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Perfume & Iron - Nihil & Retro

Nihilistic_Impact

Nihilistic_Impact

Brigadista
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Aug 14, 2009
It was the sixth year into the reign of Prince Emir Motavakel, honour unto his name for all the years of his life and beyond, and already he had brought to his people, the Devleti, many great victories and had gained for them a most exotic and rare gift. A rare gift that stood before the aging Master of Spies and Vizier, Timur. To him was the task of inspection, to see that no thorns were hidden in the petals of feminine beauty.

His eyes narrowed as he sat, deep blue eyes of darkest shade drove like spikes into her. Lips pursed and he chewed upon them as flaw upon raging flaw flared up in his mind, only to be shattered and thrown down as he came back to the whole of the picture before him. With a slow drawn breath he let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Welcome to Alamut, I trust your journey here has not been too strenuous."
 
It had been a long journey or, rather, felt like a long journey to one who had never even been allowed outside of the walls of her guarded city. Every inch of her was sore from travel and she was agitated beyond belief. They came like a thick wave of locust, destroying everything they touched. She had been forced into a cart herself, bound at her ankles and wrists, and taken away like cattle.

She stood before the man rather disheveled in appearance. Her normally silky blue black hair was a storm of wild locks. Pale green eyes, normally wide and almond shaped, were fixed upon him in vicious slits. Her light caramel skin was now covered in scrapes and bruising from the fight she put up.

Tianna was a woman of power and was not one to go down easily, it seemed. Full lips pursed at the question. “As you see,” she replied. Her voice had a roll at the edges and showed clearly that this language was not her first but she was rather fluent, “I have had quite the lovely journey. Your men are the kindness in the continent.”

Clearly she was being sarcastic.
 
Rising from a dark wood chair of simple design Timur rose to his full height. He was not a man of impressive stature; but he was sturdily built with an iron in his bones and a weariness of the world pressed upon his ever feature. In his eyes and in his step though was a cunning and subtle flow of a predator on the hunt. Wearing little more then a tunic and turban his only adornment was a finely wrought length of chain, a chain to bind, a chain to command, a chain to destroy.

She was battered and bruised and still full of the vinegar, the journey had not dampened her spirits. The lovely Tianna would be a fine challenge for the Prince Emir, and all of a sudden a game of sorts came into his mind. The Prince Emir was a great general; but could he protect his own court?

"Quite, you have not been brought before me broken and set asunder, though turmoil would seize you at any moment the way you stand. Do you know why you stand here?"
 
Her vestment hung from her body loosely. They had not cared to treat it with kindness or regard it as the garb of a holy woman. Holes had ripped along the sides and where she had been laying down against the hard wooden floor of the carriage, it had been rubbed nearly translucent.

Looking at her it was clear that she had been treated roughly, however, she fared much better than the other women of her order. The High Priestess had been killed and the other girls had all been beaten until the life was nearly gone from them.

As innocent as she was to the ways of men it was clear what she was intended for. “I am to be a pet of sorts. It is disgusting to treat a holy woman in such a way. An affront of the goddess of my land; for we are hers and hers alone.”

Her bottom lip stiffened and she threw back her shoulders proudly.
 
"There is much to learn in submission."

Flippantly and casually he tossed out his response as though it was something to be scattered to the winds without care or thought. With strides he carried his shape about her, inspecting her closer then what he could from his seat. Her flesh was not much concealed and bruises were dotting, clothes would need to be replaced and the body healed.

Nodding his head he took a step backwards.

"But there is still more one can do; you can give your life to many things, even when one is a slave."

Moving back to his chair he resumed sitting and gave a short bark of a laugh. Her demeanor and pride struck him as a valuable tool not to be squandered, and something he could make use of. If only she were willing.

"Tell me of your Goddess?"
 
Perhaps for him there was something to submission but she had been taught that not even a king could usurp her divine prowess. She had, after all, been the High Priestess’ acolyte and when she finally passed into the great fields of the afterlife.

