[center][h3][color=c3a5fd]Aymiria[/color] and [color=e23434]Zakroti[/color] Unalim[/h3]
[sub]Interacting with: Each other! [@darkwolf687][/sub][/center]

[color=e23434]"It is hot here."[/color] Zakroti sighed heavily as he rode along the path up towards the large gates of the manor, the sun beating down on the procession of warriors. It gleamed off of Zakroti's silver-white armour, Ice Crystal gems gleaming in the light. He was flanked on either side, ahead and behind by mounted warriors clad in black armour who were surely feeling the heat even worse than he. The largest among them was just shy of 8', and the shortest 5'11, like Zakroti himself. 

Behind this esteemed vanguard marched a column of 80 soldiers clad in chain mail with nasal helmets and long kite shields and behind them 20 non-combatant servants. Their commander and standard bearer marched ahead of him, the standard bearer wearing a Rehwar head in place of his helmet and the Commander wearing a decorative plate cuirass and closed helm. The banner bore the White Wyvern of House Unalim on a party per pale Red-Blue background, with the numerals 3-1 beneath it and above it the words Vivpre Star Krepre

Zakroti looked down towards Miry, one of his arms wrapped around her gently. He smiled and leant in, whispering [color=e23434]"Oeiz Aigz, what do you think?"[/color] The century old manor was certainly imposing; its tall walls were not made of the white and red stones that the West used for building and was rather of local materials like a coarse limestone or dolomite of sorts, yet it had some of the telltale architectural signs of the West all the same; the walls bore many carvings, and on either side of the gate rose up a tall statue of a Drakken warrior to stand ever vigilant. The gates themselves were adorned with many symbols and carvings and at its centre where the gates met was a circle with a Wyvern carved into it as if it were coiling around the gate. The Wyvern was, naturally, painted white and bore a small red ruby for an eye.

Miry had spent much of the ride in silence, all but gaping around (that was, when she wasn’t writing in her parchment “book of travels” or squinting at the small book of poetry she’d brought for herself) at the wonders they passed. She’d grown comfortable enough in the saddle in the last year that she was no longer desperately clinging onto the reins (or her husband) at every slight bump, and so she took the time in the saddle as an opportune time to work on her mastery of her husband’s language. She still rode with him, of course, as she had for the last year – she liked the contact, and felt somewhat safer than she would have on her own mount – but she was not so dependent on him as she was the previous year that they had made this journey.

As they rode through the city she fanned herself with a hand, her Gemmenite sparkle not being the only thing contributing to the faint sheen of her skin. Though she knew, as compared to the men in full plate armor, she had nothing to be complaining about, the sun’s rays were doing quite a number on her. The pale blue-violet outfit she wore, a simple long sleeved blouse and trousers so wide-legged they gave the appearance of a skirt, was far cooler for certain than the heavy armor that the rest of her party was wearing for certain. Still, she was uncomfortable, and she mumbled something in affirmation to Zakroti’s comment as she adjusted the ivory wyvern brooch that held her blouse’s high collar closed. 

As they paused in front of the gates of a (particularly opulent) manor house and her husband’s arm snaked around her, the young woman leaned back into his touch. [color=c3a5fd]“It is magnificent, milove, but – is the king not to be displeased that we have brought so many soldiers?”[/color] She swayed slightly in his embrace, the world spinning around her and a wave of nausea suddenly overcoming her. This happened quite often nowadays, she bitterly mused, as she quickly brought one hand to her mouth to cover it while attempting to swallow the foul sensation and taking a sharp breath through her nose to steady herself. After a moment, when she was certain she could speak again, she murmured, [color=c3a5fd]“What duties will I need to attend? I’ve brought the mending and sewing and you know I don’t mind brushing down the horses, and failing that there’s always my embroidery. I’m certain you’ve important people to socialize with and I don’t ever intend to be in the way.”[/color]

[color=e23434]"We are not that numerous. A single detachment, as fine soldiers as they are, should hardly worry him. The road is long and hard, I do not trust the wilds or our enemies. Any displeasure at a small band of soldiers taking up board in my manor during my stay should be minimal."[/color] Zakroti smiled and brushed Miry's hair back slightly, leaning down to kiss her cheek, whispering the rest of what he had to say into her ear. "I'm hoping to spend most of it with you, of course, aside from a few bits of business... Are you okay?" Zakroti wpapping his arm around her as she swayed to make sure she could not fall off. He carefully dismounted and helped her down to the ground beside him, offering her his hand. 

