Tribute and Dowry

[richiej]

He sat well atop his warhorse. Having lead 10,000 Kutrigars out of south central Europe to claim tribute from the Danube tribes, pressing forth with 9,000 riders strong, Ozira now had crossed the Rhine upon the threshold of the Frankish Kingdoms. The Bavarians had fallen already, leading the remaining Franks to unite under the Kingdom of Neustria. As he marched his riders north towards Paris, messages came that their king would make tribute of his daughter to Ozira so that the advance of the Avars would stop.

Oriza sent his acceptance of marriage back to the king, he would gladly accept this daughter of the mighty king of the Franks and, as dowry, he would take half their kingdoms. This would include the already conquered Bavaria, half of Austria, all of Burgundy and portions of Aquitaine. He did not wait for a response, but took his war camp to the gates of Paris itself, where the defending Frankish armies were holed up in her walls. He waited several days and on the eve of his attack, the king sent word that the terms would be accepted, withholding all of Austria and Aquitaine. Oriza cared little for either, but rather only placed them on the table to show how much power he really had. This daughter of the King, tribute for Avar and the holding of Bavaria would do well for this conquest. Matters were already calling his attention back with the Eastern Roman Empire, tributes had stopped flowing from Constantinople.

Thus arose the morning of the marriage. Oriza had his best furs, bringing those exotic pelts given him by Saracen emissaries, that of the cheetah. This was drapped over his ring mail, symbolizing his relationship to the animal spirits. Oriza was leader of the Ayi, the leading clan of the Avar whose animal spirit was the bear. He did not forgo his ancestors and his lineage, he wore a pendant necklace adorned with bear claws for those that he had personally hunted. He was of the Bozmak, those legendary Avar, marked by the Kasis, or priests, for their naturally strong association with their animal totem. Outside the Avar, it was but rumor that the Bozmak could take the shape of their spirit animals. Oriza knew the truth of this.

His mount was dark of hair and mane, it clod its large hooves into the muddy ground of the hill he claimed for his marriage. A morning fog rose out of the grounds on the field before him, spreading out thin at the top of the hill but thickening near the gates of Paris. Oriza was a tall man, pushing six feet in height and full of muscles. What battle scars and nicks showed were worn well on his tan skin. His hands and forearms were bear, exposing more testament to his experience on the battlefield. As he awaited the contingent from Neustria, he rubbed over the scars on his left arm. He’d allowed representatives from each of the Frankish Kingdoms to attend this ceremony and celebration, if they so choose it, as foreign dignitaries in a special pavilion reserved for them. They would not be allowed to partake of the customary dancing and fighting that general ensued during Avarian fetes. Only time would tell which of their leaders might brave a night with the barbarians as he claimed his tribute and his new wife.

 

[loneiysong]

When she was given the news, she was not happy. Well, not happy was putting it lightly in the extreme. To be married to a barbarian that she did not know and did not love. Some brute. She constantly thought that if she were but a boy, things would turn out differently. Then she would rage through contrysides and demand what she wanted. She woke on the day of her marriage. It had been several days since she last ate. Hoping that if the king saw her wasting away, he would think twice and fight for his daughter. But today was proof he cared naught for his only daughter in a family full of sons. Leaning up, she rubbed her eyes and groaned and looked out at the cold scape of winter outside her window. As if sensing she was awake, the king stormed in and ordered her to eat before she dressed.

She just grinned a malicious grin to the king. "Or else what? Hmm? Or you will beat me? I am pretty sure that the big Brute Oriza will not be pleased with bruises on me that he did not place himself." She threw her head high and stood up. The king growled and turned leaving her in peace. She looked at the mirror and put her hands on her hips. She took in her form. She was never the shrinking violet. She was beautiful, but not one of the thin wispy wraiths that she saw in other kingdoms. She had a form that, in her opinion, was more suited for outside riding horses and sword fighting. But those were boy activities. She enjoyed reading books. That was one of the guilty pleasures she had. And only one of the few things she packed for herself.

The maids came forward and began to fuss over her hair and put make up on her so the dark circles from her nights of sleeplessness, would not be seen. Then came the corset. She gasped as she was strapped securely into the white leather. She bit her lip as she was slipped into a blue wedding dress with an ivory satin cloak to keep her warm. Princess Brae was far from desireable to any of the available suitors in the kingdom. She was too independent of a thinker and that scared many men.

Brae's skin was fair and her hair was golden. Her lips were painted red. When she was ready, she was guided to her own steed. It was a white mare with white mane. She climbed on top without help and after a glare from her father, she rode side saddle. She sighed and urged her horse forward as she raised her chin. Soon she would see the barbarians on the hill. She frowned. Her blue eyes as cold as the surrounding snow drifts. When she arrived, she smiled and slid off her horse rather than waiting for a hand to help her down. Best to come off as unappealing as possible to the brutes.