Beneath his gaze she fidgeted slightly but her shoulders remained back and her head was still held high. She did not care for what she could do as a slave. For she had no intentions of ever being one. She would still fight him and whoever she was intended for until the day she died. When he laughed at her, she flinched. When anyone laughed at her before she was able to give them a quick smack about the ears and chastise them. Here all she could do was seethe.

“My Goddess is a Goddess of life. She revels in all things of the Earth for everything is her child. My Goddess is also a Goddess of the Divine Plains. Through her we are able to part the mists that cloud our mind and reach true enlightenment. She is a Goddess who enjoys watching her children and wants them to thrive and be happy.” She lowered her voice some and glared at him. “She is also a very vengeful sort of being to any who harm her own. I would hope that whatever gods you pray to are just as powerful as she because she will show no mercy.”
 
"Mercy is for the weak, and gods and goddesses are petty and frail."

Blasphemy his words; but they would never carry beyond these walls and the captive was worthless as a witness. Leaning forward he narrowed his eyes, there was a core within her that could be tempered for what he had in mind; but as she was she would break and not bend when tested. It would have to be a slow process.

"What if you could have your revenge, at your hand?"

His words were designed to put her off guard, to set her in an unusual position where she could lie and be truthful, to draw her out into a conspiracy that had been born this very evening. Timur, had always been loyal; but age was slowly dragging him out of the game of thrones. All he had left was lies and deceit.

"Do you know why you stand before me, and me alone?"
 
The young woman tilted her head. Who was this man to offer her the chance at revenge? Was he really in the position to or was this a game to find out if she would attempt something against the Prince.

Confusion and fear danced in her eyes. She did not trust it. The men in that land were barbaric to her; their ways cruel and unusual. Even now she did not understand why she was brought to a man, alone, without a fresh change of garments and in such rough condition. A tongue came out to lick dry lips as she considered this all.

“I do not know why I would be brought alone to you.”
 
Her response was weak, filled with ignorance; but her eyes had said enough and it made him smile. All that he had to do was cultivate that mind tell it was a weapon of some cunning.

"Are you really so simple? You, a priestess, captured by your enemies and brought to the home of the Prince Emir Motavakel to whom in your words you are to be made a pet, and you can't figure out why I would be here to great you?"

With a soft lick of his lips, he readied himself for an interesting conversation.

"Do you not know who I am?"
 
How could she know who he was? Even if she had been told, she had not paid any sort of attention to the words of those men. Most of what they had said was hateful and lewd. Consciously she had chosen not to listen. Though she garnered he must have been a man of some prowess within the kingdom. At first she thought he simply inspected the slaves but apparently there was more to him.

Her lips pursed. “I hardly care what position you hold. At first I thought you were merely a handler that checked goods coming in for any flaws or any taint but if it is something else I simply just do not care.”

She was tired. She was hungry. She had suffered greatly ; her people had been nearly annihilated. He expected her to play guessing games when all she wanted to do was rest up, heal, and plot her revenge. Then again he had offered her the chance at just that earlier.
 
"I think you should."

His words contained the faintest glimmer of glee; and he smiled as though there was a most amusing joke to be shared if only she were bright enough to grasp it. Once more he was out of his seat, crossing the floor quickly he came right up to her and stared into her eyes. The slightest of distances separated them.

"Power begets power, and I can beget power to you."

Just as quickly he moved backwards and preened a little.

"I am the Master of Spies, and you could become a most valuable asset."
 
Her eyes widened a little bit as it finally dawned on her. Even in her half dazed mind she could see where he was angling at then. Long eyelashes fluttered as she turned her gaze from him. There was much to consider. Tianna considered all of this a moment. Finally her shoulders rolled forward in a sign of defeat. She was simply exhausted and knew that she could not verbally go toe to toe with anyone at that moment.

“I am listening,” was her reply. Her voice was soft but her eyes had a severe edge to them. This was a rather precarious position she found herself in and she rather got the impression if she did not follow his schemes, she would find herself in much more trouble than if she did. The last thing she needed was more difficulties at that time.
 
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