Private Tales Hearthfire

[Srivani]

The room that Petrus had given her still felt unreal.

The tower chamber was elegant in a way she had no words for, arched windows opening out over Alliria’s endless sprawl of rooftops and sunlit streets that glittered with lanternlight at night. Silken drapes stirred with a gentle breeze, polished stone warmed by the bright morning light. She had spent hours there already, perched by the window like a restless ember, watching the city breathe and glitter below as though it were a fallen constellation.

Now, she barely recognised herself.

The dress she wore now was nothing like the clothes she had worn before. She was always dressed for performance, for spectacle. Now, she was dressed like a Lady of society, as someone who could fit in, who was perhaps equal and not entertainment. The gown was strapless, her bare shoulders and collar dusted with gold. The bodice fitted to her slender frame, embroidered with fine thread that shimmered from deep ember-red to molten gold whenever the sunlight touched it. From her waist flowed layers of silk so light they whispered when she shifted her weight, the fabric trailing down to her ankles in soft, fluid folds of the darkest wine. Subtle slits along the skirt allowed for movement, catching glimpses of warm skin with each careful step.

It was beautiful. Almost too beautiful.

Her hair had been curled and pinned low at the nape of her neck, loose tendrils left to frame her face, catching the sun like copper. Charcoal lined her eyes, darkening their shape and making the amber within burn brighter, more luminous, like coals stirred just enough to glow. Against her skin, the colours sang. Flame dressed in finery, and she was not ashamed to admire herself. She was a proud creature, after all.

A knock sounded at the door, a gentle summons. Petrus had invited her to accompany him today.. Something about Knights and training and jousting. She had been so surprised by the invitation and the choice that she hadn't quite understood what it was for. Her heart fluttered anxiously now, though. She met her own gaze in the mirror, uncertain, and dipped her chin in a small, steadying nod. Do not flee, she reminded herself. You are not being led in chains.

Carefully, she turned and made her way out, gathering the silk of her skirts just enough to keep from stepping on them. The tower stairs curved downward in an elegant spiral, stone cool beneath her palm as she descended into the courtyard below..

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

The servant that had knocked so gently upon her door was nowhere to be found when Srivani emerged from her chambers. Having whisked themselves away to busy with other tasks and, more importantly, leaving Srivani to answer the summons of her own accord. As she descended the stairs with all the beauty of a falling star what awaited her in the courtyard was not a bustling swarm of servants, nor even her benefactor in person. Rather a single man, clad in darkened steel, chest bearing the symbol of the house, awaited her. The blade upon his hip was that of a two-handed longsword but.... odd. The tip was rounded, blunt, with two holes near the end, while an inscription upon the blade read in runes: "So do I wish that when I raise this sword, that this sinner does receive eternal life."

Spoiler: Waiting Knight

Despite their armored and cloaked countenance, towering over Srivani like a tower of darkness and gold, the knight would bow respectfully.

"My Lady. The Lord Iskandar awaits your presence upon the grounds. I have been tasked with overseeing your escort. A task which I am honored to uphold for tales of your beauty fall well short of the reality."

By the knight's side was a stallion, white as snow and regal as a painting, and the knight would step aside and offer a hand. So as to aid Srivani in assuming the side-saddle as was appropriate.

"Come. A woman such as yourself need not waste your time with walking. Ride as our Lord bids you, upon a steed fit for such elegance."

The horse would prove to be well-trained, calm, warm and firm beneath her. The knight adding after only a moment.

"Our Lord also bade me inform you this beast is not mere transport or fanfare, but a gift, one you may name at your leisure My Lady."

Once Srivani was seated the knight would take the harness lead in hand, the other resting upon the hilt of their weapon, and calmly begin to lead Srivani out of the courtyard and toward the manor gate. She was, it seemed, going to make quite the appearance in the Allirian public, Riding upon a snow-white steed through the upper city of Alliria, guarded and guided by a knight in full parade plate for she and she alone.​

 

[Srivani]

Srivani slowed her descent as her amber gaze fell upon the knight, her hands clasped tightly together at her waist, her steps faltering just a little. How small she felt, when he was all steel and shadow and gold, so tall, so solid and formidable. Her chin dipped instinctively, gaze skirting the dark visor of his helm, her shoulders drawing in as though she might fold herself smaller by will alone. For a heartbeat, she wondered if he could see her unease through all that steel..

Then he bowed. The simple courtesy startled her slightly. The sound of his voice, human, calm and respectful, settled something her unease.

She took the last few steps down, offering a light curtsy in return, careful and practiced despite how rarely she’d had cause to use one. Her lips twitched into the faintest, shy smile at his compliment, warmth creeping into her cheeks.

“Thank you, Ser…” she murmured, her accent softening the title as her eyes drifted past him to the horse waiting at his side.

Oh.

The stallion was magnificent. White as driven snow, standing like something carved from marble and given life. She stared, momentarily forgetting herself, her fingers loosening from their clasp.

Then the knight gestured, and understanding dawned far too quickly, that she was to sit atop it.
Eyes like polished amber widened, and she glanced from the horse back to the knight, colour blooming deeper into her cheeks. She swallowed whatever trepidation she'd been about to voice, then nodded once, decisively, as though courage could be summoned on command.

