Fable - Ask To Fill the Throne

[Aivrid]

Tag: Medja Nym Ashuanar Kiia Sidra Mago Matahari Noelani

It's hardly that easy...

---

​

"Oh, Medja, am I not virtuous enough? Can I not do things simply for the betterment of our good Empire?" He laughed. She already knew the answer.

"I wish to retain the... benefits, of my current position, at the very least. And of course I hope that my kindness is remembered, should I ever have need of the same." He held Medja's gaze for a moment. A blank check; he knew he would need some kindness soon, given his mild state of homely disrepair, financial insecurity, and domestic difficulties. Having some support in case of emergency was important.

Aside from that he had little to offer to the discussion. They would call upon him when they needed him. The girl's response was amusing, of course -- the very idea of democracy among self-serving individuals was laughable -- but he did not feel the need to respond. He simply smiled.

 

[Ashuanar]

As the discussion carried on, Ashuanar's eyes moved between each of them, watching those who listened as much as those who spoke. As he did so, he felt an uneasiness grow. While his loyalty to Gerra was indeed strong, it was by no means blind. He continued to consider it with every passing day, and often he weighed his beliefs, much like he weighed the repercussions of their decisions here.

But while they all seemed to lean toward one accord, there was a stark contrast between him and seemingly everyone else here. Ashuanar sought to gain nothing more than the benefit of the empire. That was all he had ever done. Even his appointment as Vizier had been nothing less than an absolute shock, and entirely unprecedented in his opinion. Ashuanar had known nothing about matters of state, or commanding a host of such size, and even now he would admit he was unsure if he was the proper person for the role. But while he had no such quarry, he was hardly blind to the aspirations of the others - and this angered him.

Many had forgotten their place.

“...I must be The High Priestess.”​

"You presume too much, priestess," Ashuanar spoke, his voice taking an unusually hostile tone, "perhaps your memory his short, but I suffer no such plight. Your treachery is hardly forgotten, and you should remember your place. You are a guest here, and were you not Abtati I would hardly suffer you. Only this has granted you amnesty in my eyes as kin."

He moved forward, and glared at Nym, "and you also seem quick to forget, a city ruled under an iron fist was laid siege with bread. You see sins in Gerra that very few do, and remain blind to those he took you from," then he turned his eyes to Medja, and his voice softened, "and yes, there are grievous sins he has committed," he fell silent for a moment as he looked at her almost mournfully. It was the emperor's actions against her very self that had shaken Ashuanar's faith in him, but ultimately, Ashuanar understood quite intimately the position of their people and, perhaps most importantly, the ranks of the army. Many would never believe in such a traitorous act from the emperor, and others would see no fault in it, but see it as his divine authority. To many, his word was absolute.

While things seemed very clear to them here, it was not so elsewhere. He turned and started toward the doorway, "You may mistake my caution for something that it is not, but hear me now, should anything go astray, the insult of this will not be forgotten, and none here can calm such a storm," he stopped in the midst of the archway, and turned back, "the position should go to Medja."

Then he retreated from the gathering for the inside, and got for himself something to drink.

It was strange for him to feel such discontent among his peers, but something about this didn't sit right with him, only, he wasn't entirely sure what.

---

Medja | Nym | Noelani | Kiia Sidra | Mago Matahari | Aivrid​

 

[Fieravene]

A black cat with red eyes watched Ashuanar enter the side chamber from her perch atop a very ornate and expensive giant vase.

 

[Medja]

"I am the sea and that is my place, not sitting on this throne,"

That much was a fairly predictable response. Medja had a fair deal of trust and respect for the Vizier of the Moon, and had known from the very start that she'd be a good fit for the position. So much so, in fact, that she had always been fairly certain that the Mchawi princess would not soon wish to leave. The Empire would certainly suffer in her absence as well, so it was rather for the best that she didn't carry such ambitions. However, her lack of presence on Imperial shores did carry the unfortunate side effect of her lack of acquaintance with her peers, an unfortunate miscalculation on Medja's part backed by Noelani's unerring sense of responsibility.

"Your position on this matter is both understandable and respectable, Lani." Medja spared her a warm and knowing smile as she acknowledged the sea witch's reply. "And I thank you for your dedication, as does the Empire."

“I would not presume to have a voice in choosing a regent. However, should you assume such a role, Lady Medja, I believe your… unique talents would be well suited to such a, shall we say, theatrical transition of power.”

Of this, the sorceress was keenly aware. It seemed that Kiia had picked up on her intentions or, at the very least, was following the same train of thought she was. Medja could practically see the gears turning behind those amber eyes, a fact which delighted her to no end. While the Vizier had no particular display of immortality presently in mind to display to the Abtati at large, she was certain that a feat more suiting to her particular brand of magic was feasible.

