Return to Mavella
Festival this weekend saw the first run of Jesriah, which was a game set in the same universe as the acclaimed LARP, The Prince Comes of Age. In Jesriah, however, the PCoA canon that the GMs used was from the first run, where Cessan marries Jinjiera instead of Sarah. That in mind, I'm writing a new fic, one that takes the events of our game and mashes them up with the new canon ending.
The clock read five minutes to midnight as the herald struck his staff three times against the marble tiles of the floor. The party had reached a fever-pitch, loud and raucous as the guests indulged in Ferlis's wares and worked off the adrenaline of not one nor two but three full-scale melee battles, but the room quieted almost instantly as each blow echoed through the room. It was possible that some people had forgotten there was more to the evening than simply a celebration of Cessan's nativity. At midnight he would turn eighteen; more important than that, at midnight he would have to name his bride, who, upon the birth of their first child, would become the future Queen of Mavella. All eyes swung to him, the air heavy with expectation as they waited to discover who he would choose.
Cessan lifted his head from Sara's shoulder with a disbelieving, "It's that time already?" For once, his confusion did not have a chemical source; Sara had forbidden Ferlis from supplying him anything stronger than champagne after eleven. She'd had a lecture all prepared for them, about how he was going to be making a choice that would impact the entire queendom and he owed it to everyone to make it clear-headed, but they hadn't given her the chance. Ferlis had shrugged and said it would be better to wait until after the announcement so they could celebrate, and Cessan had simply flopped down beside her and rested his head on her shoulder and dozed. It had been a very long party for him. First there had been the ultraviolent (Akhun had tried explaining that there was no 'n' in the name, but Cessan had fought the wretched thing and ultraviolent it certainly was!), and then discovering he was half-demon, and then the battle with the automaton assassin, followed by going up against a real and true actual demon from the catacombs. He had every reason to be sleepy, drat it all.
"That time," Sara agreed, poking him in the side when he groaned and tried to rest back down again. "You ready?"
Cessan frowned. "If I say no, do you think they'll let me think about it for a few more weeks?" He gave her his best hopeful puppy eyes. "I promise to think about it every day until then!"
Giving him a gentle smile, Sara rose and offered him her hand. Unlike most of the ladies in his mother's court, her hand was strong, covered with callouses, rough from years of swordplay. He hadn't truly understood how good she was with her sword until she'd saved his life tonight. Multiple times. "Just listen to your heart," she reminded him softly as she helped him up. "Think of your people, yes, but also think of yourself. Think of the woman who will be best for you and your country. Choose the woman you think you can love."
He closed his eyes, letting her usual good sense wash over him. Choose the woman you think you can love. "I will, Sara," he promised, leaning forward to brush his lips across her cheek. "I'll choose the right girl. I think I finally know who she is."
"Well, hurry up," Ferlis complained while his date nibbled the side of his neck--and his sister looked on in disapproval. "I've got a lot of money riding on this."
"And, you know, only the future of the entire country," Maxa jibed. "But let's not lose sight of Ferlis's gold."
"There are bets?!" Cessan asked, trying not to facepalm.
"More like gentlemen's wagers," Ferlis replied. Cessan started to relax, only to tense up again when Maxa added, "Only because we weren't allowed to place bets with the real bookies. They claimed we'd have too much of an advantage."
"All of Fairview's in on this?!"
"Indeed!" Ed proclaimed grandly--and tipsily. "In fact, I have two-to-one odds on you choosing the lovely--" Several hands clamped over his mouth before he could finish.
"Cessan, with the right stakes, you can find an idiot willing to bet the sun will rise in the west tomorrow," Ferlis said, hastily trying to distract Cessan's attention again.
"And before you tell us what the stakes were to make you take that bet, idiot," Eluen interrupted, "Cessan's got about two minutes to make his choice. Stop blathering on and let him go."