 

[richiej]

The cold wintery wind did little to move the braid-work tail Oriza wore that day, it hung straight to the middle of his back, pulling the hair off his clean shaven face. He watched the emissaries approach up the hill to great them, his eye on the lady upon the fair horse, her own hair and features just as fair. That was not to imply delicate and the Avar lord was pleased they did not send some scanty woman to fulfill their promise. He would have been displeased to receive a tribute that would have been more likely to die in her first winter back in his homelands. A hint of a smile greeted the right side of his face, showing his personal pleasure in this woman as a rightful wife of his.

Standing and lifting a leg to dismount, the belly strap of his saddle protested his weight with a groan of resentment, but the item did not budge as Oriza dismounted his steed. He enjoyed that moment, when it was but her and he alone on foot while many contingents of people sat atop horse watching this event unfold. It was a short moment, disrupted when an elderly warrior, still tone but with much evidence of warfare upon his face, dismounted to join his lord. His grizzled hair was pulled back as well, displaying his cool eyes, one blue the other gray under a caved in brow line with a scar running from forehead to his cheek.

When this man approached, Oriza spoke aloud. He spoke in his own tongue, not attempting the language of the Franks, nor the more common tongue of the Empire – Latin. It was a loud, deep whisper of a language, with ‘ch’, ‘sh’, ‘s’, and ‘ds’ seeming prominent. One could relate it to a drunken slur if it were in their native tongue. To the Avar, it was easily understood, it was their language. Oriza spoke at length and then the old warrior translated, speaking the Frankish language.

“Oriza of Ayi, son of Bulwar the Terror, Great Khan of the Avar, Khan of the Mongol Empire, Destroyer of Constantinople, Bringer of the Dark Night, Lord of the Sibui Forest, and Gift-Giver of the Gods, gladly accepts tribute from the Frankish lords, claiming what is rightfully his, extending his dominion on Earth. He is pleased to take the hand of the princess to affirm this understanding between our peoples, to consecrate that union in binding marriage and bids welcome to the Franks to the ceremonies of this union.”

Striding forward then, Oriza looked over Brae as if looking over a prospective mount or livestock, the hint of a smile having faded. After a pass around, he lifted his olive-hazel eyes to meet with the blue of hers then he speaks softly to her. Again, he spoke in his common tongue, a husky whisper intended for her. The old warrior lifted a brow when he heard that utterance, not so much at what was said but rather that he doesn’t hear enough to make it out nor translate what Oriza is telling to his bride to be. Then, in that soft voice, he spoke in Latin that she may hopefully understand him. “You make a fitting wife, tonight you will be mine.” There is more he might of said, it lingers in his eyes, but his role as lord of many peoples keeps his words short to Brae.

 

[loneiysong]

"Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid. He is just a brute Brae, don't be afraid. " This was her mantra to herself. She watched the warrior dismount. He was not a brute, he was a mountain. But she kept her eyes normal and impassive. "Think of something else Brae. Think of anything else." But all that came to mind was a fairy tale that she had packed in her saddle bags. Of Beauty and her Beast. However, she thought it very unlikely that this man would turn into a prince charming any time soon. Maybe after the strong drink she knew was common in his lands. Used to get a woman to feel very saucy and climb into a tent with a man and then keeping themselves warm. She had read a diary of a man who had been accepted into a barbaric clan similar to Oriza's.

Brae had heard of this language before, but she had not been schooled in it. She only knew a few exclamations and that was it. Only what the writers of diaries felt they should put in from this language. She canted her head and then looked at the elder who was to translate and raised an eyebrow. "Trying to compensate for something with that title?" She asked in her own language, rolling her eyes and then up to the heavens. Her father would probably only remain to make sure the oaths were said and once she was legally his, he would be off.

Then he began to pace around her like he was a buzzard. She half expected Oriza to insist to take her lips and spread them to inspect her teeth. "Are you serious right now!?" She looked up at him and crossed her arms. "What are you a lord or a damned vulture!?" She said in Latin so he could understand. She growled back to him so only he could hear as she wrapped an arm around him and gave him a hug, a hug a woman of her land was inspected to give to her lord when he accepted her hand. "I don't think you can handle me." She then stepped back and looked at him knowing he probably said some crude and very rude words to her.

She frowned and then began to take off her thick mittens and then put them in a pocket in her robe and held out her hands and looked at Ozira. She expected him to take her hands so she could get the ceremony overwith. Her father didn't dismount from his horse as he shifted a bit impatiently. Her hood was pulled still over her ears and face to keep herself warm. She smiled and looked down as it began to snow. Definitely now, no one would stay behind. The vows and then her family and all the people she ever knew would leave.

