He scoffed, glancing over at the tiger. “That is why I am allowing it to stay with you.” He murmured, his eyes narrowing at the beast. Rolif seemed to feel the same way. The stag nuzzled Nor’s shoulder. He pushed his nose away softly. A flow of silver spun words fell from his lips, a tongue known only to Fae kind. The stag seemed to relax.
“I won’t even be in my tent.” He added. “I have work to be done tonight. Besides, we give those who wander in the upmost hospitality.” A sly grin slipped onto his face, a knowing one that threatened to spill some unspoken secret. “Zar treats everyone kindly at first.”
Amira tilted her chin up, raising an eyebrow almost regally at him despite the way her hands couldn't stop moving, fiddling and playing and plucking invisible strings of air. "The kindest and best hospitality you could lend me is letting me sleep under the stars. Besides, Malakai doesn't fit in most tents, and we don't leave each other's sides. I'm sure you of all people would get that." She motioned between Zar and the stag next to him. "He's my second in command in our two-creature army." He was also her sole companion, the only one she hadn't left behind or scared off or split ways with, and her confidante. In many ways her best friend. She had raised him from a cub when she was a teenager, and he had awarded her the same favor.
The male snorted but waved his hand anyways. A few jeweled rings sparkled on his fingers. “Anywhere in the camp is yours to sleep. However, we would advise you not to go telling everyone we’re here.” He replied lazily, patting Rolif’s shoulder when the stag blew out a puff of hot air. “Yes I do understand that. Rolif is my companion. The first creature I met after I was thrown out of my kingdom.” A lie. He ran away. “A gentle and yet bold creature. Rolif does me a lot of good.”
Nor ducked into the large military tent he called his own, gesturing for her to follow. Rolif trotted off around the side, where one large flap had been cut out for the creature to enter and lay.
There was a woman sitting outside the tent, her graying hair and wrinkled face showing she was well beyond her youth. The woman struggled to her feet, shuffling inside the tent after Nor. “Zar. We need more fabrics to repair the tents.” She crooned, giving Amira the side eye.
“Take anything from the barrel.” He replied softly, smiling kindly at the woman.
Amira did follow him, but she stopped in the opening of the tent, not fully entering. Malakai sat just outside, intelligent and predatory eyes watching everyone and anything passing by, ears flicking occasionally. They were back to back again. A well-oiled machine, partners in defending each other. For a year now, they'd helped each other survive situations that should have killed them, laying their lives on the line and giving them over entirely. That tiger was her best friend, and she, his.
Now, as Amira watched the woman who'd side eyed her with a wary curiosity, she was full on playing an invisible instrument, a silent song caused by the experienced movement of her fingers. Whatever she was playing, it didn't take an expert to know she had to be good at it. "Are these tents made of multiple different fabrics? Or a specific one?" She asked curiously, tilting her head as she addressed the woman, not Zar. In fact, she seemed to have managed to forget they were even talking.
Zar grabbed the crest off his desk and stared at it, letting the woman and Amira speak. “They were originally made of the same material. Now they are made of many different fabrics.” Replied the woman. Her voice was slightly accented with something heavy and rough that worsened with her age. “We have to keep fixing them. Weather takes a toll. As do the fires and weapons of armies.”
Amira was quiet for a moment, tapping her foot along to the silent song she was playing, before speaking again. "Multiple fabrics. Do you have any Meraikina-skin?" Meraikina were a type of sea creature who's skin was often used for it's water proof abilities. They had almost been overfished at one point, but regulations had been put in place by most countries and kingdoms, and the species was once again flourishing. Without giving anyone a chance to answer, she spoke again. "It's a bit tough to sew, because it's so thick, but if you know a few tricks it's easy. Your guild steals, right?" The last question seemed like such a random change in subject, without any explanation, but was in fact entirely related.
“We used the most of it for the tents people sleep under. Yes. We steal. We steal to live and to help. The royals ruin this country. Go to war too often for their own good. My country is gone because of them.” She huffed.
“Shah, calm down.” Nor spoke up, wandering over to the two women. He offered a large patch of fabric to the woman - now identified as Shah - and offering it to her.
"She's not wrong." Amira said, shrugging a shoulder before looking back to Shah. "You aren't wrong. So, you've used up almost all of it?" There was something in the way she spoke, like she had some sort of plan formulating, something she was debating mentioning. You have no reason to. Sure, but she also had no reason not to. And any chance to mess something up for her parents…
Nordali sighed. “That is why we are a guild. We are here to unite those lost or wronged by the royals.” He lifted the crest in his hand, then turned it to the fire outside.
Shah glanced at her leader and nodded. “Yes, we are nearly out of fabrics to use. This tarp is the last of it.” She held up the fabric just given to her and began to fold it up.
"There are plenty of those, for sure." Amira muttered under her breath, before perking up. "I have some information that might be of use, then. An offering, since I'm being allowed temporary refuge for the night. Staying for free means debt, and debt is at least number tiev on my list of things I hate." Another slip into her home tongue. Meraikina was a term more used by her people, though it was known by others. And tiev was straight up a word in her language, the number three.