"Fun-pire," Ferlis, Maxa, and Cessan muttered in unison. Sara and Eluen rolled their eyes and pointed towards the dais where the herald waited with increasing impatience.
The walk up to the dais seemed very long to Cessan. He was acutely aware of his prospective brides; by tradition, they had lined up at the foot of the dais, so his eyes would remain on them for the entire length of the room. Septima looked relaxed, almost thoughtful, except for the way her eyes kept scanning the room, her hand twitching towards the weapon that was not on her belt. Serena's face was composed as usual, her tranquil expression giving nothing away. Jinjiera wasn't as good as hiding her feelings as the other two; she looked hopeful, though her knuckles were white where she was clinging to her newfound sister's hand. She had the most riding on his decision, he knew. She'd talked to him about her father and her country's oppressive laws, keeping women as chattel, less important than men. If he married another, she'd have to go back to that place.
He willed his legs not to shake as he climbed the stairs, wishing he'd ignored Sara and asked Ferlis for something to calm him anyway. He wanted to grumble at her--he was a prince! he was of age! he could take whatever he wanted!--but he knew she'd just been taking care of him. Like she always did. Like she always had. Like she always would. That thought steadied him as he turned and began his brief speech.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for celebrating my birthday with me. While it's definitely one we will always remember--though with a bit more fighting than we'd anticipated, I think--the time has come for me to turn this party from memorable to historical. It's time for me to choose the lady that will be my wife and the queen of my home in the years to come." Here, he was supposed to talk about how the ladies he didn't choose were still wonderful and beautiful and he was sure that any one of them would be able to grace his arm and rule his country well, but Cessan found his mouth going dry and his tongue in knots. He couldn't draw this out any longer. Not for their benefit, but his own. The weight of everyone's expectant stare was getting to be a little much, even for him. "The next queen of Mavella will be..."
He looked out at the crowd, his eyes going to Sara almost by instinct. She tapped her heart three times and offered him a sweet smile. Trust your heart. She was right; just like always. He knew which lady he should ask to marry him; his heart was telling him this was the right thing to do.
"Princess Jinjiera!"
[Moving over to Dreamwidth. Catch me over there as booksomewench. This entry cross-posted to both sites. Feel free to comment here or there.]
The clock read five minutes to midnight as the herald struck his staff three times against the marble tiles of the floor. The party had reached a fever-pitch, loud and raucous as the guests indulged in Ferlis's wares and worked off the adrenaline of not one nor two but three full-scale melee battles, but the room quieted almost instantly as each blow echoed through the room. It was possible that some people had forgotten there was more to the evening than simply a celebration of Cessan's nativity. At midnight he would turn eighteen; more important than that, at midnight he would have to name his bride, who, upon the birth of their first child, would become the future Queen of Mavella. All eyes swung to him, the air heavy with expectation as they waited to discover who he would choose.
Cessan lifted his head from Sara's shoulder with a disbelieving, "It's that time already?" For once, his confusion did not have a chemical source; Sara had forbidden Ferlis from supplying him anything stronger than champagne after eleven. She'd had a lecture all prepared for them, about how he was going to be making a choice that would impact the entire queendom and he owed it to everyone to make it clear-headed, but they hadn't given her the chance. Ferlis had shrugged and said it would be better to wait until after the announcement so they could celebrate, and Cessan had simply flopped down beside her and rested his head on her shoulder and dozed. It had been a very long party for him. First there had been the ultraviolent (Akhun had tried explaining that there was no 'n' in the name, but Cessan had fought the wretched thing and ultraviolent it certainly was!), and then discovering he was half-demon, and then the battle with the automaton assassin, followed by going up against a real and true actual demon from the catacombs. He had every reason to be sleepy, drat it all.
"That time," Sara agreed, poking him in the side when he groaned and tried to rest back down again. "You ready?"
Cessan frowned. "If I say no, do you think they'll let me think about it for a few more weeks?" He gave her his best hopeful puppy eyes. "I promise to think about it every day until then!"