 

[richiej]

As she turned tables on Oriza, the large man stood silently, letting her respond to him. Even as a chuckle escaped from his warrior friend who know well the languages she spoke, the Great Khan of the Avar simply stood measuring – but only of her eyes. The translator and veteran warrior whom had accompanied Oriza was in good spirits already after she had pondered his title, either affirming he was overcompensating or, perhaps, he had earned the titles and more.

Oriz’a physical measuring completed, he now weighed the worth of this woman’s character or so it would seem. He kept looking into her eyes as she stepped up to hug his frame and while he didn’t wrap his arms around her, Oriza did canter his head and neck down into her hug. As if over the woman with hints of a defensive position – or possessive even. Even as she stepped back to offer her hand so they may proceed with the ceremony, he was little touched by the snow, light at first. It but flecked up his mane of black hair in that ponytail, turning to light droplets of water on his face as he sent out roiling breathes of steam in the chill air.

Finally he took that hand, and a Kasis stepped forward, to perform the pagan rituals of binding as customary between husband and wife of the Avar. She was no more a western woman and the marriage customs of her people meant little to the Khaganate of the Avar. His large hand simply enfolded with hers so that the ceremony could begin as the snow began to blanket the ground. Ribbons and fine cloth in streams were then used to wrap their arms together. Oriza listened to the ceremony with respect to his elders and ancestors, but amidst the ceremony he grinned to say to his bride to be.

“I am the vulture,” said Oriza in Latin, quietly amidst the song and prayer of the hooded Kasis while the Kutrigar contingent kneeled in reverence, having dismounted their horses. There was no show of force towards the Franks to comply, they could observe as best they saw for the Avar and the Kutrigar cared not for Frankish customs. “Who takes what he wants that his family grows strong … I am the Great Bear.” Then a glance down at Brae, “You are feisty woman, I like this. We shall see soon enough how well I handle you.”

 

[loneiysong]

Brae looked down and frowned. When he took his hands, his fingers were warm. Not because they had been in gloves, like hers, but he was naturally warm. She canted her head and looked at him. It was so odd. It was like he was the sun's son or something. She shifted a bit and watched his breath form before him. She swallowed hard.

When the ceremony started, Brae could not help but feel so close to tears. She was just a bargaining chip. Just a creature to make sure that he remained comfortable with her brothers and him. She did not want to be tied so close to this man, but irregardless to her eyerolls, she was tied with him. The knots were intricate and then they slowly moved over their bodies. Just to their chest. This was very interesting however. She would write it in her journal later. Maybe one day, she could warn several girls generations from now. Looking into Oriza's face, she frowned hearing him agree with her.

"Well, Great Bear, pardon me for saying, but I think your hypermasculinity is giving hints to your lacking 'abilities'." She shook her head back. She then looked at the Kasis. She was lighting herbs on fire and began to walk around them in a circle waving the smoke. She did not understand how she was supposed to take a ceremony seriously when she didn't even understand what the hell she was being told. Her irritability was raising. Finally the logic in her head piped up. "Well Brae, you didn't eat." Her stomach roared in protest and was curious as to when she ate.

 

[richiej]

A rumble of a laugh teased in Oriza’s throat and, even as the ceremony proceeded and the Kasis blessed them with smoke from the burning herbs, the large man turned to look down at Brae, now intertwined from arms up to their chests. “You are an expert then on the prowess of men? I am in luck, surely you have much to teach me little one.” Then he chuckled a little more, letting his breath mingle with the rising herb smoke from the incense burner the Kasis was carrying.

As the ceremony proceeded, he said little else up until her stomach roared protest. There were grins around from Oriza’s men, no embarrassment at all but rather agreement. Oriza himself said a few words to the Kasis in his native tongue, the priest looked curiously at the warrior-king and then jumped into a few litanies that came out hastily. As the Kasis hurried to finish, Oriza offered again, in Latin, to his soon to be wife, “Our bellies shall be full soon enough.” And then, it wasn’t long before the ceremony was concluded.

“There is more ritual,” said Oriza, “But we can attend to those matters after we’ve had our fill, no?” It was directed at Brae, who had the protesting stomach. Their arms still intertwined, he nodded to the old translator that know the Frankish tongue, suggesting he bring her horse next to his own. It would seem they would ride together for a short while as husband/wife, perhaps part of those rituals, but also it was the quickest way to the festivities just the same.

 

[loneiysong]

Brae was a bit peeved at his laugh. How dare a brute laugh at her. "No, not an expert, just smart enough to know when a man is trying to feed me bullshit. I think that's what you sell." She growled glaring at him. Her blue eyes taking on a coldness that rivaled the snow falling around them. She sighed and then felt her feet begin to protest. God, how she longed for her riding boots right now and not the silly contraption that the maids insisted she wear. She shifted. Could this get any worse?