The already present servants - with a few warriors to oversee them - opened up the gate to their arriving lord and the castellan came forth to kneel before the column. He had short cut hair as white as chalk, sunken eyes and a crooked nose as if it had once been broken and hadn't healed properly. His voice was remarkably deep, even for a Drakken; [color=cccccc]"Oeiz Muth, wre grunda odzi.”[/color] (My Duke, You Honour Us.)

[color=e23434]"Rise. I trust the rooms are prepared?"[/color] Zakroti replied, glancing around the courtyard as the Castellan rose from his knee. Aqueducts carried water to the Manor on either side of the courtyard and from hung planters, filled with plants and flowers. Far from the brightest and most beautiful plants one would ever see, but in this part of Drakka any plant life was a welcome change of scenery. 

[color=cccccc]"Rightly so my Muthseran. I have... More news. Urgent news it seems. The Muthseran sent a letter ahead I am supposed to give you."[/color] The Castellan approached Zakroti and handed him an envelope sealed in red wax. Zakroti broke the seal and took the letter from within, unfolding it and scanning his eyes over the cursive writing. 

Once he had finished, he placed the letter back in the envelope. He called out for everyone's attention and raised the envelope into the air. He heard several people call out as servants and warriors quickly fell into line alongside the soldiers he had brought so he could properly address them. He linked arms with Miry and led her out before them to make the announcement. 

[color=e23434]"It is my great honour to inform you that his grace the Muthseran has fathered a child, the third daughter of his life time at the age of 613."[/color] Zakroti called out with a beaming smile. The Drakken hollered in approval and a chant of 'Sunna, Sunna!' echoed out through the courtyard. Zakroti raised a hand to silence them and continued [color=e23434]"He has elected to name her Silwel. May her days be long and merry."[/color] 

[color=cccccc]"Epenas an Jaedi, Sunna an Wel e lalyent!"[/color] The assembled warriors and servants responded.

Zak’s comment had made Miry all-over giddy, a faint flush rushing to her cheeks as she leaned her head against his shoulder. [color=c3a5fd]"You honor me, milove."[/color] she mumbled. As he dismounted, helping her to the ground, she stumbled slightly - that had always been the most awkward part of riding for her, if nothing else because her tiny height made the jump down somewhat more daunting - and caught herself against his side, linking arms and entwining her fingers with his. 

As he scanned the letter twice over, his face impassive, her brow furrowed and she stepped closer to him, clearly worried. But that spot of worry soon passed as his face broke into a slight smile, and he guided her by the arm to be standing at his side while he made the announcement to his soldiers.

The grand duke was a father... yet again. She already could not keep count of the number of uncles that her husband had, and the cousins too were an absurdly monumental number. As the words settled over her, a slight pang in her lower abdomen made her press her free hand over it protectively. She leaned against Zak's side, murmuring something about good fortune and grace and dignity for the child, the words of the assembled soldiers washing over her in an incomprehensible fog.

This had set the tone remarkably well for her own confession, she figured. Perhaps she would give it upon going to his bed tonight. But the small voice in her head told her to wait, wait until after the Choosing - surely it would be anticlimactic, to hear it from his own whelp of a bride so soon after hearing it from his grandfather, and at any rate... He was back here. They were back here. Clearly she hadn't satisfied him, not if he was going to claim another-

The little nasty voice reminded her that he was probably going to give her away, trade her for someone else. That maybe the affection he displayed so often was just a ruse for complacency, and he actually had no intention of keeping her. Another wave of nausea - bitter, jealous nausea - rose up in her throat, and with a trembling hand she discreetly called a small globe of water from the aqueducts and wrapped it around her neck and temples (where it clung vaguely shimmering silver), letting the soothing coolness calm her. Nope. Not thinking like that.