Nor tensed. He instantly recognized the language seeing as how he had to learn it for his wife-to-be’s sake. “There will be no debt, not if you’d like to join us. We have room enough.” The crest was thrown into the fire. He watched it burn with a glare. “We’re better off together anyways, don’t you agree? A guild of unwanted people.”
Shah grinned. “Much better, Zar. We’re all good together. Much better.” She purred.
Amira flicked an eyebrow up as she watched Zar watch the crest burn, something like understanding flickering in her gaze. She knew that look. She'd worn it herself. Whatever country the crest originated from, he wasn't a fan of it, obviously. "Are you saying there's no debt only if I join you? Because I'm not quite the kind of person you want me joining your people. I'm a bit too much of a handful, I hear."
(Sorry, dinner.)
“As long as you don’t kill anyone in this camp and pitch in every now and then, yes, you’ll be welcomed. Handful or not, you’d be welcomed.” He turned away from the open flame and clickd his teeth in a slight annoyance at the memory of his father.
“You could come and go as you pleased, and people tend to bug you less when you mention our guild.”
((You're good dude, don't worry! I just got done with dinner myself))
"Name dropping doesn't always ward off shitty people." Amira pointed out, shifting on her feet. Like she was somehow impatient standing right there. Taking three steps to the side, she stopped, and the shifting ceased as she continued playing her song. "But you know, it might be nice. To have a place to fall back. As long as I'm not shackled here." Her strange, and slightly familiar, eyes flickered around for a moment, before landing back on Zar. "I might leave sooner rather than later though. I've got a bit of fun planned, and it sure would be a waste to skip over it. A once in a lifetime aligning of the stars, my 'ukht-" Sister. "-would have called it."
(Thanks. Hope your dinner was good!)
“Ah that’s also true. I’m sure a few people would kill to get to me regardless of who I was hanging around.” He replied with a growl, his teeth clenching. Father, do you hear how awful that sounds? “You won’t be tied down. Drop in whenever you need to. And cause trouble outside of the camp. But if you miss where we will be moving camp to, don’t expect to get it from just anyone.”
Shah glanced between the two before she slowly shuffled towards the door. “I will leave now. I have to fix tent roofs.” She mumbled, accepting the help of a few men in tattered clothing. The whole group seemed battered and tired, a few of the wounded now coming out that the coast was clear.
Amira's eyes were now trained outside the tent, watching the people that moved about to set to work fixing the tents. Her hands had stopped, now fiddling with her belt and the things on it. "And what if I never do find your camp again? Or what if I say yes to joining, and just never show my face anywhere any of you can see it? What are the rules and regulations, beyond just 'don't kill anyone'? Am I required to pay a tax of anything I steal?" The questions came at a rapid-fire pace, half just her nature, and half a habit she had picked up to throw royals and advisors off their game when she needed to. Most people couldn't even register that many questions.
Nor’s eyes narrowed at the questions, his brain picking up on as much as it could. “If you never return, we’ll assume you’re a traitor to us as well. You’d be better off dead but we won’t hunt you down unless some royals come around to look for us. Rules are simple enough. Don’t kill anyone, tell anyone, or slack off. This guild isn’t strict until it comes to our whereabouts and who knows about them. You will have to help out by giving up a portion of what you steal, the rest is yours. Fabrics are always needed around so those you may have to give up.”
"Oh, perfect. I don't need fabric anyways, it's more about the ethics behind the whole thing." Amira said offhandedly, nodding for an extended period of time. Even if she sort of walked and stood like she was still a princess, she definitely didn't act or talk like one. A princess sat still, her mother had told her once, eyes casting a disappointed look over her plate down the dining table. And yet, Amira had never been able to sit still. She wasn't sure why, but she'd long since learned that trying to keep still was hell. "Makes sense. You don't have to worry about royals, I happen to not like them. The only thing really worrisome is my memory." She tapped the side of her head a few times, what looked like a spool of wire in her hand. "I forget. Easy. All the time, even important things. Like I said, not the best person to have on your team."
Nor watched her, his eyes trailing along her frame. Her stance was familiar, the way she moved and talked was familiar. He was starting to grow weary of it. “We all struggle with our own things.” He mumbled, gesturing around the room as he flashed her a grin. “Do you notice anything missing from this room?” He asked, willing to tell her one of his own weaknesses to gain some trust.
“No iron. None whatsoever. The reason? I am partially Fae. It burns me.” He made a face at that. “It’s incredibly hard for me to find weapons and armor that won’t harm me without risking the lives of my men.”
((Lmao everyone grows weary of her. That, or it pisses them off))
He's playing the trust game. It was instantaneous, the realization. For someone who grew up around people who did nothing but play games, she could spot them easily, even if they weren't actually games being played. "Pure iron, or can it be mixed with another metal?" Amira asked, her own curiosity getting the better of her. She shouldn't buy into games, she knew that, but she really couldn't help herself sometimes. That might have been her fatal flaw. Intuition and curiosity at the same time made for a deadly combination, whether for her or for other people. "And why, exactly, are you telling me this?"
(Oooooof XD That’s funny actually.)