Apparently it could. Her stomach betrayed her. The men were grinning at her like she was like one of them. A common brute. She looked at the Kasis as the priest looked at her and then to him then back again. What did he say? But she noticed at last a nod from the Kasis and then he quickly began to speed up. "I am not worried about my belly." She snorted in disgust. When the ceremony was concluded, she looked back at her father, willing him to do anything, but he just nodded and turned the horses and left in the opposite way that they themselves were going. Rejection and betrayal burned at her heart as she watched her family and the loyals to the crown leave her. Now she was truly alone. The cold seemed to bite more and all her pain and discomfort only hurt a bit more. She would have gone after him, but her arm was tied securely to Oriza. She felt the need to cry. The urge to cry. But she would not allow herself. She just stood there facing her fathers retreating back in shock.

She felt him move behind her and talk. "Whatever." She said and frowned as followed him. She had no choice in the matter anyway. She looked up at his large black steed as they approached. She would no doubt not get her privacy for a long time, she had to remain strong until then.

 

[richiej]

With horses close and the now husband and wife ready to mount, it seemed a tricky matter at first. But with one foot into the stirrup and moving the other foot up, close to in unison, others helped to encourage the horses to sidestep so that it was actually easy. It seemed wherever the horses where touched, the sidestepping was a natural reaction thus making it easier. Already, snow was accumulating on the saddles they had abandoned for the ceremony.

As they rode, away from the rest of his men, it afforded a moment alone. Alone enough to talk, with the thickening snowfall, the fog off the morning ground, and the distance between his men, it was bordering quiet between the two of them. “Brae,” he began, saying her name for the first time, “You know little of the world beyond your walls.” He meant the city of Paris, not merely whatever manse her father had dwelled in along with her up until this day. “I would not tarnish my honor by lying to you.” As they rode eastward away from the city, his chin jutted out towards the horizon, “My lands, my vassals, my titles … they are not meant to impress you. I am not here to court you; your father has decided for you that we would marry. This has come to pass.” Then for a moment he turned in his saddle to look at her next to him, his green eyes searching for her blue eyes.

“I will open your eyes,” implying perhaps that rather than take the words of others or himself, that Oriza may let his actions speak for him if she would give him a chance but using his own words that could well be misinterpreted. “If all I have told you proves to be a lie, then you shall live many horrible years as my wife. I tell you now, I will enjoy this union – whether or not you do.”

The pavilions of the fete were looming close as the rode.

 

[loneiysong]

She frowned. It was tricky. She was not sure how the horses responded so well to the touch from the barbarians. She sighed and winced when she was finally on her horse. Abandoning the idea of side saddle, she rode like she had noticed several of the Barbarian women rode like their men. She shifted so she was as comfortable as she could be while she felt the ice seep through her undergarments and to her legs. She looked ahead, her hood was hiding a great deal of her face from him as they rode side by side.

When he said her name, something jolted inside of her. Not an altogether unpleasant feeling. She frowned and then swallowed listening to him. "Then I won't lie to you, I know plenty of the world beyond my walls. While I might have not set foot there, I have traveled in my mind via certain books." She frowned and looked ahead and smiled as he told her that his titles weren't supposed to impress her. She turned to him and snorted. "And yet you carry them around and flaunt them as boldly as a peacock flaunts his own feathers. Tell me, Bear King, did you think I would go weak in the knees? Were you hoping for some princess beauty? Soft and meek?" She looked at his green eyes. Her blue eyes just looked more hurt than cold now. But something soothed her looking into those green eyes.

"What have you told me that could possibly be a lie?" She looked ahead at the pavilions. Lord knew of the heathen rituals she would be expected to undertake. "But tell me this, how are we supposed to be happy if we are not even speaking a language that is comfortable for either of us?" She knew Latin, she just didn't care for the way it felt on her tongue.

 

[richiej]

As Oriza listened to the woman talk, his forearm flexed as if to mirror ripples of thoughts running through his mind as she questioned him. His eyebrows rested solemnly atop his olive-hazel eyes, showing contemplation at the woman’s words rather than any scorn or contempt that she would question him.

“It is all that we have,” responded Oriza finally, still speaking Latin. “Unless you have learned my language from your books … I do not speak your native tongue Brae.” It was matter of fact, his face forward to the pavilion as the continued to ride. His attitude blasé on the topic. “Until we find such a language that is as free upon our lips as the hawk upon the winds, we must speak this language of dead men.”

They were nearing the area to dismount, others were approaching to help them off their horses and into the pavilion. “As for titles, it is no different than what your kings record in their books, only in the far east, it is standard to add such titles as poetry, lest one offends another.” Just before they are helped off, he reaches his hand over towards her thigh and grasps it, bringing her own hand in with his as he does that gesture. Sharing another look, if she would meet his gaze, he says, “I do not expect you to go weak or be awed, I expect you to act freely as your spirit guides you. I do not want to cow a woman beneath the furs.” Meaning to force her to bed against her will, “However, if you had been such a woman, I would still have taken you eventually, regardless, as would be my want, such is the right of a husband.”