She smiled up at Zak, if a little distantly, and fumbled for a subject to distract him with. [color=c3a5fd]"This greenery... I've not seen anything quite like it even at home. There must be a massive difference in plants all across Drakka...And is it not hard to get anything to grow here? Your people must be so dedicated to its upkeep."[/color]

[color=e23434]"Oh massive difference in flora and fauna, climate too..."[/color] Zakroti trailed off for a moment as he ran his eyes over the plants again. [color=e23434]"It can be hard to keep them growing in the desert parts, but that's all the more reason to do it. Prestige and... Beauty. Even in the harshest of places, there is life, nurture it and in time you can make it peaceful and beautiful. Your people don't really understand it or appreciate it, as much as they say they do."[/color]

Zakroti leaned down and kissed her gently, holding her to him as he led her towards the Manor proper, still talking. [color=e23434]"Yes, it takes a lot of dedication. But you appreciate it more for it. All the lands of my family and kin are shining examples of this. It cost our people dearly but we succeeded... And the cost itself taught us and built our character. It made us brave, diligent and empowered us."[/color]

Zakroti reached the large oaken doors and the servants opened them up for him, letting them step into the entry hall that itself doubled as the Great Hall. A long room running half the length of the building in total, with many tables and chairs on either side of a great grated fireplace in the centre of the mosaic tiled floor. A single long table with two thrones was laid out was at the far end of the room, slightly elevated above the rest. Behind this table was a fresco depicting a large Drakken in shining armour with a flowing red cloak, standing over many bodies after a great battle. In one hand he held a large sword and in the other he held a severed Drakken head. Around him was gathered his army, cheering in victory as one of his attendants brought forth the enemy banner. 

Throughout the hall, pillars rose at equal intervals, each pillar elaborately carved so as to have a Wyvern coiled around it, wings clasped close to its body. At the base of each of these pillars, where the Wyverns head rose from the wall, was a font or basin; from the mouth of the Wyvern sprang a steady trickle of water into the basin, which was then slowly drained away into the Manor underworks. At this time, however, only one of these fountains was active, from which a servant occasionally cooled themselves with or drank from. 

Other frescoes adorned the walls to the side, commemorating other moments in history or mythology. Each side of the room were a pair of large doors that headed off into the wings of the Manor and at the far end of the room a staircase rose up onto the second level of the hall. Banners hung from this level, dangling over the great hall and swaying lightly in the breeze from the door. Tucked away in the corner by one of these staircases was the doorway into the kitchen, far smaller and more inconspicuous, as was expected of servants’ doors.

The sunlight that poured in through the four large stained glass windows on the front of the building caused beautiful patterns on the floor and pillars.

Certainly, this was a lavish building; It often hosted parties and gatherings at this time of year, particularly when a member of House Unalim had business with another great warlord or his family, and so it had been built to impress and dazzle. The soldiers with him split off and settled down at the tables, hungry from the journey. The head servant headed for the kitchen door immediately, shouting orders. 

[color=e23434]"Not quite home but it's quite excellent still, don't you think?"[/color] Zakroti said as he looked to Miry with a grin.

Miry listened intently, fumbling in the satchel at her hip to produce the parchment notebook and stick of charcoal, flipping the (about half-filled) notebook open to the first blank page and beginning to sketch in the aqueducts and hanging planters, writing down what Zak said about it being a symbol of honor. As he leaned down, she rose up on her tiptoes, returning the kiss lightly, and she put the charcoal away - promising herself to come back to her drawing later - and wrapping her arm around his waist so she could lean against his side as they walked into the manor.

She gasped slightly as she looked around, eyes lighting on the details of the carvings. The amazement at the detail in the Westerlings' architecture had never worn off; every time she entered a new place she was overcome once more with awe. Wordlessly she padded over to one of the fountains that had been turned off, gently running her fingers over the details. [color=c2a5fd]"How do your people do these things..." for even the architecture in the Gemmenite capital, while ornate, had clearly visible chisel marks and other imperfections. But these pillars seemed to rise out of the floor seamlessly, and entirely perfectly. "It's absolutely marvelous..."[/color]

Shaking herself out of her mesmerized state, she returned to her husband's side, twining her fingers through his, offering him a smile as well, and stretching up on tiptoe to attempt to kiss him. [color=c2a5fd]"It's absolutely beautiful. Your family's estates are... simply marvelous. I suppose that is to be expected, when you have so many years to master your crafts, but... it is still so amazing."[/color]