“Pure iron hurts the worse and does the most damage.” He replied, his fingers twitching towards his shoulders. A shudder ran through his body. “Mixed metals with iron in them don’t hurt as bad. And if the iron is little to none, then I hardly notice it at all.” The tall male wandered over to his jewelry collection, grinning at the many stones and metals he possessed. “The earrings and jewelry I wear now is meant to ‘ward off Fae.’ But they didn’t use enough iron to ward anything off.” He snickered before turning back to her, lowering his head respectively.
“I’m sure you already know why I tell you these things.” He replied, a glint in his eyes that could only be described as mischievous. “We all play this game, now don’t we?”
Bad memory or not, everything Zar said was filed away on the off chance she would be able to remember it. Who knew, maybe it would come back. “I guess we do.” Amira agreed, arching an eyebrow with a strange elegance. I should get my eyebrow pierced. A stud or two in one of them. That would be fun. “That’s how the world turns, ain’t it? Games are played, whether you win or lose?”
Zar seemed happy with her response as he moved to her side and gently bowed. “Such a smart young woman, tell me, where did you run from, if I may ask?” His lips parted in a wicked grin, but he didn’t seem threatening. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The weeds and grass around seemed to perk up, and lean in towards Nordali as he spoke.
"The from doesn't matter so much as the next." Amira said vaguely, slipping the wire away and pulling out some odd vial full of a golden shimmery substance that seemed to change from liquid to powder and back again. She tossed it in the air once before catching it, then fiddling again. "But if you really must know, my home was at one point the Kingdom of Kehlaia. A beautiful country with shit ass government and royalty. Prophets bless."
Nor froze, eyeing her up and down at her words. He was too shocked to really remember the vial and it’s contents. “You’re not wrong. They really are one hell of a kingdom in the worst way.” He growled, standing up straight. I was a Valdorian. Not anymore.” He scowled at the name in his mouth and stood up straight. “Arrogant bastards they all were.” He leaned against the table and reached up to undo the slice of fabric holding his hair back. “As much as I love the Fae race and all, they really aren’t as amazing as everyone makes them out to be.”
"The only decent royal was probably the youngest princess of my kingdom. I hear she was a sweet person." Amira mused, shifting half a step away from him at this new information. Valdorian. He was from the same kingdom as her husband-to-be was. "But arrogance is a trait common in those of higher class, don't you think?" Papa wasn't too bad, a good man at heart. But he fell victim to my mother and his advisors. I just hope Rana doesn't suffer the same fate. "I've met a few Fae in my lifetime, and they aren't the worst, at the very least. Now, Turians? I've never met any people who have all been so unfailingly horrible." They didn't like her or her people, to say the least. And tended to have a…hostile view on her being anywhere near where they were.
He snickered and shook his head. “I’ve heard she’s ‘beautiful, talented, and bright’ but isn’t every princess shown that way?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair before redoing the ponytail he had it in before. “Was it Her they were going to marry off to the prince of my kingdom? What was his name? Nordali?” His name felt strange in his mouth, especially said in such a carefree way. “Arrogant bastard he is too. Ran away to escape the marriage. I don’t blame him. A forced marriage never ends well.”
"They are, but she really was." A small slip up. Sort of. It was odd, the intensity and knowing in her voice, but she came across as so flighty and strange that if one wanted to, they could pass it off as just a weird thing. "No, wasn't that the eldest princess? She was next in line, but as a daughter, she couldn't inherit the throne. So it would make sense to try and get an heir as quick as possible, since there was no chance of the Sultan and his wife conceiving a son." She eyed the vial in her hand, holding it up to catch the light with it, the contents shimmering brightly. "They don't. They create resentment, more often than not. Especially towards kids born of that union."
He narrowed his eyes. “You sound like you know her personally.” The half-Fae growled, watching her carefully. “Were the princesses and royals familiar with the public?” Then his body language shifted back to something friendlier. “Ah, of course. We’re you a servant treated unfairly? I wouldn’t be surprised. You may have the body language and poise of a noble woman - which threw me off at first - but you do not speak and act like a noble woman. It’s not uncommon to see that in servants and the lesser folk.”
He pushed himself off the desk and faced her, peering down at her. “Those children are forced as well, are they not?” He reached out to push a strand of her hair out of her face. The action was cold and it almost seemed as if Nor could get away with touching anyone he wanted. “You are quite fair. You must have been a treasured servant.”
A servant. That worked. She could absolutely work with that. "Yeah. I swapped between kitchen work and waiting on the princesses. The youngest was sweet, but the eldest was….a mess, to say the least. Resentful herself." His comment about the children of arranged marriages being forced struck a cord, and she was about to speak to agree with him, when he reached out and brushed back one of her messy curls.
Amira froze.
The princess, who had not ceased moving since the moment she had met him, since the moment she had entered the camp, went completely still, her expression drawing closed like the shutters on a window, blocking out everything and keeping everything in. "My people treasured beauty, yes." She said, her voice cold and empty and odd-sounding, distant, like she wasn't fully speaking as herself, but rather withdrawing and relying on the motions and habit of speaking.