 

[loneiysong]

"I will strive to learn your tongue then. I know only swears and exclamations like." She thought and rubbed her horses neck and in his tongue fluently she shouted into the winds. "YOUR MOTHER HAS LAID WITH MANY A PIG". She shrugged and blushed looked at him and shrugged continuing in Latin. "But, if I were to try to talk, I would probably say many a thing wrong such as, my Toads are hung from my corset or something like that." She smiled weakly and looked at him.

When he pulled the horses to a halt, and the people came ot help them down, she blushed a bit as the man touched her thigh and she looked into those green eyes. Brae opted to feel offended, but her heart was racing. That was a touch that could quell and tame a horse. She looked at him and leaned close to him. "Then what was it that you were after Bear King?" She raised an eyebrow looking at him. She then stopped as men came up. "Um, I have boots in my bag, I would really like it if I could switch my shoes before I have a blister rubbed into my feet." She said and motioned with her free hand to the saddle bag.

"Or is that too weird of a request?" She looked at the men and some women.

 

[richiej]

Several riders chuckled at the words Brae threw into the winds, Oriza himself smiling. Still the large man shook his head, discounting anything she might say wrong if she practiced his language. In fact, it almost seemed like the simple effort to attempt his language was good cause enough at making some peace between the two of them. As she pondered what he was really after, he responded as the men came up to help them off their mounts.

“It was your father that offered you to me. I was after the gold and tribute from the Franks, he thought his gold to precious it would seem.” Oriza was smiling when he said that, again as if stating a simply truth. Then, in part, it dawned on him that this may not have been what the young princess wanted to hear. He amended his words, “I took the offer curious if there was a princess who would submit to her father’s will, to see if she had the gall to see this threw. I am impressed thus far Brae, but we have our ceremony now and then, many leagues to travel before we are in the hills of my ancestors.”

He could of said more but the men were up and she then pondered about her boots. The men looked to Oriza and he nodded, saying something again in his language. In response the man closest to her bags opened it up to find the boots she request. Unless she stopped him, he would find them and put them on to help her dismount. They would lead the way into the pavilion regardless of who retrieved the boots, leading husband and wife to a raised dais overlooking a pit roasting wild boar and other meets for the festivities, moving to get delicately inlaid mugs to be filled with the native ale that the Kutrigars had brought with them.

 

[loneiysong]

Brae heard his words. The dagger was twisted. So my father would rather have his gold than me? She shut her eyes and shifted a bit on her horse. She leaned her head forward her hood obscuring her face as she thought of how little her own father thought of her. She had never missed her mother so much. She swallowed harder and bit her lip. She turned her feet to the men and smiled.

The boots were old worn hunting boots. They looked like they would be more benefitting an old huntswoman than a young princess. She sighed when her feet were warmer and secured more. She took the shoes and then flung them away from her. "I will not ever be wearing those infernal things again." She smiled and then slid off the horse and then walked with him. She inhaled and blushed. "Smells good." She smiled and then moved closer to him and grinned. "How would I say, thank you for cooking in your tongue?" She moved and then tasted the tasty ale. It warmed but soothed her feeling and sighed. "Damn fine brew." She slurred horribly through the language and grinned blushing.

She took it all in. Th pit of the boar. Something so primal but something that looked so delicious. She rubbed her free hand along the mug and watched as a band began to form and play music. She felt the rythm begin to sync themselves to the rhythm of her heart. The colors of the pavilion. It was nothing like the royals would have. Instead on the inside of the obvious tanned hide, were paintings of mythological creatures from their myths. Her eyes traveled around and noticed that some were gods and goddesses in celebration with mortals. She grinned and just continued to take in the delicate paintings. She sighed. Some would call it primative, but something in her tightened. This was only brought out for special occasions and took a while to prop up with the thick wooden poles decorated in hammered metals.

 

[richiej]

In response to her question of speaking in his tongue he replied <Thanks for your preparations of this meal> which sounded something like ‘yemek hadsırlamak ichin teszekkoor ederim.’ After which, Oriza let Brae absorb the sights and sounds of the fete, taking his own drink heartily and enjoying what food was brought to him. After he had his fill, he sat quietly, drinking from his large mug and watching his new wife observing his men in this fine pavilion, as well as the pavilion itself.

It was indeed one of their finest, but the decorations of the poles themselves and the accoutrements that had gone up in the tent looked well worn. It spoke many volumes of the way his people lived. Unlike the Western and Eastern Roman Empires, the Avar were truly one of the hordes, a traveling nomadic people with no permanent residence. In the same, the metal braid work and enamel decorations on the poles and other objects, including some of the chairs – as well as the personal jewelry of some of Oriza’s people, also said that despite being nomads, they were highly developed as a society, as well as highly competent craftsmen.