In a moment of childlike excitement, she called some water from the basin, guiding it with her free hand. She flicked it through the air in the stained-glass light, causing rainbows to scatter around the room. Vividly she imagined raising a family here, watching them play under the sparkling lights, their laughter echoing off the high ceilings- plus it would be so warm and dry here that children would be less likely to succumb to the seasonal sniffling sick that had always seemed to plague them, even in Gemmenia. [color=c2a5fd]"If this city were safer it would be a brilliant place for a family..."[/color] she murmured, her hand lightly pressing over her lower abdomen again. Was it swelling already? Or was her mind just playing tricks on her? At most she was two months along - it had been two months since she'd properly bled, though that was no guarantee of much of anything. It seemed a very short time for her body to be making signs of that. She was probably just making it up out of desperation for him to keep her around...

After a moment of this introspective inspection, of course, she realized what she'd said out loud and slightly panicked, hurriedly dropping her hand to her side and pressing her face into her husband's chest. [color=c2a5fd]"Sorry, milove. I don't mean anything by it."[/color]

She clenched her fist and promised herself she would stop thinking of it, for just three more days. Just until whatever was going to happen at this Choosing would hurry up and happen - and if she was still his bride at the end of it, then she would let him know her suspicion.

Zakroti watched her approach one of the pillars, smiling at her amazement and watching her examine it. He took a few steps towards her and looked over her shoulder to it. 

[color=e23434]"Our control over earth is greater than yours. An experienced sculptor crafts from the bones of the world, he can run his hand over the surface of stone and engrave words without tools. By the end of his life, he can mold stone as though it were wax."[/color] Zakroti murmured to her with a raise of his brow as he leant down to meet Miry's lips quickly.  Then he laughed heartily as she drew water from the font and covered the room in rainbows, admiring the light that shimmered through the room. 

He drew her closer to him and looked back down to her as she murmured, noticing as she placed her hand on her abdomen then dropped it quickly to her side and pressed up against him. He wrapped his arm around her and placed his hand atop hers, guiding it back to her abdomen [color=e23434]"Meant nothing by it...? Are you...?"[/color] He asked trailing off a bit and furrow on his brow slightly, feeling his heart flutter slightly and his lips curl up hopefully, in spite of himself.

Miry had seemed to have something on her mind a lot this past week, always seeming to be thinking about something else. She had seemed worried at times, even... And come to think of it, he had awoken just a few days ago to find her missing from his bed, having complained about being sick to the apothecary. He had supposed she had eaten something that disagreed with her the night before but in hindsight...

She froze as he took her hand again, a flush washing over her face. She pressed her face into his side for a long moment before mumbling, [color=c2a5fd]"..I t-think? I don't... know?"[/color] Emotion welled up in her, and she flung her free arm around him and pulled herself tightly against him, shaking sobs and tears being pulled from her body as she clung to his side. [color=c2a5fd]"I'm s-sorry... I was sc-cared and I- didn't..."[/color]

She tried to steady herself, clinging to him and taking shaky deep breaths to calm herself down. Annoyingly, she'd lost control of her cooling necklace of water, and it had soaked into her shirt and hair, both of which now clung annoyingly around her face and neck and chest. She sniffled slightly, shaking her head a bit. [color=c2a5fd]"Y-you're not mad at me, are you? For n-not... telling you? I didn't want you to think, not - y'know, not.. with us being h-here. And. You- getting another girl. And- that. I didn't want you to t-think it was me just- wanting attention."[/color]

Zakroti's face broke into a large grin and he held still, processing what had been said. She was... He laughed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him. He felt giddy inside, his heart fluttering--a slight sense of trepidation at the thought of being a father, true, but it was covered by his elation. He wasn't entirely sure what to say or how to respond, and so his first words had several false starts

[color=e23434]"I- You're-how far along is- Mad at you? How could I be mad at you! Thus is wonderful news!"[/color] He managed with a beaming smile, holding her into his embrace and kissing her again. He opened his mouth to speak but then quickly closed it, shaking his head slightly and laughing once more before finally adding [color=e23434]"I could never think that of you."[/color]

He noticed the water splashed around her shirt and hair, and knelt down so that he was level with her; he brushed her hair out the way and missed her forehead lovingly, looking into her eyes. He placed his hand against her chest and carefully heated her shirt to help her dry off as he held her.

