Felix and Ashura - Mirador AU
Ashura looked up at the great beast of stone that was the Mirador. Admittedly, the whole thing scared him, but did not frighten. He could feel this presence about it, like it was a dragon squatting over its hoard, waiting for the unsuspecting knight to come so it could chomp their head off. It was perhaps not the best way to view his new home for the next several months, but it that was the image that nonetheless came to mind. But then again, the image might be to blame on his advisors back home preparing him for his venture here under orders of his father, warning that the men and women here had more in common with snakes than humans. He was to trust no one, ignore the whispers, be wary the smiles, and never drink the wine. Or at least that is what his advice mounted to, and he had several advisors in his party.
Tearing his eyes away from the Mirador he turned to look at his train - a mass of people and baggage that was surprisingly moderate given his status. He had only four knights with him, including his eldest friend Karuma, two advisors, four chamber servants and then those necessary to transport his luggage and the gifts his land offered to the Mirador in hopes of facilitating an alliance, if not an union. His father held high hopes, but that just laid more pressure on Ashura himself. Absently he stroked the dark black mane of his mount, a sturdy beast easily three hands higher than any beast he had seen since entering these western lands. And just as his beast was different, Ashura became increasingly aware of the differences between himself and these people.
His ears were pointed, for starters, and when meeting the men and women at the inns he staid at, he usually had at least a good five inches on them when it came to height, and he did not wear shoes as was proper custom for his people in their wardrobe choices. Language was another thing. Though he trained hard to be able to speak in the language of the Mirador, he often found himself rolling the harsh letters and syllables on his tongue, forcing them into the more intricate flowing language of his land. He knew it was wrong, but the language just sounded so harsh, like grating stone against glass. It made his ears hurt. But he would need to put that aside to smooth things over with the Mirador, so he smiled through it all and now approached the Mirador with air of calm anticipation.
"Are we meeting the king first?" Prince Ashura asked his advisor, turning his golden gaze on an older, yet suavely handsome councilor riding beside him on a black and white gelding.
"Yes, sire," the man inclined his head. "It was why we have taken such care to go slowly today, to avoid stressing yourself." By which he meant they did not want to show up to the audience covered in dirt and smelling of a horse's rear end.
"So be it," he sighed, steeling himself as they passed through the first gate, and into the Mirador.
Tearing his eyes away from the Mirador he turned to look at his train - a mass of people and baggage that was surprisingly moderate given his status. He had only four knights with him, including his eldest friend Karuma, two advisors, four chamber servants and then those necessary to transport his luggage and the gifts his land offered to the Mirador in hopes of facilitating an alliance, if not an union. His father held high hopes, but that just laid more pressure on Ashura himself. Absently he stroked the dark black mane of his mount, a sturdy beast easily three hands higher than any beast he had seen since entering these western lands. And just as his beast was different, Ashura became increasingly aware of the differences between himself and these people.
His ears were pointed, for starters, and when meeting the men and women at the inns he staid at, he usually had at least a good five inches on them when it came to height, and he did not wear shoes as was proper custom for his people in their wardrobe choices. Language was another thing. Though he trained hard to be able to speak in the language of the Mirador, he often found himself rolling the harsh letters and syllables on his tongue, forcing them into the more intricate flowing language of his land. He knew it was wrong, but the language just sounded so harsh, like grating stone against glass. It made his ears hurt. But he would need to put that aside to smooth things over with the Mirador, so he smiled through it all and now approached the Mirador with air of calm anticipation.
"Are we meeting the king first?" Prince Ashura asked his advisor, turning his golden gaze on an older, yet suavely handsome councilor riding beside him on a black and white gelding.
"Yes, sire," the man inclined his head. "It was why we have taken such care to go slowly today, to avoid stressing yourself." By which he meant they did not want to show up to the audience covered in dirt and smelling of a horse's rear end.
"So be it," he sighed, steeling himself as they passed through the first gate, and into the Mirador.