The snow fell outside, but inside was toasty warm, smoke filtering up and out through several vent flaps near the centermost pole of the pavilion. As food was taken away and some of the people started to dance, mingle, and otherwise interact with each other, Oriza came to decide observing his wife was not simply enough. Noting her eyes upon the decoration, including those delicate, primitive paintings of divinities and mortals from Avarian legends, he asked of her, “You are curious perhaps of some of those stories? I know many of your people embrace one god, but maybe you wish to know some of these ‘legends’ ..?”

 

[loneiysong]

She copied him best she could. She smiled and looked at him. When she was brought a plate of steaming meat, her stomach roared its pleasure. She began to chew on a side of the meat. It was extremely tasty. There was no real silverware so she ate with her fingers. She had never known meat to taste so good. Her eyes rolled up and every so often, her hands shot out for her mug unconsciously dragging his arm away from whatever he was doing to take a drink. She blushed looking at him and grinned with a blush. <Sorry for your toad> she said when she really meant to say "Sorry, I forgot". She sighed sitting back after several plates were offered.

Leaning back, she licked her fingers and sighed. That was when she turned her gaze back on the painting. She was starting to become very warm. The ale, food, and still being tied to the Ozira, made Brae feel warm and toasty. She sighed and then looked at him and grinned a bit licking the bit of grease off her lips and nodded. "Yes, please tell me." She loved myth and stories. The ale made her relaxed. She leaned back and looked up at the tent.

 

[richiej]

Only grinning when she said sorry for his toad, there was enough there to indicate toad could be used for other certain references, but he wasn’t about to point this out. With only an ale to work on and his belly full of food, he relaxed some when she agreed to hear some of the myths displayed in the pavilion. His eyes lingered a moment where she had licked the grease off her lips.

As the pit crackled, now only provided warmth and light inside, he lifted his ale towards the images displayed. “This is the telling of Hanif. A beautiful mortal woman chosen by the god-spirit Sedar to be his wife. She had ascended to the god-realm to be at his side but longed for her people who lived on earth. Thus, she befriended Perun one day while Sedar rode off to battle for Perun was the herald of the gods and could travel between the realms.”

With a suggestion, he indicated they could get up and walk around, hands still intertwined, so that he could show more of the images to her as he related the story. He continued, “After Perun taught her how to travel to the realm were mortals dwell, she would come to visit her family when Sedar was away. She knew her husband would be mad if he found out she was doing this. During this time, she brought knowledge of horses and metals to the people, this knowledge she herself learned from the gods. One day Sedar found out she had done this and became angry because he did not want mortals to have such knowledge. However, when it came time to punish her, he found he could not because he loved her. Instead, he punished Perun for having taught her how to traverse between the spirit realm and the mortal realm. Perun was put into the night sky to shine down on all mortals as a reminder that we are not of their realm. This is a good story for my people.”

 

[loneiysong]

She saw the grin on his face and blushed. Somehow, she knew that she had not said the right thing at all. But understanding was there so maybe she said enough? She promised once she reached the destination, and Ozira had the newness wear off of her, she would get with the translator and begin her lesson of learning his language.

Myths was one of her weaknesses. She loved all things about them. She looked up to where he gestured with his ale mug. By his gentle telling of the first part of the story, she felt her eyes begin to droop and her ears listened to only his voice. The ale and the food telling her how tired she really was. Brae sighed, however, when Ozira encouraged her to get up and walk with him. Not like she had much choice. She got up and felt her thumb gently stroking over his war toughened knuckles. Turning to Ozira once he had finished the tale, she canted her head to the side and looked up at him.

"What became of of Hanif and her Sedar?" She whispered and looked at him. She was caught up in this tale of love and sacrifice. "Why would Sedar punish the herald of the gods so?" She frowned a bit at him. She was engulfed in the story, but knew there was probably back story and he was giving her the snippets. She looked into his green eyes and frowned. Her blue eyes were the eyes of a scholar hungry for more knowledge.

 

[richiej]

Whether Oriza noticed the thumb at his knuckles, he did not comment. As she turned to cant her head and look up at him, their arms twisted slightly in the binding and he used that moment to close his own hand over hers. “Sedar put Perun into the sky and between the realms always that both the gods and mortals could always know what he was doing. It is said Perun is the night sky but when he casts darkness on the world of mortals, the gods do not always see what goes on. When it is day time, he casts shadow into the world of the gods. It is said Perun created the Bozmak in spite of Sedar, it is why under certain moons, the Bozmak loose control. Perun is sometimes glimpsed in the shadow of the moon at night.”