“...I must be The High Priestess.”

Hundreds, how bold. 'The' High Priestess had certainly done a good job of capturing Medja's attention by now. Her close proximity was not unwelcome, and she had some degree of respect for her attempt at taking advantage of the situation. This was certainly the beginning of a longer and hopefully fruitful exchange.

"While I cannot speak for my fellow Viziers, you know as well as I do that death is an avoidable consequence for a sorceress of my caliber. As for your own prestige, Kiia," The Vizier's own volume fell to meet that of the Abtati woman's, a sidelong glance at the present company serving as a subtle warning not to overstep her boundaries just yet. "I believe that is a discussion best held at a later juncture."

"I believe more than any that Medja's life is a testament to her ability to build and show strength.

Vim and vigor were the name of Nymeasha's proverbial game as she positively brimmed with faith in Medja. It was touching; the sorceress couldn't recall a soul in her life that had stuck up for her with such gusto beside her. Not any of her lovers, not one of her many Hands, not even Ashuanar. While her display might've come off as cross or inappropriate to the others in attendance, Medja did not see it in such a stark fashion. Where the comments of the others had slowly been building a tentative confidence in the Vizier to take on the role in a more brazen fashion, the princess of Salitra instead was quickly infecting her with that same enthusiasm.

There was some danger in that infectious enthusiasm, of course, but Medja couldn't help but spare the girl a proud smile. She would be rewarded in more ways than she could possibly know.

"Oh, Medja, am I not virtuous enough? Can I not do things simply for the betterment of our good Empire?"

Coy and sardonic as ever, this dragon. He was one of the few beings Medja knew who outstripped her in terms of experience in the art of manipulation and subterfuge, a fact made even more bothersome by the fact that he absolutely had the power to take what he wanted and chose the hard route anyway for the simple fun of it. Aivrid was as potentially dangerous as he was useful, and leaving an open ended favor with such a being would almost certainly come back to bite her...but such aid was almost certainly a necessary evil.

"You've tended to your Vizierdom far better than most of your predecessors, Aivrid, we would be foolish to remove you." Medja answered, purposefully ignoring any mention of his incredible might. Then her lips curled in a sly grin of her own. 'Kindness,' indeed. "And if you'd been so eager to share another evening of dining and...companionship with me again, you should have simply asked, dear."

"You presume too much, priestess,"

The Vizier of the Sun had had enough of those present's ambitions, it seemed. Medja sighed quietly; she had been afraid that his devotion to the God-Emperor would come to clash with any push forward she tried to make here, and now his apprehension had turned to irritation. This was an outcome she had sought to avoid, but one that she had known was likely. As he spoke of the great Siege of Bread, she nearly felt need to remind him that Salitra's people had starved not just because of their despot Emir, but also due to the Empire's own meddling. She would not take sides between two of her most favorite souls, however, and now was not the time to discuss the ethics of conquest.

At the very least, the grand general seemed to be tangibly remorseful over what had happened those months ago near the giant gash in the desert. Much like the land, Medja still bore the searing scar on her chest, a permanent reminder of Gerra's outrage, and the pain of what Medja could only know as a betrayal. Seeing Ashuanar turn his back to the assembly sent her heart to aching. She would want some time alone with him later to ensure he was okay, and perhaps to finally speak of what happened that day.

"none here can calm such a storm,"

"I don't believe that's true, dear Sun. I believe you could." She called after him, a slight sadness in her voice. "And if you believe that I am the best for this, I will need you more than ever."

Medja steadied herself and took in the expressions of each of her companions. She breathed deeply. Regardless of feelings, now was the time to make her bid.

"I had hoped that we would come to a more unanimous decision than this, but perhaps this is as close as we are going to come. I alone have the support of the nobles of Annuakat and Salitra, as well as that of the Vizier of Red Sun." She spoke with confidence, projecting herself with authority and grace. "If no one else will lay claim to this, then I, Medja of Ragash, will shoulder the burden of the throne."

 

[Noelani]

An odd silence seemed to fall over the chamber, though whether that was to do with Medja's proclamation or the rage into which Ashuanar had flown Noelani couldn't quite tell. As she cast her eyes discreetly around the room everyone looked frozen in time with some emotion written over their face; anger, frustration, bewilderment, guilt... As for herself she imagined she looked surprised. The vizler had always seemed a stoic and unflappable type. When they had fought the cursed scorpion beings in the deserts when his men had fallen he had taken everything in his stride. Now...