Giving him a gentle smile, Sara rose and offered him her hand. Unlike most of the ladies in his mother's court, her hand was strong, covered with callouses, rough from years of swordplay. He hadn't truly understood how good she was with her sword until she'd saved his life tonight. Multiple times. "Just listen to your heart," she reminded him softly as she helped him up. "Think of your people, yes, but also think of yourself. Think of the woman who will be best for you and your country. Choose the woman you think you can love."
He closed his eyes, letting her usual good sense wash over him. Choose the woman you think you can love. "I will, Sara," he promised, leaning forward to brush his lips across her cheek. "I'll choose the right girl. I think I finally know who she is."
"Well, hurry up," Ferlis complained while his date nibbled the side of his neck--and his sister looked on in disapproval. "I've got a lot of money riding on this."
"And, you know, only the future of the entire country," Maxa jibed. "But let's not lose sight of Ferlis's gold."
"There are bets?!" Cessan asked, trying not to facepalm.
"More like gentlemen's wagers," Ferlis replied. Cessan started to relax, only to tense up again when Maxa added, "Only because we weren't allowed to place bets with the real bookies. They claimed we'd have too much of an advantage."
"All of Fairview's in on this?!"
"Indeed!" Ed proclaimed grandly--and tipsily. "In fact, I have two-to-one odds on you choosing the lovely--" Several hands clamped over his mouth before he could finish.
"Cessan, with the right stakes, you can find an idiot willing to bet the sun will rise in the west tomorrow," Ferlis said, hastily trying to distract Cessan's attention again.
"And before you tell us what the stakes were to make you take that bet, idiot," Eluen interrupted, "Cessan's got about two minutes to make his choice. Stop blathering on and let him go."
"Fun-pire," Ferlis, Maxa, and Cessan muttered in unison. Sara and Eluen rolled their eyes and pointed towards the dais where the herald waited with increasing impatience.
The walk up to the dais seemed very long to Cessan. He was acutely aware of his prospective brides; by tradition, they had lined up at the foot of the dais, so his eyes would remain on them for the entire length of the room. Septima looked relaxed, almost thoughtful, except for the way her eyes kept scanning the room, her hand twitching towards the weapon that was not on her belt. Serena's face was composed as usual, her tranquil expression giving nothing away. Jinjiera wasn't as good as hiding her feelings as the other two; she looked hopeful, though her knuckles were white where she was clinging to her newfound sister's hand. She had the most riding on his decision, he knew. She'd talked to him about her father and her country's oppressive laws, keeping women as chattel, less important than men. If he married another, she'd have to go back to that place.
He willed his legs not to shake as he climbed the stairs, wishing he'd ignored Sara and asked Ferlis for something to calm him anyway. He wanted to grumble at her--he was a prince! he was of age! he could take whatever he wanted!--but he knew she'd just been taking care of him. Like she always did. Like she always had. Like she always would. That thought steadied him as he turned and began his brief speech.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for celebrating my birthday with me. While it's definitely one we will always remember--though with a bit more fighting than we'd anticipated, I think--the time has come for me to turn this party from memorable to historical. It's time for me to choose the lady that will be my wife and the queen of my home in the years to come." Here, he was supposed to talk about how the ladies he didn't choose were still wonderful and beautiful and he was sure that any one of them would be able to grace his arm and rule his country well, but Cessan found his mouth going dry and his tongue in knots. He couldn't draw this out any longer. Not for their benefit, but his own. The weight of everyone's expectant stare was getting to be a little much, even for him. "The next queen of Mavella will be..."
He looked out at the crowd, his eyes going to Sara almost by instinct. She tapped her heart three times and offered him a sweet smile. Trust your heart. She was right; just like always. He knew which lady he should ask to marry him; his heart was telling him this was the right thing to do.
"Princess Jinjiera!"
[Moving over to Dreamwidth. Catch me over there as booksomewench. This entry cross-posted to both sites. Feel free to comment here or there.]