Oriza said this as if she might understand all he referred to, and whether she did or not, he continued to speak as he looked down at her. “Hanif, it is said, now only dwells in the home of Sedar, that he may always know where she is and, as much as he loves her, it is also said that when Perun casts shadows into the heavens that Hanif may look into the world of the mortals. She represents the mystical sun. Hanif is intertwined with Perun but they will never see each other again. Sedar knows this, it is why he allows Perun to be mischievous in his dark ways now.”

As his deep voice trailed off, Oriza lifted his free hand to Brae’s neck as she canted her head to the side. It was warm but bordering on possessive when he had done this. “I do not know if I would be your Sedar or Perun. I cannot divine how or if love will blossom in this union Brae. I can only ask that you be passionate with me, do not hide your feelings, always let the world know who you are. To be Avar is to be free, you are one of us now.”

 

[loneiysong]

She listened and canted her head to him. "The Bozmak? What is the Bozmak?" She looked up into the ceiling of the pavilion as if she might spot the Bozmak among the different illustrations. She didn't see anything that even resembled a bit of the Bozmak. Brae had read through only one journal of a man who had lived among the Avar, but nothing was mentioned about the Bozmak.

She grinned and then nodded. "I understand, so Perun is your trickster spirit diety and Sedar is the supreme ruler spirit." She smiled and then nodded as he told the mythos of why the sun and the moon travel on polar opposites of the sky. She smiled and then nodded and grinned as he talked of Perun's mischievous ways. But then as he trailed off, she looked up at Oriza. Brae's eyes were guarded. She knew that he would probably make a move, but made no move to pull away. She just watched him. His hand was hard but warm. It felt nice. She swallowed and shut her eyes enjoying the touch. The gentle touch. "Well, Oriza, probably neither. You are a mortal afterall." She looked at him trying to lighten the mood of the talk of love in their union. "Oriza, I must confess to you a secret. It is widely known in my kingdom and it should be in yours." She took a deep sigh and looked up at him.

"My father, the king, has been trying for several years to make me so I would hide my feelings and be quiet. But as I stand here, I am proof of his failure. So I promise, I will never hide my feelings or keep anything from you." She smiled at him. Brae, why are you smiling to this Brute?! He just ruined your life. But something in her still felt sad, but now more than ever, she truly felt the possibility of freedom.

She looked up at the pavilion once again and her eyes traveled along it and soon lively music began to pick up as several warriors, now feeling full, began to dance. Brae turned and looked at the folklore dancing and grinned a bit chuckling.

 

[richiej]

As he listens to her ponderings and response, Oriza laughs at the dilemma; for he never will be either for he is but a mortal after all. “And I will never keep anything from you,” he responds in kind. With his hand, he moves it to suggest they can dance, much like the other warriors are – though they remained joined by the arm. “The Bozmak …” he says, moving his own body to the music his people are playing, “Are those leaders among my people that channel the spirit totems of our clans. They take the forms of these totems and become the animal. Most are subject to the will of Perun. But there are some that can become their totem upon their will. Though they too are subject to Perun, when the moon is right, and they must channel their spirit.”

“I would not speak so of your father,” regarding her father’s failure at not being able to make a proper lady of Brae. Oriza continues, “But, if I were he, I would have summoned my warriors to defend my home and not so readily bent the knee.” As he turned more towards the other dancing, encouraging her to joing along but not outright forcing her, he grinned then, “Do you dance with me because I am now your husband, or perhaps you want to?”

It was left floating in the air, with many other thoughts perhaps. Spirits and music were flowing freely and if she ever needed a refill, there were those of his people ready to oblige. While indeed there were those amongst the people intended to be servants, those ready to fill the cups were more willing to share in the festivities rather than simply obey commands.

 

[loneiysong]

She smiled adn canted her head at him and then frowned a bit. When he talked of the Bozmak, her eyes traveled to the bear claw necklace he wore around his neck and reached forward adn ran her hand along it and bit her lip. "And you believe you are one of these?" She whispered. The puzzle pieces beginning to fall into place. She had heard of people who turned into animals when teh moon was full. She then looked at him and swallowed nodding.

At his defense of her father, she rolled her eyes and turned her head away, but a grin spread across her lips. "Yes, that is one thing that you Brutes have over us, my people cringe and cower at the thought of blood." She looked up at him and sighed a long suffering smile, but something about her eyes told him she was a jokster at heart as well. "Well, we can't very well have our Bear King married to a stiff lady now can we." She looked at him and moved forward with him. She quickly picked up the dance moves after stumbling a bit. Every other dance or so, she called for a mug of ale and downed it and was back on the floor. Soon, she was drunk.