Her brows pulled down into a frown of displeasure. Ashuanar had spoken a lot of what Noelani feared, too. Gerra had an almost cult of personality that surrounded him. She had seen the feverish zeal with which some people worshipped him and had seen, with her own eyes, what they did off their own steam to those who did not support him. If that anger and ire turned towards the Vizler's and top tiers of society then it could be catastrophic.

"An heir must be secured when Gerra returns," Lani said into the silence. As far as she was concerned the Regency was sorted and Medja would try to hold the leash of the people until the God-Emperor returned. It was not a task that she envied her and she hoped her friend was wise enough to not steer too close to politics and find herself burnt in the same fire. "A child is the only thing that will really secure the peace," and whoever controlled the child could enjoy the powers of regent if necessary.

"Who would be a suitable candidate for a wife?"

 

[Baenon]

The Prince had nothing more to add while the others spoke up, though he listened carefully to everything said. It was true, no matter what decision was made today there would be great challenges to overcome in the days ahead. There were none here he thought incapable of meeting them head on, but many he doubted could do it with as much tact and grace as Medja.

Once she proclaimed her position on the matter, he nodded in approval.

The topic raised by Princess Noelani, however, was given a frown of distaste.

"I would no sooner presume to choose a wife for the God-Emperor than his favorite meal or color. That decision, fair Princess, rests only in the hands of Gerra himself. Only he can know who qualifies for such a monumental mantle of responsibility."

 

[Kiia Sidra]

Kiia knew when to remain silent, and this was one such time. While her face betrayed annoyance at Ashuanar's initial chastising it corrected itself quickly. She closed her eyes, set her face neutral, and backed a few steps from Medja. She had said her piece, and the regent-to-be had heard it. Indeed there would be discussion later. Much discussion.

So she let the Vizier say his piece, let him go on about treachery and so forth. It had been a regrettable slip on her part, but then again, what should she have done instead? Let Gerra kill her? No, she had no intentions of dying anytime soon, and Medja seemed to understand that.

She let a pleasant smile grace her lips as Medja made her appointment official... or as official as it could be. Then, without so much as a courtesy toast, the conversation moved on to heirs. This did not interest her quite so much. It mattered little to her who should bear the Emperor's child. Perhaps a large woman, if she hoped to survive the birth.

But one dynasty at a time. The age of the Sorceress had only just begun, and there was much to do. She set her mind working in silence so that, when the Empress Regent called upon her, she would be ready.

 

[Nym]

A dark and slender brow arched slowly as Ashuanar chastised her for her loose tongue, and her lips twisted in wry amusement. She liked Ashuanar, at least based on her first impressions, but she recalled his obvious conflict and she straightened up, her retort dancing on the tip of her tongue. Words that would have lashed at the man, reminding him of the conflict he'd felt, that his faith in the God Emperor had not been unhindered and that his divinity alone did not mean he was fit to rule. That she knew of blind loyalty better than most, and that far more had died by Gerra's greed than her father's. Nym glanced to Kiia however, who gave no retort of her own, and then to Medja who smiled at her but also in silence.

Learn, Nym..

Her jaw clenched, and her words remained locked behind her teeth to be bitterly swallowed. It took everything she had not to rise with rebuttal, not to jump to defence and launch her own verbal attack, but the man's back was turned and his vote was cast in Medja's favour, and so she would simmer and glare over her wine for Medja's sake.

Lani's words of heirs and wives caused a brief grimace of revulsion and she raised her cup in a mute toast to every poor woman the giant took as a wife, and to any unfortunate child he would father before she downed the last of the wine in her cup. A fresh cup was instantly taken, a new cup for a new Empress.

"Empress Medja." she raised her cup again, and drank.

 

[Ashuanar]

Through the archway, and into the side chamber. The glass pressed to his lips. He drank. His mind raced. Her words echoed in his mind, and his doubts followed after. While his place was one of great merit, he wondered how deep his influence delved.

He set the glass down, and poured another drink. He wondered if he had perhaps been wrong in his frustration, or at least in displaying it so blatantly.

His mind was a well of uncertainty.

He grabbed up his glass again.

He turned, an instinctive response to the feeling of being watched. His eyes went to the doorway, where there was nothing for him to find. But still, he felt perturbed, and his eyes turned to find the source: a black cat atop a finely made vase. At first he was no longer interested, but something struck him about this creature. Its eyes held a certain... similarity to another's. This made him think perhaps he had grown far more weary from his journey here and the subsequent gathering than he first imagined, but he was also quite unsure of just what the individual in question was fully capable of.

So, he wordlessly tipped up his cup to the feline in a casual greeting, and then took a drink.