[color=e23434]"This other girl we'll be getting, don't worry about her. It's not going to take my attention away from you in the slightest, oeiz aigz."[/color] He said with a reassuring smile, moving his hand up from her shirt to her hair and heating that slightly instead now.

Now that the tears had come once, they came again quickly. Miry flung her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him, her whole body shaking with her quiet tears of happiness- and slight lingering terror. She did her best to respond to his comments as they came, resulting in an awkward moment of them both babbling over each other. [color=c2a5fd]"Two moons, I think- I..."[/color] at that point she met his lips again, pressing up tightly against his body and kissing him once more. [color=c2a5fd]"I'm sorry."[/color] she again mumbled. 

As he kissed her forehead and started gently warming her tunic, she blushed and pressed up close against him, wrapping her arms tighter around him and resting her head on his shoulder. [color=c2a5fd]"You know I wouldn't mind if you'd rather share her bed. I know... I know I'm not much to look at, or to hold, or to .. do things with."[/color] Her breath caught in her throat at that thought but she shook her head slightly to dispel it, instead snuggling closer to him, so that her mouth was by his ear so she could whisper – [color=c2a5fd]"Also, I'm not letting go. If ya want to go anywhere you gotta take me with you."[/color] A slight giggle escaped her then, a big contrast from her shaky tears from just a bit earlier. [color=c2a5fd]"...I'm going to be a mother. The mother of your child. That's... terrifying. And wonderful. But terrifying... I'm really not making sense, am I? I'm sorry my mind is- going faster than a racehorse. Just. I'm."[/color] she trailed off uncertainly, then shook her head slightly to dispel such thoughts, trying to string coherency back into her head. [color=c2a5fd]"In whatever case. I'd imagine there's social obligations you've got to attend today? Everyone in the city will be here for the choosing, of course, it'll be high time for a festival or.. something, is it not?"[/color]

Zakroti kissed her again and listened to her talk, before shaking his head something fierce [color=e23434]"No, Miry, I would far rather share your bed than the bed of all the women of Gemmenia."[/color] He said as he ran his hand back down from her hair and wrapped it around her, holding her close to him. He laughed a little and continued [color=e23434]"I don't want you to let go. And I understand, it is somewhat frightening... But more wonderful, I think. You and I and a little baby; Who would have thought it?"[/color] Certainly he would not have thought, not a year ago. When he had came to the spine last, he had expected his brides to be little more than annoyances whom, if he was able to get pregnant, would provide more even littler annoyances. And yet it did not seem so, and rather had found himself elated to have Miry with him. Things had continued much as they had before, that much was true, but rather than being annoying she was instead a welcome breath of air between arduous duties and discussions. 

[color=e23434]"Yes, we'll have to attend some festivities later. For now, let's rest and I'll fill you in on them. The servants will be bringing food soon and I am sure you're hungry and tired from the journey."[/color] Zakroti took her hand gently and led her across the room to the head table, sitting himself down upon one of the two thrones and inviting her to sit beside him, never letting go of her hand as he smiled up at her. Then he took a couple of long sniffs of the air and grinned [color=e23434]"They haven't told me what we're having. I suspect boiled Reabak from the smell, but I can't be sure if that is for now or later. There's also a Carcasarus and- oh I think there might be a boar too- cooking in there, but those two are certainly for the feast later. I can't recall, have you tried boiled Reabak yet?"[/color]

Miry blushed, seemingly consoled by the answer, and happily followed Zakroti to the head table. As she settled into the seat beside him (needing to comically scoot herself into the seat, and looking more like a doll than an actual person in the drakken-shaped furniture) and heard him babble about  the food, she grinned as well. [color=c2a5fd]"I think we may have had it at a feast last year... for your grandfather's birthday, or something? I don't remember, but I'm certain it will be delicious."[/color] She too sniffed the air, trying to discern the spices that were being cooked with.