She laughed her face was turning a slight pink as she gripped onto Ozira. She chuckled as she stumbled over her long dress. Brae giggled and looked up at him and smiled. "It would seem that I embibbed a tad too much of your drink." She smiled and wrapped her free arm around him to try to steady herself. Everything was spinning.

 

[richiej]

There was a warm smile when she asked if he was of the Bozmak, and Orize didn’t quite answer as the dances continued one after the other. When she stumbled, he would use his free arm to steady her, least their intertwined arms become uncomfortable and he took drinks as much as she did when they came around or she called for more. As the room swam upon her under the influence of the ale, he brought his own arm around her, holding her tightly to him but still swaying, pressing his body upon hers.

“Then you should be put to bed,” he said. It wasn’t so much clear if he was implying they should then go lay as husband and wife or if he really meant she should get some sleep because of too much to drink. Still that arm about her back, he gave a lift and began to carry her. They could have been dancing still among the people, or he could have been moving away from the festivities then. “It is time we take our leave,” he said as time slipped around them, “It is expected.” There was movement and the people moved to help, as if to escort them from one pavilion to the next and Oriza knew exactly where to go.

It was, perhaps to an outsider, a confusion of tents and pavilions, all the people lived this nomadic lifestyle and all their abodes were ornate. It seemed the left the man pavilion after traveling through a series of chambers off the main room of that pavilion, each seeming like its own tent. In those tents were couple who had left to be away from the activity and were in various states of embrace and undress. They paid little mind to the proceedings. Outside in the snow covered hillside, various group of men and women continued to celebrate, some had broken out into various fights of honor, courage or simple challenges of bravery, others still enjoying each other’s company. They were led to a grand pavilion, its main flaps embraced by mighty braziers, the light and heat fighting off the snow from the ground that opened to his own quarters. Still the ground was muddy, but inside the ground was covered by rugs. In one area was a wooden thrown, carved with images of large bears bracing the seat and back, and this was surrounded by treasures of his people – various barbarian tradition jewelry and objects of art. In another area were furs packed and this was perhaps the closest thing his people had to a bed.

 

[loneiysong]

She giggled and pressed her face against his unbound arm and grinned softly against him. She swallowed softly. She felt suddenly the whole mood in the tent shift. Shit, did she make an ass out of herself? Everyone was looking at her expectantly. She frowned and then moved with him as they began to escort her from the pavilion. Her heart was racing. The cold hit her in the face and she gasped a bit she did not realize how warm she had become. The could quickly found her fevered from drink forehead and chilled her quickly.

She looked as several of the people of the festivities left early. She saw several strong female warriors embracing their men. The women were every bit as fierce. Some she even spied, had barbarian tattoos swirling over their bodies. Biting her lip, she kept her eyes down. Looking down, she smiled seeing that they had brought in her bag. She then giggled and then stumbled a bit into the tent her head reeling. She didn't know where she was, the room spun so badly, she couldn't begin to make her way back to the main pavilion even if she tried. She smiled and leaned her head against him once they reached his tent and she sighed. "Your people are very open about their emotions aren't they?" She sighed once they were inside the tent and away from earshot. She didn't realize that some of the warriors waited outside the tent to witness the first union, or at least hear it. "How long are we expected to remained tied together like this." She motioned to the intricate ribbon work binding them together.

She sighed and leaned against him even more. She felt very nervous, excited, and drunk. Brae didn't think she had ever been this drunk in her life. She reached behind her and began to scratch at her head and then blushed laughing a bit. "Um, Ozira, have you ever been with a woman before?" She turned her blue eyes on him. She knew this was a bad subject to bring up, but she was curious and had to know. She had heard that sexual relationships were very open and encouraged amongst some barbarians.

 

[richiej]

As they were left alone and she pondered their arms, he moved to the furs, holding her tightly that his own body heat may help with the drunken fever she acquired while going into the snow. “Until we are one,” he responded over that intricate ribbon that bound them. Though he lifted there tied arms slightly behind them and used his free hand to undo the ties, such that simply moving now would eventually undo what had been done by the Kasis.

In the warmth of the tent, heated by braziers as well, similar to the ones outside, he continued to embrace her to transfer that head until she pondered if he’d been with a woman before. Carefully he brought his head back so he could gaze down into her blue eyes. He measured the moment, as if pondering her intent. Such talk was liberal amongst his people but her question held a curiosity about it he was unfamiliar with. “I have, I would not be Khan of the Avar otherwise.” Implying perhaps that in the socializing of their fetes, this was something that was expected. He continued, however, “I have accepted no mate until today.”

Then his knees were bending as he embraced her, as if suggesting they lay down amongst the furs, but still he found that curiosity growing within him, “What does this mean to you?” Referring to him having been with women before and unsure of the ways of the Franks and courtship perhaps. His arms moved at the bindings, twisting to help the bounds loosen so he could use both hands to embrace her and hold her more against his body.