When he offered his hand, she hesitated only a moment before placing her own within it. His grip was firm and steady as he guided her up, and she followed his instruction carefully, settling into the side saddle with a soft, surprised breath. The height made her head spin for a moment, but the horse beneath her was steady.

Then came his next words. That this creature was a gift.

Her breath caught audibly this time. She looked down at him, blinking. “For… me?” she asked breathily.

When the meaning settled, when it stayed, her face lit in a way no finery ever could ignite. A small, radiant smile bloomed as she leaned forward just enough to brush her fingers along the stallion’s neck, slow and gentle.

"Eshara.." She whispered the word to herself. A word that meant beautiful in her mother tongue. One that she had not used in so very long.

The horse flicked an ear but did not shy, and Srivani let out a small, breathless laugh before straightening again. Her hand lingered in the horse’s mane as she considered the knight’s final piece of news, that she should name him. Her smile widened.

“To name a star is an honour,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

She looked down again at the stallion, her thumb brushing against his neck, and smiled softly, a little overwhelmed. The name came quickly to her mind.

"Solvarian.."

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Spoiler: Solvarian

As Srivani marveled at her new steed the beast's body would tense, flex and move beneath her in confident motions. Bearing her weight without complaint or struggle as they moved forward the manor entrance. Upon being named Solvarian would flick their mane in something approaching approval and the knight would remind the starstruck Genasi that she was not, in fact, alone.

"Indeed. Naming a star, I imagine, is an honor only your mother has shared with you My Lady."

Whether or not Srivani understood the slightly hidden implication that she herself was a star was left for her to decipher as she would find herself lead out into the streets of Alliria whereupon the city's wealthiest would gaze upon her with awe. She was, truly, in this moment like something out of a storybook. The looks she earned completely at odds with what she had likely experienced all her life.

Gone from the faces of noble ladies were looks of pity or venomous jealousy for a mere entertainer to be blessed with her beauty. Now the looks they wore were one and all those of barely-concealed jealousy. Nearly every woman, and for certain every young girl, they passed bearing the pure, unfiltered desire to BE HER in that moment. Beautiful. Radiant. Floating above the crowds on the back of her very own steed similar to her own personal cloud in the heavens.

The gentle, calming rhythm of Solvarian's hooves upon the cobblestone would set a soothing clip-clop rhythm as they moved down a slowly-curling, winding street. Coming to a halt only for a large carriage bearing other nobility wherein from within two children, a boy and girl with hair so blonde it may as well have been hold, both bearing emerald eyes and small, pudgy hands, would wave at her rapidly and giggle at the sight of her. Meanwhile a rotund man likely in his 50's would approach, the knight scanning him heavily before judging him no threat, as the older man bore a baker's apron and offered up a small collection of chocolates to Srivani.

"Pardon me My Lady."

Began the baker.

"Could I at all interest you in some samples?"

No doubt the knight was aware of the baker's game. While a show of kindness the collection of sweets he offered was also boldly emblazoned with his shop's name. A kindness mixed with turning Srivani into a walking advertisement. Such was what one could expect within the walls of Alliria.​

 

[Srivani]

Another compliment, offered so easily, had warmth blooming across her cheeks before she could stop it. Srivani ducked her head slightly, lashes lowering shyly, fingers tightening just a touch where they rested against the reins.

Formalities, she told herself. Kind words, nothing more.

At the knight’s mention of her mother, her smile softened into something quieter, more fragile. Her gaze drifted somewhere past the streets, past the sunlit stone and fluttering banners, into a memory long untouched. The woman who had given her life felt more like a story now than a person, half-remembered warmth, a voice she could no longer hear clearly. It surprised her, how sharply the thought stirred her chest.

The streets of Alliria unfolded before her like a painted tapestry, and with them came the eyes. So many eyes. She had known attention all her life, the weight of a crowd when she danced with her flames, but this was different. She was not performing. She was simply… there.

And it unsettled her.

She offered gentle smiles as they passed, tentative and hopeful, but when the faces of finely dressed ladies hardened or turned away, her smile faltered. A faint crease appeared between her brows as she looked down, suddenly self-conscious, amber eyes settling on her own hands where they gently clutched Solvarian’s reins. Had she done something wrong? Had she taken something that was not meant for her?

The question lingered only a moment.

Laughter cut through her thoughts, and she looked up just in time to see the two children waving with wild enthusiasm. Her heart lifted instantly. Srivani laughed softly, lifting one hand from the reins to wave back. For them, her smile was easy again, genuine and warm.

Then the stallion halted, and a man approached bearing a box instead of judgment. Another gift..

“For me…?” she echoed softly, brows arching in surprise as she leaned forward just enough to peer at the offering. She did not see the painted name or consider the motive. She saw only generosity. Her hand reached out without hesitation, settling warmly over the baker’s in thanks, her touch gentle and sincere.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, voice bright gratitude.

She lifted the lid just enough to glimpse the sweets inside, her eyes lighting up like sparks catching dry kindling. A soft, delighted sound escaped her before she could stop it.

“Oh.." she breathed, smiling wide now, wonder written plainly across her face. She loved sweet things. "I shall enjoy these." she assured.

For the children, she could not help herself. The magic was not grand, it was quiet and careful, so as not to draw too much attention. Her palm opened, and two butterflies made entirely of flame fluttered from them, dancing through the air above their heads. She smiled, watching them chase them down the street..