[color=c2a5fd]"Do you know if there's any.. kiondu fruits here?"[/color] She asked, altogether too cheerily. They were a hardy vine fruit that was about the size of her own people's oranges, with a thick and bitter rind and segmented, very deep purple pulp, and were exceptionally juicy, with a sweet and slightly spicy flavor. [color=c2a5fd]"I tried one at the market a few weeks ago and really liked it, the merchant said he'd got them from someone just outside the capital. Do they grow here, or..?"[/color]

[color=e23434]"Ah yes I think you're right. I do like boiled Reabak, it has a lovely taste. Although the aftertaste can be a bit strong on its own. Hm. I think Kiondu does grow here yes, I do hope they'll serve some. Adding a bit of spice and sweetness will help with he aftertaste."[/color] Zakroti said with a grin. He'd have some more Kiondu bought for the stores of Mu'Jupostat then. Perhaps he'd see if one of the plants could be added to the gardens of Mu'Jupostat, it would be far from the first time a plant from another part of Drakka had been transplanted there. 

A servant came over from serving the soldiers with a pitcher and poured liquid into his goblet. When she moved to pour it into Miry's, Zak reached out to stop her. [color=e23434]"She is with child. Fetch her water from the front instead."[/color] The servant nodded and took the goblet, scurrying away towards the fountain to fill it. 

Zak listed his goblet and examined it for a moment, taking a sip of it and placing it back down onto the table with a nod. [color=e23434]"Ah. It's fermented Wildfire pod sap. It's got a very sweet and flavourful taste, but it's also strong."[/color]

The servant hurried back over and placed Miry's now water filled goblet onto the table with her, taking the pitcher back from the table and bowing away again.

And just a few minutes later, several other servants dashed out of the kitchen, dishes and platters in hand and began to lay the food out on the tables; bread and fruits as well as the dishes of boiled Reabak. The hungry soldiers set into it immediately and the head servant brought two dishes over to Miry and Zak

[color=cccccc]"The best dishes, my lord and lady. Boiled Reabak marinated in sweet wood sap, then served with diced fae stool."[/color] The servant announced as he placed the dishes down before them and bowed away. Another servant brought a small tray with some sliced bread on it to the table and a third brought over some Kiondu fruit. Zak took his knife and fork and cut into the slice of Reabak meat, placing it into his mouth and chewing it. 

[color=e23434]"It's rather fresh too."[/color] Zak commented after swallowing, smiling and cutting into it again. He spent breakfast explaining the various festivities of the coming days to her, pausing occasionally to answer questions - and to become lost in his head. For though he tried to think on to the days ahead to explain social events such as the fights in the dueling pits to her, he found his thoughts wandering away from such mundane topics and always coming back to Miry and their unborn child.

Miry had always been uneasy being waited upon - even a year of living sort of as a lady hadn't been able to break her of the itch that she should be on her feet being one of the many bustling around. She sat on her hands, to prevent herself from trying to reach out and help. Upon Zak's comment, her face flushed and she let out a small squeaking sound. [color=c2a5fd]"You know I could have fetched it myself."[/color] she mumbled to him. But she settled back in the chair after a moment, taking one of the tasty fruits and cutting it in half, the purple juice pooling on her plate. She scooped one of the segments of it into her mouth, relishing in the burst of flavor as she chewed it and happily listened to Zak's talking. Periodically she'd interject with a comment about some influential family or another - someone whose dynasty she'd read of in history books - but for the most part she was happy to hear him chattering.

Zak was really preoccupied - likely by the same thing that Miry herself was distracted by. Her free hand settled over her abdomen as she nibbled on the fruit (as delicious as the meal was, her stomach was a little bit uneasy and she did not trust herself to eat a whole plateful) and she let herself daydream about the future. Her daydreams were slightly soured by the lingering fear of... being rejected, the terror of having a child (the rumors she'd heard in the courts in Gemmenia, about few brides ever surviving childbirth) - but overall she was entirely content to imagine their future together.

[hider=summary cause gods this post needs it]
The Unalim party arrives in the capital and gets themselves settled in their manor. Miry is a vibrating puddle of estrogen flailing about maternity and Zak finally quits being oblivious. Also, they’re very cute.[/hider]