this day, the very first day of my arrival, is certainly an indication. I believe any alliance with Dragonsreach is certainly out of the question and any alliance with Highport seems highly unlikely. I am saddened by this due to the fact that I have never failed you before. I think it may be in our best interest to send another in my stead. At the very least we may be able to keep a neutral stance. I must regretfully inform you that it would be in the best interests of both nations to remove me from this position.

Life and Loyalty,
Diplomatic attache
High General, retired
Ian St. James.

He placed the letter in what appeared to be a simple scroll tube which teleported the sheet to Highport. That done he left his room to go out into the night. Once outside he found a branch of approximate weight and length and proceeded to practice the intricate maneuvers of swordsmanship with an expert hand. Never one to deceive himself, he knew that he was not the best in Highport, nor in Dragonsreach for that matter, but he was a soldier, with centuries of experiance.

Not far from where Ian practices, Catherine leans against the tree. Suddently, she feels cord across her neck and lets out a sudden gasp, eyes widening. As the cord tightens, her hands rise, struggling and clawing for a hold on the thin cord but with no luck. Legs kick wildly but at nothing. Feebly gasping for breath that will not come, the squirming countess finally decides to try to make a noise, any noise, in the hope that someone might here. Reaching up, she firmly takes a grasp of a branch covered in crisp autumn leaves, yanking with all her might. The snapping branch and crinkling leaves make a snap followed by a loud rustling. In the silence of the night air, it can easily be heard in the nearby fields. After that, the woman's struggles begin to weaken. She begins to wonder if her life really is at an end, regretting having left irritated with her love. Her fading body sinks down to sit against the tree as her legs weaken, the assailant hidden behind the tree trunk kneeling along with it so as not to lose the grip he has on the young woman's fading life.

Ian drops the branch as he hears the loud snapping sound and moves toward it untying the peace strings. When he gets close enough to see the woman he moves more quickly, not as yet truly realizing that an attacker is on the other side of the tree, "Lady?", he asks as he approaches, but now he's close enough to realize that something more sinister is at hand and draws the slim elven blade. "HOLD YOUR MOMENT!", he shouts, more to attract the attention of the guard than to expect the attacker to actually stay and surrender.

The man behind the tree breaks and runs, darting into the woods. Catherine gasps wildly, flailing about on the ground like a landed fish, trying to just get air into her lungs. She doesn't say anything. It doesn't seem she can yet. A couple troll guards come running at the screams, as a loud horn is sounded. The first two or three trolls rush into the woods, drawing great swords as they enter. "Halt, in the name of Her Imperial Majesty!" The assailant, however, does no such thing.

One of the other trolls kneels next to Catherine, looking her over briefly. "Fetch the healer!" Another great blue warrior moves back towards the palace at the clear order.

Meanwhile, another troll, one who seems absolutely calm, looks to Ian. "Pardon me, my lord, but I must ask. What exactly happened here?"

Ian turns to the troll. "I had been in my quarters, unable to sleep. I came outside for a bit of practice, I can show you where if need be, when I heard a loud snapping sound and a great deal of rustling. I came to investigate when I saw the Lady leaning against the tree. At first I thought her only in distress and approached to see if I could render aid. Once closer I saw the she was under attack. That's when I drew and advanced, shouting out." He stood stock still and at attention through the entire report and remained at attention, awaiting anything further that might be required of him.

The troll nods curtly. "Noted. You may return to your quarters. We will handle this matter."

Another troll hoists Catherine up, tossing her over his shoulder. The leader arches a brow a little but says nothing, as the giant being begins to move back towards the palace.

St. James returned to his quarters, checked the three empty rooms and the window locks then pulled the covers back onto the bad and set his luggage under the blankets. Then he drew his sword and sat down in a dark corner and fell into a light sleep.

Countess Catherine sat in the dungeon, manacles on her wrists and ankles. She was a countess and the victim of a crime. Still, the captain of the guard had dealt this way with her, saying he suspected she was involved in criminal dealings. She didn't know if the high queen knew or not. Elaine, however, did know. Storming through the halls, the queen's eyes blazed like the fire of the sun. The guards at the door to the dngeons were trolls, armed and well trained. Nonetheless, one lightning blow doubled one over, clutching his bleeding stomach before his partner knew there was an attack. As the second guard turned, words of magic left Elaine's lips and the troll flew backwards, crashing into a nearby wall. A heavy sword soon shattered the manacles as Elaine took Catherine's hand, rushing for the stables as horns and shouts spread alarm throughout the palace. Leaping onto their horses, the two lovers rode off into the night.

Meanwhile, Corrina sat in her study, her face pale at the news. Sighing, she spoke briefly. "Very well. We will not forbid marriages of this sort in Folorin or any other kingdom which might so rule. No one is to pursue Queen Elaine nor shall there be formal punishment to her people. She acted from love. Yet, she did not act from loyalty. Folorin shall have no more aid from the high court and we shall be strict and swift for tribute. We neither need nor desire her support for our reign, nor do we feel the need to reward savagery and indiscretion with favor."

Eleanor stepped back into the shadows, her magics taking her to her own palace in Wintermore. She smiles to herself. All went as planned.

Fin